A/N: Thank you mizzadamz , Steffy4s3, worrywart, Ouatic-7, SeraphinaAngel, ToniOcean, Vinaplains, FrancineHibiscus, SnapeAddict74, Nigel Tegg and StormwingQueen for all your comments! Your strong reaction totally has blown me, I really hadn't thought that so many people were still following this. In order to say 'Thank you', I'm giving you the next chapter now (which means BEFORE it has been proof-read by my dear beta Dreamthrower). It might be interesting for you to see what it looks like in raw form, with all the mistakes and probably some funny expressions that might be a bit more German than English. :) I'll correct them as soon as Dreamthrower had a chance to look over it. Hope you like it anyway!

PS: Edited and corrected on .2020. Thank you, Dreamthrower! Much better now!

Light the Christmas Tree

After the gifts had been distributed, Kreacher brought out the plum pudding, accompanied by custard, brandy and a huge bowl of punch. They all had a laugh when it was Draco who found the silver sickle, promising him wealth when he already was the heir of a fortune.

"Just goes to prove that money goes to money," said Draco, shrugging, and got himself another glass of punch. "Next time, tell Kreacher to put other tokens into the pudding – a ring, for instance, so we'll know which of us is going to get married in the year to come."

"None of us is," said Luna earnestly, blowing into her cup to cool the steaming liquid. "I'm going to go on an expedition, Hermione and Draco are going to get their NEWTS and start their careers, Harry, sadly, won't be allowed to marry any man he falls in love with, Professor Lupin still considers himself a married man and Professor Snape is not ready to ponder marriage just yet. There was no sense in putting a ring into the pudding."

As usual, Luna's quiet and confident statement was met with a moment of silence, in which the mentioned people tried to figure out how – or if – to respond to that. Especially Severus, who marvelled at the girl's assumption that he would ever find himself in circumstances that would make him ponder marriage. It was pretty absurd. He was approaching forty, and there had never been a woman in his adult life. He was quite obviously not relationship material. Any notions a certain young witch entertained to the contrary were pretty ridiculous in the harsh light of day, which shone pretty much everywhere outside the dungeons.

Of course, his godson couldn't let it rest. "So, you think my godfather will consider marrying, given time?" Draco asked, smirking at Severus.

"Of course," Luna innocently answered. "He would want his kids to grow up in a loving family, wouldn't he? So why shouldn't he be married to his children's mother? It's the most normal thing to do, right, Professor Snape?"

"Well, I shall give the matter more thought if one of the many witches waiting in line should make it a matter of urgency," Severus responded drily, still hung up on the idea of having not only a wife, but 'children', in plural. He really must have lost his edge if suddenly everybody envisioned him as father of a family. It was probably that infernal Skeeter woman and the imbecilic pseudo-biography she had written about him. Utter crap, of course, but apparently, women all over Britain suddenly regarded him as tragic romantic hero because of it and felt he should be saved by love.

"Well, I, for my part, am happy that I don't have to worry about being married off anytime soon," said Draco. "If my parents were still around, I bet they would have started looking for a suitable pureblood wife a year ago, and I'd probably find myself settled with kids on the way already."

Hermione disapprovingly shook her head. "I never understood why marrying young is so fashionable among wizards. Harry's parents, Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, now Ron and Lavender – they all were barely out of school when they tied the knot. None of the girls ever had a profession."

"That's because wizarding society is still a very traditional one, in which it's up to the man to support a family, and a woman shouldn't have to contribute to the income," Remus said, his voice flat. His wife had been an Auror, and given that he had been unemployed most of his life due to his condition, she had not only contributed to, but basically provided the family's financial means.

"It's a waste of education," Severus put in, sounding adamant. "A lot of girls show much more talent while in Hogwarts than the boys do. Why do we take such pains to teach them if we plan to marry them off as soon as they have their NEWTs?"

"Not many witches choose to study the advanced theoretical subjects like Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, History of Magic on NEWT level," Remus called to mind. "They are content to learn how to brew the most basic healing and beautification potions, have rudimentary grasp of magical herbs and plants, and know enough about charms and transfiguration for everyday use. Hermione is not the usual example."

"Miss Granger is the exception to the rule in quite many regards," Severus said, managing somehow to make it sound condescending, even though he had meant it in every other possible interpretation. Exceptional. Outstanding. Dazzling. Over so the years, he had developed a pretty good understanding of people – or so he thought. She was the only one who continuously managed to throw him completely off track by behaving in an utterly unexpected and unsettling way.

She did so again only about an hour after he had made that comment about her, when she unceremoniously plonked down on the sofa next to him with two glasses of wine and a bottle in her hand. "Look what I found," she told him cheerfully. "I noticed you skipped the punch, but will you have a glass of wine with me?"

Severus raised his brow when she rather casually flopped down on the cushion beside him, with her legs drawn up and not caring about the hem of her dress riding rather high on her thigh. She had long since gotten rid of her killer heeled shoes so her feet were bare. But only now did he notice that she had painted her toe nails with a gold-bronze colour that matched her dress. Somehow, the sight caught his gaze. Her feet were rather delicate. But why shouldn't they be? She was a petite witch.

"No, definitely not," he declined, too distracted to realize that his words sounded rude. "I'm done drinking for tonight." He had never seen her wearing make-up or nail polish before. He couldn't quite decide if he liked it or not. It made her look different in a subtle way. It was a good thing, he decided, giving it some thought. She looked older tonight, less like the little girl he had known for years and which had only recently started to grow on him. Before him sat a woman he hadn't really met before, but wouldn't be averse to getting to know. Which was unsettling, too, considering that she still was his student. So maybe plaited braids and a school uniform were the better option. It definitely was the safer one.

Hermione, having noticed his gaze, changed her posture, tugging her one foot self-consciously beneath her thigh. "But you only had two or three glasses of wine during our lengthy dinner..." she pointed out, wondering if that little alcohol, accompanied by so much food, could have made him feel like he had overindulged. He sure seemed a bit off.

"I prefer not to drink when in company," he replied a bit stiffly.

"Oh." Hermione frowned, not quite understanding. "But isn't it supposed to be the other way round? I think it's solitary drinking that is generally frowned upon..."

"I didn't say that I was prone to solitary drinking, either," Severus clarified. "I generally don't drink much, especially not with other people around." He paused briefly, making it sound light. "Who knows what might happen?"

"Afraid you might start singing in front of an audience?" Hermione asked, a teasing note in her voice. She could see how this might be a realistic fear for him. He just shrugged non-committedly.

"Pity," she said. "I bet you have a beautiful singing voice." As deep and melodious as it was when he was speaking, Hermione could only imagine what it must sound like if he added rhythm and varying pitch to it. Though admittedly, the Potions Master singing was hard to picture.

Hermione passed him an amused smile, before her expression turned thoughtful again. "It's not just the singing, is it?" she asked, trying to imagine a drunk Severus. "People do the most undignified things when drunk... I giggle a lot and behave outright silly. I also talk a lot..."

His eyebrow rose again, as if finding her claim hard to believe. "More than you do when sober?"

She gave him a playful, castigating nudge with her foot, the one that wasn't hidden beneath her leg. Feeling less inhibited after the wine she had consumed, she let it rest on the sofa, right next to his thigh. "You're afraid to be caught laughing or jesting or having fun, admit it!" she said teasingly.

"Yes. There's that, too." And look how fast just a little bit of wine got you in trouble. If he was to show the same easy and comfortable familiarity as she did right now... who knew what would happen? It was important to keep one's wit. Especially for him, and especially around her.

"There's another reason still," Hermione realized, having gotten much better at reading the subtle signs in her professor's body language and facial expression. Yes, the taciturn man wouldn't want to be caught gay and jesting, ever. But there was more to it. She could read it in his slightly tightened jaw and the rigidity of his posture. It was something more fearful.

"Alcohol lowers not only your inhibitions, but also your caution and your rational sense," Severus declared. "Not at all advisable for someone whose life depends on guarding his secrets." He had needed to be firmly in control of himself and his thoughts at all times during the war, never knowing when he might be summoned. Occluding had demanded his full awareness and concentration, and the Dark Lord had often tested him to the limit.

"But the war is over now..." Hermione pointed out. "You're with friends and your life is not in danger if you let go..."

Severus shook his head. Maybe not his life. But people around him might be – there was no way to be sure. He had no idea how he would act under the influence of drugs, and he preferred not to risk it in order to find out. Alcohol stripped away all the layers of cultivation, the polish of manners, the civility that came with restraint. It left you raw and bare in a way even stripping naked wouldn't. In his experience, it brought out the worst in people. "Let's say my experience with drunks is not one that comprises singing, giggling or spurting nonsense."

She instantly sobered. "Your father?" She didn't need the confirmation. "I'm so sorry, I forgot." She now remembered the long talk they'd had during one of her lessons, about his mother and his childhood. His father had become an alcoholic after losing his job, and he had often turned violent when drunk, beating his wife and probably his kid. Without doubt, this had left Severus with scars and fears that would never go away. No wonder he preferred to stay mostly abstinent.

"It's a sad story, certainly nothing to dwell on," her friend and mentor allowed. "Just be happy that you have other associations."

"I do. My dad was a happy drunk, who just got all cuddly with my mom and would grin a lot." Hermione smiled fondly at the memory. "So are Harry and Ron. They are ridiculous when pissed. Like small kids, all giddy and giggly."

"Yes, so I noticed." Their gaze went to Harry and Draco, who were sitting on the floor in front of the other couch, whispering to each other and quite obviously having a lot of fun with whatever they were plotting or discussing. Clearly, they were far from sober at this point. Then Hermione's eyes wandered back to her mentor's carefully impassive face, which, as usual, hid his true emotions. It didn't require a lot of intuition to figure them out, though. "You're nothing like your father, if that's what you're worrying about," she stated firmly. "You'd never become violent when drunk, not against any person."

"And how, pray tell, do you come to that conclusion?" he asked irritably, an unmistakable challenge in his voice. She didn't know him. She had no idea what kind of man he truly was. She was far too young and inexperienced to understand. "Do you think me incapable of hurting people?" If she did, she was far more naive than he had given her credit for.

Hermione was not to be deterred. "No," she said frankly. "You do hurt people, quite often, in fact. But you do that by giving them a tongue lashing, by being sarcastic or by being cold towards them, not by becoming physically violent. Your desperate attempts to rein in the Carrows and save even the worst offenders from corporal punishment last year proved that. You abhor violence. You never raised your hand against a student, not even when you were furious. You were sickened by what Umbridge did to us in our fifth year."

He raised his brow in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Because we never brewed so many potions that required Murtlap as in that year, making it easy to nick a bit. And you stockpiled more than we ever needed in class. It was also you who had made us write an essay on the healing properties of Murtlap in the first place."

Severus looked at her in silent amazement. The girl was far too observant for her own good. If he kept her around, he'd have no secrets left – what a frightening thought! She'd have made an excellent spy. Except for the fact that she was unable to keep her own secrets, which would have cut her life as a spy rather short.

"Yes, you're right," he finally conceded. About the Murtlap, and also about his abhorrence of violence. "I do despise seeing people hurt and injured, and I've seen enough violence to last a lifetime." It was one of the first things that had turned him away from the Death Eaters. "But my father was never violent when sober. It's when his inhibitions fell and he lost control of himself that he became dangerous. Who knows if it's an inherited trait? I'd rather not find out."

"Forgive me for saying so, Sir, but that's utter rubbish," Hermione said, straightening her spine. Severus found it mildly amusing how she suddenly addressed him so formally again, especially while telling him off in such a rude manner. Maybe she wanted to be respectfully disrespectful. "In vino veritas," the girl continued, utterly sure of herself. "Lowered inhibitions can only bring forth what is there to begin with. A decent man, even if stripped of all inhibitions and control, is still a decent man."

She got up, presumably to get a refill, but leaned back down to say softly and close to his ear: "One day, I'd love to get drunk with you – just the two of us. And I solemnly swear that nobody will ever hear of it if you should start singing or reciting poems."

She didn't turn to see his expression when she walked away, but she could feel his eyes on her back. If she was entirely truthful, she enjoyed being able to stun him without even using a wand. There were not many people who could still surprise and confuse Severus Snape and she was pretty sure that he was rather shocked right now for her having painted such an audacious picture of the two of them.

A picture that she rather liked... Smiling into the punch bowl, Hermione realized that it was almost empty. Given that it was neither her, nor Severus, nor Remus who had drunk that much, it was definitely Harry and Draco who had finished most of it. Luna was still serenely sipping on the eggnog she had gotten herself quite a while ago.

The boys now lay sprawled on – or rather half off – the other sofa, doing pretty much everything Severus was afraid of: Giggling, spurting nonsense and acting all cuddly. Draco actually had Harry's head in his lap. It brought another fond smile to her face. It was great to see Harry like this. He had been a troubled adult for far too long, and it was high time for him to let go of all his worries and just have fun for a change. They all deserved that.

Hermione grabbed a piece of the Christmas cake and turned back to the sofa. She was just about to sit down when a noise and a movement caught her gaze. "What's with the tree?" Hermione wondered aloud, when the branches started to blur and move rather vigorously.

"Oh no," said Lupin, staring at it in shock, while Severus leaned back and broke into a really wicked sneer. "Oh yes!" he said, lifting his cup of tea in a congratulatory salute to both of his godsons, who were rather slow to react. "I'm impressed you held it up for so long."

"What are you..." ... on about, Hermione had wanted to ask, but that moment, chaos and mayhem broke loose. Loud screeching and wailing came from the Christmas tree, and then the three Holy Kings and the shepherds, the angel, Holy Mary and Joseph, even little Jesus transformed back into garden gnomes, no longer petrified and scowling, but fuming and raging. The flock of sheep turned into cockroaches again that scattered in all directions, which made Draco give startled cry and made Harry spit out a sip of his drink. A visibly enraged, hairy-legged ex-angel climbed down the ex-Christmas tree, which had turned into a dead acorn once again.

Furious and thirsting for vengeance, the gnomes launched a vicious attack on the remaining decorations, which looked rather displaced on the few, bare branches anyway.

"What the heck..." said Draco, dumbfounded.

"Don't look so surprised." Severus was watching with amusement how the howling gnomes wrecked the manger, crashed the remaining glass baubles and shredded the tinsel. He only lazily raised his wand to extinguish the flames when the floating candles, one after the other, fell to the ground, setting the rubble on fire. "Have you forgotten everything Flitwick ever taught you about Charms? They only hold as long as the wizard is conscious and clear-minded enough to keep up the magic flow that feeds them. That's why spells fail when their caster dies, is rendered unconscious or – in your case – is dead drunk. It's also why long-lasting spellwork requires either multiple wizards working together or an external magical anchor."

"I remember now..." mumbled Harry faintly, watching in horror as the gnomes, having finished dismantling the Christmas tree and the manger, stomped towards the door, snarling and hissing with raised fists, bared teeth and red faces and smashing everything that stood in their path.

"Well, that was some entertainment!" said Remus, rising. "I'd better go and let these fellows out, before they destroy the kitchen on their way to the back door... I'll head to bed after that. I guess I'm a tiny bit drunk myself."

Harry nodded, looking a bit confused, and struggled to get up. "I should clean this up..." As he was having difficulties rising, Hermione quickly took the wand from his hand. "I don't think you should perform any more magic tonight, Harry. You're hammered. Let's get you to bed." She moved to stand beside him and put his arm around her shoulder, stabilizing him. Luna quickly followed her lead and took his other arm.

"Severus – can you make sure that Draco is safely put to bed, too? I wouldn't trust him with the stairs..."

"Right," he said, raising his wand at Draco and casting a Levitation charm on him, which had him hanging in the air, helpless and a bit undignified. "Hey..." the boy protested, his voice a bit slurred. "Le'me down thisistant! I can balk why myself!"

"Sure you can," said Severus ironically. "But this is more fun. Now I suggest you keep your mouth shut, in case you're overcome by motion sickness as well. There's enough to clean without you adding to the mess."

Having it easier with his still fussing charge floating ahead of him at the tip of his wand, he passed Luna, Hermione and Harry before they made it to the stairs and disappeared into Draco's room long before the three of them had reached the second landing. Neither Hermione nor Luna felt sober enough to risk levitating their friend with magic, not after what they had just witnessed.

Once safely in Harry's room, Hermione and Luna dumped their friend onto his bed, divested him of his shoes and jeans and pulled the blanket over him. He was sound asleep before they had closed the door behind them.

"Well, that was a fun evening!" Luna said, smiling at Hermione. "I'm really happy that Harry invited me. Sleep well, Hermione. And remember the silencing charm if you decide to take the potion. Just in case..."

The potion! She had almost forgotten about it. But yes, that was a great idea. Nobody would tear her out of sleep the next morning – Harry and Severus had planned to leave for Godric's Hollow early and Draco surely wouldn't be up before noon. He always liked to sleep in.

"You're sure it won't mix badly with the alcohol I had?"

"If you were close to passing out like Draco just now, you might miss out on the full experience. But you still seem pretty sober. It won't matter."

Hermione smiled. "Then I'll go and get it. Good-night, Luna!"

"Same to you!"

A/N: I'm very sure you'll all like the next chapter, Oh-ho, the Mistletoe! After all, I still owe you a kiss! :)