Greetings and Salutations!

Here is another little bit of fluffy goodness that the Hufflepuff in me decided needed to be written. My Coven has been dosing me with fae sprinkles that taste like strawberries and oranges and keeps me well stocked in 'Puff Pills' to insure that evil Dash stays buried until my next dark fic and they get all the sugary, fluffy happiness I can manage to write. My poor Slytherin is drowning in gooey goodness and she is thoroughly un-happy!

Hope you all enjoy this little drabble I had come to mind and take over. I must go try to do more of my Dramione now before Clawzer kills me!

*Throws story at you and runs off before Candy Claw can sniff me out and drag me back to my chains and the pages of her promised story*

Always

~Tempest

PS: I rated this M for innuendos and possible later scenes as I can add to this any time with snippets of their life.

Hermione woke to the gentle pull of a tiny hand on the sleeve of her night shirt. She didn't need to open her eyes...she already knew who it was and what they wanted. Wanting just a few more minutes of sleep, she pretended not to feel it and just like she knew would happen, that tiny hand attached to a tiny arm reached up to gently touch her face. With the reflexes of a war veteran, Hermione wrapped her arms around the little bundle of energy and dragged her into the bed and under the covers with her.

The squeal of delight that accompanied the empty protests made Hermione smile and as she snuggled into her daughter she couldn't help but be thankful to be here to hold her this morning and every morning since she had been born. She was a gift to her, a miracle she never thought she would have and one she would never take for granted.

After the war, her and Ron had given it a go and for a while they had been happy...well a while is relative they say. It lasted about three months before Molly Weasley had started to pressure them all to have children. The Ministry was talking about population declines due to the war and that the citizens needed to start bringing new magical children into the world. They were offering a nice amount for every child born over the next five years and Molly was determined her children would do their part and get their gold at the same time.

Hermione had not wanted to have a bushel full of children and had openly voiced her reasons to her boyfriend and his over bearing mother. The cold shoulder had followed and along with that came the snide remarks about a witch not knowing her place and what she was supposed to contribute to a wizard or the community. Feed up with Ron not standing up for her, Hermione had packed all of her things and left the burrow.

Using what little money she had after the reparation paid to Gringott's, Hermione got a room at the Three Broom Sticks. The very next day she had gone to St. Mungo's and applied for the blood replenishing program. The Ministry had noticed not only the lack of births but the loss of magical blood and bloodlines through the generation. In hopes of rectifying the situation, young witches were asked to come in and volunteer to be a mother to a bloodline that had been lost to their world.

In doing so, after conception and carrying the child to full term, the mother was given a portion of the bloodlines inheritance for her contribution to the dwindling or extinct family line. The more children she had for that bloodline, the more money she stood to gain. Of course Hermione was not in it just for the money or she would have had at least three. She wanted to help replenish the magical world after Voldemort almost destroyed it and she wanted to help in any way the Ministry deemed useful...but she did not want to be overrun or overwhelmed by too many children at once.

After she had filled out all the paper work and been given every available test, she had been pulled into a room with one of the specialist healers on staff. They had explained the entire process and how she would know within a few days if the first procedure had taken. She had a little damage from the dark magic that had been used on her that it might cause some touch and go but Healer Clawse had not been too overly worried about it.

After, she had been told that she could either do a random draw and see who she picked, or she could go through the book they had put together and see if one family appealed to her more than the other. She had asked to see the book and she was given a comfortable room to relax in as she looked through it. There had been several possible choices she had written down when she had turned the page and come face to face with someone she thought never to see again...Professor Snape.

She read over the Prince family line several times and was amazed that not only were they unimaginably rich so her child would want for nothing his or her entire life but every member recorded had gotten at least seven NEWTs while attending their chosen schools and had a seat on the Wizengamot until Eileen Prince, Professor Snape's mother, had run off with a muggle instead of marrying her chosen betrothed...one Lord Russel Goyle...Hermione almost couldn't blame her.

Turning the page to continue, she had only gotten two more families in before she turned back and just stared at the severe face of her former Potions Professor. He had always been so stern. He gave very little in the idea of affection or praise but his mind had been brilliant and she had been in awe of it her entire time at Hogwarts. When he had killed Dumbledore in their sixth year, she had been devastated to think she had been so wrong about him. Of course that had all changed again when he had shown Harry his memories.

They had gone back for his body only to find scorch marks and ash left. They were all pretty sure a Death Eater had come back after Harry proclaimed Snape as always being Dumbledore's man and burned his body to ash to make sure he was not able to be buried next to his mentor. Realizing it didn't matter how many more she read, Hermione closed the book and summoned the healer. After announcing her chose, the healer had not even blinked but had gotten the necessary paper work filed.

As a last precaution she had made sure the 'specimen' was Severus Snape's and Healer Clawse had assured her that he had been the last of the Prince line and the only one alive when they had started rounding up new batches for their archives. It turned out magical 'sperm' banks did not last as long as muggle and due to all the magic used they were unable to switch to the muggle way. One stray spell and all would be lost.

A week later she had gone in for her first insemination appointment and had walked out hopeful. Just as Healer Clawse had anticipated, she had conceived right away and once the healer had learned she was staying at an Inn, she had taken her to a nice cottage on the outskirts of a small wizarding town about a day from Hogsmeade and had let her rent it for a really decent price. Hermione had gotten a job at the local book store and had spent her days eating, exercising, trying to be as healthy as possible, and reading any book she could get her hands on for her own pleasure.

Ron and Harry had found her there six months later and after realizing what they were seeing, Ron had blown his supposedly 'I forgive you' persona right to hell. He had yelled and berated her until Harry had to step in to keep him from trying to hex her. Of course the shop owner had been only a few steps behind them and she was a very old and fierce witch who had seen several wars in her home land as well before moving to England. Hermione almost wished he had pulled his wand. She knew Madam Shaecia would have had them both hexed and trussed up for the local Aurors before they could have uttered a single syllable to a spell.

Finally losing her own temper, Hermione had reminded Ron in a very cold manner that she had not been opposed to the idea...only the amount of children his mother and he were trying to push her to have. She had not been ready for a family so large and hadn't been sure if she ever would be. He had not even tried to understand her point of view and had sided and then attacked her alongside his bitch of a mother. The shock on Harry's face proved they had kept that bit of information from her and with a sour look he had turned on Ron.

The last she had seen them, Harry had been firing hexes as they both ran down the street, Ron trying to dodge as many as he could to reach a safe distance to port key home. She had not seen Ron again and had only seen Harry twice since that moment. Of course Ron had opened his big, fat mouth and she was soon surrounded all the time by reports from the Daily Prophet and other less known publications trying to find out who the lucky father was, was she planning to get married, and once they knew she was not and that she had gone to St. Mungo's, they wanted to know what family she had chosen to save.

She told them nothing more and after a while they got tired of her practiced silence...or maybe just got bored. She didn't know and didn't care. Alone again she went right back to her original routine and right up to her due date she stayed round and glowing. The kismet of it all was that her daughter, Obsidian Sevora Prince had been born a healthy 7lbs, 4ozs on May 2, 1999...the exact same day one year later that her own father had died. She was a sweet baby who had given Hermione very little trouble at all.

As she grew, her hair had turned to the same midnight black as her father's and due to his genetics her hair had been soft ringlets instead of frizzy, tight curls. Her eyes had slowly changed from the sparkling blue she had been born with to a brown so dark it matched her first name...again just like her father's. The shape of her face, her features though, were very much her mother's. She had a bright smile, a pert little button nose, and sadly as they started to come in the same little buck teeth. Thankfully Hermione knew there was a spell to fix that once she was older.

Sevora...what Hermione preferred to call her leaving her more formal name for more formal occasions, was an inquisitive child. Once she began to walk she wanted to see and touch, taste and smell, and know about every single little thing. Hermione found her constant questions endearing at times and utterly frustrating at others and would catch herself looking up to the sky on many an occasions to lament with Severus that she now understood his irritation with her endlessly waving hand.

The Prince family had been unreasonably wealthy and she had not really bothered to look at the exact amount of compensation she would be given per child. When the goblins at Gringotts had asked her to come in to sigh papers for the transfer she had almost fainted at the amount of zeros following the one. Hermione was one of the richest if not richest non-pureblood, single mothers in the history of ever in Wizarding Britain. Not only did Sevora not have to worry about her future...neither did Hermione. Though sitting idle really was not her thing.

She ended up buying the cottage from Healer Clawse for twice the value just to get the healer to sell it. She had also managed on Sevora's second birthday to buy her the bookstore as a future investment and because she adored the place. Madam Shaecia had pretended to hum and haw at her about selling it but ultimately had happily signed it over to Sevora with Hermione as the care taker until the little girl was old enough to take possession of it herself.

Just as she knew would happen, her world had been turned upside down again when the prophet...specifically Rita fucking Skeeter...had managed to bribe the right nurse at St. Mungo's for the information on her daughter's patronage. Once again her and Sevora were overrun by reporters who wanted to know why she had chosen the Prince family, did she have some secret torrid love affair with her ex-professor seeing as she was a muggleborn as well, was it all about the money?

In the end she had gotten a lawyer and had sued not only the Prophet for invasion into matters that were private but she had an investigation done and as soon as the culprit was found, she had ruined the girl's life. No one disrupted or ruined her daughter's days and the moment one flash had made her sweet baby cry...Hermione had shown everyone why she had been a Lion and not a Raven.

That had been a little over a year ago. Her daughter was now a very vibrant and still unfailing little know-it-all and though their lives were much more peaceful from outsiders...there was not a day the little girl did not fill her hours with chatter and questions. The only times Hermione had that were ever quiet were when she was eating, sleeping, or if she was listening to Hermione read a story or telling her a story about her father.

As far as Sevora was concerned...her father was better and more important than Merlin himself. Hermione had gotten the picture from the hospital and now had it framed and sitting beside her daughter's bed so she had a memento of what her father looked like as well. When she thought no one was looking she would scrunch up her face and try to look stern and severe the way Severus used to. It always brought a pang to her heart.

Thinking of her daughter seemed to bring the little monster back to life as she finally pulled away from her mother's arms and flew out from under the covers like a tornado. Jumping up and down she began to hum the theme music to the Powerpuff Girls, her new favorite show at the moment. Hermione pulled her head from her past musings and smiled up at her raven haired daughter. Knowing she had gotten all the sleep she was going to be allowed to have, she sat up, rubbed her eyes, and swung her feet over the side of the bed.

With a very loud 'YAY' that made Hermione wince, her daughter jumped off her bed and ran down the hall, her persona of the lead Powerpuff girl fully in play. Her robe, which Hermione had charmed to billow 'just like daddy's did', flapped behind her in the same manner as when her Professor would be moving quickly to get somewhere. Her amusement rose at that, remembering the first time Harry had seen Sevora turn and walk away and gapped at Hermione for it.

"She billows like he did. You helped her billow like he did Hermione!"

Her laugh had brought Sevora peeking out of her room and Hermione looked back at her daughter with a kindred bit of mischief.

"Uncle Harry says you billow just like your father did."

Her little girl had stood to her full height, crossed her arms one over the other very pointedly and looked down her nose as best she could while having to look up at her favorite uncle.

"Ob-viously."

That one word had sent Hermione into a giggle fit that had lasted almost ten minutes as Harry had first gapped with wide eyes at her at the time two year old daughter and then broken into helpless laughter himself. Sevora had given a very pleased with herself smile and had gone back into her play room to continue with whatever game she had going that day.

Shaking her head again as she padded down the stairs to get a cup of coffee, Hermione peeked into the playroom to see Sevora setting up her dolls for another grand adventure of Princepuff girls to the rescue. She was pretty sure that Severus was hexing her liberally from whatever afterlife wizards went to for his only daughter going by anything with Puff in the name.

Taking her first sip she had to press her lips closed as a knock on her front door startled her. Tiny little footsteps ran down the hall and sliding the cup to the counter, not caring if it made a mess, Hermione went through the other door into the living room and caught her little menace up off the ground by the waist as she tried to reach for the door.

"What have I told you about answering the door Sevora?"

"It might be a stranger and strangers are not safe so I should not answer the door without you being with me when I do."

Reaching for the door handle, her wards telling her that there was no threat coming off of whoever was at her front door, she met her daughter's eyes.

"Then why were you running for the door?"

Her daughter pouted up at her, the shine of crocodile tears beginning to build in her eyes. Pulling the door slowly open, her eyes still focused on her little girl, Hermione did not notice the darkly dressed figure whose own eyes widen in shock at the sight before him.

"You will stop that this instant Obsidian Sevora Prince. I swear its genetic...you get more and more like your Slytherin father every day!"

"I hope you are not attempting to turn my only daughter into a rash and impulsive Gryffindor Miss Granger."

The shock was like ice water and with reflexes she thought she had let go of over the years Hermione had Sevora down and behind the magically shielded door, the code word for danger falling from lips and her daughter's tiny feet taking off in the opposite direction as she summoned her wand to her hand and had it pointed at the imposters face, her own face burning in seething rage.

"I don't know who you are or what you think you are doing but trying to impersonate Severus Snape was your first mistake. The second was showing up on my doorstep."

His hands held out to the side in a placating manner the Snape imposter let his eyes run down her half covered body, his eyebrow raising in appreciation of the view before he met her furious eyes again.

"In your third year at Hogwarts you followed Sirius Black in his animagus form into the tunnel at the base of the Whomping Willow. I followed behind trying to catch him and you and Potter knocked me unconscious to help him escape...or at least try to. I also stepped in front of you to try to protect you all from the werewolf form of Remus Lupin. I supposedly died in the boat house on the night of the final battle by a slice of Voldemorts magic to the throat and then bites from Nagini. I gave Potter my memories so he knew that he was expected to die because he was a horcrux...an accidental one."

"I also know the three of you came back to get my body only to find ashes...ashes I left after I killed the Death Eater who did in fact try to attack me as I was healing myself. The two dunderheads left without much thought but you kneeled down to say a pray and you found the item I left buried in the ashes...my grandfather's ring...an heirloom that you at this very moment are wearing around your neck for safe keeping I am assuming for our daughter."

Crossing his arms in that pointed way of his he raised his eyebrow again in a more sarcastic manner.

"Do I pass your tests Miss Granger or would you like me to take some truth serum too so that you are completely convinced."

She felt the blood leave her head and the last thing she saw before the world went black was his startled eyes and his arms reaching to try to catch her.