Thank you to my lovely beta PirateJinx for all the corrections and ideas. Any mistakes are of my own tweaking

…

Was someone trying to kill Dumbledore? Hermione pulled the extendable ear back to her and quickly hid in the nearest alcove as she heard those dragon hide boots beating a path to the hospital wing door. The doors burst open and Hermione wondered if Professor Snape entered and exited every room in the same extravagant manner as he did his classrooms. She stayed in the alcove longer than she meant to, her mind had escaped her; thinking through every possibility of who would want to kill Dumbledore – there were a lot – but who would be sloppy enough to try to make a student deliver it to him? She couldn't put her finger on who that someone was but Hermione had the feeling Snape and Dumbledore both knew exactly who it was.

…

CHAPTER TWO – THE COLDEST CHRISTMAS

Hermione stormed into her usual abandoned classroom and slammed the door shut behind her hard as she could. She was sick of fighting! Sick of Ronald and his drama! It wasn't her fault Harry had so convincingly 'poured' Felix Felicis into Ron's goblet. She sighed, curling up into the loveseat she had transfigured from a desk. But today even the lake couldn't settle her wild emotions. This was the worst fight they had had in a long time and it resurfaced feelings she had spent months trying to burry. Even though she despised fighting with people, she had become rather skilled at it. In fact, sometimes she could argue her way out of a situation with an unreasonable person. But this was about Ron, his ego, and quidditch; no matter how skilled, she would never be able to win that battle.

And, on top if it all, he had kissed Lavender Brown! Ugh! She hoped whole heartidly that he would learn what a mistake that was. Sharing the prefect's common room with Malfoy, amongst other houses, wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows but she had to admit it was better than some of those Gryffindor girls. Still seething, she tore open her bag and pulled out another damning thing: Slughorn's invitation to his Christmas party. Hermione groaned just looking at it. She had wanted to take Ron, but now that was never going to happen. She was out of time, options, and the will power to go. Unless… suddenly thrilled at the prospect of revenge, Hermione transfigured the desk back into existence and ran up to Gryffindor tower. She peeked in the common room and instantly spotted her target. Luckily, Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen. She slid across the room and settled into the couch, bumping McLaggan with her shoulder.

"Hey, Granger." He smirked in his typical pretty boy fashion.

"Hi, Cormac." She smiled in a flirtatious manner and hoped she wasn't out of practice.

"What can I do for you?" He tossed his arms over the back of the couch, one ready to slip down to Hermione's shoulder at a moment's notice.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with me?"

The arm slipped down encircling her. "I was hoping you would ask."

She hated the grin he gave her, so she stood up quickly with a smile. "I can't wait! I'll be wearing silver." And with that she went back to her prefect's room, certain this would be the ticket to making Ron as mad as he made her.

SHSHSH

By the time the Christmas party rolled around, Hermione already regretted her decision. If possible, she regretted it even more when Cormac met her in the dungeon hallway with a smug look on his face. Pompous arse. She greeted him with a tight-lipped smile and they proceeded to walk arm in arm the rest of the way to the party. Hermione greeted Harry and Luna and was surprised to see Professor Snape lurking in the shadows. The party wasn't awful, but between Slughorn and Cormac, Hermione felt uncomfortable. She spent most of the time dodging Cormac's attempts to get her stuck under the mistletoe. Ducking another attempt, she quickly slipped out of the party and disillusioned herself as she slid behind a suit of armor. She was glad she did so as a moment later Filch came limping down the hallway dragging Malfoy by his ear. As Filch burst into the party, Hermione decided to stay hidden and see what would happen.

Malfoy emerged a moment later, closely followed by Snape who looked a bit more furious than usual. "Sneaking about after hours? Really?"

"What's it to you?" Malfoy hissed.

"Because I made an Unbreakable Vow to protect you!"

Hermione stifled a gasp at the revelation. Keeping a hand clamped over her nose and mouth, she continued to listen.

"Well I didn't ask you to! You just want the glory for yourself."

If Hermione hadn't been hidden practically right next to them, she doubted she would have heard what Snape said next.

"Taking life is not a glory."

"Says you!" Malfoy spat and stormed out of the dungeons.

Hermione held her breath as Snape sighed. She watched as he ran his hands through his black hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Git's going to get me killed." He mumbled. With a broad sweep of his robes, Snape strode out of the dungeons. His billowing robes seemed to beckon to Hermione and she slowly emerged from her alcove, watching Snape disappear around a corner and out of sight.

SHSHSH

"What if we went to the burrow?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I would just rather stay at Hogwarts this year."

Hermione had finally worked up her Gryffindor courage to tell Harry she didn't want to go to Grimmauld place with them… the day before the trains were supposed to leave. She had been surprised by Harry's pleasant reaction to the news, but it didn't change the fact that she felt safer at Hogwarts. Here there was a whole library to preoccupy her mind when staring out over the lake wasn't good enough. Here, no one could really get in, especially not… him.

Harry sighed and gave in. "Alright, we'll owl you on Christmas day, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks for understanding Harry."

Hermione walked down to the platform with them to say goodbye, although Ron was definitely still not speaking to her. Afterwards she walked back up to the castle with a group of Professors and a small handful of students who were also staying behind, and Hermione was relieved not to recognize any of them. She glanced sideways at Snape as they walked, wishing she could outright ask him what side he was on. The group returned to the festively decorated Great Hall in time for lunch. The four house tables and the professor's table had been converted into one round table to promote social interaction within the small group staying behind. Sly as could be, Hermione wedged herself between Snape and a scared looking Hufflepuff under the pretense of making him feel more welcome during his first year there. Much to her frustration, Snape didn't speak one word during the lunch and left early.

She wasn't sure what she expected to hear, but Hermione felt that whoever was leaving her notes, had the need for her to trust him, but she needed to understand the Professor better in order to do that. It wasn't that he necessarily needed to earn her trust (she was really trying to look at it that way for whoever left the notes) but she had learned not to trust so completely in someone she didn't really know. Groaning at her already racing mind, Hermione went to hide in the library.

It must have been hours later, she had missed dinner, when she heard the telltale sounds of dragon hide boots. She tried to keep reading, but she ended up just staring at a spot on the page as she listened.

"Ah, Miss Granger." Snape said uncomfortably which made Hermione jump in her seat.

"Oh! Professor, hello."

"You missed dinner, Miss Granger." He declared in a matter of fact tone as he approached a nearby bookshelf.

"Er, yes, I seemed to have lost track of time."

Professor Snape did not reply but silently looked through the books on the shelf until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a large tome. Hermione watched him, his tall figured angled slightly away from the shelf, just enough that she could see his long hooked nose peering out from his curtain of hair, directed at the book as he rifled through its pages. Seemingly pleased with what he found, Snape sank into a chair at the table and Hermione stared at him wide-eyed, stunned completely. Why didn't he leave? Why was he sitting here with her? Trying not to make it more awkward, Hermione lowered her eyes to her own books, grateful that at least the table between them was somewhat large.

Severus made a quick decision he felt certain he would end up regret. No doubt the ever-curious Gryffindor just a metre from him would accost his research time with endless questions. He inhaled sharply just thinking about it. But really it was the best option. He knew what he was looking for and it would be a colossal waste of time to take this book all the way to the dungeons just to bring it right back up, and no doubt the book worm would still be sitting here, which would no doubt provoke some kind of inquiry from her. But the idea to go to any other table and risk other students finding him was preposterous and, ironically, he would prefer the endless questions of Granger the know-it-all. At least her questions were intelligent.

Hermione felt she was learning a great deal as she watched Professor Snape read through her lashes. His rigid posture changed minutely, she could see the way his shoulders relaxed forward slightly. He held the massive tome open with splayed fingers and would turn the pages pinched between his thumb and middle finger, the action as elegant and precise as those he used on his potions ingredients, or, more recently, as he tapped the magical projector to go through slides or demonstrated spells. At first, he seemed distracted, a sharp intake of breath through his nose, his eyes not moving across the page. But not a second later he was singularly focused on the tome in front of him. His black eyes darting over the page at rapid speed and she felt like she could see the information being absorbed and stored into his brain, never to be forgotten. She probably could have stared at him outright, made ridiculous faces and he wouldn't have even noticed.

She was watching him. Even as Severus collected the information and applied it thoughtfully to his work assumptions in his mind, he could feel the light tingle on the back of his neck that told him when he was being watched. A side effect of his never-ending double life. But when he glanced over, not daring to turn his head, her eyes were downcast. His own eyes narrowed. Severus completed his small reading task and stood abruptly to put the book away, feeling slightly uneasy as his time sharing a table with Granger lengthened.

Hermione looked up to watch Professor Snape leave. He stood and turned quickly in a singular fluid movement, not needing to push himself up off the chair like she sometimes did. He took a few lengthy strides to the bookshelf and slid the tome back into place. His fingertips lingered a fraction of a second on the spines of the books before he took off, his robes flowing out behind him, waving a teasing goodbye to her.

SHSHSH

Hermione played the scene from the library on repeat for the next few days as she spent her free time walking along the edge of the lake. It seemed bazaar that Professor Snape had elected to sit at her table, yet there was nothing about him that was out of character. Even if he was wholly on the side of good, it appeared his reclusive personality was all his own. But she had seen a new layer of focus about him and decided that each movement he made was predetermined and useful. Which made her wonder if he lacked spontaneity.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her own musings as she sat under a tree on the edge of the forest where it expanded nearly to the water. She was certain spontaneity had nothing to do with what side he was on, and that was the point of following him. She watched from her spot as Professor Snape emerged from the boathouse in a small boat propelled by magic. He sat rigidly, in her opinion looking highly uncomfortable from, and even more out of place. She would have giggled if she wasn't trying so hard to watch him. Eventually the boat stopped, far enough into the lake that Hermione quickly transfigured a nearby leaf into a pair of binoculars, briefly wondering why she had not seen a similar instrument in the wizarding world.

Snape raised his wand hand high above him, his wrist at an odd angle in order to point his wand forward and somewhat down. In a dramatic motion he slashed his wand downwards as if to stab something and Hermione saw the ripple of the magic through the water and swore she felt aftershocks in the ground. His magic was powerful, there was no doubt, and he wielded it with a learned comfort and grace. Moments later a creature rose to the surface, a mermaid Hermione realized, and she watched as they appeared to be speaking. Snape held something out in his hand but retracted the offering when the creature reached for it. The mermaid disappeared back into the water and Hermione thought for sure that Professor Snape had failed at whatever he wanted to do, but instead of turning the boat back, he sat stiffly again, waiting. Hermione watched him as he sat perfectly still, his body moving slightly with the motions of the boat.

When the mermaid returned it reached its pale arm out of the water and Snape took whatever it held, then handed it the other object he had kept earlier. With that the creature disappeared into the dark water and the boat began its steady movement to the boathouse. Hermione began her walk back. What had Professor Snape traded something for? It seemed an odd thing to do. Hermione had an idea and raced back to the library and found the book Snape had read three days prior at her table. She glanced through the pages in the approximate area he had been reading and finally found a chapter on rare water plants used in potions. That gave her yet another idea.

On Christmas Eve, Hermione carefully wrapped all the gifts she had bought and cautiously asked a house elf to leave them with the desired recipients. The next morning, she woke at a leisurely time and padded out of her room to the common area in her pajamas. Under the smallish tree in the prefect common room were several piles of gifts, three quite colorful, and one distinctly Slytherin in nature. She noticed the latter was smaller and winced, glad she had contributed to the small pile. Not that Malfoy or Parkinson would ever know. She quickly gathered her gifts around her and opened the ones from her parents first, then Harry, Ron (which surprised her), and then the Weasley's, wondering all the while what Professor Snape's Christmas pile was like.

Severus glared at the ceiling as he woke. He hated Christmas. More than any other holiday. It reminded him too much of his childhood. Something he didn't need – or want – to remember. Sighing heavily, he got up, divested of his flannels and began his ritual of pulling on his trousers, then his socks. He pulled on his white button-down, fastening the front first, then the buttons at his wrists; he tucked the shirt in then reached for his boots. He tugged them on and fastened them deftly, his fingers working quickly with the short patch of laces alongside the outer ankle, fitting his trousers over the ankle and top of each boot. He took a cravat and looped it around his neck, carefully tying it in front of his throat so just a bit of his white collar showed at the top. He pulled his specially tailored frock coat out the closet and put it on, starting the buttons from the bottom up until he reached the one at his throat, where he arranged the collar of the frock coat just so around the cravat. He reached down and adjusted the sleeves, so a thin band of his white shirt peeked out. Finally, his robes; he flung the material about his shoulders, ran a hand through his hair, and paced out of his room to his living area.

It would be easy of course to get dressed with magic, especially with the unholy amount of buttons he wore, but the repeated motion of putting the clothes on and taking them off each day gave him time to process, to take pleasure in small things, it returned him to the present and his sense of self. Which was precisely what he needed today. He was glad to find hot tea on his coffee table as he did each morning; it gave him a sense of normalcy. Although the small tree with a tiny stack of gifts under it was threatening that feeling. Pinching his nose, he sat on his couch and summoned the small pile to him, unwrapping each one as unceremoniously as possible. Two different sets of rather nice vials from Poppy, a pricey kit of stirring implements in different materials and shapes from Minerva, a rather questionable looking set of chocolates from Albus, two very well written potions books from Filius, and an assortment of items from magical creatures such as feathers and claws, which were excellent additions to brewing from Hagrid, which rather surprised him. He had fully prepared himself for more rock cakes again this year.

Severus frowned at the last package, wrapped in unfamiliar paper. No one else ever gave him gifts. He waved his wand a bit over it and found no curses, hexes or any other apparent danger. He learned you could never be too careful. He reached for the parcel cautiously. He unwrapped it, this time the paper falling to the floor with its original shape intact. Severus' eyebrows shot up. The small package contained five vials, each with a label tied around the stopper. But he didn't need to read the label to know what they were. The scale of a giant whipper fish from the Caribbean, the petals of the aquatic cactus flower – found in salt water anywhere but a shy plant with great ways of hiding itself, marrow of a river thorn – a rather disturbing creature he was sure even Pomona Sprout and Hagrid couldn't understand even if they worked together, the eyes of an Ugandan toad – each one had nine, and the fibers of salty perchen root, which was his favorite because, despite what muggles thought, one macroscopic life form did grow in the Dead Sea, and this was it. To be fair it did grow in the soil under the sea.

Rather impressed with the extremely hard to obtain potions ingredients, Severus searched the package for a note or card, and then finally thought to look on the wrapping paper when he found none. On the inside was a small written note and he recognized the handwriting immediately.

Professor,

I got everyone gifts at the castle this year since it's a small group, I hope you enjoy.

Hermione Granger

Severus stared at the inside of the wrapping paper for a long moment. How and where had she gotten these? And had she gotten them because she had known what he had been reading a week ago? Severus suddenly did not feel like going up to the Great Hall for breakfast. Gifts like this deserved thank you's and those were not something Severus Snape was good at giving.