Hermione groaned and pressed her hand to her head. There was that whole herd of hippogriffs again. The one that simply loved to pound and clatter through her head after a rough night.

But it hadn't been a rough night…had it?

She frowned. What had she been drinking? Lunch had been lovely and light…and Pippy's special jam was a wild mix of delicious summer fruits and a secret slice of house-elf magic.

And Severus…he'd been just as delicious. Hers. Just hers. All hers. And they had—

Hermione frowned into the magically empty darkness. There were no wards. No comforting brush of Orcadian magic against her seeking senses.

A hollowness bloomed in her chest. It was dark and cold, with the nip of winter in the air. Had it all…? Oh..oh gods… Had everything been a dream? A fantasy whipped up by her feverishly wanting brain? Her plan at New Year had been to fling herself at her dark and brooding former professor—

The heavy duvet shifted and with the dip of her wide mattress, an arm, hot and lithe and…and male snaked around her and yanked her to back to a naked chest. To a naked everything.

A squeak broke from her, panicked and quick. Her fingers wrapped around the strong wrist. She frowned down at it. Was it his hand? Severus…? Or had she fallen into bed with someone else?

Her heart lurched at the thought. At betraying… She sucked in a nervous breath and willed her courage forward. "Severus…?"

His name came out as little more than a whisper and bound tight with hope. Her heart drummed and her eyes squeezed shut as wandering fingers cupped her naked breast. A thumb lazily stroked over her nipple.

"Hmmm?"

She swallowed, praying to any passing deity that the rough grumble was an acknowledgement of his name, not a 'what the hell?!'

"Severus, wake up."

"It's still dark out, witch. You have despoiled me enough for one night." He gave her breast a more than friendly squeeze. "I will worship these and you with the first light."

Hermione bit her lip, a grin breaking from her. Tears leaked. Even thick with sleep, there was no mistaking the silken rumble of one very-much-wanted Severus Snape.

"I think…I think it's morning now."

An insane theory was whipping around her dazed thoughts. Through the dark and the cold. Something utterly mad, but…the Babylonian spell was wicked and twisty and quite, quite brilliant.

Hermione slid her fingers under her pillow and found the intricate carving of her wand. Magic sparked under her fingers and she pulled in the wild swirl of her emotions. It wouldn't do to set her bed on fire, after all. Nothing—absolutely nothing—would drive her out of it that morning. Not…not again.

She pulled her wand free and flicked a dimmed tempus charm into the air—

And froze.

"Merlin's hairy gonads!"

Severus' lips found her shoulder, his face buried in the no doubt wild and ravening bush that was her morning hair. "Can you not bring other wizards into our bed, madam?"

The hot length of his so-very-bare flesh was almost, almost enough of a distraction from the date burning the air before her. He truly did have the most deliciously wonderful body under all those layers of wool…

"Severus. Look. Look at the date."

With a low grumble that chased through her flesh, Severus lifted his head. He stilled. "No. That…that is impossible."

The time and date were scorched a proper white in air before them. Proof of the charm's working.

Seven o'clock. Anno tempus. 1 January 2000.

"We're back, Severus. Back. We never…"

She hadn't leapt from her bed, unsure and panicking, broadcasting her thoughts for him to go. To get out. Get away so she could think. And he, his insecurities about her wanting him, that he hadn't been a drunken mistake weren't there to drive him out of her flat leaving only smoking clean sheets in his wake.

All of it had been wiped clean by one utterly fucking wonderful spell.

Hermione turned in his arms, grinning at him. She kissed the tip of his nose. "The past —I suppose now it's the future— six months. They never happened."

Severus' dark gaze fixed on her, but she doubted he saw her. Disbelief still clouded him. The heel of his hand inched across his chest to work over the golden rune scored into his sternum. The thrum of the spell chased over her own flesh.

"It did." He closed his eyes and breathed, just breathed. "I did all of those things. But…the spell forgave me." His eyes opened and he was with her, his black gaze sharp…and wicked. "And now I have you, my sweet girl. My wife."

His mouth teased over hers, slow and sweet and a broken mewl escaped her. His. His wife. Her husband. Merlin…magic was fucking brilliant.

A shadow darkened his eyes further and Severus let out a long breath. "I was never so happy as the moment, I woke up the first time, this first time, in your bed, Hermione Granger. Never." He cupped her cheek, his strong thumb teasing over her bottom lip. "Gods, girl." He pulled her back to him and she couldn't help the desperate squeak. Strong arms wrapped around her as tight as Devil's Snare and she pressed her face to the warmth of his chest, to the gold heat of his rune-mark. "Don't… don't say 'you don't know what to do'."

"Never." She pressed her chin to him, meeting his gaze and smiled. "Never again."

She blinked. Everything. Everything had been wiped clean, every point their lives had touched. The strange wizard she'd danced with would never plague her and Malfoy. "Severus. Your patent. Riva Malfoy, losing your patent, all that didn't happen."

Severus laughed, a rich low and satisfied sound. Something decidedly…Slytherin. "No, sweet witch. A future swept clean. And we will carry on as we were meant to. Us. Together."

She agreed. "But…" The entanglement spell was an utter bitch of a piece of magic. "It's a paradox. How are we affected by the spell, how do you have this bloody sigil," he sucked in a breath as she slipped her palm over it, "when we will never move through the time and the events to find it?"

Severus smiled at her and caught his fingers in the wild mass of her hair, drawing it back from her face. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and her frown of confusion eased away under his affection. "I don't care."

She blinked. "What? How can you not want to know? How—"

"Hermione. I lost you."

He closed his eyes, and the dim light of the room greyed the pained creases of his face. She pressed a kiss to the sigil and a warmth chased through them both, a clear and forgiving magic.

Severus let out a slow breath and his dark eyes fixed on hers. "The…insanity of this magic made it so that never happened. I will take that and I will not look back."

He was right. Poking at it, questioning it could unravel the bliss it had wrought. She would find other puzzles to solve. The Archive was, after all, full of them.

"Though…"

A dark smirk pulled at this mouth and the traitorous little curl of heat twisted low in her belly. His eyes sparked —he knew fine well what that smirk did to her— and a large hand slipped down the plane of her palm to cup her arse. She squeaked and his smirk deepened.

"Pippy should send Riva a consignment of her extra special jam. I'm certain my never-fiancee would appreciate it. My…unexplainable thank you."

"Severus…"

"What?"

His smirk was back. Wicked —and delicious— man.

"That's vindictive and nasty."

He lifted an eyebrow and gave her an elegant nod. His lips twitched. "And a good morning to you, Miss Granger, isn't it? I'm emeritus Professor Severus Snape, I don't believe we've met?"

Hermione glared at him for half a heartbeat before laughter broke from her. She flung herself at him, earning a grunt from the man and throwing him back in the deep mattress. A tussle of duvet and sheets and she straddled his hips, and oh —oh— wasn't that nice…

She rolled over the hard length of his cock, letting it tease her, chase the building ache in her flesh.

Severus stared up at her, his eyes gleaming. Long fingers traced along her thighs, his thumbs drawing soft patterns against the sensitive inner plane. That eyebrow arched further. "Are you always this…over-familiar on first acquaintance, madam?"

"Yes, yes, I am."

She gripped him and he sucked in a tight breath. Easing up on her knees, she drew herself over him and his gaze, black and hot, scorched her. Fuck. Fuck. He was…debauched, his perfect lips parted in pleasure. Black hair splayed wild over her simple, white pillow, his lithe body tense. A flush of colour chased over the tightness of his pale cheeks, the strain of his throat and shoulders.

Beautiful. So beautiful. And hers.

The ache that had chased through Hermione's flesh for far too long, the need, the want of this wizard, magic had satisfied. Seen her gifted with him. Bound them together. Always.

Hermione slid down, taking him, matching his slow, slow hiss of utter pleasure. She pressed her hand to his chest, to the golden sigil that joined them. Magic surged, hot and thick and the bliss of it rocked his body up to hers.

Oh, yes, she planned to be very over-familiar for a very long time.