Severus stood before the mirror, practicing his delivery.
“Hermione, I'm here to beg your forgiveness... No... That’s not right, I'd never beg."
“Maybe... Hermione, after much careful reflection... No… don't want her to think I put that much effort into it.”
How can I make up with her without completely humiliating myself?
He cleared his throat. “My dear, it seems there may be some validity to your theory, after all...” Some validity? Shit! She'd proven him completely, utterly, humiliatingly wrong. Why had he sneered at her hypothesis? So sure that he was right, so unwilling to listen to new ideas.
“Let's try this again,” he muttered. “Hermione, it was wrong of me to belittle your research. I should have listened to your reasoning before passing judgment. But it was so far beyond the norm... outside everything I've been taught...” Shit! Now I am making excuses for my rude, judgmental attitude.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed heavily. “Why can't I just say... Hermione, I was wrong, and I'm sorry.”
Hearing a sound behind him, he saw the reflection of his lovely wife and partner, arms crossed standing in the doorway, smiling.
“That works for me, love,” she responded.
Seconds later she was wrapped tightly in his embrace.
“Why was that so difficult for you to say?”
“I don't know. I guess I'm not good at admitting I might have been wrong about something.”
“Might have been?”
“Oh, all right! I was wrong, and you were right. There, I’ve said it again; are you happy now?”
“Yes, very. Is this where we get to have hot, wild, sweaty, make-up sex?”
He paused, gazing into her face. “What? There's sex involved?”
“Oh yes! Make-up sex. I hear it's the best.”
“Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?”