Hurrah - from Friday I have 2 weeks off over the Christmas period! This will give me ample time to write and relax, which is a welcome change! I will be continuing All Breakages Must be Paid for of course but this festive little number decided it had to be written too. Yup, there be 'lemons' but for now, here is the first part.

Hermione leaned against the side of the Great Hall and watched the dancers twirl round and round. The huge tree took centre place on the dais at the front of the room. It was trimmed to perfection as it always was but the cheer was a little lost on her. Even the twinkling lights and the dancing decorations did little to lift her mood. She nursed a glass of red, the same one she'd had all night, and let out a sigh. The bitter sweet memories of this time of year always made her melancholy. Always at Christmas, when everyone else was wrapped up in their families and their loved ones did she feel the keen sting of loss. She wasn't even sure why she bothered coming to these events really. Perhaps it was to keep Minerva's nose out of her business. The well-meaning headmistress was insistent that she keep a public profile and if she hid for too long, she'd start meddling.

The witch meant well and it wasn't as though she was a complete hermit. Since she'd started working at the ministry, she found her life revolved around her work. She knew it probably wasn't healthy and that she should make more of an effort to get out but she loved what she did. Most of it was office based but when she did manage to get out in the field on a case, it was so exciting. Her team was currently working on finding the location of the last pocket of Death Eaters. They'd made a break through a couple of days ago and the thought of going after them finally sent a shiver through her.

Her eyes swept the room once more; so many colours swirled from the dancers on the floor. A myriad of colours painting the hall with joy as the couples turned and twisted skilfully. Dancing wasn't something she had much patience for. While Ron had been alive, they'd danced together with abandon but now, now he was gone she couldn't conjure the enthusiasm for it. The thought of someone else's arms around her was just… well it wouldn't feel right. Even a year on from his death, she still felt the keen sting of loss. She took a small sip of the red liquid and turned her eyes away, trying to banish the memories from her mind.

"Come now Granger, it can't be that bad." Ah, here it came, the verbal sparring that was a sort of tradition between her and her erstwhile potions professor. She looked up into cold black eyes and snorted.

"I don't see you joining the dancers." Her retort was lame and he knew it. The raised brow and the arrogant flick of his head gave it away.

"I thought I was the chief mope at these functions but I find that you're putting even me to shame, even I manage to drink until I can bear it." He raised his wine glass and joined her in leaning against the wall and scowling at everyone who walked by. She looked over him sidelong and he smirked under her scrutiny. He was tall, yet not as tall as she remembered and had he bothered to wash that oily hair? He hadn't made any effort to change his usual dour garb. Still, she could smell the cologne he wore, subtle sandalwood, it put her in mind of something but she couldn't quite remember what it was.

She raised her glass with his and smirked, "To Christmas then?" He nodded, clinked his glass on hers before sipping the wine.

Her eyes turned back to the dancers and she let out a small sigh. Despite the fact she hated them all, the music was off, the colours were gaudy and half of them were too busy fondling or snogging each other to really dance, she was jealous. She scratched the side of her head with a long finger and shook her head, she must be getting sentimental.

"Do you wish to dance Granger?"

"Are you offering Snape?" she asked back, knowing full well that he would never condescend to do so himself.

"There's a lad over there that's been staring at you all evening, I'm sure he wouldn't mind doing so." There was a smirk on his face and she shook her head.

"If he wants to dance, he can come and bloody ask me," she snapped back. She took another sip of wine and straightened up somewhat. Despite her rebuttal, she looked over at the boy. That's all he was, nothing more than sixteen if she had to guess and that was far too young for her tastes. "Besides, he's far too young!"

"Interested in older men now are we?"

Hermione nearly spat her mouthful of wine over him as he raised a brow. Was he flirting with her? She rather thought he was. "Older than twelve!" she snapped back before she could think any further on the subject of Professor Snape flirting.

"Then how about that fellow over there?" He indicated another student who looked a little too green for her liking.

"He'd likely puke down my back and quite frankly, that's an experience I would like to avoid," she replied.

"You really are hard to please…" he muttered as he took another sip of wine. "I'm afraid the rest of the crowd are either otherwise engaged or ancient."

"Oh come now, not all of them are ancient, I think I'd settle on merely decrepit…" This time, it was her who raised a brow and he who looked to be choking on his wine. "Unless you care to prove to me that you haven't yet reached that stage?"

"You want me to turn you round that floor?" his narrowed eyes gave nothing away and she flushed a little.

"Why not? No one else is going to ask and I do believe you have a point to prove, old man." Her mouth tugged into a smile as he took her glass from her and placed it on the table beside him. He didn't say anything else merely took her hand and led her to the dancefloor. Once there, he placed a firm hand on her waist, the other he held gently. When the band struck up the next tune, she found herself moving around the floor in time with the other dancers.

The ability of the dark man who held her so firmly came as a surprise and it wasn't long before she was relaxed and enjoying the turns and twists of the dance. Although he kept the distance between them sensible and chaste, she couldn't help feel a surge of warmth at his proximity. His scent, not only the sandalwood but his own musky maleness engulfed her senses and she found her breathing quickening.

"Now who is getting too old for dancing?" he whispered as he dipped her into a spin.

"Pardon?" she asked as she stepped a little closer to him. "I didn't hear what you said."

"Liar," he snorted. She smirked, giving herself away but noted that he didn't pull away when she'd moved in. The song slowed and she found that instead of parting and returning to the side of the floor like they should have, he continued to hold her. The touch of his hand on the small of her back supported her more than she realised and slowly, tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder. When he didn't pull away, she slipped her arms up his back and relaxed. The dancing turned into a slow rocking that had their bodies moving in unison.

The music stopped and after a pause that was a little longer than strictly necessary, she reluctantly pulled away. He kept his hand on the small of her back and guided her back to their leaning spot. Once there, she took her glass of wine and took a sip, just to cool her flaming cheeks, she told herself.

"Well?" he said. She looked across at him and noted his smug expression. Her smile crept back onto her face and she nodded.

"Not bad for an old duffer!" she replied before taking another sip of wine. He rolled his eyes dramatically and drained his glass. A laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head, "It was lovely Severus. I've not danced like that for a long time."

"First name terms now are we?"

"I've not been your student for a few years now; it seems a bit ridiculous if you ask me." He conceded her point and she too drained her glass.

"So then, Hermione, what do you plan to do for the rest of the detestable evening?"

"Leaving." She placed her glass down on the table and shrugged. An unnamed emotion flickered through his dark eyes for a moment before he nodded.

"I see."

She looked him up and down and smirked, "Well, are you coming with me or is this party so enthralling that you can't tear yourself away?" Hermione didn't wait to see the look on his face or to see whether he followed her. She strode forwards towards the door and left the kids and teachers to their revelry. When she reached the main entrance, she paused and took a deep breath. Sure footsteps behind her made her pause. What the hell was she doing? She ran a hand over her face and through her thick hair, pushing it back from her face. As soon as he'd caught up to her, she darted out the door and into the cold air, maybe that would clear her thoughts.

After a moment, she stopped and shivered, her evening gown wasn't the best gear to be walking around in the cold. The sky was clear and the night was still. "Where are we going?" he asked as he drew alongside her.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Hermione-" She cut him off with a gesture and shook her head. A shiver passed through her and she folded her arms over her chest. In less than a moment, he'd engulfed her in his arms, "Silly girl," he whispered into her hair. A small smile crossed her face and she let herself be held for a long moment. When she tried to pull back, he held on to her for a moment.

"What are we doing Severus?" she whispered. Somehow, between the Great Hall and here, she'd lost her way. She glanced up and caught his black eyes, an unknown emotion glittered in them and she swallowed hard. His embrace was far more comforting than she could imagine, his scent hit her once more and her legs began to tremble. The way his black hair fell over his face, the feeling of his rough woollen frock coat under the tips of her fingers and the way his wine-sweet breath tickled her cheek was enough to make her flush. The realisation that she desired this man hit her and she returned his embrace.

"I don't know Hermione," he replied softly. Carefully, with a shaking hand, she reached up and ran the tips of her icy fingers along his cheek, "Merlin! You're freezing!" he cursed. She couldn't help but giggle.

"Get me to the apparition point and I'll take us home." Her point was emphasised by a delighted squeeze that she placed on his waist.

"Home?"

"My flat's going to be damned cold now."

"And what am I to do about that?" he asked. She began to argue the point but her tucked her hand under his arm and led her away from the castle.

"I'll make coffee for a start."

"And then?"

"We'll drink it."

"Obviously…"

"I'm sure we'll talk and I have a nice blanket which we can keep warm under." Hermione said. They'd reached the gates and she stopped him with a squeeze on his bicep. She caught his eyes again when he turned to face her and that trembling in the back of her knees started all over again. How had she never noticed the depths of those eyes before? Her eyes flicked down his face to his thin lips, her own parted slightly. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. She tiled her head a little in order to get a better view of his striking features, his nose was large, true and maybe his skin was a little pale but the emotion rolling through his eyes left her shaking.

"Come on, you're shaking with cold, get us there quickly," he hissed. The bite of his words was taken out by the firm squeeze he gave her hand. She shook her head, clearing it of the thoughts that rocketed through her and focused on her home. Releasing the magic, a crack sounded and they stood in the centre of her flat.