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English
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Published:
2016-11-15
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2,242
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1/1
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Love Unlimited

Summary:

Even the most thoroughly prepared man can be taken by surprise when love arrives at last.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

A/N: Inspired and encouraged by my dear friend & partner in crime, the incomparable Desert-Sea....my first one-shot is for you.

 

Throughout his life, Severus Snape believed in the philosophy of comprehensive and exhaustive preparation….in all things.

As a Hogwarts’ student, he worked diligently in his studies to achieve the highest scores on both NEWTS and OWLS ever documented at Hogwarts. A record still unbroken to this day, mind.

As a professor attempting to educate countless hordes of inept dunderheads, he was able to navigate the little cretins through the dangerous labyrinth (and subtle science and exact art, imbeciles) of potion making—WITHOUT. EVER. LOSING. ONE. STUDENT. Yes, he could attribute that to his incomparable preparation skills.

(Note to self: Never did receive that heartfelt “Thank You” letter from Longbottom....hmm. Ingrate.)

As an Order member and Agent for the Light, he had to anticipate each strategic turn made by Voldemort and his minions. And, only the most meticulous preparation of arming himself with powerful anti-venom remedies had reprieved him from certain death by Nagini. No, that was not simply luck, my friends.

Preparation.

And so, of course he would approach an evening of romance utilizing those same painstakingly detailed planning skills which were applied to All. Things. Snape.

He glanced in the mirror for the third time in the last fifteen minutes.

Beautifully tailored charcoal gray trousers and matching silk shirt opened at the neck just so. Check.

Hair neatly brushed. Check.

Appropriate amount of cologne applied. Check.

Assorted hors d'oeuvres on the coffee table for nibbling throughout evening. Check.

A chilled bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal Brut. Pretentious swill, but what the hell. Check.

Mood lighting emitting a warm glow about the room. Check.

Mood. Hmm. Music. That final piece.

Snape strolled into his neatly decorated parlour where a wall of oak shelves held a rather extensive music collection accumulated through the years. He began to thumb through some of his CDs and chuckled when he found one that would be most appropriate.

"...Ah," he murmured, "just the one I was looking for. The incomparable Mr White and his Love Unlimited Orchestra.....yes, indeed. This is precisely the right ingredient which will lu...bri...cate the ambiance."

As Snape's eyes scanned the disk’s contents, unconsciously he started to hum "You're the First, the Last, My Everything", catching himself and smiling. It amused him that so few knew this side of the former buttoned-up academic. No, his past students and even most of his fellow staff members at Hogwarts (other than Minerva who saw right through him. Nag.) would never have guessed in their most vivid imaginings that Severus Snape was a closet sensualist. And a man who adored women. Well...one woman…..

It had been many years since the end of Voldemort’s Reign of Complete Shite. It had taken Snape a while to readjust his life around a period of peace and calm….no spying, no insane Dumbledore demands, no endless nights in the dank dungeons, trying to anticipate the next move. Always the next fucking move. Like a battered pawn on a chess board, Severus increasingly felt the crushing weight of his dual role.

It took years for him to exorcise those snake-faced demons. And the nightmares which tormented him. Finally, he began to recognize that life needn’t be a daily crucifixion. Life, instead… particularly his life….could be an enjoyable and light-filled journey.

It was an epiphany. Took years, but he finally arrived at that wondrous conclusion. Fifty fucking points to Slytherin.

Now In his fifties, he recalled the years when he had courted a variety of ladies.

At first, in those early post-war days, he sought beauty. Perhaps due to two decades in the presence of ugliness and cruelty at Death Eater revels, it was natural to desire such unblemished exquisiteness. He dated only women with perfectly sculpted faces and figures to match. Innately, he knew this was dreadfully shallow and vain, but having a stunning French lingerie model on his arm at Ministry functions did turn many heads with envy. (Yes, Potter. Wish in one hand and crap in the other. See which one fills up first.)

And for someone who had been socially inept and unpopular at school, this kind of flattering attention now was—dare he admit it—fun.

(He was still trying to sort out who this “Victoria” was and uncover her so-called “secret”…the lingerie model never did disclose those details. Bitch.)

Then the novelty of it all wore off. Beautiful women, he learned, came with too much damned baggage. And were always late. And applied an inordinate amount of hair-gel and eye liner. Minerva had mentioned something about them needing “extensive conservation” or some such words.

Soon friends and acquaintances began to act as match-makers. Knowing he was now open to a relationship (Get over yourselves. I am male; I come with a cock. Idiots.), it seemed everyone had a cousin/sister/aunt/former schoolmate who was “just right” for Snape.

“Oh, Severus,” Molly Weasley had gushed, “you are going to just LOVE Arthur’s cousin, Lena. She’s another Weasley through and through….and she was first in her class in Charms…...”

He had stopped listening a second after the vomit-inducing “another Weasley” endorsement. Severus’ gut told him to seek immediate self-incarceration in Azkaban rather than date the cousin. But, for politeness sake, and because of Molly’s past kindness to him, he submitted.

What a fucking disaster of Grawp-ic proportions.

Of course, she was a ginger….what else could he expect that family to harvest. But it was her repeated remarks about Lily Potter which grated on his nerves. Evidently, “the Great Charms’ Scholar” had memorized his bio (“Yes. I am well-endowed. Now kindly fuck off.”) and was trying to monopolize his past attraction to Lily in order to further her own relationship agenda.

“You know, Sev…” Lena intoned in her nasally voice, “…I was so relieved to read about your friendship with Lily Potter. I have so much in common with her, you know. We’re both red headed, female, and our first names start with L….”

“Yes,” Severus seethed, “practically twins.”

It took a few of these so-called “blind dates” (“I prayed for blindness,” he had told a disappointed Hooch, “after meeting your friend, Martha the Medusa….”) and the match-making finally ceased.

Severus was back on the dating scene, on his own devices, and soon realized he was impatiently searching for something different. Something much more...substantial. But what?

It was on a chilly, drenching day in Muggle London when he stumbled onto his answer.

He was scanning through the bins at Hobgoblin Music on Rathbone Place, having nothing particular to do that afternoon. The name of the store had attracted Snape. Perhaps the proprietor was a wizard.

The 70’s CD section featured music from his era—and thus had caught his attention. Having been raised in a Muggle town, he had many memories of hearing tracks from his neighbor’s home on warm summer evenings when he was on school break.

That was when he was first introduced to the smooth basso profondo of Mr Barry White accompanied by the Love Unlimited Orchestra.

White’s music was sublime, passionate, and overtly sexual. He had never heard any man croon about women like Mr White. Even all these years later, Severus smiled at the recollection.

As he returned the CD to the bin, he felt someone nudge him.

And there she was. Damp chestnut hair carelessly tied back, waves and curls all askew, wearing a dreadful pink raincoat.

Hermione “my-hand-is-in-the-air-again” Granger.

Le Insufferable One.

Granger seemed as stunned to see him there as he was seeing her, “Oh! Professor….how are you? I haven’t seen you in years…..” her voice, now a bit deeper, perhaps huskier. Maybe a touch more….sexy?

Yes, it had been years. He quickly did the math in his head. If I am 55, then she’s around 35, 36? Could that be so?

No longer the little imp with her head perpetually buried in a book, Granger had grown up…and filled out. Nicely, it seemed. Indeed. Quite nicely. She was not beautiful in the conventional sense….no, not like the plastic models he had dated. Nor was she quirky like the blind dates from Hell he had endured. She was just…

Utterly lovely.

Snape felt like his stomach had dropped through the floor. He actually felt dizzy, for fuck’s sake. What the hell was that? A heart attack? Stroke? What??? It took a moment to refocus.

“Are you….alright, Professor?” Granger murmured, concerned. She grabbed his arm.

He came back to himself, “…Ah, yes, Miss Granger. I am…fine. Just getting over a bit of a virus, it seems…”

(Well done, Severus. A virus. Are you twelve?)

“Well, I hope you feel better soon, “she said, “…You are looking quite well otherwise. The last time I think we saw one another was at that Christmas ministry party….you brought a date, I remember….”

(Ah yes, Patrice the polymerized mannequin from Marseilles.)

Snape’s eyebrow raised, “Oh? I don’t recall seeing you that evening, Miss Granger….”

“Hermione. You can call me that now,” she blushed….like the most alluring rose petal, he noted, “...and as for that night, I had come alone. And I hid in the corner most of the evening….”

“I see,” although he didn't, “well, perhaps we can continue this conversation over tea or coffee?”

Those lovely brown eyes opened wide, “Oh! Yes, of course. I have time if you do, Professor….”

He gently touched her small hand, “It’s Severus….please...”

And that, as they say, was that.

It took a little over a month from the time they saw each other at the music store (38 days, 7 hours and 16 minutes, if you must know. Morons.) for Severus to move beyond a chaste goodnight kiss to practically tossing Hermione onto his couch and wrapping himself around her petite body. That was the same night he had confessed that he adored her, and was fully committed to an exclusive relationship.

(Translation: All past, current and future suitors will be immediately terminated. She's fucking mine now. Peace out.)

Hermione was strangely perplexed. Which confused Severus.

A lot.

“I thought you’d want this, Hermione…” oh no, she noticed the scowl, “Have I misread your feelings about us?”

She practically leapt off the couch. “No! No! Not misreading, Severus. Please! I do want this, more than anything….it’s just that….well, I remember some of the women you had been with before, and I don’t have that….I mean, I don’t think I…..” She plopped back on the couch. Defeated. Not saying this right.

“Ah, I think I understand….” He stroked her cheek gently, “Those other women……anyone I had dated before you, there was no love there. Nothing. Even Lily and I….we never truly cared for each other in a romantic way….” (Hadn’t she read the bio? It was right there in chapter six, “Have Cock, Will Travel”— that's all he was about then. Foolish girl.)

He couldn’t tell from her expression what she was thinking. Was he not convincing her enough? She was IT. She was The One, for fuck’s sake.

She was the Gilly to his Weed.

The Poly to his Juice.

The Bane to his Wolf….oh bloody hell, that’s just puerile.

There would be no one else for him as long as he was able to draw a breath in this damned world.

Severus rose from the couch and beheld her (My God, she is so fucking delectable). He softly smiled. Or slightly smirked….Hermione still couldn’t tell which was which yet. He walked over to the CD player and after making a few adjustments, pressed PLAY….

As the song’s intro began to drift through the speakers, he knelt down before her, taking her hands, “I want you to listen to these words, Hermione. Do you remember at the music store? The day we met….I was holding this CD in my hand. Later on, I purchased it because…well, it reminds me of you. Now listen….”

...My first, my last, my everything
And the answer to all my dreams
You’re my sun, my moon, my guiding star
My kind of wonderful, that's what you are…

 

The wedding took place at Gretna Green around three weeks later. (19 days, 6 hours and 12 minutes, if you must know. Idiots.)

And now, exactly one year to the date, Severus was checking his list. Being prepared for such a significant milestone in their marriage was quite important, mind.

He briefly surveyed the room one last time. She’ll be walking in the door any moment now.

First thing she’ll see will be the long stemmed Traviata roses. She loves those.

And there on the table, her favorite dessert, the Chocolate Waterfall cake, a smaller version of the one from the wedding.

He was as prepared as he could be. Undeniably. Absolutely. And….most contentedly.

Yes, it had taken him almost fifty five years. But it had happened. He had found that elusive thing which so many never discover. Quite tragic, that. He acknowledged, with authentic humility and gratitude, the abundant gift he had been given in the Autumn of his days.

The door blew open, disrupting his maudlin thoughts.

And there she was…..his love, his life. His everything.

“Oh, Severus….” She whispered, running into his arms.

Yes, this was his life now. Love unlimited.

Notes:

Listen to the amazing Barry White and the Love Unlimited Orchestra perform Hermione and Severus’ special song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zfxZRBm3EY
Check out the real music shop in London on Rathbone Place where they met: https://www.hobgoblin.com/shops/london/
The Snapes’ wedding cake, the Chocolate Waterfall with roses (Replicated for Wizarding weddings by our own SouthernBelle):
http://www.cakecentral.com/gallery/i/1433731/chocolate-rose-wedding-cake
A photo from the anniversary celebration as it continued later on that evening: http://s1264.photobucket.com/user/poisonmaster1/media/Severus%20and%20Hermione/950472313.jpg.html?sort=6&o=359