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Ever since he was a boy, Severus had been fascinated with bees; from their black and yellow striped bodies and gossamer wings to their gentle buzzing as they flitted from flower to flower collecting pollen that would soon become delicious tasting honey. Now that he was an adult and no longer had to transform himself to satisfy two power-hungry masters, Severus had bought himself his first hive.
Dressed head to toe in protective clothing and a thin net covering his face, Severus approached his buzzing hive with a smoker in hand. He’d spent months reading up on the subject of beekeeping and had found that although there were plenty of spells and charms to assist him, he preferred the Muggle method. It brought him closer to the bees, and it stopped the honey from having that sharp tang of magic. He watched carefully as the bees’ buzzing dulled until they were sleeping gently.
Lifting the lid off his hive, and withdrawing one of the combs, Severus pulled a clean jar out of his pocket and began scraping off a little honeycomb. As soon as his knife made contact with the soft wax, the dam broke and rich golden honey began oozing out, filling the jar. Once full, Severus screwed on the lid and replaced the comb. With a satisfied smile on his face, Severus returned to the house pulling his hat off in the process. Setting the jar of fresh honey on the table, he sent his protective clothing back to the box he stored them in and headed up the stairs.
It was still early. The sun had barely been up for an hour as he tiptoed into the bedroom to see his wife of five years curled up on his side of the bed, arms wrapped around his pillow. She’d obviously been searching for him and had settled the moment she caught his scent in the cotton pillowcase. Crouching beside her, Severus watched her sleep for a few minutes taking joy in the way her nose was scrunched up in frustration. He reached out and stroked her sleep mussed curls drawing her out of sleep. He met rich honey-coloured eyes that brightened at the sight of him and made his heart soar in happiness. If anyone had told him that seven years ago he would have fallen in love with Hermione Granger he would have bought them a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungos. In fact, he would have taken them there himself.
“Good morning,” Severus said as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Is it? I feel like I’ve barely slept,” Hermione replied with a loud yawn, pushing the covers off as she sat up on the side of the bed.
“Go back to sleep then,” Severus replied despite knowing that if he hadn’t woken her, he would have been hexed into next week.
“There’s no point. Your child has decided to have a party on my bladder,” Hermione said with a grimace as she got to her feet and padded over to the bathroom.
A rare smile appeared on his face as he left her to ablutions and headed back downstairs. He filled a copper kettle with water and set it to boil. Getting out her favourite mug, and setting some homemade bread to toast, Severus inspected the honey he’d collected. Holding it up to the golden light that was streaming in through the kitchen window, he checked the colour. It shone like freshly polished gold. The comb was a soft buttery yellow and had little discolouration. The moment he twisted off the lid and stuck a finger into the sticky substance was when Hermione appeared wrapped in a cotton dressing gown that highlighted her pregnant stomach.
“Honestly Severus, you have an addiction,” Hermione said with a gentle laugh, as she took the whistling kettle off the hob and poured the boiling water into a plain brown teapot before spooning loose tea leaves on top. Swirling the spoon in the hot water, she set it aside to brew.
“The first jar of the season,” Severus said, looking a bit like a child who’d been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.
He licked the honey off his finger, eyes fluttering shut as the sweet, floral substance exploded across his taste buds. Severus had never been one for sweets but when it came to honey, he just couldn’t get enough. It reminded him of his mother, and of the sticky, sweet sandwiches he’d send him off to school with. It might not have come from their garden, but it was still special to him.
“I still think it odd that you insisted we keep bees. I would have thought you’d steer clear of them considering your allergy,” Hermione commented as she carefully shooed one of her husband’s precious bees towards an open window.
“Bees are an essential part of our ecosystem. Without them, the Human Race would perish. I’m protecting our child’s future. Plus, I’ve always wanted them. Growing up in Cokeworth, you’d be lucky to see a bee, and when you did they’d be dead within seconds," Severus expressed passionately, spreading his collected golden treasure on his toast.
“I understand, love. Just don’t forget to take your EpiPen with you,” Hermione said, fishing the orange tube out of a kitchen drawer, slipping it into the pocket of his waistcoat.
“Yes dear,” Severus said placating her, as he helped her into a kitchen chair and placed a cup of tea in front of her.
~*~
Severus might not have been the best at Herbology in his time at Hogwarts but there was something soothing and satisfying about getting your hands dirty. It didn’t help clear his head the way Potions did but it was the next best thing, especially with the warmth of the sun bearing down on his dark head. His hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and yet a few tendrils had broken loose to frame his chiselled face.
He paused to itch his cheek with the back of his hand and looked towards Hermione who was lying on a sunlounger reading. Though from the relaxed position of her hand, Severus had an inkling that Hermione had fallen asleep. Severus rose to his feet and wandered over. He gently pulled the book out of her grasp and laid it next to her in the grass before gently kissing her forehead.
Returning to his weeding, Severus spent the next couple of hours preparing the damp soil for the new wildflower meadow he was intending to grow. Keeping his bees fed and watered had been a struggle last winter. He’d spent so much on sugar that he’d had to deal with an irate Poppy Pomfrey turning up at his door lecturing him on the dangers of excessive sugar intake for a man of his age. A man of his age, indeed! Reaching into the trug at his side, he pulled out a packet of wildflower seeds and scattered them over the earth before watering them carefully with his wand.
Severus stood, wincing as his knees cracked in protest and stretched. He watched the bees flying around the garden, smiling when a few landed gently upon his person. When he'd been stung the first time, Severus had sworn never to go near a bee again. The fear of death had been overwhelming. Then he'd fallen in with the Dark Lord and realised there were far scarier beings in the world than bees.
~*~
Later that night after a much needed shower, Severus was surprised to find Hermione was nowhere to be found. After searching the house, he discovered her wandering about the garden with a halo of bees surrounding her like workers to their queen. He could see her mouth moving but couldn't make out what she was saying.
Her hand was resting gently on her growing stomach with the soft light of the rising moon illuminating her face. How had he, a man so set in his ways, who held everyone at arm's length, ended up with a woman like her? She was quite simply the light of his life. For years, he'd believed himself in love with Lily Evans but realised that he had no idea what love was until Hermione interjected herself into his life.
Stepping out of the shadows, he joined her barefoot in the grass and wrapped his arm around her. With a soft flourish of his wand, gentle classical music flooded the garden. Looking up, Severus smiled as the bees moved in time with the music.
Taking her hand in his, he and Hermione joined their treasured insects, swaying back and forth. He spun her around in a lazy circle enjoying the way her face erupted in joy. Pulling her close, Severus dipped his head and kissed her soundly. She tasted of magic and the sweetest of honey, and it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. Pure and sweet and all his.