The oversized door clanged open, and Severus turned up the collar of his cloak to shield him slightly from the lashing wind and rain as he crossed the courtyard to the outer bailey. He stopped dead and tried to shield his eyes as he caught sight of a dumpy figure through the lifting portcullis.

'I will not run. It can't be her. Not going to run. She never wrote. I'm not running,' he told himself, but his feet didn't listen, and he had to duck his head to clear the bars.

Her hair had been washed into sodden curls, the ribbon tying them back a bedraggled mess, and he thought the rain on her face camouflaged tears. Her stomach bulged as if she hid a medicine ball beneath her dress. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He halted when he reached her, letting the brown paper parcel that held his personal effects drop to the causeway, and for a dozen heartbeats they just stared.

Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and she opened her mouth as if to speak.

He plunged his hands into the curls at either side of her head and covered her lips with his own before she could get the words out. In contrast to his grip, the first touch of his lips to hers was tentative. He wanted to believe that her presence there meant she had waited for him, but he wouldn't be the first man leaving Azkaban to be told he was no longer wanted.

Her lips were cold and she trembled in his grip, but he had no idea whether it was cold or anticipation, until her arms reached out for him. She grabbed his collar, holding him down to her, where once she would have stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The swell of her stomach made his stance awkward, having had no opportunity to grow gradually accustomed to it. Regardless, he deepened the kiss, moaning as her tongue followed his back into his mouth. Finally, when he was as wet as she, he straightened, though his hands still framed her face.

"When is it due?" he asked, raising his voice to make himself heard over the wind.

"Next week." A frown of consternation marred her pretty features. "Didn't you get my letters? I wrote every day."

Severus felt as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders.

"It seems they went astray."

She reached into a pocket, extracting a slender rod of darkly coloured wood. "I kept it safe."

Severus ran one hand through her hair, capturing the primrose ribbon while his other hand came to rest on her distended abdomen. "You did," he sighed. Then he kissed her again before he took his wand from her hand.

Hermione placed her hand over the one which held the ribbon. 'Portus!' she incanted.

Severus pulled Hermione to him, planting his feet wide to prevent either of them from stumbling as they landed. When the after effects of the Portkey light faded from his vision, Severus found himself in a garden edged with fruit trees. Winding around and between all the trunks was the longest yellow ribbon he had ever seen. The foliage was wet, and the sky was predominately grey, but in one place the sun shone through and there was a rainbow in the sky over the mountains that formed the horizon.

Hermione turned so that she looked out on the same vista, and he let his hands rest where their unborn child kicked within her, as she whispered, "Welcome home."