"This one? Or maybe this..." Severus looked to his furry companion. "Which do you think she'll like more?"
Crookshanks looked intently at the magazine and the two pictures indicated. He pawed at the page until it started to curl over on itself.
"Neither one then? You're harder to please than she is. I'm glad I don't have to shop for you." Severus made a thoughtful sound and flipped a few pages in the catalog. "More tasteful, you think? There's something to be said for trashy, you realize. Or, being a cat, perhaps you don't."
He flipped past a few more pages of glamorous women in their underwear and sometimes less, until one picture made something in him sit up and take a whole lot of notice. "You can pick the classy underwear, and I'll get her this," he said, his eyes glittering. "Take heart in knowing she'll kill me when she sees this."
Crookshanks stood, purring loudly, and butted his head against Severus' hand. "Yes, I thought you'd be entertained by that." The fingers of his other hand not occupied by the cat were caressing the picture. "And I'll be entertained by this..."
He shut the catalog abruptly. "I think I need to get out more."
"...my hair. It's gone, right?"
"Yes, it's all gone. I don't know what you're so concerned about; it was just mistletoe."
"Just mistletoe? Tell that to Philip. No less than ten times did he try to kiss me?"
"And who is this Philip? Someone I need to introduce to a few of the more creative hexes?"
Hermione looked to the top of the stairs and smiled as she removed her heavy winter cloak. "Nobody you need to turn your great and terrible powers on, Severus. Just a prank at work today. You remember Susan--"
"Bones. Hufflepuff. Very adequate in class. Yes, I remember."
To Hermione's trained eye, everything about him changed. His posture was more rigid, his steps lighter, his gaze suddenly sharpened, and his voice dropped in volume. The old professor mode. She looked to Susan, the look on her face, and couldn't help but laugh. "Stop it. We're not in school now. No one will be removing points or giving detentions." She took Susan's cloak as well and shook her head. "Don't mind him. He's just pretending to be a rotten bastard."
Susan smiled weakly, glancing furtively at her old teacher as he came down the stairs. "Uh... hi... Professor."
"I no longer teach," he answered stiffly, still looking down on them from the middle of the staircase.
"Lucky kids," Hermione said lightly. "Something to take the chill off? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, something stronger?" she asked, and with Susan's elbow in her grasp, headed for the kitchen.
"Sure."
Shaking his head, Severus had to wonder if there was anybody outside himself at the Ministry that took the work seriously. Most likely, this impromptu get-together had to do with the annual Christmas party. An event he never attended because he considered it a frivolous waste of time, energy, and money. And considering he didn't plan on attending it this year either, it was wise to keep out of the way, lest he be dragged into it all. Silently he retreated upstairs to continue picking out gifts.
Two big mugs of hot chocolate were down on the table before he had even finished climbing the stairs. "Anyone can make hot chocolate," Hermione began, sitting across from Susan, "but only from a Potions Master can you learn to make the best damned cup in under fifteen seconds. He comes in right handy, I tell you."
Again Susan smiled weakly before sipping from her mug. "It's just... Don't take it wrong, but--"
"I know. It's weird or creepy or gross, or all three. It's a really long story, and I don't know if the Ministry has declassified it yet, but at the very beginning, neither of us were too happy about it." She set down the mug and leaned slightly over the table. "I know what people thought of me in school, don't worry about it, so I can say it freely that... well, he pushes all my buttons. Intellectual, and the standard ones."
Susan had the good grace to blush at this. "I can see how that would interest you. It just is strange, that's all. He wasn't very nice."
That brought Hermione to laughter. "He's still not! Perfectly polite though, so don't worry about it. Besides, we have a party to plan, and he won't want to be within a sea dragon's length of it, so... And I need to get Philip back."
Upstairs, Crookshanks was sitting in front of the catalog, open once again, and looking very intently at a page. When Severus entered the room, the cat meowed loudly and planted his paw squarely on top of a picture.
"Your contribution to Hermione's collection of tasteful lingerie? Is she actually aware that a cat picks out a sizable percentage of her wardrobe?"
Crookshanks just looked at him, golden eyes half-lidded, expectant.
Severus rolled his eyes. "Blue or pink? I'm partial to the blue myself."
A loud meow in the affirmative, and Crookshanks butted his hand.
"We agree then. Demi or deep plunge?"
Crookshanks pawed at the small inset picture.
"No, she doesn't seem the 'scrunch my assets up into a big pillowy mass under my robe to excite lonely wizards' type. Pity. And I'll get the matching--" Severus swatted the cat's paw away. "No, I won't get her that. Your mistresses buttocks will remain covered." He lowered his voice and bent his head nearer to the cat. "Now comes the most important part."
He hid away the current catalog and pulled out a different one.
Some time later, closer to midnight than either woman had realized, they were ending their planning session.
"You'll have to show me the secret of that instant hot chocolate some time, Hermione." Susan slipped the cloak over her shoulders and fastened it. "The party will be great... and Philip won't know what hit him." She laughed along with Hermione at that, and they bid one another a final farewell.
"Finalized Voldemort's downfall already?"
"I could ask the same," Hermione said, not allowing anything to dampen her good mood. "You were awfully quiet up there all that time."
"Should I have been breaking things to assure you of my innocence?" He folded his arms; with him at the top of the stairs, Hermione could almost remember what it was like to be in his class her first year at Hogwarts. Apparently a skill he hadn't lost, he managed to look as impressive as she remembered him from the earliest days of their uncommon relationship.
The door opened under the touch of her fingertips, and she swept in. The door behind her closed silently, and for a glorious minute, Hermione basked in the familiarity of the house.
"You've returned."
Her head tilted slowly, her eyes taking in the stairs, and then his bare feet at the top. Bare feet, exposed shins, same shimmery grey robe tied firmly about his waist, arms folded across his chest, hair lank and slightly tangled, and his expression... Tight, worried, curious, relieved. "I have."
Even in that robe, she could sense the command his presence demanded.
"What did you learn?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "You should be in bed. And you should have slept, though I know you didn't." It was harder than she would have thought to force herself up the stairs where he was waiting. She made it though, refusing to let any weakness show. "To bed with you."
His arm was unresisting as she took it, and led him to the bedroom.
"You're not usually so cooperative," she murmured as she settled him in the bed.
"After the last few days, I don't dare be anything else."
"Yes, well, I think you needed it." She fussed with the comforter over him, then started to stand, but his hand grabbed her firmly around the upper arm. "Wha--"
"Hermione..." Severus' hand brushed the hood from her face, revealing shadows beneath her eyes, the wild state of her hair, and the definite haunted look on her face. "Sit, Hermione."
"I can't. I have to..." She pulled away, but his fingers locked on the fabric of the cloak, and it was swept from her shoulders.
Everything crashed down at that moment. Hermione sagged like her bones were made of rotten wood, and she collapsed on the bed. A thin wail of anguish filled the room and Hermione's sad frame began to shake. "What did I do?"
After just getting comfortably ensconced in bed, Severus threw back the covers and got out. Leaving Hermione on the bed, sobbing, he hobbled over to the workroom and gathered an armload of potions. The next day, all of his Veritaserum was getting dumped out; there would be no repeat incidence.
"I-I think I'm going to be sick." Hermione made a retching sound, but nothing came of the effort. She moaned inarticulately as Severus returned to his spot in the bed. "You must hate me. I hate me. I saw them..."
"Hermione, come here." Taking hold of her arm again, Severus pulled her up gently until she was laid out next to him. Her eyes were red and raw, bloodshot. It didn't help that she looked terrible outside of that. "Drink this. It will help."
"Is it poison?"
"No."
"Then it won't help." She put her arms over her face. "Don't look at me. Just tell me to leave and I will. I don't deserve any help."
"Drink this. It will help."
Hermione moved her arms and glared at him weakly. "Did you not ju--" She swallowed quickly as a bottle was placed at her lips and emptied. And immediately she felt very far away, very loose, very pliable, and not very coherent. She groaned again, her entire body going limp.
"Good, how do you feel?"
As far away as she felt, Severus sounded so very close, inside her head even. It was an effort to even wiggle her fingers, let alone lift her hand to touch him. "I..." Eyes rolling, trying to focus on anything and failing miserably, Hermione closed them.
"Time for a nap, I think. Relax. Feels like a cloud, doesn't it? Floating on a cloud."
"Mm." Floating... So nice, better than being filled with all that surging power, trying to keep it under control. So nice, in fact, she never even really understood what was going on as he Severus started to undress her.
He stayed up late that night, reading. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but Hermione would have liked to actually sleep with him once in a while. Well, fall asleep and wake up with him; she was fairly certain he slept at some point there, but the evidence was extremely vague.
For about an hour, Hermione slept, but at one in the morning, she woke alone. Feeling out of sorts, she draped her robe over her shoulders and headed to the library. "Sev'rus?"
"I thought you were asleep."
"I was." She half-stifled a yawn. "You should be too."
"I'm fine. You go back to sleep."
"Not without you. I..." She retied the belt of her robe, not looking at him. "Please." She could feel his eyes on her, picking her apart to her core.
He stood and a small breath of relief escaped. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Do you want a dreamless sleep potion?" he asked as he put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her back to the bedroom.
His nearness staved off the shivers that had started to take hold. "No, I'm fine. I just..." Her hand sought his and squeezed it.
"Nightmares?"
"Not really. Not like normal nightmares." Hermione shook her head, trying to get rid of the anxious feeling in her chest, worse in some ways than an honest, screaming, shivering nightmare. "It was just... after. Not a nightmare; just unpleasant." It stayed with her, that experience, and though it didn't cause her any trouble in her waking hours, at night...
Hermione leaned against him and tried to will away the remnants of her dream. She wouldn't let go of his arm until he was in place next to her in the bed, and then she curled up against him, staring into the darkness.
The tips of his fingers brushed through her hair, a touch softer than a breeze.
He didn't speak, though Hermione felt him take breath enough to begin more than once. There was little he could say though, nothing he hadn't already, and it had only been a nightmare this time. Just those phantom memories that bothered her when her mind was most vulnerable, the only time it could wield its influence. With his warmth, she would be sleep easier this night. When his arm settled firmly around her shoulders, Hermione sighed, relaxed, and let sleep come to her.
Hermione's eyes were wide, unseeing, as she sat in the hot, foamy water. Physically she felt much refreshed, however sore, but the jumbled memories of the past four days were sitting very firmly in the front of her thoughts.
"What did you see, Hermione? Tell me now so you won't have to repeat it for the Ministry."
Something about the quality of his voice made her shiver, but it was not with pleasure. It was oily, dark, unpleasant, like that dank room at the Malfoy estate. His hands were warm though, and the pressure he exerted on her shoulders and upper back welcome. Thumbs ranged briefly up her neck, fingers gently caressing her throat. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't even manage a squeak, let alone coherent sentences.
"I don't want to push you, Hermione, but it's something you have to do." Sliding down her arms, beneath the sudsy surface, his hands moved smoothly, purposefully. "There's very little chance that I haven't seen it, so don't be afraid or embarrassed to tell me."
Still Hermione could not speak of it. Her mind was willing enough, or so it seemed, but there was a block in her throat that simply would not allow it. Those words, to describe the events of the night, would not be allowed loose. "I... can't," she whispered, and leaned back against him. Wet friction, damp heat, almost uncomfortable where the smooth layers of their skin met, except where his arms wound their way around her.
When he spoke again, it was in her ear, softly, a sigh almost, that made her gently bite her lower lip. "You will have the strength to. You must." His hold tightened very briefly. "Remember the duty you gave yourself to."
Hermione bit down harder on her lip, and the pain brought tears to her eyes with surprising ease. She shook her head. "I didn't want that," she whispered, and closed her eyelids. There was silence outside his breath moving across her ear, and then the muted light on the other side of her eyes dimmed. For a moment she hoped she had passed out.
"You can only hide from it for so long."
No, she hadn't passed out. Opening her eyes revealed that he had simply reduced the lights to a few flickering candles, giving the bath a much more intimate feeling than before. Without thinking, she tried to retreat further back into him and did not speak.
"Will I have to use Veritaserum?"
"The..." Were these words really coming from her mouth? "The Imperius." She felt him jerk against her. Apparently she really had said it. It was so much easier that way, to feel that, as soon as he ordered her to tell him everything, the world was a wonderful place as long as she did what he wanted. Wonderful even through the pain of reliving it all.
"I will not. A pensieve, Veritaserum, but I will not use the Imperius curse on you. I will not make it so simple for you; this is a thing you must face."
His hands moved very surely over her skin, and Hermione concentrated on the pleasant sensations in them rather than his words. Those were biting and hostile, and his hands were so gentle and loving. Hermione choked back a sudden sob. "I can't," she repeated, feeling as if those were the only two words in her vocabulary.
"You can."
"I don't want to." That was different, but no less frustrating. "Don't make me."
He sighed, and his breath across her damp skin made her shiver. "I don't want to, and if you volunteer the information I won't have to. However..." One finger trailed from the crook of her elbow, up her arm, and down her side, to the point where her legs folded. "I will if I have to." His lips caressed the soft skin behind her ear briefly, and he started speaking again. "You saw them, saw the Death Eaters?"
Hermione nodded, feeling her stomach boil with threatening violence.
"They stayed at Malfoy's?"
It would have been better if they had not. She wouldn't have been able to follow them then. The barest of nods.
"The dungeons. You used the cloak to get inside. Muggles, Muggle-borns... Tortured the ones that screamed the loudest, killed the ones that wouldn't scream at all, and--"
"No." It came out with strength Hermione hadn't known possible that night. His hands stopped their soothing touches. "No, they didn't do any of that." And that did it. Those simple words opened the gates to allow the rest of it to rush out in a painful, breathless rush. "They weren't doing that. I think they were... interrogating them. There weren't any Muggles, and they were all in those masks."
His hands started again, this time stronger and more coaxing somehow. Continue, they said.
"They asked things about the Ministry. Tortured them. There were three of them; two men and a woman. I didn't recognize any of them; I don't know where they came from. They asked about..." Hermione swallowed past the sickening lump in her throat as tears stung her eyes. "They died because..."
"They wanted to know about Potter, of course."
She nodded.
"And you."
Hermione could only hang her head, and tears ran freely over her cheeks.
His hands stopped, and his arms went around her. She stayed that way for a long time, held tightly against him and waited.
"I couldn't do anything," she said simply, closing her eyes once more. "I watched them torture those people... They weren't even aurors. They couldn't really defend themselves. I think if they had... had... If they had enjoyed it, been more evil, it would have been easier."
"Easier to hate them rather than be sickened by them. Hate them for being evil, not be confused at how they could so easily just throw away another human being? A waste of life. That's what it is, isn't it?"
"Yes." Her voice was small, like a child's. "It was just so horrible."
"Of course, but... what really was it, Hermione? What did this to you? You don't fool me."
Hermione took a deep breath. No, she couldn't fool him because he knew. It was what put her there in the first place. "I don't know how," she began quietly, "but they found out someone was there. They knew I was there." She felt his intake of breath, heard the almost silent mutterings. "I made it outside at least. If I hadn't, I doubt I would have made it back here at all. I don't know how many there were... Everything looked the same, so dark, and I... I..."
"You panicked."
"Yes." Stupid, worthless, failure at the one thing she had been so sure she could do. Hermione hung her head and just wanted to sink beneath the water, but his arms kept her from moving.
A heavy sigh, and his arms swallowed her for a brief and pleasing moment. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You were unprepared for it. The important thing is that you are here now. You escaped. Did they find out who you were, or just...?"
"I don't think so." A shudder rippled through her. "No, they couldn't have, because if they did, then I don't think I would have gotten away so... cleanly." Clean. Her escape had been anything but.
One arm released her and plucked the cloth from the edge of the bath. He drew it back, dragging it across her arm to her shoulder. It made slow circles there as he spoke. "So tell me what else it is that concerns you. Is it the fact that they could have caught you? What they might have done if they had?"
Hermione shook her head slowly. Those thoughts were horrible enough in their own right, but also unreal, and her mind refused to wrap around the possibility of those horrors. "No. I... I used..."
"I see."
The cloth moved from her shoulder to the back of her neck. The heat worked its way into her frayed nerves, relaxing them one at a time. "I belong in Azkaban for it. I used them. I used it. I used it when I didn't have to. Stupefy or even Expelliarmus would have worked the same. I didn't have to..." She began to worry at her lower lip once again, where it was already damaged, adding to the pain there.
"Hermione, you must understand, the cloak has endured years of learning, if you will, the Dark Arts. I know it; I've had to deal with it, the urges and false instincts it gives out." He lowered his mouth to her bare shoulder and kissed her there.
She felt him smile against her skin. "I... I treated you horribly."
"Don't tell me that's more horrifying than unleashing an Unforgivable?" he asked, and his voice held tones of light amusement and self-mocking.
"It is because I would never do anything like that. I was awful to you, and I made a complete fool of myself. And you were completely right: I could have died, or worse, because I wouldn't listen to you."
"Oh Hermione," he said and kissed up her neck, his hand with the cloth ranging to her upper chest and lower, beneath the water. "Don't you think I knew what was happening? If I had been whole, had my wand, it wouldn't have been any effort at all to deal with your behavior. Don't feel bad for what you've done."
"Little comfort there. Too late not to. If I had just listened, then..."
"Hermione, what did they do to you? Tell me the entire story."
"There were... so many of them. I couldn't possibly escape without taking... some damage." His hand had stopped, and she wasn't sure she could go on without his relaxing rhythm.
"What sort of damage?"
Dark and dangerous, promising pain. Hermione took hold of his hand under the water and squeezed it more for her own reassurance than anything. "Nothing too awful. I think."
"I will tell Albus then. He will--"
"No, I'm not going to be poked and prodded when I feel fine." If only she could hold herself with the same confidence she managed in her voice.
"What did you get hit by?"
"I'm not sure. I didn't much..." Hermione swallowed back a sob. "It was luck. I made it to the trees before I was hit. When I fell, the cloak... Sheer dumb luck."
He didn't say anything, but she could feel the thoughtful noise he made through her back. "You will continue this foolishness? Not leave well enough alone now that you know?"
Hermione shrugged, and inhaled sharply when the cloth passed over one breast.
"A question for another day perhaps. But I can see that your efforts yielded little, and I believe I can shield you from the Ministry. This is your time to rest now, Hermione." He smoothed her hair, tucking wild strands away behind her ears. "Rest. I'll take care of you... better than you took care of me."
"Thank you."
"So close..."
"What are you muttering about this morning? Not more nightmares."
Hermione shook her head as she rifled through the drawers. "I'm just looking for some clean socks."
"And you're that close to finding a pair? Are you sure you got enough sleep last night?"
"Quite sure." She glanced back at the bed to see Severus still firmly entrenched in the blankets. "Don't you have something to do today besides throw your shiftlessness in my face?"
Eyebrows rose. "Shiftlessness? I must not have been paying attention; I thought I had another week before--"
"Very funny." She softened and graced him with a small smile. "I'm fine, really. But I do need some socks. I suppose I could always--"
"Don't even think about taking mine."
"I need--"
"To stop and take a moment to think. Clean socks? Really, Miss Granger. That should be a simple task for a know-it-all like you."
Hermione flushed and managed a face worthy of a charging bull. She would not let him get to her this close to Christmas. "Ha. Ha."
Severus rose from the bed in one smooth motion, and stood behind her. "Need my assistance again?" He tsked and shook his head. "You're slipping, my dear."
"I'm distracted," Hermione ground out, stopping herself from turning and punching him with great effort.
"It's like this." Reaching into her robes, Severus took out Hermione's wand and pressed it into her hand. "Hold it loosely, fingers like so for maximum control."
She almost broke, almost laughed as he arranged her fingers precisely on the smooth, worn wood. "Maximum control? What if I do this?" She made her hand into a sudden fist, turning her knuckles white with the pressure.
He winced. "No, never handle a wand like that. You must be delicate, but sure." After rearranging her fingers once again, he put his hand over her own. "Your movements must be precise and controlled for..." Severus leaned forward so his breath was loud in her ear. "Greatest potency."
Hermione's mouth went completely dry and her stomach knotted up into a tight ball. "Stop that!" she said, and pulled away. "I can't go to work like this." Cheeks and ears pink, she faced Severus' knowing, even rakish, grin. "Shiftless."
"Of course, Miss Granger, I would be more than happy to assist you with your wand technique later. Shall we say six this evening?" He turned and resumed his place in the bed. "You're dismissed now."
"Thank you, your grace." Even as she left the room, she was smiling.
Severus sat in bed and watched her go. Close. What was she close to that she hadn't mentioned to him? Most likely not related to her work; she was never close with any of that. She either had it or she didn't. This was something else, but what he couldn't be sure. He hadn't once picked up that she was concealing anything from him... Perhaps it just had something to do with upcoming Christmas holiday.
Not likely, but for the moment, he'd let it go at that. Only a few days now, and his plans were almost complete. One more present, and he'd be set. He might even, if Hermione asked in a sufficiently slavish manner--scowling and with clenched teeth the entire time--go to the party with her.
Achingly close, and with the party preparations, Hermione found it difficult to concentrate on what she truly wanted to. It was entertaining enough planning it with Susan, decorating with the others, but she really did have something much less frivolous to do. It wasn't much of a gift for Severus, but she just knew he'd be surprised. In fact, she so desperately wanted to see his eyes pop out when he saw it, she devoted that much more effort to it.
"Hermione? What about the main hall?"
Her attention was dragged back to the chore at hand. "The lights and trees only. Don't want to overdo it there. Thanks, Jerome." Had it really been her idea to decorate the entire Ministry building? Sheer lunacy, as Severus had informed her.
But this was the last chance to decorate, and then the party, which would include slightly under 500 guests filling the whole of the building. After that, a wonderful Christmas vacation awaited her. Already she had sent off the gifts for her parents, and would be owling out gifts for her other friends later that day.
Christmas was getting more difficult, and especially now that her parents were very aware of her living arrangements. She was now "attached" and that meant she was supposed to get married, and after that the devotion to "family" which really meant she was supposed to have children. Hermione decided that she just didn't really want to deal with them, though the guilt that her decision was based partly on her parents desire for grandchildren niggled her.
There was also the guilt that she had years to wait if she wished to. Her lifespan would no doubt exceed that of her parents, and it was quite possible that they would be... gone when she reached a point she was comfortable with the concept of children. Of course, there was always Severus, who was never comfortable with anything under the age of 21. Again, though, who was to say if they'd really be together for that long?
She was still young, quite young for a witch. If something happened and they went their separate ways... Such morbid thoughts for Christmas. Not wanting to dwell on it longer, Hermione turned her full concentration to hanging the mounds of live garland, lights, ornaments, and other Christmas garb.
Hermione felt like she had slept a week. Her eyes were caked shut with sleep, and it was painful to open them. Her mouth was filled with cotton, and her hip ached where she had slept on her side for too long. Any real movement was too much effort, and she fell back into a troubled sleep.
"She didn't want your help any more than I did."
Albus looked as close to grave as he ever did. "Her injuries are serious, but not life-threatening. The damage has been done and healed, though clumsily. This might... have future ramifications."
The cloak had done something. He should have known. "Do you know what hit her? And what's wrong now?" All his fault...
Albus' glasses glinted in the low light, making his blue eyes unreadable. "I don't know exactly. Curses damaging enough to most likely cause extreme pain and probably slow death from internal injuries."
Internal injuries... Future ramifications... "How?"
"Damage that has been caused, then healed, but without precision. Too quickly, even for magical healing. One of her kidneys is operating at a much depleted efficiency, there is some disturbing scarring around her left lung, though it seems healthy enough, and..." Now the old man looked totally discomfited. He fiddled with his beard, smoothing it out.
"What? This is my fault; I have a right to know."
"I blame myself for this as well, Severus. I shouldn't have--"
"Tell me, Albus. She was my responsibility."
"Scarring around her, ah, reproductive organs." And he would say no more.
Future ramifications. So that was it. "I see." Staring at Dumbledore accomplished nothing more. "I thank your for your help once again. I will tell her."
"You're most welcome, Severus. Remember, you're not alone here. If you ever want anything, don't be too shy to ask."
"Yes, yes, thank you."
Merlin, this was awful.
It was two more days before Hermione woke fully and pulled herself from bed. When he told her about the future ramifications from her task, she stared at Severus blank-faced.
"I have what?"
"Scarring. It's possible you'll never be able to have children." He was similarly blank-faced, but for different reasons.
"Oh." Hermione shrugged. "I think I'm going back to bed."
"Please say you'll go to the party with me."
Severus had been ready to ask her to beg for it, but the tired tone and posture told him she was not up for it. "Yes, I'll go." Before he could make the gesture, she had wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just tired; I shouldn't have volunteered for the party. I didn't get any work done today, probably won't get any done tomorrow... I'm so very glad there's vacation coming up. I don't think I could go another week like this." Up and down her back, his hands moved in a calming rhythm. "Christmas is supposed to be a happy time..."
"Only if you allow it to be. You're working yourself to exhaustion. Take time to enjoy it."
Hermione sighed. "I wish I could. I'm really looking forward to this evening though. Once that's done..." Vacation. Like bread for a starving man. She looked up at him. "Why haven't you been to work for the past two days? Usually you're gone before I am and back later."
"My own vacation. I'm allowed one once in a very long while." He shrugged, the tiniest of smiles tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Time for bed, isn't it? You have to be awake early."
"Don't remind me."
That night, Hermione got an excellent night's sleep, keeping a firm hold of Severus until her alarm roused her in the morning. Though refreshed, she knew the day would be one she'd rather skip if possible.
The sheer number of people that would be attending the Ministry party was catching up to her. To actually have to greet that many people, she thought she'd rather French kiss a Bubotuber plant, but it was too late to go back on the event.
"You will be there tonight, won't you?" she asked, unable to keep the trepidation from her voice.
"Of course. It would be horribly neglectful of me to leave you in such an enviable situation."
Hermione couldn't hold back the grin. "We can be miserable together." She leaned up, her hands resting flat against his chest, and kissed him on the underside of his chin. "Yes, I knew there was some reason I had to get up early this morning." She kissed him again.
"Work perhaps?" He intercepted her lips and held them with his own.
"No, not work."
Hermione was not late for work. She was never late for work. Yet she wasn't early as she had planned to be. The one thing she regretted about her early morning dalliance was that, with the party that afternoon, she would have less time for her work. And she so wanted to surprise Severus with it on Christmas.
"God, get me out of here."
"I love it when you call me that."
Hermione abandoned her carefully manufactured pleasant face and scowled at Severus. "Normally I would love to play your little games, but right now, I'm desperately attempting not to kill someone and continue smiling." She smiled suddenly, looking more like a victim of the Imperius curse than one of the evening's celebrated organizers. "And you're doing just lovely as my window dressing; I've seen all the Ministry spinsters eyeing you." Eyelashes fluttered dramatically.
"I can see you're ready to leave." He took her elbow and put on his best not unpleasant face, then led her through the crowd.
After enduring handshakes, kisses, hugs, pats on the back, and even a drunken grope from the notorious Philip (which Severus dealt with by liberally using his most humiliating hexes, and received a modest round of applause for), they exited the Ministry building and apparated home.
After that day, Hermione kept herself secreted away in the guest room with the door securely locked and warded while she worked. Regularly she emerged for meals and sleep; there was no need for it to drive her to such complete distraction. Besides, Severus would comment on her behavior if it was too odd, and then she'd have to tell him instead of keeping it a surprise for him. It was so hard to surprise him with anything, this would be just perfect if she could work out the last niggling details in the remaining days before Christmas.
Crookshanks sat outside the door, faithful to her for once, monitoring her. "Silly old cat," she'd say each time she entered the room, and then she'd shut the door. Never once did he attempt to join her; he was content with the worn rug colored a faded blue and purple to wait upon.
It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve when Crookshanks' ears perked up. In fact, all the fur along his back rose as he got slowly to his feet. His eyes, mostly black with his extremely dilated pupils, locked on the door as he slowly retreated from it. He stayed that way for a few more seconds, and then sound of Hermione's voice came from that room.
"Got it!"
Christmas morning. Severus was awake and she knew it, even if he pretended to be sleeping. "Good morning and happy Christmas, Mr. Grinch."
"You'd like it if I were covered with green fur, wouldn't you?" He opened one eye that shone with rare amusement and watched her.
Shivering almost violently for show, Hermione's eyes rolled up. "I'd love it." Immediately she snapped back to her normal self. "Now get up so we can open presents." She threw back the blankets and hopped out of bed.
Both Severus and Crookshanks made noises of protest, and huddled in the rapidly diminishing warmth.
"Come on. Don't be lazy. I'll have some mint tea made, maybe even some chocolate chip pancakes if you move fast enough. Then... the unwrapping." It was the closest thing to a holy day Hermione had, and it had nothing to do with the Christ child. She pulled on her warmest robe, huge fuzzy bearclaw slippers, pulled her hair back and up, and hurried out of the room.
"Why didn't you tell me she was like this? Still... chocolate chip pancakes..." Severus emerged from the bed to begin his own morning ritual.
Crookshanks stayed buried under the blankets.
Downstairs, Hermione got the water for tea going and was making batter for the pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes would get Severus to cross a room past a werewolf, the big softie. A catchy tune, an old Muggle one her parents had listened to in her extreme youth, popped unexpectedly into her head, and she found herself humming it as she worked.
She paused her humming as the kettle whistled, and when she removed it from the heat, she heard his whispering steps approach the kitchen. "They'll be done in a couple minutes. Tea's ready now," she said loudly, and returned to her humming.
They went through the familiar motions of tea and breakfast together. Hermione was more than a little anxious though, and inhaled her food, not tasting it at all. "Eat faster, Severus. I'm ready to open presents."
"In due time. These really are quite good. Beyond your normally adequate cooking I'd say. Amazing."
Not rising to his bait, Hermione just tapped her foot as she watched him eat. Slowly. Carefully. Annoyingly. "Hurry, or I'll start without you."
"Show some patience. Perhaps if you made these more often, I wouldn't have to spend so much time relishing them. You must understand the simple concept of supply and demand." His eyes were closed and there was an uncommon look of serenity on his face.
Hermione sighed, and for that look, she would wait. Peace, even as simple as this, was something he had a terrible lack of, and even she could not provide it for him with consistency. Elbow resting on the table, she put her head in her hand, and sipped her tea as he ate. "If I had known," she began quietly, "you liked them this much, I would have made them more often."
Smiling now, Severus opened his eyes and looked at her. "I know." He set down his fork and pushed back his chair.
Hermione's cup clattered to the table, and she was off like a shot to the main room and the modest tree set up there--which had been at her insistence. Severus was remarkably unspirited when it came to Christmas.
She smiled when she saw the boxes under the tree, wrapped in delicate green and silver paper with lovely black silk bows and small silver bells for accent. He wasn't much for Christmas, but when he put his mind to it, he could be downright Santa-like. The image of him in a Santa suit, grinding out a snarling "ho ho ho" made her laugh aloud as she kneeled in front of the tree.
Though the gifts were few--his, her own decorated in cheery red and green paper, a small assortment from her various friends and parents, some from his ex-colleagues at Hogwarts--it felt much more true. Rather than a tree heaped with presents, meaningless trinkets from each and every person she had ever made eye contact with, these were gifts from the heart of each of these people. This was what made Christmas for Hermione.
"I'm starting without you!" she yelled and picked up the first gift (Harry's) from under the tree.
"Impatient woman. Allow an old man some time with his tea," Severus grumbled as he ambled--actually ambled, Hermione couldn't believe it--into the room, his tea still steaming.
For being an old man as he claimed, he slid easily into his chair. No doubt he'd start complaining about his arthritis any day now, and request a massage from her. "This one's for you," she said, picking up a small box wrapped in the most hideous multi-colored paper she had ever seen. "Must be from Dumbledore."
For the next quarter hour, they unwrapped the gifts that had come from others. It was only when they were down to the presents from one another that they paused. "Mine first," Hermione said, and stood. She held a slight box in her hands, the only thing special about it being the gold ribbon on it that had small, silver lions marching down its length. "And no guessing what it is before you open it," she warned him, kneeling in front of him now as he took the box and held it.
"Now who's being the Grinch, denying me the opportunity to crush your Christmas hopes that you'd surprise me." Severus grinned, then winced as Hermione pinched the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. "Fine, then. If you're going to resort to dirty pool, I won't say a word."
"That'd be a first." Her eyes alight, Hermione watched him eagerly unwrap the box, setting the ribbon aside with her approval, and opened it. "I love silk," she blurted out when he moved aside the tissue paper.
Eyes half-lidded, he looked down at her. "Against your bare skin, yes?"
Hermione just smiled.
"I will endeavor to wear them often then. Very often." He set aside the box filled with fluid black silk, wearing a small smile, and waited for Hermione to fetch the next gift.
"For Merlin's sake, Hermione. I must object," he said as he held the wrapped object.
"Why?" She blinked innocently.
"Because I know exactly what this is. The first one was bad enough, and now this?"
It was too hard to maintain her innocent expression, and Hermione broke into a fit of giggles. "Just open it. It might have something useful in it."
The paper, bow and ribbon he tore into mercilessly to reveal... Leaste Potente Potions 2: Less Potente Than the Firste. "Wonderful," Severus deadpanned. "I shall treasure it always." He tossed it aside. "At least I know the next one will be good; it certainly couldn't be worse than that."
Hermione held the box out, wearing an especially proud look on her face though it was only the size of her fist.
Curious at what it could be--because he knew the possibilities and discounted most of them--to make her glow in such a manner, Severus unwrapped the small package and opened the box within. He drew out, between his forefinger and thumb, a miniature cauldron. An arched eyebrow was his query.
"I didn't want you to figure it out," Hermione said, a little breathless, and pulled out her wand. "Hold it in your lap; it's a bit heavy." She tapped the tiny rim, and the cauldron resumed its normal size, shining brightly.
"Silver?" Severus asked, admiring the simple beauty. Nothing fancy here, just a well-crafted silver caul--
"Platinum."
He almost sent it tumbling to the floor in his surprise. Now both eyebrows shot up. "Platinum, you say," he said faintly.
"Platinum."
"Oh, well... It's very nice. I'm sure it will come in useful."
And with that unappreciative statement, Hermione knew he was extraordinarily pleased with her gift. She beamed and stood in front of him. "There's one more. It's not as nice as that, but..." She took a deep breath. "Here goes."
"I never stop being amazed at it." Hermione shook her head, a look of appreciation plain on her face. "I know that takes a lot of work, but when did you do it?"
The black snake on the floor hissed at her, then slowly wound its way around her ankle.
"Hey, what are you doing? If you bite me I'll step on you." God that felt weird, and not in a bad way.
The snake was lifting itself up, hugging her leg. No, it was climbing up her leg, under her robes. Slowly, inch by inch, the tail end was disappearing as the head ascended her person.
"S-Severus, what are you doing?" she asked, holding on to the back of a chair to keep herself from collapsing under the strange, new sensation. The squeezing, kneading of her leg as he worked his way up; the touch of his tongue, lighter than a feather; that cool, satiny touch gripping her thigh... He was everywhere on her, slipping beneath the elastic of her panties and emerging to slide across her belly.
"Oh... oh my..." Her legs buckled slowly so she sank gradually to the floor, her leg stretched out before her with the snake still wrapped around it. Now he was wrapped around other things as well, moving in the most fascinating ways against very sensitive skin so that Hermione could barely breathe. "Severus, you... you have to..." Stop. That was what she meant to say; that wasn't what she said. "Wait so I don't hurt you because I think I'm about to do something very very bad."
Yes! That was the look she was waiting for! He had almost fallen out of his chair at her revelation, and she was almost tempted to help him in that regard. But no, she sat and looked at him, waiting to see just what he would do when he recovered his wits.
His eyes were still comically wide, but he managed to speak. "Hermione?"
She nodded.
"You're..." Abruptly Severus recovered himself, the surprise falling away to leave him looking proud and vaguely amused. "Yes, big and showy, just as I thought."
Growling, Hermione reared up, put her paws on his shoulders and shoved him backwards easily, tipping the chair over as if it were just a glass bumped by her hand. Moving right away, she crouched low over him, yellow eyes narrowed, and continued to growl.
"I can't help if it's the truth, Hermione," Severus said, pinned to the floor by one paw in the middle of his chest. "You certainly can't manage any sort of espionage like that unless you're in a zoo."
Slowly Hermione moved her paw, and the room was filled with the sound of ripping cloth. When she back away, his robe was in tatters with four long tears down the front.
"I never said it was a bad thing. In fact, you are quite beautiful. I've never seen anything like it before."
Hermione paced the room twice before she glared at Severus, her tail swishing back and forth quickly, ears laid flat. If he had any wisdom, he'd start groveling.
"Hermione, please. I meant nothing negative," he said, sitting up. "I always knew you could do anything you wanted to if you applied yourself. Here you've proven it, and you're nothing so base as dog. Stop taking what I said the wrong way." He gave her a lopsided grin. "My queen."
She was upon him once again, her paws upon his shoulders, pinning him to the floor, her face less than an inch from his.
"Your whiskers are tickling me."
Hermione started to laugh, and that dissolved her concentration so that she changed back to her entirely human form. "Now you know how I feel when you don't shave." Between them, she looked at his torn clothing. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"On the contrary. You've made me... surprisingly happy. I'm not sure why. Animagi come in many forms, some mundane, some relatively magical, but I don't think I've ever seen one as exotic as you."
A blush colored her cheeks, and she had to look away. "I owe it to you," she murmured. "Before I came here, I probably would have changed into a smarter-than-average head of lettuce."
His hand came up and stroked her cheek, moving hair from her eyes. "But now you're a tiger." He leaned up and kissed her slowly.
"A tiger..." Ideas of all the things she could do started to spin through her head. She had done it! An animagus finally!
"But now," Severus' voice interrupted her glee, "you have some presents to open."
"Oh! I do!" The whole incident was forgotten with the promise of more presents, and Hermione was sitting under the tree, ripping open the wrapped of her first gift. "Ohh, who helped pick this out," she asked teasingly when she pulled out the matching bra and panties.
Severus flushed. "Well, you see..."
But Hermione was already opening the next. This time, she held the garment up and looked straight through it at Severus. "Excuse me?"
This time, he just coughed. "If I have to explain it to you, I may need to check your tea for Polyjuice."
"Don't worry. I'll put it to good use and for longer than an hour." She looked back at the tree and was a little disheartened to see there were no more presents. "This is always my least favorite part of Christmas: waiting for the afterglow to finally wear off."
"Come here, Miss Granger."
Not bothering to question him, she took his proffered hand and rose to her feet. Settling in his lap, her legs over the arm and feet swinging slightly, she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Tell me, little girl, what you would like for Christmas?" he whispered, putting his arm around her back and releasing her hand.
"You're a little late. It's already Christmas and I got everything I wanted." Hermione closed her eyes and sighed delicately. Yes, the giddy feelings were fading steadily now.
"I seem to have one more though. Perhaps it's not for you then."
One eye opened and studied him. He was not looking at her, his eyes down and focused on his free right hand. She took a moment to look at his hand as well, and went very, very still.
"I had assumed," he said with a trace of confusion, "that it was for you. But if you're not interested in seeing what it is, I will, of course, understand." Severus turned the small, ivory-colored box, his fingertips toying with the lip of it, almost opening it.
Instead of speaking, Hermione, both eyes open now, plucked the box from his hand. "For me?"
"Of course."
He was watching her now, his gaze as tangible as the box she was holding. With a slightly shaking hand, she opened it slowly, afraid to see what it was holding. Afraid, but unable to not look, to hope and anticipate.
"We said something, tentative, before," he said, as he removed the ring from its hold in the box, "but I am a man who prefers solid obligations. So once I place this on your finger, you realize that I will have to marry you, do you not?"
Hermione nodded, her eyes wide and fixed on the ring. So simple with one small, shining diamond on it...
"Not platinum, I'm afraid. I'm rather partial to white gold." The ring slipped easily on her finger, which had relinquished the box to stay steady for his task. "Silver is more appropriate than that horribly gaudy gold, but too mechanical, service-oriented for you. White gold retains that elegance, and though it is less pure than the standard adornment of the metal--"
She kissed him.
TBC