Sacred Sunset

~~~ Sacred Sunset ~~~

~~~(or, Magic of an Old Cathedral)~~~

It was one of those rare days when there's not a cloud in the sky, and it's looking to be a most glorious sunset as well. It's a nice respite from the last month--a month of raining every single day and in general, just dampening my enthusiasm. Oh, it never dampened my enthusiasm for you, my darling, but you know what I mean... just that overall sense of lethargy and ennui. When you're tempted to just lie in bed all day.

Not that that would have been altogether unpleasant.

But enough of that. Here we are, fifty feet in the air, taking in the sights below and around us. The thirty-day soaking has done wonders for the landscape. I haven't seen it so magnificently green in a long time--maybe years.

I can tell it takes your breath away, too, even though I don't wish to turn around so I can see it on your face. I have gotten a bit rusty on the broomstick, you know, and as I said, I'm having my concentration tested as it is.

But there's no mistaking your wonder, your love and affection. I can feel it in your arms folded gently around my waist, your cheek resting against my back. I can hear it in your soft breaths. You show no fear, even with my being out of practice.

I am touched at this further proof of how much you trust me.

"Just smell it, Severus," you say. "Isn't it just heavenly?"

I breathe in, and I must agree with you. There is something enchanting about the scent of foliage after a rain. The wildflowers and ripe berries add a cheerful note, finally convinced that it really is summer.

Your hands around my waist clasp as the wind picks up slightly. I grip tighter, anticipating turbulence.

"I need to get out and do this more," I said.

"Yes, you do. I haven't had this much fun in a long time." You give my waist a gentle squeeze.

"I'm getting the hang of it." We are picked up by a little eddy, and I maintain control. Breaking free from the air current, I find that we are hovering over a broad, shallow valley that is about half grassy meadow and half thick chestnut forest. A small, sparkling stream runs parallel to our path. It's a scene right out of a Constable painting.

"Hey, look at that!" you suddenly say, and I turn my head in the direction of your pointing finger... toward a ruined cathedral, glowing golden tan in the fading sunlight.

"Isn't that beautiful? Can we go down and have a look?"

That sounds like an excellent idea.

We pass through one of the frames where a stained-glass window once sat, and come to a smooth, gradual landing on what was once the floor, now bare gravel and grass. The sun sinks a little lower, and the stone walls turn reddish orange and deep gold.

"It's lovely," you say as you walk up and down the length of the nave. "I wonder which century it was built in."

I concentrate for a minute on the apse, what is left of it. "I think it must be the twelfth or thirteenth century... I think that's what that particular shape means."

You turn to me with glowing eyes. "Even though it's a ruin, I still feel like I'm in the presence of something sacred."

"That's not an uncommon reaction in an ancient church."

We spend the next few moments in silence, simply admiring the cathedral's beauty, until I feel a stirring deep within myself. Almost a stomach-churning sensation, but it's not in my stomach. My eyes are burning, as if tears are about to form.

I'm about to cry. I never cry. Not since growing up, anyway. Maybe it's that sense of sacredness you mention, but I can't remember a time when I've been so overcome with emotion.

I can't take my eyes off you as you stand some twenty feet away, facing the sunset, a peaceful smile on your lips. The gold of the sun plays on your hair, giving you the radiant look of a goddess. I don't want to say that it makes you look like an angel with your halo, because that comparison has been done to death. Besides, I like the image of a goddess better for you.

For you are a goddess. Whether you know it or not, you are powerful. You used your intelligence, your perseverance, and your sheer abiding love to accomplish what I'd long thought impossible: my redemption. You saved me from my private hell, and gave me a life worth looking forward to.

I swallow hard, for the lump in my throat has gotten quite large. You hear the noise, and turn to me.

"Severus? Are you crying?"

I don't know how to answer that. Normally the occasion would call for sarcasm, but I have no capacity for sarcasm at this moment. Not in this setting--it would feel blasphemous. All I can do is swallow again and look into the sunset myself.

I don't see you come close to me; I only feel your soft, gentle hand slip into mine. I look in your eyes, and you're about to cry as well, but I have never seen you smile so radiantly.

You reach out with your other hand to cup my chin, and draw me into a kiss. I wrap my arms around you, and I found I cannot make a sound. Not even a moan. And my heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest.

You have saved my life.

I could stand here forever, in this moment of perfection.

After many moments, we pull away, and I see tears on your cheeks. My own eyes are also wetted--but I don't know if the tears are yours or mine.

"I suppose I was crying."

That makes you grin.

"You know, I think I can see part of the altar over here," you say, pointing behind you. You take my hand and lead the way. It's stripped down to the bare wall, but sure enough, it looks to be what is left of the altar. Or at least it has that air of gravitas, the central point of operations, if you will.

"I, Hermione Granger, take this man, Severus Snape, to be my lawfully wedded husband, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, by the grace of Merlin and the Gods themselves, for all eternity," you pronounce, not without a gleam in your eye, while clasping my hand and gazing at the altar.

"I, Severus Snape, take this woman, Hermione Granger..." I say, repeating your words. "Even though she's mixing words from Muggle and wizarding wedding vows."

You laugh--this was the effect I'd hoped for. "Severus, you're being irreverent."

"No, not really, Not at all." I turn you around to face me. "I'm merely injecting a little levity into this moment."

"I never said I minded it," you say, smiling and gazing deep into my eyes. "I think Merlin and the Gods are gracing us just the same."

And then you draw me into a kiss, deeper than the last one. The scents of the landscape, and of you, fill my head, leaving no room for worries. We are suspended in time, and now lit up bright orange.

As we pull away, you say, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

"And I've already kissed the bride, but I will gladly do so again. And again, and again..." I pull you to me and do exactly that. By the time we break apart, the sun has disappeared.

"I can't think of words to describe how I feel right now, Severus."

"Neither can I, but maybe I can say it this way. Give me your hand." You do, and I take out my wand, point it at your ring finger, and whisper, "Diamas."

A bluish-white glow surrounds your finger, which fades to reveal a burnished silver ring with one large emerald. You gasp and hold your hand up to your face for a closer look. Around the emerald are four tiny diamonds.

"Severus--!"

As you gaze into my eyes, I see that you are really crying now--one tear track running freely from each eye.

"Considering where we are, I just felt this was the perfect time." I take a deep breath before I say: "Hermione, will you marry me?"

You need a deep breath of your own--but when you speak, there is nothing at all hesitant about your words.

"Yes, Severus, yes! Yes!"

THE END