A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely Annette. noble. 75, who gave the 100th review for Natural Disaster. Thanks so much for your support, and I hope you like it!

Also, a guest pointed out to me that I forgot to mention Hermione's age here. This takes place in April of sixth year, so Hermione is seventeen. Actually, depending on how much time you add from the Time Turner, she may even be eighteen.

She was standing near the lake, watching the water ripple as the rain drops broke the surface. It had started out as a light shower, but it was pouring steadily now. She could feel the water soaking into her hair; her clothes; even her skin. Droplets trickled down her forehead and fell past her eyes, which blinked the water away. Letting the rain wash away the hopelessness and the fear that came with the war, she allowed herself to forget about Voldemort's return. Memories of their failure at the Department of Mysteries fled her mind. Worries about what was to come were put on hold.

All that was left was her.

Her mind was clear and empty. She calmed her thoughts until she was totally at peace with herself and the world around her. For the time being, there was no war. There wasn't a megalomaniac trying to kill her best friend and take over the entire world. There weren't stuck-up Purebloods who believed she was nothing because she was Muggleborn. There weren't any twinkling headmasters, irritating peers, or admirable-yet-infuriating Potions Masters.

She was all there was.

This was why April was one of her favorite months. The rain that came with spring let her find peace. Nobody would be looking for her out here- who in their right minds would be out in this weather?- and she could find herself in solitude and claps of thunder.

For now, while she stood and let all of her problems wash away in the rain, she could let her argument with the aforementioned Potions Master slip from her thoughts. She loved him, she really did, but sometimes she needed him to show her that sweet, gentle side that he only showed to her, and he had given her snark and sarcasm. Normally, she gave as good as she got, leading to some fantastic banter, but today just wasn't one of those days. No, today was definitely not a good time for a conversation with Professor Snape when what she wanted was a conversation with Severus.

After the last class of the day, Hermione went to his rooms and stayed with him for an hour or two before heading back to her dormitory. She'd gotten there first today- he'd given her access to his quarters ages ago- and, after wandering a bit aimlessly through the rooms she knew as well as her own, found herself in the bathroom. She still didn't know what had made her do it, but she took a look at herself, then peeled off her shirt. Removing the glamour, she stood in her bra and school skirt, scrutinizing the way the scar from Dolohov curved from her left collarbone, down between her now slightly-disfigured breasts, and around the rest of her abdomen before stopping right above her right hip. The scar was a faint pink line that marred her flesh and made her feel unworthy of Severus.

She knew full-well how stupid that was, but it didn't change how she felt.

She'd been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't heard him come in. She was unaware of him calling her name, walking around his chambers to find her.

Then he was there.

It had actually taken her a moment to realize she was no longer alone in the bathroom, but when she did, she'd turned to face him. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

How could she explain this to him? Was there any way she could possibly explain to this man- the one she loved, the one she wanted to give herself over to completely but didn't know how- what she was doing, how she felt, and why?

Still trying to think of what to say, looking down at her feet as she did so, she didn't see his dark eyes taking in the same scar she'd just been worrying over. In the back of her mind, she thought idly that this wasn't exactly how she'd wanted Severus to see her half-naked for the first time.

As far as intimacy went for Hermione and Severus, it hadn't extended past hot, passionate kisses and small, exploratory touches. Neither were used to the idea of anybody being attracted to them, and they were both severely lacking in confidence about their appearances- not that they really cared most of the time.

There had been one conversation of the sort months ago.

They'd been sitting and reading by the fire, curled together on the couch. Some part of her mind must have registered that he'd stopped turning pages because she suddenly looked up and met his gaze.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he'd murmured, then gone straight back to his book. Once she'd pulled herself together enough to respond, she ran her fingers lightly through his hair and said, "So are you, Severus."

His eyes lifted from the pages before him, only to look down at her skeptically. She knew what he was thinking, and immediately put those thoughts to rest.

"Severus Snape, don't you open that wonderful mouth of yours; keep quiet and hear me out." She didn't miss the flash of surprise on his face at her tone before it was gone again. "Whether you believe it or not, you are beautiful to me, Severus. Your eyes, your smile, your hands, your voice, your mind, and your heart. I won't lie to you and tell you you're perfect, but I will say that you're perfect for me. I… I love you, Severus."

He looked a bit taken aback, but his arms tightened around her, and a gentle kiss was placed on the top of her head.

"And I, you, Hermione."

That memory always made her smile, and it was a mark of how bothered she was when she didn't this time. Instead, she forced herself to look back up at Severus, her eyes meeting his.

Before she had the chance to speak, however, Severus- more like Professor Snape, really- had already begun doing so.

"Is there a reason you are standing in my bathroom and looking at yourself with no shirt on, or are you actually as self-centered as most are at your age?' he sneered, giving her a disdainful look she would expect to see in the classroom, but not when they were alone together.

Normally, she would have made some kind of witty retort. Normally, she would have been thankful that he had seen the scar and wasn't treating her any differently. But she didn't respond in a sarcastic manner, nor did she appreciate his mildly acerbic comment.

Instead, she'd fought back tears as anger welled up inside her. Pulling her shirt back on, she moved to leave. He was so surprised by her actions that it was easy for Hermione to get through the door and escape his chambers before she said or did anything she would regret.

Now she was here. In hindsight, he'd probably just had a terrible day and was getting all the feelings that came with it out of his system, which had occurred on numerous occasions. Severus had learned in the past year or so that he could let things off his chest and it wouldn't bother her. Hermione had a feeling that this was all that had happened, and now that she was gone, he was probably in his room getting drunk and cursing himself for ruining what they had.

He hadn't though.

She would go back to him.

She always did.

She probably always would.

Damn it all to bloody hell, Severus. Why the hell did you say that? She was obviously upset about something, and what do you do? Bugger it up, just like you always knew you would!

Severus sank onto the bed with a sigh. It had been a long day of many explosions, melted cauldrons, and ignorant dunderheads that still thought Potions was a class where one could go without paying attention. It was no excuse for how he'd acted towards Hermione, though.

He would normally have been drunk by now, but it was difficult to think of ways to earn his witch's forgiveness while intoxicated. So, he sat and he thought.

What would she expect him to do?

Oh. Hermione most likely assumed he was doing what he'd been doing since she'd walked out, only she probably thought he was inebriated. That was usually how he dealt with stressful things such as this. He needed to be unpredictable.

He ran through the situation in his mind. He'd come in the bathroom, found her looking at herself in the mirror with no shirt on, and he'd snapped at her. What had she been… oh.

Of course he'd noticed her scar; he just had so many of his own that hers was of no consequence to him. She was beautiful to him nonetheless, no matter how many scars she had. But, he knew she had her moments when she was as insecure as he was. What if this had been one of those? How would he have felt if he were caught contemplating a feature that bothered him and she had come in and said something like that? Severus had a feeling it would hurt more coming from her than from anybody else. He supposed it might be the same for her.

So, what could he do to fix this?

Buying her something was out; she'd appreciate anything he gave her, but he didn't feel it would be meaningful enough. He could cook for her, but that was assuming he could convince her to return to his chambers, and he wasn't quite sure that would work. She'd read almost his entire personal library- books on Dark Magic aside- and was currently borrowing the few she hadn't. Maybe brew her a rare potion? No, not relevant to what he'd done wrong.

Then it hit him.

Rushing from his rooms, he cast a simple "point me" so he could find Hermione and convince her that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever known, scar or no scar.

It didn't take very long for the spell to lead him to her, and he was more than a little surprised by where she was. He was standing in the doorway of the school, looking out at her. Part of him wanted to turn around and deal with this later- or not at all- but he knew that would be a bad idea. While he had no desire to step out into the torrential downpour, he wanted to lose Hermione even less.

With that thought in mind, Severus began striding across the grounds towards his witch; he was focused so intently on her that it didn't even occur to him to cast an impervious charm to keep dry. He'd barely taken five steps and he was already drenched.

If she heard him approaching, she didn't show it. She seemed to be completely unaware of her surroundings, and Severus didn't think he'd ever seen her look so at peace and carefree. He just stood and observed her for a moment, trying to decide how to go about this, eventually making up his mind.

"Hermione."

He had to speak louder than he normally would to be heard over the rain, and it was then he thought of the charm, casting it so that it went around them like a bubble. She had yet to turn and face him, but she'd tensed when he called her name. Taking a deep breath, Severus spoke.

"Hermione, will you please turn around?" He paused, waiting until she did so to continue. When she was facing him, though, she still wouldn't meet his gaze. With a heavy sigh, he went on.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you; you didn't deserve it- but you already know that. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you've already figured out that I've had a terrible day and I took my frustrations out on you, even though I shouldn't have. I apologize; I am aware that I was unfair to you.

"I also think I know what the underlying issue here is."

That got her attention; those eyes were trained on his, and in them he could see pain and fear and… something quiet and burning that he couldn't quite ascertain, but he had a feeling it was akin to anger.

"Oh, do tell," she said, tone even but with a hint of warning. She may have been his student and nearly twenty years his junior, but Hermione had no qualms with putting Severus in his place when she felt she needed to.

He hesitantly stepped closer to her, reaching out so one of his long, pale hands was caressing her cheek. Hermione's eyes softened the tiniest bit at the gentleness of his gesture, but he could tell he wasn't forgiven yet.

"I believe that you- you unbelievably intelligent, unfailingly loyal, and irresistibly beautiful girl- saw something you perceived as a flaw and you panicked. I believe you felt… unworthy- although I can't possibly fathom how that could be the case- and when you needed reassurance that you are all I need whether or not you are scarred, I put my needs before your own and I hurt you. Just knowing that I've made you feel this way causes me more pain than you could ever know, but I need you to understand something. That scar does not take away from you in the slightest. It does not make me think any less of you. It doesn't change the way I feel about you. That scar is a sign of your bravery and your unwavering belief in doing what's right. It is a mark of strength and it is a part of you. It is as beautiful to me as the rest of you. I love you, Hermione- all of you. Don't ever think otherwise."

By the time he was finished speaking, there were tears trickling down Hermione's cheeks- well, he assumed they were tears rather than raindrops; her eyes were red and a bit puffy. His other hand came to her other cheek and his thumbs began wiping the moisture away.

"I love you, too, Severus," she said softly. His heart swelled like it did every time he heard her say it. Severus didn't think he'd ever said something that heartfelt, not even to Lily, but he'd meant every word. If he and Hermione both survived the war, he'd ask for her hand as soon as it was over. He couldn't imagine living without her.

Hermione stretched and touched his lips gently with her own in a slow, sweet kiss. It was almost chaste, and Severus' forehead came down to rest against hers. To anyone watching from the outside, they would see an unclear image of the two looking lovingly at each other, the rain falling down around them on all sides, never touching them. Nothing needed to be washed away, now. Severus and Hermione were both perfect in their imperfections, flawless and whole and beautiful to each other, even when they were wrong and broken to others. Each was all the other needed as they remained in the tiny world created just for them where they were all that was right.

Centuries later, when all they knew were dead and gone, Severus and Hermione remained at Hogwarts, and could always be seen together. They spent much of their time in the library, but made special trips to both Gryffindor and Slytherin Towers every now and then to check on the new students in their old Houses. Every year on that day in April, they moved so they could see their spot by the lake- the spot where he'd made her feel genuinely beautiful, where he'd proposed, where they'd been married, where she told him they were expecting (all four times), where they'd watched their sons and daughters grow up, and where their bodies would rest for all of eternity.

They'd watched countless generations of their descendants pass through the corridors of the castle, and the children- who'd been in all Houses throughout the years- stopped by to say hello. They could always spot those of their family, usually through unruly curls, a sizeable nose, unprecedented intelligence, or some other easily-recognizable trait.

Yes, Severus and Hermione were happy in their portrait of their old study in the Headmaster's quarters. They'd run the school together for years, and were both able to visit the new Headmaster Snape whenever they wished.

They would always be a part of Hogwarts and of the Wizarding world as a whole. They were legend.

Their love would never die, even if they themselves were gone, because nothing, not even the rain, could keep their hearts from remaining as one.