A Room With a View

Happy New Year!

Severus woke on New Year's Eve morning to find the bed next to him rather cold and smirked sleepily. He couldn't hear the shower running, so that meant that Hermione had likely procured a bacon butty from the elves and closeted herself in the library again. She was definitely a woman after his own heart. 

It was just as well. He had preparations to make.

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Hours later and chores done, Severus finally entered the library, levitating a lunch tray in front of him. As he suspected, Hermione was sitting on the divan with her nose buried in a three-hundred-year-old treatise on the use of transfigured ingredients in potions. She glanced up when he set the tray down on the repurposed card table (and occasional erotic surface).

"Hey there, sleepyhead," she said with a smile. "You're up late today."

Severus shrugged nonchalantly. "I assumed you'd be hip deep in books in here and used the opportunity to explore some of the unused bedrooms off the upper gallery. I think I'm going to expand my bedroom into a proper master suite, now that you'll be living here too. Put in a real closet, expand the bath. I was just exploring some of the possibilities."

"That sounds lovely," she responded. "Perhaps I might convince you to put in a soaker tub?"

"Already on the list."

The smile grew. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

"For my attentiveness to the important question of household plumbing?" he asked with a raised brow.

She appeared to think for a moment before nodding her head decisively. "Yes."

"Love you too, darling," he drawled sarcastically before offering his hand to pull her up from her seat. "Leave the book for a bit. You need to eat."

"Mmm, yes. Smells divine."

Severus slid a bowl of soup in front of her as she slid into her chair. "Primmy made cream of asparagus soup."

Hermione sipped from her spoon. "Primmy is wasted here on her own nine months of the year," she said, closing her eyes after a mouthful of soup. "This is amazing."

"I am well aware," Severus smirked, dipping into his own bowl.

They ate in companionable silence for some time before Hermione leaned back in her chair. "So it's New Year's Eve," she began.

"Yes."

"Have we any plans?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, taking another spoonful of soup.

She waited. "...and those plans are?"

He glanced up at her again. "Those plans are for me to know and you to find out," he said imperiously. "Though I would suggest meeting me in the dining room for a late dinner at half nine. Primmy is making a heavy tea to hold us over until then."

"The dining room? We never eat in the dining room!" She was right. They'd generally eaten in the library or the kitchen throughout her entire stay.

"Correct. Tonight we shall. We are, after all, celebrating the passage of a year together. A rather good year." He paused. "I thought a full dinner would be more appropriate than soup and sandwiches to mark the occasion. I've asked that champagne be served with sinner, so a more formal setting seemed just the thing."

"Formal? So I should wear a dress, then."

He shrugged. "Wear what you like, Hermione. It will only be us. I will not object to anything you wear."