Severus placed one final plate under a stasis charm on the kitchen table and stood back to admire his handiwork. One of the many benefits of potion mastery was how well it extrapolated to the culinary arts, which on this occasion resulted in a fabulous breakfast spread of French toast, spiced apple compote, almond butter, and vanilla crème; alongside a cafetière of freshly ground coffee, and a pot of loose leaf tea. Having woken extremely early to find Hermione not downstairs, Severus had busied himself creating a Sunday feast for his gracious host as the least he could do to express his gratitude. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was getting on for 9am and, assuming the witch would soon be awake, Severus busied himself washing up and tidying the kitchen.

Moments later, Hermione appeared in the doorway behind Severus so quietly he did not notice amidst the clatter of pots and pans in the sink. Taking in the scene before her, Hermione allowed a feeling of warmth and genuine contentment to wash over her. Nobody had taken care of her like this since before the Battle, and something about seeing the man with whom she had shared her home, her time and her soul now busying about the place felt homely and right. What the witch was less at ease with were the butterflies which had taken up residence in her tummy since last night's peck on the cheek. The same butterflies which were now causing her to bite her lower lip thoughtfully as she her gaze raked over the tall, dark man silhouetted against the sunny window; she admired how the tight black t shirt clung to his toned torso, how the short sleeves were stretched over his biceps which were surprisingly toned, continuing down to well sculpted forearms (the result of many years stirring cauldrons and brandishing his wand…); how the velvety grey chinos clung to -

"Good morning, Miss Granger." Severus drawled, catching sight of her reflection in the window. Hermione jumped out of her visual appraisal, blushing as she pretended to be stretching off her run.

"Morning, Severus. What is all this?"

Severus turned to face her, crossing his arms casually as he leaned back against the worktop. Taking in her outfit, he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you might appreciate breakfastas I believed I was up before you. Although it appears you were up and about even earlier?" What he didn't voice was how strong, fit and utterly enticing the witch looked in her tight running shorts and tucked in t-shirt, glowing and rosy from whatever exercise she had been up to.

"Sorry, I should have mentioned last night - on Sunday mornings Minerva allows me to row on the lake at Hogwarts in exchange for coaching the students some nights. I felt oddly full of energy still after, so apparated to the village a couple of miles away to get a run in on the way home!"

"Did nobody tell you Sundays are a day of rest, Hermione?" Severus mocked, the smile shaping his lips giving away his growing fondness for the vivacious woman.

"Well Severus, you should be happy that I have worked up such an appetite because this feast you have kindly put on is all the more appreciated for it!" Hermione smiled warmly, waving a hand over herself in a wordless cleansing charm before taking a seat at the table. Severus returned her smile, joining her at the table.

"I hope it lives up to expectations now. Please, dig in."

—

An hour later the tableware bared only crumbs, coffee dregs and tea leaves. The feast had indeed lived up to expectations, and much more, with its indulgers alternating between companionable silence interspersed with groans of appreciation, and jovial chat catching Severus up on various mundane aspects of life and friends. When they reached a lull in the conversation, Severus stood up, beginning to clear the table.

"Thank you, Severus. That was truly delicious and an absolutely lovely surprise." Hermione said as she helped pile up the plates, against Severus' admonishments.

"Anytime." Severus threw over his shoulder, as he recommenced washing up.

"Don't say that, or I'll have you here every Sunday cooking for me!" Hermione semi-joked, hoping the wistfulness she felt didn't come across in her tone of voice. Whether or not it did was academic, for Severus felt his own surge of wistfulness hearing such a thing, having enjoyed the morning more than he'd care to admit.

Deciding that it was not a bad thing to express his viewpoint to an extent, Severus steeled himself to respond more freely than he was used to. "Don't threaten me with a good time, witch."

Hermione wasn't sure if she had misinterpreted Severus' response, but judging by the flush she could see creeping up his cheeks, realised with a warm heart she had not. Allowing her heart to rule her judgement, she slinked up behind him at the sink and leaned over his shoulder until her lips where a breath from his ear, causing him to freeze. When he didn't move away, she whispered "Same time next week then, Severus?", and kissed his cheek in a mimic of his move the night prior. Pleasant shivers ran down Severus' spine, and his heart thawed even more from her warmth against his neck and cheek.

Waltzing away to get changed, with a spring in her step, Hermione barely caught Severus' tentative, whispered reply; "it's a date".