A/N: I've been fighting this urge for a long time, folks. But I can't keep this in any longer. I had to write it.

Harry's annual Christmas parties at Grimmauld Place were somewhat legendary.

It had been five years since the first one, and it had gone down in history from the moment that The Boy Who Lived challenged Hagrid to a drinking game and won. Each year promised more elaborate decorations, more alcohol, more dancing, more unexpected surprises.

The entire house is decorated from top to bottom in the gaudiest of Christmas decorations, and as Hermione walks down the hallway, she can hear the noise of the party coming from the living room at the end of the corridor. Her stomach twists and she keeps pulling down her dress every few steps, feeling self-conscious and ridiculous in high heels which clack obnoxiously against the wooden floorboards, making her cringe. Why had she talked herself into wearing heels?!

Finally, upon reaching the door to the living room, Hermione takes a deep, preparatory breath and tries to swallow her anxiety before entering.

It's the largest room of the house and has been decorated to the absolute nines. Over the heads of everyone pressed into the room, a huge Christmas tree stands proudly in one corner by the wall of bookcases.

The fire is roaring and the gramophone is playing loudly, barely distinguishable over the hub and chatter of the many guests. Excusing herself, Hermione manages to slip past various members of the Ministry of Magic, Aurors, old members of her Hogwarts cohort and ex-DA members who are gathering in their own little cliques and give her a brief greeting, until she reaches the heart and soul of the party who is pouring his wife a drink.

'Hermione!' Harry cheers and pulls her into a hug.

'Hello, you,' she smiles and holds him tightly.

'Babe!' Ginny, who looks amazing in a tight floor length dress made of shimmering red fabric, is next to throw her arms around Hermione. 'You look fantastic! Check your ass in that dress – and with those heels! You make me so proud.'

Hermione manages to laugh. 'Thanks,' she says. 'I tried.'

'I'm so glad you came!' Harry touches her on the arm. 'I wasn't sure if you'd make it since –'

Ginny drives her elbow swiftly into Harry's ribs to cut him off. 'Stop being tactless, Potter,' she says.

'It's fine,' Hermione feels her smile falter a little. 'Of course I came – I wouldn't miss your annual Christmas party for anything.'

'I'm glad.' Harry smiles.

'You've really outdone yourselves this year,' Hermione comments as she drags her eyes around the room. There seems to be something new every time she looks.

Harry nods, looking pleased. His cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. 'I think this is going to be the best one yet,' he says.

'You say that every year,' Ginny teases.

'And am I wrong?'

'Never,' she smiles up at him and they kiss.

Hermione drops her eyes, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and tries to ignore the stab of loneliness in her chest at seeing them so happy.

Ginny clears her throat suddenly and when Hermione looks up, she sees her friends looking slightly embarrassed at their lack of tact. 'Let's get you a drink,' Ginny says. 'Darling, go get Hermione a drink,' she orders Harry who rolls his eyes good naturedly.

'Back in a minute,' he says, disappearing into the crowd in search of one of the many punch-bowls dotted around the room.

'So,' Ginny begins meaningfully.

'I'm fine,' Hermione says immediately. 'Honestly, if one more person asks how I am –'

'Hey –' Ginny places a hand on Hermione's arm. 'Please don't be mad – we're just worried.'

Hermione feels her shoulders slump. 'I know,' she says. 'I'm sorry.'

Ginny sighs. 'You don't need to apologise. I'm sure it must get exhausting.'

'Sorry,' she says again.

'Are you sure you're okay to be here?' Ginny asks gently. 'If it gets too much, please promise you'll tell me. We can hide in my room with a bottle of wine.'

Hermione smiles a little.

'It's okay,' she assures her. 'I can't hide from him forever.'

'Is tonight going to be the first time you've seen him since …?'

'Since the break up? Yeah.'

Ginny nods. 'Just one step at a time, babe.'

'I just want it to be okay again.'

'I know,' Ginny says sympathetically. 'I'm so proud of you for coming.'

Hermione scoffs. 'It took me three hours just to pull myself together enough to get ready. And this was as good as it got.'

'You look great,' Ginny assures her. Hermione gives her a look. 'Honestly,' she insists. 'But you do need some lipstick.' Hermione can't help but laugh a little as Ginny reaches into her clutch bag and pulls out a small tube. Ginny uncaps the lipstick and leans forward to apply the colour for her. She leans back to admire her work and reaches out to fluff Hermione's hair a little. 'There!' She says, looking pleased with herself. 'Much better.'

'Thanks.'

Harry appears with a goblet of punch in his hand which he offers to Hermione. But right behind him with a goblet of wine in his own hand, and looking a little unsure of how to act, is Ron.

Hermione's heart hammers in her mouth.

'Hey!' Harry says with the tone of someone panicking and trying to overcompensate for the awkward situation when your two best friends in the world break up after almost five years together. 'Ron's here!'

'I can see that,' Hermione says mildly and then forces herself to look at Ron properly. She hates him for the pity she sees behind his pale blue eyes. 'Hey,' she says.

'Hey, Hermione,' he smiles at her. 'How are you doing?'

'Great,' she says unconvincingly. 'You?'

'Good,' he nods. 'I'm glad to hear it.'

There's silence as they all stand together in a small group, the tension utterly palpable. Despite all the effort she put into picking out her tightest dress and highest heels, Ron hasn't even looked twice at her.

'So!' Ginny forces a smile. 'How was your day, Ronald?'

'Yeah, fine,' he looks down at his sister. 'Yours?'

Ginny gestures around them. 'This was my day,' she says.

'Looks great,' he says appreciatively. 'You guys always go all out for these parties.'

Harry laughs. 'Of course,' he says,reaching up and rumpling his hair. 'Or what's the point.'

'Yeah fair,' Ron says with a grin. It makes Hermione's chest ache to see him happy.

The adrenaline in Hermione's veins is pumping so fast it's making her dizzy and it's so obvious that it's her presence making everyone feel awkward. She clears her throat.

'Excuse me,' she says, forcing a smile. 'I think I saw someone from work – I'm going to go and say hello.'

Before Ginny can try to catch up with her, Hermione turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd, feeling tears needling behind her eyes. She won't cry – not here. Not at Harry's Christmas party.

There's not a chance in hell that she is about to let herself cause a scene over Ronald-fucking-Weasley.

As soon as she exits the room back into the hallway, Hermione heaves a huge sigh of relief. It's too noisy and crowded back there. As much as she wants to leave, she reasons with herself - a glass of water from the kitchen and twenty minutes alone before going back to the party. She steels herself and with the racket of festive enjoyment behind her, walks down the hallway into the kitchen.

She rounds the corner through the doorway and – 'oh!' Hermione collides right into the chest of – 'Snape! I'm sorry - I was miles away.'

'Hello, Granger,' Snape looks down at her, black eyes glittering in the fairylights which have been strung over every surface possible in the huge house.

She steps back from him, cheeks burning. Her eyes catch on something hanging above them from the doorframe and she jumps back when she recognises it as mistletoe. Snape's eyes follow hers upwards and he smirks a little when he also sees it. 'Sorry.' She says again. 'I should have been watching where I was going.'

'Not to worry. I was just heading out.' He sidesteps around her and passes out of the kitchen into the hallway.

'You're leaving?'

Snape shrugs and walks down towards the front door to where a coat stand is almost bowing with the weight of many heavy travelling cloaks. 'Is that alright?'

Hermione struggles for something to say as she watches him summon his black cloak from the stand. His hair is as sleek and dark as ever, but as he moves in the lowlight, she catches glimmers of silver.

'Y-yes,' she stammers. 'But I –'

'I'm sure there's plenty of people here for you to be mingling with so that you won't notice my absence,' Snape says mildly as he shakes out his cloak and makes to put it on. 'Weasley, for example. Or one of the many other –'

'We broke up,' Hermione says suddenly. It rips through her chest just to admit it. There's a part of it all which still doesn't feel real. 'We broke up and now I feel like I have no one to talk to and I don't want to be here.' Her confession rings between them in the empty hallway. The whine of the gramophone echoes down the hall.

Snape doesn't look at her but his hand hovers, holding his cloak. He seems to be considering whether to put it in or not. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Granger,' he says finally. 'How did he take it?'

'Excuse me?'

'Weasley,' Snape says, turning to look at her. 'How did he take the breakup?'

She frowns a little in confusion. 'Fine, I assume,' she says with a shrug. 'The people who initiate the breakup usually are fine.'

Snape blinks in surprise. 'Sorry –' he says. 'I'm not sure I've understood. He broke up with you?'

'Please don't mock me,' Hermione says tiredly.

'I wasn't,' he says. 'I'm shocked. The boy really is as stupid as I always said.'

'What do you mean?'

A small smile pulls over his lips. 'You're an intelligent witch,' Snape says. 'I'm sure you can ascertain that I'm clearly insinuating his ignorance in breaking up with a witch as accomplished and, quite frankly, impressive, as you are.'

Hermione's eyes thin slightly in suspicion. 'I've had a couple of drinks and I can't tell whether you're being serious or not.'

'I'm always serious, Granger.'

She swallows. 'Well,' she says. 'Thanks. I think.'

'You're welcome.'

The realisation that she is voluntarily seeking refuge with Severus Snape washes over her. 'Fuck,' she breathes and rubs a hand over her forehead. 'This is a weird night.'

'You're telling me,' Snape says with a snort. 'It must be a Christmas miracle to hear the wizarding world's golden girl cursing.'

She shoots him a look. 'I'm not a child, Severus.'

Snape looks briefly taken aback at her use of his first name. 'No,' he says slowly. 'I can see that.'

After a beat, Snape sighs a little. He replaces his cloak on the stand and turns fully to her. 'So,' he says, somewhat awkwardly. 'If we're both somewhat of a social pariah, do you fancy being social pariahs together?'

Hermione relaxes her shoulders and smiles. 'Please.'

'Fine,' Snape lifts his chin a little. 'Would you, uh,' he looks unsure of himself. 'Would you like … a drink?'

Hermione looks down at her half-full goblet and without thinking twice, downs the entire thing in one. 'Please,' she says.

Snape's brief look of surprise almost amuses her. 'Alright.'

He takes her goblet and his fingers graze hers lightly.

She follows him into the kitchen and sits on top of one of the counters as she watches Snape open the pantry and look around for something to drink. 'Classic Potter,' he scoffs. 'No organisation at all.'

Hermione smiles to herself.

'Right,' Snape turns back to her. 'I've found tequila, pumpkin juice, or I can go and get something from the dreaded party room.'

'Tequila,' Hermione says without missing a beat.

Snape blinks. 'With … what?'

'With nothing,' she says. 'Haven't you ever drunk plain tequila before?'

'I think,' he says. 'You might be able to guess that I have not.'

Hermione hums. 'It's been a long time since you were a student,' she teases.

Snape flashes her a look but he seems almost amused. 'I miss the days when you used to be frightened of me.'

'No you don't,' she says. 'It fucking sucks walking into a room and feeling like no one knows how to talk to you anymore.'

'Bloody hell, Granger,' he says. 'Keep it light at Christmas, won't you?'

'Sorry.'

'Maybe we do need this,' he comes back over to her, standing in front of her as he pours them both half a goblet of tequila. He pulls a face slightly. 'Are you sure you don't want something to mix in it?'

As if to answer him, Hermione locks eyes with him and takes a sip. Snape watches her deadpan expression as she swallows without as much of a shudder. She raises a challenging eyebrow.

'Still a Gryffindor show-off,' he says, moving to lean against the counter beside her.

'Always.'

He laughs a little.

They're quiet for a moment but it's not uncomfortable. It's actually the most relaxed she's felt all evening. There's something very calming about being in the presence of Severus Snape.

'It feels so weird being on the outside of the action,' Hermione admits suddenly. 'I'm not used to hiding away during a party, or making excuses to leave. I'm used to –'

'Being in the middle of it all?' Snape finished dryly.

She flushes. 'Yes,' she says quietly. 'As conceited as it sounds.'

'You can't help the circumstances you adjusted to,' he says. 'You've spent over a decade being forced into the limelight.'

'I wasn't always in the middle of attention,' she says suddenly, almost angry. 'I didn't ask to be the 'Golden Girl' of the fucking wizarding world,' she draws quotation marks in the air and Snape has the decency to look somewhat chastised.

'I'm sorry,' he says. 'I wasn't trying to be cruel.'

'No,' she shakes her head. 'I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so defensive. This breakup hasn't been … well. It hasn't been easy, to put it mildly.'

'When did you break up?'

'53 days ago,' Hermione says without missing a beat. She gives a bitter laugh. 'Pathetic, isn't it? And Ron doesn't even seem bothered.'

Snape doesn't say anything for a moment. They both take a drink.

Hermione sighs. 'No one ever tells you that life is still hard, even after you win a war when you're still just a teenager.'

Snape nods. 'You accomplished more in your adolescent years than most wizards do in a lifetime.'

'I thought – once it was over – that things would be easy. I thought Ron and I were supposed to be together. I thought – I thought we'd be like Harry and Ginny.'

'Not everyone is that lucky,' Snape tells her gently. His tone surprises her and when she looks up at him, she sees a softer expression than expected. Their faces are close. 'Some people get it right the first time. For others it takes longer.'

'Did you ever get it right?' She asks him, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Snape pushes air from his nose in derision and turns his face back to face forwards again. 'No,' he says quietly. He drops his eyes to his almost empty goblet. 'No, I didn't ever get it right.'

'I think this is it for me,' she says. 'No one is ever going to date me.'

'I forget how dramatic everything feels when you're only twenty-two,' a half smile pulls at Snape's lips. 'You're still young, Granger.'

'Twenty-four,' she corrects him.

'I couldn't be more sorry.'

'And I don't feel young,' she admits. 'I feel so fucking old.'

'Five points from Gryffindor for language,' he says lightly and she laughs. Actually laughs. Snape looks briefly delighted.

'I'm serious,' she whines with the echo of a giggle in her tone. 'No one else in the entire world is going to want to date me.'

Snape turns and raises a perfect eyebrow. 'Fine, I'll humour you. And, pray tell,' he says. 'Why on Earth would anyone not want to date you?'

'Because of … all this,' Hermione gestures down at herself.

'All I see is an attractive young woman,' Snape says. 'What am I missing?'

Hermione sighs but his compliment has not gone unnoticed judging by the flush across her cheeks. 'They're either too intimidated by my intelligence, or by my reputation.'

'Boys might be intimidated, Granger,' Snape says in that perfectly low baritone voice that Hermione swears she can feel reverberating through her chest. He leans in a little. Her mouth feels dry. 'But a man wouldn't be.'

Hermione feels all the air leave her chest as he leans back from her with an unreadable expression on his face. Is he … flirting with her?

'Well,' she says, clearing her throat. 'I'll let you know if I find someone that can handle me.'

Snape doesn't reply. They take another drink again. Hermione has clearly been drinking more often than she thought because her goblet is now empty.

'Ready for a top up?' She asks, jumping down from the countertop onto the floor and pulling her tight dress down a little more. Snape averts his eyes.

'No,' he says incredulously. 'I've not even had half of this.'

'Amatuer,' Hermione turns back to the pantry to retrieve the tequila and pours herself another drink.

'Hadn't you better slow down?'

She gives him a withering look. 'I can handle my alcohol,' she says. 'You don't have a breakup like this one and still have the tolerance of a teenager 53 days later.'

Severus feels something tugging across his chest as he watches her. He was shocked when she said she was in her mid-twenties. Where the fuck had the last several years gone? Instead of the somewhat awkward teenager she had been, Hermione Granger now holds herself with the confidence of a young woman, but with the weight of the world on her shoulders. And those high heels should be illegal with a dress that short and tight. Severus shakes his head slightly. How any man could let a woman like her go was beyond him.

'What?' Hermione says as she notices him staring.

He clears his throat and takes a large drink that leaves his throat burning. He tips his goblet towards her and she grins. 'I never thought I'd say this, Granger,' he says. 'But you are a terrible influence.'

Hermione totters over to him and pours more tequila into his cup.

'Need a hand?' He asks.

'Thanks,' Hermione hands him her goblet so she can ease herself back up on the counter.

Snape hands her the drink and she takes it. 'Doesn't it sort of defeat the point if you're wearing shoes you can't even stand in?'

Hermione sighs. 'It's so stupid – I was –'

'Trying to make Weasley jealous?'

She nods.

'If it didn't work, Weasley needs to be checked for visual impairment.'

Hermione giggles again. 'Stop it, you might actually make me feel better.'

'I hope so,' he says. Hermione blushes and Severus clears his throat. 'How has everyone been with you since the breakup?'

Her smile drops immediately and Severus regrets reminding her. 'It's been hard on everyone,' she says. 'But I'm naturally the odd one out. Especially since Harry married his way in. Don't get me wrong, Ginny and Harry have been great. But Ron is still –'

'Their brother.'

'Right.'

'I'm sorry.'

Hermione shrugs. 'Me too.'

'Why did he end things?'

Hermione sighs. 'He said he just wasn't in love with me,' she says quietly. 'It's the most humiliating way to break up with someone. He's wasted five years of my life.'

Snape shakes his head. 'His loss,' he says.

'Tell him that.'

'Don't think I won't.'

Hermione laughs sadly. They fall silent again. 'Sorry,' she says suddenly. 'I feel like all I've done is talk about myself.'

'Don't apologise. My life isn't that interesting.'

'Are you still at Hogwarts?'

'I am,' he says. 'As always.'

Hermione takes a drink. 'How did you cope … after … everything,' she finishes weakly.

'I assume you're meaning the attack from Nagini?' Snape asks coolly. Hermione nods. He sighs and puts his goblet down. 'I survived.'

'How?' Hermione asks, shaking her head. 'I … I came to check – you –' she swallows hard and her voice is shaky. 'I thought you were dead. I left you,' she sounds tormented.

'It wasn't your fault,' he assures her.

Hermione doesn't look convinced. 'You – your neck –' Her eyes fall to his neck which is covered by the high collar of his shirt.

'Do you want to see?'

She looks at him. 'Sorry – I didn't mean to be rude.'

'You're not,' he says. 'I don't mind.'

Hermione nods. The tequila prompts her bravery when she finds herself asking: 'show me?'

Severus swallows and then moves to stand in front of her knees, facing her straight on. 'I warn you, Hermione,' he says as his fingers reach up to his top button. 'It's not pretty. But the Healers did what they could.'

She nods and watches, captivated, as Snape's deft fingers pop open the top four buttons of his dress shirt. He holds his breath as he pushes the fabric away from his neck and turns his head to the side. He's standing so close to her that her knees are pressing into his stomach. Somewhat subconsciously, Hermione opens her legs and he steps in so she can look closer. He closes his eyes.

No-one has seen this.

The scar that stretches around the right-hand side of his neck is deep violet and ropey and the skin around it is silvery and paperthin. Hermione swallows hard. He wasn't kidding. It's not pretty at all.

'Oh,' she breathes and Severus feels it skitter over the sensitive skin of his neck. 'Severus.'

There it was again - his name being spoken in a tone divorced of pity or fear or malice. He didn't think his name could ever have sounded so good.

'I did warn you,' he says thinly.

'Can I touch you?' She murmurs without thinking.

Snape hesitates a moment before nodding once.

Her fingertips gently brush along the scar and Severus has to recite the ingredients for various potions in his head to try and distract himself. It feels good to have her touching him. Too good.

He clears his throat and steps back suddenly. Hermione's hand is frozen in midair from where it had been tracing him, and her cheeks flush crimson again as she drops her hand and closes her legs.

'Thank you,' she says quietly. 'For showing me.'

Severus fastens the buttons of his shirt and doesn't reply. He reaches for his goblet and takes a drink, the seer of tequila settling his nerves somewhat.

The atmosphere seems to have shifted – instead of the calm and oddly companionable mood, it feels charged and when their eyes meet again, Hermione swears she can feel sparks.

As if he feels it too, Severus turns away. 'It's late,' he says suddenly. 'I should go before Potter starts another one of his infamous dance battles.'

'Severus –' Hermione has jumped back down from the counter and reaches out to grab his arm to keep him from leaving and it shocks them both. 'I don't – I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'

Severus drops his shoulders. 'You didn't,' he assures her. 'I'm just …' He swallows roughly. 'I don't want to be inappropriate.'

Hermione shakes her head and steps towards him. 'You're not.'

'Tequila and a broken heart will make people do some regrettable things, Granger,' he tells her in a rumble, watching her carefully.

Her eyes flick briefly down to his lips. 'Severus, I –'

The huge grandfather clock in the hallway chimes loudly; they both jump and then look at each other and laugh slightly, breaking the tension. Hermione runs a hand through her hair feeling immediately sobered.

'Thank you for tonight,' she says. 'I needed this. You were great company. And thank you for listening to me – I really appreciate it.'

Severus manages a smile. 'No need to thank me. Thank you for making this a surprisingly enjoyable evening.'

They're now both standing in the doorway when Hermione's eyes glance back up to the mistletoe.

She looks at him and he looks at her and she can't explain what makes her do it, but Hermione rocks forward onto her tiptoes, wraps her arms around his neck to pull him down to her height, and kisses her former Potions Master on the mouth.

Snape is frozen in shock for a second before pulling her closer against him and deepening the kiss. She feels sparks flying between them as his tongue swipes at her lower lip and she moans quietly in relief at feeling someone else holding her. Kissing her.

But then he pulls away and looks down at her with a small smile. It's sad and apologetic. 'You're beautiful, Hermione,' he says gently. 'But you're about twenty years too late.'

'Severus –'

'See you around, Granger,' he says. Her face drops and he uses the crook of his index finger to tip her chin up to look at him. 'Don't let those stupid boys get you down, you hear me?'

She nods.

'Good girl,' he says.

Hermione opens her mouth but there's the sound of footsteps down the hallway and they look at each other.

'Merry Christmas, Hermione,' he drops a kiss on her forehead.

'Merry Christmas, Severus,' she breathes.

He disapparates with a crack leaving her standing alone in the kitchen with a cocktail of excitement and anxiety gnawing in the pit of her stomach.

One thing was for sure – something unexpected certainly happened at every Christmas party at Grimmauld Place.