If my To-Do list was the Giant Squid, I would be engulfed in tentacles. That said, this will probably be the last update for a couple of weeks, or until I make sushi wry grin

It took Hermione a full week to match Snape's gift, to find something appropriate for him. Not for lack of ideas - she knew exactly what to give him - but for lack of the gift itself. Finally she acquired a flawless snowflake obsidian; she mulled over the best way to give it to him. Owl was too obvious, and she could not just leave it outside in hope that he would find it. There was no way she could just hand it to him, or could she? She decided that the best way to give it to him would be in person, but under the pretense of picking up her Clear Thinking potion. He had yet to convey to her a convenient time to meet, but she had not inquired as to such, either.

His every thought was focused on her since he sent the quartz via owl. Three days went by - he waited on tenterhooks - before his hope dwindled. She must have forgotten him, he rationalized. Or perhaps she thought the crystal was from someone else. Or perhaps it meant nothing to her and he had been an old fool once again. 'Or maybe Weasley finally wormed his way into her heart,' he scoffed to himself as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Turning the corner, he spat out "Well, speak of the devils!" as he nearly ran headlong into the Dream Team, walking arm in arm: Potter, Weasley, and her .

She smiled up at him, much to the disgust of her companions. "Professor Snape, sir, I was wondering if I could pick up my potion sometime this afternoon?"

"We don't even have Potions today, and you're going to voluntarily see that greasy git?" Ron muttered to himself, but everyone heard anyway. Hermione gracefully stomped on his toe, and Ron glared back in return.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said silkily, "until you can control your mouth, Weasley. And you, Miss Granger, should set a better example for your peers. Another ten from Gryffindor." 'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he thought to himself.

She blinked up at him in confusion. Didn't he realize that she was defending him? Harry cut in with "Make it fast, Hermione. Before my stomach turns."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. Shut it, Potter. Don't flatter yourself into thinking I want to speak to you before breakfast, or ever for that matter. I'll be happy when your sorry face is gone from this school."

Their barbs were too much for Hermione, who was overtired and hungry. Stifling a sob she ran down the hall, her great plans forgotten. Harry and Ron ran after her, leaving Snape aptly alone. He watched the three disappear, a mix of jealousy and anger gnawing at his insides. It was her friends' fault that she was in tears, and they would be the ones who got to comfort her; they'd fill her head with a bunch of bollocks about how he was just a prat, and she should ignore him. Ultimately, he feared that she would listen to them. Going back to his quarters, he dashed off an owl to her, detailing a meeting time.

Miss Granger,

I will be in the classroom at 6:30 pm. If you want your potion, come then.

S.S.

Her door locked, Hermione ignored Ron and Harry's pleas from outside. She let herself cry until Snape's large ebony owl drew her attention to her window. She let him in, and read the short missive before firing back one of her own.

I will be there. Not impressed with this morning's events.

HG

He read it, wondering if she was criticizing him. If she was, she'd hear about it that night. Until then, Snape let his anger simmer.

At 6:25 pm, she knocked on the door. He hurriedly put away the now-dried flowers she had given him last week. "Come in."

"Umm... Professor..."

"Yes. You wanted your potion?" She nodded. "Unfortunately, I believe I Scourgified it with the rest." Her eyes went wide, and he could sense her temper beginning to flare. Damn impudent Gryffindor. He could not tell her that he had tested it on himself. It was too ironic that it had made him realize just what he was beginning to feel for her. "Rest assured, it was fine as always, Miss Granger."

She could sense the sarcasm in his voice, and dropped her eyes. "Fine as always. Just mediocre, I suppose? No better than the rest of the dunderheads." She refused to look at him, though she laughed constrainedly. "I just asked you if I could meet with you. I didn't expect a bloody war to break out!" With that, she tore a small package from her robes, throwing it at him. "I suppose you deserve this now!" With that, she tore out of the room.

"Hermione, wait!" He hoped that using her first name would startle her, make her stop. He didn't want their conversations to be like this. But she did not come back in and he heard her footfalls echo until they slowly died away. Sighing, he unwrapped the small cloth. Snowflake obsidian. If her essence was captured by the stone he gave her, she captured him equally with this. "Match point, love-love," he muttered, thinking of some weird Muggle game. She probably knew how to play, he realized miserably.

That night she tore the quartz from around her neck and vowed to forget her silly schoolgirl crush. For the next month and a half she ate heartily, let Ron hang all over her, and only had trouble focusing on her schoolwork when the moon was outside her window. She and Snape said nothing more than the necessities to each other, and she refused to wonder what he had done with the stone.

The first freeze of the year marked a Hogsmeade trip, the last one before Christmas. The grounds were covered in a blanket of snow and the lake had frozen solidly. Bundled in winter robes, the merry group made their way to the village, impervious to the weather. Snow drifted gently down around them, and they caught each other more than once from slipping in the snow.

Harry and Ron tried to drag her all over creation, but she slunk away from them into a new bookstore that had just opened up. Truthfully, Hermione wanted some time to herself; she knew that the other two had no real interest in literature unless it had to do with Quidditch. She wandered the rows, accumulating a small stack of would-be purchases. Her eyes fell on a row of leather-bound tomes, all several-hundred year old first editions. Famous Witches and Wizards, Magical Properties of Common Muggle Plants, Care of Magical Creatures, The Birth of Quidditch, and Moste Potente Potions. The last one especially caught her eye. She wondered if he owned it. Looking at the price tag, she worried her lip and gingerly slipped the book back onto the shelf. One of these would cost more than an entire year at Hogwarts. But they were first editions! "I would give her wand arm to have these in my collection!" she cried to herself, painfully turning from the shelf.

A dark-cloaked figure kept a close eye on her as she wandered the rows. He smiled to himself when he saw her gush over the ancient tomes, especially the one she held onto the longest. He watched as she paid for her meagre purchases and left the shop, presumably to let Weasley hang all over her again. Or to be swallowed by the snowfall outside, one of the two.

That evening she found it hard to concentrate on her studies, yet again. The sky had cleared up since dinner, and she was restless. A half-full moon hung high in the sky, glinting off the powder-white snow. The whole world was white and the pristine grounds outside beckoned to Hermione. One set of footsteps would not ruin the landscape. She slipped out of the castle without anyone noticing - she was getting far too good at such, she marked - and breathed in the sharp, chill air. The moon reflecting off the snow was bright enough to make her eyes water.

She ran down to the lake, transfiguring her boots into skates. As a child she had loved figure skating. Hermione flew over the glassy surface, making the occasional notch where she attempted a jump. It had been years, but she still remembered the basics. Waltz jump, three turn forward, mohawk backward, then crossover, crossover, glide backward, and toe pick in... She landed a single flip, to the sound of applause. Startled at the intrusion, Hermione suddenly lost her balance and fell backward. She hit her head off the ice with a resounding thunk, and was even more startled to see the worried face of Severus Snape inches from hers.

"What in the name of Merlin were you doing, girl?"

"Practicing for the opera." Hermione couldn't help herself. "What did it look like I was doing?" She sat up, and he wobbled backward.

He bit his lip. "I suppose you were fine up until I startled you. I suppose that's some form of Muggle sport?"

She was shocked that he did not have a snarky reply for her. "Yes. It's called figure skating. A lot of Muggle girls do it."

"I see." He was silent for a few moments, then continued. "You looked... lovely."

Confusion. Didn't he hate her now? "Thanks, I think."

He nodded, transfiguring her skates back into boots. "I hope you don't mind, but this sliding about makes me dreadfully uncomfortable."

She giggled. Merlin, was he happy to hear that sound. "That's alright. I was going to head in soon anyway. I... didn't really expect to see you out here."

"I didn't expect to find you out here either," he half-chided as they moved back into the snow. 'Though I've been keeping an eye out for you, I did want to see you again, when we can be like this.' "I'm sorry for what happened last month, Miss Granger. That whole incident was uncalled for."

"You can call me Hermione if you want," she remarked simply. She was happy enough just to be near him again. Telling herself that she did not care for him was a lie, even if she had quarantined the quartz pendant to the bottom of her trunk.

"Alright... Hermione." They stopped walking at the base of a large tree, out of view of the castle. The massive willow cast stark shadows on the blanketed ground - black silhouettes on virgin white. He paused for a moment before pulling a large package from his robe. "This is for you."

She opened it gingerly, and involuntarily let out a squeal when she saw what was inside. It was the first edition of Moste Potente Potions. "How did you know?" she exclaimed, hugging the book tightly to her chest.

"I had a feeling."

"But this must have cost you a fortune! I don't think I can accept this, sir!" She tried to push the book back into his hands.

He laid his hands on top of hers. "It was a small price to pay to make you happy, when I have made you miserable for so long."

She shook her head. "Still. I saw the price tag!"

"Hermione, please." His eyes bore down into hers, silencing her. "Money is not a concern for me. I want you to have this. Some things are worth more than Galleons, I have come to realize that."

Knowing this was a bout she would not win Hermione backed down. She smiled to herself. "If you insist. And for the record, I'm sorry that I ran out on you like such a chit."

"Apology accepted." He did some quick calculations in his mind. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for not being a stubborn lioness, and for admitting your faults."

'Just when you thought you had the man all figured out,' Hermione grumbled to herself. Tonight, he had taken her emotions for a rollercoaster ride, and she had a feeling he was not through yet.

"And twenty-five for your wonderful artistic display earlier. I believe that takes care of the previous incident?" She could hardly believe it, but Hermione swore she saw a twinkle in Severus Snape's eye. "Also, before I forget, Merry Christmas." He nodded at the book in her hands.

"Thank you. Merry Christmas, Profe-" She was silenced by his finger pressed to her lips.

"Since you have granted me the honour, I will allow you to call me Severus," he corrected. "But only in present company."

She nodded, smiling ear to ear. "Well then, Merry Christmas Severus. You realize I'm going to have to find something to give you now, right?" Without giving him time to respond, she placed the book on a tree stump for safety then flew at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his back. He responded by hugging her back just as tightly.

He weighed his options carefully. It wouldn't do to waste the moonlight tonight. After holding her close for too short a moment, he picked her up and dumped her in a snowbank after silently casting a Disillusionment charm. It wouldn't do for anyone to see him playing, after all. She responded by pelting him with snowballs, then tackling him down into the snow. "How do you like it, Severus?" she giggled as she pressed him into the drift.

"I believe the tables have turned," he smirked as he rolled over, leaving her once again on her back in the snow. Boldly, she responded by kissing the tip of his nose, causing a flush to creep to both their cheeks. "You know, Hermione, I didn't even feel that. Sadly. Perhaps a sign that we should go in for the night, before our extremities freeze?"

Disappointed, she pouted, still underneath him in a snowdrift. He so badly wanted to kiss those extended lips... Instead, he got to his feet and offered his hand to her. She took it, though she wanted to offer warming charms if it meant spending more time with him. But he seemed determined to go inside, so she followed along. Grabbing the book they moved back to the castle, huddled together and fingers entwined. At the main doors, he gently kissed both her palms. "For lost time," he explained. "Sleep well, snow angel. I'll see you soon enough." As they entered, his tone changed. "Bed. Now, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor Snape." She smiled to herself, having finally figured out truth from fiction. And she already had a good idea of what to give him for Christmas.

AN: Snowflake obsidian is the "painful truth" stone, one of directness, transformation, and great power. It also symbolizes a great teacher.
Rose quartz can be used to soften some of its sharper "edges."