Chapter Text
Hermione’s stomach plummeted the moment she stepped through to the floo into the Grimmauld Place library. She instantly felt dozens of eyes on her in the low candlelight. She knew that the intention was to create a calm space that would put her at ease, but the inability to see people’s faces instantly ramped up her anxiety.
“I apologize for being late,” she whispered timidly into the darkness. “Kingsley asked for additional notes on the Gringott’s case that comes before the Wizengamot on Monday.”
Minerva materialized in the low light, taking her hand reassuringly. “That’s quite alright, my dear. We understand the importance of your responsibilities, and no one here objected to having a few fingers of Grimmauld Place’s finest firewhiskey while we waited for you.”
Scattered chuckling broke out around the room, and Hermione’s shoulders finally started to relax from their permanent position near her ears. These were her friends and mentors, even if they were hopeless busybodies who were there to collect gossip and pry her most well-guarded secrets from her.
Minerva led her to her favorite reading chair. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll get started right away unless you need more time.”
Hermione shook her head. “No. I’d much rather have it done with.”
Minerva gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I want to be sure that you know what you’ve signed up for before we begin. “This practice was suggested as a means of establishing identity and intentions after Barty Crouch Jr. impersonated Mad-Eye Moody and held him captive. The questions that people ask are often very personal, and sometimes even insensitive or objectionable. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Hermione returned her affectionate gesture. “I understand. I still want to proceed.”
George Weasley appeared at Minerva’s elbow, handing Hermione a cup of chai tea and a vial of clear liquid. “Lady’s choice. You can add it to your tea if you like. Just be sure you want to do this before you swallow it. This variety of veritaserum was developed by Snape. No mind magic will hold up against it. ”
Applause broke out when she tipped her head back and swallowed the veritaserum in one go. George laughed as he took the empty vial back. “That’s the spirit. Gryffindor through and through.”
The laughter and conversations subsided when Minerva raised her hand. Hermione quickly scanned the room, her eyes slowly adapting to the low light. Most of the people in the room had been Minerva’s students or colleagues at some point, and hence were used to following her orders.
Minerva’s voice rose in much the same way that it did when she was talking to first-year students. “I will remind you all not to act like heathens. Keep your questions reasonable. You would do well to remember your own feelings when you underwent this process. Under no circumstances are you to discuss the information that Hermione provides to us with anyone other than Order members. Also, no more firewhiskey until after the initiation.”
The last requirement earned a round of booing and hissing, but otherwise no one objected to the established rules. Hermione toed off her heels and tucked her feet under her, her timidity gradually fading as her vision adjusted and she could distinguish faces. She’d never seen an Order meeting so well-attended. She secretly wondered who was watching the students at Hogwarts given how many of her former professors were in attendance.
Minerva took a seat in the armchair to Hermione’s left. “George, it’s your turn to start us off. Remember to begin with simpler questions.”
Hermione secretly breathed a sigh of relief. While George was likely to ask her something embarrassing, he wasn’t mean-spirited enough to force her to spill her closest secrets.
“Hermione, what is your favorite book?”
“ Jane Eyre ,” she answered without hesitation.
George’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is the potion working? I thought Hogwarts: A History was your favorite.”
“I can confirm that Jane Eyre is her favorite,” Angelina Johnson chimed in. “She had at least four different editions of it in our rooms.”
Remus Lupin hummed agreement. “I can second that confirmation. She came to my office hours more than once in her third year to argue about the use of the deus ex machina in the novel–”
“Dei ex machina, Professor Lupin,” Hermione cut him off. “There’s certainly more than one. At minimum, there are at least two. Jane’s uncle conveniently provides her with wealth enough for her independence, and Rochester’s disembodied plea saves her from St. John.”
“I don’t think that her uncle counts–” Remus began, but before the exchange could devolve into a renewed argument, George cut in with another question. “What is something that only your housemates would likely know about you?”
“I like to have dessert before my dinner.”
Pomona snorted into her wine glass. “Your parents are dentists! Is eating dessert first some sort of rebellion?”
“I just have a sweet tooth is all.”
“I can confirm that she prefers dessert first,” Minerva cut in. “The house elves used to wait until after the main course to make dessert appear on the tables, but I noticed that they snuck Hermione little dishes of treats before she would touch her chicken or Sunday roast.”
Angelina chuckled. “At least until her fourth year and the S.P.E.W. campaign. The only thing that ever made Hermione consider giving up her quest for house elve rights was the sudden lack of shortbread and Scottish tablet.”
Several of her former professors groaned at the mention of S.P.E.W., but none seemed particularly interested in asking her follow-up questions about her campaign or the subsequent loss of her sweets. Quickly growing bored of the conversation, George decided to redirect the questioning to fulfill the gathered company’s desire for dirty laundry. “Hermione, who did you punch in your third year at Hogwarts?”
“Draco Malfoy,” she answered immediately.
A handful of gasps and no inconsiderable number of snickers sounded in the room. Draco had been too embarrassed by the incident to tell anyone, so this was the first many people in the room were hearing of it.
Minerva did her best to hide her grin. “And why did you punch Draco Malfoy?”
Her nose wrinkled as though she’d smelled something foul. “He was gloating over the fact that his father had twisted the Minister’s arm until he agreed to have Buckbeak executed,” she paused, but the veritaserum dredged up all of her motivations, “and because he was a bigoted prat who needed to be taken down a peg or two.”
The chuckles in the room graduated to laughter at her response, but Hermione was too preoccupied with the efficacy of the veritaserum to feel self-conscious. The potion appeared to work on facial expression as well as verbal responses. It was disconcerting to feel her face betray her true feelings in spite of her attempts to keep her expression neutral.
When the sounds of merriment gradually subsided, a half dozen hands shot up requesting their turn. Minerva gestured to Angelina Johnson.
“Is it true you used to have a crush on Gilderoy Lockhart?”
Hermione’s shoulders relaxed as she silently thanked Angelina for not asking anything too mortifying. “Yes. I read all of his books and practically drooled over him in class. I forgave all of his very obvious deficiencies as an instructor because I loved being the teacher’s pet.”
The room once again came alive with laughter, but Hermione realized with no small degree of concern that she wasn’t finished speaking. “I also had a crush on Remus Lupin.”
Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the name came out of her mouth. Her former professor was blushing in mortification, but George clapped him on the back jovially. “Don’t worry, Professor, a lot of the girls had a crush on you. Nothing to get all shy about.”
Hermione was just grateful that Tonks wasn’t in attendance tonight. Not so much because she would be angry, but rather because she would find it amusing and never let Hermione hear the end of it. She tried to take a deep breath to soothe her nerves, but her wagging tongue seemed determined to reveal all her secrets.
“And there was Ronald Weasley, but everybody knows about that already. But the one I never told anyone about was–”
Hermione literally bit her tongue in an effort to keep from revealing the name.
“Who?” Angelina prompted, and all of Hermione’s goodwill for the witch fled. She’d obviously been spending too much time with her husband if she loved mischief so much.
“Severus Snape.”
Hermione cheeks flushed crimson at the wolf whistles and scattered applause. Her only consolation in this case was that Snape had just opened his own apothecary and was usually too busy to attend Order meetings regularly. She couldn’t stop anyone from telling him, but she found the likelihood of them approaching him with the information she’d confessed tonight was remote at best.
Angelina was still trying to process Hermione’s answer. “You had a crush on Professor Snape?”
“Have,” Hermione corrected.
Hermione’s feelings were divided between mortification and anger at the renewed applause and boisterous chattering that followed. George and Angelina were seated on the floor to her right, and their conversation was the only one she could hear.
George shrugged. “I’m actually not all that surprised. We all know Hermione liked being praised by her teachers. She admitted she likes being the teacher’s pet. Professor Snape was the only teacher who never praised her.”
Angelina nodded thoughtfully. “I can kind of see why she would still have a crush on him.”
George feigned irritation. “In what way am I deficient that you’re ogling your former potions professor, wife?”
She swatted his chest. “I mean that Professor Snape was always one of the more scholarly faculty at Hogwarts. He could talk with Hermione about any subject, and he’s one of the very few people who could keep up with her.”
Hermione would have been interested in hearing more of their conversation, but the room fell quiet again at the sound of Molly Weasley clearing her throat. Thanks to the veritaserum, she couldn’t quite mask her wince at the sour look on the Weasley matron’s face. She still loved Molly, but their relationship had been strained since her breakup with Ron.
Molly huffed angrily. “Is this inappropriate crush on a man old enough to be your father the reason you and Ron broke up?”
“No.” Hermione once again tried to hold her tongue, and once again the veritaserum was determined to lay her true feelings bare. “The reason that Ron and I broke up was that I considered it ‘inappropriate’ for him to abandon Harry and me when we were looking for horcruxes.”
Molly was obviously unconvinced. “Did Severus Snape groom you?”
“Molly!” Minerva and Remus admonished in tandem.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Mum,” George whispered, “what are you doing? “
Molly was unrepentant. “I’m trying to find out what she did to ruin their relationship.”
George snorted. “Mum, is it so difficult to imagine that it might have been Ron’s fault? I love him, but he’s a bit of a wanker.”
“If it wasn’t Snape, then someone else must have caught her eye. Hermione, are Rita Skeeter’s claims that you are secretly in love with Harry true?”
Hermione’s lips pursed in disdain. “No, they are not correct.”
“Miss Granger,” a familiar drawling baritone addressed her.
No…Fuck…fuckfuckfuck! How long had he been standing there?
She looked up to find Severus Snape leaning against a bookcase. His face was unreadable, but she could somehow still sense his irritation. Her stomach plummeted.
The only person who looked as concerned as she was about the potion master’s appearance was Molly Weasley. The matron had gone distinctly pale. “Severus, I had no idea you were attending the meeting this evening.”
Severus’ expression didn’t change. “Obviously you didn’t think that I would be here or you wouldn’t have been so comfortable accusing me of committing crimes against my students.”
Molly’s lips pressed together in an angry line. “But you’ve committed plenty of others.”
His head tilted to the side, managing to look both quizzical and menacing. “That’s true enough. Let’s not add one more to the list.”
He ignored her thunderous expression, turning his attention back to Hermione. “Miss Granger, have you engaged in any sort of physical relationship with Mister Potter?”
The look of disgust instantly came back. “Absolutely not! Harry’s like my brother.”
Molly glared at Minerva reproachfully. “Why does he get to ask impertinent questions, but I get censured for it?”
Minerva returned Molly’s glare over the rim of her glasses. “Because we do not ask potentially incriminating questions as part of this session. Our goals are to establish identity and intention. Anyone suspected of a crime should be reported to the aurors and subject to methods of questioning deemed ethical by the Wizangamot. As Severus’ question does not put anyone at risk of ending up in Azkaban, it is permitted,” she gave Severus a pointed look, “even if it is asinine.”
George glanced back and forth between Hermione and Severus with a calculating look. A slow, worrying grin spread across his face. “Hermione, what is the scent of your amortentia?”
She forgot how to breathe for a moment. Any chance that Severus might leave the meeting without learning about her crush on him quickly disappeared. “My amortentia smells of old parchment, Shetland wool, Yorkshire Gold tea, and fluxweed.”
Severus’ dark eyes bored into her, and as she feared, the beginnings of a sneer curled his lip. Angelina addressed her before she could get too distracted by his expression. “That’s not what you told us in your sixth year. Why did you lie and tell us your amortentia smelled like freshly mown grass and spearmint?” The teasing lilt to her voice suggested that she already knew the answer.
“I wasn’t ready for people to know about how I felt. I was afraid that if people found out, the information would make its way to him, and he would hate me more than he already did.”
Remus caught Angelina’s eye, a silent alliance forming between them. He addressed Hermione even as he smirked at Severus. “I don’t understand, Hermione. I’ve always found the man difficult to work with.”
Hermione huffed irritably. “Perhaps that’s because the Marauders were less than kind to him in his youth, Professor.”
Remus ignored the bait. “Perhaps, but what could you possibly see in the man?”
She was surprised by how defensive she felt. “I can’t think of another person whose company I’d rather have than his. The man’s mind is prodigious, and if he’d let me, I’d spend our entire lives plumbing its depths.”
The room had gone completely silent, but she was undeterred. “He may not be an especially gentle or kind man, but he is loyal, and his sardonic sense of humor suits me well. He cuts a striking figure, to say nothing of his delightfully angular face. He is in all respects my equal and my match.”
Molly was the first to break the silence. “Severus Snape has always loved Lily Potter. You saw it for yourself in his memories. Why would you foster feelings for someone who will never love you back?”
Hermione closed her eyes, the barb finding purchase in a way that none of the others had. In spite of her desire to withdraw from the pitying eyes of the company, the veritaserum was ruthless. “It’s true that I have no evidence that he returns my affections, but if he ever did, I wouldn’t fear a ghost.”
George butted in before his mother could continue her slow torture. “Hermione, you already have an important role in shaping the future of our world. Why do you want to join the Order of the Phoenix?”
“Ron and Harry have always needed my help. Since one of the functions of the Order is to provide research and information to the DMLE, joining the Order will give me a way to help them without having to micromanage.”
The tension in the room broke as chuckling and a susurration of stifled laughter sounded in the room. Although she didn’t dare meet his gaze, she even heard Severus snicker at her evaluation of her friends’ abilities. Any relief she might have felt was short-lived, however, as the potion pried out all of her secrets.
“I also want to join because it gives me the opportunity to see Severus. He doesn’t attend every meeting, but it gives me a reasonable excuse to be around him.”
Molly looked as though she wanted to object, but Minerva cut her off. “I think you lot have had enough fun for tonight. I move to put it to a vote.”
“Seconded,” George added.
“All in favor of welcoming Hermione Granger to the Order of the Phoenix, say ‘aye’.”
“Aye” the room echoed with the collective response.
“All opposed, say ‘nay’.”
The room was quiet. Molly Weasley’s jaw was working as though she wanted to say something, but a quelling look from George and Angelina silenced her.
Minerva handed Hermione a vial of veritaserum antidote. “As we are unanimous in our decision, I’m very pleased to welcome Hermione Jean Granger to the Order of the Phoenix.”
Hermione quickly popped the cork to thunderous applause and stamping of feet, downing the potion before her loose tongue could get her in more trouble.
Minerva stood from her seat. “Let’s head downstairs and give Hermione a chance to recuperate. Save your congratulations until dinner.”
Hermione cast a heating charm on her cup of tea as the other Order members filed out, sipping quietly for a few minutes. Minerva had closed the floo and relit the fireplace. The crackling of the fire and the occasional splintering of wood slowly soothed her frazzled nerves.
She had no idea how she could ever face Severus again. Even if he hadn’t arrived for her initial confession, he could have no doubt about her feelings for him. Given the fact that he’d made a hasty retreat as soon as Minerva dismissed the meeting, she could easily guess his feelings for her. She’d merely given him one more reason to despise her, as though he needed further inducement.
She set her cup on the side table with a clink. While she was hardly in a mood to socialize, it seemed a better option than to be left stewing in her own thoughts. Given Molly’s vitriol, she made a mental note to check her shepherd’s pie for poison, or worse yet, one of her sons’ wheezes before she tucked in.
She yelped when a long arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into the stacks. A shelf dug into her back, leaving her to stare down a row of black buttons. An elbow caged her in on her right as long fingers came up to gently grip her throat. He gave a teasing squeeze before releasing his grip, his index finger slowly dragging over her jaw and down the length of her neck. He flexed his finger, allowing the knuckle to nestle in the hollow of her throat.
“Plumb my depths, Miss Granger?” he whispered silkily. “Is that what you wish to do? Funny how I’ve never heard anything of it before today.”
“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t exactly know how best to approach the subject. It’s not exactly easy to go up to someone who’s always seemed to despise you and say ‘fancy dinner and a shag…possibly for the rest of our lives?’”
He was close enough that she felt the puff of air when he chuckled. “You could have saved the ‘for the rest of our lives’ bit until later. It’s not necessary to throw all your cards on the table at once.”
“Well, as you can see, I didn’t have the courage to play even a single card before today.”
“So you thought that the appropriate course of action was to confess your feelings in front of the entire Order?” he teased.
“In all fairness, I didn’t know the questions would reveal that particular secret.”
“It’s alright. If I’m being perfectly frank, there was a reason why Molly was so pushy tonight.”
Hermione was surprised by the hint of color in his cheeks. “All of the Order members went through this process after the war. Did Molly uncover something when they were questioning you?”
“She may have discovered that I’ve had an interest in you since the end of the war.”
The pieces finally clicked into place. “That’s why they were so ruthless about asking me questions about you. They already knew how you felt.”
“Indeed. While Molly was furious, I suspect everyone else was trying to show me that my feelings were returned.”
She toyed with one of the buttons on his frock coat. “It’s a very Slytherin thing to allow others to do the work of finding out my feelings.”
Severus smirked. “And yet not so Slytherin a thing to tell you directly that your feelings are returned.”
She looked up at him then, her expression turning serious. “They are?”
He gave a small nod, stroking a thumb over her cheek. “They are.”
She stood on tiptoe, crushing her lips against his. His hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, tilting her head as he pressed his open lips to hers. She understood the silent request, parting her lips. He seized on the invitation, surging forward until his tongue met hers.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him flush with her. She needed him to surround her, to box her in. He crowded in, pressing her firmly against the shelves as he loomed over her.
“Miss Granger, would you be interested in dinner and a shag…possibly for the rest of our lives if things go to plan?”
“Yes,” she beamed up at him, her cheek brushing his as she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “but I think I’d like a bit of dessert before dinner.”
She took his hand, leading him away from the stacks. The wizard wore a feral grin as she pushed him down into the chair she’d occupied during the questioning. His hands slipped under her dress, gripping the hem of her blue cotton knickers and slowly dragging them down her thighs. Her skin erupted in goosebumps as his fingertips tracked down the outside of her thighs.
He pulled her onto his lap, rucking up her dress so he could cup her arse in his warm, calloused hands. She immediately attacked his buttons, plucking each one from its hole with a zeal that drew a smirk from the dark wizard as he watched her. When she arrived at the last button, she pushed the sides apart, a pout forming as soon as she saw that he had a long-sleeved linen shirt underneath the wool coat.
He snickered at her obvious disappointment. “What did you think, Hermione? Did you imagine that I wear a wool coat with nothing underneath? I shudder to think of the chafing.”
Hermione finished the last of the buttons, flexing her fingers in the dark mat of his chest hair. “But that’s part of the appeal. All that coarse Shetland wool rubbing your nipples raw. Her eager hands found his brown nipples, pinching them between her fingers.
His hissed in her ear when she dropped her head to flick her tongue over the captive tip. “Fuck, witch!”
He pulled her forward, encouraging her to rock her hips. She took the hint, grinding down on the placket of his trousers. Her lips parted on a pitiful whimper at the first drag of his harsh wool over her swollen clit.
Severus chuckled darkly as he loosened the first few buttons on the front of her dress. “Now I see why you really fantasize about wool, Miss Granger. You've been longing to squirm on your old professor’s lap until you come like a good girl.” He deftly unhooked the front of her bra, pushing the sides of her dress open enough to expose her pebbled nipples. “Tell me, you little minx, why is the scent of fluxweed part of your amorentia?”
Her rocking stilled for a moment, her eyes wide. “I– It’s because it’s related to the mustard family. I like spicy things.”
He pinched one of her tight nipples, earning a startled cry for his trouble. “I think you know better than to lie to me.”
“Your fingers,” she murmured.
“Speak up,” he demanded sternly.
“When Slughorn was ill and you filled in for him in potions, you were showing us how to prepare the ingredients for polyjuice potion. You crushed a stem of fluxweed plant between your fingers—”
She fell silent, her cheeks crimson. “And?” Severus prompted.
She started stroking the hair on his chest with one hand nervously. “And the blooms smeared purple pigment all over your thumb and index finger. It was the first time I really noticed your fingers.”
Hermione’s breath hitched as Severus slowly traced his index finger up the purple, velvety scar from Dolohov’s curse. He adopted his best bored drawl. “And what was the significance of this observation, Miss Granger?”
Her hips jerked instinctively. “It was the first time I thought about what your fingers could do to me.”
“Like this?” he whispered, pinching her other nipple between his index finger and thumb before gently twisting the taut peak.
“Yes!” she hissed, her hips resuming their frantic rocking.
She leaned into his touch as he plucked her nipples, tugging and releasing her wrinkled areolas at a leisurely pace. She leaned forward, dragging her tongue over the taut pink scars along his shoulder and neck. Her back arched as he pinched her more roughly, two more passes over his rough wool pulling her orgasm from her.
Her face was buried in his neck, air fanning out over his skin as she recovered. Severus kissed her forehead, stroking her arms soothingly, but she showed little interest in slowing down. She reached between them, quickly unbuttoning his trousers.
“You’re going to need to rethink your wardrobe, Professor.”
“Why is that? I thought you liked wool?”
He groaned as she fished his cock from his pants, running her thumb over the prominent veins as she stroked his firm length. He rutted into her fist, precum dripping over his frenulum and spreading over his shaft as he thrust. Hermione gripped him firmly to stop the motion, moving up on his lap to line him up with her entrance.
“Of course I love your wool, but from now on, you’re going to be wearing me more often than your trousers.”
His wanton moan echoed hers as she sank over him, and for a moment he was overwhelmed by pleasure. When she whimpered and shuffled awkwardly on her knees, Severus realized that she was struggling. She gripped his shoulders for leverage, but before she could try to take him fully, Severus’ hands found her hips to stop her.
“Let me help,” he whispered soothingly.
His hand slid up her back, pulling her forward until her breasts were nestled against his chest. His free hand slipped between them, fingers splayed over her mons as his thumb slipped between her lips to find the nub still slick with her earlier release. Hermione buried her nose in the crook of his neck as he rubbed firm circles over her clit.
Her breathy whines fanned over his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. She slowly responded to his touch, sinking down until her arse met his thighs. She took a shuddering breath as she wiggled in his lap, silently pleading with him to move, to soothe the throbbing between her thighs. He paid no mind to her sigh of protest when his thumb left her clit, gripping her hip with one hand as the other folded over the back of her shoulder to keep her firmly in place.
“Good girl,” he rumbled in her ear. “I need you to relax and trust me if you’re planning to be my little cocksleeve.”
He tugged hard on her shoulder as his hips snapped up, forcing a keening cry from his witch. Hermione’s hands scrambled for purchase, one finding its home in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other clutched the back of the chair. His coarse chest hair chafed her nipples, and her thighs and arse turned pink with his ruthless pounding.
In spite of the frantic movement, he still managed to taunt her. “Is this what you imagined, Miss Granger,” he bit out through gritted teeth, “or did you envision a casual cock warming? Did you honestly think it would be easy being mine?”
She huffed a laugh into his neck. “I’ve never assumed that anything about you is easy, so don’t hold back on me now, Severus.”
His strangled groan echoed through the library as his arms banded tightly around her. Her entire body shook with his renewed efforts, her wild ringlets bouncing as he fucked up into her. The feeling of her teeth digging into his shoulder as she came triggered his own release. Her cunt fluttered around him, siphoning rope after rope of cum from the exhausted wizard.
He kept his arms around her, panting into the crown of her head. “It’s not enough to have my cock? You need to drain my balls dry, you little succubus?”
She clenched around him unrepentantly. “I did warn you that I like dessert before dinner.”
“Speaking of which, we should probably head downstairs before they send a search party up for us.”
She buried her nose in his neck again. “Do we have to? I was rather hoping that it would just be the two of us for the rest of the night.”
He stroked the long length of her spine, a smitten grin forming at the knowledge that she preferred his company above others. “The dinner is part of your celebration, so I’m afraid you have to attend.” He snickered at her petulant pout. “I’ll make you a deal. You can have me all to yourself when you come to my place after dinner.”
He could feel her smile against his skin. “That would be acceptable.”
They took their time helping each other right their clothing. The feeling of Hermione’s fingers against his skin as she refastened each of his buttons by hand nearly created another round of distractions, but Severus reminded her that the sooner they went to dinner, the sooner they could leave.
They could already hear the raucous laughter and the clink of glasses as they descended the stairs. A brief moment of doubt made Hermione pause before entering the kitchen. As much as Severus had made it clear that he wanted to be together, he’d given no indication that he was prepared to confirm their new relationship to their friends.
Severus seemed to sense her train of thought, smirking at her as he offered her his arm. She smiled up at him, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. She marveled at the rightness of it, the feeling of her hand flanked by wool and held snugly against his side.
They turned the corner into the kitchen, and this time when they were greeted with applause and wolf whistles, Hermione didn’t turn crimson. Severus grinned smugly as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and everyone in the room understood that his tolerance of such affection was tantamount to a declaration of love. For the first time, they were both glad that their friends and colleagues were relentlessly nosy busybodies.