MISC

HEIR UNAPPARENT: CHAPTER 12 - A Hogwarts Holiday

November ran its wet and chilly course, then the monotonous rain transformed itself into fat December snowflakes which blanketed Hogwarts' castle and grounds in sparkling white. The students would race outside in their rare moments of free time to sled and tumble about in the snow. Ron took every opportunity to drag Hermione away from her books. Despite her slightly chapped lips, her mouth was warm; Ron could have stood outside kissing her for hours until their toes were frostbit. Inevitably, Fred or George would clap him in the head with a well-aimed snowball. With icy water trickling in his ear, he would curse and tackle the offending twin. Then Hermione would enter the fray and what started as a romantic encounter became an all-out snowball brawl.

Their course loads were beastly. Professor Flitwick insisted they learn the Acio charm for their O.W.L.s and had them scooting all sorts of objects about his classroom. The twins were learning about apparation and shared pointers with Ron and Harry (even though they had been strictly forbidden to do so by Professor McGonagall).

Christmas was fast approaching and the second weekend in December found the eager Hogwartians streaming into Hogsmeade. The town looked like a painting by Currier and Ives; its little thatched shops and cottages were covered with snow, wreaths of holly and ivy twined along the fences and the pine trees were aglow with tiny dots of light from magical candles.

Ginny and Hermione parted company with the boys, agreeing to meet them later that afternoon at the Three Broomsticks. Ron and Harry set off immediately for Honeydukes, where they stocked up on pepper imps, jelly slugs, fizzing whizbees and chocolate frogs. They ran into the twins at Zonkos, where they were in deep discussion with the owner, so they made their meandering way down the busy Hogsmeade thoroughfare. It was time to address the all-consuming topic: The Girls. Or, more specifically, The Gifts for The Girls.

They tried Gladrags Wizardwear (of London, Paris and Hogsmeade), but were non-plussed by the array of mysterious variables; there were too many colors, sizes, shapes and materials. They swiftly quit the store and stood outside, gasping for breath as if they'd just narrowly escaped a terrible foe.

"This is gonna be harder than I thought!" admitted Harry.

Suddenly, Ron gave a cry and pulled Harry across the street, where he pressed his nose against a frosted shop window. "Harry, this is it!"

Harry joined Ron at the window and whistled. "Whew! That's some rock!" he agreed.

"It's a sapphire, you git! It's her birthstone!"

Harry grinned. "Let's go in, then! Bet I'll find something for Cho here, too…"

As the boys were about to enter the shop, they ran smack into Professor Snape coming out of it. He was carrying a small but elaborately wrapped box, which he swiftly stuffed into his robe upon seeing them. His glare indicated that he was not pleased with the encounter. "A bit out of your element, aren't you, Potter?" he snarled.

"We'll see about that!" said Harry defiantly, dragging Ron after him.

"He's right, Harry," muttered Ron, glancing about him uneasily. "I've only got a few sickles left…"

Harry, a pocketful of galleons jangling in his robe, stopped in front of a case full of jewels. "Listen, Ron. I'll make you a deal. I'll give you whatever you need to buy that necklace, if you'll do all my Divinity homework for the rest of the year."

An evil grin spread across Ron's face. "Fair enough. I guarantee you'll have the most wretched predictions old Trelawney's ever salivated over!"

"Perfect!" said Harry and approached the rather prim witch behind the counter, who had been eyeing them dubiously. When she saw the ragged scar across Harry's forehead, her entire manner underwent a profound transformation. "Well, helloooo there," she crooned. "And what can I interest you fine young gentlemen in today?"

Harry pointed to the necklace in the window. "We need that, and something else. Maybe something with a butterfly?"

The witch smiled indulgently. "I have just the thing!" she said, putting a delicate amber butterfly suspended from a golden chain on the velvet cushion atop the counter. "How's this?"

"Wow! Perfect!" said Harry, pleased that his first foray into jewelry purchasing was proving to be quite painless.

"Ah, you lads have fine taste and decisive minds! It took me over an hour to find something suitable for the last gentleman."

As she wrapped their gifts, Ron and Harry exchanged looks of disbelief. "Suppose old Snape has a girlfriend?" whispered Harry.

"Ewwyuck!" grimaced Ron. "Who'd wanna get close to him?"

They put their purchases gingerly atop their bags of pepper imps and went to join their party at the Three Broomsticks. The girls had butterbeers waiting for them at a warm table in front of the roaring fireplace.

"Hiya!" grinned Ginny, her cheeks rosy from the wintry day. "How're the brave shoppers?"

Ron placed a wet kiss on Hermione's cheek and sang, "I've got your pre-e-e-e-sent!"

She giggled and wondered what it could be, but he wasn't telling.

Fred and George joined them, shaking their snowy robes out and eliciting cries of protest from the surrounding tables. "Whoops, sorry 'bout that," said George cheerfully.

"So what were you guys talking to Mr. Zonko about?" asked Ron.

The twins looked at them conspiratorially. "Can you keep a secret?" They were roundly reassured, so Fred continued. "We're negotiating with old Zonko, to go into business with him next year!"

"Cool!" exclaimed Ron and Harry.

"You bet," winked George. "It'll be bettern' Gambol and Japes!"

"But where will you get the money?" asked Ginny skeptically.

"Oh, we've got our sources," Fred grinned, casting a quick glance at Harry.

"I think it's a great idea!" smiled Hermione. "You guys are made for the wizarding gag business!"

They took this as the highest of compliments and everyone raised their butterbeers in a toast to Weasleys' Wizarding Wonders.

Despite the convivial atmosphere of the pub, Hermione felt an uneasy prickling along her spine, as if someone had dripped ice water down her back. But her back was to the fireplace and the twins' icy splatters had missed her by a mile. She glanced around the crowded room until her eyes came to rest on a hooded figure near the door. She could not make out his features, as his long cowl shrouded them, but she sensed his eyes. They seemed to narrow as she looked at him. She shivered and leaned in closer to Ron, who put his arm around her as Fred and George were demonstrating their latest Zonko's purchase, a set of fireworks that sent up rude remarks. "They'll be perfect at Quidditch games," they were saying. Hermione glanced back to the door but the man in the hood was gone.

Suddenly, she felt strangely dizzy and in need of fresh air. She had to go outside. She got up, mumbled something about being right back, and wrapping her cloak about her, stepped from the warm pub into the street. A chill wind was blowing the snow into whorls of icy crystals. She had to squint to keep it from getting in her eyes as she walked down a darkened alley. She was not conscious of why she was doing this; something deep inside her absolutely had to… Then she heard her name, as if carried on the snowy breeze. "Hermione Granger - come to me, Hermione…"

Her feet waded through the deepening snow. Ahead, in the dim light, she saw him - the cloaked man. Again, she heard her name, this time more insistent. "Hermione, come here…"

"Hermione!" A different voice now called her. She paused, hesitating in her path. Suddenly, the bright red head of Ron Weasley appeared behind her. "Hey, Hermione! Where are you going?"

She looked before her. Once again, the cloaked figure had vanished.

"He was calling me - he knew my name…"

Ron took her by her shoulders and turned her to face him. She had a strange, glassy expression in her eyes that he didn't like one bit. "Who called you? There's nobody here!"

Hermione shook her head as if trying to clear its interior fog. "I… I thought there was someone out here…"

Harry had joined them and looked down the alley. There were, indeed, tracks in the snow left by booted feet. "Nobody's here now, Hermione. We'd better get back - we'll miss dinner!"

Ron wrapped Hermione's cloak tighter about her and exchanged a look of concern over her head with Harry. Who could have been calling her, by name, out in a dark alley in Hogsmeade?

The next morning at breakfast, Albus Dumbledore stood to make an announcement. "I regret to inform you that trips to Hogsmeade have been prohibited until further notice."

The students met this with groans of displeasure; Harry and Ron looked at each other and then at Hermione, who was pushing her scrambled eggs listlessly about her plate. She didn't seem to have much of an appetite.

"As compensation, I'm pleased to say we'll be having a Yule Festival. Those of you who wish to remain here over the holidays are welcome." He cast his wise blue eyes over the upturned faces before him. "We expect those of you in your fifth year or beyond to attend." This met with approval by most of the students. The first and second years couldn't go to Hogwarts anyway, and the promise of a festival cheered the older students somewhat.

"What d'you make of that?" asked Ron as they returned upstairs to get warm cloaks in preparation for their upcoming snowball fight.

"Dunno," said Harry. "But I'm just as glad we're all staying for Christmas. Sirius' latest letter said they still haven't caught that killer yet. S'pose that's why Dumbledore wants to keep us here?"

"Maybe. How do you think he heard about Hermione?"

"We didn't tell him. Maybe Snape - he was in town…"

Ron did not like the prospect of Snape reporting their activities to the Headmaster, but he liked the thought of a killer on the loose even less. "We'd better remember what my mom said and keep an eye on them. The girls, I mean…"

The general hope that the teachers would lighten up with the holidays on their way was dashed as several instructors decided to give semester-end reviews. The week before the holiday, students were cramming as much information as they could into their heads and were seen in clusters throughout the common rooms and the library. Hermione decided, one chilly afternoon, to get some fresh air and visit the zoo. She hadn't seen her little Elena for over a week and was anxious to visit with Hagrid and his domovhika, Gretl, who had taken up residency in his cabin on Viktor's suggestion and was keeping everything neat as a pin. Even Fang seemed to like her company as she often gave him homemade biscuits and other freshly baked treats.

Hagrid was not in his cabin, so Hermione set about to deliver the goodies she'd taken from the lunch table. The bayard and baldium were very glad to see her and even happier with the crisp carrots she had brought for them. She was starting to scatter oats for the grants when she heard a rustling at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Hagrid?" she asked, expecting to see him tromping out with Fang pulling him along. But there was no response. She hesitated, feeling a strange need to investigate. She climbed over the fence and started to walk toward the forest. She could see nothing moving. The sun had started to slant behind the hills and the forest looked dark and as forbidding as its name implied, but she kept going. Was that her name she heard? Was someone calling to her from the forest? She had almost reached the part of the path where the trees converged above her head when she heard someone frantically calling her name.

"Oy, Hermione! Hold it! Where are you going?"

She heard the voice and recognized it as Harry's but so intent was she on walking deeper into the forest that she ignored it. Suddenly Harry was behind her, grabbing her arm and stopping her in her tracks. "Hermione! Where are you going? Look at me!"

Hermione's eyes blinked as if she was just emerging from a deep and troubled sleep. "Harry? Where am I?"

He pulled her into his arms. "Shh. It's okay. Hagrid's coming up with Fang. Let's go back."

Fang was pulling Hagrid along by his lead and whining, straining toward the forest. "'Ere, you git 'er back te the cabin!" shouted Hagrid. "Fang 'n I will jus' 'ave a look round." With that, the huge gamekeeper and his boarhound plunged into the thicket.

Harry helped the faltering Hermione back to Hagrid's cabin. Gretl bustled to make tea while Harry tucked a blanket around Hermione, then peered out the window for Hagrid. "Why were you going into the forest, Hermione? You know it's forbidden, for good reason!"

"I… I don't know…" she said in a bewildered voice that was muffled into the blanket. "Someone called me again, by my name… just like at Hogsmeade!" She shivered and Harry sat down next to her, putting his arm around her and hugging her to him.

"It's okay now, you're safe. It's a good thing I came out to look for you! None of us should be wandering around here alone, especially near the forest!"

Presently Hagrid and Fang returned. Harry did not like the look on his face. "What was it, Hagrid?"

He shook his head slowly. "Don' know, but the snow 'bout the edge's been tramped down. Someone was there, that's fer sure." He put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "There now, 'ave a cuppa, then I'm walkin' ye back te the castle. Yer not te be comin' out alone agin, understand?"

Hermione nodded, sniffing and taking a hot mug from Gretl, who whined with concern.

"S'okay, girl," Hagrid said, patting her head fondly. "No 'arm done. An' none comin', so long's Fang n' I keep watch."

There was doubt in the domovhika's wet brown eyes, but she set about the kitchen, busying herself with mugs and teacakes.

After Hagrid escorted Harry and Hermione back to their common room, where Ron promptly began to bellow at her for going out alone, he made his way to Albus Dumbledore's office. While exploring the forest with Fang, he had met the centaur Firenze, who maintained a watch on the perimeter of the woods. He had seen a dark figure trampling the forest with his dirty boots. It had definitely been a man; Firenze could tell by the smell. The centaur had looked up at the sky, then turned his troubled sapphire eyes to Hagrid. "I have read what is to come in the movement of the planets. Mars is bright in Virgo tonight, my friend," he had said. "There is someone here, at your school, who is in dire peril."

At last the tests were over and those students remaining at Hogwarts celebrated with great relief on Christmas Eve. After the feast, Neville was summoned to Dumbledore's office. Severus Snape was there when he arrived. Dumbledore patted Neville on his shoulder and said, "Ready for another trip to St. Mungos, son?"

Neville shook his head, uncertain if he was or not. Snape explained, "Neville, I need you to create a diversion. It will take some moments for the potion to work."

"A diversion, sir?"

"Yes, some sort of commotion that will get Madam Merci out of the room. Faint or cry or… you get the idea?"

Neville nodded, his heart in his throat. What potion? Had Snape really mean what he said, about his parents, so many weeks ago?

Arriving via floo powder, Neville fell flat on his face as he arrived in the parlor of St. Mungos. He dusted himself off as Snape appeared immediately behind him. The Longbottoms were again seated on either side of Madam Merci, who looked a bit pink in the cheeks. "Enjoying her eggnog, I suspect," muttered Snape as he advanced into the room.

"Hellooo, Professor! Neville, dearie! How lovely of you to come visit your parents - bring some much needed cheer, you will!"

Snape smiled grimly. "Indeed. And how are the Longbottoms this evening?"

Madam Merci sighed. "Ah, sir, I wish I had better news for you! They are very much the same…"

Snape coughed meaningfully and Neville took his cue. "Oh, mum!" he cried, flinging himself at her feet and sobbing loudly. He began to cough uncontrollably. Snape tutted and said to the nurse, "Perhaps it would be best to take him for some fresh air, and maybe a pumpkin fizzy?"

Madam Merci agreed. "Just the thing, I'm sure, sir! Come on, dearie, come with your Auntie Merci for some goodies!"

As soon as she had led the choking Neville out, Snape drew a vial of purple fluid from his robe. "I only hope this is enough, he prayed as he knelt before Roderick Longbottom. "Here, now, Roderick. Take a sip of this."

It was obvious to him, as he administered the potion to the bewildered Longbottoms, that they had spent many years taking medicine. They swallowed the potion, docile as lambs.

For a tense few minutes, Severus Snape waited, keeping his keen eye on the Longbottoms for any sign of change. At last, Roderick blinked as if awakening from a long sleep. Which, indeed, he was.

"Severus Snape?" he asked hoarsely. "What are you doing here?"

Snape had forgotten the last time they met he had been on the wrong side of the law, so to speak. Hastily, he took his hand and spoke in a low, urgent voice. "It's allright, Roderick. I have long ago quit the ways of my rash youth. I've come to take you and your wife far from here…"

"My… wife?" Longbottom looked beside him, to Amadahlia, who was also blinking in confusion. "Oh, my darling…"

Snape rose and gave the pair of brief moment of reunion and privacy before resuming his instructions. "You have both been enjoying the dubious care of Lucius Malfoy. I've given you something to restore you to health, for the moment, but we must leave here immediately."

"But where will we go?" asked Amadahlia, still groggy from the effects of Snape's antidote.

"We will travel directly to Hogwarts, where I will be able to facilitate your complete recovery. But first, we must retrieve your son."

"Our… son?" they asked in unison, still clinging to each other as drowning men clutch at bits of flotsam on a raging sea.

Just then, Neville burst into the room with a very tipsy Madam Merci in his wake. "MUM! DAD!" he cried, this time with a joy he had never known in his entire young life. He ran to them and they pulled him into their warm, tearful embrace. Even Severus Snape's eyes were moist as he beheld the long-hoped-for reunion.

Madam Merci broke his reverie as she asked in a confused voice, "What… what has happened?"

"Ah, my dear," replied Severus, drawing his wand and saying, "Obliviate!" in a gentle voice. At once, her eyes became misty and he spoke his instructions to her. "The Longbottoms have gone to visit their family in Shrewsbury, for a holiday. The papers have been signed, here they are." He pressed the forged documents into her hand. "Now, you will return to your staff party and be sure to give Lucius Malfoy a great big kiss under the mistletoe!"

Obedient and happy as a child, Madam Merci left the room. Severus turned to the Longbottoms. "I believe we should make haste. Albus Dumbledore is waiting for us. Neville, you first."

The shining face of the usually somber boy made Snape smile as he ushered the family through the fireplace. At last, he stepped through the emerald flames and left St. Mungos far behind.

Christmas morning found the beds of Harry and Ron piled high with presents. They were both relieved to find that Gretl had made Hagrid's traditional Christmas gift; the treacle fudge was divine, for a change.

"Where's Neville?" asked Dean sleepily as he fumbled for his slippers.

"Dunno," said Seamus. "I don't think he made it back last night after the feast. Last I saw, he was on his way to Dumbledore's. D'you think he's in trouble?"

"Nah, I bet his gran sent for him," said Ron, opening a package from his mum and grinning ear to ear. "Hey, look at this! It's a scarlet sweater! Not maroon!" He proudly displayed this to his roommates, who pointed out that it had a golden Griffindor lion on its front.

"You'll be captain of the team yet, Weasley!" said Seamus through a mouthful of treacle fudge.

Ron grinned at Harry, remembering the Mirror of Erised. "Yeah, you never know!"

Mrs. Weasley had also knitted for Harry a thick pullover in an argyle pattern of crimson and yellow, shot through with green. "For your eyes, I bet!" teased Ron. Mrs. Weasley was rather fond of Harry's unusual orbs.

Ron was delighted with his gifts, especially the one from Hermione. It was an autographed Quaffle, signed by all seven of the Chudley Cannons.

"Whew!" whistled Dean admiringly. "Bet that cost a pretty galleon! Someone must really like you, pal!"

Ron grinned in response, his ears turning a bright crimson to match his Griffindor lion sweater.

They passed the day happily, eating late meals and spending most of their time outside, where a fresh, heavy snow made for perfect snowball warfare. Neville still had not returned by the evening feast; Harry braved a visit to the head table and was roundly reassured by Dumbledore, who had a strange twinkle in his eye, that Neville was just fine. After the plates had been cleared, the tables whizzed themselves to the corners of the room and a carnival-like atmosphere descended upon the Great Hall. Magical piñatas swung from the ceiling and, when burst, released treasures from Honeydukes and, to Filch's great disgust, Zonkos. The caretaker made mental notes of the items he would be confiscating for his Highly Dangerous files.

The party was in full swing when Ron tugged at Hermione's hand. "C'mon, I want to get your present!" He led her back to the Griffindor common room.

Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape had also retired early.

"What, no mistletoe?" he asked as he entered the suite of rooms appointed to her.

She smiled. "No, but I have an excellent bottle of claret and a nice warm fire on the hearth."

Settled before her cheery fireplace, Snape pulled a small box from his robe.

"For me?" She carefully unwrapped the gift while he gently stroked the back of her neck. "Oh, Severus! Oh, my! It's beautiful!" she exclaimed with delight as she slipped on the ruby ring. "It's magnificent!"

"I am pleased you like it," he admitted. He had some doubts, having so little experience in such matters. The jeweler in Hogsmeade had assured him, of course, but it was nothing compared to the lady's opinion.

Said lady was overcome with surprise, which she communicated in her forthright manner. "I don't know how to thank you," she murmured.

"I have a suggestion," he whispered, pulling her into his arms and kissing her, despite the lack of mistletoe. The lady did not object, but responded so enthusiastically that Snape vowed never to doubt the Hogsmeade jeweler again.

Meanwhile, not far from McGonagall's Griffindor suite, another Christmas celebration was taking place. Hermione looked in astonishment at the elaborately wrapped box Ron handed her. "I really hope you like it…" he said, with a sheepish grin.

She unwrapped it almost reverently, fearing that Ron had spent far too much. She gasped as she lifted the velvet lid and saw the loveliest sapphire she'd ever seen. "It's gorgeous!" she murmured.

"So are you," he whispered as he took the necklace from her and placed the silver chain around her neck, kissing the spot where the clasp rested against her bare skin. Hermione felt a shiver along her spine. Ron's own hands trembled as he turned her to face him. His lips met hers and she sighed as they sank back into the sofa.

His lips traced a warm path along her jaw, down her throat. "Oh, Ron," she murmured, running slim fingers through his hair. His words came out in a husky whisper before they failed him utterly. She smiled, pulling his mouth back to hers. He shifted slightly, lifting her legs across his lap. His hands wandered across her shoulders, down her arms as his lips ran along her neck, pausing to kiss the gem nestled in the hollow of her throat before he moved to the triangle of skin at the opening of her robe. He raised his head, his blue eyes burning into her own, seeking permission. She nodded slightly and he unbuttoned her robe with a dexterity that surprised them both. His fingers lightly traced the outline of her breasts within her linen camisole. She softly moaned and he kissed her deeply in response, more boldly caressing her with eager hands. A small, rational voice in her head warned her not here, not yet, but her racing pulse drowned it entirely as she ran her hands along his back, encouraging his foray.

She would never now how far she would have allowed him to go, nor how much he would have attempted that night for, as he was about to lower his lips to her breast a boisterous row sounded outside the portal. In burst Fred and George, pulling Angelina and Alicia with them. Ron quickly sat up and Hermione hastily refastened her robe. The newcomers did not notice their disarray, as they all had apparently indulged in a bit too much eggnog before their midnight snowball fight. The four of them were soaked through and laughing heartily. Hermione and Ron looked at the revelers and then at each other with helpless shrugs.

"Whew! It is snowing out there!" exclaimed George, pulling Alicia onto his lap in front of the warm fireplace.

"A real blizzard!" agreed Fred, who had collapsed onto the hearthrug with Angelina, whose dark hair was flecked with snowflakes. "You two were smart, staying in here where it's warm!"

The merriment was curtailed by the appearance of Professor McGonagall, who looked a bit pink in the cheeks herself. "What's all this, then? It's nearly two in the morning! To bed - all of you!"

Ron and Hermione paused at the staircase to the dormitories. He seemed as reluctant to let her go as she was in going. He wanted to tell her those three little words as he had intended before his idiot brothers burst in on them when another interruption arrived in the form of his best friend. Harry, as rosy cheeked as McGonagall had been, sighed and informed them that Ravenclaw's house leader had just ousted him from said house.

Hermione laughed and started to head up the stairs, releasing Ron's hand only when she had ascended the third step. "The fates are conspiring against us tonight. Pleasant dreams, guys…"

"They'll be of you, all of 'em!" called Ron after her. Harry smiled to himself as he followed Ron up the stairs to their room.

Settled under their down comforters, Ron's voice broke the silence. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you and Cho have a nice time tonight?"

Harry closed his eyes, recalling Cho's warm lips and arms about his neck. "Yeah," he sighed. "We did. How 'bout you? Did you give Hermione her necklace?"

"Yeah, I did." Ron's voice was at once full of longing and satisfaction. "Thanks, Harry. For loaning me the money."

"Loan, hell! You owe me a semester's worth of Divination assignments!"

Ron chuckled. "Okay. For starters, I predict that you will fall deeply in love and there will be no hope. How's that?"

Harry laughed out loud. "Funny - you sure that's not your fortune?"

"Too late for me," sighed Ron. "I'm done for."

"Yup. I figured. 'Night, Ron."

"'Night, Harry."

To be continued, of course…

(Author's note: Only 3 chapters left! Bear with me, folks - I'll try to get 'em all up this week…And many, many sincere thanks for your support - you make my day!)