The Potions Master and the Ravenclaw

"I'm Yours"

Something had changed between Madeline and Snape after their trip to London. They felt closer, more connected. Perhaps it was the merging of finances or the change in location or their intense physical encounter on the train, but whatever the reason, they were more in love than ever.

Snape had begun training her in battle techniques in earnest and she was, as he predicted, a quick study. She was fierce, fearless, fast, agile, clever, and strategic in her dueling style and he began to consider ways to help her tap into powers hiding just under the surface. He suspected that she would be particularly skilled in elemental magic (especially fire) and thought he might enlist Dumbledore to help her harness that talent. She also showed some aptitude with wandless magic and unspoken spells, specialties of Snape's as well, and it pleased him.

Madeline and Snape practiced together frequently and secretly in the room of requirement and then, fueled with the tension built by their sparring, made passionate love afterwards.

Snape found himself craving the routine into which they had fallen while she convalesced after her illness. He missed having her in his bed every night and was eager to be married so he could wake every morning with her in his arms. His nightmares were back with a vengeance and he had not slept more than three or four hours at a time in days. Today, however, they had made plans for her to spend the weekend with him and he was looking very much forward to it. Very much indeed.

...

Snape was sitting at his desk in his living room room grading papers and Madeline was studying in a chair by the fireplace. He laid down his quill and watched her, her brow furrowed in concentration and her cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the fire. She was biting her lower lip, as was her habit. Her dark curls were piled on top of her head in a loose bun and she looked so beautiful, lit in the soft glow of the firelight, that it almost physically hurt him.

He took a piece of parchment and folded it into the shape of a bird. He waved his wand over it, animating it. He laid it in his palm, lifted it up, and the paper bird gracefully flew to her. She looked up from her book at the sound of the soft rustling of its wings. She smiled and held out her hand and the bird landed gently in her palm. She beamed as she turned to him, a look of pure joy on her pretty face. His heart almost exploded in his chest. That look was for him. Only him.

"Oh! Severus! I adore your paper birds. So lovely," she breathed.

"Not as lovely as you."

"You're sweet."

"Few would agree with you." He smirked.

"I love you."

"And I love you."

"Are you almost finished with your work?"

"Almost, my sweet."

"Good. Will you read to me when you've finished? Please? You know how I love it and you haven't done it in so long."

"Of course, darling." He would do anything for her.

She smiled and went back to her textbook.

When he had graded his last essay, he read to her as she lay with her head in his lap. His rich, low voice mesmerized her as she listened and watched the fire dancing in the fireplace.

Snape reached the end of a chapter and closed the book. She sat up and kissed his cheek. He turned to face her and she kissed his lips. Softly, gently.

"I love you," she said.

"I adore you," he replied.

Then he took her face in his hands, stared into her eyes and spoke very slowly and deliberately, enunciating each word.