A/N: This little short is for Story Please, who seems to have a bug in her ear that demands Severus covered in confetti with a scowl on his face. Who am I to quibble over another author's prompts? Muahahaaa.

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Glitter

Severus Snape scowled down his nose as particles of confetti and pieces of tinsel hung in his ebony hair. The corner of his mouth twisted into his customary sneer that promised so many more horrible things than death.

"Mrs. Snape," he growled, his voice low.

A certain bushy haired witch stared back at him, looking up at him with a warm smile and without fear. "Yes, my husband?"

"Perhaps you could… enlighten me as to why I am suddenly… covered in frivolity?" Severus glared down at his wife, his dark eyes were the colour of obsidian, reflecting everything.

"Do I really need a reason, my husband?" Hermione asked, her hand gently touched the side of his cheek, her finger ever so lightly traced the line of his jaw.

Severus' corner of the mouth curled upwards in a slightly more subtle sneer. "I should hope so, Madam," he said evenly as glitter rained down from his head onto her.

"Hrrm," Hermione clucked. "I was hoping I gained a pardon on today of all days, Severus."

"And why," he droned lowly, "would you…think…that… Hermione?" He extended her given name in a soft rumble.

"It's New Years," She smiled back at him with cheer in her voice and posture.

"Hnn," he grunted, his pale hand slid around the back of her neck and grasped the nape of it. "You leave me no choice, Mrs. Snape. I fear… you must pay the consequences of your gratuitous mischief."

Hermione squeaked as his cool touch grasped the back of her neck, causing her breaths to quicken with her heart. "What type of consequences?"

Severus stared into her eyes. "Seeing as how all the parchments are graded and the inventories are infuriatingly organised, I fear I must give you the worst punishment possible."

Hermione squirmed as his vice like grip tightened as he drew her closer to him. "And that is?"

Severus silenced her with a kiss, his body pressing against hers even as he drew her near to him. "Spending the rest of the evening in my saturnine company," he growled into her neck.

"Help," Hermione whispered softly into his chest.

"There will no saving you from your punishment, Mrs. Snape," Severus rumbled, guiding her down onto the nearby chaise longue and proceeded to snog his wife senseless.

A few minutes later, Molly walked by the open guest room door at the Burrow and a burst into a grin worthy of a Cheshire cat. Her grandchildren were bouncing towards her with excitement as they carried celebratory toys from the Wheezes' shop.

"Ah, Ah, no," Molly said, catching them as they ran up. "Your aunt and uncle are having private time." She herded them down the hallway as her foot moved to close the open door.

"Awwww," they chimed together. "But Auntie Hermione and Uncle Severus will miss the fireworks!"

Molly shushed them and moved them along. "Don't you worry, my dears, your Aunt and Uncle will be enjoying the fireworks just fine. Run along now. Shoo!"

Arthur met her at the bottom of the stairs with a puzzled expression on his face.

"They act like they were just married last week," Molly huffed, but her face was twisted in a knowing smile.

Arthur snickered and pulled his wife into an embrace. "Perhaps we could show them up," he said suggestively.

"Arthur!" Molly said, smacking him on the chest. "The grandchildren!"

Arthur grinned and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Righto. Proper Grandfatherly behaviour." He straightened and looked one direction then the other, then attacked Molly with a swift kiss that left Molly breathless and a shade of red that almost matched her hair as Arthur bounced down the hall to find the grandchildren.

Molly took in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked towards the living room.

When Hermione and Severus rejoined the festivities downstairs, Arthur nudged the Potion Master with his elbow, wiggling his eyebrows. Hermione flushed, hiding herself by assisting the children with covering each other with an obscene amount of confetti and streamers. Severus looked like the cat that had eaten the canary.

"How was the row?" Arthur grunted as he passed Severus a glass of something to drink.

"Well sorted," Severus answered, straight faced.

Arthur smirked, sipping his drink.

Mischief managed.