"You can't possibly imagine how much I love you." He whispered the words she'd said to him first every year for the last five years. In his arms she stiffened, pulling back to look up at him with anguished eyes. She had just remembered. Her mouth opened to apologise.
Snape shook his head, placing a long finger over her lips. "I would marry you all over again, Hermione."
He did it because it would make her cry tears of joy, and he could kiss them away."
-melisande88
It was just like any other day. Every other day. Nothing different, nothing new. Except...she'd never forgotten before.
Five years, without a miss, or even a delay.
Year six started out differently. Snape looked at himself in the mirror as he dressed, buttoning his waistcoat one-off and having to go back. She was long gone, early riser that she was. By now, she would be walking the wards at St. Mungo's, seeing the new patients from the weekend. November second. Never the best of times to be a healer, in the wizarding world, at least. Halloween always brought a rash of patients injured by misfired curses, poorly executed spells, potions gone bad, and werewolf bites when Halloween occurred at the full moon.
And this year, Halloween had been celebrated over the weekend during a full moon. The wards at St. Mungo's were likely to be full, with that double whammy. It would probably be a very long day for his wife.
He looked into his own eyes.
"It's just a day like any other, Snape," he informed himself sternly.
Except, it wasn't. The second of November was their wedding anniversary. Six years ago today they'd wakened for the last time in separate beds. Every morning since then, except the two weeks that the wizarding world had fought Voldemort to the finish all over Britain, they had awakened in the same bed, sometimes on the same pillow, often tangled in what she laughingly called their Gordian Knot.
Always before on this special day, she had wakened him early, well before dawn, whispering in his ear how much she loved him, how she would marry him all over again. Then she would dive under the blankets and teasingly spell away his silk boxers in the darkness before she pounced on her favourite toy, known as "Little Severus." This morning, when he was wakened by the bullfrog alarm on the night table, his first thought was that she must be in the bath, so he settled back to wait for her, banishing his own boxers, blanket tenting prominently at hip level. When she didn't emerge, he wandered into the bath, and showered alone. When he finally admitted to himself that she'd forgotten their wedding anniversary, he was more than peeved, and flung his sopping wet bath towel over the head of the helpful house elf who had arrived with coffee.
He did it because she wouldn't have liked it.
At lunch he Floo'ed her office and was told by her officious assistant that Healer Snape was unusually busy on the wards and could not come to the fireplace, but he would be pleased to take a message for the Professor. Snape snarled at the little wizard and replied, "No message. No -- wait. Tell her -- tell her --" He stopped. He'd been about to say, weak-willed, lovelorn Slytherin sheep that he was, "Tell her I love her, and I'd marry her all over again." And instead, feeling a peculiar void opening inside himself, he said: "Tell Madame Snape there's no need to rush home. I'll dine without her." Afterward, he heaved his luncheon plate, still half full of mashed potatoes and gravy, directly at the house elf who had come to his office to collect it.
He did it because she would have yelled at him for it.
At tea time he Floo'ed her office again, feeling like a fool when the assistant smiled sympathetically and babbled something about an outbreak of Frothing Friskies that had infected an entire clan of leprechauns. Before the man could ask to take a message, Snape closed down the Floo connection. He pointed his wand bad-temperedly at a rack of first years' potions samples and exploded them all one by one, causing the Happiness Draughts inside them to run over the work table and make the wood grain grin widely in multiple places. This allowed several empty beakers and a pile of ungrated marshmallow root to fall through onto the stone floor. The beakers shattered like bombs. It was refreshing.
He did it because she would have glared at him and made him tidy up after his tantrum.
After dinner he stalked back to their rooms and slammed down the wards, entered, and slammed them back up. He thought of changing all the passwords just to make a point, but when she came home, if she came home, it would be via Floo from St. Mungo's and his efforts would be wasted. He made his own anniversary plans with a bottle of single malt that was in the liquor cabinet.
Snape had just poured himself a second drink and was settling in his armchair with Ars Alchemica when he heard a disturbance in the fireplace. His wife was home, shaking soot from her robe and hair.
"Merlin's hairy left nostril! Does everyone in the wizarding world become an idiot simply because it's Halloween and the moon is full? You should see the drool stains on my robe, and the scratches on my hands, Severus. Three new werewolves this year, and none of them nearly as reasonable as Remus. Sixteen curses broken before lunch, and patients streaming in all day, thinking they've been irretrievably hexed, when what they are is hung-over from mixing too much pumpkin and onion ale with firewhiskey and nonsense from Honeydukes."
Snape remembered whole weeks like that, from back in the day with good old Red Eyes. He closed his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest a bit, and then swelled. She had forgotten their anniversary, but she was home at last. He went to her, wordlessly holding out the glass of single malt, which she tossed back without flinching. Despite himself he was impressed. Her mouth was hard when she looked at him, but her eyes were miserably tired. When he held out his arms, she fell into them so heavily that he staggered before shifting his feet and finding his balance. She was getting soot on him, but it didn't matter.
"You can't possibly imagine how much I love you." He whispered the words she'd said to him first every year for the last five years. In his arms she stiffened, pulling back to look up at him with anguished eyes. She had just remembered. Her mouth opened to apologise.
Snape shook his head, placing a long finger over her lips. "I would marry you all over again, Hermione."
He did it because it would make her cry tears of joy, and he could kiss them away.
I teared up.
I want someone
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