The two weeks leading up to the Christmas break - and to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party - were busy at Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick's newly-formed Charms Club had done an excellent job of decorating the castle, including the Christmas trees that Hagrid had brought in to fill the Great Hall. In an attempt to ward off the usual 'Christmas shenanigans' (as Professor McGonagall put it), the professors were assigning lots of homework. One of Professor Snape's letters told her that this was also a way to keep students' minds occupied, at a time when the losses during the war would be particularly felt.

The eighth years had an evening where they chose to put aside all school work and sit together in their common room to share a drink and memories of those they had lost. It was an evening of tears and laughter, with hugs and sympathy shared liberally amongst them. Padma, in particular, had a bad time, but appreciated the support of her friends. Several bottles of elf-made wine helped the evening along, but Hermione wondered if perhaps Michael and Mandy had imbibed a little too much when they retreated first to a couch in a corner of the room, then to Michael's bedroom.

"It's not the wine," Seamus told her confidently. "I went to Michael's room to ask about Transfiguration homework one night, and Mandy was there, all giggly. He asked me not to say anything, but they seem to be pretty much in the open tonight, so I suppose it doesn't matter."

"They seemed to be quite happy about it," Hermione smiled.

"Of course they are. They've been shagging like rabbits. The wards still stop boys going into girls' rooms, so Mandy has spent most nights in Michael's room for the past week. At least it's easier for them than Terry. He's going out with a seventh-year Hufflepuff. He can't get into the Hufflepuff common room and she can't get in here, so they have to find places around the castle. It's too cold to go into the forest or anywhere like that."

Later that night, with her head still buzzing from a little too much wine, Hermione lay in bed and considered what Seamus had said. She was aware that some of her friends had been having sex, and it seemed like more were pairing-up all the time. Ginny and Harry were almost certainly doing it, judging by the way they were all over each other whenever she saw them together. Ron had had several one-night-stands, according to Harry's letters, and Neville was seeing someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

She was behind many of her peers in that respect, having engaged in some heavy petting with Ron, but nothing beyond, apart from a few kisses with Victor. She thought of Professor Snape and her stomach gave an excited lurch. Images formed in her mind of kissing him, and feeling his hands touching her body. It was a delicious feeling. Slowly, she moved her hands to her breasts over her pyjamas, rubbing and squeezing. Would it feel the same way, if it were him touching them?

Feeling foolish and self-conscious, despite being alone, she brought one hand up to her face and kissed the back of it, pretending it was him she was kissing. She didn't do this kind of thing very often, but had been feeling more and more of an urge to, thinking about him so much, lately.

Her hand slid inside the shirt of her pyjamas to touch her breast directly. It made her feel tingly. She started to move her hand downwards to her pyjama bottoms and touch her crotch, but it felt strange. Forbidden. Not that she thought there was anything wrong with sex, but the idea of… masturbating… felt awkward. She sighed and let her hands fall to her sides on the bed.

She couldn't get him out of her mind.

Was there any chance that he felt the same way about her, she wondered. He definitely seemed to enjoy talking to her, both in person and through their letters. He smiled at her when they talked, and even laughed occasionally. It wasn't the excited laugh of Professor Flitwick, or the pleased beaming of Professor Slughorn; it was a calm and soft smile that made his eyes seem warm as he looked at her. She thought he liked her more than just as a friend, but she didn't want to get her hopes up and feel like an idiot. Was she just a silly schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher?

But he doesn't think of me as a student , she told herself.

Suppose he did like her... what then? They could hardly have a relationship with him as a teacher and her as a student, even though she was above the usual age of students. He would probably be fired, and when the Daily Prophet found out, his reputation would, once again, be destroyed. Anything that happened between them would have to be in secret, but it would be dangerous. There would be too much risk of being discovered. No - nothing could happen while she was still at school.

If he even liked her, that way.

Ugh. Her head was still fuzzy from wine, and her thoughts were spinning. She was getting nowhere, and needed to sleep. Missing an evening of study meant she would have more to catch up on the next night.

She rolled over and snuggled into her blankets, imagining a warm body spooning behind her, with a strong arm wrapped around her as she drifted into sleep.

Hermione looked down at the gift she was about to wrap. It had taken her a long time to decide on an appropriate Christmas present for Professor Snape, but she knew she had found the perfect item in the end.

The quill was not gold plated or from an exotic species or anything extravagant; it was a simple raven feather. The black ink was smooth and quick-drying, perfect for his spiky script. But it was the stand that she loved. It was made of a rich mahogany, with a space for an ink pot and a stand for the pen.

It had been tricky to learn to control the engraving spell well enough to write his name neatly across the wood. She wanted it in her own handwriting, but using the spell was not as easy as writing with ink. Several pieces of scrap wood lay on the desk, each bearing the name Severus Snape, evidence of her gradually improving practice. Only once she could write it perfectly every time did she risk writing on the stand itself.

The shopkeeper in Hogsmeade had offered to engrave it for her, but this was better.

She vanished her earlier tries, then pulled out the paper and ribbon she had bought. Running her fingers one last time over the engraved letters, she placed the ink, pen and stand in their box then waved her wand and watched the paper fold itself into a perfect package. The ribbon pulled itself into an elegant bow, and she attached the neat label.

To Professor Snape

From Hermione Granger

Merry Christmas

x

"Miss Granger," boomed Professor Slughorn's voice as she stepped inside his office, "and Miss Weasley! Welcome."

As it had been at the previous Christmas party she had attended, Professor Slughorn's office was draped like a tent. It was a little gaudy for her tastes, but very festive, with sparkling decorations hovering above, and tinsel looping all around. It seemed considerably larger than last time.

At the sound of their names, Harry and Ron appeared, rushing over to hug them. Hermione turned to smirk at Ron, as Harry and Ginny kissed each other, but she was stopped by the slightly hopeful-looking expression on his face. She frowned and rolled her eyes slightly, hoping to let him know that it wasn't going to happen. He merely shrugged.

Hermione looked around to see who was already there. She immediately noticed Kingsley talking to Professor McGonagall and Professor Williams. Neville was nearby, holding hands with a tall, pretty woman, and they were talking to a witch who looked vaguely familiar to Hermione - she had a feeling she was a quidditch player, but she couldn't remember her name. At the far side of the room, Terry Boot and Maria Reynolds were looking uncomfortable, talking to a stout, balding wizard and a tall witch with sharp, angular features.

Many of the faces were people she didn't recognize, and the room was getting more crowded as Professor Slughorn welcomed more guests. She recognized a man who had tried to persuade Harry to let him write his biography at the last party. Didn't he have a vampire with him last time? she wondered, nervously.

Harry took her arm and led her and Ginny to meet his boss, Gawain Robards. She had seen him at Professor Snape's trial, but had never actually met him. He was a pleasant man, who obviously thought highly of Harry. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger," he said, warmly. "And Miss Weasley, it's good to finally meet you. I feel like I already know you, from Mr. Potter's descriptions."

They chatted for a while, then Neville came over to them.

"Hermione, you look amazing," he said. "I want you to meet my girlfriend, Alison." Hermione liked her immediately, and was happy to see the way she and Neville held hands the whole time. They seemed very suited to each other. She seemed a little shy, but warmed up quickly as they chatted.

Hermione saw two dark figures out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see Professor Snape nearby, talking to the lead singer of the Weird Sisters.

She felt her heart flutter as she saw him. He caught her eye and she was sure she saw pleasure on his face, at seeing her. She had spent hours getting ready for the party and, while she usually felt very self-conscious, she knew that she looked good. Her robes were perfect in a royal blue that looked great with her hair, and her wild curls had been tamed into smooth waves. It was so rare for her to put much effort into her appearance, but tonight she felt beautiful, and it was all for the wizard standing in front of her.

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said, shaking Neville's hand. "Miss Granger." He smiled at her, then turned to Neville's date, Alison. "Miss McCormack," he said, with a nod. For a moment, Alison looked like a mouse peering up in fear at a cat, but then she smiled and greeted him politely. Hermione was puzzled until she realized that Professor Snape would have taught Alison potions not too many years ago. No wonder she looked scared, but she was pleased to see that Snape's expression was friendly and not the intimidating visage she would remember from school. "Have you met Mr. Wagtail?" he asked them.

"Myron, please," the singer smiled. Then he stepped forward to kiss Alison on the cheek. "Hey, Al."

Everyone else looked surprised until Alison explained. "My cousin Kirley is in the band," she told them, her face flushing slightly at everyone watching her. "Hi, Myron."

Myron looked at Neville, appraisingly. "So, this is why you haven't been to watch us, lately," he winked. "Kir said you were shagging an auror."

Alison and Neville both blushed and Hermione's jaw dropped in shock.

"I see you still possess the subtlety of an erumpent, Wagtail," Snape drawled.

"Erm… Myron, this is Neville," Alison stuttered, "and this is Hermione."

He shook Neville's hand, then turned to Hermione in surprise. "Hermione Granger?" he asked. "The photos in The Prophet always make you look like a frump."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure Rita Skeeter picks them out especially. She hates me."

"I'm surprised any photo of you can look bad," he told her, looking her up and down approvingly. "You look gorgeous. Would you like to come with me to get a drink?" He nodded towards the bar.

She smiled, but shook her head. "I should be getting back to my date, soon," she said.

Myron sighed, exaggeratedly. "Oh, well. I had to try," he said. "I'll see you later."

He gave the group a wave and headed towards the bar. Neville and Alison wandered off, still looking extremely embarrassed at Myron's words, leaving Hermione and Snape together.

"You are here with someone?" he asked quietly.

She smiled at him, feeling suddenly almost shy. "No, but I didn't want to get a drink with him," she said. "I… I thought about asking someone, but I decided it's better to be alone than with the wrong person." Their eyes met and a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them.

"Indeed," he agreed.

A house-elf passed them with a tray of drinks, and he scooped up two glasses of wine, handing one to Hermione. "To the right person," he said, raising his glass. She mimicked his motion and took a sip, her eyes not leaving his.

"Professor, I…"

"Ah, there he is," came Slughorn's loud voice. "Severus, my boy - just the person we were talking about."

Slughorn arrived with Luna Lovegood, Thomas Dagworth and Harry's would-be-biographer in his wake. "Eldred and I were just saying what a wonderful article that was about you in The Quibbler. Mr. Dagwood and Miss Lovegood are going to do great things with their newspaper."

Snape nodded to them. "It was excellently written," he agreed, "and far more accurate than anything published in The Prophet."

"Mr. Worple was saying that he'd like to do a biography on you, Professor Snape," Luna said, brightly, "but I told him you probably wouldn't like that very much."

"Quite right," Snape agreed. "I agreed to be interviewed by Miss Lovegood and Mr. Dagworth in order to set the story straight. That has been done, and I feel that enough has been written about me."

Worple laughed. "Not shy, are you, Snape?" he asked. "Well, you can always change your mind. It would be a best-seller, and we could make a fortune. I've been collecting all the information from The Prophet and The Quibbler about you. You'd make a fascinating subject!"

Hermione spoke up. "Any information you've got from the Daily Prophet isn't worth the parchment it's printed on. I think we've all had enough of the rubbish it publishes."

"Speaking of which," Thomas said, "someone told me that the editor of The Prophet would be here tonight. It would be interesting to meet him."

Slughorn shook his head, sadly. "Alas, I owled Barnabas two weeks ago and he said it would be unlikely that he could make it tonight. He has been quite ill. Still, he's not been doing well for some time. His wife died during the war, you know, and he's been in a bad way ever since."

Hermione wondered if this was why Rita Skeeter had been able to publish whatever she wanted. During the war, The Prophet had been under the control of the ministry, and therefore Voldemort, but before that it had seemed to be relatively unbiased. Of course, Rita had never liked Hermione, but there had been nothing like the vendetta that she seemed to have for Snape. She wondered how she could find out more. Still, that wasn't something she could think about tonight.

She turned her attention back to the others. Professor Snape was asking about how the other two students were doing with setting up their newspaper, and she listened with interest as Luna explained that her father might have a lead on a used printing press.

It was an enjoyable evening. She talked with many people she knew and met many others. Melinda Bobbin was a student who had been two years ahead of her, whose family owned several apothecaries. She had been a member of the Slug Club when she had been at Hogwarts, and was introduced by Thomas. Melinda seemed hesitant to meet her at first, but obviously knew Thomas quite well and Hermione found that she liked her, once they were chatting. Kingsley came over to talk to her, but didn't stay long as he was in constant demand. He reminded her that her place in the ministry was waiting for her as soon as she was ready to take it. She gave him a bright smile and thanked him before he was pulled away into a discussion on the current state of relations with the Magical Congress of the United States of America.

A chat with Professor Williams proved to be very interesting. "Are you here as someone's guest, Professor, or did you manage to get your own invitation?" she asked him.

He gave her a sly smile. "I did a little name-dropping with Professor Slughorn, and he suddenly decided I was worth inviting."

"And I thought you had decided you were a Hufflepuff," came Snape's voice, joining them. "That sounds more like a Slytherin tactic."

Williams chuckled. "Well, Miss Granger told me once that it was worth the trouble to get an invitation," he said. "She wasn't wrong."

"She rarely is," smirked Professor Snape. "So whose name did you drop, to get on the guest list?"

Professor Williams nodded across the room, to where the minister of magic was talking to Slughorn and three witches that Hermione didn't recognize. "Kingsley's," he said. When both Hermione and Snape looked surprised, he explained "My half-sister is married to Kingsley's cousin. I've only met him once before tonight, but I didn't mention that to Slughorn. I might have exaggerated the closeness of the family connection, too."

Hermione laughed. "Definitely part Slytherin," she said.

"Actually, it was Flitwick's idea, so maybe the deviousness isn't only a Slytherin trait."

"Or maybe it's just that when dealing with Slytherins, you sometimes have to resort to their own tactics."

"Perhaps, Miss Granger. Perhaps," commented the former head of the house in question.

"You're enjoying yourself, then?" she asked Williams.

"Very much. A group of my second-years played some Weird Sisters music for me a few weeks ago, and I liked it. I've actually met some of the band members tonight. And the lady talking to the Headmistress over there is a werewolf. She seems so tiny and dainty it barely seems possible. She said she takes a potion to control the wolf at the full moon."

Snape grunted an affirmative. "Slughorn is brewing it for her and several others right now, but after Christmas I believe I will take over the brewing. Without it she would have to be locked up at the full moon. There have been too many incidents of werewolves escaping and injuring people, so taking the Wolfsbane potion is essential."

Hermione turned to look at the grim expression on his face, and remembered, with a shudder, the time that he had placed himself between the transfigured Lupin and herself, Harry and Ron.

At one point during the evening, Hermione found herself stuck in a conversation about muggle medicine with two wizards who were confident in their expert knowledge, but actually knew almost nothing about it. The taller of the two had introduced himself as Jonas Appleyard, and the other as Titus Shaw. Titus was a healer and started out by talking about some of the latest developments in wandless diagnostics, but had wandered off the topic to talk excitedly about muggle surgery. She was torn between irritation and amusement about the amount of misinformation that two wizards had about the subject. Hermione was hardly an expert, but she knew enough to know how ridiculous their ideas were. When he had learned that she was muggle born, Jonas had begun to ask her questions and prompt her to confirm what he was saying, but he was so busy talking that he rarely let her speak and didn't listen to her when she did.

Nodding and trying to look vaguely interested, while searching for an excuse to edge away, her eye caught sight of Professor Snape, standing alone by the table of food. She followed his gaze to see that he was looking at Ron, under the mistletoe in the far corner of the room, locking lips with a witch who she was fairly sure was on the Wimbourne Wasps quidditch team. She glanced back at Snape, whose eyes were now on her. Was it possible that he was thinking the same thing as her? Was he wishing it could be the two of them under the mistletoe, thinking of nothing else but each other, or was she fooling herself in thinking that she could see desire in his eyes?

Her attention was pulled back to the two annoying wizards by a question about the use of alcohol to put patients to sleep, and by the time she was able to look back towards Snape, he was talking to Gwenog Jones.

She was thankful that Harry and Ginny rescued her soon afterwards. Harry was going to walk Ginny back to the Gryffindor tower, and asked if Hermione would like to walk with them as far as the eighth-year common room.

"Thanks, Harry, but I want to say goodnight to a few people before I leave. I'll apparate to Grimmauld Place tomorrow from King's Cross when the train arrives."

Hermione went to wish Neville and Alison a Merry Christmas, then went to find Ron, to say goodnight.

"If you are looking for Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I believe he left a few minutes ago with his 'friend'." Professor Snape smirked as he approached her. "I do hope they don't try to apparate after drinking so much. I wouldn't want either of them to get splinched."

"I don't think he would risk it," she said. "He's been splinched before so he knows how unpleasant it is."

"Are you leaving?" he asked her. When she nodded, he added "As am I."

They walked towards the door... not together, but as though they just happened to be leaving at about the same time. Hermione left first and walked slowly along the dark corridor, allowing him to catch up with her.

She turned as he approached, and handed him the gift that she had pulled out of her beaded bag. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter's elf brought me my post a few days ago, and I gave your Christmas present to him. It should be already under the tree at Grimmauld Place."

She smiled. "I hope you have a good Christmas, Professor." Feeling suddenly brave, she moved towards him, meaning to kiss his cheek, but stopped as they heard voices coming towards them. More people were leaving the party.

She stepped back, inwardly cursing the timing of the other partygoers.

"Good night, Miss Granger," said Professor Snape, softly, "and Merry Christmas."