A/N: I really thought I'd gotten away with posting this fic under the radar until my friend, who I'd forgotten has her alerts turned on for when I update, texted me saying "we need to talk about your older man fantasy". Truly mortified, but you guys seem to really like it so I'm BACK with a Christmas fic in September. (Sorry, Beck, I love you).

Despite the bright Christmas decorations which have been strung up and down the narrow dungeon corridors, Severus pulls his cloak further around his body against the lingering chill and strains his eyes in the low, halflight from the burnt down candles.

'Hawksworth. Broadsmoor,' he barks at the two seventh years who are entwined in each other when he turns the corner towards his quarters. They break apart looking mortified at being caught. 'Move along.'

'Sorry, Sir,' they mutter as they head the opposite way back up the corridor and away from him. When he glances up he sees a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the low ceiling where they had been standing and he feels a strange pull in his stomach.

Severus reaches the doors to his chamber and once inside, releases a breath he didn't realise he's been holding.

His private quarters are nothing close to what he's overheard some of his students speculating about. Instead, the Head of Slytherin house resides in an opulent, yet comfortable domicile with a black leather chesterfield in front of the black marble fireplace, thick woollen rugs of dark green, and walls lined with heavily stuffed bookcases. It's cosy enough living quarters with the bedroom in a separate chamber and it's the only place that he's ever really had to call home.

Hanging up his travelling cloak, Severus moves over to the drinks cabinet beside the fireplace, which he lights with one flight of his hand, and pours himself a generous measure of whiskey before dropping down onto the chesterfield with a sigh.

What a strange night.

Sipping his whiskey, Severus drops his head back on the chesterfield, gazing up at the vaulted roof.

Hermione Granger had kissed him. His lips still tingle as if she had burnt him. It still doesn't feel real – there is no way that stunning young woman chose to spend her evening with him before kissing him.

But then again, Severus reminds himself, there was a lot of tequila involved.

She didn't seem drunk.

Severus sits up and takes another deep drink. Enough now – he's old enough to be her father. He taught her when she was eleven, for fuck's sake. The girl has just gone through a clearly stressful breakup after an adolescence which had most certainly left her traumatised.

But it was the closest he'd felt with someone in a long time. And he'd shown her his scar. He cringes internally. She probably felt sorry for him. That must be it.

Another drink. Severus rubs at his temples. It feels like she's lodged herself right in his head.

A feeling of guilt begins to creep over his chest like iced water when he thinks about her expression when he pulled away and just before he apparated back to Hogsmeade. Should he have left her like that? Should he have stayed? He thinks about what Weasley and Potter would have to say if they had caught them together and he shakes his head. That was the last thing he needed.

Severus takes another deep drink. When Granger was pressed up against him with her arms wrapped around his neck as if he was the only man in the world that she wanted, Severus had swiped his tongue along her lower lip and chased the bitter remnants of tequila.

Gods.

She would regret that in the morning, he thinks with a pang of remorse. It felt nice to be so wanted, so desperately, even if it was only for a few short seconds.

The clock chimes midnight and it stirs him from his thoughts. Draining his glass and placing it down on the coffee table, Severus stands and stretches.

Maybe tomorrow he might feel a little less lonely as he gets ready for bed.

…

Hogsmeade during the Christmas Break was Severus' favourite.

Finally, two weeks of being able to browse the stores without having to navigate swarms of students who would move in groups of four or five blocking the narrow aisles and giggling about various paramours. Instead, there were so few students left behind at Hogwarts over the holiday season that he almost didn't notice them enough for it to bother him.

Severus moves through the dark aisles of Tomes and Scrolls in what can only be described as the closest he ever feels to contentment. Outside, the snow billows wildly and after a short perusal of new stock, Severus decides to take refuge in the pub for a few hours.

After battling the strong winds and blinding snow, he enters the glowing interior of the Three Broomsticks and ignores the various groups of wizards and witches who are gathered around their own tables, heading straight to the bar.

'Afternoon, Severus,' Rosmerta smiles at him as she wipes down the counter. 'What can I get for you?'

'Afternoon,' he nods. 'I'll have a Firewhiskey, please.'

'Coming right up.'

She places a bottle of Firewhiskey in front of him and uncaps it with a flick of her wrist.

'Thank you,' Severus says.

'My pleasure,' Rosmerta says. 'What are you doing for Christmas this year?'

He makes a face. 'Same as every year, Rosmerta,' he says. 'I'll be at the castle.'

'Lovely!'

'That's certainly one way to put it.'

She laughs, unfazed. 'Well you must be sure to pop in and see me. I'm sure a few others will be in and it will be nice to have you join us.'

Severus makes a noncommittal hum as he takes a drink of Firewhiskey.

'Severus!'

He turns around at the sound of his name to — fucking hell.

'Potter,' he says coolly before flicking his eyes to Harry's left and with a lump in his throat that he swallows. 'Granger.' She can barely look him in the eye and a flush of pink spreads over her cheeks, almost indistinguishable from her wind-flushed visage, but he knows.

'Hello,' Hermione says quietly before shaking the quickly melting snow out of her hair.

'How are you, Severus?' Potter, ignorant as ever and yet (and Severus hates to admit it) irritatingly well-meaning. He steps in to grasp his hand, pulling him into a one armed hug. 'We missed you at the party for the rest of the night! Where did you head off to?'

'My apologies,' Severus steps out of the embrace. 'I decided to leave before anything else surprising could happen.' Here, Hermione looks like she wants the ground to swallow her up. 'How was the rest of the party?'

'It was great,' Harry grins.

'Glad to hear it.'

Granger shifts her weight to her other foot, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

'Can we join you for a drink?' Harry asks.

Severus lifts his chin slightly. 'Be my guest.'

'Great,' he says. 'Can I get you another?'

'Please.'

'Why don't you two grab a table and I'll bring these over.'

Severus turns to Hermione. 'Shall we?'

'Sure,' she nods.

Together, they weave through the other tables and find a small round table in the window near the fire. They're finally far enough out of earshot that Hermione opens her mouth as they take their seats opposite each other, removing their cloaks and draping them over the back of their respective chairs. She's wringing her hands and he finds himself wishing he could cover them with his own to soothe her.

'Severus—' she says suddenly.

'Don't worry,' he assures her. 'I don't want you to apologise for last night. I did say you'd regret it.'

Hermione blinks and pulls her head back in surprise. 'I wasn't — I don't regret it — do you?'

Severus stares at her. 'What?'

'Oh, I'm so mortified,' she places her hands to her cheeks. 'Of course I was just being a total mess —'

'You weren't,' he says gently. He flicks his eyes over her shoulder to where Rosmerta is fawning over Potter. 'Hermione, it's nothing to worry about.'

She swallows hard and he swears that her eyes flick down to his lips again. She opens her mouth to say something until Harry appears almost out of nowhere, shaking off his own cloak before dropping down in a seat beside her, draping an arm over the back of her chair. Severus bristles internally.

'Rosmerta is bringing our drinks over in a minute,' he says. 'So Severus, what brings you into Hogsmeade?'

He takes a steadying breath. 'Just a slight change of scenery. I think a more appropriate question is why the both of you are here.'

'Hermione is helping me buy a gift for Ginny,' he explains.

'There's a really nice jewellery shop that opened a few years ago,' Hermione explains. 'I thought it would be something nice for her.'

'Yeah,' Harry smiles. 'What would I do without you, Mi?'

'Based on our history, you'd be dead a million times over,' she teases lightly with a smile and he laughs.

Severus watches their easy friendship with a pang in his chest.

'Yeah and Hermione had that meeting with Minerva —'

Hermione suddenly drives her elbow into his ribs.

Severus looks at her. 'What meeting?'

She flushes bright red. Severus can't help being amused — for someone who spent an entire year being hunted down, Granger doesn't half have some blatant tells.

'Nothing,' she mutters.

Harry rubs the back of his head. 'Hey, let me go and find those drinks,' he says and stands up to head back to the bar.

'Meeting?' Severus prompts again.

'Really,' she says. 'It's nothing.'

He raises an eyebrow. 'Granger,' he says. 'I can find anything out.'

She blows air out of her cheeks. 'Fine,' she huffs. 'Minerva — she's asked me to come and teach. At Hogwarts.'

Severus struggles to maintain a placid expression. 'Did she now?'

Hermione nods. She's wringing her hands again.

'And what did you say?'

'I said I'd think about it,' she shrugs. 'It wouldn't be until September. I've got time.'

He nods slowly. 'An excellent choice for a professor,' he says.

'You think so?'

'I watched you drag most of Gryffindor through every essay and exam,' he says with a smile. 'I think you'll be the most suitable candidate for the role.'

Hermione smiles properly. 'Thanks.'

Harry returns with three bottles of Firewhiskey floating behind him which land on the table with more force than necessary. 'There!' He says triumphantly.

Severus and Hermione share a knowing look and both swiftly avert their eyes again, both trying hard to suppress their identical smirks.

'Glad I bumped into you, Severus,' Harry says. Severus raises an eyebrow expectantly. 'What are you doing for Christmas Day?'

Granger's face suddenly drops and she looks down and begins playing with the loose label on her Firewhiskey bottle.

'Why?' He asks.

'I was wondering if you wanted to come for Christmas dinner at Grimmauld Place,' Harry takes a drink. 'We'll all be there.'

Severus hums. 'Will you be there?' He asks Hermione directly. She looks up, seemingly surprised at being asked directly.

'Uh,' she looks uncomfortable and glances at Harry. 'I don't know —'

'You should,' Harry nudges her gently. 'It'll be okay.' There's that easy friendship again. He does really seem to care about her.

Hermione shrugs again. 'We'll see.'

'So how about it, Severus?' Harry breezes over the brief tension. 'Christmas Day?'

'I don't know if it's a good idea, Potter,' he says. 'A dinner is different to a party.'

'Ah but you left the party,' Harry grins. 'So really you owe me this one.'

Hermione is chewing her lower lip. He looks at her. 'How about it, Granger?' He says. 'I'll go if you go.'

Harry looks between them and then stares at Hermione. 'Go on,' he presses. 'You both need somewhere fun to be this Christmas.'

She looks briefly torn before sagging her shoulders. 'Fine,' she says eventually and Harry grins again.

'You can keep each other company,' he says. 'Have a catch up.'

'Are you using Severus' presence to make yourself feel better about Ron?' She asks coolly. Severus tries not to snort into his Firewhiskey.

'No!' Harry turns to her with a frown. 'No — I just mean — I don't want you to be alone and feel like you can't be there. And Severus would be alone at the castle I assume –' he looks desperately at Severus to back him up. He doesn't. 'I just thought it would be nice,' Harry finishes lamely.

Hermione looks at him with pity. 'Alright,' she says. 'If it means that much to you.'

'It does,' Harry squeezes her leg briefly and Severus feels his blood pressure rising. He now turns back to Severus. 'So are you coming then?'

He looks between the two of them. Harry looks expectant and Hermione looks … is that hopeful? Or is she hoping he will say no?

'I don't know,' he says eventually.

'Oh no you don't,' Hermione says tersely. 'If I'm being emotionally blackmailed into attending, so are you.'

Severus takes a deep breath. 'Fine,' he says. 'I'll come.'

'Excellent,' Harry claps his hands together with that triumphant grin. 'I look forward to having you both there.' He picks up his bottle and raises it to the middle of the table. 'Cheers, guys!'

Severus and Hermione both mimic him and their glasses chime together before they all take very, very deep drinks.

Severus flicks his eyes over to Hermione who is already looking at him and something passes between them.

Maybe agreeing to this dinner party was going to be the first in a long list of potential mistakes.