This was going to be her first Christmas without Ron, and Hermione wasn't entirely certain how she was going to cope. It had been a fluke accident, when they had been in London, visiting her parents, and he had been impaled by a falling piece of rebar from a construction site they had all been walking past. It had happened so quickly that she hadn't been able to use magic to protect him. Instead, she and Rose had just watched in horror as Hugo had tried to pull the rod out of his father's chest to no avail. He was gone before they could react, and even though the Muggle paramedics had been so kind when trying to revive Ron, she had known that there was nothing anyone could do to help him.
And now, four months later, she was trying to create a somewhat normal holiday season for her children and the rest of the extended Weasley family. If she was honest with herself, she was quickly getting burnt out with having to take care of all that along with her job at the Ministry. She knew that most women had help to do what she was doing, but she felt like she had to do everything. She didn't want to end up disappointing anyone close to her, since they were all wallowing in the same grief that she was. In order to get some things done without having the children underfoot, Hermione had sent them to Molly and Arthur's for a week, which she had thought was the right idea at the time, but that had just made the house too quiet and allowed her to focus on her near overwhelming grief.
As she was just finishing up wrapping the presents for her family, she heard a magical thumping on the door, and she frowned as she set the roll of tape down and made her way to the front door. Her hand on her wand, Hermione carefully cracked the door open to see who was out there. "Hello? Show yourself! I'll ring 999 if you don't appear!"
She fell silent in order to hear if there was a response, but there was nothing forthcoming. Pulling out her wand, she quietly said "Lumos," allowing the tip to glow as she more fully opened the door, knowing that most people would assume it was a fancy flashlight and not her wand, since magic didn't exist according to Muggles. Looking around the area, she didn't see anyone close by, which raised her suspicions ever higher. Hermione knew that always being on edge like this wasn't good for her health, but with Ron gone, everything had just felt wrong in the house, so she was more cautions overall. A part of her mind fully recognized that that reaction was most likely driven by a lingering PTSD from the War, but she didn't want to acknowledge that fact in that moment. She needed to focus on her family, which was more important.
Sighing deeply, she glanced down at the stoop and saw that there was a package there, wrapped almost hastily in newspaper and duct tape. Frowning deeply, she stuck the butt end of her wand in her hair before crouching down and picking up the package. It was much lighter than she had assumed it would be, which threw off her balance as she stood back up. "Well, this isn't creepy," she muttered as she closed and locked the door once more, bringing the package inside to the dining room. "I suppose that I should open this before I continue wrapping everything else."
Before she set about doing just that, though, she set up a low level shield around the package, just in case there was something in it that might blow up in her face. Still, she took extreme care as she peeled the duct tape off the in strips, bringing with it strips of the newsprint. Once the box was completely unwrapped, she sent the trash floating over to the wastebasket before removing the lid and looking inside. "Well, fuck," she exclaimed with a short breath as she lifted the truly gorgeous book from the box before running a scan on it with her wand to see if there were any active hexes on it. Though there was a thread of Dark magic that ran through the text, there wasn't anything that was dangerous for her. Dropping the shield, she looked for a card or note to tell her who had gifted her with an ancient text on Arithmancy.
There was nothing, though, to indicate the giver, and she frowned as she opened the book, gently flipping through the pages to see what was contained inside. She had never been able to get her hands on a book that interesting in her life, outside some of the more esoteric texts that she had studied while at Hogwarts. This, though, was one of those Holy Grail books, one that had been referenced in many of the texts she had looked at, but had never been able to find. And a part of her wanted to curl up on her sofa and read through the entire book, drinking in all the knowledge that she could glean from its pages over the course of however long it took to read. That was not why she had sent her children to their grandparents, though, so she reluctantly closed the cover and set it aside as she began to wrap the family presents once more.
Finally, though, she was yawning too much to ignore, and she ushed away from the table and rose to her feet, heading upstairs and collapsing on the bed, not bothering to change into pyjamas as she quickly fell asleep, her mind still focused on the book and who might have given it to her. Since she hadn't set her alarm, Hermione found herself waking up late the next morning, the sun already high in the sky as she blinked open her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "All right, time to get up," she said aloud, needing to hear her voice in order to kick herself into gear. There had been too many mornings already where she had just stayed in bed far longer than appropriate, and she knew that she couldn't allow herself to wallow in her grief and self-pity. Molly hadn't been that weak, and she couldn't disappoint her mother in law, not when she needed Hermione to be strong that year. This was two sons now that she had lost to tragic deaths, and she could only imagine how that must feel.
Sighing, she scraped her hair back into a tight ponytail, glad that she had taken the week before Christmas off from work. There was still so much to accomplish before Christmas Day, and Hermione just hoped that she could get everything finished so that her children would have the holiday that they needed after the tragedy. Tripping her way downstairs, she went into the kitchen first, making herself a strong cup of tea before cooking breakfast for herself. As she sat at the kitchen table, Hermione began to go through the previous day's mail, taking care of the few bills that had come in before starting the wrapping once more. As she picked up the book she had chosen for Rose, she couldn't help but stare at the Arithmancy book on the corner of the table, wanting to know who had given her the gift.
"I won't be able to rest until I know more," she muttered as she whipped out her wand and did a few more in depth spells to see what she could learn from them about the origin and sender of the tome. To her surprise, there wasn't a lot that she could glean from it. The most that she could find out was that it had been gifted from a private library in Surrey, and she frowned as she tried to figure out who she knew in that area. There wasn't anyone who came right to mind, so she decided that a quick visit there was in order. Before heading upstairs to shower and change, Hermione set the gifts to wrap themselves, since she didn't want to lose the time while she was gone. Hermione also used another set of spells to festoon the house in all the fripperies that normally accompanied their holiday season, so that would be another task ticked off her checklist.
As she stepped beneath the spray, Hermione thought about how good it felt, only to realise that she hadn't showered since the children had gone to their grandparents. "You're slipping again, Hermione, and you need to take better care for yourself. How will the children survive without you and Ron?" she said to herself as she washed her hair, feeling like she wanted to stay in the shower for hours. That was just as unhealthy as not showering, she knew, so as soon as she was finished with her hair and body, Hermione stepped out of the shower and dried off before dressing and taking care of her hair, shoving it away from her face with a wide headband. Taking a look at her reflection, she noticed that she looked like she had aged a decade in the short time since Ron's death, but she knew that was due to the fact that she was pushing herself so hard.
"Time to head out," she murmured as she pictured where in Surrey she wanted to apparate to, grabbing her book before focusing on that spot and apparating there. Thankfully, there wasn't anyone around when she arrived, and she brushed off invisible dust from her skirt before surreptitiously pulling out her wand and setting a location spell on the book, using it as a guide to lead her to the giver. It didn't take her long to reach a seedier section of town, and she kept her guard up as she continued to allow the book to lead her to her destination.
Finally, she reached a dilapidated house and approached it, noticing immediately that it was under a glamour spell, as once she had made her way to the stoop, it took on a more reputable air. Drawing in a deep breath, Hermione lifted her hand and knocked three times in rapid succession. It didn't take long to hear footsteps approach her, and there was a familiarity to the cadence that she couldn't place. That vague familiarity set her on edge, since that could be a bad sign, and she slipped her hand down to grab hold of her wand, ready to use it if she had to.
It was only when the door opened that she felt the blood drain from her face and knew that she had had good reason to be uneasy. "How?" they asked in unison, and she shook her head as she pushed her way into the house, knowing that she needed to get out of the public eye, as she didn't want to create a scene that would draw unnecessary attention to them.
"You're supposed to be dead."
"I am, to everyone that matters. Minerva arranged it so that I could die to that world, and live the quiet life of a Muggle." He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at her. "How did you find me?"
"I used a location spell on the book. I wanted to know who had sent me something so suited to my niche interests. I've been looking for a copy of this book for ages, and when it shows up on my doorstep with no card or indication of who gave it me, I get a little testy. Especially after losing Ron earlier this year."
To her shock, she began to cry a little and Severus reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder, awkwardly giving her as much comfort as he could. Before she could stop herself, Hermione launched herself into his space, wrapping her arms around his body as she broke down into full on sobs. Though he didn't really reciprocate the embrace, he still patted her back softly, again trying to comfort her, which made her feel worse. "That was the reason I sent the book to you. I wanted you to have something good this holiday season, as I know that the first Christmas following a personal tragedy is especially difficult. Now, I have to ask you something?"
"Keep your existence a closely guarded secret? That I can do, especially since I am the Minister of Magic," she said once she had managed to get her emotions under control. "Thank you, Severus. This is probably my brightest moment this Christmas season. But…"
"Yes?" he asked as he stepped away from her in order to stare into her face, a flat expression on his features.
"I would like to occasionally talk with you. I want to know more about why Harry always says that you're the bravest man he knew. And perhaps go over some of what's in this book. Even with all the study I've done into Arithmancy, I know there are things contained in here that I do not know. And since this book was in your personal collection, there also stands a good chance that you'll be able to source or have access to others books that I need. And I do need this research, Severus."
"I had thought of that when I delivered the book. You need something to focus you, just as I had the Order to focus me after Lily was murdered. If you lack a purpose, you'll fade away from the world. Albus understood that in me, and though it might be highly presumptuous, I believe that I understand that about you."
She nodded as she stroked the book in her hands. "I believe that you may be right, yes. I probably won't contact you again until into the new year, but be prepared for my questions sometime in January."
"I would expect nothing less of you, Hermione."
She gave him a small nod of agreement before drawing in a deep breath. "My answers came much quicker than anticipated, so I suppose that means I have to return home now, since I don't want to disturb you further. Happy Christmas, Severus."
"Happy Christmas, Hermione." She gave him a tired smile as she nodded, beginning to think of home and everything that awaited her there as she apparated away. Somehow, with one small gift, Severus had managed to see her and her sorrow and find a way to pull her out of that, even for only a moment, and she would be forever grateful to him for that. And that was what Christmas was about, bringing joy and peace to troubled souls in the hour they most needed it. Perhaps her holiday wouldn't be so blue after all.