Chapter 70: I Love You

When Hermione had wanted to talk with him about her vows, she had made a nice dinner and had it waiting for him when he got home. Severus decided that he could do that as well. Hermione wouldn't be getting back from Fleur's for another two hours, which would give him time to make a good meal, set the scene, and then…

"I love you," he said it out loud for the first time.

"I love you." It felt odd coming off of his tongue. Like something someone else was supposed to say. You've never said it out loud before, never said it to a live person; of course it feels awkward.

Stop dithering about and get cooking! If you want to be done by the time she gets here, you need to get going.

He stared into the freezer, looking at his options for dinner. He by passed the chicken and salmon, and picked up the lamb chops. While holding them, another frozen packet caught his eye: Italian sausage. Haven't done pasta in a long time.

He grabbed the sausage and set it on the counter with a very gentle warming spell. By the time he was back from the market, the sausage would be thawed.

He apparated to his usual spot right behind the market. A moment later, he was strolling through the produce, picking out red peppers, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, oregano, basil, and a selection of olives. Severus then headed to the bakery for a ciabatta. As he lifted the loaf into his basket, a bright flash of color caught his eye.

Flowers. Good idea! What kind? The first time we talked about a wedding she said there was some sort she wanted… What was it? His eyes scanned the blooms, hoping that a shape or color would trigger the memory. Then he saw them, gracefully curved, in deep red and snowy white. Calla lilies. She wanted calla lilies. He grabbed a half dozen of white ones and of the reds, and was halfway to the checkout counter before remembering he didn't have anything to put them in, unless he intended to transfigure something. He went back to where the flowers were, and looked over the vases. None of them made him particularly happy, but he grabbed the cheapest one anyway. He'd turn it into something special when he got home.

Once home, he began his prep work. All the veggies needed to be sliced, the sausage needed to brown, and then they all needed to be cooked together into a sauce. He started with his usual pre-cooking routine, put some music on, wash hands, lay out the cutting board, knife, and food, and then got to work.

Half an hour later his sauce was simmering, and Hermione was due home in an hour. He went to the table and began to lay the silverware. The vase he purchased looked dumpy and awkward with the rest of their tableware, but a bit of concentration and wand waving took care of that.

Table's set, food's cooking, music's playing, now what? What do women do when they want a romantic night? All of that and then put something skimpy on. The image of him in a little, tiny men's bikini jumped into his head, and then jumped right back out again. No! I look fine as it is. There's no need to do anything silly or drastic!

He stirred the sauce and put the water on to boil. How do I tell her? Do I just take her arms, hold her, and tell her? Should I get on my knees? I didn't do that when I asked her to marry me, it might go well now. After dinner, tonight, before we have sex? After? During? During could be trouble, she might think it's because of the sex. Damn it! This is supposed to be easy. I should just look at her and know, and then the right moment will just hit us, and that'll be it. Nice and easy and perfect. This isn't a bloody dance that needs to have every move choreographed in advanced.

Calm down, having a hissy fit won't make it any easier. Dances get choreographed because you want them to be perfect, and you want this to be perfect. He grabbed a bottle of wine, and opened it. Severus set it on the table, and looked at the clock. Forty-five minutes until she got back.

Maybe some inspiration would be good. Snape set his spoon to slowly stirring the sauce, walked over to Hermione's library, and began to browse through her books. He was looking for something helpful, something that was clearly a romance would have been his first choice, but nothing on her shelves seemed to fit that bill. He focused on the fiction, looking for signs on some of the books that they had been read often. He'd pick them out at random and see what pages they fell open to. After ten minutes of skimming conversations, some rather humorous parody, and a few fight scenes, he found something that might be promising.

His eyebrows rose as he continued to read. She likes smut! Tomorrow or the next day I need to spend some time really looking over her book collection. His eyes quickly skimmed the pages, looking for something romantic rather than sexual. Unfortunately for him, the romance at hand wasn't particularly relevant to them. The sex, on the other hand, left him with some ideas for after dinner.

He was looking in the fridge to see if he even owned any chocolate sauce, or a suitable alternative, when the though hit him. Write it down. Go to your office, find some good paper, and write your vows. Put them on her plate, she'll read them while you serve the food. Then she'll respond, and you'll react. Plus she'll have a nice little keepsake; women like things like that.

Snape was not a calligrapher. He didn't have the interest or patience to work on developing particularly nice handwriting. He did like good paper and pens that flowed smoothly. So, although the handwriting was tiny and spiky, the parchment was a heavy, satiny cream, and the ink a glossy black. He finished writing and folded the paper in half. He wrote her name on the top half and laid it at her place. He put the pasta on to cook.

All that was left now was to wait for her to return, stir the sauce, and maybe get that book and read a bit more of it.

Hermione stepped into the Floo at Shell Cottage and stepped out at her home. Even before the dizziness passed she noticed the good smells coming from the kitchen.

She poked her head into the kitchen and saw a spoon stirring spaghetti sauce. She took the spoon and gave it a taste. Pretty good, needs a bit more salt. She added a pinch of salt, stirred, and tasted it again. Perfect! Where's Severus?

She walked through the house, saw the table was set, and figured Snape had to be nearby. Hermione walked upstairs. He must be in his office, reading or working on his notes. She poked her head into his office, but he wasn't there. How odd. He wouldn't leave the house if he was cooking. I'll check the bedroom and then head for his lab. As she walked past her library towards their bedroom, she caught sight of him. What's he doing in my library? What's he reading? Her eyes flicked over the book, and caught the title. Oh God, he finally decides he wants some fiction, so he has to read that! She felt her cheeks heat up.

Severus had gotten into the book. He hadn't noticed the sound of her walking though the house, so it startled him when he noticed her standing in the doorway to her library.

"Hi," he said, feeling like he should hide the book and then feeling silly, it was her book after all.

"Hi back. When did you take up fiction?" She noticed he was blushing a little when she mentioned the book.

He glanced at the clock. "About half an hour ago."

"Really." She nodded at him, her eyebrows high on her head with curiosity. "And what led to your new found desire to read my books?"

"Not all of your books, but this on caught my interest."

"I'm sure it did." She smirked at him. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I was in need of some inspiration. I thought something in here might help."

"What could you want inspiration from here for?" Let alone from that book. Things are going just fine in that department, right? He's not bored already, is he?

"How about you sit down at the table? I'll plate up dinner and tell you about it while we eat."

He marked the page in her book, placed it on the arm of her chair, and wrapped an arm around her, steering her toward the stairs.

"Go, sit, pour the wine, I'll join you in a minute." He watched her head toward the table, his heart beating very quickly. He saw her pick up the paper, and ducked into the kitchen. Part of him wanted to watch her read it, part of him didn't. If she didn't love him… Don't think about that. This will work. Put the spaghetti on the plates and get it sauced. She expects you in there in a minute.

Hermione saw something at her usual place. It took a second before her eyes realized what it was. A small piece of paper with her name on it. She lifted it gingerly. What doesn't he want to say to my face? Her eyes scanned the page.

Hermione,

I bind my life to yours.

I bind my joy to yours.

I bind my sorrow to yours.

I bind my hopes to yours.

I will honour you.

I will cherish you.

I will love you.

I will be your husband.

I love you,

Severus

Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips parted into a smile. She twisted in her chair to see him coming into the dining room carrying two plates of spaghetti. She let him put the plates down, before standing and wrapping her arms around him. For a moment she just held him, her head against his chest.

Then she pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. She stared at him a long time, noticing the nervousness in his eyes, but she not quite able to speak yet. Hermione made sure her smile was large and bright, trying to reassure him with it.

Hermione stood on her toes to kiss his forehead, followed by his nose, and then his lips. She spent a good two minutes on his lips. Lingering on their taste and feel, and trying to compose herself enough so she could speak without crying. Finally, she thought she could do it.

Once more she pulled back, blinking at her tears, a fantastic smile on her face, and this time words did come. "I couldn't have said it first. I tried, but I couldn't do it. Just to say it was to risk losing it, and I don't ever want to lose this. I love you, Severus."

Snape's eyes closed, and he sighed deeply. Relief, peace, hope, joy, and a deep satisfaction all washed over him. He was loved. He was home. He pulled Hermione tightly against him, resting his chin on her head. His lips found her ear, and he kissed it delicately. Then he whispered, "I love you, Hermione."