These characters and their setting are the property of J. Rowling and her associates and affiliates.
Chapter 14: Christmas Shopping and Muggle Magic
"Oy! 'Mione, look at this one! Her bust is busting right out of it! And this one's all made up of beads and feathers. No wonder it gets a thumbs down. Muggles are mad, you know?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Tonks was perusing People Magazine's "Best and Worst Dressed at Cannes" issue. The concept of madness was a relative thing.
"Who's Reese Witherspoon, and what's Cannes?" asked Tonks turning the page to view Madonna in a Chinese red gown with thigh high slits.
"Reese is an actress and Cannes is a film festival held in France."
Tonk's face lit up. "Film?The type of Muggle pictures that move? Crikey! I'd like to see some of those!"
"You mean you've never been to the movies Tonks?" Hermione exclaimed, almost shocked, yet trying to keep her voice down. "I thought your father was a Muggle," she added in a whisper.
"Muggle-born 'Mione, not Muggle. And once he married Ma, he tried to stay away from Muggle stuff. Not that it helped him much. Her family never accepted him. Bunch of stuck-up pureblooded gits! Oh, look at this one! I'd give it a thumbs down too. Makes her look three months pregnant!"
Hermione didn't say anything. Demi Moore probably was three months pregnant in that picture. The few people nearby who hadn't been paying attention to them before looked up briefly at the word "pregnant." She nudged Tonks and hissed at her to keep her voice down and remember where they were.
Tonks looked suddenly surprised and guilty. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry," she said before turning another page to lose herself again in goggling over Halle Barry dressed in skin tight purple leather, and Jude Law at the beach in a Speedo. Their neighbors went back to ignoring them and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't supposed to draw any attention to themselves here.
She and Tonks were in the waiting room of the West Side Women's Clinic, a drab, institutional sort of office that specialized in family planning services. It was one of those clinics frequented by London's poorer classes and Hermione felt a little out of place. She would have preferred to have gone to her old family doctor for her birth control checkup, but this cheap little clinic, while short on comfort and ambiance, provided the value of anonymity. Contraception, for those impaled upon the Marriage law, was a criminal offense. She had to blend in with the masses of Muggle London, her appearance disguised, her identity an alias, in order to get what she needed to keep from conceiving a baby Snape.
So far, it had worked. No Severus Jr. yet!But she had to renew her prescription, and while Hermione could have brewed any wizard contraceptive potion, she had no idea how to manufacture her own Ortho-Cyclin. That had to come from a Muggle chemist, and such needed to see a doctor's script first, which was why she was back at this clinic.
The other patients in the room were a humble lot, most of them poor, few of them happy. She wondered how many of them were here for abortions.Hermione had always detested the idea of abortion, killing one's unborn child simply because it was inconvenient. How could anyone do that? Sadly, now that she had come within a heartbeat of suicide, Hermione felt she understood the sort of desperation that could lead a person to make such tragic choices.Why wasn't there another way?
She wondered what would happen if she became pregnant in spite of her precautions. Would Severus insist she abort it? I have no desire to father children.. Hermione couldn't really imagine that. No matter how he felt, that prickly honor of his would make him accept her child. But she shivered at the thought of his anger and disappointment. She had to keep carefully taking these pills, even if a very small part of her wondered what it would be like to have a child by him-- an innocent Snape she could raise in love, a Snape who would never be tortured by a past he couldn't speak of...
Tonks was chortling over something else she was reading. Hermione had taken the young Auror with her for companionship and moral support, and because her husband had forbidden her to traipse about Muggle London alone. Tonks had been delighted to come with her again, and they had planned a day of Christmas shopping after visiting the clinic, but Hermione was beginning to wish that she had disregarded Snape's patronizing orders and come alone. Tonks was driving her crazy.
Technically, her name was now Nymphadora Lupin, but Remus saw no harm in his wife being referred to by her maiden surname-- or anything else she wanted either. The two had married shortly after she and Severus had, and they were still basking ecstatically in a haze of honeymoon bliss.While Hermone was happy for them, she found their gushingly sweet behavior nauseating. They tickled and kissed each other in public, called each other sugary little love names, and giggled and cooed like moonstruck teenagers. Tonks prattled on and on about the joys of married life. Hermione heard all about how cute Remus was when he snored, the adorable little tufts of hair that grew on his toes, and the funny things he whispered in bed.
Unlike Hermione, Tonks seemed to have no inhibitions at all when it came to discussing sex. She would have spilled many more details of her intimate moments, so happy was she to be actually having them, had not Hermione's awkward and embarrassed silence made her pause. Of course she interpreted this silence in exactly the wrong way.
"Oh. Um. Sorry. I suppose I shouldn't go on about that. Forgot it must be hard for you, married to Snape and all. Probably rather not think about it, huh?"
"Well, actually," Hermone had admitted with a blush. "The sex is the best part of my marriage."
Strangely, Hermione had felt relieved to be able to say this. Her marriage was a taboo subject with her friends. She wanted to share with someone how disturbing it was to discover herself attracted at times to someone she shouldn't be attracted to.An ugly someone, a nasty someone, a someone everyone else despised, who often made her angry. Why did the memory of their intimacies stir her so?
"Huh." Tonks frowned dubiously with incomprehension and disgust. Snape obviously wasn't a person Tonks would even think about having sex with. "Remus told me Snape had reputation with women when he was younger, but I didn't believe him. I mean who'd a thought?"
"What did he say?" Hermione's morbid curiosity had gotten the better of her.
"He said Snape got around almost as much as my cousin Sirius did. They didn't have the same type of reputation, of course. I mean, half the school was in love with Sirius! But Remus says many of the same girls used to sneak around with Snape on the sly." She paused and grimaced wryly. "Sirius was the boy you took home to mother, but Snape was the boy you let in the window when mother was out. Girls messed around with him but didn't actually date him."
Hermione had been quiet for a few moments as she tried to picture a brooding, teen aged Snape as a backdoor man, a Wizarding James Dean style rebel."I wonder how he felt about that," she had mused.
"Felt about what?"
"Being used but not really wanted."
Tonks had shrugged. She obviously had never considered the idea from this angle and had difficulty doing it even then. "That has to be the way he wanted it. I mean, that's the way bad boys are, isn't it?"
There had been no reply Hermione could make to that. Sadly, Tonks wasn't the person she so needed to confide to. While friends, they weren't on the same page. They weren't even reading the same book.
So Severus had been the bad-boy secret lover. Was that why she occasionally found herself so attracted to him? Was she one of those girls that lusted after the dangerous types? She had never thought of herself as that sort of person. Bad boys like Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini had never, ever sparked her interest, and she had been rather afraid of Severus before she had married him, never attracted. It had to be just the sex, and Snape's lethal level of experience.
Her mind strayed back to last weekend's encounter. After staying out all night following their trip to Diagon Alley, Severus had offered her no explanation of where he had been, or why he had been gone so long. He had come back haggard and hollow-eyed, and to her expressions of concern had only said, "It isn't the first time I've gone without sleep." But he hadn't forgotten his proposition to her after all. That evening, tired or not, as she sat in their study reading her new book, he had lifted it out of her hand, led her firmly into the bedroom, and proceeded to make love to her with a level of intensity that had bordered on the frightening, as well as being very, very exciting.
Afterwards, as they drowsed together, Hermione had tried one more time to get him to tell her where he had been. Perhaps after all that passion, he would be more vulnerable to letting his guard down. That didn't happen.
"I was a spy, Hermione. Don't think you can get me to kiss and tell."
"But I am your wife! A wife needs to know where her husband is going!"
"A good wife respects her husband's wishes!"
"A good husband doesn't make her worry! What if you didn't come back at all? Who would I go to? Who would I ask? How would I know what to do to help you?"
Severus' reply had been a quiet, sardonic snort. "No problem there. If I never came back, you could consider your worries over, couldn't you?"
Hermione had shook suddenly with blinding, spitting fury. "What an AWFUL thing to say! I don't think that way! I'm not like that!" She hadn't been able to stop the tears. How could he treat her so good one minute and insult her the next? Of course it was only her body he had been good to.
There had been a couple of still, miserable moments where she had struggled to hide her tears and had failed terribly. Then Snape had finally broken the silence.
"That was vile even for me, wasn't it?" he had whispered. "I am a nasty person, Hermione, but I know you are not. You wouldn't think that way. I apologize." He had turned then to her and sighed. "I will tell you as best as I can where I am going, and when I shall be likely to return. I expect, of course, that you will do the same for me. What I cannot tell you is any Order business. You are not a member of the Order and you cannot become one while still a student. You can join when you finish University."
"Maybe I'll just skip University and become your apprentice." Her tone had been sullen.
"The Order doesn't accept apprentices either. Nice try. Go to University, Hermione. Enjoy being a student. Such things don't last and there is always time later to risk your life."
That conversation was the reason she had been forced to drag along Tonks, who was gleefully pouring over a back issue of Glamour. Severus wanted a say in where she went too.
"Hey, 'Mione! Read this! Six sex tips to bring out the wolf in your man! Are they kidding?"
Before Hermione was forced to reply, the receptionist called, "Miss Herman?"
A nurse weighed her, took her blood pressure, and led her to one of the examining rooms where a doctor asked her questions. Did she have any pain or discomfort? Spotting between periods? Dizziness or fainting spells? Tenderness in her breasts?
In between the doctor's questions, Hermione fired off a few of her own. They had given her pamphlets with only general information. She wanted to know what was IN the medication. How were hormones synthesized? What were the ingredients? There had to be a way to do this herself! When he told her that the first synthetic estrogen came from South American yams, experimental possibilities bubbled up in her mind. The doctor was just mentioning the companies that made the drugs, when the nurse knocked on the door and put her head into the room.
"Doctor Malfoy is on line one for you. It's about the conference tomorrow."
"Excuse me," he said. "I have to take this."
Hermione felt like she had been hit with a club. There was a Doctor Malfoy? A Muggle Malfoy? Could there be a connection between the Muggle world and that awful Wizarding family? The Malfoy name was rare, but surely there could be others, elsewhere in the world, who shared it. When the doctor got off the phone, Hermione had one more question for him.
"Did she say that was a Doctor Malfoy?"
"Yes," he said as he wrote her prescription. "Doctor Lilly Malfoy. Perhaps you've heard of her?"
"I've heard the name Malfoy before, but I can't remember where I heard it. Perhaps I read it somewhere."
"You may have read of her," he said as he tore the prescription off the pad. "She's very well known, a foremost specialists in women's reproductive health. She helped set up many of the clinics here in London-- this one in fact." He handed Hermione the prescription and took down a framed picture from the wall. "This was taken at the groundbreaking ceremony. Dr. Malfoy is on the right."
Hermione took the picture and examined the grainy image. The one identified as Dr. Malfoy was a sixtyish woman, with short gray hair, wearing a severely tailored suit. The caption read, "Dr. Lilly Malfoy, advocate for women's health, opens clinic in needy district."
It took all her strength to stifle a laugh. Muggles named Malfoy doing charitable public works? What a scream it would be if Draco Malfoy was less of a purebred than he let on, if he had secret Muggle relatives! Maybe these Muggle Malfoys came from some long ago Malfoy squib. Hermione smiled inwardly. It would be grand to see that arrogant brat taken down a peg, and it might just do him good! Perhaps she would do a little research into this if she ever got the time. She picked up the new prescription jauntily, and went back out to the waiting room to join Tonks.
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"Two firewhiskeys. Ogden's, if you have it."
The bartender's gaze shifted to Lupin sitting at their table and then back at him. Severus gave him a steely stare and the man hurried to get their drinks. Snape's face was safely impassive, but inwardly he was writhing. He had never intended to spend the day with Remus Lupin, and he honestly wished he were anyplace else-- especially since they were going to shop for Christmass presents!
He had only himself to blame, he supposed, since he was the one who had insisted that his wife take Tonks along with her. London was a dangerous place even for a witch. An Auror with her would be good protection. But Tonks had arrived at Hogwarts armed with her new husband, and while Severus had innocently thought only to confer with him on Order business, he had somehow been roped into this ghastly social outing. He had no idea how that happened.
Lupin smiled genially as Severus approached with the drinks, and didn't seem put off by his disagreeable manner. Snape wanted to throw the whiskey at him. Why in the world did the man insist upon stopping for a drink? Why not just go to a store, buy something, and be done with it? Surely he had to realize that Severus was not in the habit of frequenting pubs! Or did Lupin think that a drink or two would make Snape more sociable? He was in for a disappointment! Severus Snape could consume prodigious amounts of alcohol and still be in top sarcastic form. Firewhiskey simply sharpened his bite. He put the drinks on the table and slid one over to Lupin.
"Ah, Thank you, Severus," he beamed. "Just the thing on a cold day!" He raised his glass. "To marital bliss!"
Snape almost choked. Marital bliss? Was this a joke? Was Remus poking fun at Snape's farce of a marriage? A second's consideration of Lupin's honest, open countenance made him discount it. Such subtle cruelty really was out of character for this man. Remus was a mild, good-natured person, forever the peacemaker-- providing he didn't have to go up against his friends. Digging for patience, Severus forced himself to smirk, raised an eyebrow, and answered, "Yes, quite," before raising his own glass.
The first few sips burned their way down his throat as he mused on how odd it was that he was sharing a drink with a werewolf. Lupin actually appeared to want his company, to establish some sort of association with him-- and not simply out of a patronizing sense of moral duty. He seemed to want to be his friend. Amazing...Possibly pathetic. After all the things that had happened between them, after the events of their shared past, how could Remus Lupin ever expect that Severus Snape could be friends with him?
Of course, it was possible that Lupin regretted the past. He hadn't really been an active participant in the sports of Snape-baiting, Snape-ambush, Snape-torture, and general Snape-persecution that James and Sirius had practiced. He had held back-- guilty by association, hesitant, embarrassed, possibly ashamed. But he hadn't tried very hard to stop his beloved friends from making Snape's school life a living hell. Even Longbottom would have had more backbone... He had just stood by. Perhaps he now felt guilty.
Was he trying to make amends? Severus had reformed of sins that had been far worse. Certainly Remus, guilty only of petty weakness and collusion, could also repent-- and Severus would be expected to forgive him because that was the price of reformation. Reformed sinners had to forgive as they had been forgiven. But to act as if those years of pain were nothing was a vile potion to have to swallow. Hell, it STILL hurt! It still bothered him that he had been treated so badly and that nobody had cared. He knew it was wrong to dwell on it, but nursing this grudge had been one of the ways he had kept from brooding on other, worse, things.
An odd thought struck him. He had always believed Lupin felt sorry for him, and he had hated him all the more because of it. It was soul-scorching to be pitied by those one secretly envied-- and he had envied Lupin. Werewolf, or not, Remus had belonged. He had been part of a close, loyal group. But it occurred to Snape that perhaps it was Lupin who was now to be pitied. With James and Sirius dead, Remus had few contemporaries, and fewer still who would own him. He was a werewolf and people shunned him. Even here, there were tables empty around them, though patrons stood about the bar. People flashed Severus strange looks (which he returned with cold, arrogant disdain) for sitting with Lupin. Perhaps the reason Remus was reaching out to Snape was because he actually needed him. Imagine that.
Snape's habitual reaction would have been to shove it back in his face. Now was the moment he could repay some of the hurt he had suffered and get some long awaited vengeance. But he didn't. Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold, and Severus found to his surprise that he didn't have the taste for it. There was something about the pathos of the situation, the irony of this tentative, mute appeal that touched him. James Potter's second best friend was now so hard up for companionship that he sought it in Snape. Severus suddenly did pity him a little.
Only a little. He still envied him. Remus was loved and Severus wasn't, although he had always outshone him before. Lupin, the shy and self effacing, the dull and the drab, had never had luck with women. Snape hadn't been popular, but he had possessed a sort of dangerous, bad-boy charm that had attracted girls. They had come to him in secret, curious and daring, fascinated by his growing reputation as a lover. Sex had been a sport Snape had found easy to master, but he had never been wanted for anything beyond that-- and always, always in secret. No one had wanted Severus Snape as a boyfriend.
Now Lupin had the real thing and he was happy. Not that Snape saw anything remarkable in Tonks... He remembered her from his classes as a gauche, clumsy girl who spilled ingredients and ignited cauldrons. How she ever became an Auror, he never knew-- except that she was tough and persistent, the type that prevailed through sheer stubbornness. She wasn't the sort he was attracted to. There was little that was soft and feminine, or subtle and refined about Tonks. And she was virtually allergic to books. But she loved Lupin, and Severus was jealous. Hermione was the superior wife, she didn't love him.
As Snape eyed Remus, who was gamely attempting to engage him in small-talk, he was inwardly wrestling with unwilling pity, and bitter, jealous revulsion. Why was he always in situations where he was pulled both ways? He felt a bizarre duty to stand by the werewolf, as one outcast to another, but he wished with all his might that it could be anyone other than Lupin.
Even had there been no bad blood between them, he was not the sort Severus would have sought as a friend. He found nothing compelling or interesting about him, nothing that struck a chord of common interest. Lupin was boring. He wasn't particularly brave, bright, skilled or learned. He was simply there-- steady, lackluster, unexceptional in everything but his lycanthropy, and the fact that he was kind. Snape begrudged him that kindness, and the weird obligation that he felt to be somewhat decent back. It appeared one couldn't really choose one's friends after all. He downed the last of his firewhiskey.
"Well, shall we get on with it and assault the Alley?"
"By all means, Severus. After you."
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"There it is, Tonks, Herrod's. The best Muggle shopping experience in London. I can't believe you've never been there!"
"Well, I've never shopped for Muggle presents. We have a lot already. Why don't we go to the Alley for the rest?"
"Because I've still got Muggle relatives to buy for, and I can't get them anything at a wizard shop. Besides, you can't go through life in Britain, even as a witch, without seeing Herrod's!"
Doing Christmas Herrod's style had been a Granger family tradition. Hermione's earliest memories of Christmas, beyond the one or two treasured gifts she had received, centered on the excitement of the family shopping trip to London. She remembered fondly the music, the glitter and the lights, and the dazzling items in displays too high for her to reach. Even with her parents gone, she still wanted to keep that tradition, and to share it, if she could, with someone else.
Hermione tried very hard not to think of her parents that much. Their loss was too recent, and it still felt unreal. She no longer occupied the world that they had lived and died in, and she didn't want to bring it closer. She and Tonks had visited the wizard cemetery where Mr. and Mrs. Tonks were buried, but she refused all her friend's offers to accompany her to the graveyard where her own parents lay. She didn't want to go there. She didn't want, or need, to see it. She knew they were dead. What good would it do? It was bad enough that she had to move her family's possessions out of storage over the holidays. Why subject herself to more grief? At least carrying over this old tradition had a good feeling. Her last memories of her family at Herrod's were pleasant ones.
Tonks had not been impressed with the Muggle shops they had visited so far-- the antique shops, the candy stores, the gift shops that sold decorative glassware, and most especially the book store. She had paced and fidgeted while Hermione had perused the books, being such an irritant that her friend had spent far less time there than she would have liked. Tonks had viewed Hermione's purchases with amazed scorn.
"You're buying Snape books? Doesn't he have enough?"
As if you could ever have enough books! Hermione had thought carefully about Severus' Christmas present, and of course it would be books. She felt instinctively that Snape would find them a far more personal gift than clothing or magical artifacts, and she already knew what he might like best.
The library at Snape Manor had lots of Muggle literature-- classics, mostly, and a few modern novels, but most of the scientific references were old. He had nothing newer than Einstein. There were no books of modern technology or theory, so she bought him a boxed set of Stephen Hawking's: The Universe in a Nutshell, and A Brief History of Time. For good measure, she also included The Elegant Universe, by Brian Greene. After all, String Theory was no stranger than some wizard ideas, and the truth might be stranger still! Tonks had shaken her head at these volumes, regarding the bright, odd illustrations as proof positive that Muggle society was crazy.
But she absolutely loved Herrod's! Hermione watched her goggle in appreciation of the clean opulence and rich, businesslike ambiance of the London superstore with a feeling of vindication. This, after all, was her heritage. She wasn't ashamed of being Muggleborn and it irritated her that much of Wizard society regarded their non-magical neighbors as some sort of ignorant savages or children-- a stupid way to think, considering how much they outnumbered wizards.
The contrast between this store and Diagon Alley couldn't have been greater. Here were multiple floors of brightness and spaciousness, an artful combination of shiny surfaces of glass, mirror, and chrome softened by traditional ornamentation. Wizard stores tended to be small, dim, candle-lit, and cozy. No shop in Diagon Alley would have been out of place two hundred years ago. Wizard focus was on the ancient and venerable while Muggles loved the new. The vitality and color of this very traditional superstore made wizard shops seem provincial, shabby, and drab.
And the transient quality of Muggle fashion was also beyond comprehension. Wizard fashions did change, but the changes were slow and rather subtle. When it came to clothing, there were only so many variations possible with basic robes. How Muggles could wear embroidered jeans one year and patched ones the next ( "'Mione look! These pants are frayed!") Was totally non-sequiter. Muggle technology was even more mystifying. Non-magical technology had grown faster than Wizarding society could keep up with, and few even knew it-- or cared.
"What's this I-Pod?" asked Tonks, examining the latest from Sony.
"It's a device you carry with you that plays music."
Tonks frowned. "Music comes out of here? I thought Muggles couldn't do magic. How does it work?"
"It's electronic," Hermione explained. "Electronics is sort of like electricity. It works with electrons flowing through wires, except that it uses batteries and chips and..." She stopped at the glazed look coming into Tonks' face. No one wanted to listen when she tried to explain technology. "It's a kind of Muggle Magic," she concluded.
"Crikey." Tonks put down reverently as though it was an artifact of a alien race, which to her it was.
Hermione sighed. Wizards were so pig-headed when it came to Muggle science! Their world was narcissistic. Magic made them superior, and anything that wasn't magic didn't interest them. They were a proud, closed society, associating only with each other, following their own sports, learning and practicing their arcane arts. But magical innovations were slow in development. Wizards looked smugly backward while Muggles looked eagerly forward. Hermione felt another surge of pride in her heritage-- in advancements like genetic research, and nanotechnology. One day, "Muggle Magic" might overshadow traditional magic, and wizards might find themselves suddenly left behind...
Tonks didn't care about Muggle science but she was having a grand time finding the perfect present for Remus. She was currently considering a pair of leather pants.
"What do you think of these?"
"Do you know his Muggle size?" Hermione asked cautiously.
Tonks looked at her blankly.
"It may not fit him, you know. And besides, they'll only be hidden under his robes."
"Yeah, you're right. Hey, look at these shorts!" she dragged Hermione over to a display of novelty underwear. "There's writing all over them, and pictures. This one says 'No!No!No!', but it glows in the dark, 'Yes!Yes!Yes!' It's perfect! Even if it was hidden under his robes, I'd know it was there."
Hermione shuddered. If she gave such a thing to Severus, he'd clean cauldrons with it...in her presence! She wondered, with a pang, if her husband would even bother to get her a present. It wasn't as though they had a real marriage. She hurried to drag Tonks away from a jewelry display where she was examining ear rings in the shape of wolves.
"Remus doesn't have pierced ears," she cautioned.
"Oh, no problem. I can do that!"
"They're silver."
"Oh."
After helping Tonks pick out a nice bathrobe to go with the boxers, Hermione steered them to toiletries to buy an aunt some perfume.
"Wow, aromatherapy. I didn't know Muggles knew about stuff like this! This one's perfect. 'Peace and Relaxation, an antidote to insomnia.' Remus has such awful nightmares after his transformation, and he can't get back to sleep. Poor lamb, I wonder what he dreams."
Hermione nodded gravely. Severus had had another nightmare two nights ago, waking her up from a sound sleep with loud moaning. She had been afraid to wake him up, considering what had happened the last time, but she couldn't leave him to suffer. She had shaken him gingerly and eventually he had awakened to clutch at her tightly, chest heaving, expression wild. But he had done nothing more than cling to her, almost painfully, and in reaction to her obvious apprehension had said harshly, "You needn't worry. I am in control of myself!" And he had carefully withdrawn from her.
"Can I help you, Severus," she had asked, after a few awkward moments. "Perhaps I can get you a potion."
"I'll be all right." His voice has been tight. "Go back to sleep."
He had gotten up and left, perhaps to take a potion, and had stayed away for a while. When he did come back to bed, he lay still and unmoving, obviously awake, far into the night.
Hermione had been sleepless for a long time too, wondering if she should say something to him, if she should touch him or speak to him. It was plain he needed comfort, but she had had no idea what to do, what he would allow her to do, or what he would do in return.
She wondered what Tonks did when Remus woke up screaming. She could imagine tender moments of love and comfort, comfort that would be appreciated. Hermione was suddenly rather jealous of Tonks. She had someone who loved her and would let her love them back.
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"How about a self-inking quill?"
"She already has two of them."
"Perhaps a new cauldron?"
"For Christmas? Honestly, Lupin, she is my WIFE."
"Yes, well, I can see how a cauldron wouldn't be quite festive enough. How about perfume? This one looks nice-- Hot Arabian Passion."
"Indeed," scoffed Snape, taking a dubious sniff and grimacing. "Asking her to bathe in incense would have the same effect, and would cost less."
"Perhaps not, then," consoled Remus with that constant, irritating affability. "But don't worry. We'll find something."
Snape rolled his eyes. The ordeal that had started at the pub had now progressed to the torture level. Unless it was for potions or books, Snape heartily disliked shopping-- and he detested Christmas shopping. The holiday was a dismal time for him, and had always been. He had never received or given a present in his life. At school, it had been particularly painful. Beyond the joke gifts Slytherin boys usually gave each other, his spot under the tree had been conspicuously bare. Going home for the holidays had actually seemed good to him-- a lesser of two miseries. It took a lot to make him want to go home.
"A new book would always be good for Hermione," suggested Lupin.
"I bought her a book last week." Yes. The book she had been reading in plain sight the other night. Could she have been sending him a hint? No, that couldn't be.
"Hmm. Now here's a beautiful set of silver combs and brushes." He pointed but carefully did not touch.
Snape picked up a comb as if to consider it, but put it down and moved on. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to draw attention to Hermione's hair. She seemed sensitive about it, as though she thought it unattractive. Could she honestly not realize how beautiful she was? Hadn't he shown her how lovely she was to him those nights when she lay in his arms? But of course she would only see that as lust-- the animal desire of a lecherous man who had her at his mercy. She had no idea that he loved her heart and mind, as well as her body, because he couldn't tell her. He couldn't even find her a proper Christmas present!
Lupin had done most of the shopping so far. He had joyfully picked over silly, ridiculous items to find a gift for Tonks. Remus had little money, and he looked it. He was also a known werewolf. Shopkeepers pointedly ignored him, and might not have waited on him at all, had it not been for the presence of Snape, whom they eagerly acknowledged. Lupin dragged him from store to store-- mild, genial, patient, encouraging; while Severus, bound by a duty he resented, galvanized the vendors into courtesy. It would have been hard to determine who was the nursemaid and who was the charge, and the irony wasn't lost on Snape.
Lupin bought Tonks a set of gloves ("She's always losing hers,") an enchanted umbrella that repelled rain for a foot-wide radius, and a pouch of Peruvian Dark powder from Weasley's. Snape would have rather cut his wrists than enter there, but found himself doing it as part of his reluctant duty. He bore it with his usual bad grace, and the twins grinned impudently at him, smug with their new success. They offered him ghastly products-- ridiculous wands that turned into rubber chickens, candies that made one sick, or perfumes that smelled of pizza or beer ("To attract a mate, mate!") Severus couldn't exit the place fast enough.
"Does she collect anything? Art? Crystal? Talismans?" They passed shops with windows full of magical collectibles.
"Aside from books, no." Madam Malkin's was coming up. Should he buy her new robes?
"What about a negligee?" Lupin's friendly voice held subtle hints of innuendo as he pointed to a lovely concoction of red satin and lace that was hanging in the window-- something that would look delicious on Hermione's sweet curves.
Snape recoiled visibly. That would be the WORST thing he could give her! It would only confirm what she already thought-- that he had married her out of lust. Not that he hadn't driven that particular idea home with a vengeance the other night... What must she think of him? He was finding it increasingly hard to keep his hands off her, and when he did give in to his passion, it was difficult to hold anything back. The fact that she ended up enjoying it was beside the point.
It was the guilt he had felt for unleashing his passion so violently, that had led him to make that boorish remark when she had asked him to explain where he had been the night before. The memory still made his stomach turn sour. He had taken her body and then insulted her. He had apologized after, but what use were words? Why did he always end up hurting the very person he loved?
"There's always jewelry."
Severus looked up. There was a jewelry shop ahead of them. Well, why not? It was the classic gift of last resort for clueless husbands, and he had to get her something. Remus smiled as he ushered Severus into the store, and tactfully stepped back to let him browse unhindered. Snape eyed the various treasures, while Lupin peered wistfully at what he couldn't afford. At least Snape was lucky enough to have means.
What should he get? Did Hermione even wear jewelry? It mustn't be something too cheap, but it shouldn't be anything too elaborate either. What if she didn't buy something for him? But, of course she would.. She got EVERYBODY a gift. He looked and looked. "I'll take that!" He said suddenly, pointing to something promising-- a locket of entwined gold and silver, adorned with a ruby and an emerald.
"Excellent choice, sir," purred an unctuous shopkeeper, lifting it out of the case. It suddenly seemed too small.
"Why Severus. How romantic! I didn't know you had it in you!" said Lupin at his shoulder.
"You still don't," Snape answered shortly.
"For a Slytherin-Griffindor union?" The jeweler winked.
"Just wrap it!"
Lupin was beaming at him in a way that made him shudder. Remus knew. Perhaps he had known all along. Had Severus been that obvious, or was this a werewolf's animal instinct? Snape suddenly felt very vulnerable, and angry at himself-- and Lupin-- for it. He pocketed his purchase and stalked out.
"There's nothing wrong with being in love, Severus," said Lupin, catching up with him later.
"I don't know what you are talking about, and if you say anything to Hermione, I won't be responsible for what happens to you!"
"You needn't worry. I won't tell her. You will... Eventually."
Snape glared at him poisonously. Lupin clapped him on the shoulder, and the poisonous look became lethal.
"If I can be loved, so can you. It's a miracle that can happen to anyone."
Severus shook his head stiffly and turned away. Since when had he ever known a miracle?