Chapter Twenty-Four
As is the trend with the passing of every year, autumn died away as the last brown, dried leaves fell to the barren earth, and the ground grew hard with the looming frost and the biting cold air. At the heart of the heavens, winter stirred and was awakened once again, opening its eyes and brushing off the dust that fell as snowflakes, covering greys and browns with a white linen of sparkling purity.
On this particular December day, Hermione stepped outside in the early hours of the morning. She was bundled up to the fullest extent, filled with a warm feeling at the very core of her being, and still trying to come to terms with what was true - that she was now done with her schooling forever, that she had taken her N.E.W.T.s just last week and passed with flying colors, that her future was now fully ahead of her, unknown, uncertain, but exciting with potential and prospect.
As she looked up and down the street, she realized she was the only soul outside, not surprisingly. The air was stagnant, and there was barely any sunlight due to the overhanging clouds. Not a sound was to be heard. In such solitude and stillness, the world seemed at peace. For Hermione, she felt at peace within with utmost certainty.
Even if she wasn't a witch and didn't know about magic, she would have sworn there was magic in the season. Times like the moments she was basking in presently were so seldom - or seldomly sought - that when they occurred, there was an almost holy reverence to be observed within their quickly fleeting footsteps.
For the next several seconds, she closed her eyes and remained that way. Inhaling and exhaling, she felt all worries vanish. When she opened her eyes, she allowed herself the small pleasure of taking in all that was before her yet again. Eventually, the chill began to creep through the fabric of her clothing, so she turned and went back inside.
In the few months she had lived there, Spinner's End had undergone many small transformations, culminating into the final product. The worn, shabby house had become a home, like a true Cinderella story. Despite the house's age, it was now well cared for, and the old floor boards and woodwork gave the house character, thought Hermione, which was something newer homes couldn't boast.
In a few more days, Christmas would arrive. Hermione loved Christmas. She had decorated the house a week ago and had insisted upon getting a live tree, much to Severus's dismay. While Christmas had always been a happy time for her, from her fond memories growing up with her parents to spending many Christmases at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron, it had not been for Severus. He refused to go into detail, but from what she knew about his past, she could well imagine what even his earliest Christmases must have been like.
Hermione spent much of the day looking through photo albums, reflecting on holidays past. The collection she had boasted both Muggle and wizarding photographs. She laughed and cried and everything in between.
As the days passed, Hermione felt her spirit grow. She counted down the days left until the Christmas, looking forward to being with her beloved that special day. Finally, Christmas Eve came. She dragged a half-reluctant Severus to her parents' house that evening. Much like the first time Severus had been in their company, John Granger asked probing questions, and Jane Granger fawned over whether or not her cooking was acceptable.
Presents were exchanged. Drinks were shared. Too much food to contemplate was consumed. It was with a great inward sigh of relief that Severus left with Hermione that night and headed home.
When Hermione entered their room just before going to sleep, she was greeted by Severus, who was stretched out on the bed, saying, "I will never understand what it is people find enjoyable about eating until they feel they might burst. If you ask me, having someone constantly pushing food down your throat and then insisting on you having more, only for you to feel bloated and sick the next several hours is not my idea of a good time." He scowled deeply and kept his dark eyes on Hermione as she crossed the room and joined him.
She straddled him on the bed, leaning over him, and smiled sweetly. "What's wrong, Severus? Are you saying my mother is pushy about her dinners?"
He nodded sharply and refrained from elaborating further.
"You have nothing to worry about, dearest. You're thin as a rail."
"I know that," he said indignantly. "I wasn't concerned about that. I simply don't like being force-fed."
"You weren't force-fed," Hermione gently argued, although his disagreeable manner was starting to annoy her.
Severus harrumphed.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, removing herself from him and sitting next to him. She was beginning to become hurt.
"You know how I feel about Christmas," Severus murmured, refusing to look at her.
Hermione felt her heart drop and her throat tighten. She moved toward him again and cupped his cheek with her hand, steadily making him look at her. "Listen to me, Severus," she said softly. "You will never have to live another sad Christmas again. I'm sorry for what you had to go through for so many years, and if I could change that, I would, but... but I can't. What's passed has passed and is gone."
Severus shook his head. "None of it is gone," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "I still remember all those years like they happened yesterday, and sometimes... when I stop and think about my life, I can't help but wonder how I managed to wind up where I am today. I don't deserve you, Hermione. I don't deserve to be happy, and Christmas is just another reminder of all the bitterness I've harbored for so many years..." he trailed off, unable to continue.
Hermione reached for him with her other hand and took him in her arms, stroking his back in small, soothing circles. Over the time they had been together, his nightmares had still plagued him, and while he wouldn't usually talk about them, Hermione knew he kept much locked tightly inside. Just when she thought Severus was starting to get his life back on track and gain enough self-confidence to put the past behind him, he seemed to crash in front of her very eyes.
"Please, Severus," she said, her voice shaking, "you've got to stop beating yourself up like this. I'm sorry Christmas has caused you so much unhappiness, but this Christmas is different. You know you have me. I'm yours, entirely, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll make our own memories, and in ten, twenty, fifty, maybe even a hundred years, we'll look back on this first Christmas together and laugh."
"A hundred years?" Severus asked incredulously. He couldn't help himself. "I hate to think what I'll look like then."
Hermione giggled. "I don't think I'll look too good, either, but Dumbledore was, what, a hundred and fifty or something?"
"Was, yes," Severus muttered, looking away.
Hermione realized her folly and inwardly cursed herself. "I'm sorry for bringing him up," she apologized hastily. "I didn't mean-"
Before she could continue, Severus silenced her with a finger to the lips. "It's all right," he said with a sigh. "Thinking about Albus and his crazy Christmas gifts is perhaps one of the more fond memories I have," he added, shaking his head and allowing a small smile to creep onto his face.
They talked long into the night before falling asleep in each other's arms, and Hermione realized that Severus had come to terms with himself this Christmas. He hadn't said so in so many words, but she would recall years later how his mood had altered, lightened by her infectious spirit.
When Hermione opened her eyes, she was greeted by the light of Christmas morning shining in through a crack in the curtains. The nearly blinding light was hitting her directly in the face, and with a wince, she sat up and went to the window, opening the drapes enough to peek her head through and see outside. A fresh coating of snow covered the trees, glistening in the sunlight. The houses down the street showed no sign of life yet, and the road and sidewalks were buried in several inches of the white stuff.
Hearing light snoring, she removed her head from the curtains and closed them, turning bemusedly and gazing upon Severus's slumbering form. He was sprawled out on the bed, the blankets and quilt in a disarray around him. Hermione smiled to herself. For now, she would let him sleep.
Merlin knows the poor man doesn't get enough mornings to sleep in, she thought as she grabbed her robe and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Once there, she started the coffee and set to preparing breakfast. Although no premeditation on her part had taken place, the idea occurred to her presently of surprising Severus with breakfast in bed. With that thought in the forefront of her mind, and hoping he wouldn't awaken before she was finished with breakfast, Hermione hurried through the motions of getting everything ready. She made up two trays and levitated them up the stairs in front of her. Once she was in the room, she made sure both trays were gently and carefully placed on the nightstand and went to the bed to rouse Severus.
She kissed him on the lips, first lighly, then with more force, prodding him to wake up and respond. His lips were immovable at first, but then they began to return the kiss, increasing in intensity and passion. Before Hermione could stop, they were in a lip-locked battle.
When she finally pulled away, needing to get some air, Severus had his eyes fixed on her and rumbled, "Well, that was certainly a pleasant way to awaken in the morning."
"Good morning, Severus," Hermione intoned, beaming at him, "and happy Christmas, love."
Severus sat up in bed and blinked a couple of times, willing himself to fully wake. He returned the sentiments and glanced around, seeing the trays next to the bed. He cast her a quizzical look. "What are these for?" he asked.
"Breakfast," Hermione said simply. She handed one to Severus and took the other for herself, sitting next to him.
"Yet another unexpected surprise," Severus quipped, clearly pleased. "This may turn out to be a decent Christmas after all."
"Well, I hope it's more than just decent by the end of the day," Hermione said encouragingly. "Now, eat up."
Severus was immediately reminded of the previous day and glared at Hermione. She realized her mistake in word choice and said, "Er... you know what I mean. Sorry, I'm not forcing you or anything."
The glare lessened, and Severus focused his attention on the plate in front of him. The meal passed with minimal conversation, but in each other's presence, they didn't need words to express their gratitude and satisfaction.
After breakfast, Severus and Hermione took a shower together and dressed, although in their most casual and comfortable robes.
"Now what?" questioned Severus.
"Now we open presents," Hermione replied with a smile. Reaching for his hand, she led him downstairs.
Not only were there gifts for each other under the tree, but gifts from friends were there as well, delivered by owl. Hermione went through the gifts from her friends first, wanting to save Severus's presents for last. While Hermione opened gifts from Harry, Ron, and Ginny, he tried to keep from frowning. He hadn't expected anything from anyone, but a small part of him was jealous of the fact that Hermione had true friends who shared in the joy with her. He had never had that, until now. Watching Hermione's pretty smiling face and warm brown eyes, he realized he didn't need or desire anyone but her. She was his best friend, and even if she hadn't gotten him boxes of wrapped presents, just her being here would have been enough.
More than enough, he thought, a pensive look on his face.
When Hermione had finished opening the gifts from her friends, she noticed Severus's expression. "Are you all right, Severus?"
"Yes, fine," he murmured. He grabbed one of his gifts for her and handed it to her. "Here, open it."
Hermione did so and was touched to find a locket inside. Severus explained that it had belonged to his mother, and he wanted her to have it, seeing as they would one day be wed. She threw her arms around him, thanking him profusely.
Hermione insisted on Severus opening her gifts to him next. She had gotten him some books and rare potion ingredients. He was difficult to shop for, but he was grateful for the effort on her part. They spent the next few minutes exchanging presents and were finally exhausted from the process of unwrapping. The living room was strewn with ribbons and paper by the end of it all, but spirits were bright indeed.
They spent the rest of the day together, enjoying each other's company and having a simple lunch and dinner. They didn't need fancy clothes or expensive food to have a good time, nor did they need to crowd of rowdy people around to liven the atmosphere.
As the day drew to a close, the couple was seated on the couch, with Hermione curled up close to Severus, warm in his arms. A crackling fire was burning before them in the grate, and they were both staring into the flames, entranced by their beatific dance.
Hermione felt a hand come to rest on her knee, and she diverted her attention from the fire and looked into Severus's searching eyes. She tried to read him, but as she lost herself in his deep, smouldering gaze, she found herself in seeing her reflection staring back at her, illuminated by the soft glow of firelight.
"You were right, as usual, when you said this Christmas would be different," Severus said huskily.
Hermione's lips quirked into a smile. He was simply so endearing to her! "I am glad," she replied. The response was plain, but what more could words express? Words failed miserably.
Hermione placed a hand behind his head and eased his face toward hers. Once again, they were lost in a world dominated by intoxicating love. Their passions grew, and they each one gave to the other the gift of themselves. Hours later, in the dim afterglow of the fire, their passions still burned, unaltered by the waning of the day.
Days die, as do flames in their last blinking feeble attempts at sparking back into existence, but love is kindled and rekindled by a deeper passion - a passion of the heart on fire.
That makes for a very happy Christmas, indeed.