Sorry for the lateness. I've started writing a steampunk. And that usually means reading 5 books for every 100 words. *sigh*

Anyway, there are two more chapters after this. The next one will be the smexxy, so it could be a couple of weeks in the writing. :)

Hermione ran a quick spell over her clothes, wanting to take out the worst of the creases. The mirror over the fireplace displayed the shock of her hair. She let out a low sigh. Orcadian winds and Severus Snape's fingers had inflicted irreparable damage on her already wild curls.

Severus dropped a kiss to her forehead. "I should not want you with any other style."

She glared at him and he had the temerity to smirk. She scrubbed her hands over her face. "She is so…"

"It is a…cold perfection. Lucius tried to offer a warning and I will have to suffer his smugness. He pointed out Riva was not right for me." His eyes softened. "And she is not you. You," he tucked a wild strand behind her ear and his twitch of a smile was almost gentle, "you are absolute perfection."

A breath caught him, lifting his chest and he blinked. Her hand pressed instinctively to his chest, and even through the layers of silk and wool, his betrothal rune thrummed. Sweet and sure.

"I was just…rewarded for being courteous to my witch."

Hermione bit her lip to deny her bright grin. "An interesting consequence with which we should…experiment?" She lifted her eyebrow in an attempt to mimic him.

His lips pursed. "Your delivery needs work, Miss Granger." His finger stroked the curve of her eyebrow. "And more effort needs to be applied here. I give you an…Acceptable."

She growled at him. "Hardly rewarding yourself, Master Snape."

"I would prefer," his mouth dipped to her ear, his warm lips brushing the shell, "that I…compliment you in the privacy of my very large bed. With the many-varied instruments at my disposable. One of which is this voice. Would that not be preferable, Miss Granger?"

Hermione almost swayed. He was a devil, a very demon sent to torment her…and she'd happily rush to damn herself. She wet parched lips. It was an echo of New Year's Eve and their shadowy little corner. Her heart twisted, aching for that moment, when there had been no pain. No separation and doubt. But he was hers… Hers, now. He had her mark golden-scored into his chest. "That would be…lovely."

Severus' mouth curved against her skin and she sucked in a breath. His pause strained her nerves, before he whispered, "Should you also be bound and tethered?"

She squeaked and his low laughter rippled a quick pleasure through her flesh. "I…"

He drew back and the room rushed at her, light and scent dizzying her thoughts. She clutched at his arm and he smirked, but there was affection in his dark eyes. It hollowed her chest.

Severus stroked a finger down her cheek and played a line across her chin. "Let us clear the path before I draw all reason from you."

Her eyes fluttered shut. It really wasn't fair that he would say such things in so correct a manner and in that voice and have her knicker-soakingly ready to jump him. And then deny her. Git.

Severus took her hand and drew her from the small sitting room.

Sunlight shafted through the shadows and the open hall…welcomed her. She could feel it, the wards and something more brushing against her skin, her thoughts. It pulled a smile from her and Severus lifted an eyebrow.

"The Hall likes me."

"I'd noticed. It's like an overeager crup."

"I like crups." She grinned at him and patted the ornate scrollwork on the doorframe through which they passed. The wards thrummed and Severus swore under his breath. Her laughter echoed along the candlelit passage.

All too soon, he stopped outside another darkwood door. He lifted her chin in gentle fingers and dipped his mouth to hers. The ghost of a kiss touched her lips, his breath sweet and warm. Hermione's heart swelled, the old ache vanishing under his touch.

"I love you."

The words burned, scorched and Hermione made a strange sort of undignified squeak that drew yet another rumble of soft laughter from Severus. "That I almost, very nearly silenced you." His lips brushed hers again and she licked them, chasing his taste. "I must try harder."

"Harder. Yes."

His smirk was purely carnal. "And where are your thoughts now, Miss Granger?"

She glared at him. "Evil man."

He allowed it with a slow incline of his head. "Of course." He straightened and eased back from her. "Now we bait the dragon in her den."

"Your den."

He said nothing and opened the door to a golden, sunlit room. Books lined every inch from floor to ceiling. A great mahogany desk was set before mullioned windows and on the nearby wall, an arched fireplace crackled with a newly lit fire.

Riva sat in the desk's highback leather chair, facing away from the window. Tea things littered the surface of the table-top in between neat stacks of parchment. Pippy stood beside her, wringing her long, gnarled hands. Her ears were flat.

"But She, She should be wanting it. The finest Scottish strawberries, grown in the Hall's good soil, made with a recipe passed down through generations of Pippy's family. She—"

"For the final time—" Riva caught herself, the hard edge slipping from her voice. Hermione bit down a smile. Pippy did so love her jam. She was a good elf. "I do not require jam. Tea will suffice."

"Just a spoonful, She." Pippy's ears gave a hopeful prick upwards. "With the lightest of scones. It's no trouble—"

"Severus!" His name came out quick and hot, before her glacial gaze moved onto Hermione. Her lips pressed together. Just a faction. But it was there, and on a witch such as Riva Malfoy, it counted as a full-on scowl. "Miss Granger."

Hermione's smile was bright and genuine. "Miss Malfoy."

"Pippy, could you return to the kitchen, please?" Severus nodded to the little elf. "We'll take a light lunch in the small dining hall."

Pippy bobbed her head, her luminous eyes flicking from him to Hermione. She beamed, her little face crinkling. "Good. Good. As master wishes. And I have the special jam. I has saved it. Yes." And with faint crack she was gone.

"Really?" Riva shook her head. "She must go, Severus."

He bid Hermione sit in the plush chair warming at the fire, whilst he took the leather chair before the desk. Riva stilled and Hermione's gut squeezed tight. Only moments in her company, and Hermione was already too aware of how formidable a witch Riva Malfoy was. And Severus was about to scramble her no doubt well-made plans.

"What do you want?"

Riva lifted a thin, blonde eyebrow at Severus' blunt opening. He was not treating her as a fool, but it was a very unSlytherin why to start a deal.

The blonde witch tilted her head. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "What is she worth?"

Severus sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs. He was the very picture of urbane calm. "What price breaks our engagement?"

Riva's pale eyes gleamed and Hermione was sure it was avarice that put the hint of pink in her cheeks, not distress at a lost love. "Is she worth everything to you, Severus Snape? You house, your company." Her smile was sly. "Your very name?"

Hermione gasped and she was already out of her chair, wand in hand, to hex the bitch into next week. How dare she believe, for one single second, that she'd take so much from her husband—

Severus put up his hand and Hermione, reluctantly, slumped back into her chair. He couldn't give up everything, just for her. And the engagement was hardly legal…but would Riva drag him through the press with news of his attempted bigamy? It almost made her head spin, as entangled as the spell that had got them into this trouble in the first place.

He lifted an eyebrow, his expression calm, unruffled. "We have taken tea together, Riva. Discussed and pondered so many things."

Riva Malfoy was a statue, so still Hermione doubted she was breathing. Was that a threat Severus had issued? What did he know about the cool, sharp witch?

Her eyes narrowed briefly. "Yes, many things."

And there, she knew Severus' secrets. Hermione ignored the little hard twist in her belly. There was no need for jealousy. Not now.

He tapped his finger to his lips."I will agree to one thing and the matter will be closed. Never to be discussed again, in any form, to anyone." He paused, his dark eyes fixed on the blonde witch. "My hangover potion."

Hermione pressed a hand to her mouth to stop her need to shout, 'No!'. His excellent potion was worth millions. Millions. It had made his name. Made his fortune. Finally cemented his good name in their world. There wasn't one witch or wizard that didn't praise Severus Snape the morning after a hard night.

Hermione glared at the smug witch—and even though her expression hadn't changed—Hermione knew she was bloody smug about that offer. Cow. Complete and utter cow.

"The deal is…fair." Riva coated the word with an undercurrent of distaste. As if she wasn't about to bite his hand off. "I agree. Your recipe for my sole use. You will stop manufacture and hand over all current stock to me. I will re-label and rebrand – with the proviso that it has your mark on it, clearly printed." Her lips pinched. "Your name is your own." She lifted her eyebrow. "Your wand on it, Severus."

He waited through too many of Hermione's panicked heartbeats. How was he so bloody calm? He uncrossed his legs and straightened. "Only that proviso on stock from my brewery. Once you begin anew, you cannot claim my mark on the newly branded stock."

A frown marred her forehead. Her lips grew thinner. But she could not give up such a lucrative deal. "Agreed."

Magic flared between them, sealing their pact. Riva rose, Severus following, and she piled her sheaves of parchment together. She shrank them, slipped them into a discreet pocket in her robes and walked around the desk to stand before him. She moved uncomfortably close to him. Uncomfortable to Hermione, whose wand had again slipped into her hand.

Riva's fingers almost, almost brushed his chest and the bite of their binding spell fired through Hermione. She bit down on a growl. Riva tilted her head up, her profile chillingly perfect. "She will bring nothing to you, Severus. You're throwing away untold riches."

"I am rich enough."

Riva's long, pale fingers traced the air above his jaw, a dark, crafty smile tilting her lips. "You always thought me cold, Severus. Once we were married, I would have shown you my other side. The dark, dark depths. Untold delights..." Her index finger drew a line of air above his lips, which only made Severus lift a bemused eyebrow, and inched higher—

Hermione snatched the witch's hand away, her fingers a fierce band around Riva's so-delicate wrist. Riva gasped, stumbling back. Shock burst across her serene features. Was she expecting something less muggle?

Hermione heart pounded, the wild rush of adrenaline swirling her thoughts. It was insanity, but the surge of anger at the thought of another witch touching Severus' nose—

She snapped her hand away before she blurted that embarrassing fact out. "Please, leave, Miss Malfoy." A flick of her wand opened the door to the study.

Riva's mouth turned down at the corners. "You're a fool, Severus Snape." With a snap of her robes she stalked from the study and disappeared into the shadows.

The door thunked shut behind her and Hermione turned to her husband.

Severus yelped at the hard hand that hit his arm. "I will not be slapped, witch." He grabbed Hermione and pulled her into strong arms. "What are you about?"

"You gave up your work!" Hermione pressed her face to his chest and breathed him in, willing her heart to calm. She loved him for it. But he shouldn't have given that foul witch one brass knut.

"You are worth that and more." He stroked back the wild tangle of her hair and pressed a kiss to her nose. His voice was soft, sure. "I would have given her everything for you…but, you like this house, and its elves, and I have to have some way to support myself." His grin was sly and wicked. "And if she had my name, how could by sweet little witchling cry it out in ecstasy?"

Her mouth dried, and she simply stared at him. Her thoughts cleared. "But that potion…"

"…Is one of many." He brushed a kiss across her parted lips. "Yes, it is popular. It sells very well. However, I am more than a single potion. I am not yet destitute."

Pippy appeared with a soft crack. "Lunch is ready." She grinned and gave a happy little shudder. "I have my special jam. Also She has left." Pippy shook her head. "She would be so much happier with a good dollop of jam in her life."

Severus smirked and Hermione caught the gleam of devilment in his dark eyes. "Yes, I do believe she would."

Pippy beamed at him and with another crack she was gone.

He pressed a light kiss to Hermione's lips. Taking her hand, he led the way out of the study. His smile was sharp in the shadows of the passageway. "Lunch, witch, and after I believe we should find something to entertain us."

This was a chapter that did not want to be written. Evil thing. Let me know what you think!