Dislcaimer: I do not own anything and am not making money off of this fan fiction. Thank you so very much to my reviewers, I have to say i have never felt so complimented and accepted. Thanks again.
Chapter Seven: Marry Christmas
The next morning, Hermione and Henry dressed in their finest robes and accompanied Ron to the war memorial. It had been four years since the war ended and yet the people lost in it weren't forgotten. There were many events in history where the people who died for the cause were casually forgotten over time. Great heroes like the four founders of Hogwarts were forever remembered, even if they weren't always upstanding citizens. And the people that died in the War against Voldemort were remembered in a great park in Edinburgh where the trees were forever blooming and the air crisp and cool. This was where Wallace's father was buried. Where Draco Malfoy and Satinus and Solaris Snape were buried. Great people who fought the good fight and lost their lives.
"Grandfather was so kind. I remember him telling me great stories that his grandfather told him like Jiminy Pickle and Pete and the Dragon. I wish he were still here. Grandmother needs him." Hermione hugged her son tightly and smoothed his sweater against his back. She couldn't find anything philosophical to say to comfort her son, so she stuck to the old adage.
"Your grandfather was a great man." Hermione said, trying with all her might to comfort her son the only way she knew how.
"Can we visit the others now?" Henry asked, looking down towards the end of the row where several large white oak trees were planted.
"Yes, we can if you'd like." Hermione kept a tight grip on her son as they walked passed the many people there to visit their relatives and friends. She noticed some people, but many were old friends whom she hadn't kept in contact with since her days as a student. As they came upon the last bit of trees she saw one that she could hardly bear to recognize.
"Did you know him well, Mum?"
"Yes honey, he was a teacher when I was your age. I often came to him with my problems as you do with Professor Fitzsimmons." Hermione searched her abnormally large bag for tissues and wiped her swollen eyes.
"Was he really a half-giant?" Henry asked, imagining how great it would be to know someone who was half-giant. After all, he had heard great stories of the infamous Rubeus Hagrid.
"Of course he was and proud of it too. Hagrid was more than that, dear, he was a great friend and I just can't believe he's gone sometimes." Hermione smiled towards Henry as she caught the eyes of Ron and Harry who had come up beside them.
"Like Dad." Henry whispered, trying not to upset his Mum, but still needing to say the words.
"Yes, like Dad." Hermione hugged Henry tight against her. She needed the familiarity of him; she needed to know that something of her husband was surviving.
"Lets go say hello to Sallie and the boys, okay?" Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Henry walked over to a large group of pine trees and said hello.
"I hope we aren't intruding." Hermione said, shaking Harrison's hand and pulling him into a tight squeeze.
"Of course not, Hermione, we're just reflecting and saying some words." Sallie ruffled Michael's hair before putting her arm slightly around Hermione's shoulders. Henry walked over to Michael and stood beside him, not touching or saying a word.
"Harrison recognized Draco's tree. I thought I was going to pass out." Hermione's eyes scanned the trees before her. Satinus and Solaris Snape's trees were of the darkest hunter she'd ever seen on a fur tree. And Draco's a heavenly white oak so tall and broad that it was hard to imagine it was but four years old. She thought about Sallie's statement and tried to imagine something comforting to reply.
"But that's good, isn't it. I mean that signifies that he understands death and why some people die and why other's must suffer in their absence."
"I just want him to know that he did have a father and that we did love each other. Sometimes I am afraid to move on, to take that next step because Harrison is still so young and may identify with this new man instead of the man who was his father."
"I honestly have that same fear. Mine is a little more complicated because Henry isn't biologically my son."
"I cried so much when Draco was killed I was afraid for my child because that much depression, that much anger cannot be healthy. I wanted so much to love my baby and protect it, but sometimes I just wanted to have Draco back."
"I guess I never realized before the distinct similarities in our situations." Hermione and Sallie stared towards the men as they stood, no one speaking. Hermione wondered if Henry would be ready to go, as she was getting tired and also wanted to be free of prying eyes.
"We should be going, Henry." Hermione said, taking his hand in hers and leading him away slightly.
"I'll see you tomorrow Sallie."
"Yes, tomorrow morning." Sallie and Harrison waved to them, but looked the sadder for their sudden absence.
"If I don't see you before Christmas, Merry Christmas, Michael, Atticus, and Severus." They all returned their merry Christmas and with that Hermione and Henry left the memorial.
"Is Madame Hermione going anywhere for Christmas, Sallie?" Michael asked.
"Didn't Henry tell you, they're staying home for Christmas this year? I don't think it will do either of them well, though, being alone on Christmas." Sallie replied as Hermione and Henry rounded the corner. A thought struck Severus Snape suddenly and with that, they also adjourned to their home.
The following week, Hermione received a rather abrupt and unexpected invitation to a Christmas Eve dinner with Severus and his family. She folded it tightly and put it in her mail drawer, wondering if Henry would mind having a bit more company on Christmas instead of just the two of them. She didn't really think about it again that morning until she heard Henry putting his Quidditch gear on and heading towards Severus's north paddock.
"Henry, dear, would you mind terribly if we attended a dinner with Master Snape and his family on Christmas Eve?" Hermione asked her son, his face already covered in dirt and sweat from working in the house.
"That sounds like it could be interesting."
"I just thought since we don't have Dad this year, it would be worse being alone on Christmas Eve." He patted her hand against the table and smiled.
"I think that would be nice, as long as it's just you and me on Christmas morning. I mean, it would be nice having a less formal thing, I guess."
"Alright then, take this to Severus for me." Hermione penned a quick note and handed it slowly to Henry who seemed more than eager to get to his practice. She watched him walk up the cobblestone and smiled knowing he was enjoying his lessons and becoming greater friends with Michael Snape. Before leaving her house for the hospital, Hermione left Ron a note about her appointment in case he had forgotten, which was normal for him lately. She grabbed her bag soon after and flooed to Osgood's hospital and waited for Healer Eleanor for a general check-up. Healer Eleanor would also be helping her during the delivery of her child and that comforted Hermione because she felt more relaxed with the woman.
"Everything seems to be going fine, although I think you could stand to gain a few more pounds. Sometimes it seems that women gorge themselves and have unhealthy pregnancies because of their weight gain, but you are in perfect health and need those extra pounds for a healthy baby." Healer Eleanor said, helping Hermione sit up from the cold table.
"And you still don't want to know the sex, dearie?" She asked, turning from Hermione as she changed back into her clothes.
"No, not today. Perhaps in three months." The healer nodded her head and handed Hermione her appointment card. The appointments seemed to go smoother as she continued in her pregnancy. The baby's' health was of utmost importance to Hermione and she was determined to produce a healthy and happy baby, no matter what.
"You need to up the does of the potion by two teaspoons until further notice." Hermione nodded, thanked Eleanor and left the hospital as quietly as she'd come.
Severus stared at the three boys flying around their makeshift Quidditch pitch and remembered his own days as a young boy, wanting to fly so freely. His mother had always hated Quidditch and felt that anyone who aspired to be successful in the profession would never have the right recognition for a successful life; in laymen's terms, Severus was never allowed to play Quidditch at home and his parents never encouraged him to play in school, though he did for six years.
"Did you see that, Uncle, Henry scored past me like I was invisible." Severus nodded to his nephew and joined the boys in the air.
"Do you understand what I mean now? You have to work with the other people in your team to attain your ultimate goal which is to score points, but most importantly to make sure the other teams' players are distracted from your own seeker." Severus pointed to Atticus who was actively seeking the snitch and then to Michael who still seemed surprised at Henry's skilful play.
"I cannot stress enough that everyone has a certain job to perform. Your job is to maintain the quaffle and help defend your post whenever possible. Now Michael, I want you to practice passing with Henry until you can pass without looking at each other." Severus flew back down to the ground and watched the boys. He hadn't ever really noticed how long and lean Henry Stuart really was, but then he wasn't his professor and before their move to Hogsmeade, he hadn't paid much attention to Hermione Stuart's family. Before he could will the memories of his younger years, Severus thought of Hermione and her days as his student. At times he wondered if he had really been that cruel to her, and then other times he knew he'd been a down right bastard.
"You have to sense what Michael is doing, Henry, in case you cannot see him clearly." Severus took a seat on the bench next to the pitch, his thoughts now more in the present, remembering her obvious enjoyment of tea with Sallie and him and then the even more obvious despondency of her exit from the last tea. He'd tried to mend that bridge ever sense, yet it seemed every time he opened his mouth, he uttered something completely inappropriate or equally rude. And then, as if to remember why he had gained the reputation he had during his years as a professor, he wondered why he cared about the silly girl at all. She was precocious, arrogant, and ultimately a klutz.
"Don't look at him this time, Henry, look towards Atticus and try to feel what Michael's move is going to be." Henry turned his head away from Michael and watched Atticus fly into the air and then fall gracefully towards the ground. He hoped that his Mum would have a boy; someone he could teach Quidditch to and fly with when he was older.
"Atticus, have you found the snitch yet?" Severus called out to his raven-haired nephew who seemed more content to fly lazily then search for a tiny golden ball.
"Twice, Uncle, perhaps it is broken." Atticus fly softly beside his Uncle and handed the snitch to him, not realizing how truly magnificent his capture was.
"When you were following the snitch, how did you anticipate where it would go?" Severus asked the small boy.
"I watched it fly." Severus let go of the snitch again and watched Atticus take off to it like a bird to its prey. He flew with great speed, his posture could've used some refinement, but his mind was set on his goal and that was the answer to his educational woes. He needed a goal and a direct path to obtaining the goal.
"Good job boys. On Friday we will work on manoeuvres primarily." Henry, Michael, and Atticus all landed beside Severus and waited for further instructions.
"We won't be flying tomorrow, Uncle?" Atticus asked, setting his broom on the ground and scratching his left leg.
"No, tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we won't have time to practice with the dinner." Severus helped Atticus free of his heavy Quidditch cloak and then turned from the boys to return home.
"Wait, Sir, I forgot completely. My Mum asked me to give you this." Henry said trying to catch the man who walked with the stride of two full-grown men.
"Thank you, Mr. Stuart." He replied, his long snake-like fingers wrapping around the letter and placing it in his right breast pocket.
"Until tomorrow, Michael." Henry mock-bowed and turned from his good friend.
"Tomorrow." Michael, Atticus, and Severus walked back to the manor, so foreboding and massive. 'Why would anyone ever need that much room?' Severus had thought as an adolescent returning home from school. Soon after, the space was exactly what he needed when his mother and father chose to deny his existence, but those thoughts were miserable and vague and he needn't be bothered to remember the wretched people. When he found some quiet time, alone in his library, Severus retrieved the letter from his right breast pocket and sat in his chair, a glass of sherry in his free hand.
'Master Severus Snape,
Henry and I would be delighted to join you and your family for Christmas Eve dinner. You wrote that it would be informal, so I am going to ask if I need to supply anything for the dinner or the children. Please let me know as soon as possible and I will gladly comply. Yours, etc.
Hermione J.G. Stuart'
He folded the letter back into its original state and sighed. He hadn't truly expected her to accept his invitation, though he knew through the over heard conversations of his niece Sarah and Ronald Weasley that she didn't have plans or company for Christmas. His hands rested softly over the rough parchment and hoped he wasn't losing his mind. He couldn't help but think of his life at Hogwarts. How he treated the people around him and how unhappy he had been away from Snape Manor. His mind travelled between thoughts of duelling, potions, and Quidditch matches. He remembered the young Hermione and her determination to protect her friends.
The protection of the philosopher's stone, the basilisk, the time turner, the spell work in fourth year, the work at the ministry in fifth year, the papers she published in sixth year, and mostly the work she did for the order when barely eighteen in her last year, his last year. He now remembered clearly why he had been thinking of Hermione Stuart so informally and often, she was lovely and beautiful and intelligent; all the things he could never be. Most of all, the one thing he had secretly strived for all his life was her selflessness. He swallowed the last bit of his sherry and took out parchment. ' She is a six-month pregnant widow who hasn't released the memory of her husband, Severus, you'll just have to forget she exists'. He thought, bitterly. With that, he wrote her promptly that she need only bring herself and Henry, that they were quite capable of providing Christmas dinner. He tied the letter loosely to his owl's leg and watched it fly the mere quarter mile. She didn't need added pressure from someone who tortured her as a youth and who was in all respects the same age as her father. She needed comfort from a family. She needed people to encourage her condition and help her through her emotions. He wanted to let her form her own opinion of him, yet knew that old grudges die hard and with that, he placed her simple letter in his letter box and extinguished the light above the mantle.
"So he's been helping Henry with Quidditch?" Ron asked as Hermione dished out the Sheppard's pie.
"For a little bit, but it's really made a difference. I mean, Henry has always loved Quidditch and has always flown well, yet now he has direction. He is striving to learn and be productive." Ron laughed a bit remembering his former professor refereeing the Quidditch match in third year. He hadn't imagined that Severus Snape was any good at quidditch, apparently he was wrong.
"What are you and Henry doing for Christmas Eve?" Ron swallowed a large bite of his Sheppard's pie and watched as Hermione's face turned a little pink.
"Severus has invited Henry and I to a dinner at the manor."
"That sounds interesting." Ron swallowed a bit more of his wine and wiped the edges of his mouth where food and spirits had collected.
"I made sure Henry was up to it. I mean, without Wallace this year we don't want to stay home. My mother is out of the country and Willet is ill. Harry invited us to his house, but I am trying to keep myself out of that situation." Hermione sighed heavily and drank the last of her milk. She truly hated milk and hoped someday she could explain to her child the real sacrifice she'd made for it.
"Veronica asked to stay with us a couple weeks ago because they were having a row. I can't believe they argue like that in front of her." Ron's voice was full of anger and empathy for the five year old. He loved Veronica greatly and that was apparent to Hermione.
"Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"She asked me at the bookstore and I didn't know how much you knew about the situation, so I told her to floo here if she needs us. I have to admit it has disturbed me more than I thought it would." Ron's eyes met Hermione's with a look she'd never seen before; he was quite miserable. She had seen him after the battle and the anger he now displayed seemed more uncontrollable than it had been.
"Well, let's hope for the best and maybe they can work it out."
"Yes, and perhaps blast-ended skrewts will sprout wings. Honestly, I think they would both be happier if they split permanently. Harry isn't in love with Susan and vice versa."
"I always thought they were so happy. I was so lost in my own world, I suppose I never saw what was really happening." Hermione finished her Sheppard's pie and waited for Ron to form his train of thought. Sometimes he argued with himself on what to say without sounding silly. She noticed that he was using both of his hands with great ease and felt very proud of him; a breakthrough at last.
"I hope, if they do split, that they will do right by Veronica. She needs two parents who can work together, not two parents who hate each other because they were basically forced to marry." Ron brought his hand to his mouth and swallowed hard. "I shouldn't have said that."
"Why were they forced to marry?"
"Do the math. Veronica was born seven and a half months after they were married. It doesn't take a bloody genius."
"I guess I never really thought about it before." Hermione wondered why she hadn't noticed this fact and then realized it was because she was still a newly wed at the time and hadn't really kept in touch with the boys closely.
"Why did they get married if they didn't want to?"
"You know how it is, I mean Susan's family is so diplomatic and involved with the ministry. They couldn't have an un-wed mother in their family so they basically bribed Harry, but he was head over heels for someone completely different." Ron wiped his mouth for the last time and pulled his plate from the table as he floated to the sink.
"And who was that? I mean, I thought he only ever liked Susan." Hermione watched Ron float back to the table and then towards the large French doors leading towards the stairs.
"Are you that blind, Hermione, he was so in love with you. I promised never to tell you, but I have to now that his marriage is so volatile. Please don't say anything to him, but I fear he is sabotaging his marriage because he knows that you are now single." Ron said in a muffled whisper and then floated through the doors to the stairwell and turned only to see her slight nod.
"Okay, Ron, I won't say anything." Hermione thought back to Halloween and her comment about Susan trusting him. He had seemed so jealous when he talked of Snape, but she thought it was merely his vendetta from school, not some hidden love she'd never noticed. She folded her arms in her lap and stared at the empty space where Ron had been wishing she hadn't asked or known of Harry's feelings.
"Mum, I'm home." Henry called as he came through the door.
"I made Sheppard's pie, sweetie, it's in the oven." Henry kissed her cheek and went to the sink to wash his hands.
"I think I'll go lie down. Tomorrow we'll need to find something to give to Master Snape for Christmas."
"Alright. Good night, Mum." With that, Hermione carried herself up the steps and collapsed on her bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
