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"You know, Severus, when I said I wanted to visit California, I didn't mean that I wanted to go just as winter is nearly underway," Hermione grumbled, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck as they entered the departures area of the airport.
"It'll still be warmer than Scotland on a summer day," he quipped.
Hermione snorted and doubled her pace.
Even though it was nearing the end of the second week of November and they'd purposefully chosen a red-eye flight, the entire place was bustling with activity, and Hermione heard more than a few American accents as she followed Severus' purposeful stride to their gate. He had his scarf up over his nose, as though afraid of being recognized, and perhaps those fears were a bit more founded than normal.
It hadn't been an easy year. He'd eventually healed from his coma a few years after the Final Battle, but the quiet life he'd led the decade following his convalescence had suited him until something he couldn't ignore had gone awry. Harry had been the one to come calling in favours to save the Wizarding World when a lethal new form of Dragon Pox had begun to spread through the Wizarding population. Hermione had been working as Junior Head Potions Master in the St Mungo's research pharmacy when everything had gone from bad to worse, and it had been her team that had been able to synthesize a mass batch of the tincture Severus had finally isolated for max effectiveness to release in time to save thousands of lives.
Severus, whom many had considered dead and gone, had been dragged unwillingly into the limelight by a shortsighted but grateful Harry, who'd just wanted the man to get the recognition he deserved, especially after his eldest son made a full recovery. But instead, it had caused a scandal that had led to the poor man hiding out in Hermione's spare back room because no one would ever connect the two of them.
A year and a handful of leaked elopement photos later (Neville was still in Friend Time Out for leaving said photos where his nosy cousin could find them and leak them to the Daily Prophet), and Hermione had enough.
"We need a vacation," she had groused, pacing back and forth in front of their plush couch as Crookshanks sat contentedly on Severus' lap receiving plenty of scritches.
"My owl-order apothecary can open or close at my own whims," Severus had replied with a shrug. "Which means that it falls to you to set the time frame."
For some reason, this had irritated Hermione even more than if he had shot her down outright. She made a low noise in her throat.
Severus gave her a knowing look. "Not enough vacation time on the books?"
"That's not the problem, and you know it," she grumbled.
"Not enough staff? Holidays coming up? A dreaded rise in Layabout-itis in the office?"
At the last one, Hermione's shoulders dropped and she let out a snort. "No. None of that and you know it. It's just…It's just that—"
Severus gently patted Crookshanks, who stood and strutted away from his lap-bed with a flourish of his tail as though affronted at being asked to move. In one smooth movement between one blink and the next, Severus had not only risen from the couch, but he stopped Hermione pacing in her tracks, his face mere inches away from hers as he loomed over her. Two inches of dragonhide boot sole made their height difference even more pronounced, and Hermione found herself swallowing thickly out of habit. She loved this man to death and possibly beyond, but he could be intense when he wanted to be. It was both terrifying and more than a little titillating.
"Tell me," he said, and his voice was so whisper-soft that she became extremely aware of the sensation of his warm breath against her cheeks and nose.
"Fine!" she whispered back, throwing up her arms. It didn't release all of her frustrated energy, but it was a start. "It's because I am a bloody perfectionist and nothing anyone does while I'm away will make me happy when I return. I just can't LET GO and the thought of doing so drives me around the bend! There, happy?"
"Most assuredly," he replied, giving her the special grin he only ever let her see.
Hermione had begun to wind up to release a follow-up tirade, but she went still at the sensation of his warm lips against her forehead.
"You sentimental idiot," she said, but she was already grasping at his robes.
"Such emotional maturity. Yet another reason why I love you so," he countered, letting her push him back onto the couch.
Her lips sought his, then, and all thoughts of further discussion vanished in favor of more delightful diversions.
"Paying a premium for leg room was worth it," Hermione said, swinging her legs back and forth in her first-class seat.
"Don't rub it in," Severus grumbled, his knees up at a slightly uncomfortable angle to accommodate his boots. "Now, if you don't mind, I will be sleeping for ten hours. Please do not wake me unless the plane is falling from the sky or they are serving tasty American snacks."
Hermione snickered as he placed headphones and a face mask over his eyes. He'd rigged it with a clever spell to create a localized Muffliato charm and encourage sleepy thoughts.
"I am definitely eating your snacks," she whispered with a mischievous smirk.
"I heard that, Hermione," he said, and took her hand in his as she tapped into her book app to read one of her many backlog titles.
"I know," she said, squeezing back. "I was counting on it."
"Are you sure it's supposed to be this cold and foggy?" Hermione had ditched her colder weather clothes for a parsley coloured jumper and jeans, but she still needed her scarf as they explored the pathway that snaked parallel to the picturesque Monterey beachscape.
They had been told that when it was sunny, it was possible to see all the way across Monterey Bay, but Hermione could only see the fuzzy gray sky and silvery waves. Tiny droplets of mist caught in her eyelashes as they walked.
"Personally, I find it rather comfortable," Severus replied with a shrug.
He wore a light Muggle sweater with a turtleneck and a pair of black, boot-cut jeans that Hermione had gotten him for a birthday one year and had subsequently become part of his default outfit when he wasn't wearing his usual robes. The scarring at his throat had lightened over the years. Though he would never admit it, Severus was still fairly self-conscious and small children had few qualms with shouting out thoughtless and hurtful things when they noticed it. He was, of course, still wearing his dragon-hide boots. Hermione secretly thought he would probably wear them in the bath if he could get away with it.
They had a disgustingly expensive breakfast at Cannery Row, and enjoyed the kitschy shops before finally visiting the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Luckily, it was a weekday so it wasn't terribly crowded. They both spent a long time watching the sea otter exhibit, enjoying the playful antics of the furry creatures as they swam both above and underwater. The giant octopus was larger than either of them had expected, and changed from an orange to a dark blood red as it dreamed in one corner of its enclosure. There were thousands of little creatures in small exhibits, as well as a larger enclosure with all manner of fish slowly swimming without any cares in the world.
The soft music and sound of the water filtration lulled them both into a sense of relaxation…until they visited the stinky penguin exhibit.
"Never again," Severus said, holding his nose.
Hermione agreed.
From there, they went to view the open ocean exhibit and spent a long time in the comforting dark watching the luminescent jellies floating in their tanks.
By the time they stumbled into the late afternoon, both expected it to be completely dark, however, the unusual California coastal latitude meant that the sun was still working its way down towards dusk. If anything, it was almost summery, at least by their standards.
"Let's get you a shirt," Hermione said, pulling him into a gift shop with a giant stuffed otter on the front.
"Let's not," Severus disagreed.
In the end, he found himself leaving the shop with a shirt featuring two sea otters holding hands.
"You have to admit it's adorable," Hermione insisted.
"Last I checked, I do not have to do anything," he shot back. Seeing her sour expression, he quickly relented. "I will admit, however, that it is made of soft material and the design has its…merits."
They ate their evening meal on the pier and walked back to their hotel for some relaxation, some rest, and a little something more in between.
The next few days, they felt themselves slow down from their usual frenetic pace.
Rather than eat out for every meal, they had specifically selected a hotel room that featured a kitchenette. Most things were within walking distance and if they wished to go further afield, it wasn't too difficult for Hermione to figure out how to get the rideshare apps to work on her mobile. It was a good thing she'd bought a temporary sim card that would work while she was in the States, as Severus had little love for his own mobile device and left it at home if he could get away with it.
Everything at the grocery store seemed to be strangely split between the American holiday of Thanksgiving and the relentless march of Christmas.
"What is this Santa in November nonsense?!" Hermione fumed, looking at the large jolly display advertising some sort of blasphemous holiday drink spiked with peppermint extract and cinnamon.
"Americans," Severus replied derisively, as though this explained everything.
They were not ambitious enough to purchase a frozen turkey for the holiday, for they knew that was beyond their capabilities, but they were able to purchase groceries to tide themselves over for the next few days, including a few slices of pumpkin pie from the bakery area, and a bottle of whipped cream ("IN A SPRAY CAN?" Severus had exclaimed, unable to help himself). It was, he admitted later, delicious.
"A lot of American food is both silly and delicious," Hermione agreed, after showing him a few creative ways to use said spray confection. "I'm sure they'd probably be similarly puzzled by half of Muggle English foods, not to mention those available in the magical world.
"I still cannot believe that they don't even have a proper butterbeer," Severus said. "That cream soda concoction is vile."
"It isn't that bad," Hermione countered, having developed a bit of a taste for the stuff.
Their hotel had a small pool and a smaller hot tub, both of which turned out to be heated. After one disastrous day attempting to swim in the ocean (and a string of cursing later), the pool was just fine with Hermione. Severus preferred to wear his vacation t-shirt with the swim trunks she'd found for him (black, of course) and sit on one of the deck chairs surreptitiously watching her over the top of his book rather than swim. At first she was a bit self conscious (working overtime in the lab hadn't done a lot for her figure, after all), but it was long past tourist season and they were generally the only ones in the pool area. Ostensibly, Severus didn't mind the cellulite and saggy bits around the edges of her figure. In fact, data points gathered from their nightly activities would suggest quite the opposite. So in the end, she began to feel comfortable enough that she decided it was time for a bit of fun.
She pulled herself out of the pool very slowly, and tried shaking her head gently from side to side like she'd seen on the telly. This mostly had the effect of spraying water on Severus and his book, but she'd seen the way he'd looked at her. Then she tried out a little springy jog as she went to grab her towel and was sure to bend forward to towel her hair so she was facing away from him. This pushed her bum out enough to feel a bit obvious, so she did her best to stand up and move to the adjacent lounge chair.
"Getting a bit cold out here," Severus observed.
She glanced over to see him covering his middle with his towel, the book thrown on top for good measure.
"Oh?" she asked innocuously, feeling her own belly growing warm with anticipation.
"Oh, indeed," he replied.
They decided to stay in that evening, to both of their mutual delight.
It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving when Hermione surprised Severus with a day trip to Carmel. It wasn't too far by rideshare, so they decided to go for an early lunch and then head to the "secret spa" that Hermione had booked for them.
"So, this spa is called Refuge," Hermione said, as they came up and around the front walkway to the entrance.
It certainly looked posh inside. There was some sort of juice bar and a cozy room that looked like it would be lovely for an afternoon of uninterrupted reading.
"You have to make a reservation, you know," Hermione said, "and they assured me when I called that it shouldn't be crowded with everyone else preparing for the holiday."
"Oh?" he asked. "Still, I hope there isn't too much idle chatter."
"That's the best part," she continued. "Once we're inside, nobody is allowed to speak."
Severus gave her a look of profound relief.
They checked in and were led to separate locker rooms to change into their bathing suits and shower down.
Once they both entered the main area, they were greeted by the sight of multiple pools with different descriptions on each one from frigid to hot. There was also a sweat lodge.
Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione placed her fingers over his lips and gave him a wink.
Shhh, she mouthed.
He made a face then shrugged as if to say, You got me.
As they learned in the next few hours, however, there were plenty of ways to build tension and intimacy without saying a word. It was in small touches and looks, moments spent sitting silently in the sweltering heat as their pores emptied, or holding hands as they worked up the courage to enter one of the frigid pools together. By the time they finished their stay and met one another out front to be picked up, their bodies were humming with a sense of relaxation and need that could only be muted by their growling stomachs.
After a light dinner heavy with sexual tension, they retired to their hotel room eagerly. There were, after all, certain releases fit only for their eyes.
Thanksgiving morning, they woke up aching and hungry. It was strange to think of this holiday as a real thing that people celebrated, but the turkey decorations at the hotel front desk and the large signs all over town proclaiming that basically every store would be closed Thursday were clear enough indicators. It was a crisp day with little shafts of light peeking through the fog as it burned off early. The scents of fires burning in fireplaces and the rustling sound of autumn leaves as they walked along the now-familiar path by the ocean as it roared and hissed against the rocky beaches gave them both a sense of blissful coziness. Severus wrapped his arm around Hermione and she playfully hooked her finger around the belt loop of his jeans. It was so quiet other than the odd car with families balancing what looked like wrapped food in tin foil on their laps. There was something restful about all the closed shops plastered with bright, friendly signs proclaiming their closure for the Thanksgiving holiday to give everyone a day for families to enjoy a communal meal at home.
"I never really understood American Thanksgiving before now," Severus mused, crunching dry leaves under his boots.
"You know, I'm glad I get to spend it here. With you." Hermione pressed against his side. "They say that Thanksgiving is a day to spend with your family, and you're my family, Severus."
"And you are mine," he replied, leaning to kiss her head softly.
A cheeky wind blew Hermione's hair into his face, which caused him to splutter momentarily, but then they were both snickering and, cheeks red from cold and momentary embarrassment, they sought comfort in one another, their lips only parting as they heard a soft splash in the sea below.
Below them, two sea otters were gamboling in the surf, speaking their secret otter language.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Severus," Hermione said, at last. She felt more herself than she had in a long time.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Hermione," Severus replied, his arm holding her safe at his side.
Later, there would be reheated turkey sandwiches, and pie with a side of indulgent laughter as they sprayed whipped cream into each other's mouths. But for now, there was the scent and the sound of the sea in the autumn air, welcoming them to stay and rest for all the time in the world.