Christmas Eve saw the school curiously empty as the bulk of students had buggered off home. Amelia made a point of waving off the majority of the Weasley family, mostly to ensure that the twins really were going home. She'd sternly instructed Ginny to run rings around her elder brothers and received a particularly evil grin from the small witch. It was clear that the youngest Weasley would also be one to watch in future.

She spent the morning relaxing in one of the least dangerous greenhouses with Poppy and Pomona; they were joined around lunchtime by Minerva and Eveline Vector, the wife of the Arithmancy Professor, and the five of them enjoyed an excellent cream tea lunch – apparently a tradition for the mistresses of Hogwarts – while discussing current events*.

Once her Christmas presents had been delivered to Argus Filch, the gruffest and least likely Santa Claus that she could ever have imagined, she headed down to the kitchens in order to arrange the 'traditional' provisions for the night before Christmas. After wishing the eager elves a Merry Christmas she headed back to the upper echelons of the castle.

Remembering the conversation of the previous evening, she detoured to Remus's rooms, which turned out to be empty once she'd reached them. Leaving a note explaining her plans she wandered back to her rooms to decorate. Whilst hanging some origami fairy lights above her window (and fondly recalling late nights in the old Mill buildings back at Uni') she spied Hermione, Ron and Harry leaving Hagrid's cottage. She was glad that Hermione had the boys to be with these days.

0o0

Remus wandered in around mid afternoon and was cheerfully pressed into service decorating her rooms – knowing a few more spells than Amelia, he charmed a string of coloured lights to hover delicately above the small tree she had up in a corner. He seemed truly bewildered at her seasonal enthusiasm as the elves set out the food on a rickety table. Amelia laughed at him and told him that he was very cute when he was confused; he'd blushed so hard he'd matched the red of the poinsettia adorning the wreath on the door, which of course made Amelia laugh all the harder.

Hermione and her friends seemed a little down when they arrived, but Amelia received an 'I'll tell you later' look in answer to her questioning glance. After gorging themselves on salmon, walnuts, clementines and gingerbread during the first film (Ruthless People) and laughing themselves silly at the ending everyone was more cheerful and relaxed. Even Harry, who looked totally exhausted, managed the odd smile. During the second film, Amelia took out her knitting bag and swore loudly.

"Miss!" said Ron, greatly impressed.

"Oh, we're all friends here, Ron, just call me Mel." She turned to her cousin and declared, "There's a yarn in my knot!"

Hermione took hold of the proffered knitting bag and sighed. Amelia's yarn stash had apparently decided to mate with itself.

"Honestly, it's worse than tribbles in here…" she declared, earning confused looks from all but Amelia. Nevertheless, she delved into the bag and extricated several balls of wool to untangle. Very soon all five of them were contentedly puzzling their way through the intensely tangled yarn bag. Amelia realised, once it had all been packed away again, that she'd missed most of the film, instead being enthralled by Lupin's nimble fingers, working the threads beside her. Aware that there were three kids in the room she tried very hard not to speculate what those nimble fingers would feel like on her skin…

Hermione, who had noticed a certain lack of concentration on her cousin's part, gave her a dirty wink at the earliest opportunity, earning herself a stern glare. Turning back to the film (and genuinely trying not to snigger) she decided that Amelia's glares were more effective when she wasn't blushing.

The end of Shrek heralded a general reshuffling of positions as the five friends stretched their limbs and refilled their plates. Amelia emerged from her bedroom with a box of Lebkuchen, sent on by the infamous Aunty Bea, which Hermione, now lying on her front by the fire, happily began to munch through. Harry and Ron were sat on either side of her, almost protectively, their backs to the sofa, upon which Remus sat, cross legged, nursing a glass of wine. Amelia folded herself into the seat next to him, not quite close enough for them to be touching.

As Harry stood up to start the next film, Role Models, Remus and Amelia could feel the skin of their arms prickle where they had accidentally brush against one another. Amelia was trying to watch the film, laughing at all the inappropriate moments, but her mind was dwelling on the warmth in her arm as she again grazed against her fellow professor.

Now just imagine what they would feel like on your stomach, her mind taunted, and she quickly finished her glass of wine, trying desperately not to do just that.

For his part, Remus was struggling, once again, with the thought of Amelia sat on his desk, not wearing very much – an image that had fleshed itself out in his mind considerably since it had first occurred to him; this time, however, she had a ribbon tied about her wrist like a Christmas present.

The Amelia on the sofa beside him gulped down her wine and shifted a little, before topping up his glass, which he took a larger sip from. The Amelia in his mind bit her lip at him, seductively. Oh Gods…

Neither adult noticed Hermione, who was immensely amused by their inability to concentrate on anything other than each other (and the boys' inability to see any of it), slyly conjure a small garland of mistletoe above Amelia's door.

0o0

Remus lingered after the party had wound up and the kids had wandered off to bed. A little embarrassed by her feelings, Amelia chose to clear away her computer before turning, arms laden, to see him leaning against a nearby door joist, just watching her; his head was a little to one side in quiet contemplation.

"What?" she asked.

"I…" he met her eyes before looking away. "Let me help you." Together they carried the remains of the yarn and (to Remus's mind) the bizarre array of Muggle technology through to Amelia's room, where, equipment safely stowed, the pair experienced a second moment of awkwardness.

"I should be off, I suppose," he said, slowly making for the door.

"Yes… it is rather late…" Amelia replied, glancing at the clock. "…Remus?"

"Yes?" he answered, pausing by the door, one hand on the frame.

Amelia hesitated and her nerve failed.

"Er- Merry Christmas," she said, helplessly, turning back to her dresser and furiously cursing inside her own head.

"Amelia?"

"Yes?" she turned back to face him.

"I just wanted to thank you… it's been a lovely evening with you and the others. I haven't felt so, well, wanted at Christmas since… well it's been a long time… and..." he trailed off, staring at the floor in front of him.

Amelia, once again marvelling at the solitude that her colleague had been subject to, crossed to him and, not really knowing what else to do, gently ruffled his hair. He met her gaze and smiled sadly, her hand still resting on his shoulder.

Now if this were a film, dear reader, there would at this point be some poignant violin action, or at least a gentle piano melody as the two of them slowly moved in for a kiss; but as this is not, in fact a film…

At the last second Amelia, deafened by the sound of her own heartbeat and almost completely absorbed by the man in front of her, was instantly and entirely distracted by the bottommost leaves of Hermione's conspiratorial garland of mistletoe. Her head, following her gaze, shot up and she glared at the offending greenery, moment lost.

"Oh, I am going to kill her! No, maim her and then kill her!"

Remus, whose eyes had mirrored Amelia's in their journey skywards, burst out laughing, despite himself. Amelia, momentarily nonplussed, regarded him with alarm before she, too, dissolved into laughter.

"I-I'll help if you l-like," Remus managed, between sporadic (and inherently un-manly) giggles.

Amelia reached out an arm to steady herself and found Remus's shoulder.

"You know what would drive her really nuts?" she queried, gasping for breath. "If w-we did the same to her one d-day!"

Remus nodded, "We'll have to choose our moment carefully and th-th-then pounce!"

Sides aching with mirth and tears rolling down their cheeks, they held each other upright until the waves of merriment ceased.

Amelia sighed heavily and kissed Remus sweetly, intending to turn away in order to usher him off. Remus, whose eyes had fluttered closed as their lips had met, had other ideas. He gently pulled her back to him, once hand tangled in her hair, one delicately resting on the small of her back and kissed her again, tenderly but more firmly.

After several minutes they came up for air, faces flushed and hair tousled, and stood, bodies closely entwined, eyes met in new understanding until the cry of a distant night bird broke both their gaze and their embrace.

"…I really should go," Remus said, reluctantly. "My transformation…"

Amelia nodded and wished him a Merry Christmas before watching his retreating form move down the passage. Returning to her room she began to plot her cousin's demise in intense detail.

0o0o0o0

Just as Amelia's rooms had been festooned with the colours of the season, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up in the rest of the castle, despite the fact that hardly any of the students had remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour and the Great Hall was filled with it usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, making the stomachs of those remaining at Hogwarts rumble in anticipation.

On Christmas morning Amelia was woken by the memory of Remus's lips on hers and she dressed as if in a dream. Mentally scolding herself for drippiness, she applied herself to the first order of business for Christmas – the unwrapping of presents.

She was delighted to discover that Pomona had provided her with several jars of hard-to-obtain herbs, while Poppy Pomfrey had opted for a bottle of sparkling wine.

She received several excellent books from various staff members, including an unexpected but appreciated collection of 16th century ribald limericks from Dumbledore. She found herself blushing as she read through them, realising just what that twinkle behind his half-moon spectacles might represent and wondering whether she'd ever be able to meet his eyes again. Being once more amused by the general oddness of her employer, Amelia returned her attention to the few remaining packages. There was a beautiful shawl from Aunty Bea and an Egyptian 'Khet' game from Hermione; Molly Weasley, bless her, had provided her with a stack of peanut brittle and a pair of magnificently colourful socks.

Clearing away the majority of bright wrapping paper Amelia discovered two hitherto overlooked gifts, one wrapped in elegant silver and green wrapping paper the other more simply clad in brown packing paper. The former, from Severus, contained several packets of seeds ('For that garden you miss') and an apology ('Sorry I'm so bloody grumpy'); she was happy to find that he'd even remembered her favourites, Sweet Peas.

Amelia smiled. It seemed that her morose colleague was trying to mend their battered friendship; well, it was a start.

The second package contained a worn copy of Much Ado about Nothing. Inside the front cover was a slip of paper with the words:

'To my pleasant spirited lady, sent in the hopes of further sharpening that keen wit, from your Benedick'

Amelia, familiar with the play, bit her lip. It seemed that Remus really cared for her. An odd but not unpleasant feeling settled in her stomach as she began to turn the pages. Smiling to herself, she curled up in her windowseat and followed the thread of the words to Messina.

0o0

At lunchtime she went down to the Great Hall to find that the house tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middles of the room. Dumbledore, Minerva, Severus, Pomona, Filius and Argus were all there. Argus had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather mouldy-looking tail-coat. There were only five students: Hermione, Harry, Ron and two extremely nervous-looking first years.

Amelia greeted them brightly, thanking Hermione and her colleagues for their presents; Severus, ostensibly avoiding her gaze exchanged a brief nod and smile with her before recollecting his usual dour expression so as not to lose face in front of the students. He was wearing her gift, a black scarf with the occasional fleck of emerald green, and he would periodically rearrange it and smile.

Dumbledore happily showed off his knitted, knee-high, violently colourful socks to Minerva, who shook her head jovially and herself nodded at Amelia.

"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as her cousin and her friends approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables… sit down, sit down!"

The three of them sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver one to Severus, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Harry and Ron exchanged amused grins, as did Hermione and Amelia, who also noted that Pomona and Minerva were shaking with ill-contained silent mirth. The legend of Snape and the Boggart would clearly not be one that died quickly. Briefly assessing her colleagues she decided that Pomona and Filius were probably responsible for the hat; Filius winked at her in a conspiratorial fashion.

Severus's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat towards Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Tuck in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As Amelia was helping herself to gravy, the doors of the Great Hall swung open once more. It was Sybill Trelawney, gliding towards them as if on wheels. She had put on a green sequinned dress in honour of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversize dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," she said, in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

Crystal gazing my bottom, thought Amelia. It hadn't escaped her that the woman looked rather overdressed for a solitary luncheon, nor the way she'd looked at Severus, who, to her amusement, looked rather like a deer caught in the headlights of a particularly fast moving truck.

"Certainly, certainly, Dumbledore was saying, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair –"

And he did indeed draw a chair in mid-air with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Minerva and the stricken Severus. Sybill much to Amelia's surprise, did not sit down; her eyes had been roving around the table and suddenly she uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not Headmaster! If I join the table we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

Amelia felt her eyes roll involuntarily.

"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Minerva impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Sybill hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Minerva poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

Amelia attempted not to choke on her roast potato as she met Filius's eyes.

Sybill ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, helping himself to what Amelia could only assume was bread sauce. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" asked Minerva, a little too innocently, eyebrows raised.

Sybill gave her a very cold look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

Across from Amelia, Filius was sniggering into his bacon-wrapped sausages.

"That explains a great deal," said Minerva, tartly.

Amelia snorted into her roast dinner and quickly feigned a coughing fit on Dumbledore's stern glance; next to her, Severus was also trying not to smile – his eyes twinkled as she glanced up at him. At the other side of the table Pomona was biting her lip as Filius began to turn puce beside her.

Sybill's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him –"

"I'll bet he did," muttered Severus, under his breath.

"Imagine that," said Minerva, drily.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Minerva and Sybill's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Severus.

"Good," said Dumbledore. Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year Hufflepuff boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Sybill behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked, loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry. Amelia made a mental note to have a word with the boy about elocution.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Minerva coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Ron laughed; Sybill was glaring daggers at the older witch.

"Coming?" said Harry to Hermione.

"No," she muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

Minerva took Hermione to one side; Amelia, unable to contain her curiosity watched them and was beckoned over by the older witch.

Hermione was wringing her hands wretchedly.

"Go on, Miss Granger," Minerva encouraged.

"Well, it's just –" she looked Amelia, who frowned and nodded at her.

"Harry received a Firebolt this morning."

"Lucky bu-cough-boy," Amelia interjected.

Hermione nodded, "It's world class, really expensive. But it didn't say who it was from – I can't think of anyone who could afford to give him something like that…"

The expressions of the two older witches darkened considerably.

"Sirius Black," said Amelia, less a question now than a statement.

"Exactly!" exclaimed her cousin, "it's the one thing Harry won't be able to resist using, and if it's got some sort of dark magic on it…"

Minerva nodded, "We shall have to test it. Miss Granger, if you'll come with me." The two of them left the Great Hall looking determined.

Amelia turned back to the party to find Severus watching her hopefully; Sybill was once more attempting to engage him in flirtatious conversation, but he was doing his best to avoid her. Taking pity, Amelia sat down beside Trelawney and engaged her in a detailed discourse about her own astrology. Sybill, delighted that someone was finally taking an interest in her art entirely abandoned all attempt to attract favour from Snape and began to provide Amelia with a full analysis of her charts, jotting down notes on a hitherto concealed notebook.

After a while she looked at Amelia, frowning, and said, "But that can't be right… you're impossible."

"I beg your pardon?" said Amelia, a little unnerved by her colleague's sudden change in demeanour.

"Your charts suggest, my dear, that you're – no," she said, looking up at her. "I'll double check, my dear, no use worrying you."

Amelia marvelled at the irony of this statement, but decided not to dwell on this and forced a laugh. "What's my future then?"

Sybill turned back to her, "Your immediate future contains much trouble and unhappiness, I'm afraid; an old wound will be opened and you will come off the worse for it."

Amelia was left gaping after Trelawney, nonplussed.

0o0

Severus escorted her back to her rooms.

"Thank you for distracting Sybill," he said to her as they reached her door.

"Oh, it's nothing mate," Amelia smiled. "Thanks for the apology – the seeds will be lovely."

Severus smiled slightly, "There, you see? I do listen to people. Thank you for the scarf – how did you know that black was my colour?"

Amelia smacked him lightly on the arm as his evil grin developed.

"Perhaps I'm just psychic, my dear – schooled in the ancient and mystic arts," she continued, in a creditable impression of Sybill.

It was Severus's turn to smack her in the arm and they laughed.

"I suppose you'll be spending the evening with our lupine friend?" he asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

Amelia sighed, a little exasperated.

"What've you got against him anyway? Is it just the wolf thing or did you both fall for the same girl in school or something?"

A dark shadow crossed Severus's features.

"Amelia, just leave it, will you? We have contentedly hated one another for the better part of twenty years, you aren't going to change that now," he said in a tired voice.

As ridiculous as this sounded to her, she nodded, reflecting that there were a good few schoolmates that she could happily continue to detest until she died.

"Alright. But you have to be at least polite when I'm around. I value your friendship and enjoy your company – both of you – and I don't want to be constantly being the umpire in an endless bickering match."

"Fair enough," he conceded, pleased that their rekindled friendship wasn't going to suffer because of that bloody werewolf.

"I was just wondering if you'd care to join me for a game of chess or something, but if you're… otherwise engaged… we could do it tomorrow."

Amelia smiled, blushing very slightly at the direction his filthy mind had apparently taken.

"Sounds good, but I warn you, my chess skills will bewilder and bedazzle you."

"Oh yes? I happen to be the ex-Hogwarts champion, I'll have you know."

"And I'll have you know that I'm probably the worst player ever to have looked at a board."

Severus chuckled at her mischievous grin.

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow."

0o0o0o0

As Amelia settled down with one of her new books she reflected once more on the dire warnings that Sybill had so calmly proclaimed; frowning and with an effort, she cast them from her mind.

She had barely finished the first chapter when there was a knock at her door; marking her page, she crossed to it and it opened to reveal a frowning Snape.

On her questioning look he moved back slightly to reveal a shaking and tearful Hermione who was promptly pulled into a hug.

As Amelia hustled her cousin into her rooms, she indicated through means of wild sign language behind her back that Severus, who was hovering uncomfortably by the door, should put the kettle on.

Feeling that this was very much Amelia's area of expertise he gratefully and awkwardly did as he was told. Although dealing with crying young women was technically part of his job description he tended to deliver them to Madame Pomfrey after patting them ineffectually on the shoulder a few times.

As Hermione tearfully explained about the Firebolt and the boys' reactions to its stripping down, and Amelia rubbed her shoulders comfortingly, Severus hid in the corner of Amelia's living room devoted to the making of tea. He carried three mugs of steaming tea over to the sofa, and handed the one with four sugars to Hermione, having remembered something his mother had once told him about treatments for shock.

"And even before all this they were distant because Crookshanks tried to eat Scabbers, and now they h-h-hate me!"

Snape, a little flummoxed, mouthed 'Crookshanks?' over Hermione's head as the girl dissolved into a fresh wave of sobs.

'Hermione's cat tried to eat Ron's rat,' Amelia mouthed back.

'Ah.'

"Oh, come on Hermione, they're just being angry teenagers," she said, trying to get her cousin to look up.

"B-but if the b-broom is from Black, then-"

"Yes. Harry could be killed," she agreed, deciding that honesty would be the best approach.

Hermione looked up at her, shocked, perhaps, by hearing her fears spoken out loud so matter-of-factly.

"The thing about young lads – well young people in general – is that they think they're immortal," Amelia said, gauging her cousin's expression. "Oh sure, we've all heard of death, walked through graveyards, even seen it in our own families and all that, but we don't really get to understand properly until we're a little older. You remember when Aunty Bea was young she used to break in horses down at the riding stables?"

Hermione nodded, still sniffling, but calming down enough to listen.

"She used to fall all the time, even badly, but she'd always get right back up into the saddle until her Ernie died. The first time she fell after that she stopped riding for years – she's only got back into it recently."

"So?"

"So she realised how easy it was to die. Until he realises that, Harry won't fully understand the true danger that Black represents. Which is better, I suppose, than him jumping at everything that moves – but it does mean that he'll be angry with you for a while.

"You did the right thing though, and he's a smart boy, he knows that, it'll just take a bit for him to realise it."

"I suppose so," said Hermione, sniffling a little.

Amelia looked at Snape imploringly; he cleared his throat uncertainly.

"Er- yes. And as for Ron and his rat, boys are idiots at your age – they'll figure out that they miss you soon enough."

"Do you really think so?" Hermione had apparently forgotten that it was Snape she was talking to and was looking up at him with big eyes; behind her Amelia was nodding fervently.

"Well, you know my opinion of the two of them," he began, lip curling slightly. "But you seem to keep them out of a lot of the trouble that they are so good at getting themselves into. You're one of the most sensible and intelligent witches of your age that I've met in a long time, Miss Granger – no matter what I usually say – and as Amelia says, they know that too. The three of you will be thick as thieves and annoying the crap out of me again in no time," he finished, hoping that this would do the trick.

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds then despite, or perhaps because, this had come from someone who couldn't normally stand her, she nodded briskly and pulled herself together.

"Ok?" Amelia asked her, still concerned.

"M-yeah," she replied; Amelia was struck suddenly by how young she looked – she'd become so used to the tough-girl act that she'd almost forgotten her cousin's youth.

"Tell you what, why don't you have a wash, grab some of my old pyjamas and curl up here with a book?"

Hermione nodded and wandered off into Amelia's bedroom.

"Thanks," Amelia said, as soon as she was out of earshot; Severus shook his head.

"I found her outside the library. Is she going to be alright?"

Amelia nodded. "Maybe not right away, but she'll get there. What you said really helped."

"Well she is a good witch, despite her dubious choice of friends."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "they're good lads, Severus," she said, "and you could treat her with slightly less contempt."

"I'm working on it," he said, but frowned. "Potter will take more work however – his father and I… were often at odds with one another, and he resembles him so closely."

Again, Amelia's eyes flicked skywards, "must have been some extra-friendly odds for you to hold a grudge thirteen years after his death…"

"Er- yes. Look, if she's alright, I'll be off…"

Severus gratefully retreated on her nod as Hermione emerged from the bedroom wearing some pyjamas that had probably last been worn in Mel's 'bright college days'. Their owner retrieved her warmest cardigan from the back of a chair and wrapped it around Hermione in a tight hug.

"You'll be alright, my love," she said. Hermione returned the hug.

"Did Professor Snape mean what he said?" she asked, allowing herself to be led to the windowseat.

"I think so. He's an odd man, that one – but he's trying to be less…" Amelia searched for an appropriate word.

"Evil?"

"… unpleasant."

Hermione laughed at that and wrapped the cardigan around her more tightly, then looked rather confused at the crackling noise that this produced. Curious, she identified the source of the sound in the pocket of the garment.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that," Amelia exclaimed, "looks like it's from Aunty Bea, you open it."

Hermione did so, unfolding the crisp paper within.

"Dearest Amelia," she read, "hoping that you and the little monster are well. I hate to inconvenience you dear, but…" Hermione trailed off, eyes flicking rapidly across the page.

"But what?" Amelia asked, that familiar prickle of concern pressing the back of her neck. "Hermione?"

Wordlessly, and with a face deepened with worry lines she handed the letter to her cousin. Once she'd read it, the pair stared silently at one another for some time. It was Amelia who broke the silence first, "I'll have to go."

"Mel," Hermione began.

"He's harassing Bea."

"Mel, don't -"

"I'll head out straight away."

"Mel, for gods' sake! He'll –"

"I know!" she snapped. "Sorry." Then: "I have to."

"I know…"

"I'll go straight to Dumbledore; can you do me a favour?"

0o0

Severus was sat in his rooms listening to the wireless when Hermione knocked on his door. Deftly switching the machine off, removing his feet from the desk and smoothing down his robes, he steepled his fingers together.

"Come."

Hermione, still bundled up in her cousin's clothes and paler than live humans are supposed to be, came into the room. Despite her fragile appearance she stood straight backed and determined before him.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Amelia – that is, my cousin – has been called away unexpectedly to deal with a family emergency. She's spoken to Professor Dumbledore, but asked me to inform you that she is regrettably unable to join you for chess tomorrow."

Concerned both by his student's demeanour and the suddenness of Amelia's departure Severus began, "may I enquire after the nature of the predicament, Miss Granger?" he matched her formal tone.

"Only that it is a personal matter and that she does not yet know when she will return."

"I see."

"She also wishes to ask a favour of you, Sir," Hermione continued more timidly.

"Oh?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Sit down, Miss Granger, and tell me what you can."

Several floors above, Remus lay by the fire in his office, quietly excited and awaiting Amelia's arrival. He looked up as the door opened and began to wag his tail; this action ceased abruptly however, as he saw who it was that had entered.

"Forgive the intrusion, Lupin," Snape sneered.

Remus, despite himself, growled.

"I am simply here to relay a message. Miss Brown has been called away unexpectedly on family business and does not know when she will return. She sends her apologies."

Remus's heart plummeted into his stomach **; this felt like real trouble.

"She also suggested I offer my own company in her stead, though I suspect we are both equally opposed to that idea."

Remus vaguely resisted the urge to chew on Severus's leg and nodded.

"Right. I expect that the house elves will be available to feed you and attend to your needs; do try not to eat them." With that he swished out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

If he hadn't been so worried about Amelia (or currently a wolf) he might have chuckled.

Had Severus just made a joke?

0o0o0o0

Hermione, curled up on the window seat in Amelia's room, watched the December rain trail down the window miserably. As she intended to remain in Amelia's quarters until her cousin returned safely Severus had, kindly and unexpectedly, instructed the house elves to bring up her books and some of her clothes, and keep her appropriately fed. She was seeing and entirely new side of her dour professor, she mused; after ensuring her relative well-being he had, somewhat awkwardly, wished her a good-night and instructed her to send a message to him immediately if either she or Amelia needed anything.

What she needed, Hermione thought, was for Amelia to be back safe and sound. She'd picked at her food and made a few notes on her work but she was too worried for her cousin to properly concentrate.

Although she knew Aunty Bea could take care of both herself and Amelia, Hermione could still imagine the kind and extent of trouble that that bastard could cause. She remembered sitting beside Amelia's hospital bed waiting for her friend to wake for days after their last encounter. Her cousin had seemed so small and pale compared to her usual colourful nature; Hermione had never been more afraid in her life, even when, the summer before that she'd run, unthinking, across town to the smoking pile of rubble that had once been her home.

Amelia had been there, pale and shaking, but still strong and sensible enough to hold her cousin. Without her, Hermione knew, she would not have survived thus far. Without Amelia…

Desperately, she reached for her Potions homework and tried, unsuccessfully to banish such thoughts from her treacherous mind.

0o0o0o0

*i.e. Gossiping.

** Although as he was currently a wolf, this was more of a sideways movement than a downwards one.