AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
"What kind of cake mix did you get?" Severus approached her.
She pulled out a box from a paper bag. "I want you to touch this."
"Couldn't you just tell me what it is?"
"No." There was a spark in her eyes. "I want you to see it for yourself."
He hummed as he took it from her. The back of the box contained the instructions, but the front was far more interesting. It displayed a white cake with pink, blue, and green sprinkles atop it. Multicolored letters hung over the cake.
"Funfetti?" He drawled.
"Yep."
His eyebrow looked as if it would float off his face.
"It's my dad's favorite kind of cake." She lowered her voice. "Though you can't tell him I told you that."
"Why not?"
"It's his dirty little secret." She took the box and put it on the counter. "He thinks he should like a more manly flavor like chocolate, but he can't resist the multicolored sugar inside."
"I see."
"Have you ever had it?"
"I cannot say I ever had the desire to taste something so," he drawled the last word. "Juvenile."
"It isn't juvenile." Hermione giggled.
"I would vehemently disagree. Anything with that many colors is juvenile."
"No, it's perfectly adult, just for the young at heart."
"I am very much not young at heart, and you know it."
"No, you're just a grump."
"It would serve you well never to forget that."
"Well, Mr. Grump, if you're so mature, what is your favorite type of cake?" She strolled towards the refrigerator.
"I was always fond of chocolate."
"Was that your favorite kind of cake though?" She pulled out a carton of eggs.
"More or less."
"More or less?"
"There is no need for the echo. We both know you are capable of hearing."
"Fine, I'll play along. What kind of chocolate cake did you like?" The door shut behind her. "German chocolate, chocolate with white frosting, or something else?"
He shrugged.
Her lips curled up. "Chocolate isn't your favorite kind of cake, is it?"
"Good, you got the eggs out," He began in his best professor voice. "Now you will need to pull out your measuring cups…"
"Not until you tell me what your actual favorite flavor of cake is."
He frowned.
"What is it?"
"That is irrelevant to this lesson."
"I think it's very relevant," she replied. "I told you that my favorite is yellow cake with chocolate frosting, I told you my dad's favorite kind of cake, but you haven't told me yours."
"If you want your dad to have a wonderful cake then you will need to focus. We only have one evening to get this right."
"I don't have to bring him a cake. In fact." She scratched the counter. "He may be afraid to try anything I bake."
"His fears would be unfounded. I will ensure that anything you bake is more than adequate," He crossed his arms over his chest. "Assuming you bake anything."
"I will once you answer my question."
His glow was a dull red.
"What is your favorite flavor of cake?"
"Why do you care? It isn't like I can smell or eat it."
"So? It's still a fact about you I take an interest in."
He gave her a playful scowl.
"Please." She gave him the most doe-eyed expression she could. "It would help me feel closer to you if you told me."
He muttered something.
"What?" She cupped her ear and leaned closer.
"I said it's strawberry with vanilla frosting."
She blinked and backed away.
"Why do you appear so shocked?"
"Nothing." She cleared her throat. "I'm just trying to imagine my most feared professor sitting alone with a piece of strawberry cake singing 'happy birthday' to himself after a night of supervising detentions."
"I never sang on my birthday," he replied. "In fact, I forbid all singing in my classroom and quarters that day."
"That sounds depressing."
"If you had to listen to Minerva singing off-key you would put the same measures in place."
"Fair enough, but a birthday without music sounds depressing."
"The whole day was depressing, so lack of music meant nothing."
She swallowed.
"I despised my birthday. There were few people to share it with, and at the time I loathed my life." He let out a chuckle as he turned cyan. "If I'd known what it was like to be dead I may have appreciated living more."
"Do you wish you were alive?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I do not mind this form, and I am happy with you."
"But it isn't the same as living."
"No, and I am unsure if that is a good or bad thing."
"I suppose it just is."
"If I am honest most of my mixed feelings on the matter revolve around you."
"Why?"
"You deserve better than me." His glow turned a darker shade of blue. "You deserve a man who is alive and can properly court you, not a spirit confined to your house."
"Let me decide what I deserve." She touched his hand.
"You are quite adept at knowing what you want." His glow became a bright yellow.
"I am," she breathed.
For one long moment, they gazed upon each other, absorbing each other's affection.
"That being said, we have work to do." Severus slid his hand from hers. "Once we complete our work we can touch as much as you would like."
"Promise?"
"I wish the cake was done baking now so we could be together on the couch."
She grinned as she scurried to collect her measuring cups.
"That's all there was to making a cake?"
He nodded as she pulled the cake out of the oven.
"I thought it would be complicated." She set it on top of the oven.
"Making a cake from scratch is sometimes complicated depending on the recipe," he answered. "Making one from the mix is quite simple and straightforward."
"It must be if even I can do it." She took a toothpick and stuck it into the cake. Then she removed it. "Is this good?"
He examined it. "It looks perfect."
"Great." She turned off the oven.
"Baking a cake from the mix is simple, which is why I chose it for you to try. I didn't want you to be intimidated by baking, so I gave you a recipe which had a high rate of success," he began.
"Thank you. I was nervous about all this. From the way Molly talked it sounded like baking would be nearly impossible for me."
"You had too many dunderheads in your life telling you that baking was impossible when in actuality, they did not have the patience to teach you. The fault was on them."
"Then it's fortunate I found a superior teacher."
"That you did." He touched her hand.
She sighed. "I am going to miss you tomorrow."
"As will I," he whispered.
"Can I still pray to you?" There was a hitch in her voice.
"I don't know." His voice was soft. "I will listen for you though."
"Hermione!"
Severus broke away from her.
"Hermione, are you there?"
She glanced at him. "I can pretend I'm not home."
He shook his head. "At some point you need to meet with your other friends, even if I am around."
"But we need to frost the cake."
"Hermione!"
"Then get him off the floo as soon as you can."
Hermione darted over to the fireplace and straighten her t-shirt. "Hello, Harry."
"Hello," he replied.
"Is everything okay?"
"Everything's great." Harry's smile covered his entire face. "I just have some new ultrasound pictures to show you."
"You do!" Her face lit up.
Severus' glow lessened.
"Yes, but if you're busy I understand."
She glanced at the spirit.
"I will be in your bedroom," Severus began.
"You can stay though." She stepped away from the fireplace. "I'm sure Harry would love being in your presence again."
From the look on his face, she knew the feeling would not be mutual.
"If you leave I suppose I understand though." Her voice was softer.
"I would just be in your way if I stayed." He backed towards the bedroom. "Still, I promised to help frost your cake. I can wait until you're done speaking with Potter and reappear."
"Are you certain?"
"I promise not to leave the house until the cake is complete."
"Fine."
Severus floated to the bedroom, Crookshanks in hot pursuit.
"Hermione? Are you there?"
"I'm here." She rushed back to the fireplace. "Sorry, I just needed to take care of something."
"Or someone." A woman with dreamy eyes appeared in the fireplace.
Hermione groaned.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Mr. Black Dress."
"Oh crap, I didn't think about your non-boyfriend." Harry's eyes were wide. "I didn't think about you possibly being busy this evening. I'm so sorry."
"No, it's fine," she replied. "He just left, so your timing is perfect."
"I hope you didn't make him leave on our account," Harry replied.
"He was halfway out the door anyway."
"I know, but I wish he would've stayed so I could meet him."
"He'll show himself to us when he's ready," Luna chimed in.
"I wish he'd be ready soon." Harry replied. "I'd love to meet him."
"He will when he's ready," Luna promised.
"I'm certain he will," Hermione answered. "In the meantime, you two must be tired of standing hunched over like that."
"It does hurt a little to bend in my condition," Luna admitted.
"Here, come in." Hermione backed away from the fireplace.
Within a few seconds, the Potters materialized in front of her. As they shook of the soot from each other, Hermione glanced at her bedroom.
Would Severus really be there when Harry left?