Okay, here's the long awaited . . . consummation . . . obviously tamer than otherwise would be, but this is now R rated. I still like it though, hope you do.

Photis.



Chapter 16: Christmas

Hermione woke feeling uncomfortable, having slipped down from her seated position in bed to an approximation of the foetal position. Her neck was stiff, her right hand and arm from the elbow down were numb, and the lingering unease of the nightmare that had awoken her was still constricting her breathing. All in all, the pile of brightly wrapped boxes and parcels adorning the bottom of her bed seemed totally out of place.

Hermione opened them eagerly anyway.

Her parents had excelled themselves once again with book tokens in large amounts and a heavily embroidered, sequined, beaded and overall glittery bed throw, with a label that said Arcadia inside. Hermione recognised the name as being a shop in the nearby town where she had visited every day after school had finished gazing at the bejewelled trinkets and walking through the clouds of burning incense and flickering candles, listening to music that never made it to the radio. The shop where she had dreamed she could escape the sobriety and routine of the life that stretched out ahead of her to the uninspiring horizon, until one day in august a barn owl arrived in her kitchen and gave her a chance of escape. And a reason for all the strange things that happened around her.

Needless to say, she was determined to succeed, because in doing so she could finally be free.

Briefly she wondered if her parents knew she had visited Arcadia - she had never dared buy anything - or whether pure luck and chance had conspired to give her the best gift her parents had managed in many years. Most likely the secretary at the dental practice had been tasked with buying something for her.

A brief though was all she spared them before she turned back to the rest of her presents. Mrs Weasley had sent her a knitted jumper as usual (brown this year) along with iced Christmas cake decorated with holly leaves. There was a Christmas card from Ron, and a cheerfully decorated mirror from Ginny (it didn't talk, so it had been transfigured not bought), and nothing from Harry at all.

Note to self - he has already given you quite enough. To worry about?

Yes, but something to smile about as well, now she knew she wasn't alone in her worries.

Albus Dumbledore had sent her a smallish book entitled 'A Companion to Hogwarts a History: The Things we COULD have Mentioned, but didn't.' A scan of the contents page revealed no mention of House-elves (still) but a handwritten inscription instead:

'This is the information we give only to the most trusted students - Albus Dumbledore.' She supposed that meant there was a message for her to find in the text. For now it seemed a fair exchange for the socks she had sent him.

Sifting her way through other token gifts her house and class mates had sent her more out of duty than real affection, until she uncovered a heavy box that was labelled with her name in Severus's looping script. Opening it, she thought he had given her a pile of small pieces of glass. Then a letter fell out, so in a search for clarity, she opened it up.

Dearest Hermione [it read]

No, it is not a pile of glass! (Just in case you thought I'd gone slightly mad.)

It is a mural, inspired by the stained glass windows and screens the art deco movement you seem to favour produced.

It is enchanted, so that even if you place it on a stone wall, it allows light to shine in when it is day, and moonlight at night. The view it shows has to be programmed in by using photographs, but once that is done, the scene it shows is the actual view you would have were you truly overlooking the place in the photograph at that moment. I am told that you can program in any number of vistas.

It is also like a puzzle, which I know you like, as the pieces arrived in a box, and I do not know how they fit together. There are no instructions, or diagrams, so you'll have to rely on intuition.

But this way, wherever you go, you'll always have real sunlight in your life.

Love,

Severus Snape.

Hugging her knees to her chest, Hermione understood the subtle message in his choice of gift - that she didn't have to give up everything she valued to be with him, and she was welcome to bring her ways and preferences into his life. Repacking the casing, Hermione dressed as hastily as she could, whilst still making sure she chose a flattering outfit and tamed her hair as much as she was able. After applying her makeup - natural, but noticeable - she scooped up the mural and bed throw in her arms, the used the invisibility cloak to cover her and the objects she carried, before beginning the slow walk (due to necessity alone) to the dungeons.

On the way, she thought more about the undertone of the note Severus had sent, and kept coming back to the same conclusion. What she felt for him was love, not gratitude or dependence, but she could not be sure if it could or would last outside the situation and environment she now found herself in. It was all very well to live as though the next three months where her last, but if a new day dawned for her on 22nd March, what then?

She knew that she could live with Severus when they were striving for a common goal, and he with her while she depended on his support, but once that link was removed, would there be anything left?

The crux of the matter, she knew, lay in Severus and whether he decided to live or die. IF he wanted to live, then she was prepared to live with him, and find the answers to her questions. If . . .

But before that she had promises to keep; exams to pass; a baby to give birth to; and evil megalomaniac to overthrow; and most importantly a very big if to overcome. Which thoughts had brought her to his rooms, and saw her setting down her burdens and hanging the silvery cloak behind his door. Severus was sitting in his usual fireside chair, a small leather-bound book on his knee. It felt like returning home.

Remaining standing, Hermione gathered her courage, to ask:

"You got it then?"

"As it was the only one I received, I didn't have much trouble locating your present."

Raising an eyebrow Potions Master Style, Hermione reigned in her curiosity and said nothing.

"And it's wonderful, Hermione. A beautiful gift. Tell me again what I did to deserve you."

In response she gave a small chuckle. "I never did tell you, but I think you ought to know if you haven't figured it out."

She took a step closer, "You believed in me when no-one else seemed to care."

Another step, "You respected me when I couldn't respect myself. And you never judged me, or doubted me, or made me feel guilty, or questioned me."

She was standing right by his side now, "You opened up to me enough to give me the guidance, and the benefit of your experience and company, when I needed it most. And you did that because I needed help, even though you are the most intensely private person I know.

"It's all those things made me fall in love with you. And once you let me in, I found I loved the person you were too."

He was looking up at her amazed as she reached for the book - her diary since the rape in which she had recorded her innermost thoughts, mostly about Severus, which had been her gift to him. Amazement turned to shock as she settled herself on his lap. Touching one finger to her lips she smiled,

"I gave you my diary because I wanted you to understand, what I thought, how I rationalised the emotions you sensed in me."

Then gently, slowly, she removed her finger from his lips and kissed him instead. After a short and innocent kiss she drew back to look in his eyes, aware that his hands were still on the armrests.

"Severus," she murmured softly, "I don't know if I want to marry you, but I'd like to try and find out."

Hesitantly he reached a hand into her hair, and sensing no resistance pulled her back towards him to receive another kiss. Responding to his gentle touches of his tongue against her lip, Hermione opened her mouth and deepened the kiss. As he snaked his other hand around her waist, neatly positioned so as to be innocent and unthreatening, he pulled her body closer to him, but broke of the kiss slightly.

Seizing the opportunity he offered, Hermione slid her tongue into his mouth, caressing gently, tasting peppermint and brandy. The warmth of his body was against hers, and along with his nearness, was an exhilarating sensation. Wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, she abandoned herself to simply feeling, and melted into his embrace.

It was quite a while later that they came up for air, and Severus began trailing small kisses over her forehead and then on, over her temples and down the side of her neck, his hand caressing the small of her back, causing tingles of pure delight to radiate out over her whole body. Suddenly gripped by a passion of frightening intensity, she raised a hand to his face and guided his lips back to hers; longing for him to possess her but not quite daring to make the first move, knowing that he was waiting for her to.

* * *

Thus engaged, they were both nearly late for Christmas lunch. Dashing up the corridors the refrained from touching, or holding hands, but as they walked they were very much together. Approaching the doors to the Great Hall Hermione slowed her pace slightly, so they could enter separately, instead of as a couple. But Severus gently caught her hand and urged her back to his side.

By means of explanation he muttered, "Our absence will have already been noted, and if we enter trying to look separate it will just reinforce the conclusions already being drawn. For all they know we could have been engrossed in work and forgot the time."

"Working on Christmas day?"

"We're classed as geeks, remember? We do strange things like that, and think they're fun." He barely suppressed the sarcasm in his voice, which told her he was bitter on the topic.

"Go in like we've nothing to hide, then?"

"In essence. Personally I'd go for nothing more than usual to hide - but then I've got a Past, they say."

"Oh, give over!" She cried in semi-exasperation, and moved forward, giving his hand a gentle tug before releasing his fingers. Immediately they fell into step.

Side by side, they entered the hall. They were met by Dumbledore's knowing twinkle, McGonagall's disapproving frown, and comical looks of shock on many of the students' faces.

Brazenly ignoring them all, they walked the length of the hall, Hermione settling herself at the prefect's table, and Severus continuing to the high table. Sitting, he gave her what passed as a smile (for a Snape) and then proceeded to ignore everyone for the duration of the meal.

Hermione ate well.

* * *

After the meal Hermione and Severus decided on taking a walk instead of returning to his rooms. The air was clear and crisp, and the lake was frozen over, which was where their journey took them. During the lunch a reflective quiet had settled over Hermione, and Severus had to make several attempts before he could coax the cause out of her.

"Are you regretting what happened?"

"No, it's not that Severus. Please don't think that. I just . . . was wondering why you stay here, I mean, I know Dumbledore has some enchantments on you, but . . ."

"Am I stuck here for life, or did I choose to be here?"

"In a nutshell."

"When I renounced the Death Eaters and Voldemort, I swore that I would do whatever was necessary to destroy Voldemort, or die trying. I wasn't coerced or force into that decision . . . but you know how aurors can get - they rarely actually threaten.

"There was a lot of opposition to my return, and I got so involved in telling people how I wanted to make amends, make things even, I actually believed I could, for a while. Dumbledore argued that the best place for me was teaching at Hogwarts, so that Voldemort would be prepared to overlook any doubts over my loyalty to keep what he thought was an inside source.

"After his first defeat, I stayed at Hogwarts because Dumbledore persuaded me to, and in all honesty I had no desire to make a new life for myself. From your fourth year onwards I have resumed my role as a double agent, and have to see this through.

"If we are successful, then I suppose I will be free. I have no idea what to do with that freedom, though."

"Is that what you're doing this for? For your freedom? For an obligation to Dumbledore? Or for me, because I've set my heart on it?"

"I'm not entirely sure. For you, I suppose. Why the questions?"

"Because I still have a promise to make good on."

For a moment he looked blank, then realisation dawned. Looking intently into her eyes, the pools of darkness dragging her in,

"I would never expect you to fulfil that promise. Not now. It was wrong to ask you in the first instance. And selfish. Surely you know that."

"But do you want to hold me to it?"

He didn't answer for a long time, just turned and looked out across the frozen lake, at the setting sun. His features, like the lake had turned to ice. Hermione did not interrupt, merely watched him contemplate his life. Standing still for so long she began to shiver and pulled her cloak around her. The movement seemed to rouse him.

"We should go inside. I have to get ready to go the Malfoy Christmas Revel. It's not quite a summons from Voldemort, but it's as inescapable."

He held out a hand to her, to draw her back to his side. As she clasped his hand, he whispered, "I don't know."

They walked back to the castle in silence.

* * *

It was one am and Hermione was getting worried. Severus had yet to return.

After he had flooed out of his rooms to the Malfoy mansion, she had remained. Unpacking the mural on the floor, she had tried various combinations of coloured and clear glass until she had an eight foot, arched window. Following the instructions left, she attached each piece to the wall opposite his/her, their, bed with magic. When it was finally complete, she had used both her own and Severus's photo albums to program in the views from every place either of them had been.

Though this had taken a good deal of time, there was no changing the fact that Severus was now an hour later than he said he would be. Her mind was racing with all the things than could have befallen him - each possibility worse than the last. At least he would be able to floo back to the rooms, rather than walk from the gates if he was injured.

And, as if thinking of him had caused him to appear, she heard the roar of flames leaping up in the fireplace, and jumped out of bed. As he stepped from the green flames she hurtled into his arms and grabbed him in a great bear hug. He brought his own arms up to embrace her, but made no attempt to pry her away until she was ready.

Head against his chest she asked, the sound muted by his robes, "Are you hurt?"

"No. It seems at this time of Christmas cheer and goodwill to all men, that only Muggles are tortured in the Malfoy household."

Drawing back, she gazed up at him with infinite sadness in her eyes, and compassion, "Did they all die?"

"Yes."

Rather than answer she just placed her head against his chest once again and held him tighter. When she finally disentangled herself, he excused himself to go and bathe. In scalding water.

Hermione stared at the closed bathroom door, with a mixture of emotions, trying to make her decision. After fifteen minutes, when she was finally sure, and had judged the water would have cooled enough, she removed all of her clothing, used her wand to unlock the door, and entered.

If he was surprised to see the door open, then he was astounded to see her lack of garments. Opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, he succeeded in making incomprehensible noises only, until she climbed into the water with him.

Startled into a response, he said, "What on Earth do you -", which was as far as he got before she kissed him.

Sliding closer she whispered in his ear, "I hope there hasn't been anyone else tonight?"

"No." He croaked out hoarsely.

"Good. I think I'm the jealous type." Was all she said before she silenced him with another kiss, and straddled him. Moaning slightly, she broke away and continued, "And I don't believe that you really want to protest."

Finally giving in to the inevitable, he picked her up and rose fairly gracefully considering from the bath, and carried her to the bedroom. Wet skin pressed against wet skin he began to caress her body, her breasts, with reverence.

Beneath him, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to be carried on waves of pure delight, but before she succumbed to desire entirely, there was one more thing she had to do.

"Severus, stop."

Immediately he removed his hand, and after a moments pause rolled away from her. As he made to get out of the bed she caught his arm.

"Don't go. I want this, but I had to know."

"I see. Did I pass?"

"Of course you did." She gave a gentle tug on his arm. "Where's the favourite place you visited?"

He looked at her for a moment, then followed her gaze to the mural. "Videori Bay of Naples" he directed at it.

Returning to her, they made love under the soft moonlight of a night in Sorrento.