Authors note: It has been so long since I've written a Christmas story! It just felt right to post this with the holiday quickly approaching! It is completely separate from 'Tomes', and it just a sweet little one shot to pass the time. Reviews and suggestions are always appreciated, and I hope everyone's holiday season is going wonderful. I will see you all again soon!

~C.B.

*Viscum Album*

It was a rather stupid and useless plant really.

Why the Druids worshiped it was far beyond him, and he poked at it listlessly with his wand. It had been left on his doorstep this morning, and he'd been pondering it ever since. Severus knew its entire noms de plume: Herbe de la Croi, bird lime, all heal, devil's fuge, golden bough...each name stupider than the rest. The irony it had been left on his doorstep in particular was an even worse stab in the back as everyone who knew him would be aware he had no use for it. While it did have certain medicinal properties he could implement in several potions, it was also considered poisonous if administered in an improper dosage. Not that he would be that thick. He'd used it many times before and had seen great success for those who needed help conceiving or had stiff joints. Just the thought that some daft individual would even consider that he could need this parasitic little plant for those possible reasons made him bristle. How would they know if he was infertile or not? His left knee ached on cold mornings, but it was due to an old Quidditch injury from his teen years. And his fertility was none of anyone business (thank you very much). But IF someone asked, he would be sure to make a cutting jab about how his swimmers were in excellent form. This insignificant little twig was some kind of insult, and sooner or later he would find out who left it, and return the favor in full.

Miss Granger was always perfectly punctual, except of course on this morning. Severus scowled out the frosted window facing the street and waited impatiently like every morning for his apothecary partner to arrive. Though it was true she was only late by two minutes and thirty three seconds, it was unlike her. Where could she be? Did she not know he had far more important things to do than stand around and watch for her? The nerve of some witches. In his chagrin, he had to admit that she was a good witch indeed. The woman certainly knew how to brew a decent potion and handle the books. She had always been meticulous, and for this reason the two of them got along quite well. True, he often found her bothersome and pestering, but he'd grown accustomed to her company and even allowed her to occasionally call him by his first name, an honor not given to many. He wasn't a 'Professor' anymore, and when she said Snape it just sounded wrong. Sometimes she called him Sir or Professor simply out of old habit, but inside he knew that when she called him by his first name it just felt…well…good. Normal. Strangely natural.

Finally he saw a thin figure emerge from the falling snow on the street and make her way up the short path to his front door, bundled heavily in her burgundy wool pea coat, black scarf and hat. She would have been just another pedestrian to him except for the mass of brown curls that fluffed out under her hat and over her shoulders. As she raised her hand to open the door, he flung it open and put on his best scowl, "You-are-late." He made sure to perfectly pronounce every word, and added some extra bite on the end for effect.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, "What? No I'm not."

Severus turned and motioned with his hand for her to come inside, "Enough of your incessant babble. You are wasting my time. Get to work."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. It was going to be one of those days. She stepped in, clomped her boots on the floor to get rid of the accumulated snow and hung her coat and hat on the rack beside the door of Spinners End.

"Miss Granger!" Severus snapped from the next room which also served as his store room, "Hurry up. We do not have all day!"

"COMING!" she hollered back. In the two years she had worked beside him Hermione had learned that the only way to deal with her former professors prickly nature was to be prickly in return. While an unorthodox method, it seemed to work most of the time. Working for him had both its benefits and trials. He paid surprisingly well, almost double what she would have received working for a larger apothecary. Often he would cook dinner or would take her out for food when their work was done. Through the years, her former potions professor had tamed some of his meaner nature, and in his place was a brilliant, if not lonely man who simply wanted to live.

When she found him he was standing in front of his desk and appeared to be highly invested in observing a specimen. Hermione walked up beside him and noticed the sprig sitting on the hard wooden tabletop, "That's a nice bundle of mistletoe." She observed, shooting him a small smile, "Saving it for someone?"

Severus made a disgusted grunt, "Ugly little thing, isn't it? Some fool decided to leave it on my doorstep this morning; no doubt some insolent troglodyte I used to teach."

Hermione picked it up and examined it, "I don't think it's so bad Severus. What do you think it means?"

He snatched it from her fingers and threw it back down on the table, "It's an insult of course. What else could it be? I certainly have no use for it."

"Now, now," Hermione smirked, "You do know what mistletoe signifies right?"

"Of course I do. It's a pest; it grows and feeds on the host plant. It can be used in medicines. I'm not stupid."

To Severus's annoyance, Hermione began to laugh. She patted his arm in a way that made his heart flip-flop (an annoying palpitation he would tell himself) and left the room leaving him even more annoyed than before.

When he rose the next morning there were two new bundles of mistletoe sitting in the snow outside his door. Severus begrudgingly picked them both up and took them inside to join the one he'd received the day before. He puzzled over them for the next hour or so before Hermione let herself in and saw him in much the same position he'd been in the day before.

"Ah, it seems as though your friend has left you another message." She said, standing behind his shoulder.

He paused for a moment, and spoke his next sentence carefully, "Do you really think so? I don't find it funny, you see," he continued quietly, "If it is a joke, it's very cruel. I know the other meaning of mistletoe. It's a silly tradition by the way and one I hope you don't participate in. It makes me realize that I am alone. I don't mind it, in fact I prefer it. I have no friends, and that is how I wish to remain."

The exhale of breath from Hermione surprised him, and for some reason he refrained from turning around to face her.

"What about me?" her voice was quiet, composed. Fake.

Severus was suddenly very aware of his shoulders rising with the intake of his breath, of the suddenly deep feeling in his stomach. Guilt was an emotion he was used to and had lived with for most of his life; but still when it reared its head it caused his walls to go up, and his heart to close. Of course she was his friend, she was the only one who could deal with his moodiness and flashes of anger. She was his near constant companion, and would willingly eat supper with him. She was also undeniably beautiful, and Severus had reluctantly come to the conclusion he was attracted to her, both her personality and her outside beauty. Maybe even more than that. Perhaps it was love. Love was a complicated emotion, and it had dragged him to near death and back. He had the scars to prove it. Would he do anything Hermione asked of him? Yes. Would he die for her? Yes. As much as he wanted to tell her anything and everything she wanted to hear, and despite every instinct pulling inside him to spin around and face her and take back those words and tell her the feelings gnawing at his heart, he still refused to turn around. "You are-"he started, "my assistant, you-"

Before he could finish, another breath from her, "Yes, I am." The sound of footsteps and the door to his store room closing finally caused him to turn his head. The room was empty. And suddenly so was he.

There were three sprigs that next morning. He left them where he found them. Hermione barely spoke to him that day. Severus convinced himself it was because she had not slept well the night before, or maybe her monthly had struck. He said good morning to her and tried to make small conversation. She nodded in return with a smile and responded appropriately. But it was fake, and for some reason it bothered him. She was angry. Worse, she was angry with him.

After she left, he went out and collected the mistletoe that had frozen together in a large icy clump and laid it beside the others. He wondered if Hermione had kissed anyone under that stupid plant before. The thought unnerved him, and he tried not to think about it anymore.

There were four the next day. That night he decided to leave a note. It read:

To whomever is leaving parts of dead plants on my doorstep,

I request you cease and desist in leaving your offerings. They are becoming a nuisance, and I will be forced to leave a rather unpleasant wart hex for you if you step on my property. Where they will appear will be a surprise.

S. Snape

There was a bouquet of mistletoe hanging from his doorknocker. Stunned, Severus looked for any signs of footprints in the snow. There were none. Shaking his head with undignified rage, he ripped it off and threw it on the ground. It was at that moment Hermione arrived. She raised a single eyebrow at him and began to laugh, "Difficulties this morning?" she asked, brushing past him. As she entered the door, her shoulder brushed against his arm. It was an innocent touch, and lasted for only a fraction of a second, but the heat left behind had Severus fumbling with his collar as the door to his home shut with a clack.

Several hours passed by in near silence as the two worked side-by-side. Hermione was grinding dried ingredients in a mortar while Severus kept an eye on a cauldron that looked like it was about to bubble over. Normally, Granger would be babbling non-stop about anything and everything; what she ate for dinner the night before, that she had heard from Harry the other day, or that it was cold and could she please cast a warming charm? Severus wouldn't deny that constant chatter annoyed him, and more often than not he would snap at her to keep quiet. Today though, he was alarmed to find that he missed it. Against his usual nature (and better judgment), he cleared his throat and asked quietly without looking at her, "You are angry at me, are you not?"

The grinding noise beside him paused for a moment and then picked back up to its normal speed, "No."

Severus rolled his eyes, and cast a sideways glance at her, "That was a lie if ever I've heard one. You may have well as just said 'fine.' Isn't that what your gender tells those they are angry with?"

The grinding noise became a little harsher, "Those of my gender take others feelings into account."

"So, that's a yes then?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and shoved her work away from her, finally turning to meet his Severus's dark eyes, "I am NOT angry with you. I'm frustrated. You don't get it."

Severus frowned, "What do I not get Miss Granger? You've hardly spoken a word to me since the incident regarding the mistletoe. If I have offended your sensibilities regarding an insignificant little plant, that is of no fault of my own. You must either grow a thicker skin, or put aside your silly notions. It is a cruel prank, nothing more."

She laughed at him, and put her face in her hands, "Oh Severus…"

Irritation bristled the hair on the back of his neck, "Miss Granger, I do not find this game amusing,"

Chuckling, Hermione stood and reached for her coat which were hanging on the back of the chair, "Professor, someone out there is leaving you a pretty big sign. Instead of cocooning yourself in a little cave, perhaps you should try to figure out who it is and see what they really want."

Alarmed, he went to rise from his chair as she pulled her arms through her sleeves and began to head for the door, "Where are you going? We haven't finished our work. I was going to request your company for dinner-"

Hermione spun around to face him. Though she was good at hiding her emotions, Severus knew her well enough to realize there was hurt written across her face, "Home, Professor. I'm going home. It's my weekend. I'm tired and I can't concentrate. Plus, it's already six o'clock and it is my time to leave."

A quick glance at the clock confirmed that, and Severus felt his heart drop, "Oh," he murmured, "So it is. Well, in that case goodnight Miss Granger."

She paused, opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. There was something there she wanted to say, Severus knew, but instead of pushing he settled back in his chair and went back to watching the cauldron. The sound of her footsteps was the only goodbye he got from her that night.

There was no mistletoe on his doorstep the next morning. Instead of feeling the relief he thought he would, Severus found himself with a small ache of disappointment. Though a ridiculous gift, those aggravating little sprigs were the only ones he had received in a long time. It didn't help that Miss Granger had the day off so he was alone in his old, creaky home. As was per usual, he sat in his study in his well-worn plush armchair twirling that ridiculous little plant between his fingers. He's never really noticed how green the leaves were, nor did how pure white the small berries tucked within the foliage glowed. It was only then he noticed the glint of brown between the stems, wound wildly between them. Carefully, he took the end of what he originally though was a spider wed and pulled. Severus's dark eyes widened in surprised when he realized he held a long, very brown, and very curly strand of hair. The gears in his mind suddenly kicked to life and he realized what Hermione had been trying to tell him all along.

Hermione Granger sat in her comfies on her cream colored couch; a cup of tea on her table and a book open under her nose. Her wild, curly hair was wound into a bun and was still slightly damp from her bath. She was trying very hard not to think about Severus today. It was aggravating enough that for being one of the most ingenious men she had ever come across he was also incredibly dim when it came to feelings. The mistletoe had been worth a shot; it had been rather easy to leave. Who else did he know that was allowed to pass through his home wards? That note he had left was ridiculous. Warts indeed.

The emotions she had begun to feel for him had been slow, he certainly was no male model nor was he emotionally available. But it was those same qualities that had attracted her to him. That large nose that other called "beaky" she found proud and distinguished. His pale skin she thought looked like the finest porcelain. The black of his hair and the black of his eyes were dramatic and fierce, definitely something she found appealing. It didn't hurt that he was tall, lean and had a voice that could melt diamonds. His stand-offish attitude didn't bother her like it did most; she had many of the same qualities. Their intelligence and blood persuasion made them targets so in that respect they were very much alike. In fact, she was almost positive he felt the same way about her. She'd more than once caught him watching her work, and she was very aware he would stand at the window and wait for her every morning. Just the fact he let her into his home at all should have been a neon sign to anyone within a fifty mile radius. The only person who didn't seem to see it was Severus.

A soft knock on the door caused her to start. She quickly placed her book on the table and went to the door. When she opened it, she found Severus standing on the other side, dressed casually in gray wool trousers and a black jumper.

"Hello." He said.

Hermione blinked several times and finally managed, "Oh, good morning! Severus, what are you doing here? Did I forget something at work?"

Severus reached into his front pocket and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe. He held it out to her, dangling it in front of her face, "Yes, I think you did."

The heat rose in Hermione's face, and she knew she was as red as a tomato, "Oh. Yes. Well, I see you've figured it out then."

Severus raised a dark eyebrow, "I did. Care to explain?"

She sighed, leaning heavily against her door frame and crossing her arms, "I didn''t mean for it to be taken so wrong. It was just... I'm sorry."

"Mmm," Severus nodded, dark eyes burning into hers, "Indeed it was. You've apologized, but you still haven't explained. Why?"

Hermione took in a shaky breath and looked guiltily down at the floor. She couldn't bear the weight of his stare any longer, "Because…"

"Yes?" his voice was deep, even deeper than normal, "Of all the witches in the world Miss Granger, why you?" there was hurt there, in his words. Hermione realized with some anger that he still didn't get it. The stupid man didn't understand.

Her eyes snapped to his, and with ferocity she spat, "Because I wanted you to kiss me you ridiculous prick!" Severus's eyes went wide. There. She had said it, let him do with that what he would. Despite the voice in the back of her head that warned her to stop talking, she continued, "After all this time you didn't even ONCE consider that the ridiculous little sprig I left for you could mean I wanted you to kiss me. That you were WANTED. That you were CARED about. Severus Snape you are one of the stupidest men I have ever met!" and with that, Hermione Granger slammed the door in his face, sat down on her floor, and cried.

Severus Snape stood on the other side of Hermione Granger's door, mistletoe still dangling from two fingers and helplessly listening to Hermione sob behind the piece of wood separating them. To say he was angry would be mild. The impudence of that woman to slam the door in his face. The arrogance to speak to him in the way that she did! She knew nothing of his feelings, and he realized with some shame that he never knew hers either. The fury he felt faltered when he finally realized what she had just spoken to him,

"You were WANTED… you were CARED about… I wanted you to kiss me…"

"Kiss me…"

"Kiss-"

Like a man possessed Severus threw the mistletoe to the floor and banged heavy handed on Hermione's door, "Hermione! Open the door this instant!" his voice was harsh and desperate, and it took several loud bangs before she finally opened the door for him.

She was frowning at him, her eyes red rimmed and still glistening with tears, "What-" and before she could finish Severus grabbed and pulled her in by the elbow, smashing her mouth against his. Severus breathed in her exhale of surprise, and it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. With a groan he pushed her against the doorframe, his lips working in ways he had never imagined they could move. To his surprise she seemed just as eager, her small hands winding into his black hair and pulling him closer.

Severus pulled away, his breath coming in short pants, "I get it, I want you. I love you. I always have."

Hermione's smile was a million watts as she grabbed his hair again and pulled his mouth back down to hers, "I know, I love you too. Kiss me again."

He did just that.

The End.

Authors Note part two: Fun fact, Viscum Album is the scientific name for the European strain of Mistletoe. Happy holidays!