I can't stand to think about
A heart so big it hurts like hell.
Oh my God, I gave my best,
But for three whole years to end like this...
The First Single, by the Format
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"Mistress Granger," Severus began, but she glared at him, curls hanging loose about her face, and shook her head warningly.
"Hermione," he amended, though he looked slightly ill as he said it.
"Yes?" she asked, encouragingly. Perhaps a bit too sarcastically, because he shot her a fierce frown, and she quickly pulled her hands into her lap and sat up straighter. He could still make her flinch when reprimanded.
Severus cleared his throat, looking down at the carpet. Pulling something out of some hidden pocket, he palmed it and stood awkwardly. She looked up at him, openly confused now. This had to be their strangest encounter yet, and that was certainly saying something, because she had seen the man at least once a week for the past two years, and no moment she spent with Severus Snape could ever be classified as anything but 'strange.'
Hermione snapped her attention back to the man before her when she realized he was kneeling on one knee in front of her, as she sat in her (new) dining room chair in old blue jeans.
"…Severus?" she asked, worrying for his health at this point. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, unless kneeling was some new even more formal way of greeting someone. He did seem to be becoming absurdly restrained lately, she wouldn't put it past him.
"Hermione," he said, looking up at her with his dark eyes, searching hers. She cocked her head to the side.
"Yes?" she prodded.
He took a deep breath. "Would you do me the… ah, honour of becoming my… wife?"
Her jaw dropped.
"What?"