A/N: Hello all! Sorry for the late update, I hope you like it!

Chapter 10 'Tis The Season

December came to Grimmauld Place, catching its inhabitants by surprise. With Hermione and Severus working so diligently on their potions project, Molly had decided that her mothering presence was no longer needed full time, and had taken to spending most weeks at the Burrow, preparing for her children to return over the fast approaching holidays. On this particular December morning, Severus had left to buy groceries, and so Hermione found herself sitting by the window with a warm mug of tea.

The snow was quickly accumulating outside, and while the silence would have been peaceful to anyone else, Hermione was filled with anxiety and dread. It was the first time she had be left alone in the house since her parents had died, and she found that she missed the quiet sounds that came from living with Professor Snape. The lack of footsteps, the lack of the clinking of the tea kettle, the lack of creaking, all of this lead to an overwhelming silence that smothered Hermione. Her breath came quicker and her heart picked up its pace as she felt a familiar sense of panic set in.

These panic attacks had slowed down as the murder of her parents slipped into the past, but every now and then, they still reared their ugly head. The mug of the tea fell to the floor, spilling its contents, as Hermione gripped both arms of the chair until her knuckles turned white. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried counting backwards from 100 in a desperate attempt to calm down, trying desperately to ignore the buzzing sound that was filling her ears.

100…99…98…97….

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes flew open and the buzzing stopped as she found herself staring straight into Professor Snape's black eyes.

No, not black, she thought. They're brown, at least in this light. The color of freshly-brewed coffee.

"Professor, I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," she sputtered, reaching with shaking hands to pick up the fallen tea mug. Professor Snape frowned at the obvious tremors in her hand and non-verbally vanished the spilled tea, taking her hands into his own.

"How long have these panic attacks been happening?" He asked softly. Hermione was taken aback by his sudden gentleness, and by how warm his hands were.

"Since, well, that night. My parents."

Snape nodded pensively to himself.

"In the muggle world, they are sorely behind on treatments for post-traumatic stress disorder. The wizarding world has been far more fortunate. I will brew something to take care of those for you tonight." He raised an eyebrow, looking for approval. When she nodded in agreement, he continued. "Now, I did pick up food items for the next week, but I also stopped in Diagon Alley to pick up a few potions ingredients. While I was there, I saw something I thought you'd…appreciate. I took the liberty of bringing it here. Allow me to retrieve it."

Snape got up from his kneeling position and walked from the room.

He looks so different when he's dressed for the muggle world – slacks and oxfords really do suit him. I must insist he shop in muggle London more often.

Something very warm brushed against Hermione's leg, and when she looked down to inspect it, she screamed in delight.

"CROOKSHANKS!"

Hermione scooped the purring ball of orange fur into her arms and held him close, relishing in having her familiar once again. Tears pricked at her eyes as she looked up at her professor, who was giving her the closest thing he could call a smile.

"I thought, it might make things…easier." He said, sounding almost sheepish as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

The next thing he knew, his arms were full of Hermione Granger, who was whispering 'thank you's in between sobs. Severus allowed himself to wrap his arms around her and rest his chin on her curls, reveling in the feeling of another human.

I could get used to this.

In the few days that followed, Hermione and Severus didn't see each other very often. Molly Weasley had returned to Grimmauld Place with a plan: a plan to throw the best Christmas party of all time. And though it wasn't quite the 'best Christmas party of all time', Molly Weasely did through a Christmas party, and the 24th of December found Hermione and Severus surrounded by various Order members, an excess of good food and alcohol, and an underlying desire to run away from it all. Crowds had always made Severus nervous, and though Hermione was enjoying having other people around, her anxiety was elevated. However, she found that each alcoholic drink she consumed squashed down her nervousness a bit, so like any good scientist would, she decided to find out if alcohol could wipe it away completely.

She was four drinks in when she noticed Professor Snape slip out the side door, Molly, who was appalled and frightened that she had offended the man that she thought of like another son, sent Hermione after himm.

"Not trying to escape, are you?"

Snape whirled around and observed Hermione warily.

"Merlin, can't a man get a moment of peace around this place?"

Hermione covered her mouth in a sad attempt to smother her giggles. Snape raised an eyebrow at her. Giggles, Miss Granger? Maybe you have had a few too many to drink.

"Normally, yes, but not at a Christmas party, especially not one thrown by Molly Weasley! She sent me looking for you, she was horrified that she had offended you in some way."

The side of his mouth turned up at that, giving her that half smile that she had grown so fond of.

"Molly Weasley could never offend me. That woman has been more of a mother to me than my own ever was. I just rather wanted a smoke, actually. There's far too many people here. I never was one for parties. Care to join?" He held the pack of cigarettes out to her in invitation. She smiled warmly at him, but shook her head.

"No, thank you. Never could get over the smell." Snape nodded and slipped the pack back into his coat pocket. The people in the next room roared with laughter suddenly, as if someone had just told an extremely funny joke.

"You should get back there," he said, gesturing to the drawing room. "They'll be wondering why you're away."

"Of course," she agreed, beginning to turn away. Suddenly, Hermione was filled with a sense of great purpose, as if she was standing upon a precipice and something very important was just about to happen. She turned around just in time to grab the sleeve of Snape's coat and tug him around so he faced her. The world became blurry, but this time, it wasn't from the alcohol. She had stood very closely to Snape several times when they were working on potions, but never face to face. Hermione was suddenly aware of many things; how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, and the faint scent of the potions lab that was clinging to his clothes. As she looked up at him, caramel eyes met onyx, and she knew that she was doing the right thing. With bated breath and a speeding heart, she pushed herself forward until her lips collided with his.

At first, nothing happened. They both stayed perfectly still; Hermione in fear and Snape in shock. But then, ever so slightly, Snape began to move. He kissed her gently, his warm, dry lips moving softly at first, but then with a underlying tone of urgency that made Hermione melt against him. His hands came up to cup her jaw as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed there for a moment longer, with nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing filling the air. Finally, Hermione stepped back and bestowed Snape with a beaming smile.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered, and with a quick glance to the doorframe above them, she darted from the room and back into the party.

Snape, filled with confusion and joy and guilt and all manner of emotions, looked up to where she had looked, and smiled to himself.

Mistletoe. You insufferable witch.