Author's Note: Sadly, this is too late for Christmas. A merry bah-humbug to everyone, I suppose. :)

TW: some rapey themes and stuff. :(

BUT ALSO: some consensual sexytimes. ;)

The Last Thing

"What I can't understand is why people even bother having bloody Christmas parties to begin with!" Severus grumbled as he pulled a green knit sweater over his head. "That goes doubly for bloody workplace Christmas parties!"

"What was that?" Hermione's voice echoed over the sound of her shower.

"I said that I refuse to talk to Neville-bloody-Longbottom about his newest spawn!" Severus replied loudly. He briefly considered adding a tie, then discarded the idea. Wouldn't want them to think that he actually wanted to impress anyone at the godforsaken event he was about to attend.

"I know you don't really want to go," Hermione said, her voice growing louder as she pushed her way out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel-turban, "but I truly appreciate you for saying you'd come along as my plus one."

Severus' harsh retort died in his throat as he saw her give him that warm, loving look. Also, it didn't help that the towel atop her head was the only cloth adorning her body. The fact that he was very much the luckiest wizard in the entire world instantly doused his ire like a bucket of ice water and so instead he simply wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and gave her an appreciative look.

"You know," he said, his mind moving to more pleasant things, "we could have a night in." In one fluid motion, he'd closed the distance between them and his breath was on her neck, making her shiver. "I could ensure that it us...worth your while." He could feel her press back into his touch as his fingers curled around her freckled shoulders, and he thrilled at the hitch of her breath.

"Oh...really?" She turned her head to look into his eyes, her lips twisting into a knowing smirk and his heart almost stopped right then and there with the anticipation of it.

Then she shook her head.

"I promised Minerva that I would bring a gift for my Secret Santa, and they would be absolutely heartbroken not to receive their gift. But definitely later, Severus," she teased, kissing his fingers where they curled over her right bicep and somehow slipping from his grasp with a giggle. The towel unraveled from her hair and it dropped in to Severus' hands as she sprinted off to the closet to grab her things and get properly dressed.

"Well, let it not be said that I did not try to save us from enduring the company of your insufferable workmates all evening long," Severus grumbled, taking the towel back to the bathroom to hang up on the towel rack.

"They're not all insufferable," Hermione replied, reappearing behind him dressed in a red sweater with an ice-skating reindeer on it. "You enjoyed talking to Hannah about the newest improvements in tincture reductions at the Halloween party."

"That was different," Severus scoffed. "As you recall, that party was located in our home. I could take a break in the bedroom when the incessant chatter overwhelmed me."

"Ah yes. That's why I had to convince you to stop lurking about when it was time for supper." Hermione booped him on the tip of his nose, and Severus felt his cheeks grow warm.

"I was not lurking!" he replied, trying and failing miserably to sound serious.

"Well, while I might find it sexy and mysterious, our guests thought otherwise. I had to hit Ron over the head with a newspaper when he suggested that you'd buggered off."

"My hero," Severus deadpanned.

"Well it was either that or curse his bits off, and I'm decidedly against resorting to bodily injury on others until after dessert," Hermione said, laughing in a manner that made Severus want to kiss her. Well, more than usual, anyway.

"Speaking of the orange menace, will he be there as well?" Severus asked. He did not like how whenever they saw him, Ron would constantly look at Hermione as though she belonged to him simply because they'd dated years ago. What was worse was that Ron constantly dragged his wife along as well, though she appeared to be far too dull to catch on to his behavior. Theresa Lin, former Hufflepuff, was at least four years his junior and was so star-struck by his fame that she let him get away with all manner of shenanigans.

"Honestly? I don't know," Hermione replied with a shrug. She really did look stunning despite a lack of make up or any special charms other than a Warming Charm as she pulled on her coat. "Suffice to say it's at Luna's house, so at least it's a familiar place."

"In my experience, Luna and familiar are rarely spoken in the same sentence," Severus replied, taking her cue and pulling on his traveling cloak. Hermione tutted affectionately at him and placed a Warming Charm on him as well, and he raised his shoulders to sink his chin into the collar with a sigh of contentment.

"For luck," she said, kissing him gently, then, after a final check to ensure they had all their bags in order, they warded their door and Apparated away.

The first thing Severus noticed was the noise. The outside of Luna's house was decorated gaily with glowing dirigible plums strung up in rainbow color order around her home (which was shaped like a collection of large colorful gourds with windows of many sizes and shapes built into them). A string of lights spelled "Welcome" in twinkling letters, then rearranged themselves to greet them in other languages, including Gobbledegook and what Severus supposed was probably Niffler language (which Luna had pioneered in her studies abroad).

The amber glow of the windows cast cheery light on the freshly fallen snow in the yard, and Severus put his arm around Hermione to ensure neither of them slipped on an unseen patch of ice.

"Last chance to bail out and have our own private party," he said with a suggestive lilt to his voice.

"We'll just stop in for a bit, Severus. You'll see. It won't be that bad," Hermione replied, rapping on the front door, which was made of thousands of tiny bits of colorful stained glass shaped to look like dragon scales.

A distorted shape made its way to the front door and Luna's excited expression was genuine as she beheld the two rosy-cheeked guests on her front porch.

"Come in, come in!" she said with a smile. "I know it's loud and Severus will probably want to head into the study where it's quieter, so let me take your jackets."

Severus was somewhat relieved that the party was at least taking place in a semi-familiar location. While he didn't spend much time at Luna's house, he'd been there a few times before. Already, he could tell he wasn't going to enjoy himself much. Ron was already glaring at him from by the Christmas tree, where he had his arm protectively around his wife's swelling belly.

'Is it five or six Weasleys that idiot has already pumped into the world?' Severus thought dismissively.

"Come now, Severus, it's Christmas," Luna said serenely, "now, bend down a bit. There. Much better!"

Severus was lost in his own thoughts and simply did as he had been asked, but before he knew it, Luna had placed something atop his head. He looked over at his wife, who was wearing a Santa hat that flashed different colours. She looked back at him and tried to hide a snicker behind a fake sneeze.

"What, praytell, have you inflicted upon my head, Luna?" he asked deadpan.

"Oh, it truly is a Christmas miracle!" Luna clapped her hands. "Did you hear, Hermione? He called me Luna instead of hey you or Lovegood!" She made her voice deep and grumbly in an approximation of Severus' own voice, and if he hadn't been so busy being indignant, he might have been impressed by it.

He walked over to the large mirror that stood over the fireplace and gawked at the gaudy reindeer antlers upon his head. They were striped and curled above his head, each prong ending in a sharp point like an eldritch candy cane. "Oh for the love of—"

"Now, now, Severus," Hermione caught him by the arm and spun him back to face her, silly Santa hat and all. "We need to stay in the holiday spirit."

"And look what's above you?" Neville appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and Severus resisted the urge to jump. The grinning magiherbologist before him was so different from the sniveling, chubby boy he'd been that if Severus didn't know any better, he would have thought that Neville had dabbled in dark magic.

Hermione looked up and squeaked with embarrassment. "Really, Neville!"

An enchanted bough of mistletoe had appeared above them and before either Severus or Hermione could escape, their lips were drawn together while the rest of the party seemed to notice and applauded them loudly.

The magical bough floated off to cause additional mischief after a few moments, but Severus could feel the embarrassment of being the center of attention (despite the fact that he loved Hermione very much and was not at all embarrassed to be with her, much less kiss her), and he did not like it one bit.

As soon as Severus could remove himself from the enchanted kiss, he stormed from the room, his scowl daring anyone to say anything. He tried to ignore the look Hermione had given him that said, "we will talk about this later." Most of the other guests had turned back to their conversations or their hors d'oeuvres, but he noticed that Ron was clenching his fist and gritting his teeth as he tried (and failed miserably) at trying not to look at Severus.

'What's his problem?' Severus thought to himself. 'It's not as though he doesn't have a perfectly willing partner standing right next to him."

He cast a single glance back and found Hermione talking animatedly to Minerva. "Well, good for her," he muttered, feeling somewhat sorry for himself. He used his wand to summon some appetizers from a nearby plate and then moved down the hallway to the study for a little peace.

Hermione had become an excellent Charms mistress after Flitwick had retired. And it seemed that all of her schoolmates had similar ideas. Luna took over Care of Magical Creatures when Hagrid finally settled down in France with Madame Maxine because "they let yeh have any creature you want, even the really big ones." Rather than live in Ravenclaw tower, Luna flooed from her office back to her home on the island every night. She had a number of creatures that helped keep everyone in line, though. Whether her students could see them or not was another story.

Neville had been a shoe-in when Professor Sprout finally decided to retire. Oliver Wood was in charge of flying classes, and he was as competitive as ever. Harry, of course, had taken on Defense, and was the most popular professor in school.

Minerva enjoyed being headmistress now that she was no longer the Head of Gryffindor House. Hermione had taken on those duties with gusto. Hannah, who was married to a muggleborn former Ravenclaw girl named Susie, was Head of Hufflepuff, and taught Muggle Studies with a much more modern angle than any professor before her.

And Severus? Well, after getting over the shock of surviving and the various nonsense he'd endured to heal and find himself a free man, he had taken one look at the idea of spending more of his life in the godforsaken halls of that deathtrap of a castle and ran off to start his own apothecary where he could hire other people to deal with the inanity of the general public while he took care of business and enjoyed the blessed silence in the back storeroom.

He still hated too much chatter, and the buzzing roar of conversation from the next room over was beginning to make him feel as though his brain had begun to rattle about in his skull. He detested parties. He balked at small talk. He loathed the stares and the little comments people made when they thought he couldn't hear them.

Or worse—when they were expecting that he would.

So many people thought he'd forced Hermione into a relationship when, really, it was the other way around. She was brilliant and devious and driven in ways that made his head spin. The only enduring mystery as far as he was concerned, was why she'd wanted him in the first place. She'd pursued him relentlessly in a thousand clever ways (that he had refused to acknowledge until it became unavoidable) and when he'd finally given in, it had felt so good to do so that he he never wanted to stop. In fact, he'd cursed pre-Hermione Severus for being such a bloody stubborn fool. Unlike other people who drained him simply by being in close proximity, Hermione filled him with warmth and a sort of low-level purring energy that kept him centered. Severus knew better than to ask why or how; he only knew it was right and whatever the name for it might be, he only knew he wanted her. Her strength kept him sane, and she was always doing tiny thoughtful things for him that made him feel equal parts elation and guilt for being utterly pants at reciprocating.

'She did like the book I picked up for her on obscure Celtic charms from the 1670's,' he thought, but really, was a book nearly as soul-soothing as her little notes in his lunch (which he never asked her to make, but she made out of love anyway), or coming by to visit him while she had a free period with a funny story and a kiss. Her eyes always went to him in a room, and whenever he felt that gaze, it filled him with warmth and joy and stillness.

'She's still far too good for me,' he thought, his fingers trailing on the leatherbound volumes that sat tucked into bookcase nearest the window.

Ah, and he had finally arrived at the crux of it all. This was why he'd come to the party. It had nothing to do with the noise, or the stares, or even Ron-bloody-Weasley.

The thing was, in his heart of hearts, he knew he needed to stop being such a bloody leech, always taking from her. He needed to stop hiding away, forcing her to be his strength while he distracted himself with problems of his own making.

"As usual, I'm my own worst enemy," he lamented, turning the large glass globe near the far end of the room and watching tiny glowing magical creatures appear and animate in short loops as it turned.

"Oh, I didn't realize someone was in here." He turned and saw the belly of Theresa Weasley enter the room before the rest of her followed behind. All in all, she was wearing robes that flattered her figure, but Severus was more annoyed at being interrupted than he was willing to pass judgement on her fashion sense.

"Shall I leave?" he asked, wondering if she had some sort of need for the room. Pregnant people got short of breath sometimes, didn't they? Sometimes they went into labor early. "Are you in pain?"

She smiled sweetly at him and shook her head. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just...I wanted to say that I haven't really had a chance to talk to you in a long time."

Severus tried to think back to any time he'd actually talked to the young woman. Probably at some point in Potions class when she'd messed something up and he'd been forced to correct her in order to stop her from blowing up the entire room like countless other students before and after her, but the memory was hazy at best. "I suppose that's true."

She waddled closer to him and it occurred to him that she was walking particularly oddly. She seemed to be exaggerating the swing of her hips and giving him a strange look that came across as being partway between indigestion and a smirk.

"Are you...quite all right?" he asked, backing up a step as she advanced upon him.

"Oh," she said, and the timbre of her voice had grown decidedly sultry, "I would say that I'll be more than fine as soon as you finally admit your true feelings!"

"What?" He was truly bewildered. "Are you—"

And then she smiled the sort of smile a crocodile has upon snapping its teeth shut around its prey.

Severus felt a familiar tingling sensation of magic and looked down at her hand to see that she was grasping a sprig of charmed mistletoe.

"C'mere you," she growled, and practically leapt upon him, snogging at his lips with reckless abandon. Severus was forced by the charm to reciprocate for a short time but just as he was pulling away, his sneer ready to rise on his face, he heard a tiny whimper that froze him in his tracks.

There, standing by the door with a look of absolute heartbreak, was Hermione. Ron had one hand on her shoulder and was holding a drink with his other hand. He had positioned himself slightly behind Hermione, so only Severus could see the unblinking expression of triumph on Ron's face as Hermione turned into his shoulder for comfort.

"That's my wife, you disgusting, cradle-robbing letch!" Ron roared, making a good display of being a jilted husband. Theresa had seemingly Vanished the mistletoe and made a huge ruckus about how Severus had cornered her and thrown himself upon her when she'd only meant to get some air.

"He was really obsessed with my bump!" she moaned with a repulsed shiver, "I think he's some sort of pervert!" She ran to Hermione, who took her by the hand and led her out. Hermione only looked back at Severus once, her betrayed expression enough to make him feel nauseous. His heart sank. He'd meant to help her, to be her equal and instead he had found himself in an even more impossible situation than before.

Ron stormed over, his mock outrage fading away into a gloating grin. He turned back for a moment to ensure Hermione wasn't there, then turned back to Severus. "So. You thought you could just steal her away from me?"

Severus sneered and stepped back, his wand held at the ready. "She belongs to herself. There was no stealing involved."

Ron smirked. "That's where you're wrong, Snape. Hermione has always belonged to me. I took her first kiss. Her first...time…" He stared at Severus as though he were imagining driving a stake into the taller wizard's heart. Yeah, that's right. I've taken nearly all of those precious firsts. Pity."

Severus stared at Ron for a moment then burst out in an uncharacteristically loud guffaw that seemed to rattle the ginger-haired wizard, who took a step backward.

"Mr. Weasley, you are either an utter idiot or are you trying very, very hard to appear as such."

"Wha—"

Snape crossed his arms and fixed Ron with a glare. "I don't care, Weasley. What she has done with others. Whether I'm her first experience with something in her life. Any of it. You can't "take" anything from me by having been part of her life in the past. She's not some sort of object for you to mark like a dog lifting its leg. She's a person."

"B..bu...but….she saw you! Kissing my wife, Snape. She's gotta hate you forever for that." Ron's face was nearly demented with glee.

"You mean your absurdly pregnant wife who I've never shown any interest in before? And as for that kiss, it's awfully convenient that it happened during a holiday party in which charmed mistletoe has been sighted floating around, don't you think?" Severus felt his initial panic resolving itself into seething self-righteousness as his long-practised skill of cutting the object of his disdain to the quick. "If you think she'll hate me forever, then you don't really know Hermione very well, do you?"

"We'll see about that!" Ron snarled, taking a step forward.

Severus was far too quick on his feet, though, and already had his wand tip pressed into Ron's chest. "I think that you should take a moment to see reason instead, or be ready to suffer the consequences."

"You wouldn't!" Ron sputtered.

"Are you absolutely certain of that?" Severus replied in what he hoped was his most dangerous voice.

"Get your wand off of me!" Ron stepped backwards, stumbling over a lump in the carpet and only barely stopped himself from outright fleeing the room, then slammed the door behind him.

Severus let out the breath he'd been holding and felt his confidence crumbling. She'd run off, obviously upset. If he went out there, everyone was going to stare at him, judging him for any number of offenses they could come up with. Hell, Ron Weasley had probably begun spreading terrible rumours already.

I should never have come. Social events are usually a disaster for me.

He couldn't focus. He felt weak, his mind sluggish.

But then, a flash of memory—the drink in Ron's hand that was no longer there during his confrontation. And the way that Theresa had grasped Hermione's arm so possessively…

I've taken nearly all of those precious firsts.

"Nearly all." The words escaped his lips, but it took him a moment for the full weight of meaning to hit him.

The realization hit him like a sucker punch to the gut and he lurched forward, his thoughts of personal humiliation evaporating entirely.

He wouldn't. He's unpleasant and hates me, but he wouldn't...would he?

Severus tore through the door his eyes desperately searching for Hermione's bushy hair, but he couldn't see her.

"Severus!"

Severus jumped and turned, his wand at the ready to fend off an unexpected foe.

"Oi, not in the face! This is a party, not a duelling tournament!" Neville stood there, looking less than amused, and swatted the wand away like an annoying bug. "Go out the back door. Luna's trying to stall them, but I don't know if she can hold them for long. Do you happen to have...er...a Sobering Draught on hand? I have all the ingredients, but it takes three days to brew to completion."

"I'm a bloody Potions master, of course I know that!" Severus hissed, then, took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He dug in his pockets, pulling out a small, green phial of liquid. "I always keep extra on me. Is it bad?"

Neville nodded, and they began to move towards the door, guests parting quickly to let them pass. "Hermione was acting really weird. She was declaring loudly that she was going to divorce you for cheating on her."

Severus winced. Of course. Here it was at last.

"But we all know that's utter bollocks," Neville continued, prompting a shocked glance from Severus. "We may not understand everything she sees in you, but I've never seen her more disgustingly happy than when she's by your side. And you're not exactly subtle about your own devotion. Anyone could tell— shite!"

Both of them dove out of the way as a jet of red light nearly slammed into them both. The ridiculous reindeer headband was the first casualty of the evening as the spell glanced off one of the antlers and it caught fire. Severus pulled it off and threw it aside, only for it to be blasted into oblivion by another spell. Luna was holding a shield up while Theresa was blasting spells from her wand, a look of demented glee on her face. Severus vaguely wondered if this woman was somehow related to Bellatrix Lestrange, because that would explain a thing or two.

"You'll all see! He'll love me!" Theresa cackled, her pupils tiny in the wide whites of her eyes.

"Ugh, Neville, think! What spells are safe for pregnant witches? UGH! It's been years since I was in Defense and—" Neville was muttering loudly to himself as though it would actually accomplish anything.

Severus found himself rolling his eyes as he dug into the folds of his coat.

"You ca-n't hit me, cuz you're a bunch of good guys! Your lot's all made of softies who don't want to hit the ba-by!" Theresa sang in a sing-song voice. Severus slouched down lower against the tree he was using for cover just as the top of it exploded and left splinters all over his head. He swore, then his lips drew up in a triumphant smirk as his fingers found their quarry.

"Neville!" he hissed, and Neville turned to look at him with a deer-in-headlights expression. "Shoot the tree next to her with a stunner."

"But I might hit—" Neville looked sick.

"DO IT!"

Neville took a deep breath, steeling himself, then turned and shot a stunner at the innocent tree in question.

Theresa's lips drew back in a snarl and she advanced on Neville's hiding spot. "GOT YOU!"

Severus darted around the tree to his right, a Disillusionment Charm partially obscuring his body. He got within three feet of the pregnant witch and unstoppered the bottle, tossing it at her feet.

"Wha—?" The deranged witch only had time to finish half of the word before a thick black cloud poured over her, holding her in place. Severus was relieved to see her eyes roll back in her head and soon she was floating peacefully unconscious in the black smoke as though she were suspended in water.

"Is she…?" Neville was beside him, wand ready.

"Go to your wife," Severus growled in reply. "She may need some of these." He handed over three phials that were clearly marked.

Neville grabbed them and ran to where Luna lay, her arm at an odd angle.

"Now," Severus said, pointing his wand at the unconscious witch, "You will tell me what I need to know."

Severus hated probing the minds of others without their consent, but with Hermione gone, he was willing to take drastic measures.

He pressed his wand to her temple and whispered, "Legillimens."

Ron's smiling face. A kiss to her temple. 'Good girl. If you do this for me, then you will be my queen. And she'll be the one on her knees scrubbing the dishes, just like those elves she always loved more than anything.'

The Weasley Manor, built with the fortune Ron had received after the war. A place underground. A holding cell. A strangely shaped bed with...shackles?

And there. A second room. With a single old crib inside.

'She won't be able to leave once her shame begins to show. She will never belong to anyone else.'

Ron's voice. Soft, loving, demented. The memory of a kiss on Theresa's brow as she finished brewing the proper potion.

Severus pulled himself from Theresa's mind and felt violently ill. Still, he knew just where Ron had gone.

"Hold her here until the Aurors arrive," Severus instructed Neville, who was somewhat busy tearing up with joy as his wife regained consciousness but nodded all the same.

With a loud crack, he Apparated away, his mind focused only on where he must go to get her back.

Hermione didn't realize where she was at first. She'd had something sweet to drink after seeing something upsetting...Severus was...he was...something. Her brain felt like it was sloshing about in her skull, and it galled her. This was why she generally didn't drink anything stronger than the odd glass of red wine with a fancy dinner.

She was lying on the ground, which was odd, because she didn't remember falling. Someone had grabbed her hand and there had been a bunch of shouting. A flash of white-blonde hair. Luna?

But that couldn't be right. There'd been a party and….

"Sev-rus?" Her voice echoed loudly. She grasped for her wand, and could not find it.

"Don't you think you ought to forget that worthless Slytherin scum?" A familiar voice, but her head was spinning, and she couldn't think of who.

"Why?" Hermione couldn't manage many things in her current state, but defiance was built into the core of her very being.

A light flickered into being and Hermione saw the room more clearly, her eyes growing wide.

"Because," Ron Weasley said with a smile, holding a hypodermic needle in one hand, "you are going to have all sorts of more pressing needs very, very soon."

Severus smashed against the wards of Weasley's home, a scream of rage bursting from his lips before he could control it. He was thrown backwards onto his back end in the mud. Stupid, stupid. Can't let my temper get the best of me. He'd tried every spell he knew, but when one line of magic fell, another rose up to meet him.

It wasn't working. He was in the right place, but he couldn't get in. He was willing to go to hell to bring Hermione back, but he couldn't get into a bloody manor house because of some stupid wards!

Severus sneered one last time at the glittering ward wall. He knew all too well that these weren't the work of Ron or his wife. They'd been specially commissioned a few months earlier. There'd been an article in the Daily Prophet about it and everything. It had seemed odd, seeing as the Weasleys hadn't been historically interested in the way of security after the fall of Voldemort, but he hadn't cared much about their reasoning for the change at the time. But now…

"This was planned." A thick cloud streamed from his mouth as he spoke, and he allowed himself a moment of despair. He'd tried not to be paranoid. And when he'd been shunned, he had made himself small, tried to simply disappear. Hermione had saved him from a fate worse than death, and even though he knew there wasn't anything he could do to repay her kindness, he could do this for her now.

His eyes strayed to a black grate in the street, and a grim expression spread over his lips.

Severus knew from many years of getting into places where he wasn't wanted, there was always a way if one was willing to get a little bit dirty.

And Severus was used to getting as filthy as necessary if it would protect the one he loved.

"Wakey wakey, Mione."

Hermione sputtered and gasped as someone dumped cold water all over her head. She tried to wipe the water from her eyes, but her hands were bound behind her back.

A hand and a cloth lowered into her line of sight and gingerly wiped her face clean. Hermione winced away from it and blinked slowly until her eyes focused better in the dim light. "Wa—Ron?!"

"That's right," he said, fixing her with a toothy grin. "Wanted to make sure you were sober so I can see the moment the fight dies in you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Hermione's face hardened into a mask of fury.

"God, I miss seeing that face." Ron patted her head and stepped back, cocking his head to the side as though admiring a work of art. "But don't misunderstand me. I hope it takes awhile to break you."

"Have you been drinking? Taking drugs? Ron, I can help you if you have a problem." Hermione grasped for a rational explanation for what was happening.

Ron turned away from her, then and appeared to be shuddering slightly.

"Ron...I...I didn't know you were having problems. If we'd known sooner, Harry and I would have helped, I promise."

Ron turned back, and Hermione could see that he was shaking with silent laughter. "You're the idiot, Mione." His mouth turned up in a gash-like grin, and Hermione shuddered with the sudden thought of inhuman. "I don't want help. I want you. All of you. And this time, you're not going to say no." He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back painfully and licked her neck, then abruptly let her go and began to disrobe slowly in front of her, and her stomach lurched with realization.

"You-you don't have to do this." Hermione shuddered with revulsion as he showed off his obvious arousal. "Ron! No! This is rape!"

"Oh, it's more than rape, Mione. I meant it when I said that I wanted all your firsts. First kiss, first fuck. There's one more, Mione." He was behind her now, and she tried to arch her neck, struggling against her bonds. He rubbed himself against the soft fabric of her dress like a rutting dog, then slowly began to hike it up. "I've done my research, you see. Right now, the drug I've injected will be working its magic on your precious womb." His hand snaked around the front of her, and rubbed her lower belly possessively. "One or two shots of my virulent semen, and you'll be nice and pregnant before suppertime."

"You're a monster." Hermione's head was bowed, but her voice was pure venom. Small waves of electricity arced off of her skin, but it didn't seem to do much to Ron other than make his hair stick up a bit.

"No more a monster than the greasy git and his greasy cock. I mean, how could you choose him over me?" Ron slipped his fingers under her panties and jammed them roughly inside of her. "How could you let him pour his disgusting seed inside of your womb? Ah, there you go, getting nice and wet for me. That lovely cocktail I gave you earlier is going to make you enjoy this more than you've ever enjoyed that scrawny Slytherin prick. I'm going to enjoy making you my slave."

"You abducted me from the party. People will be coming after me, and you're going to rot in Azkaban," Hermione replied, but her voice quivered slightly. She hated her body for reacting to the repugnant touch of this man she'd once called a friend.

"They won't find you. I've taken measures." Ron's breath was hot and sour in her ear. "And when you're my broken little breeding doll, I will order you to tell everyone that you're happy and content with your new role."

"Severus will find me. And Merlin help you if I break free, because if I do, you'll be wishing Severus got to you first." Hermione growled.

"Don't bother screaming for help. I've made sure we won't be interrupted." He paused for a long minute, then licked her thigh, giggling with pleasure when she writhed and demanded that he stop. "You're a fighter, that's for sure. You'll make strong children for me."

"Fuck you," Hermione growled, spitting on the floor.

"Brightest witch of her age," Ron said softly, grabbing the band of her knickers and slowly sliding them down. "But no, I believe that I shall be fucking you. Now, are you ready for your Christmas gift? I promise, you're really going to like it."

If Severus never saw another mote of dust for the rest of his life, it would be far too soon. Sure, digging wasn't as hard in his animagus form, but it was still tedious work. He was lucky that he'd brought some Impervious Potion with him that night. His claws were making short work of the ground and the stone walls that lay under the Manor. It was far too deep for the wards to extend down that far,

Truth be told, Severus hated his animagus form. It looked ridiculous, and was mostly useless for anything practical thanks to his tiny eyes and strangely curved clawed feet.

He hadn't shared this secret with Hermione, largely because she was still trying to get the paperwork through the Ministry to start the process herself, and he didn't want her to feel like he was rubbing her nose in it. Also, it didn't help that he wasn't exactly registered with the Ministry, which she would frown upon. The whole registry thing bothered him, though. As far as he was concerned, it was his magic, and therefore, it was his business. Besides, the whole thing was largely only meant for those who worked for Hogwarts (due to the supervision of minors) or at the Ministry (due to the potential of literal moles from other magical governments). And since Severus worked for neither organization any longer, he considered himself home-free.

And so, it was with much squeaky grumbling that Severus finally found himself breaking through into an underground corridor that appeared to have been originally built to store wine. He snuffled about in the darkness, using his eyes, which specialized in low-light areas, and his sensitive nose to find what he was seeking.

It didn't take him long. He came around a corner and found his wife tied to a strange contraption that seemed to be half bed, half restraint device, and a buck naked Ron Weasley, pushing his cock up against her bare pubic mound.

"Come on, then. Open up for daddy," Ron crooned, pulling Hermione's hair back as she growled at him angrily.

"Go to hell, Ron!" Hermione hollered, and Severus could see that Ron was having trouble gaining access to anything past her outer labia.

There were few types of magic that could be cast wandlessly, but sexual magic, including that of a witch who did not wish to be penetrated, was one of the strongest.

"I didn't want to do this, but if I have to, I will." Ron summoned another hypodermic needle from a nearby counter. "It might break your mind, but oh well. Necessary evils, am I right?"

Ron was far too distracted to notice the small creature galloping up from behind, and so, it was to his utter detriment when a pink fairy armadillo leapt up and closed its jaws around his dangly bits.

"YEOOOOAAAAH!" Ron roared, his hand slipping. The needle seemed to fall in slow motion and it embedded itself in Ron's still-throbbing erection. Severus let go, and scurried out of the way, digging his snout into the ground and gargling the dirt to get the taste of blood out of his mouth. He almost didn't realize quite where he was standing.

"Oh, you dear little thing." Hermione had seen him. Even with tears streaming silently down her cheeks and her face dirtied up, her hair a fright from having been abused by Ron, she was looking at him with such adoration that it made Severus' heart nearly beat out of his chest.

Severus froze mid-spit take, and tried to think of what a pink fairy armadillo would do naturally.

He decided to roll up in a ball and make a small squeaking noise while frantically trying to figure out how he could disappear and then reappear dramatically in his human form.

Meanwhile, Ron was screaming as his turgid cock began to grow in size. This swelling also seemed to extend to his bleeding scrotum, and he was frantically trying to stop the bleeding while also trying to keep himself from toppling over. It seemed that whatever substance had been in the syringe had rather horrifying side effects, for he soon bent over, his expression growing more demented than before, and his arms growing harrier and longer. The bleeding in his scrotum had stopped, seemingly because the magic that had changed his genitalia had knitted the skin while enlarging it. He beat his chest and then advanced upon Hermione again.

"I FUCK YOU UNTIL YOU DIE!" the horrible orangutan-like human bellowed.

Oh bugger it all. Severus shot up to human size, slipped a spare wand to an utterly shocked Hermione, and began hitting the Ron-creature with stunners.

Now this was satisfying. For the first time in the entire disastrous evening, Severus was not trapped in his head thinking morose thoughts. Instead, he was hitting this horrible oaf in the gonads with every bit of spite and fury as a man who'd seen his wife drugged and sexually assaulted could muster.

And muster he did.

Hermione, meanwhile, had freed herself and began her own onslaught. A Stinging Nettle Jinx brought the Ron-beast to his knees, and Hermione quickly slapped an Incarcerous spell on his legs while Severus worked on the arms. When Ron was fully bound, he lay moaning in pain and frustration as his horrible monstrous cock went a dark ugly colour from being left in such a state for so long.

Aurors were inevitably called, and Ron was carted away. It was subsequently discovered that Ron had created an entire hidden area under his manor, ostensibly to hold Hermione prisoner and force her to bear his bastard children. Under Verataserum, Ron confessed that Theresa had been given hypnotic suggestions, which had literally turned her into a sleeper agent of sorts who could be triggered into a psychotic persona with the usage of key magical words. She hadn't even known what she was doing for most of the party. After a few months in St. Mungos, she was back to some semblance of normality, and she understandably filed for divorce. Ron was placed in solitary confinement, and it was said that most of his horrible disfigurements had been permanent. His bits remained swollen and painful to the touch, so that he was unable to find any kind of relief, no matter how hard he tried.

That night, Severus held Hermione close to him after many, many showers to get the stench of Ron off of her.

"You were right, we should never have gone" she said over and over again, and it tore at his heart to hear her say it.

"No, we couldn't have known what would happen," he kissed her hair and she snuggled into him so tightly that it felt as though she were trying to climb inside of his skin. He'd never allowed himself to think that he was her safe place as much as she was his, but in the wake of this horrifying night, he could not deny that it was true.

"Severus, please," she whispered into his ear, and snaked her hand down until it rested against his stirring cock.

"No, it's too soon," he said, not wanting to bring back such fresh trauma.

"No, it's not. He tried to get inside of me. He wanted the last thing I refused to give to him. I've decided. He's never going to get it. I won't let him." Hermione kissed him fiercely, and rolled onto him, rubbing herself against him suggestively.

"We won't let him." Severus whispered back, biting his lip when she began rubbing his stiffening cock between her thighs.

"He gave me something. A drug. If we...if we do this…" She bit her lip, her eyes rolling back in her head as she rubbed herself slick and wet atop his pubic mound. "There will be no going back. We…"

Severus kissed her words away. "Only if you're absolutely certain."

"Are you?" Her voice was so soft, it was barely a whisper.

"Absolutely," he replied, hissing as she drew up and slowly slid onto his cock.

"Say it," she commanded, kissing him hard as she rode him raw and hot, their bodies pressing together in a merging of magic and pleasure.

"I...I…" His head was full of light, and there was only her, above him, inside of him, around him, etched into his very soul.

"You. What?" She slowed down, her eyes half-lidded.

He kissed her, his arms encircling her and he rolled her under him, pressing her down with his body weight, his kisses. His eyes were burning and he finally let his inhibitions go as his body strained to hold on. "I'm going to...ah...fill you up...ahh...make a baby with you..."

She held him tightly against her as he rode her to their mutual completion. He felt her spasming against him, drawing his semen deep inside of her, and he knew that what he'd said was true.

They held each other tightly long into the night, and in the wee hours of the morning, he awoke to her pressing against his growing erection, needing him yet again.

He was, as ever, more than happy to oblige.

8 months later...

Severus hated going to parties, especially now that Hermione was in her last month of pregnancy. It had been a bit of a shock at first to know that she was carrying twins, but then again, it was also a bit of a shock to Severus that she'd endured his company for longer than ten minutes, much less wanted to marry or have a family with him. And to be completely honest, sometimes, he was quite frankly surprised that he was still alive at all.

After a life of suffering, he had found happiness, and most days, he admitted that Hermione had found happiness with him, though he was puzzled as to how she could find such joy with someone as scarred and traumatized as himself.

But maybe that's the point. Maybe there isn't any logic in love. Maybe there just is...this…

He wrapped his arm around her protectively. She'd refused to leave his side since the incident at Weasley Manor and had seen several Mind Healers at St Mungoes to process her trauma. Minerva had been utterly understanding about the entire thing, though the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter was not. When Hermione's pregnancy was discovered, the media had a heyday speculating that the offspring was the demented progeny of the Ron-beast. Severus spent an entire week enticing and transplanting a family of large garden spiders to the lovely garden surrounding his home and cast a few choice spells, and soon, the stories, (along with Skeeter herself), vanished completely.

Now, though, they were finally having a baby shower, but it would be on their terms. Severus had placed wards around the house that would nullify any sort of ill-intended magical objects, detect and change poisons into springwater, and repel anyone not invited on the guest list. Both he and Hermione had a second wand hidden somewhere on their person in addition to their usual one. Severus had also lovingly crafted a plethora of hidden pockets into Hermione's robes, each with its own Undetectable Extension Charm. Each one contained a small metal square with a label in braille that Hermione could read with her fingers to tell what they were. He'd let her down once. He would never do so again. And yes, Hermione could definitely protect herself, but Severus wanted her to have every tool at her disposal to do so.

She smiled at him as he finished straightening the balloon display for the fiftieth time. "Severus, really, it will be fun."

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "Can't we just have them send gifts by owl instead of having to actually see anyone?"

"If you like, you can curl up in my pocket," Hermione said with a knowing grin.

Severus crossed his arms. "I will do no such thing."

"You know you want to!" she said in a sing-song voice, and Severus rolled his eyes, then shifted into his pink fairy armadillo form and crawled protectively onto her bump with a squeak that said, there, now are you happy?

She smiled and kissed him on his cute little forehead.

Soon, there was a knock at the door, and Severus quickly hopped back to the floor and transformed back into his immaculately black-clad self.

"I'll answer that," he said, looking protectively at Hermione and her bump.

"Don't murder them," she replied with a grin.

"Only if they deserve it," he muttered through his teeth.

The party, all things considered, went well. And Hermione beamed when Severus did a practice run of pushing around the patterned pink double-pram that they had received. Everyone agreed; it was hard to be afraid of the imposing Potions master while he was pushing around a floral pink pram. Then Severus had scowled to a degree hitherto not seen, and these opinions were hastily reevaluated. Severus vowed that he would learn a charm to change the colour to something less offensive to the eyes.

"You really are the best person who's ever happened to me," Severus said, kissing her forehead gently as they settled in for the night.

"You're the one that saved me, Severus," Hermione replied, kissing his nose.

"I should think that the saving has been decidedly equal, though skewed more on your side than mine," Severus replied.

"Is that so? Do you have any empirical evidence?" Hermione arched an eyebrow and Severus let out a laugh that he didn't know he was capable of making.

"Let's just call it even, and leave it at that."

She snuggled into him, and he wrapped his arm around her belly, feeling the soft movements of the two small souls within.

"I guess we're stuck with one another. Forever." Hermione breathed out a happy sigh, her body still and relaxing into him.

"Pity," he breathed back, kissing her on the temple. "Poor, poor us. May we be besotted with the misfortune of being disgustingly happy together for the rest of our lives."

"I love you, Severus. Forever and a day." Hermione's eyes closed and she breathed more deeply as sleep took her.

"Forever and a day, my love. Forever and a day." As sleep claimed him, Severus knew that there was nowhere he would rather be than by her side.