Chapter Thirteen. In Regis Curia.
The next morning was hectic as students scrambled to pack, rushing down to Hogsmeade before the Hogwarts Express before it left the station without them. Hermione had looked forwards to seeing Severus at breakfast, but had only the briefest glimpse of him in the hustle as a catastrophe interrupted almost as soon as the Head of Slytherin reclined in his chair.
It presented itself in the form of Argus Filch running into the Great Hall, screaming, "Locusts! Locusts in the dungeons!"
Someone had loosed a plague of grasshoppers in the Slytherin common room and it had taken him and Filch hours to root out the nasty creatures. It was a colony kept to feed one of the student's pet snakes, and the species had been bred to provide better sustenance and cold resistance to reptiles. They were crossbred with chipfurzles and if they have been allowed to infest the castle it would have been impossible to root them out completely. The problem was that some clever student had decided to place a gemino curse on the damned things, which made it that much harder to catch them - the minute you touched one it started to multiply. It was a nightmare prank, worthy of the Marauders.
Hermione and the other Professors helped get the rest of the students to the station while Severus and Filch stayed back. Later, when Hermione ventured down to see if there was anything she might assist with, she found that Snape had already gone off somewhere.
By the time dinner came around, Hermione still had not seen Severus anywhere. Dinner conversation turned to the review of where the various members of staff would be staying over the holidays, and it occurred to Hermione that she had no idea of what Severus' plans might be. Why should he stay here at the castle? Just because she imagined he had little interest in society didn't mean that he'd sit in his office, waiting for the students to return, like a doll packed in mothballs.
As the second-to-last straggler bid Hermione a good evening, she was feeling like a fool. She decided that she was reading too much into those kisses shared beneath the mistletoe and at her door last night. A blush heated her face as she thought about the mistletoe earrings she now wore. Was she too desperate?
That night she walked down to Hogsmeade with Professor McGonagall and a few of the others, and they walked around town, singing carols. She had her favorites, "Gloucestershire Wassail" was among them, but nothing held a candle to the Carol of Beauty. The little group always saved it for last, when they had returned to the Hogsmeade Town Square, where the acoustics were the best, right outside of the Three Broomsticks. The lights of the surrounding buildings were snuffed so that the audience could admire a display of magical lights that danced across the night sky in time with the music.
"Quelle est cette odeur agréable,
bergers, qui ravit tous nos sens?
S'exhale t'il rien de semblable
au milieu des fleurs du printemps?
Quelle est cette odeur agréable
bergers, qui ravit tous nos sens?"
A new voice joined in on the next voice, one that was deep, resonant, its masculine tones warm in the night. Hermione craned her neck about, looking for its source. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Praise we the Lord, who made all beauty
For all our senses to enjoy.
Give we our humble thanks and duty,
That simple pleasures never cloy.
A voice whispered, "There, do you see him? Up there!" Hermione squinted up where people were pointing at a patch of the sky that was dark and starless, hovering fifty feet above. She thought that she could make out the movement of what looked like arms, in time with the music. This must be the source of the spectacular display. Her heart thrilled with wonder and traitorous hope. Could it be him?
"Praise Him who makes our life a pleasure,
Sending us things which glad our eyes."
On the last verse, Hermione felt a warmth that started on her back, just between her shoulderblades. There was something familiar about the magic, and so she continued on singing, looking up at what she fancied might be the conductor.
"Thank Him who gives us welcome leisure,
That in our heart sweet thoughts may rise."
It was getting harder to see, because the ambient light around her was brightening, slowly like the dawn. Her head was tingling too. Perhaps it was a warming charm, it did feel lovely, whispering about her.
"Praise Him who makes our life a pleasure,
Sending us things which glad our eyes."
Casting about, she looked for the light source, thinking to dim it a trifle, but was startled to find no one was looking upwards any longer, rather all were looking directly at her.
A little girl whispered, "Mummy, is that an angel? She's glowing." Hermione couldn't see who the girl was speaking of, but she had a sinking feeling as she noticed Minerva McGonagall watching her, dabbing at her eyes and smiling at her as she sang along.
The group hummed the refrain before launching into the final verse, a repeat of the second by mutual agreement. The unknown baritone was getting nearer. It had a lovely tone, but wasn't quite perfect, starting a bit late, taking more breaths than the rest of them, as though its owner were exerting himself as he sang.
Looking down, Hermione finally realised where the light was coming from as she could see that her skin had taken on a subtle glow, and her robes were shimmering with a silvery white light, like that of a patronus.
"Praise we the Lord, who made all beauty
For all our senses to enjoy."
The dark shape from the sky descended slowly, and the light pouring off of her illuminated the figure of Severus Snape, his robes billowing gently as he touched down lightly. It was his voice that joined for this song, and she had eyes only for him.
"Give we our humble thanks and duty,
That simple pleasures never cloy."
Severus walked over, and stood looking down at her, heedless of the surrounding crowd.
Praise we the Lord, who made all beauty
For all our senses to enjoy."
Hermione drank in the beauty of Severus' voice, and the lines of the dear man's face. She couldn't quite place the look in his eyes, but when the last note died to silence in the square he held out his hand, and she took it, pleased when he brushed to his lips across her knuckles in silent greeting. Somewhere there was the flash of a camera, and the spell was broken. Around them the crowd broke into applause, many voices calling approval.
Soon they found themselves walking back to the castle, bypassing the obligatory round of drinks at the Three Broomsticks. None of their colleagues seemed to be offended when Hermione bid them goodbye.
When they were finally alone on the path back, Severus spoke. "You are beautiful tonight, Hermione."
"And you glad my eyes, Severus. I am so happy that you came."
As if by mutual agreement, their feet stopped on the path, and Severus looked down at her, as though he afraid that she were an illusion that would disappear should he look away. Hermione stepped closer to him and took his hand, tugging gently downward. The kiss they shared on the path, entwined there in the dark, would be one of the happy memories that Hermione could use reliably to cast a patronus from that day on.
Alone, without care for discovery or public opinion they took their time in the kiss, tenderly exploring one another's mouths, each losing track of where one started and the other began. Reluctantly, after some minutes they parted, and continued back to the castle arm in arm.
The next morning Professors McGonagall and Rolle bent their heads together over The Daily Prophet's Sunday edition, featuring a picture of Hermione and Severus standing together, and Severus kissing her hand. She was radiant with the white light that hovered about her, swelling at the back as though she had the wings of an angel, and a crown of illusory roses about her head. "Winter Romance for War Heroes," read the caption.
Both ladies smiled, but after a moment, an expression of consternation crossed McGonagall's face. "Oh no."
Connie's concerned, "Minerva?" followed the Headmistress, who picked up the hem of her robes and ran out of the Great Hall. A shouted, "Howlers! Hordes of them," was the explanation that drifted back over the air. Christmas Eve was going to be eventful. The students who were stuck here over the Holiday all leapt up and followed the Headmistress out into the courtyard.
When Connie broke out into the open air of the courtyard, flashbacks of battles gone by passed over her mind. Owls were dropping a multitude of screaming red envelopes overhead, who in turn were being shot down one by one by the Headmistress whose white hair escaped its neat bun under the effort. Around her, Connie encouraged the students to join in, "Shoot the red ones, darlings! They're full of nastiness, entirely unsuitable for the day."
Drawn by the commotion Hermione tumbled out of the side door. The scene was bewildering in the extreme, the flashes of light and the screaming abuse took her a moment to process.
"That murderer had better … " *Sizzle*
"Nothing more than a slag. First Harry Potter, then Victor Krum!" *Boff*
"...skinny ankled witch would do better with my nephew…" *BAM*
"First you pardon Snape and then you award him the Order of Merlin, but worse you're still letting the man who killed Albus Dumbledore teach at Hogwarts! Someone needs to talk sense into Hermione Granger right now before it's too..." *Poof*
The last one had come quite close to Hermione, and she hesitated before sending a shredding hex at it. Little bits of confetti that floated down, covering her in red and white snow. She let out a huff of irritation and walked over to the Headmistress who was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the skies. "I never liked howlers, Professor Granger. Terrible things. Parents who wish to express their displeasure with their children or my staff from now on will have to result to written word or floo by arrangement. I am going to set the castle wards so that all howlers from here on out are dropped in the lake."
Hermione answered with a weak smile and turned around, looking to see if Professor Snape was there. Not seeing him, she responded, "The Daily Prophet snapped a picture of us last night, did it?"
Connie was standing nearby and unfurled the copy she had tucked under her wing. "Right in one, darling."
Owls were coming in at a slower rate now, and the outer ranks of students were having a grand time, easily picking off the stragglers. The Headmistress called, "Do have a care, Clark. The poor owl didn't do anything wrong!"
Meanwhile, Hermione's eyes were scanning the article, and her lips tugged up in a smile. "Well. I think that's the nicest thing the Prophet's ever printed about me." She modulated her voice so that it would have been at home on a newcast, "Hermione Granger, OM1, an experienced enchantress of wizards, has set her sights on one of the most dangerous and powerful wizards still at large. Since his role in the war and his subsequent exoneration, Headmaster Snape has been highly sought after and was named Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor for the social seasons from 1998-2001 when he withdrew his attendance from most societal functions. Was this the very scenario he sought to escape? Has his luck run out at last, his heart in real danger at the hands of Professor Granger?"
Connie tittered, "Oh, but he was rather sought after for a while. Witches were falling all over themselves to get at the tall, mysterious wizard. Hunted like a fox, poor man."
Frowning, Hermione continued onwards, "Oh, this is infamous, that Skeeter woman keeps going. Listen to this," She looked up to make sure McGonagall was still listening, "What did she learn at Durmstrang when she was away all of those years? Is she fit as a teacher after studying at a school renowned for its tolerance of the Dark Arts? For further speculation on Granger's studies and role in the aftermath of the war, see page 5." She shook the newspaper, as though that might shake sense into the reporters, "What puerile drivel!"
Minerva was watching the doors behind the irritated witch with an expression of bemusement, so her comment was distracted, "He only ever ran towards danger, didn't he."
Hermione laughed, before going on, one finger pointing at the text, "I am a collector of the hearts of wizards, a man-eater. I must have forgotten where I keep my collection of them, them pickling in jars." She shook her head. "They have all sorts of angles on me. Heartless harpy. Well, that or a hideous harridan, fated to live alone in my tower of high-handed morals for the rest of my days. Depends on the direction of the prevalent wind. And how many H's they can get in."
"Oh, darling. Your reputation is a tool for you to use, not the other way around." Connie was watching her carefully. Or more accurately, the space right behind Hermione.
Hermione looked up at Minerva and Connie, a blush blooming on her face like Christmas roses. "He is rather handsome, isn't he?"
Severus Snape's deep voice spoke out of the thin air next to Hermione, "I'd say…" but before it could complete that statement, it was interrupted by a flash of red light and a *BANG* followed by the sound of a body hitting against the courtyard wall behind her.
Lightning quick in response, Hermione had whipped out her wand and cast a forceful Expelliarmus. "Show yourself!" She caught the blackthorne wand neatly as she directed a stern glare at the wall.
Wheezing, the doubled over figure of Severus Snape melted into view, holding his ribs and leaning against the stone wall for support.
Uttering a little moan, Hermione hurried over. "I'm sorry… so sorry."
Behind her a small crowd was forming, drawn by the sound of the raucous laughter rolling off of the Headmistress and Professor Rolle. They too had hurried over, but backed off discreetly when it was obvious that no advanced healing was immediately necessary.
"You are the only..." Severus winced as he drew breath, "..witch who has.." he coughed, and shook his head, blinking, "... taken me unawares twice."
Hermione held out her hand to him, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I am a very wicked enchantress who collects the hearts of wizards for my own nefarious purposes. I only hunt the best wizards." She grasped his hand with a soulful widening of her eyes, "Well, I do have to catch them somehow." The effect was playful without tipping over to coquettish, clearly that being Connie's territory.
Severus accepted her hand, allowing her to lever him upright. Stepping into the tug, he surprised her by engulfing her in one cloaked arm. He held up one finger, indicating that he needed a moment to catch his breath. "Last time, you knocked me out cold." He shook his head, blinking.
Eyes wide, Hermione wondered if she was finally going to feel his ire. Maybe this wasn't so funny after all. "I… I did have help. It was all three of us, you know. We apologised. Don't you remember? You saved our lives that night." She looked ready to take off on an even longer tangent.
A low growl from Severus cut her off. "You were saying I'm handsome. Shall I write the Prophet and confirm that you are not in full control of your mental faculties? Or would you rather I make an appointment to have your eyes checked at St Mungo's?"
Hermione stepped back, feeling rather certain that he was recovered sufficiently to be trusted not to collapse. His wit was recovering, and she felt altogether less charitable. She narrowed her eyes at him, "For one of the most powerful and dangerous wandless wizards in all of England, you're remarkably mouthy." She ran her fingers up and down the smooth length of dark wood, arching a single eyebrow at him.
Making a show of dusting off his robes, with a definite wince when he reached to the right, he answered, "What I was about to say before you attacked me…" he smoothed out his sleeves, and took a step towards Hermione.
Frowning, Hermione stood her ground, irritated that she was having to tilt her head upwards to maintain eye contact.
"...was that it was the glow cast off of your glorious visage that put me in the best light possible." He swallowed, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "Is it difficult to believe that you bring out the best in me?"
Hermione was entranced, her fingers still lightly running along the length of Severus' wand. She stopped breathing as he stepped a little closer still and leaned forwards to purr very quietly, "You shouldn't fondle a wizard's wand like that in front of a crowd of people. I am doing my best to be a gentleman."
With a squeak, Hermione stopped what she was doing and turned her head to find that yes indeed they did have an audience. As she turned her head back to Severus, her face flaming with embarrassment, she opened her mouth to retort and was stopped as Severus swooped in and claimed a kiss from her. It was tender enough to distract her, and she slackened her grip, permitting Severus to reclaim his wand.
The display was met with croons of delight cut with cat-calls from the crowd, and when the pair broke apart, they were greeted with a smattering of applause.
The Headmistress fixed the pair of Professors with an expression that made Hermione feel as though she were a naughty student. "Alright, back inside, all of you. Professor Snape and Professor Granger, I am afraid that your mail will experience a delay as we are going to have to examine it for cursed parchment and other trickery."
Hermione looked up to find Severus looking rather guilty. She slipped her hand into his before replying, "We're grateful for your concern, Headmistress. Constant vigilance is a good policy." She tugged on his hand, willing him to shake off the gloom, and she didn't miss his flinch at the movement. "Is Madam Pomfrey still around? I need to get Professor Snape patched up and I suspect he'd rather she did it. My healing magic is rather basic."
Severus walked Hermione down to the apparition point near the school gates. He was sending her off to her parents, and from there she had plans to travel to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Day. He had that glazed, fogged feeling one gets after being dosed with pain potions.
"So, what should we call this?" She was relentless.
His response was delayed. "I don't suppose you mean a pleasant stroll with a disappointing ending?" He didn't have to even look, the reproach wafting off of her was palpable. Damn, his shields were thin today.
"Well, this is all too new to fully label, Hermione." He swallowed, shoving down his fear that she'd come back from her family and friends having been brought to her senses.
"The Daily Prophet has forced us into the open." She squeezed his arm, and he had to shorten his steps further to match hers as she looked up at him, "I wanted to keep this between us until we had more time to explore."
He chuckled ruefully, "When has the world ever let anyone be?" He looked down at her mass of chestnut curls and took in a deep breath, memorising her scent. Realising that he had not given her anything to work with, he went on, "What are you comfortable with?"
Hermione considered, rolling words over her tongue, "Severus Snape is my … boyfriend seems so adolescent. Same for sweetheart." She looked away, shy, "Lover is too explicit and it is too soon."
Snape snorted, "I'd not be comfortable with that. Especially to your parents." He shuddered, "Your Dad's likely to place a price on my head."
The expression on Hermione's face froze. "Um, yeah. Dad and Mum." She chewed on her lip and fell uncharacteristically silent.
"You could just tell them we just started seeing each other. It is the truth. We've had what.. three dates?"
Moving into more concrete realms, she listed them, "Yule Ball counts I think, and caroling last night." She squinted, and for a moment he was afraid that she'd figured Veronica out.
Rescuing himself, he supplied, "That first day we went shopping. That was a fairly innocuous date, shouldn't make your parents worry."
Hermione laughed, "You do recall that you ended up spending the night in jail and the next fortnight not speaking to me, don't you?"
A smirk crossed his lips, "They don't know that. I trust you will know what to say. Being an Experienced Enchantress and thief of the hearts of wizards, you must do this at least once a month."
He received a firm elbow to his ribs for that, and stars of pain crowded his vision. "Nnngh... " He held his breath, waiting for waves of pain to dissipate before he took another breath. "Do you.." He was huffing shallowly now, and looked through his hair to find Hermione looking rather sorry and worried. It was adorable. What was he going to say, oh.. Right… "Do you always handle your victims so roughly? "
She reached out and brushed his hair out of his face. "Only when they take every opportunity to push me off balance."
Bracing his hands on his knees, he focused on her and his breathing. After another moment he was able to straighten up again. "It is fortunate that I'm nearly impossible to kill." He tilted his head.
Hermione walked next to him now, holding her beaded bag in her hands. "Mm. Well, you are one of the most powerful and dangerous wizards around. You might be able to survive me." She looked at him with a tremulous smile. "No one else has."
Stopping, Severus considered the petite powerhouse of a witch next to him, and held out a hand in invitation. "I am also the luckiest wizard in Britain." He lifted the hand to his lips, holding her eyes, willing her to understand how he felt. "And any wizard who thinks to usurp my position as Hermione Granger's latest conquest is going to have to fight for it."
Hermione's laugh wasn't an elegant one, nothing like Connie's. She tried to suppress it, for one, and that resulted in a delicate version of a snort. "Merlin's Beard. I'd rather not see it come to that, Severus."
His hand spasmed around hers, "I do have access to some interesting poisons, and I'd been experimenting in mental disciplines. Ministry sanctioned, of course…"
The obvious alarm that appeared on Hermione's face spoke volumes. "No! I am perfectly capable of repelling anyone I find offensive, Severus. There is no need for such tactics."
He winked at her, "Yes, love." She made a face, showing that she understood that he was winding her up again. It was so easy. He couldn't help himself.
"So, I'm telling my parents and anyone else who asks that we're seeing each other, and we just started." Her expression and mood shifted to one of growing confidence. "I can do that." She looked at him speculatively, "Are you certain you don't want me to ask my parents if you could come along? They don't bite, you know. They are dentists, not attack dogs."
Severus waved a hand. "I don't think it appropriate for you to invite me along with you when you get so little time with your family as it is, Hermione. I'd be a distraction. No, you enjoy yourself. I'll be just fine here, licking my wounds and entertaining Minerva."
They crossed the rest of the grounds, finding themselves all too soon at the Gates.
Hermione took over the proceedings, fussing over him. "You get plenty of rest, and don't let me hear that you've been skipping meals again." Her hands flitted over his cloak, picking off cat hairs here, and a long curly one there.
Severus stood, absorbing every detail, as though she were leaving to travel to Tibet and wouldn't be back for months. Inwardly he berated himself. It was only two days, not even that. He could handle that, couldn't he? A pinch of pain in his chest prompted him to capture Hermione's hands in his own, kissing each in turn.
"Be well, Hermione. Have a Happy Christmas." He tried to be reassuring, chasing the nagging worries from his mind. She would be back.
She gripped his cloak and tugged. Why did she have to do that so often? He bent down, feeling foolish and was rewarded with an ardent kiss. When she pulled back she whispered, "I will miss you."
With that she stepped away, patted her pockets to be sure she had everything, and double checked her beaded bag. After a long look at him, she broke into a blinding smile. He was stunned under the force of that joy, it was almost as good as a kiss. He nearly missed it when she said, "Happy Christmas, Severus." As fast as a mediwitch ripping off a bandage, she spun on the spot and was gone.
Instincts screaming for him to run after her, he tore himself away, making the journey back to the castle on foot.
AN: The lyrics are to a traditional French Carol, The Carol of Beauty. I omitted a line or two per AO3 lyric policy, but honestly this has been around for well over a Century and should be acceptable. I was in the Early Music Consort when I was in College almost 20 years ago now, and this song was one we did every year at Christmas Time at the Renaissance Dinner, which was a huge yearly event - everyone dressed in period costume and there was a script with a vague suggestion of plot. We had a real boar's head and everything. We made the garlands by hand to decorate the call. At the very end of the feast, after all of the music and dancing was done, we'd all arrange ourselves in the atrium to the dining room where the acoustics were incredible. The lights were cut and we sang holding candles. I still get chills, the resonant bass counterpointed with the soaring sopranos. I was an alto and some of the harmonies were just absolutely delicious, it would be one of my memories strong enough to produce a corporeal iPatronus /i. Pottermore says mine would be a dolphin. What's yours?