Severus took a deep breath, counted to ten, scowled at the clock. He sighed dramatically and pushed the cauldron of tainted potion aside.
He had long since lost track of time, spending day and night working on an experimental potion to keep his memories intact. He could have made a good fortune by sending a patent to the Ministry and concluding a contract with Saint Mungo's. In the Hospital, in the most distant and secret wards, there were victims of dark curses, veterans of both wars, who had irreparably lost their memory. The possibilities for the future were innumerable, but Severus wanted nothing to do with the future.
Severus had not remembered ever making any plans for his life. He developed a lifelong habit of following someone's directions. Albus' tasks, the Dark Lord's whims, or Poppy's and Minerva's friendly advice. Snape was never a master of his life. Unlike his headstrong wife, with whom he had only shared six short months.
Snape recalled how she constantly left her colorful planners everywhere, how she pinned a schedule for herself and him to the wall. She was always highlighting something with multi-colored markers, emphasizing the letters and sentences, rewriting the spells. After that, she usually went to his laboratory and plunged herself into work on another potion that would help neutralize the effects of dark spells.
Severus brushed the sweat off his face with a slightly trembling hand and straightened, catching his breath for a moment. Outside, it snowed heavily. The white blanket spread on the ground. The wind beat against the windows shooting ice against the glass, He could almost feel the breath of the blizzard through the fireplace. He watched the kettle that hung over the hearth rattle with the gusts.
Admiring the storm for a few seconds, Severus removed the tainted potion, cleaned up his workplace, and went in search of food. Crookshanks, hearing the familiar, barely audible steps, ran after him and jumped into a chair. Severus did not make any comment to the cat's rude behavior - the impudent ginger Furball made his dark days a little more bearable and reminded him of his last winter with Hermione.
At the dawn of their marriage, when they vainly tried to understand each other and found themselves fighting each time, Severus used to think that the only thing that bound him and his wife was the law imposed on him by the Ministry. They finally settled on the one commonality: their mutual workaholism. The minute Hermione came up with some idea, she immediately started losing track of hours, days, and weeks, spending her days in the Ministry, or Severus' laboratory, or in her study. Severus shared her passion, rightly believing that if you wanted to be successful in life, you had to work hard. However, as it turned out, his wife turned into a real disaster when it came to the holidays.
Christmas was approaching. Wizards and witches decorated the streets of Hogsmeade with colorful garlands, exhibited figurines of various magical creatures on the lawns in front of their houses, lit candles, and decorated Christmas trees. Severus frowned and muttered something about a waste of time. Hermione did not share his views on celebrating the holidays.
One day Hermione came from work earlier than usual, put a lot of multi-colored bags at the door, went up to her husband who was working on an article for the Potions Herald, and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
"Not that I'm trying to interrupt your fascinating work on another boring thesis, darling, but tell me, please, when was the last time you looked at the calendar?"
Severus crossed out a couple of sentences, checked his manuscript once again, filled a fountain pen with red ink, and only then deigned to pay attention to his wife.
"I don't see the need for pointless things, darling." The last word oozed with poison. Severus hated being interrupted from work, especially if he was asked stupid questions. Hermione was not ever going to stop pestering him with questions.
"You might be completely wrong, Severus. Christmas is coming, and I think that we just need to spend it traditionally."
"So, are we going to drink eggnog, bake gingerbread, eat a badly cooked festive goose, and sing Christmas carols offkey?" Severus frowned in response.
"Your sarcasm is completely inappropriate," Hermione replied and stuck her tongue out at Severus.
"As inappropriate as your obsession with unnecessary celebrations, and besides, I thought you were going to visit your parents in Australia." Severus picked up the pen again and returned to his theses. Hermione leaned closer, enveloping him in the scent of lilac and apricot - he could not figure out if this scent was the scent of her shampoo or it was the aroma of his own half-forgotten Amortentia.
"Let me decide who to spend my Christmas with. Besides, I wrote to mom and dad and promised to visit them at the end of February."
"And yet," Severus reluctantly put down his pen and raised his head, "What makes Christmas so special for you? If you feel like decorating the tree, you can always visit Minerva and Filius and compete with them in the arts of Charms and Transfiguration."
Hermione shook her head at Severus's invincible stubbornness, pushed aside his papers, and perched on his table.
"If I only wanted to decorate the tree, you impossible grump, I would go to my parents' former house, put a huge tree in the middle of the living room, color everything in Gryffindor colors and throw a pajama party for three persons: me, my eggnog and my loneliness!"
"So, praytell, what do you want, Hermione?"
"I want to create our own traditions, Severus, and fill the half-empty book of our lives with happy memories!" Hermione replied seriously, leaving Severus speechless.
For two days Severus grumbled and said venomous remarks as he considered his wife's words. He never celebrated any holidays, not even once in his life. He was constantly busy with potions, or academic research, or assignments from Minerva, or taking care of his Slytherins. It seemed, he didn't have any time to think about something as bright as Christmas. Although Severus remembered his mother's stories about the ancient rituals of celebrating Samhain, Beltane, Lammas, and other important elements of the so-called Wheel of the Year, he didn't want to remember his childhood. In any case, the memories of those days were too blurred. However, his wife's words continued to ring in his ears.
She wanted to create family traditions. He thought that he and Hermione hardly resembled a family. They had only stopped formally addressing each other three months prior and began to use their first names instead of too formal titles: "Miss Granger" and "Professor Snape." However, Severus still occasionally used his wife's maiden name when he wanted to annoy her.
Severus was not in the mood for a pointless quarrel, so after a while, he agreed to accompany Hermione for shopping, obediently acting as a carrier of her bags and a scarer of overly curious young Ravenclaws who now and then tried to flirt with his wife. Severus didn't know why those boys made him so angry, but when another up-and-coming youth Ravenclaw blanched at the sight of his former Potions' Professor and excused himself from the bookstore, Hermione laughed cheerfully and thanked him for his protection. Snape felt a bite of satisfaction.
She wanted a Christmas tree. Well, let her have the tree. He was even ready to endure the Gryffindor palette, which their living room would undoubtedly turn into. Loaded with packages, Severus grumpily agreed to meet Hermione at the appointed place in an hour and went to visit his fellow potioneer.
Diagon Alley was full of people as Christmas was fast approaching. Everyone was in a hurry to buy gifts so that they could spend more time with family or friends. Severus was alien to the jubilation of people and their enthusiasm for the holidays. He walked sullenly along the snow-covered cobblestones, balancing packages and bags until his legs led him to the window of a jewelry store.
There, behind the glass decorated with sparkling lamps, the future newlyweds smiled happily and the same unfortunate ones who fell under the Marriage Law frowned. Severus hastened to banish the memory of how he hastily selected rings here on the eve of his wedding day. However, something else caught his attention: pendants of various shapes and colors shimmered in the light of the Christmas lights. Among them was a holly pendant. Red berries and dark green leaves, the symbolism of Slytherin and Gryffindor colors, the fusion of two personalities and sacred dreams of a possible happy future.
Severus sighed, banishing his naive thoughts away. Without further ado he shoved the necessary amount of Galleons to the seller and put the pendant in his pocket.
In the evening, after he and Hermione spent several hours in the kitchen, trying not to burn the festive goose, not let the mulled wine boil away, and at the same time not quarrel to smithereens, it started to snow. Hermione immediately left her cooking and stared at the window, amazed by a magical winter fairy tale.
"Come here, Severus."
"It's just snow, Hermione." Snape huffed.
"Shh, be quiet. Look how beautiful it is!"
And so he watched. The snow glittered in the dim moonlight, shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow, reflecting the festive garlands. For a moment turned their everyday world into something wonderful and innocent, something from the long-forgotten childhood. Standing next to Hermione, Severus felt her move closer and finally decided to take her into his arms.
"I have a present for you," she whispered, nuzzling to his cheek. "Something that will allow you to stop keeping track of time and constantly control everything."
Taking a black wristwatch from her pocket, she handed it to him and smiled shyly. Severus felt embarrassed: no one had ever given him gifts, no one had ever prioritized him. Instead of answering, he handed his wife a pendant and was shocked when she squealed happily. Having examined the jewelry more carefully, she lifted her hair, offered her neck for him to fasten the chain.
"Holly symbolizes the continuity of life, and the colors red and green are so similar to us, aren't they, Severus?" Hermione sighed happily.
"I suppose so," Snape agreed reluctantly.
"So, we have exchanged the presents and we have our new tradition now," Hermione nodded determinedly and kissed Severus on the cheek.
The pendant and the wristwatch were lying on the mantelpiece, another Christmas was approaching, and Severus desperately wanted to turn back time and create as many traditions as possible with Hermione.