A/N: Well, here we come to the end of what is probably the fluffiest fic I will ever write. I really hope you have enjoyed this brief departure from the usual. I have to give credit to two readers who inspired parts of this chapter.

KIT-10 not K-9 for the Boggart's wonderful name, and Fbunf for what is, without a doubt, the funniest review I have ever received. I repurposed a line from the review in this chapter. I think you'll work out which one it is. Severus enjoyed it too :).

I'll be back again soon as I have a new idea brewing away already. Thank you again so much for your kind reviews, despite the fact that I have not always been that great at responding. Your words make all the difference to me managing to find time, often late at night, to write - so I can't thank you enough. Until next time, love to you all, DSxx

Hermione woke with downy hairs and soft skin against her cheek. It took her a moment to realise that they weren't her own, belonging instead to the incredibly comfortable hunk of wizard beneath her—the one she had apparently fallen asleep on after relocating to her bedroom and engaging in two more bouts of delicious, pussy-pounding sex during the night.

Nuzzling her way up his neck, she pressed sleepy kisses against his jaw until his head turned so that she could sample his deliciously sensuous lips once again.

Suddenly a thought broke through the fog of sexy memories and she pulled away from his mouth to voice it, "What did you do with Humphrey?"

Snape blinked in puzzlement, frowning down his nose at her.

"The Boggart," she added, realising that she had used her pet name for him.

He snorted in amusement before lifting a stray tendril of her hair with one finger and tucking it behind her ear.

"He's safely locked away. In my wardrobe."

"Your wardrobe?"

"Mmmm."

"In your room?"

"That is generally where one keeps one's wardrobe."

Hermione's lips curled in to a mischievous smile. "Perhaps you and I and Humphrey could become better acquainted sometime . . . in your room?"

His finger trailed down her cheek as he looked at her with curiosity. "Do you really consider it wise to be intimate with a Boggart?"

She shrugged. "Not wise perhaps . . . but it was still rather . . . exhilarating. Although not nearly as exhilarating as the real thing." She looked at him shyly from under her lashes.

His mouth lifted at the corners as the tip of his finger brushed her lips.

"And I'd take precautions," she added.

"Precautions?"

"Well I would hardly want to fall pregnant to a Boggart, would I?" She grinned. "Can you imagine the look on the mediwitch's face when her worst fear emerged from my vagina?"

Snape laughed then. It was a sound she'd never heard before but it seemed to come surprisingly easily. Deep and rolling, it filled her with warmth, especially when his arms tightened around her as though he considered her special—precious even. She laughed too, her trill over his bass so natural that her heart soared as they shook together, until she collapsed upon him with a satisfied sigh.

He continued to embrace her throughout the comfortable aftermath, his firm grip suggesting that he had no intention of letting her go. And as she lay there, riding the gentle cadence of each breath, she considered the jumble of thoughts that had started churning about in her head.

"Why do you think he did it?" she asked finally, her words muffled a little by his chest against her lips. "Why did Professor Lupin choose to bond you to a Boggart? Was it a wind-up do you think? Some sort of prank?"

Snape paused a moment before answering. "Perhaps he chose a Boggart because, as a non-being, it is essentially immortal."

"True," Hermione responded thoughtfully. "I prefer that explanation."

"I prefer yours," he said.

She looked up then and saw the truth of it in his eyes. He had definitely changed. This was a different man to the one she had grown up with. The bitterness was gone, and he clearly wasn't looking to waste his second chance at life on old grudges.

"Whatever his reason. I'm pleased he did it," she murmured, pushing her way up his body until her lips were hovering above his. "And I'm glad that I was present at the right time to become . . . entangled."

"As am I," he responded, warm sparks flaring in his eyes once again. "I am indebted to him . . . for both."

Hermione sank down then, her lips gently capturing his, her mind setting sail on a blissful tide of joy, both losing and finding herself in him. With him. At last.

"Alright?" Neville plonked down in the seat next to her, snatching a bread roll from the basket on the table.

"Neville," Hermione hissed, grabbing him by the arm. "I've been searching everywhere. Where have you been?"

Neville bit off a chunk and spoke as he chewed, "I asked McGonagall about getting a new practice Boggart and she happened to have one in a chest in her office."

"And?"

"And I've been practising."

Hermione shook his arm in exasperation. "So tell me! What was it? What did it turn into?"

Neville gave a disgruntled shake of his head. "You wouldn't believe it. It turned into a fucking snake—into Nagini."

"Oh, shit," Hermione muttered.

"With three fucking heads! So I couldn't chop 'em off."

"Oh, fuck."

"I'll say." He took another bite.

"So what did you do?" she urged.

"Well . . . I changed it into the first thing that came to mind after spending all of that time with Snape in the buff."

Hermione's brow creased in puzzlement.

"A giant cock. With three heads."

"You didn't!" Hermione yelped.

"I did." He grinned proudly.

"And what happened then?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"McGonagall told me to leave. Something about an urgent appointment or something."

"So what happened to the three-headed cock?"

Neville raised his eyebrows knowingly. "All I can say is, the Boggarts around here are getting a hell of a lot more action than the rest of us."

"Oh no, Neville, don't," Hermione choked, before convulsing with laughter.

"Which reminds me," he continued, turning his knowing gaze on her. "Can I assume from your current 'glow' that you managed to patch things up with the other Boggart?"

Hermione had to wipe the tears of laughter from her eyes before she could reply. "That's why I was looking for you. I needed to thank you. For what you did . . . for Snape."

"So you worked it out then?"

"Yes."

"What was the give-away? You didn't touch him did you?"

"There might have been some touching," she answered with a coy smile. "But I must say, he gave as good as he got."

Neville snorted, shaking his head. "So is he going to stop being a prick to me now?"

"I doubt it."

He grinned before shoving the rest of the roll in. "That's okay. When he sees my giant three-headed cock, it's him who's going to be intimidated from now on."

They stood at the edge of the Black Lake, two dusky silhouettes watching the Shutterhawks dip and glide, an aerial love affair woven in graceful arcs over the obsidian water.

"He found her," Hermione whispered, tears of joy shimmering in her eyes.

"He did indeed." Severus slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "And I'm certain he will do everything in his power to ensure that he never loses her again."

Hermione smiled, blinking adoringly up at him before resting her head against his side. As one, they turned, and slowly started down the path toward the first hopeful rays of the rising sun.