A/N: This is my entry for Round 1 of the QLFC. My prompts and relevant info are below, but if you're just here to read the story, you can skip ahead. I hope you enjoy! :)

Team: Tutshill Tornados

Position: Beater 1

Round 1 prompt: Write your Beater Two's NOTP (Severus/Hermione)

Optional prompts:

#1 (word) lovely

#2 (word) yesterday

#8 (dialogue) "If I'd wanted you to then I would have asked!"

Word count: 2194

"Severus! Your Doxy egg order just came in," Hermione called from the back room of their co-owned apothecary.

"I'll be there in a moment!" Her husband's voice drifted up from the basement lab.

"I'll start dinner, shall I?" she yelled back down the stairs. They really ought to invest in a better form of communication. She'd remember to note it on The Second Priority To-Do List, but had a feeling it would be forgotten; The First Priority To-Do List was currently rather full.

For now, though, Harry and Ginny would be visiting soon for supper—she'd discovered a delicious pasta recipe that she'd wanted to share with them—but the crate of Doxy eggs that she'd left sitting on the floor kept invading her mind. What if Crookshanks ventured down from their second-floor house compartment? She'd better put them away first.

After 20 minutes of cursing and grumbling to herself while rearranging jars of ingredients, Hermione finally sorted enough space to shove the Doxy egg supply onto the shelf. She sighed. Half an hour before Harry and Ginny arrived. Thankfully, the Potters were notoriously late for everything.

"Severus!" she bellowed and waited a few seconds.

Silence. He must still be brewing. She knew she shouldn't have let him start that batch of Draught of Peace—he always lost track of time. Well, she'd have to cook as much as she could without him and hope he'd finish early enough to help her prepare the meal in time.

But as Hermione climbed the stairs to their living area, she stopped dead at the threshold. Merlin, the house was a mess.

Severus' potions notes littered the couch, the dining table—even the countertops! Hadn't she asked him to put those away yesterday? And she'd told him not to cook around his notes, but he was impossible when he was engrossed in his research.

She shook her head fondly and flicked her wand to gather the papers together, sending them flying to Severus's study. He'd be incredibly displeased if Harry spilled anything on them.

Well, she might as well check on the laundry too—she'd been hoping to wear her pretty flowery dress for their supper, and Severus should have started the washing spells already.

However, as she examined the mountain of clothes in the hamper, Hermione was quite certain, that the laundry pile was still untouched; the sleeve of the knitted sweater she'd worn to The Burrow a week ago dragged against the floor mockingly.

"There you are," Severus said in exasperation as he strode to her side. "I thought you were going to start dinner?"

"I thought you were going to do the laundry," she replied slightly accusingly.

"Hermione," he said patiently, "I've been doing the laundry for the past month. I do believe it is your turn."

Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully. He had, hadn't he? God, she hated when he was right. Still…

"You didn't have to," she muttered rather petulantly.

He snorted. "As if you would have had the time between preparing for Potter and Longbottom's weddings. I didn't mind. However, it would be appreciated if you contributed to the washing again."

"Yes, alright, I get it," she grumbled half-heartedly. "I'm on it. Would you mind cooking the pasta? Harry and Ginny'll be here soon."

Severus paused. "Pardon?"

"They're coming for supper," she elaborated with exaggerated patience. "I told you this yesterday."

"I'm quite certain you didn't."

"Severus! I definitely did. During tea, remember?"

His only response was a bemused stare, and Hermione sighed loudly.

"You were reading that new medical journal? I asked if you were listening—multiple times—and you were quite adamant that I didn't need to repeat anything. 'My hearing is perfectly acceptable.'" She imitated his scornful drawl quite accurately.

"Ah." Severus coughed. "Actually, I do seem to recall something along those lines…"

"Your hearing may be alright, but you've a terrible case of selective attention," she said with a wry smile.

"Yes, well... it was a fascinating article about the proposed benefits of Doxy eggs on—" He cleared his throat at her scowl. "I'll get started on that dinner, then."

She snorted and squeezed his arm. "Thank you. I'll be right out."

"Merlin, I'm exhausted," Hermione mumbled as she collapsed into bed next to Severus.

He grunted in weary solidarity.

"That new Hogwarts Potions Master is an utter toadstool," she continued to gripe as she snuggled up to her husband.

Another grunt.

"Of course, I suppose you were just as bad."

This time, a hum of agreement.

"Where does Minerva keep finding these people?" she wondered sleepily. "I don't think grumpiness is a requirement for obtaining a Potions mastery."

"Hermione." Severus's groan was muffled in her hair. "Please go to sleep."

"Oh, right," she whispered, patting his hand apologetically. "Sorry."

"Mmm."

…

Faint meows floated from across the hall.

"Cripes!" she exclaimed, jolting upright and nearly knocking Severus off the bed.

"Merlin's beard!" her husband groused, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. "What is it?"

"We didn't feed Crookshanks yet! Oh, it's been so busy," Hermione fretted as she attempted to untangle herself from the sheets.

"We? I believe that beast is your responsibility."

She paused her flailing to glare at his figure in the darkness. "You like him, too."

"...The sausage is tolerable. He could do with a missed meal or two—his metabolism is not what it used to be." With that, he rolled onto his side, leaving her scowling at his back.

"Definitely a requirement," she muttered under her breath as she finally freed herself from the blankets.

"Hermione!"

She rushed to the dining room at the sound of her name. "What's wrong, Severus?"

"I can't find my notes on Doxy egg shell properties." The scowl on his face was as menacing as she'd ever seen in the past few years. Except for that one time she'd accidentally shrunk all his clothes. How was she supposed to know that the fitting charm on her undergarments would react badly with the magic of her ironing charms? She'd never had much of a knack for household charms.

"What do you mean you can't find them?" she parroted dumbly. "Surely they must be somewhere in your stack of notes."

"They should be, shouldn't they?" He eyed her critically. "And yet they're nowhere to be found."

She frowned at his expression, suddenly feeling like she was retaking her NEWTs. "What are you trying to say here, Severus?"

"They're hard to miss, you see—I charmed the paper to vibrate when touched." His tone was overly casual.

Uh oh. She'd thought that she'd just imagined the trembling of the pasta recipe that she'd handed to Harry before he left.

"You know," she said suddenly, pretending to sound surprised, "I think I remember putting that away when I was cleaning the other day. I'll grab it for you after supper, okay?"

With a knowing, satisfied smirk, Severus nodded and returned to his lab.

"Harry!" she yelled as soon as she stepped through his Floo. "Do you remember that pasta recipe I told you to make for Ginny sometime?"

With his head pillowed in his arms on the kitchen table, Harry snapped upright at her abrupt entrance. Reminders of the Auror paperwork he'd been slaving over were imprinted into his forehead.

"Huh?" Harry mumbled, momentarily disoriented. "Oh, yeah. I haven't gotten a chance to use it yet. Why do you ask?"

She cleared her throat sheepishly. "I think I gave you Severus' notes by accident. Would you mind grabbing them for me?"

Now Harry seemed awake; his green eyes widened in alarm. "Hang on—you what?"

Hermione felt a matching panic rising in her core. "Please tell me you didn't lose them."

"Err, no—of course not. Just, ah, give me a day or two to find them, alright?" Harry was already out of his seat and rushing down the hall.

Great.

Severus's tone was much less forgiving when she returned.

"What do you mean you couldn't get them back?" he asked flatly.

She tried valiantly to placate him. "Look, just give him some time—you know Harry's not the most organized person. I don't think he would've just thrown out my 'recipe.'"

Severus sighed loudly and pulled out a chair, collapsing onto the dining table in much the same manner that Harry had been earlier. She made quite certain not to mention that to him now, though.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I'll help you recompile the notes," she offered, placing her hands on his shoulders comfortingly.

"No, there's no point now—the Doxy eggs will spoil," he lamented, leaning into her.

"Perhaps you should have your important notes turn blue next time instead," she joked lightly, only to immediately regret it. In hindsight, she could have waited for a better time to mention their miscommunication.

"Oh, shall I have them fold into origami as well?" he retorted snidely and twisted to scowl at her. "And I'd thought vibrating paper would be obvious enough. How silly of me."

"Don't be an arse, Severus." Hermione returned his scowl just as fiercely. "It might help, though, if you didn't leave your notes in every crevice of the house. You have a study room for a reason."

"It's never been an issue before—and it still wouldn't have been one if you would look at what you're handing over to Potter."

She let her hands drop from his shoulders and crossed her arms. "It's never been an issue because I always clean up after you!"

"If I'd wanted you to then I would have asked!" he growled, gripping tightly on the back of the chair. "I think I'd rather if you didn't touch my notes, actually."

"Severus Snape!" Her voice was dangerously close to a shriek. "What could possibly be so important in those notes that you can't rewrite them in a few days?"

The angry scowl eased into a petulant pout. "Not enough time," he muttered, sitting properly in his chair once more.

Hermione rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in exasperation as she stomped to the bathroom to prepare for bed. She'd let him stew alone.

An hour later, Severus crawled into bed next to Hermione. She automatically shuffled over to create space for his long frame.

"Did you know," he began quietly, curling an arm around her, "that even when you absolutely infuriate me, you're still incredibly lovely?"

She snorted but couldn't help a soft smile from creeping onto her face. "Pretty words. Did they teach that in Potions school as well?"

She didn't have to be facing him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "I apologize," he murmured lowly into the darkness. "The research was meant to be a surprise for our upcoming anniversary…"

"Oh," she gasped in realization and turned over to grip him closer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin it."

He shrugged. "It can't be helped now—let's put that behind us. Would you like to work with me this time?"

"Of course! What were you researching?"

He cleared his throat, and he seemed almost—nervous? "It's a memory restoration potion."

She blinked rapidly, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Severus," she breathed, unable to voice her swirling emotions. It had been years since they'd traveled to Australia and failed to reverse her memory charm. They hadn't spoken much of it since then. Could this potion cure her parents? How long had he been planning this?

"I hadn't wanted to mention it to you before, but I've progressed far enough that I'm fairly confident it should work," he continued soothingly. "It's the least I could do for you putting up with me all this time."

She sniffled between giggles. "You're a grumpy sod, but you're also quite lovely, did you know?"

"Don't call me that—I'm not lovely. Why don't we take a visit to the Hogwarts library first thing tomorrow? I'm sure Minerva would love to see you as well."

The next morning, a black-haired, bespectacled man tumbled gracelessly out of the Snapes' Floo.

"Hermione! I just need a few more days, alright? Ginny gave the recipe—well, Snape's notes—to her Mum to try and you know she's already tucked it away in her cookbook," Harry rambled as he straightened his glasses. "But at least you know they're safe for sure there. Hermione?" he queried when he realized his best friend had yet to respond.

"Mreeoow."

"Oh, hullo, Crooks. Is Hermione here?"

The great ginger cat licked disinterestedly at his paw.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. Er, is Snape in?"

Baleful yellow eyes stared unblinkingly at him.

Harry grimaced. "Right, well, I'll let myself out. You, ah—you won't mention I was here, will you, Crooks? I'll have the notes back by tomorrow, promise. Snape's not too mad, is he?"

The half-Kneazle let out a series of loud yowls.

Harry paled and backed away slowly to the Floo, glancing around suspiciously for signs of Snape's. "That mad, huh? Well, you let Hermione know I'll have the notes in a jiffy." He turned and grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

An image of Snape's disdainful sneer entered his mind and he shuddered.

"Might send them by owl instead though," he muttered to himself, stepping into the fireplace.