Hello!

On February 2, 2013, I will celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary. I have decided to honour it by writing twenty-five one-shots to be posted, one per day, beginning twenty-five days before the big day. Imagine my surprise when I realised that twenty-five days before Feb. 2nd is...January 9th, an auspicious day for any Severus Snape loving person.

These drabble-ish postings will be—for the most part—based on the actual vows my hubby and I took when we married the second time. Now you're scratching your heads, aren't you? We eloped while overseas and then, three years later, married in the Catholic Church.

So that you don't think I've repeated a vow twice, I've included the vows that we will be repeating on our anniversary, although in the Episcopalian tradition. The vows of both traditions are similar, yet distinct and beautiful in their own ways.

Since there are more days than there are vows between my first posting and my anniversary, I've thrown a few other moments from my marriage into the mix. I hope you enjoy them.

Severus and Hermione will be OOC, somewhat fluffy, and occasionally angsty. As usual, I do not own the characters, just the situations I place them into.


January 9, 2013: Happy Birthday, Severus Snape

Severus rolled over in his sleep, his hand intuitively looking to scoop his wife of five years closer to him. It was a rare morning that Hermione was not in bed next to him, and if she wasn't going to be, he usually would know why beforehand. Where was she?

A crash brought him to full consciousness. He leapt out of bed and called out, "Hermione?" Are you all right? Where are you?"

A muffled voice called back, "I'm fine! Don't worry!"

Severus grumbled to himself, "Too late." Dressed only in his pyjama bottoms (Hermione always took possession of his pyjama tops), he went to find his lioness who, more than likely, was up to no good. He checked the loo, the sitting room, the library, and all were Hermione free. As there were only so many rooms in Spinner's End, he figured she must be in the kitchen; he was certain that was where the crash had come from. The thought filled him with trepidation.

In the five years they had been married, the couple had learned that although she could wield a wand fearlessly, whip up a potion with ease, and correct one hundred poorly written essays in less than one hour, she could not cook. Oh, she could do toast, brew tea, and make a sandwich, but Severus had lost track of the number of eggs she had burned, the kilograms of pasta she had over-boiled, and roasts she had forgotten that she'd put in the cooker. Merlin bless her though, her heart was in it.

Severus stood in the doorway looking at his once tidy kitchen. There stood his wife, looking particularly sexy in nothing but his pyjama top, with a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other. The pan hung loosely, dripping what look liked egg yolk onto the floor into a pile of bacon and beans. Lying beside her feet was the source of the crash. The remains of a serving platter glinted in the morning sunshine coming through the window.

Hermione looked up at her husband. She had a shy smile on her face. "Well, that was your birthday breakfast."

They both began laughing. "I appreciate your attempt, love," said Severus. "I would have been happy with just some toast and tea."

"I know, but it's your birthday, and I really wanted to do something a little more than toast."

Severus wandlessly cleaned up the floor as Hermione placed the pan and spatula in the sink.

"Would you allow me to take you out for breakfast, then?" she asked.

"That would be just fine. Where did you have in mind?" Severus had moved closer to Hermione and placed his hands around her waist.

"Um...to my mother's?"

Severus' eyes lit up. His mother-in-law was a wonderful cook. "Would she mind?"

"Oh, no. In fact, I sort of already put her on alert that if this," Hermione waved her hand around the kitchen, "didn't work out, we'd be over."

"I would like that."

"Okay, let's go change, and we'll Apparate over."

Severus watched Hermione ascended the stairs ahead of him, and admired her bottom as it swayed beneath his pyjama shirt. He decided he wanted a little birthday present before they went to her parents.

"Hermione, when did you tell her we'd be over?" he said silkily.

"Around eleven. I told her to fix a brunch. Why?"

They had reached their bedroom when Severus snatched her up into her arms and tossed her onto the bed. "Your bottom looks particularly nice under that shirt, and since it's my birthday, I want to see your bottom out of my shirt."

He pounced on his wife as she giggled, "Happy Birthday, Severus."

They were late for brunch.