A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 11 - Gifts of Various Sorts

Dueling Club and Christmas shopping

4 December 1998

Severus Snape had had it up to *here* with Holly Martinez. She was loud, she was opinionated and, worst of all, impossible to intimidate. As Defence Professor, she saw it as her right to dictate the activities of Dueling Club, never once asking him for input. And any time Dueling Club was brought into the conversation by the other professors, she continually critiqued his handling of the week she was away. He was determined that this evening's Dueling Club would be the night that he would show her up. He made sure to be the first to arrive and set the room up much like an arena, a magical circle in the middle of the room that only the duelers could cross into and no spells could leave. He'd been practicing the technique after some third years nearly hexed their neighbors several weeks before and was pleased to finally be able to put it to use. It was the fifth and final meeting before the Christmas holidays and he had in mind a little competition.

Professor Holly Martinez arrived a good fifteen minutes later dressed in her usual Ilvermorny dueling robes. Her face quickly turned from a careful neutral position to that of a scowl.

"What is this nonsense?" she snapped, marching straight up to Professor Snape and doing her best to look him in the eye, though she was a good foot shorter than he. If she had known him better, she'd have known it was a foolish thing to do, but quite frankly she had never bothered to form any sort of firm opinion of the wizard, aside from in the instances where she was irritated by his behaviour, which to her seemed unseemly in a professor. She'd heard the rumours, that he was a spy, that he had saved many lives…. but to her he was simply a wizard to, at best, tolerate. When she could manage.

Severus was tempted just then to see how good, if at all, she was with Occlumency, but was distracted when a few students came into the room. He smirked at the interruption, knowing she would now look foolish if she tried to criticise his plans for the evening and would earn herself another meeting with McGonagall. A few weeks ago, after another blowup between them in a corridor, the Headmistress had lectured them both, at the same time, about putting up a united front before the students. It was a humiliating moment that neither had spoken of since.

"We're going to do peer evaluations tonight, Professor Martinez," he replied in a forced, honeyed tone. "I'm sure you'll agree that they'll respond well and will have a better sense of their newfound capabilities."

Her mouth twitched and he was sure that she was itching to say something particularly rude, but held her tongue. His own lips curled into a knowing smirk which caused her to narrow her eyes. She stalked away and welcomed the students as they trickled through the open door.

Severus nodded politely at the students who greeted him, but stayed just in front of the glowing circle on the floor. When the final student entered and the door was shut, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Tonight is our final meeting before the holidays. As this is not a class, there will be no exams or homework given. Instead we will give you all a chance to show what you've learned and likewise receive feedback from your peers. Professor Martinez and I will monitor the duels tonight for safety only. You will be asked to duel someone from your year, seventh and eighth years will be put together. Questions?"

His dark eyes swept over the group. There was a faint whispering, but no hands in the air, not even from Miss Granger.

"Professor Martinez, if you will be so kind as to call up our first pair?"

She recovered quickly from her surprise at being asked to do something and called up two third years that she knew were comfortable in dueling one another. The evening went by smoothly, students calling out helpful advice during the duels and offering pointers afterward. Severus hid a self-satisfied smile. There were only a few students left when Hermione was called up with Luna. The room was quieter as each girl did her best to outmanoeuvre the other. It only ended when Hermione's concentration was broken by Severus suddenly shouting at a few boys who decided to hex Draco while everyone else was busy watching the duel. She looked away for a split second to see who it was and that was when Luna hit her with a full body bind. Severus glanced back just in time to see a stiff Hermione fall over, caught only moments before she crashed to the stone floor by a quick Arresto Momentum cast by her opponent.

"Quick thinking, Miss Lovegood," he noted aloud.

Luna gave him an odd smile and released Hermione from the binding spell.

Professor Martinez called up a pair of fifth years before walking over to where Severus was snarling at a three younger students.

"What seems to be the matter, Professor?" Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

"One or more of these dunderheads just hit Mr. Malfoy with stinging hexes while he was watching the duel. You will all hand in your wands to Professor Martinez while she sees who cast the hex. I will leave her to decide your punishment." He glanced over at Draco, who was doubled over on the floor.

"Granger!" he called. The witch scurried over to them, looking around the small crowd gathered. "Take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."

"Yes, sir," she nodded and helped the blond to his feet. They slowly made their way from the door, Draco leaning on Hermione as he hobbled across the stone floor.

When Snape turned around, Holly Martinez was still busy checking wands from five different students. He glared at the lot of them and they cringed slightly. Good, he thought. They had better be afraid.

"Russell, Knox, and Langdon," the American professor snapped. Three heads snapped to attention. "You will be serving detention with Mr. Filch every weekend until Christmas and there will be no last visit to Hogsmeade before the holidays. You are also henceforth barred from Dueling Club until I decide otherwise. Are we clear?"

Once they and the other students had been dismissed, Severus decided to indulge himself ever so slightly.

"So you do believe in disciplining students after all." He smirked as he addressed Martinez.

'I most certainly do," she huffed. "And I don't need to belittle them to do it."

Something flashed in Snape's eyes and apparently she noticed.

"Thought you were clever tonight, didn't you? It's a nice piece of spellwork, of course, but you could have at least mentioned it beforehand."

"I was not aware that we were actually working together."

She huffed in irritation.

"Do you constantly feel the need to be a pain in the ass?"

"Do you constantly feel the need to treat me like thestral shite stuck to your overpriced boots?"

"You are by far the worst wizard I've ever had to work with!"

"You are the most disrespectful witch I have ever worked with. And that includes Alecto Carrow."

"I don't need to be in your fucking fan club to do my job, Snape."

"Then you'd best stay out. of. my. way."

Just then a familiar curly head poked in the door. "Excuse me, prof–" She stopped and squeaked at the sight of her two professors glaring at one another.

Their heads snapped to look at her.

"What, Miss Granger?" Snape spat.

"I just wanted to let you know, er, Madam Pomfrey said Malfoy will be fine for tomorrow and to let you know that she's running low on swelling paste."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Alright."

"I'm sorry," the girl sighed.

The Defence professor took a deep breath and turned completely toward Hermione.

"Thank you for letting us know, dear."

Hermione nodded slowly and left them.

"You could have been at least a bit more polite to her," she admonished Snape when the door closed once more.

"If I were too polite, she would suspect Polyjuice, Martinez. You'll find that Miss Granger is not too easily rattled."

"I don't know how she's coping with you as her advisor for the year."

"Perhaps you should ask her yourself if you're that concerned. Minerva insisted on it, though why I cannot imagine. I tried to convince her otherwise.

Martinez hummed to herself as she considered it. She then did something entirely uncharacteristic of her: she held out her hand.

"Truce?"

"Excuse me?" Snape looked at her with eyebrow raised.

"I don't exactly like you and you don't like me, but it seems we need to learn to work together." She tilted her hand slightly, still waiting for him to shake it. "Prove me wrong, Snape."

His lip curled as he considered the import of her words. He was tired of proving himself. But he knew he also could do with a drama-free existence and if this could give it to him, he'd be a fool not to take it. At least this time he wasn't condemning himself to lifetime of servitude.

He at last extended his own hand to hers and shook. Something like a tiny burst of magic was felt as they sealed their pact. She gave him an odd look, but also a small smile.

"We'll plan the next one after Christmas vacation. Together."

"Fine," he replied evenly, removing himself from her grasp. He wasn't altogether convinced that they were capable of doing such a thing, but it was either try or resign himself to several more months of her being a veritable thorn in his side.

After Hermione reported back to her professors, she found herself retaking the path back to the infirmary. Draco was still curled up on his cot, though his face seemed more relaxed.

"I didn't tell you, those three got detention with Filch every weekend until the holidays and no Hogsmeade."

"Nice of my godfather to finally do something."

"Oh, it was Martinez."

"Really now…" he replied with interest.

Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "She and Snape were at each others' throats when I went back down."

"Snape hates her, you know."

"But why would he?"

"She hates him. For a smart girl, you can be dull."

She rapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ow, be nice to me or I'll call Pomfrey."

"Hush you, I know you're full of shite anyway."

"You're right, that woman is a nightmare."

Hermione made a face.

"So…" she began tentatively, "about Christmas."

"Yeah?"

"I wrote the Weasleys. I'm going to stay until after Boxing Day. Well, I think I'll be at Harry's until Christmas, but that's not important. So I thought that, well, I could come to yours on the 27th?"

"For how many days?" He felt his heart clench, waiting for her to say just for a day or two.

Instead she turned pink. "Well… I… could I stay until term restarts?"

Draco visibly relaxed and her own heart leaped with joy.

"Of course," he said quickly, as if afraid she might change her mind if he took too long. "I'll owl Mother and let her know."

"You're sure it's alright?"

"More than alright. She's the one who offered to have a room ready."

"That's very kind of her."

"I have a small favour to ask, Granger."

"Of course!"

"I had hoped to do a little research this semester, but I haven't had the time. But…"

"You want my help?" Her enthusiasm threatened to bubble over.

"Yeah, though it's about family magic."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Of course you have family magic. You're a pureblood, sacred 28. Goodness, I just… I'm just surprised you'd talk to me about it."

"Because I associate with you now, you've forgotten that I'm one of them?"

"Well… that's not it exactly."

"What is it, Granger?"

"Isn't family magic usually a secret?"

"In this case, so much so that no one understands what my grandfather was going on about in his journals. He caught Dragon Pox and suddenly died before he could tell us about it. And then there were the wars and Father had other things to worry about."

"Right," she replied softly. "And you're sure that you want my help?"

"If we can't figure it out together, I'm not sure anyone will."

He said it with such conviction that she found herself beaming from that moment until she was back in bed trying to fall asleep. He thought she was smart. He wanted her help. He wanted to figure it out together.

19 December 1998

Hermione had been studying feverishly and writing essays until her fingers threatened to cramp. Draco had been by her side, doing much the same. It was with relief that Draco stretched one morning and remembered not only that it was Saturday, it was also a day in Hogsmeade. He'd promised to meet Blaise for a late lunch, which left the morning for doing any Christmas shopping he'd planned. His stomach fluttered anxiously. Granger would be coming to his house just after Christmas. He should get her a gift then, right? It would be the polite thing to do. And knowing her, she probably would have one for him. Finding her a birthday gift was nerve-racking enough, but as he reflected, he remembered that she'd been rather pleased with it. Changing out of his pajamas and pulling on warm clothing, Draco headed to breakfast and was pleased to find a place near Hermione.

"What do you think your mum would like for Christmas, Malfoy?"

The question caught him by surprise, but he poured himself a tea and replied, "She rather fancies the Christmas taffy assortment from Honeydukes."

"Thanks. I'd hate to show up empty-handed."

He grinned. He'd been so right about her. He just hadn't thought about her also shopping for his mother.

By the time he met Blaise that afternoon for lunch, he had only two small bags in his possession: a beautifully engraved brooch he'd found for his mother and another book for Hermione, this time the one on runes that she had been looking at the last time they were in Hogsmeade. Quite frankly, he was at a loss.

"Hey, mate," he greeted his long time friend.

"Drake, what's wrong? You look like you've just been assigned feeding blast-ended skrewts over the holiday."

"Shut it, Zabini."

"Go order your lunch at the counter and then you can tell me the whole sad story," he smirked.

As they two young wizards ate, Draco slowly admitted feeling woefully inept in finding a gift for Hermione and that he'd settled on something safe: knowledge. The two of them talked over what they supposed a girl like Hermione might possibly like, but Blaise was no better at coming up with something useful than Draco. By the time Draco parted, he felt even sillier. What kind of message would it send if he only ever gave her books? He was mulling this over as he walked back through Hogsmeade one last time when something caught his eye: in the window of an antiques shop he saw a tiny wooden box with a crank. He decided to push the shop door open which jingled, announcing his presence. Only seconds later, a short, graying wizard appeared before him.

"How may I help you?" the man inquired, his voice sounding as dusty as his shop.

"The small box in the window, can you tell me about it?"

"Ah, the music box? Let me fetch it and I'll tell you its story."

Draco checked the time while the man's back was turned. He had a good two hours left before he was due to head back to the castle. The shop owner returned only moments later, the small wooden box perched on the palm of his hand. He carefully turned the crank with his other hand and a soothing melody filled the room.

"Apparently this was made for an Irish witch who had lost her brother in a terrible accident at sea. Beside herself with grief, she neither ate nor slept for months, aside from when a friend managed to force her to eat a bit of broth or slip her a bit of sleeping potion. One day a wizard came to town and fell hopelessly in love with the witch and vowed that he would do anything to cure her sorrow. This wizard was a gifted musician and began making weekly visits to her house where her family was grateful to anyone who would be willing to help her stop from wasting away. He would bring with him a glass flute, endeavoring to find the tune that would find its way to her heart. After a year, she was still nearly catatonic, but he didn't give up. At last, he wrote this song and as he played it for her the first time, he saw that she slowly glanced in his direction, something she'd never done before. He continued playing it and the story goes that after a week of him coming to play that song every day for an hour, she slowly regained her health. Sadly he passed away from illness only months after, but not before the song was made into a music box, so that she could listen to it whenever she began to feel sad again."

"May I look at the box?"

"Certainly." The man carefully handed it to Draco.

As he looked it over, Draco noted its simple design, a small sunflower etched into the wood on the top with "to M.H." etched into the underside.

"I'll buy it," he said with a nod. It was make a lovely gift, all the better with the story that went along with it. Whether that story was true or not was irrelevant; the music itself was beautiful.

With a quick exchange of several galleons (she need never know how many), Draco left the shop, the small box wrapped carefully in paper tucked into the bag from the book shop.

Hermione's day in Hogsmeade was nothing like she had planned. Several of the girls had wanted to go shopping together and at first she refused, hoping to take refuge in Tomes and Scrolls, the local book shop, but she eventually allowed herself to be convinced to join the others, even when it involved a bit of whirlwind shopping in Gladrags. The other girls, Ginny included, were shopping for dresses for both Christmas and New Year's, as well as doing a little shopping for family members.

"Mione," Ginny suddenly called out, "take a look at this one." She was holding up a red, sparkling dress that flared out at the hips. "This would be perfect with one of those little silver belts."

"Yeah, you should buy it," Hermione said encouragingly.

"Not for me, silly, you!"

"Why would I need a dress, Gin? It's not like we have a fancy party with your family."

"Because you're not just spending the holiday at the Burrow, are you?"

Hermione's cheeks grew slightly pink.

"No, but-"

"You need to dress up a bit for him," her friend teased.

"Oh, come off it. I'm going there to do research and visit a henge, not have cocktails and caviar."

"Are you sure about that?"

"That would be a bit much for such a small group, don't you think?"

"Hermione, this is Narcissa Malfoy we're talking about."

Mandy Brocklehurst approached, overhearing the end of the conversation. "You're spending the holiday with Malfoy?" Her eyebrows were raised, though the smile tugging at her lips showed that she was hardly surprised. "In that case, get the dress. And a few more, depending on how long you're staying."

"Oh but-" Hermione began, looking a bit flustered.

"Trust me, you'll thank us later," Mandy nodded sagely. Ginny grinned and gave Hermione a wink.

Their curly-headed classmate turned on her heel with a huff and went to examine some flannel pajamas. That would be a safe thing to consider and hardly so… pretentious, she thought to herself. But as she looked through the racks and finally selected a navy flannel set as her old ones were getting thin, she considered what the other girls had said. Perhaps it would be wise to have a few options on hand over the holiday since she had no idea what she would be doing at Malfoy's.

After a bit of hemming and hawing, she did decide on the red dress and a black one as well, the silver belt working perfectly with them both. She also picked up a few gifts for some of the Weasleys and Harry before the group moved on to the new shop.

By the time the afternoon drew to a close, Hermione felt ridiculous carrying so many shopping bags. She felt like a spendthrift, burning through her sickles (and quite a few galleons as well), but couldn't resist when she finally would find that perfect gift for someone. She'd even picked up a small something for Draco and even Blaise, not wanting to leave the other wizard out. She only hoped that they would like what she chose. Just before it was time to walk back to the castle, she made one final stop at Honeydukes, buying some confectionary gifts, including a few sugar quills for herself.

When she got back to her room and sat down all the bags, she collapsed onto her bed, her feet tired from a day of shopping and dreading the walk back down to the Great Hall for dinner. She was thankful that most of the shops offered giftwrap services as she began sorting the gifts, putting gifts for the Weasleys and Harry in a cloth zip bag that she had magically enlarged and made more sturdy, a smaller one for her trip to Malfoy Manor and an even smaller one that she sat on her desk with a grimace. It was a bit of sweets for Professor Snape, though she had no idea if he even liked that sort of thing. She decided the best course of action would be to see if he was in his rooms before dinner and if not, she could pass it to him in the Hall on their way out.

It was soon nearly time for the final dinner before the holiday and Hermione tucked the small bag into a hidden pocket of her robes. She crept quietly out her door and through the common room, not wanting to explain to anyone where she was going or why. Looking around carefully, she slipped out the door and down the hall where the dour professor's rooms were. She swallowed nervously and knocked. She waited for a few minutes and was turning to leave when the door opened quietly.

"What is it now, Granger?" came the tired voice.

She swiveled her head to the doorway and shoved a hand into her pocket.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," she chirped, attempting to sound pleasant.

His nostrils flared, but his face reflected only resignation.

"Happy Christmas," she announced, thrusting forward the small bag. "I'll be gone for the holidays, but wanted to thank you for… well, for your help this year."

He stared at her blankly, but gently plucked the bag from her fingers and looked inside. His mouth twitched for only a second. If she hadn't been watching him so intently, she would have missed it.

"Thank you, Granger. That was highly unnecessary."

"It's nothing, Professor. I'll, er, see you at dinner." And with that she scurried away.

Severus Snape closed his door and deposited the bag on a small table, rifling through its contents once more. Granger had given him Peppermint Imps, a bar of chocolate, and small bag of candies that apparently turned one's tongue various colours. It was a rather silly gift for someone as boring as himself, but he had to admit (deep, deep down) that it was a kind gesture. As he further reflected, he noted that made twice that year that she had presented him with a gift. Severus was not used to gifts, especially ones from students that weren't some form of prank. With an odd emotion threatening to colour his usual bleak take on holidays, he swept out of his room and headed for the Great Hall, hoping to find some student breaking the rules along the way. To his chagrin, there was only a first year who'd managed to get himself stuck to a suit of armour thanks to Peeves. He un-stuck the student, lectured him on the importance of never letting Peeves get the upper hand, and continued on to the evening feast.

As he took his seat at the Head Table, he looked over the students thoughtfully. Gone was the awful tension of the past. House rivalry was still alive and well, but less vindictive. And the Eighth Years seem to have proven that McGonagall had been right about something: those who had been through some of the worst of the war were willing to put pettiness aside in this new era of peace. Eventually. He noted that some students still gave Malfoy a wide berth, but the young wizard scowled far less and smiled more now. It was suspicious at first, but the other students were growing steadily less wary. He wondered if Granger had anything to do with that. She was loyal and stubborn and woe to anyone who tried to harm people she had laid claim to. Was she that way with him as well? He'd heard rumours of the fact. The very thought of it gave him a headache, so it was best not to dwell. The rest of the staff was high on holiday cheer and he allowed them to now and again engage him in conversation, though his eyes never wandered too far from his godson and the curly-haired witch beside him. At one moment during the meal, she'd leaned over and whispered something in the young man's ear and was met with a friendly grin. He wondered if Lucius knew about this and what he would say. But it wasn't his story to tell, so he would say nothing until solicited. The meal slowly dragged to an end and even Martinez had attempted to smile his way as she wished them all a Happy Christmas in turn. Apparently she was going back to the States to see her family. The most he could manage in return was a faint, pained grimace. He, too, would be going home, but home was hardly anything to wax eloquently about.

A/N: Thank you, dear readers, for your patience! Life has been pretty weird, things were going full tilt again (including for work), but now things have suddenly tightened up once more and I have no idea what that will mean for my schedule. Needless to say, I'll keep going on this as I can. Thank you once again for the reviews, follows and favourites. It warms my heart!