Snape sat beside Hermione's bed, watching as she slept. She had not let go
of his hand since he'd brought her back, refusing to let him leave her. His
blood still boiled at the treatment Malfoy had subjected her to, his heart
demanding revenge. But he wasn't going to leave her if she didn't want him
to.
Gently he reached out and stroked her chestnut curls, smiling tenderly when she instinctively turned towards the loving touch. He didn't care that Sirius Black was watching, seeing his attachment to her, only that his presence had somehow calmed her. Her grip tightened momentarily on his hand, drawing it closer in her sleep.
Sirius watched this, feeling oddly like a child who had walked in on his parents having a moment together. Even he could see the love, the bond between these two, and he was loath to interrupt. His plan had been to make sure that Snape wouldn't intimidate Hermione when she woke, but the longer he remained, the more certain he became that no such thing would take place.
Eventually, he rose quietly, hoping not to disturb them. Snape glanced up at him, frowning at his movement. Sirius held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
'I'll leave you to it,' he said softly, squeezing Snape's shoulder before walking out.
The Potions Master stared after him, aware that the air between them had finally been cleared, after twenty years of distrust. Hermione stirred slightly, her grip on his hand relaxing as she rolled over. Gently he removed his hand, standing and slipping to the door.
'Where are you going?'
He stopped, looking back at the bed, where Hermione was gazing at him with fearful eyes. He sighed softly.
'I was going to leave you in peace.'
She sat up, her hair falling about her shoulders.
'Don't leave me,' she pleaded, her breathing hitching in a way that suggested tears were not far away.
Snape smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his stern features, and returned to her side. Hermione captured his hands in hers, looking into his eyes with all the love in her heart. His breath caught in his throat as she wrapped her arms about his neck, pulling him into a close embrace. He hesitated for a moment before slipping his arms around her waist, revelling in the feel of her body pressed against his. She pulled back, laying her forehead against his.
'Stay with me,' she breathed, once again caught up by the glittering emotion in his black eyes.
He gazed at her, sensing that something had changed. His heart was hammering in his chest as he leant closer, laying her gently back on the bed. His hand sought hers and held it, the soft pressure of his slender fingers calming her more than flowery words or gestures. She smiled sleepily, pushing aside the events of the evening, happy to be lying here with Snape beside her. Slowly her eyes drifted shut, and she sighed, falling deeply asleep.
Snape gazed at her, feeling his chest tighten as she pulled his hand closer, laying it on her cheek. She was so vulnerable and innocent, even after all she had been through. He didn't deserve her, he reminded himself. She should never have to deal with the taint on his soul. Decided, he returned his gaze to contemplating her peaceful face and felt his expression soften once more. Stay with me, she had said.
Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he leant forward until his mouth was by her ear.
'For as long as you need me,' he promised, and kissed her cheek softly.
Hermione stirred, a contented smile curving her lips, as though she had heard him. Snape sighed. He knew he had to let her go, but he didn't know what he would do without her.
*~*~*
The winter sunlight shone bright and cold through the casement, illuminating the pillow on which Hermione's head rested. She groaned, grimacing against the light, and rolled over to find herself confronted by a grinning face. She sat bolt upright with a little shriek, scrambling backwards on the bed with a scowl firmly in place on her features.
Ron laughed, standing up from where he'd been kneeling by the bed. Hermione punched his arm, half-serious.
'What are you trying to do, give me a heart-attack?' she demanded, cinnamon eyes blazing.
All she got in reply was an impish grin as her friend threw himself onto the bed beside her, ruffling Crookshanks' fur. The ginger cat drew in his claws and caught the intruder a tidy thump about the shoulder. Ron yelped, rubbing the sore spot with self-pitying frown. Hermione laughed.
'Don't look at me for sympathy,' she warned as he turned puppy-dog eyes on her. 'What are you doing here? And how did you get in?'
Ron sighed, gazing happily up at the ceiling.
'Ah, house-elves,' he breathed, 'wonderful creatures, aren't they?'
Hermione's eyebrow rose sardonically.
'Ron,' she said quietly, her tone dangerous.
Ron glanced at her, and bounced about on the mattress until he was face to face with his best friend. Twisting a lock of chestnut hair between his fingers, he leant forward conspiratorially and whispered,
'Can you keep a secret?'
Fighting back an amused smile, Hermione nodded, intrigued by his amazingly good spirits.
'I've been offered a place as an Auror.'
Hermione gasped, extremely pleased for him. As she moved to embrace him, Ron held up a hand.
'That's not all,' he told her, a genuine grin of sincere pleasure plastered across his freckled face. 'Parvati's agreed to marry me.'
The next thing he knew was that Hermione's arms were around his neck, and she was squealing with happiness for him. He wrapped his arms about her, glad that the news hadn't brought up bad memories. He knew for a fact - because he'd been the other half of the conversation - that Harry had planned on asking Hermione to marry him when she was settled in a safe house. Still, she didn't know, and ignorance couldn't hurt her.
'When is the wedding?' she asked, eyes glowing with joy for her friends.
Ron grinned.
'Easter, sometime,' he told her, stroking her hair. 'Parvati wants you to help her pick out her gown.'
Hermione looked astonished, but pleased, agreeing instantly to assist her old Housemate. Ron nodded to himself, seeing the glow on her cheeks that had disappeared for months over the last year. Now she was settled again, and in love, she was slowly coming back to herself. He prodded her stomach playfully.
'How's the grand seduction coming?'
Hermione groaned and hit him with a pillow.
'Do you have to call it that?'
He chuckled, grabbing the pillow from her grasp as she raised it again.
'Still just friends, then?'
She sagged, grinning at his mockingly sympathetic gaze.
'Yes, but I'm working on it,' she assured him.
'Oh, that reminds me,' Ron said suddenly. 'Can't think why, but there you go. Mum wants to know if you'll come and spend Christmas with us. Even Laura's been talked into it, and you're the only one who can keep Percy from driving us all insane, 'Mione.'
Hermione gave him a calculating look.
She had planned on spending Christmas with Snape, trying to force him to admit his feelings. But now she thought about it, they were both chafing under the amount of time they were spending together. So a little time apart might help her cause a great deal. She nodded, yelping in surprise when Ron lifted her off the bed and swung her about.
'That's brilliant! I'll meet you off the Express, and you can fill me in on all the sordid details!'
Laughing indignantly, Hermione watched him leave, curling up on her bed to try and recapture the sleep that he had so rudely interrupted. Crookshanks curled up beside her, purring madly. She stroked him gently.
'You'll have to get used to sharing me, Crooks,' she murmured. 'If I get my way, there'll be another man about the house.'
The ginger cat gave her a look as if to say 'I'll believe it when I see it' and yawned, settling his head on her hand. Hermione smiled softly. She would get her way, she was certain of it.
*~*~*
'Merry Christmas!'
Both Ginny and Hermione groaned at the roar that echoed through the house. Ron was up, probably dragging the twins out of bed to go and attack the piles of gifts that were at the foot of their bed.
At the other end of their room, Laura forced herself awake, prodding Parvati with her foot. Contrary to Molly's fears that the dragon-keeper wouldn't get along with the younger girls, Laura had warmed straight to them, sharing confidences that she insisted Charlie didn't even know yet. The four of them had stayed up talking until the early hours, finally drifting to sleep when they couldn't hold it off any longer.
'Come on, girls, wake up,' she encouraged, throwing her pillows at Ginny.
Parvati obliged by doing the same to Hermione, who sighed under the bedclothes and gave up trying to stay asleep, since the world was so obviously against it. She sat up, returning the pillows with pinpoint accuracy, and laughing as Parvati fell backwards off the bed.
Between the three of them, they managed to drag Ginny out of slumber, wrapping her in a dressing gown, and depositing her on the floor in front of her presents. She grumbled all the way, but was soon tearing open her gifts with as much enthusiasm as they were.
Hermione's eye fell on a tiny green and silver wrapped box, hidden beneath the other gifts. Lifting it out, she tried to quell the sudden hammering of her heart as she read the familiar scrawl on the card. Just a simple note, but one she knew must have cost him a lot to write.
~ Merry Christmas, Hermione.~
She knew from the other professors that Snape never got involved in Christmas, refusing gifts and never deigning to send any, and so felt oddly privileged to have made such an impression on him. Carefully opening it, hoping her friends wouldn't notice her shaking hands, she found it contained a single emerald tear-drop, suspended on a silver chain so thin as to be almost invisible. Deep within the gem sparkled a tiny red flame.
Looking over her shoulder, Ginny gasped.
'Great stars, 'Mione, who gave you that? It's beautiful!'
Hermione nodded, dumbstruck, as she fought back a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.
'Severus,' she told them, seeing the utter disbelief on their faces.
She lifted it from the box, feeling her fingers tingle, telling her that it was charmed. Probably against breakage, she decided, and fastened it about her neck, her heart singing with love for the man who had sent it. The emerald hung in the hollow of her throat, sparkling in the sunlight.
*~*~*
Snape walked slowly through the hallways of Hogwarts, trying to fight the desperate feeling of loneliness that welled up inside him. Outside the snow was falling in huge drifts, the wind keeping the students and staff alike inside. Yet another Christmas at Hogwarts. At least there weren't hundreds of children running about under his feet. Most had gone home for the holidays.
His face froze as he thought of who else had gone. Hermione. She'd been invited to the Weasley's for Christmas, and he couldn't begrudge her the chance to spend time with her friends. The two Aurors who had raised her as a Muggle for all this time had left her to her own devices, since she was now old enough to make her own decisions. Still, he was finding it hard not to feel resentful of them.
Without Hermione, they would still have a warm familial festival. She had chosen to leave him alone at one of the loneliest times of the year. He shook himself mentally. He had no right to expect her to remain with him. After all, what warmth had he shown her during her time with him?
Unbidden, images of her working in his workshop rose in his mind. The day she had slipped, and he'd caught her, acutely aware of how close their bodies were. The evenings they'd spent together, trying to find out exactly how her proposed potion for the research would work. Her constant teasing about how he should wear colours other than black. Her smile, her laugh, the gentle caress of her gaze as her cinnamon eyes fixed on his. He sighed softly.
The door to his apartment opened slowly, allowing him passage within. Contrary to popular opinion, Snape didn't ward or password his rooms, knowing the mind of the inquisitive student a little too well. Rather than try the simple unlocking charm, they would research every ward breaker and password generator they could find, completely unable to work out why their attempts had failed.
A faint scent reached his nose, causing his brow to furrow in confusion. Looking around, he noticed to his surprise a box on his desk. It was wrapped up in a silver ribbon, and had a card that bore his name. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the scent. Hermione's shampoo. It always left a sharp sweet smell in the air, no matter how short a time she'd been there. He picked up the box, a smile forming on his pale face.
Opening it like a child on his first Christmas morning, he found it contained a shirt of such deep blue that it was almost black. It smelt of Hermione, sending his imagination into over-drive. Had she worn it? How had she chosen it? Why? As he held the silken material up to the dim light of a nearby candle, a small square of card fell out of its folds.
Retrieving it, he read,
~ Still think I'm only teasing? Next time I see you, you'd better be wearing this. Anyway, have a great Christmas, Severus. Thinking of you,
Hermione. ~
He snorted, the old habit of keeping laughter in check asserting itself. Shaking his head, he re-read the note, his eyes lingering on the last line. Thinking of you. Again, he asked himself, why? Could it be that she was developing feelings for him?
He dismissed the possibility off-hand. She was probably thinking of how lonely he was, how completely Scrooge he'd been about the whole season. But part of him hoped, in the dark depths of his soul, that she meant that she missed him, maybe even loved him. It was a foolish hope, he knew, but one that held a fragile promise of happiness.
Gently he reached out and stroked her chestnut curls, smiling tenderly when she instinctively turned towards the loving touch. He didn't care that Sirius Black was watching, seeing his attachment to her, only that his presence had somehow calmed her. Her grip tightened momentarily on his hand, drawing it closer in her sleep.
Sirius watched this, feeling oddly like a child who had walked in on his parents having a moment together. Even he could see the love, the bond between these two, and he was loath to interrupt. His plan had been to make sure that Snape wouldn't intimidate Hermione when she woke, but the longer he remained, the more certain he became that no such thing would take place.
Eventually, he rose quietly, hoping not to disturb them. Snape glanced up at him, frowning at his movement. Sirius held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
'I'll leave you to it,' he said softly, squeezing Snape's shoulder before walking out.
The Potions Master stared after him, aware that the air between them had finally been cleared, after twenty years of distrust. Hermione stirred slightly, her grip on his hand relaxing as she rolled over. Gently he removed his hand, standing and slipping to the door.
'Where are you going?'
He stopped, looking back at the bed, where Hermione was gazing at him with fearful eyes. He sighed softly.
'I was going to leave you in peace.'
She sat up, her hair falling about her shoulders.
'Don't leave me,' she pleaded, her breathing hitching in a way that suggested tears were not far away.
Snape smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his stern features, and returned to her side. Hermione captured his hands in hers, looking into his eyes with all the love in her heart. His breath caught in his throat as she wrapped her arms about his neck, pulling him into a close embrace. He hesitated for a moment before slipping his arms around her waist, revelling in the feel of her body pressed against his. She pulled back, laying her forehead against his.
'Stay with me,' she breathed, once again caught up by the glittering emotion in his black eyes.
He gazed at her, sensing that something had changed. His heart was hammering in his chest as he leant closer, laying her gently back on the bed. His hand sought hers and held it, the soft pressure of his slender fingers calming her more than flowery words or gestures. She smiled sleepily, pushing aside the events of the evening, happy to be lying here with Snape beside her. Slowly her eyes drifted shut, and she sighed, falling deeply asleep.
Snape gazed at her, feeling his chest tighten as she pulled his hand closer, laying it on her cheek. She was so vulnerable and innocent, even after all she had been through. He didn't deserve her, he reminded himself. She should never have to deal with the taint on his soul. Decided, he returned his gaze to contemplating her peaceful face and felt his expression soften once more. Stay with me, she had said.
Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he leant forward until his mouth was by her ear.
'For as long as you need me,' he promised, and kissed her cheek softly.
Hermione stirred, a contented smile curving her lips, as though she had heard him. Snape sighed. He knew he had to let her go, but he didn't know what he would do without her.
*~*~*
The winter sunlight shone bright and cold through the casement, illuminating the pillow on which Hermione's head rested. She groaned, grimacing against the light, and rolled over to find herself confronted by a grinning face. She sat bolt upright with a little shriek, scrambling backwards on the bed with a scowl firmly in place on her features.
Ron laughed, standing up from where he'd been kneeling by the bed. Hermione punched his arm, half-serious.
'What are you trying to do, give me a heart-attack?' she demanded, cinnamon eyes blazing.
All she got in reply was an impish grin as her friend threw himself onto the bed beside her, ruffling Crookshanks' fur. The ginger cat drew in his claws and caught the intruder a tidy thump about the shoulder. Ron yelped, rubbing the sore spot with self-pitying frown. Hermione laughed.
'Don't look at me for sympathy,' she warned as he turned puppy-dog eyes on her. 'What are you doing here? And how did you get in?'
Ron sighed, gazing happily up at the ceiling.
'Ah, house-elves,' he breathed, 'wonderful creatures, aren't they?'
Hermione's eyebrow rose sardonically.
'Ron,' she said quietly, her tone dangerous.
Ron glanced at her, and bounced about on the mattress until he was face to face with his best friend. Twisting a lock of chestnut hair between his fingers, he leant forward conspiratorially and whispered,
'Can you keep a secret?'
Fighting back an amused smile, Hermione nodded, intrigued by his amazingly good spirits.
'I've been offered a place as an Auror.'
Hermione gasped, extremely pleased for him. As she moved to embrace him, Ron held up a hand.
'That's not all,' he told her, a genuine grin of sincere pleasure plastered across his freckled face. 'Parvati's agreed to marry me.'
The next thing he knew was that Hermione's arms were around his neck, and she was squealing with happiness for him. He wrapped his arms about her, glad that the news hadn't brought up bad memories. He knew for a fact - because he'd been the other half of the conversation - that Harry had planned on asking Hermione to marry him when she was settled in a safe house. Still, she didn't know, and ignorance couldn't hurt her.
'When is the wedding?' she asked, eyes glowing with joy for her friends.
Ron grinned.
'Easter, sometime,' he told her, stroking her hair. 'Parvati wants you to help her pick out her gown.'
Hermione looked astonished, but pleased, agreeing instantly to assist her old Housemate. Ron nodded to himself, seeing the glow on her cheeks that had disappeared for months over the last year. Now she was settled again, and in love, she was slowly coming back to herself. He prodded her stomach playfully.
'How's the grand seduction coming?'
Hermione groaned and hit him with a pillow.
'Do you have to call it that?'
He chuckled, grabbing the pillow from her grasp as she raised it again.
'Still just friends, then?'
She sagged, grinning at his mockingly sympathetic gaze.
'Yes, but I'm working on it,' she assured him.
'Oh, that reminds me,' Ron said suddenly. 'Can't think why, but there you go. Mum wants to know if you'll come and spend Christmas with us. Even Laura's been talked into it, and you're the only one who can keep Percy from driving us all insane, 'Mione.'
Hermione gave him a calculating look.
She had planned on spending Christmas with Snape, trying to force him to admit his feelings. But now she thought about it, they were both chafing under the amount of time they were spending together. So a little time apart might help her cause a great deal. She nodded, yelping in surprise when Ron lifted her off the bed and swung her about.
'That's brilliant! I'll meet you off the Express, and you can fill me in on all the sordid details!'
Laughing indignantly, Hermione watched him leave, curling up on her bed to try and recapture the sleep that he had so rudely interrupted. Crookshanks curled up beside her, purring madly. She stroked him gently.
'You'll have to get used to sharing me, Crooks,' she murmured. 'If I get my way, there'll be another man about the house.'
The ginger cat gave her a look as if to say 'I'll believe it when I see it' and yawned, settling his head on her hand. Hermione smiled softly. She would get her way, she was certain of it.
*~*~*
'Merry Christmas!'
Both Ginny and Hermione groaned at the roar that echoed through the house. Ron was up, probably dragging the twins out of bed to go and attack the piles of gifts that were at the foot of their bed.
At the other end of their room, Laura forced herself awake, prodding Parvati with her foot. Contrary to Molly's fears that the dragon-keeper wouldn't get along with the younger girls, Laura had warmed straight to them, sharing confidences that she insisted Charlie didn't even know yet. The four of them had stayed up talking until the early hours, finally drifting to sleep when they couldn't hold it off any longer.
'Come on, girls, wake up,' she encouraged, throwing her pillows at Ginny.
Parvati obliged by doing the same to Hermione, who sighed under the bedclothes and gave up trying to stay asleep, since the world was so obviously against it. She sat up, returning the pillows with pinpoint accuracy, and laughing as Parvati fell backwards off the bed.
Between the three of them, they managed to drag Ginny out of slumber, wrapping her in a dressing gown, and depositing her on the floor in front of her presents. She grumbled all the way, but was soon tearing open her gifts with as much enthusiasm as they were.
Hermione's eye fell on a tiny green and silver wrapped box, hidden beneath the other gifts. Lifting it out, she tried to quell the sudden hammering of her heart as she read the familiar scrawl on the card. Just a simple note, but one she knew must have cost him a lot to write.
~ Merry Christmas, Hermione.~
She knew from the other professors that Snape never got involved in Christmas, refusing gifts and never deigning to send any, and so felt oddly privileged to have made such an impression on him. Carefully opening it, hoping her friends wouldn't notice her shaking hands, she found it contained a single emerald tear-drop, suspended on a silver chain so thin as to be almost invisible. Deep within the gem sparkled a tiny red flame.
Looking over her shoulder, Ginny gasped.
'Great stars, 'Mione, who gave you that? It's beautiful!'
Hermione nodded, dumbstruck, as she fought back a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.
'Severus,' she told them, seeing the utter disbelief on their faces.
She lifted it from the box, feeling her fingers tingle, telling her that it was charmed. Probably against breakage, she decided, and fastened it about her neck, her heart singing with love for the man who had sent it. The emerald hung in the hollow of her throat, sparkling in the sunlight.
*~*~*
Snape walked slowly through the hallways of Hogwarts, trying to fight the desperate feeling of loneliness that welled up inside him. Outside the snow was falling in huge drifts, the wind keeping the students and staff alike inside. Yet another Christmas at Hogwarts. At least there weren't hundreds of children running about under his feet. Most had gone home for the holidays.
His face froze as he thought of who else had gone. Hermione. She'd been invited to the Weasley's for Christmas, and he couldn't begrudge her the chance to spend time with her friends. The two Aurors who had raised her as a Muggle for all this time had left her to her own devices, since she was now old enough to make her own decisions. Still, he was finding it hard not to feel resentful of them.
Without Hermione, they would still have a warm familial festival. She had chosen to leave him alone at one of the loneliest times of the year. He shook himself mentally. He had no right to expect her to remain with him. After all, what warmth had he shown her during her time with him?
Unbidden, images of her working in his workshop rose in his mind. The day she had slipped, and he'd caught her, acutely aware of how close their bodies were. The evenings they'd spent together, trying to find out exactly how her proposed potion for the research would work. Her constant teasing about how he should wear colours other than black. Her smile, her laugh, the gentle caress of her gaze as her cinnamon eyes fixed on his. He sighed softly.
The door to his apartment opened slowly, allowing him passage within. Contrary to popular opinion, Snape didn't ward or password his rooms, knowing the mind of the inquisitive student a little too well. Rather than try the simple unlocking charm, they would research every ward breaker and password generator they could find, completely unable to work out why their attempts had failed.
A faint scent reached his nose, causing his brow to furrow in confusion. Looking around, he noticed to his surprise a box on his desk. It was wrapped up in a silver ribbon, and had a card that bore his name. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the scent. Hermione's shampoo. It always left a sharp sweet smell in the air, no matter how short a time she'd been there. He picked up the box, a smile forming on his pale face.
Opening it like a child on his first Christmas morning, he found it contained a shirt of such deep blue that it was almost black. It smelt of Hermione, sending his imagination into over-drive. Had she worn it? How had she chosen it? Why? As he held the silken material up to the dim light of a nearby candle, a small square of card fell out of its folds.
Retrieving it, he read,
~ Still think I'm only teasing? Next time I see you, you'd better be wearing this. Anyway, have a great Christmas, Severus. Thinking of you,
Hermione. ~
He snorted, the old habit of keeping laughter in check asserting itself. Shaking his head, he re-read the note, his eyes lingering on the last line. Thinking of you. Again, he asked himself, why? Could it be that she was developing feelings for him?
He dismissed the possibility off-hand. She was probably thinking of how lonely he was, how completely Scrooge he'd been about the whole season. But part of him hoped, in the dark depths of his soul, that she meant that she missed him, maybe even loved him. It was a foolish hope, he knew, but one that held a fragile promise of happiness.