Hermione stepped into the room and nodded to Harry.

"It's okay Harry. You can let him go."

Harry looked at Hermione's face. Teary. Grim. Purposeful. Obviously still angry…but grounded. Whatever else she was feeling, Harry could see that she was once again herself in a way that she had not been in the week since her crazy discovery. From that, he could surmise that whatever else had occurred between Hermione and the Professor, the sexual interaction had been consensual.

Relieved, he cast an industrial strength impervio on his person, and released all six of the spells (two more than he used for a typical suspect) that were even now barely keeping Snape contained. The professor, once released, did with great alacrity fire a fairly nasty stinging hex in his direction, but Harry thought it half-hearted at best. After all, the man's eyes had been, and were still, locked onto Hermione like a starving man staring at a chocolate sundae. Since the look made him just a little bit…uncomfortable, Harry loudly cleared his throat.

Neither of them looked at him. At this moment, he was, Harry realized, utterly unwanted.

"Right. So, then, I suppose I'll just go…sit on the front porch for a while?" He suggested hopefully.

Still staring at Hermione, Snape growled "Go farther, Potter."

Harry watched Hermione's mouth twitch at the corners. "Yes, Harry," she said, sounding resolute. "I'm…safe here. Why don't you go to town and have a nice lunch. I've your mobile if I need you."

"You'll follow protocol."

Hermione nodded, "If it makes you more comfortable, I will."

"It would, yes." He turned to face Severus. "Well, professor, it sure was nice seeing you again."

"The feeling is not mutual Potter. Be gone."

Harry couldn't help grinning. "I'm gonning. Well, anyway, good day."

"Thank you Harry." Said Hermione.

And then, they were alone.

SSSSSS

"Protocol?"

"Ring him on his mobile in one hour, to let him know that I am not in jeopardy."

"Which you know that you are not."

"Which I know that I am not. But it got rid of him, didn't it?"

Since that, at least ,was obvious, he did not bother responding. He focused instead on the heart of the matter. She'd been with the pensive for less than a quarter hour. "Your memories… You could not have watched all two week's worth."

"I didn't."

"You watched one, and inferred the rest?"

She shook her head.

He nodded. Nor would he, in her place. "You reabsorbed them all, then."

"I scanned them, first, made sure they were unaltered…"

"They were."

"They were. Made sure that they were mine…"

"They were."

"They were. And then…I re-absorbed them."

"Two weeks of memories at once. Your headache must be…significant."

"It is."

He stood and walked to his kitchen. "I can remedy that. I've made an improvement on pain relieving potion…"

"I'm not taking any potions right now, thank you."

He froze. "I assure you that any potions I have manufactured are exquisitely made." His face looked almost…vulnerable. "Your anger at me needn't keep you in pain."

"I have no doubt of the quality of your potions, you daft man. But I'll pass on the potion for now." Already bending, she sighed and lowered herself into the comfortable chair. "Oh, Severus. Taking my memories from me was a stupid thing to do."

"No it was not. Removing those memories saved you discomfort."

She laughed. "Less than you might think. I've been bloody miserable. No idea why I was miserable. But miserable nonetheless. And I was going to come back to you, you stupid man."

He blinked. "What?"

"Before you took them from me. I had just decided. That my excuses were just that. Excuses. And that my life was here. With you. I was walking in to the kitchen to let you know that I planned return to London to tie up lose ends, submit my transfer request, then come back here."

He stood there, blank faced, utterly still. He had never been a swarthy man, but Hermione watched his face turn chalk white, a shade beyond his usual ivory. He stood there, obviously stunned, his eyes blinking for long enough that Hermione began to get concerned.

Then, he began to laugh. He giggled, for a moment, then tossed back his head, opened his throat, and howled in laughter. Turning away from her, his broad, bony shoulders shaking, his whole body moving with convulsive abandon. Then he turned back to her and she realized that he was no longer laughing. He was sobbing, sobbing like his heart would break. He sank to his knees before her and dropped his head into his hands.

The residual of her fury evaporated. After all, she'd been heartbroken, hadn't she? Even without the weight of those memories, she'd wandered through the weeks without him feeling as if her soul had been excised from her body. And she hadn't even remembered what she was missing. He had remembered everything. How much more painful had that been?

She opened her senses a bit, enough to feel the emotion he'd been leaking. Yes, for him, it had been worse. And now that she remembered how she felt about him, that pain, willfully, misguidedly endured to spare her, cleared away the last of her anger.

Had she not done exactly the same thing for her parents? And had they not forgiven her betrayal, particularly when the enormity of her own sacrifice had become evident? They had. Some bizarre karmic debt had now given her the opportunity to share the entire convoluted experience from its other side. She would forgive him, she decided. And, deciding that, realized she already had. In fact, she'd forgiven him practically the moment the memories returned to their place in her head. How could she not?

She sighed, lifted herself from the chair and then went to him, sinking down beside him, and gently pulling his sobbing body into her arms. Rather than turning away from what she offered, he burrowed in.

It took him a minute, maybe two to reach calm. But the feel of his mate holding him…it centered him, washed the black cloud from his brain like a cleansing rainstorm, so that he was able to return to himself.

"Well," he snuffled, managing to sound congested, but amused, "I bolloxed that in my typical spectacular fashion. My skills in the art of relationship building have always been…regrettable."

Hermione barked a laugh, and grabbed his hand.

He squeezed it. "So I must ask. This experience…with my taking your memory…I presume it has…dissuaded you from your decision to join me here?"

"Strangely enough," she said, "Not if you'll still have me after what I have to tell you. "

"Oh, gods, witch, whatever it is," he choked, his voice raspy with emotion, "I very much will still have you."

And suddenly, her heart felt light. She pushed him back, just a little, so she could see his face. "I didn't even remember you…and I still missed you. Every morning, I would look around my bed. I couldn't remember what I was looking for. But I was looking for you.

You made us both miserable for months."

Severus sighed. "I did. But you have forgiven me. I can see it in your eyes."

He reached a hand over her hair, releasing the spell that kept it smooth. He felt, rather than saw her smile.

"Yes. I've forgiven you. Taking my memories was a stupid move for such a smart man."

He sighed. "It was intended to be a noble gesture. To save you suffering."

"I know that."

"But you are right. It was, in retrospect, stupid. I regretted it the moment you drove away."

"So, promise me you won't do that again."

He pulled her back, looked into her eyes, "When Potter returns, I shall give you my unbreakable vow, that I shall never again alter your memory."

"That isn't necessary. Your word will do."

He looked at her quizzically. "Would you not rather know than trust?"

She looked into his eyes. "No. I wouldn't. If we stay together, we do it solely in free will. No unbreakable vows, no force. You give me your word. And I give you mine. Otherwise, we are together under duress, and it means nothing. I want more than that."

Humbled, he nodded, and pulled her back in to him. "Then you have my word." He opened his senses to the pleasure of holding her, breathed in the smell of her, the feel of her body pressed to his. He took the sensory information in, intending to store it away, to cherish it. Then he froze.

A cascade of nuances ticked rapidly through his brain. Her body, fuller. Her skin, more luminous. Her eyes, more emotive. Her refusal of his potions. And the fact that she and Potter had arrived at his home somehow knowing that their time together had been sexual in nature. He reached both hands to the small hard bump of her abdomen.

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"But you could not conceive."

"I couldn't with Ron." She smiled and placed her hands on her belly, over his. "Apparently, with you, I could. And did."

"A child?"

"A daughter."

"A daughter." Slowly, like sunlight working its way through fog, a smile tugged at his lips. "And you're well?" Suddenly realizing they were sitting on the hard floor of his living room, he scooped her up and carried her over to the sofa. "We should not be sitting on the floor"

She laughed. "Why ever not? Wellness is a little relative right now. Physically, I feel intermittently awful. But emotionally? I'm running the gamut between exultation and absolute terror. And how are you, Papa?"

"I am overwhelmed."

"Of course you are. But happy?"

"I think that is an oversimplification. But yes. I am happy. A daughter."

"A daughter."

"And she is how you found me again?"

"She is."

"Then I am forever in her debt."

Hermione barked a laugh, "Whatever you do, don't let her know that!"

Severus glared. "I may be besotted and uncharacteristically emotional. But I AM still Slytherin enough to recognize the inadvisability of THAT."

Hermione snorted. "Good. Hello Milo! Come for a snuggle?"

Milo, his canine eyes spilling over with naked adoration, joined them on the sofa. He licked Hermione three times on her chin (two more licks, Severus noted, than he was ever given at any one time) turned three times in place, stepping on both of them numerous times and the proceded to wedged his small body between them. He then dropped his head to Hermione's knee and gave the long, contented sigh of a hound whose pack is at last complete.

Suddenly exhausted by the passage of such intense emotion, Severus followed the dog's excellent example, settling down to rest next to Hermione. "You know," he yawned, "the lioness came back to the mountain today. She took a deer on the meadow…There are wards that will protect our child, but if the lioness bothers you, I can easily send her away. "

Hermione felt her heart tremble as she watched his eyes drift closed. "No…don't bother her. There's room for all of us in your forest."

"Our forest." He mumbled, already half asleep.

Hermione sighed, and snuggled in against his shoulder.

"Our forest then."

SSSS

Though she'd texted the appropriate code at the appropriate time, Harry could not help fretting. He hadn't been invited back…but neither had he been told not to come. And so he loudly approached the screen door on the front porch. Knocked. Didn't want to…interrupt anything. I mean, they were lovers of some kind. Or had been.

When there was no answer, he knocked again. Then worry got the best of him. The door was open, after all. So he stepped inside. And stopped short. There on the far corner of the sofa, was his best friend. She had obviously just been dozing, which was not unusual these days.

Hermione opened sleepy eyes at his approach. On her left, wedged between Hermione and the sofa's arm was the little black and white dog. He was sleeping on his back, with three of his four legs extended straight up, and Hermione's left hand resting comfortably on his exposed belly

And on her right, curled up like a cat, was the sleeping body of his Professor. His head and hand rested on her abdomen, as if he was listening to the workings within.

Harry Potter felt something warm and happy blossom in his chest.

"You're okay?" He mouthed silently.

Hermione smiled.

He and Hermione had been friends for so many decades; he knew every single one of her smiles. This was not her fake smile. Nor her "trying to be brave" smile. This was not her determined smile, her indulgent smile, her I-beat-you-at-Scrabble smile. This was not her successful raid smile. Or her riddle solving smile or even her triumphant smile.

This was the smile he'd seen the first time she'd held James for the first time. This was the smile she'd worn when she'd emerged from the Chamber of Secrets clutching Ron's hand.

This was Hermione's wedding-day smile.

He felt tears stinging his own eyes. To cover them, he leaned over, pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You deserve everything" he whispered into her unruly hair.

"I do." She whispered to him. "And it looks like I'm going to get it. Come by tomorrow before your flight, and I'll tell you all the sordid details."

He raised an eyebrow. "All the sordid details?"

"Okay, maybe not all of them. But come by anyway."

"I will." He kissed her forehead again, and left the cabin.

Severus lifted his head the minute the rental car departed auditory range.

"I thought he would never leave."

Hermione laughed. "You were awake? That entire time?"

"From the moment he crossed my wards."

"Severus Snape, did you mimic sleep to avoid talking to Harry Potter?"

"Perhaps." He rose to his feet and stretched happily as a cap after a nap in sunshine. "The result was entirely worth the effort."

Hermione guffawed, startling Milo from his deep sleep. "Well he's coming back tomorrow morning before he leaves for San Francisco."

Snape's scowl was halfhearted, at best. "Perhaps I'll be asleep then too," he dropped the timber of his voice as bent to scoop her up from the sofa, "After all, I anticipate becoming very tired in the next few hours."

Hermione linked her arms behind his head, "you know I can walk, right? I'm just pregnant, not paralyzed."

"Do not impede the flow of my romance, woman," he countered, as he walked them back towards the bedroom. "I seek utter exhaustion."

Hermione laughed uproariously, and let her mate carry her back to bed.

SSSS

The next day, the professor was indeed sound asleep when Harry Potter arrived.

End

Author's Note: I want to thank all of you who took the time to review this story. My life is at a much busier juncture than when I first began it, and it was truly the lot of you who motivated me to get up an hour earlier each morning to finish it.

I hope that all of you enjoyed your time in the redwood forests. The storms in this story helped, but were not sufficient to entirely erase the years of drought. As a result, two years ago, massive super-hot fires roared through the Santa Cruz mountains. The flames took much of this area, and in fact came right to the edges of this property. But the forest I describe, the Salamander and Double Bear Camp, for some reason did not burn. Who knows, perhaps there is a ward around the property that kept home and hound, and beloved family safe? We can only hope.

Be well. Be happy. Live it all: tragedy, triumph, loss and love; all of it is magic.

Your Theolyn.