A/N: I can't believe that we're here at the end. What an amazing journey! I am so, so grateful to everyone who took the time to be involved with this story, whether it was by following, adding it to your favourites, reviewing, or cheering me on in Livejournal discussions. I'm honoured. Speaking of Livejournal – I will be adding some photos for this chapter in particular on my journal, which is under the username of lenaa1987. You are all very welcome to pop over and visit!

Allow me to thank Banglabou (who also beta'd this chapter, and has my eternal thanks for doing so), savine-snape, worrywart, ms. anthrop, orlando-switch, HatakeHinata and AdelaideArcher. Without such a team of fabulous women, I would still be agonising over posting anything at all.

This entire story was inspired by Nina Simone's 'Lilac Wine'. She wasn't the first to sing it, nor was she the original writer (James Shelton).

One last thing – within the fortnight, I will be posting a one-shot that is within this universe for the 300th reviewer. So if you're hoping to stay in our cottage for a little longer, it will be posted in a separate story soon.

Thank you all, very much. – Lena.

Chapter 20

I lost myself on a cool, damp night

Gave myself in that misty light

Was hypnotized by a strange delight

Under a lilac tree

As sung by Nina Simone

Ubud, Bali

The air was heavy and humid, cloaking the strange looking pair with sweat. They trudged up the winding lane together, avoiding the locals on motorcycles and scooters that weaved around them in the early morning sun. Often, grinning little children clinging on to their mother's waists would point at the two, before waving to the tall, pale man with a nose not unlike the ceremonial masks that depicted the local gods. He would bow his head to them, and sometimes, though it was rare, even crack a smile or two.

The young woman, too, drew her fair share of attention. Young men smiled with an innocent ease, and grandmothers stopped sweeping tiled floors to call out words of praise for catching an older man who would surely be wealthy and well connected. Hermione could only laugh and clap her hands as she discreetly tapped the amulet around her neck, charmed to translate her words into the local dialect.

With the plastic shopping bags looped around his wrist, Severus waited as his wife chatted to yet another local readying her shop for the day. He watched her fondly, eyes following her every move; oh, but she was beautiful. Her chestnut curls were piled up high on her head, though a few tendrils were tickling her neck. She wore a plain white cotton tee-shirt and a pair of wide, grey linen trousers bought in the market on their first day in the town. Bangles were stacked on her delicate wrists, and her skin had already tanned a light golden brown from the Indonesian sun. They had only been in their modest villa for a week, yet she moved through the town and surrounding villages with an ease that at first, Severus envied, but then he found that he, too, walked with a relaxed, slow gait and stopped more often than not.

There was much to see and do on the tiny island. Sometimes they sat in cafés at the top of Monkey Forest road and watched the tourists – tall, blonde Europeans with designer attire, or flushed looking Australians that exclaimed over each tiny trinket – and other times, he made love to her on crisp, white sheets while the fan worked to keep them cool in the stifling heat.

It was, Severus had decided when they'd first walked out from the tiny reception area that the Portkey had delivered them to, a magical place. His sarcastic sense of humour could not even bear to scoff at such a description – there was magic everywhere.

Local children danced in the temples at night, and weaved natural, silent spells to tell the stories of their ancestors. A woman snapped their fingers and suddenly a crowd of tourists noticed her wares, sitting previously forgotten because she'd arrived too late to set up in the shade. Cooks muttered under their breaths as sauces took shape, and women made no sound at all as they walked in the morning mist to leave tenderly crafted offerings in the temples.

Severus was enthralled by it – and his wife was amazed. She kept a hold on his hand as she gestured to a new shop or hotel, one that hadn't been here when she'd visited with her parents long ago. When they stumbled upon a used book store that catered to the international crowd, she'd cried out with delight and all but dove in, her fingers skimming the titles reverently before he'd even caught his breath.

Each morning they left the villa and walked down the lane before arriving in the village for a local breakfast. Then, if his sweaty and adventurous maiden should require it, they'd amble into the small grocery store a few minutes further into town.

Upon returning to the villa, he would strip her damp clothes and run his hands over her body, spreading the soap as the cold shower removed the bubbles. And then they swam together, his long, pale arms spreading out like wings as he propelled his body through the water of the pool that sat directly in front of the back doors of the house.

In the water Hermione was a vision, a water nymph sent to give him only the most pleasurable torment.

…

"Are we really here?" she whispered, trailing her fingers through the hair on his chest. Severus stirred, having almost been lulled to sleep by her ministrations.

"We've been here a fortnight," he reminded her. "Is it so hard to believe?"

But he knew that it was. Severus could barely even understand how fate had brought him here, to this hot, humid island. It was as far from his usual habitat as possible, but more than that – Hermione was here. With him. And their sole purpose was to be together – nothing more, nothing less. Already he was intoxicated with such an indulgence; it made him think of recreating their courtyard again, of sliding into her body during Scottish summers in Hogsmeade, and of her body in a dreamlike future, round with child and basking in the golden sun.

Severus swallowed and breathed out slowly.

He drew her closer to his body until her head rested over his heart. Her breath ghosted over his skin, and Severus closed his eyes again.

"I'm glad that we are here," he said into the night air. "I'm glad that you are here."

Hermione sighed; he could hear the smile in it, the evidence of her joy. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world," she said simply, her tone brooking no argument. "This has been the best fortnight of my life. The very, very best."

Severus hummed pensively. "I can't say that it is mine," he began, "but it is certainly the second best."

"Oh, you!" She pinched his side and wriggled, entwining her legs and arms around him until she could pull him over to the side where they faced each other on the pillows. "What could be better than our honeymoon? It's perfect!"

He smiled and shrugged, pleased by just how much happiness he had given her by booking the trip. He hadn't specifically had a honeymoon in mind – the very thought seemed trite, after all their tribulations – but a reprieve, a private escape… She was making a good argument.

…

The tickets had been delivered to the castle two days after he'd sent that one letter from the cottage - one benefit of booking a Wizarding holiday. Severus was seated in the Great Hall, picking over breakfast while Poppy nattered on one side, and Pomona warbled along to Longbottom on the other.

The black owl was elegant and sophisticated – it soared above the main hoard that descended upon the students and staff with the morning mail, and delivered a bundle into his waiting hands with an imperious squawk.

"What is that?" Poppy hissed as she attempted to pull away his elbow that was doing its best to cover the details of the travel agent's name. "I know that stamp!"

"Hush, woman!"

"I won't!" A sharp jab to his side had him jump in his seat, and the devious nurse grabbed the bundle and squeaked. "Severus! You didn't!"

"It's not for you, you idiot!" he exclaimed, off-kilter from the mortifying knowledge that the students had seen him fall prey to Poppy bloody Pomfrey's dubious techniques of persuasion. "Give it back!"

"I don't think I will!"

"I'll poison your tea!"

"Like hell you will!"

"You just watch—"

"Severus?"

Bollocks.

"Headmistress?" he fixed a bland expression on his face, and ground his teeth as the Headmistress paused in front of their seats before she descended and made for her office. She was staring at them both, her pursed lips twitching ever so slightly at the corners. When he saw the hesitant kindness in her eyes, Severus stood and glared at Poppy. "You will return it!" he ordered, allowing a short smirk to escape when the nurse clapped her hands and bustled away from the table.

"Did you wish to speak with me, Headmistress?"

She inclined her head and he came around the table to stand beside her, linking his hands behind his back as they walked down the middle of the hall.

"I did," Minerva said slowly when they reached the gargoyle. "Will you come up?"

He was being truthful, not spiteful, when he declined with, "Forgive me, Headmistress, but no. I do not have the time."

"Ah." Her shoulders drooped somewhat, and she cleared her throat. "Well, don't let me keep you."

"Of course," he said, bowing his head. Confused, Severus turned on his heel when her thin voice made him pause.

"I mean it, Severus," she said gently, her cheeks tinged with pink. "Don't let me keep you – from Madam Snape. There are things that I've said and—"

He interrupted her somberly, not having any desire to either reminisce over past hurts, or to continue wading through the boggy marshes of their strained relationship. Severus realised that he could have spurned her, but in that moment as he saw the wrinkles on her forehead deepen with concern, he could only think of one woman: Hermione.

"What's done is done, Minerva," he stated simply, and then held up a hand when she sighed. "And… I mean to take a holiday, of sorts. With my wife," he added, feeling awkward as a wobbly smile began to show on the Headmistress' face. "What I mean is that I will not be easily reached during the holidays and, erm…"

Taking pity on him, Minerva chuckled and reached out with one timid hand to pat his forearm. "I'll keep that in mind, Severus. And I hope that the both of you enjoy it."

"As do I," he replied stiffly, bowing again. "Good day, Minerva." He strode away, then again turned when she called for him.

"We can talk upon your return," she said, though he could hear the question clearly. "If that is agreeable, of course."

Understanding that he was committing to another year of teaching, yet finding that he was more than amenable given his new living conditions and the favourable outlook for the tensions in the staff room, Severus nodded once. "We shall."

He turned swiftly, robes billowing as he made for the dungeons. Only the portraits saw the stern man smile.

…

Severus came upon Poppy later that afternoon, hosting Longbottom and Lavender for tea.

"Was I not invited?" he sneered as he scowled at the three, sitting around her desk in the Hospital wing.

"Your invitation is probably burnt to a crisp," Poppy said primly. "I sent it through the Floo ten minutes ago! You're late!"

Resisting the urge to retort 'Am not!', Severus grabbed the bundle of parchment that she waved in his face, and sat down. He returned Neville's greeting, sparing a moment to listen to the boy's latest update on his most recent visit to his parents, and then nodded to Lavender. Frank and Alice were still a ways away from being healed, and it was likely that they would never regain their full mental capacities. While Hermione had steadily made improvements with the various trials, the Longbottoms responses had been few and far between. They were still in the nominally better state as months ago – rather the same as Hermione had been.

"When is the next trial?" he asked, running an index finger around the rim of his already half empty cup. "Soon?"

Hermione had been researching late into the night, sometimes staying at the Hogwarts library until he had to resort to waving a bottle of wine in front of her in order to make her come home. She was no different than Severus – though his research was generally contained to the two free double periods he had each week. He fingered the parchment in his coat pocket, wondering if it wouldn't be better to just—

"Oh, no," Neville said quickly. "Not for another two months. There's still… erm… ah… There's a few… Righto, time to go. Bye, sir."

And with that, the Herbology Professor hurried out of the room. Severus tipped his head back and groaned.

"You told him!" Severus admonished the tittering nurse, sparing one glare for the younger witch whose cheeks were puffed from trying not to laugh. "And you told her!"

"Of course I did! You wouldn't have!"

Lavender let loose with a small shriek. "And I'm glad she did! Otherwise I might've thought you were in some sort of trouble – all right," she conceded when he scoffed, "although I would have at least wondered where you went! We," she gestured between herself and the nurse, "need to know these things!"

Amused, Severus crossed his arms. "Why?"

"Aside from the obvious, being that we're not going to schedule any trials while you're overseas," Lavender responded tartly, "we're your friends."

"You?" said Severus, cocking an eyebrow. "You and Longbottom?"

"And me!" Poppy vehemently interjected. "Get used to it!"

"Should I expect such an outburst each time I plan a short sojourn—"

"Oh!" Lavender exclaimed shrilly, tugging on Poppy's sleeve. Severus in turn covered his ears in an effort to lessen the noise. "Does that mean that you'll be taking holidays every year?"

"Christ," he complained, not at all sure of why he felt warm instead of his normal indignation. "Do I have to tell you both everything? Can't a man have secrets?"

"We're your friends," Poppy repeated. "You have friends. And we care about you. About you both."

"Yes!" Lavender agreed with an important looking nod. "Exactly right."

Severus stared at the two women, taking in their smug smiles and honest, shining eyes. He barely spared a thought for the fact that ten years ago, this scenario would have sent him running for the hills. Instead he decided that perchance the whole idea was not so unpleasant – he'd already been close with Poppy, but expanding his tiny social circle didn't seem so terrible after all.

"Friends," he said, exhaling with a huff. "Fine."

"Good," said Lavender. "Then we'll see you when you get back?"

"You will," he drawled, curling his lip and turning away from them both so they wouldn't see how his mouth stretched into a smile of fondness for the two women that had kept him sane for three whole years.

…

In the cool bedroom of their Ubud villa, Hermione poked his side again.

"Tell me," she repeated laughingly, "about your best fortnight! How can anything be better?" She stretched out her body, her breasts pressing against his chest with the movement. Unable to ignore the tightening of her nipples, Severus stroked one finger across the soft mounds of golden flesh. He watched her bite her lip and utter a soft moan of pleasure; it was sublime, still, that he could induce such feelings within her.

"I think," he said, contemplating his answer and then finally deciding on the best way to frame it, "that my best fortnight would be the two weeks following your return."

"My return?"

"Your return to me," he said quietly, drawing breath when she smiled widely. She was beautiful in his arms, and even more so when he knew that all of her happiness, all of her delight, was for him to see and touch and taste. A heady combination.

Without preamble, she pressed her nose to his neck and sniffed deeply. He let out a startled laugh then stared down at her, puzzled. "What on earth are you doing?"

"You just—" She bent her head again, breathing in. "Oh, you just smell so lovely. Scrumptious. And all for me!"

"Amusing," he commented drily. "Our thoughts are quite similar at the moment."

"Really?" Hermione questioned breathlessly, shaking her head. "I think I'll need years to acclimatise to such a notion… How is it, that after all this time, we're finally here together? Gosh, after mooning over you for so long…" She grimaced. "I must be dreaming. Pinch me."

"I certainly will not."

"Then you must tell me why you chose our first weeks living together."

"Ah." Severus hummed thoughtfully. On one hand, it felt strange to be admitting so much to her after so many years of carefully monitoring his emotions and reactions. On the other, it was already freeing to love and be loved fully in return – for once, he had absolutely nothing to fear. He wound his arms around her tightly and said simply, "It was a coming of age. Everything I'd ever wanted, but hadn't ever had cause to even truly wish for. I never thought that I could ever be so fortunate, and yet… there you were, living with me, taking me out, always at my side. My only regret is…"

"Is?" she whispered, shuffling on the pillow so they were inches apart. She leant forward and placed a small kiss upon the tip of his nose.

"…That it took us so long to experience it," he mumbled, shrugging. "Grossly unfair, if you ask me."

"Good thing I didn't," she quipped. "You might've said 'life isn't fair' then, but I know that that's untrue – because I have you."

Severus groaned and reached for his wand, sending a spell to the ceiling fan to increase its speed. His wife, being the intrepid traveller that he found he enjoyed, preferred feeling the heat over cooling charms. He rolled out of bed, ignoring her mewls of disappointment, and stood before the double doors that led to the pool. Moonlight (and, he thought wryly, a couple of well-placed lights on the bottom of the pool) created a peaceful atmosphere. Water cascaded out of a statue near the far end of the pool, providing a calm background for his thoughts.

When the reflection in the glass doors showed his wife's tanned body coming to stand behind his own fair, bare flesh, Severus sighed. Her arms slid around his waist; her head of wild curls brushed the skin between his shoulder-blades.

"I love it here," she said. "Not as much as I love you, but it comes very close. I don't want to leave. I want to stay here, in this bubble with you, forever."

"Not forever, sweetheart," he replied fondly, "for, as pleasant as I'm sure it would undoubtedly be, you would go mad. Although…"

"Oh," she breathed, bouncing around to stand in front of him, her hands now clutching at his own. "Tell me we can!"

"To be clear," Severus drawled, "we are speaking of extending our trip, yes?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" she exclaimed before she threw her head back and laughed. "Say that we will!"

He pretended to mull it over, though in truth, given the length of the summer holidays, there was no reason why they couldn't add on an extra fortnight or so. His heart thrummed at the prospect of it – like a hummingbird's wings, he was sure that he could take flight from it alone. He wanted nothing more – nothing more – than to lose himself with her for as long as he could.

It wasn't that they were relatively anonymous here – there had been some surprised looks when they'd ventured into Kuta once last week – but it was… well, it was his honeymoon. And quite frankly, Severus would be damned if he let it end so quickly.

He trifled with the idea of playing along with her for a few minutes, but in the end all Severus could say was, "We will," while sporting a satisfied smirk.

Hermione's smile grew until her eyes began to swim with unshed tears. She opened her mouth once, twice, and then gave up, settling for throwing her arms around his neck and laughing until he was spinning them around the room, elated because of her glee.

"Oh!" she cried, waving a hand just as he turned to tap his wand on the small stacks of parchment that served as their main communication with the staff that serviced the villa.

"Hmm?"

"We should tell Poppy first! Or at least, we can't forget."

"Ah. Hmm, yes," he agreed, touching his wand to the parchment and nodding when it glowed green, accepting their request to extend. The nurse was staying in their cottage and minding the animals, while enjoying the kind of repose that only came from being the centre of Tink's fervent attention.

"I want to be the one to tell her," Hermione said suddenly, brandishing her wand with a triumphant smile. "My patronus has changed!"

The breath left him in an instant, and he sagged with relief. "Come here," he ordered, gathering her into his arms. "Mine, too."

"Really?" She chuckled and clucked her tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Slightly flustered, he admitted, "I only tried it last week. I'd had some troubles before but…"

"But?"

"It seems it was due to the… memory that I'd been using previously." How he hadn't realised that before, Severus had no clue; he assumed it was due to how busy his days had been. Now it seemed glaringly obvious that he should've changed the memory from boarding the Hogwarts Express at age 11, to the first embrace with his healed wife, right from the very beginning.

"I see." Hermione drew back to look up into his eyes. Then, "Can I see it?"

"Impertinent woman," he named her, before he kissed her forehead. "Only if I may see yours, as well."

"Of course!" she said fervently. "I was going to show it to you, but I've found that you've had me somewhat distracted recently…"

His hands danced down over her breasts then snaked around to settle at her buttocks, tracing gentle circles on her skin. "As have you, wife," he said, his smirk widening to a grin. "Shall we cast separately, or together?"

She tilted her head and turned in his arms, her back to his stomach. "Your decision, love."

Severus already knew, without a doubt, what his answer would be.

"Together, wife," he said simply, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Together."

…

…

…

In a small spare room on the second floor of a quaint Hogsmeade cottage, Poppy Pomfrey jolted awake with a cry of surprise. She jumped out of bed, cursing when she hit her head on the too-low ceiling.

Two silvery shapes bathed the room in a bright light. The Hogwarts nurse narrowed her eyes and stared at the two, and then reached for her glasses.

"Well," she said, huffing. "They ought to have told me about the new forms. Honestly!"

The graceful, prowling panther sniffed haughtily. At its side, a playful lynx seemed to smile in a matter-of-fact way, hinting at its female owner.

Poppy removed her glasses, gazed upon the panther once again, and clapped her hands with joy.

The end.