A/N: "She" is Hermione and "He" Severus. I've written it with capital letters, because they're not just someone, they Them.

Words are not a necessity when you love each other. Some tea, coffee and chocolate biscuits will do fine

She reached for another chocolate biscuit, knowing that He was watching Her. Her hand reached the bowl with the biscuits and instead of taking one herself She gestured towards it, indicating that He should take one. Then, She took a biscuit and pulled Her hand back. She did not eat the biscuit, yet, but looked at the man opposite her, waiting for Him to take one too. When it became apparent for Him that She wasn't going to eat it, but stare at Him until He took one too, He slowly reached for a biscuit. They sat watching each other, daring the other to take a bite. Eventually He took a bite; a few crumbs strayed about. The biscuit was dry, they usually were, but the chocolate pieces gave a nice contrast and made sure His mouth wouldn't dry out. Slowly She, too, took a bite, a few crumbs falling and a few settling in the corners of Her mouth. However, they were quickly gone with a sweep of Her hand across Her mouth.

They did this quite often. She would be up at night, unable to fall asleep, and He would be leaving a message on the table for some of the other Order members to find in the morning. He never left once He'd gotten there. She made sure of that. They never spoke, no words were really necessary, and why speak when words would ruin what they had silently established? The first time had been strange. He had sniffed at Her presence and She had gestured towards the bowl. The silence was uncomfortable and He had left almost as soon as possible. However, the later times He stopped sniffing at Her and would take a seat while She made coffee and gestured towards the biscuits. He never said "thank you" and She never asked him to.

Why He stayed He did not know, why She wanted Him to stay She did not know. It was just that. Silently regarding each other while drinking coffee and tea and eating biscuits. Sometimes when She looked at Him She smiled. Not a bit smile, but a small smile. He would almost quirk His eyebrow in surprise, but eventually the surprise turned into a small upward quirk of His own in reply. She knew His routine by now, as He knew Hers. He always came Monday, Wednesday and Saturday, night. She always stayed up all night until She recognised the pattern. She never asked what was in the letters he laid on the kitchen table for the Order members to find, and He never expected to elaborate on the subject.

One time He was late. Tenseness had settled in Her shoulders. When He came He was broken. He was bleeding badly and limping. She took Him to his seat at the table and went over to pour Him some coffee, while gesturing towards the biscuits on the table; She was smiling for he had come, even though His obvious state. He watched Her as She made the coffee, like She always did. She was smiling and He couldn't help but smile a bit too. He was here, He thought. A bit late, but He was here. She brought Him his coffee and while He sipped it She tended His wounds, healing the best She could. When She was done She looked Him in the eyes, silently asked if there was more to do. He wanted to kiss Her then, but He refrained and looked away.

The Last War broke out three weeks before school started. Not that he would've cared, because She wouldn't be in his class anymore. She had graduated just before the start of the vacation, along with Her blasted friends. He fought on the side of light, but pretended to be on the side of dark. He scouted for Her, begging for Her safety. The battle was a blur and He was badly injured. Luckily Potter won over The Dark Lord. But She was still missing. People looked for Her. They knew She had been fighting, but where She was they did not know. Many were taken to the Infirmary at Hogwarts. Potter and Weasley lay in the beds nearby. Dumbledore was talking with a few Aurors about the Death Eaters. Potter and Weasley were asking about Her.

And She stood there. While people fuzzed about those Death Eaters escaped and fuzzed about those missing and fuzzed about Her She entered. She cleared Her throat softly and heads turned towards Her. Potter and Weasley called for Her happily, but She only smiled softly in their general direction. Then She turned towards Him and walked with calm steps towards Him, a tray in Her hands with a mug of coffee, and mug of tea and some biscuits.

"They did not have any chocolate," those were Her words and His heart bristled and He broke into a private smile. All others forgotten.

"I don't mind," He whispered quietly, "as long as they're from you," She smiled and then She settled the tray on His bedside table and handed Him His mug and gestured towards the biscuits. Potter and Weasley were calling for Her attention, in hope to get contact with her, but She did not pay attention. She knew their wounds weren't bad, so She wasn't worried. Not enough worried to take Her away from the one She loved anyway. He grasped Her hand, a touch of love and a silent question for Her not to leave him. She smiled and silently reassured Him that She wouldn't leave Him, ever.

They lay in the bed, looking at each other. Words were rarely spoken between the pair. They just looked at each other and explored each other's bodies with the eyes. It was morning, perhaps around six, and they were lying closely against each other. Chest-to-chest, face-to-face. He reached out and pulled some hair away from Her face.

"Marry Me," He whispered quietly and was rewarded with one of Her warm smiles. She leaned closer and kissed Him softly in reply.

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