Author's Note: Aaaaand part two. I was so pleased with myself for finishing I didn't bother with a beta, so please forgive my exhausted, triumphant errors!

A Vacation to Live For

It was nearing dawn; Severus had fallen asleep an hour ago, after their rather exhaustive third bout. She had already let Crookshanks back in after his latest...well, she wasn't entirely sure what he did, but hunting was definitely a part of it. He was awfully self-satisfied, carrying in a carcass for her to save for him the next night.

Hermione padded back into her bedroom, checking the curtains reflexively. They were still sealed tight against the windows, and she curled up next to Severus with a soft smile. His eyelashes were incredibly long, and she admired the sweep of them against the pale of his skin. His face was relaxed, his breaths deep and even. Gently, she touched the little line between his dark brows and his thin lips pursed before settling back into the lax semi-open of sleep.

He was beautiful, she thought. Harsh and angular, but beautiful, crooked teeth and all.

She could so easily love him. She wanted to keep him, stay with him. But she couldn't risk returning to the Wizarding world. She knew it would be too easy for her to be discovered, and she knew just how well the Ministry would handle her change in...status. And she couldn't, wouldn't ask that of him, no matter how much she would like to. But, perhaps...perhaps he would keep in touch with her? Maybe they could be together. Merlin knew he could keep a secret...

But could she ask that of him?

She traced the curve of his cheek and even in his sleep, unguarded, he leaned into her touch. Hermione closed her eyes in preparation for sleep.

Severus awoke a few hours after dawn. It was unusual for him to sleep so late, but he blamed it on physical exertion and a combination of 'vacation' and being up into the small hours of the morning. Not that he minded; it had been well worth it.

He stretched carefully, watching her sleep. Well, what passed for sleep with a vampire, in any case. She was mostly comatose, her breathing and the pulse in her neck so slow she could easily be mistaken for dead. He studied her face, wondering that this was the first morning in a very long while that he had wanted to wake up.

And he wondered how he could convince her to see him again, to possibly keep him. He couldn't imagine a boring eternity with Hermione Granger. It was madness of a sort, he knew, to suddenly want it, but it just seemed...right.

And nothing had ever seemed right for him before; why not seize it now?

Apparating back to his bedroom with a quiet pop, Severus quickly set about locating his clothes. He had always liked proper-fitting Muggle clothes, if he were perfectly honest with himself. Robes were all well and good, but the right fit made a hell of difference. His selection of a sweater, button-down shirt, and trousers were all of the finest quality and tailored after-purchase.

It was still too early for breakfast, so he showered, evaluating himself after in the mirror. Hermione had barely left a mark on his neck with her bite, but a turn and a craning of his neck showed several scratches along his back that made his ego swell. He looked better-rested, too, he admitted. Happier. Maybe even younger, though that was a flight of fancy he was quick to scoff at.

Severus devoted the next half-hour to listing pros and cons to being a vampire, and the next after sorting his own emotions and motives for wanting to be with Hermione from the push her familiar/sire had given him last night, trying to ensure he was genuine. It would, after all, be just his luck.

But no; he was surprised to find he truly did desire this, desire her. Yes, the push had helped, but it hadn't been in opposition with anything he hadn't already known or wanted.

Mind made up, Severus checked the time and swept down to breakfast, his stomach growling.

Breakfast had begun well enough. Delicious fare, well-selected tea. He had nothing to complain about, except, perhaps, the other guests, who had finally made it halfway through his second danish. His lip curled into a sneer at the ruckus they made, complaining loudly, as if it were Kevin's fault that their flight had been delayed, that the weather wasn't the best, and so on.

And to think he'd wanted to try to remake himself! Being undead and cloistered away with Hermione would be so much more palatable.

They joined him at the breakfast table without even an introduction, the wife dumping her purse on the table. The husband dropped heavily into his chair and had the audacity to start to pull out a pack of cigarettes before he caught Severus's glower and thought better of it.

Suffice to say, breakfast soon became unbearable and he thanked Kevin before excusing himself to go for a 'walk'.

Rounding several corners and ensuring he was unseen and unfollowed, Severus instead Apparated back to Hermione's bedroom. She lay sleeping still as death, her cat now curled where he had been before departing to the bed and breakfast. Finding her brewing space was easy with the use of a Point Me spell, and he let himself into the small, well-appointed room. Her cauldrons and stirring rods were arranged by size and type, he noted with amusement, same as he had imposed in his classroom. Her stores were sorted alphabetically, which pleased him as well.

Blood Replenisher was a simple potion, one he brewed so often for the Infirmary that he didn't need to consult one of the many recipe books she had lining the far wall, and he set about preparing his workspace. Efficient as he was, it took little time before he had a triple-large batch ready to go. He tested a sample out of habit, not doubt of his own skills, and was pleased to note that it was perfect. Even a small sample of his blood would be indefinitely sustained as long as she—or he—added more potion to the mix.

Severus paused. He had wanted to wait to add his blood until she was present and he had had a chance to speak to her and feel out her opinions on keeping him around, but with further consideration it was possible that she could misconstrue his intentions. The last thing he wanted was her assuming that he was withholding his promised aid—and blood—unless she turned him proper. No, that would not do.

Selecting a clean knife, Severus held his arm over the cauldron and made a slice across the back of his arm with nary a wince. He was used to the sensation, the burn of adding a potion-maker's blood to a cauldron, and once he was satisfied with his donation he sealed the wound with a flick of his wand.

He looked around the lab and the minimal mess he'd made. It wouldn't take long to tidy up, and then he would simply have to wait for dark to fall.

And for Hermione to awaken.

Hermione awoke, blinking to take in the dark room. As nice as it was to awaken without the gnawing hunger, she was alone, aside from Crookshanks. She didn't hear the reassuring thump of Severus's heart in the room, and the warmth had long left her bed. She wasn't certain if she should feel hurt or not, but she did.

She buried her face in Crooks' fur for a long moment, trying to sort her emotions. Was it wrong that she wanted to keep him? It was terribly quick, but she'd learned as a vampire to go with her gut. If something said 'flee', you fled. If something said 'buy a cottage and turn it into a bed and breakfast', you did. If something said 'hire this person', you did. If something said 'feed', well, then you considered the consequences but still. You fed.

Crooks took her feelings in stride, as he always did, before batting at the side of her head with one paw. She knew what he meant: "stop wallowing, it's time to feed me".

Not that he couldn't really feed himself, he just preferred when she did it. He was accustomed to it, after all.

She padded downstairs and set about preparing the rodent he'd caught last night while she'd been in bed with Severus just the way the feline liked. Hermione honestly didn't mind that her cat was her sire. Oh, it was awkward to think about sometimes, but it really didn't change much, aside from the whole no daylight and drinking blood to live thing. He was, after all, a cat. And a half-kneazle, an uncommonly-clever one at that, one who clearly thought his witch needed Severus Snape to stay in her life forever.

Hermione was just washing up when Severus popped into her kitchen, wearing his dressing gown. She started, but smiled, wondering if her relief and joy were as transparent to him as it felt.

"Good evening," he said. Merlin help her, his voice was almost a purr and she dared to hope that if she broached the topic of a relationship of sorts he may be open to it. Then she could work up to asking if he'd like the make the arrangement...permanent.

"Good morning," she replied. "Did you get any rest?"

"Plenty," Severus said. "And I should commend you on whoever you have hired as a cook. Dinner was delicious."

"I should hope so." She'd wanted to sound sultry, maybe segue into another round, but she was awfully proud of her hiring. "Mrs. Podmoore is a lovely lady, and very talented."

They stood there, not touching rather awkwardly for two people who had been very intimate the night previous. Hermione flushed, one hand reaching up to tangle in her hair. Severus watched her, his expression inscrutable.

"I brewed for you," he said finally. "Would you like to see?"

She brightened. "I would!"

He tucked her hand into the cradle of his elbow and escorted her to her brewing room. She wasn't surprised to see the room was as spotless as she had left it, but she was surprised to see that he had not only made her a massive batch of Blood Replenisher, but he had already donated to it. Her heart twisted and she hugged him impulsively, burying her face in the open vee of his dressing gown.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered as his arms wrapped around her. His nose buried itself in her hair and she tightened her grip—albeit carefully, so as not to crush his ribs. "This means the world to me, Severus."

"You are welcome." His voice was absolute silk and she shivered with renewed desire. "You should be sustained as long as you or I add more potion."

'You or I'.

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up at him.

Her eyes were luminous and unguarded as he met her gaze. She was bright enough, he thought, to catch on to what he was hinting at.

"So...you'd like to keep seeing me, then?"

Severus couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "And more."

Hermione blushed charmingly, and she reached to cup his face in both slim hands, pulling him down to kiss her. It was a heated kiss that left her feeling rather scorched as he buried his hands in her curls, clenching his fingers until she could feel the tug. With a small moan, she kissed him more fiercely as she heard his heart begin to beat faster.

His lips made her head spin, and his long, lean body against hers was warm. He made a noise, low in the back of his throat, that turned into a growl. Encouraged, Hermione slid her hands down his neck and chest to slip inside his dressing gown. She loved the feel of the crisp hair under her fingertips, the way his nipples pebbled under her touch. He hissed in pleasure against her lips, his hands leaving her hair to pull apart the sash. Severus tossed his robe aside and made quick work of hers, leaving them both bare in the cool air of her brewing space.

She counted herself lucky she'd never had a twisted detention-fantasy until this very moment, or else she would have been nothing more than a quivering puddle.

As it was, her entire being narrowed and focused on touching him, exploring the minute changes a day had made to his body.

Kissing Severus was wondrous. He melted into her kisses, pliant and willing. Hermione smiled against his lips, against the pulse racing under her fingertips. His breathing grew ragged and she felt caught in whatever magic was woven between them that made her feel so complete.

For his part, Severus tried to tell her through actions what he wanted. He surrendered to her mouth, her questing hands. Once more, the world was properly aligned when he was with Hermione...and he was done questioning it.

He made a needy moan as her lips graced his throat over this thundering pulse, and Hermione paused as she recalled precisely how it felt to sink her teeth into him, to feel the thrum of his magic sparkle through the blood that filled her. She panted against his heartbeat, trying to quell the urge to drink him in.

Long fingers buried themselves in her curls, cradling her head to his neck.

"Take what you need," he murmured in a voice like liquid sin, and Hermione closed her eyes. His fingers tightened in her hair.

"Not yet," she whispered back, a promise to the flow and ebb under her lips. She pushed him down to the floor of her brewing room, heedless of the table and its precious cauldron as she followed him down. She suckled the hollow of his throat, bruises blossoming. She nipped none-too-gently at the soft, salt-scented skin there and pinned his wrists above his head as she straddled him.

His cock jumped, poking thick and proud through his dressing gown, and she sank down onto it. She stared into his eyes, enthralled by the lust and something more held there before need overtook her and she snapped her hips, starting to move.

Severus arched beneath her with a gasp as she engulfed his length. Merlin, but she fit so well around him. He gladly left his wrists in her grip as she rode him, using her hold as leverage to thrust up to meet her. He started at her almost helplessly as conscious thought deserted him in favour of the need they built. She was tight and wet around him, colour building under her skin as she fucked him. She bowed forwards and he tilted his head, offering her his neck.

"Please," he rasped, lungs burning for air and his body aching for completion. "Take me, take me..."

His begging undid her, his willingness to give her everything, and as she came she let go of his wrists to support herself, teeth sinking into the flushed skin of his neck. Magic sizzled, dancing across her tongue and she knew without question that this was right. This man was hers. Her wizard, her mate. Forever.

Severus gasp as she drew his blood into her, feeling his magic and hers spiral between them both. It was better even than their previous encounters last night, the ebb and flow of it along with his strength. He bucked beneath her: not to dislodge her, but to continue to push his cock into her pulsing heat. He came with a strangled, wordless cry, his movements growing weaker with every thrust of his hips.

"Keep me," he managed, the words hoarse and barely audible.

She growled, the sound dancing along his skin. "Yessssssss..."

When Hermione drew back, her lips were red and she nearly glowed with his power and hers and he looked at her with reverence as his heart stuttered once, twice...and ceased to beat.

When he awoke he was cradled to her chest, the taste of her magic and copper blood thick in his mouth. Hermione was stroking his hair, fingers trembling, and he knew she was anxious.

"I'm here," Severus said. The tension left her, but she didn't stop stroking, though she did bend her head to kiss his hair. "That was..."

"It was," she replied. "Do you feel alright? I didn't mean to drain you."

She didn't sound the least bit repentant and he laughed, grasping her wrist to kiss the wound there. "Yes." He kissed it again, singing a murmur of his own healing spell to leave no mark of where she had remade him. "It was glorious, Hermione."

She looked down at him and he met her gaze. What she had said about everything being heightened was true; the riot of sex-crazed curls spilling down her back was a million shades of brown, her eyes were an unnameable colour he could stare into for hours. Even the texture of the floor under his naked legs and the fabric of his dressing gown was new and different.

He marvelled at the clarity of even the wood grain of the table legs as he followed them up with his gaze to see the cauldron upright and stable. Good. They were going to need it.

"Yes we will," Hermione said in reply to his unspoken thought. She seemed pleased. "I...will you be staying here? With me?"

Her uncertainty was endearing and he rose effortlessly to his feet before pulling him up and into his arms. He could certainly get used to that.

"Where else would I stay?" He caressed her cheek and marvelled at the feel of her skin. "I will reclaim what I require from Hogwarts, but I am yours, Hermione Granger."

She shivered in his arm, her fingers drawing patterns over his chest as she blushed. "You don't have to stay with me if you don't want to."

"I want to. You made me feel alive," he confessed quietly. "With you I am complete. Made for you."

"My mate," she said thickly, voicing the thought she'd had when she'd claimed him.

"Always." And the word was a growl as he kissed her fiercely, taken with the urge to show her just what sort of a mate he was.

Too soon all she was aware of was the cool wood of her brewing table under her belly, her own clothes somewhere on the floor of the room. He was also naked, the crisp hair that peppered his deliciously lean body tickling the backs of her legs.

Oh yes.

His mate.

The papers announced the mysterious disappearance of Professor Severus Snape with more seriousness than he'd thought, though he tossed the Prophet aside in disdain after reading the article. He'd gone back to the school, continued his lesson plans, and quietly shrunk and packed the necessities. The rest, he'd figured, he could leave for his successor.

Hermione was curled into his side, her hand running circles over the muscles of his leg as she hummed with satisfaction, and Crookshanks was out for an evening prowl-and-hunt.

Severus looked around their cozy room, completely pleased with his life. He smiled into the dim room with very sharp teeth.