Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, plain and simple. The quotes from the Alan Rickman movie 'Truly Madly Deeply' used in the following text do not belong to me either.
A/N: This is my first step into the world of SS/HG, so comments and constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Happy holidays to all!
It was the first Christmas since their conspicuous triumph in the war. As a result, the jubilation and festivities this season were extravagantly bright and beatific. Multiplying boughs of holly and twigs of mistletoe, massive Christmas trees adorned with live, miniature cherubs, endless supplies of candy canes in every colour, and carolling elves decked in green swarmed the wizarding world like bees swarming after a half-witted bear. Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic – every one of the places were posters promoting sprightly season's greetings. The air itself was infectious with joy; every witch and wizard, hippogriff and centaur, werewolf and squib was active in spreading cheer and gifts.
The atmosphere was such in Hogwarts castle. Since the students had all flocked home for the holidays, Headmistress McGonagall was holding a Christmas party for the Order of the Phoenix and war heroes. Every one from Molly Weasley to Mad-Eye Moody to Dobby the house-elf was present. The Great Hall was decorated from roof to floor, with dozens of fluttering fairies, real reindeer, and enchanted snow decking the vast space. There were at least one hundred guests packing the Great Hall. People were slipping from one group to another to exchange greetings and gossip or sitting cosily at one of the many small, round tables for two or eating goulash or eggnog at the grand table at the top of the Hall or dancing in the centre to Celestina Warbeck's crooning.
But there was one guest who was not exchanging small talk or sitting at a cosy table or eating goulash or dancing to 'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me'. As a matter of fact, this particular guest was neither in the Great Hall nor in the contagious festive mood.
Severus Snape was sitting at one of the student tables in his old Potions classroom. The cultivated fingers of his right hand grasped a small velvet box, while he ran his left hand through the dark strands of his hair nervously.
"Will you do me the honour – no – you, my love, are the most – no – every since the moment I first – no!" Severus muttered under his breath irritably. No, this was not working. Severus Snape did not and would not reduce himself to clichés. He placed the exquisite box down on the tabletop, and both in frustration and despair covered his face with his hands.
This was, hands-down, the single most important and difficult situation Severus had and would have to undertake in his life. It would have to be perfect, and perfection was Severus' middle name. Everything the man had put his heart to in his forty-one years of existence had never been less than perfect. But how could he make this perfect when the woman this concerned was herself beyond perfect?
Severus sighed heavily. He questioned for the umpteenth time if he was doing the right thing. They had only been together for less than a year. And she was decades his junior…would she want to settle down with a man who had stiff joints? Sure, she had affirmed countless times over that age was no barrier for them and that she hopelessly loved him, but…what if she was still caught up in the euphoria of their victory in the battle against Voldemort and was delirious as a result?
"Severus?" a gentle voice called him out of his dismal thoughts. Severus quickly grabbed the velvet box and stuffed it into the pocket of his uniform black robes.
He turned in his seat to find the woman of his dreams and life standing in the doorway leading into the classroom with her arms crossed.
"Hermione," he addressed her with a nod. Hermione Granger walked into the room, staring at face of her lover questioningly.
"I've been looking all over for you, Severus. What are you doing down here?" she asked, sitting in the spot beside him.
Severus cleared his throat and took one of Hermione's hands into his own. "I was missing my reliable peace and quiet up in the cacophony transpiring upstairs. I feel quite content down here," he answered, looking around the classroom.
Hermione followed his eyes, staring about the room reminiscently. She let out a soft and satisfied sigh, leaning her head on Severus' shoulder.
"This room brings back a lot of memories, doesn't it?" she murmured.
Severus looked at Hermione with a flash of remorse. "Not good memories for you, I trust," he said contritely.
Hermione gave him a smile; the one Severus had fallen in love with years ago. "Not necessarily good ones…at least this isn't where you called me an 'insufferable know-it-all.'"
Severus flinched, opening his mouth to speak when Hermione placed a finger to his lips. "Sssh…you've already apologised, Severus," she said, and after a pause added, "There are good memories in this classroom as well. I clearly remember the first speech you gave us in our first year here…the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory–"
"Even stopper death," Severus finished in a whisper. "You actually remembered it verbatim?"
Hermione blushed. "Well, I wrote it down, of course." She stared down at their clasped hands. "That speech was very effective. It terrified the students and made me respect you even more than I respected Minerva."
"Those were my intentions. Terrifying the students and earning their respect would lead to their impeccable listening of my instructions, which would keep them from blowing up the classroom," Severus explained plainly.
Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Slytherin tactics do not work in every case; especially with Gryffindors."
"Is that true?" Severus asked dubiously, his eyebrows raised. "Shall I remind you of the day you declared, in a room full of Weasleys, your undying love for me? You wouldn't have revealed your true feelings if it weren't for my subtle, Slytherin prodding."
Hermione let out an unladylike snort. "Subtle, Slytherin prodding my arse! Getting me drunk with three bottles of Firewhiskey is a far cry from subtlety! It's cheating is what it is!"
"Hence the phrase Slytherin tactics," Severus remarked with a sanguine smirk.
Hermione huffed in annoyance, to which Severus answered with a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Hermione," he said softly.
Hermione remained silent, not meeting his eyes.
"I truly love you," Severus said once more.
Hermione looked at him, a conspiring spark in her eyes. "I truly, madly love you," she said smilingly.
"I truly, madly, deeply love you," Severus responded with a smile.
"I truly, madly, deeply – what was the thing you hid in your pocket when I came in here?" Hermione confidently asked, her eyes dancing with victory.
The smile on Severus' face was replaced with an 'o.' "What, what thing? I didn't hide anything – what are you blabbing about?" he quibbled, avoiding her triumphant stare.
"I'm just practising some subtle, Slytherin prodding, my love," Hermione replied with an authentic Slytherin smirk.
Narrowing his eyes at her in perfect Potions professor mode, Severus set his lips in a thin, grim line. Hermione caught the negative shift in his behaviour and promptly acted to correct his chilly countenance.
"Really, Severus…what is it?" she asked in a milder tone, giving his hand a tender squeeze.
Severus closed his eyes with a defeated sigh. He always gave in to that pleading voice of hers.
"You weren't supposed to see it until tonight, but–" he slipped a hand into his pocket, and offering a quick prayer to any divine forces watching over for luck, took out the velvet box.
Hermione dropped her hold on Severus' hand to cover her mouth.
"Oh Severus!" she gasped.
Severus made a vain attempt to discern what emotions lay behind that gasp. Was it joy or, his heart sank, dismay? With a mental shake of his head and a stroke of daring, he began his extemporaneous monologue.
"Hermione…I admit I was never a nice man to you or any of your friends in the past. I was rude, abhorrent, haughty, malevolent, spiteful, scornful, and the bloody, perpetual thorn in your sides, to say the least. I treated you in the foulest of forms, Hermione, assuming an erroneous view of what and who you were. In doing so, I was a bigoted and foolish arse, to put it kindly, and was oblivious to what and who you really are, Hermione. You are fanatically loyal, insanely clever, and recklessly compassionate – but everyone knows that! To me you are–" Severus paused, noting that some time during his hasty speech he had stood up and was now pacing at the front of the classroom. Taking three long strides, he kneeled in front of Hermione, clutching her hands frantically.
"To me Hermione, you are passionate and strong, both at heart and in mind. You are wildly tenacious, always standing staunchly for what you believe in. You have a sensitive and philanthropic soul, which I envy. You are radiant…God, you are beautiful, Hermione…and I still say I have no idea what I have done to deserve you, but," he faltered, his voice shaking slightly, and continued, "I will do everything in my power to make you the happiest witch I can."
His hands shook as he opened the velvet box to expose a ring with a diamond the size of a green pea in a simple bezel setting of white gold. When the ring moved and light from the room's torches reflected on its stone, the diamond sparkled with alternating colours of emerald and scarlet.
"Oh! Oh my god, Severus," Hermione whispered, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.
"Marry me, Hermione." Severus felt his thumping heart come to a halt as he awaited her response.
After a short sob, she answered. "Yes! Yes, Severus, yes!"
Before Severus could as much as let out his breath or place the ring on her finger, Hermione leapt on him. He fell backwards on the cold, hard floor with Hermione on top of him, smothering him with her powerful embrace.
"Hermione!"
"Truly, madly, deeply yes!"
The velvet box slipped from his fingers as Severus held Hermione's face in his hands. What followed next…well, let's leave it to your wild imagination.