December 1999

By early December, both students and faculty were ready for winter break, and even the cavernous halls of Hogwarts had begun to feel stifling. Classes and assignments seemed like an endless torment, though whether professors or students had it worse was up for debate. In addition to the cabin fever that was settling over the school in a suffocating blanket, conflict between Slytherin and the other houses had only escalated. It seemed like Hermione spent every spare moment out of class breaking up fights, and every moment of the evenings had been dedicated to overseeing punishments.

"If they keep this up," she exclaimed to Remus over breakfast one morning, "I'll run out of time to oversee their detentions!"

He nodded morosely in agreement.

Now more than ever, she was in awe of both Minerva and Severus' time management. Minerva was as efficient in the position of headmistress as she had been in her previous roles, and Severus seemed as zealous for assigning detentions as he had always been. Time appeared to be an inconsequential barrier as she knew that in addition to teaching Potions and Healing Magic he was also working on a personal research project. Not that he was willing to share any details.

Once, she saw his notebook that he used while brewing. It was full of the same cramped, heavily slanted handwriting that she had seen in the textbook Harry had brought with him everywhere during sixth year, however Severus had acquired a note taking habit that he had not had as a teenager. In the quick glance Hermione had taken, she realized that all of his notes were in Latin. Hermione fancied herself somewhat of a polyglot and could easily piece together sentence fragments or recognize famous quotes in the ancient language, but these notes were beyond the scope of her understanding, which was almost certainly Severus' intention in the first place.

Sometimes, when Hermione managed to find the time, she joined Severus in the lab to assist in whatever potions Poppy currently had in short supply. He never seemed particularly grateful for her company, but neither did he tell her to get lost. She counted that an achievement.

To add to the busyness of December, Hagrid's birthday fell on the Monday of the second week. Hermione joined Harry and Ron in his hut for dinner. It had taken some effort, but they had fortunately managed to convince Hagrid that there was no reason for him to cook on his own birthday. Instead, Harry and Ron brought a heaping basket full of warm food, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione was grateful to finally have a chance to catch up with both Harry and Ron, as she had not seen either of them in nearly a month. The hut's coziness reminded her of the trips the three of them had taken to visit Hagrid as students. Surprisingly, Hermione had seen Hagrid more as a student than she did now. She had assumed that as a member of the staff, she would see Hagrid frequently, but in fact it was rare that they saw each other at all, and rarer still that they both had a moment to talk.

Despite the amazing food Mrs. Weasley had made, Hagrid had apparently felt obligated to make something. He slipped some rock cakes into their hands as they bid him a goodnight, which they fed to the Giant Squid as they passed the Great Lake.

The following weekend was the last Hogsmeade trip of the year. Many students were anxiously rushing around the town with lists clutched firmly in hand. A thin coating of snow covered the ground with half-hearted flurries occasionally depositing more flakes. Hermione was also among the desperate holiday shoppers. A majority of her shopping had been completed earlier in the month, but there were still several people left on her list.

Her primary objective was to find gifts for her colleagues. She still had not selected anything for most of them, although she was most worried about what she could find for Minerva. Everything that she thought of seemed too childish, presumptive, or out of character.

She flitted from shop to shop before finally stopping at Quality Quidditch Supplies. It was a small branch, certainly more compact than its headquarters in Diagon Alley. She wandered around, not really sure what she was looking for. Ginny, Harry, and Ron were the people who immediately came to mind, but she had already completed her shopping for all three of them. All the same, Hermione drifted over to the brooms, skimming her hand over a walnut handle.

"Contemplating your escape?" A familiar voice asked. Hermione snatched her hand away and turned to face Severus. He was bundled against the cold, although the overlapping layers of black only added to the notorious batlike ensemble. Tiny snowflakes were still stuck to his hair and clothes, and they quickly transformed to tiny beads of water in the warm shop.

"If I was, it wouldn't be on a broom," she said, moving away from the display wall.

"I suppose it would not be the first vehicle of escape for someone with acrophobia," he said, nodding as though he had suspected as much. His unusually agreeable tone only added insult to injury.

"I do not have acrophobia," Hermione objected.

"Hmm, I must have been mistaken. I suppose I confused you with another bushy haired know-it-all who pales at even the mention of flying or heights."

She felt her cheeks flush, more out of irritation than embarrassment. "I suppose you must have," she said defiantly. "Although I should point out that the fear of flying is aviophobia."

His black eyes glittered, and Hermione was hit with the belated realization that he, Severus Snape, was teasing her. The lack of acerbity in his quiet voice rendered her fascinated.

"Add whichever prefix you prefer, Granger," he said with a lazy shrug.

"Hermione," she corrected almost reflexively.

Sensing an acrimonious response coming, she continued on before he could reply.

"It just seems odd, doesn't it? Considering our newfound relationship, I mean," Hermione said, launching into the speech she had prepared for this very situation. She had been waiting for over a week to bring this up, and frankly, patience wasn't her strongest virtue.

"And what 'newfound relationship' would that be, Granger?" The emphasis on her last name had been no accident.

"Well, us being colleagues and friends, of course," Hermione said with a surety that she did not feel. She personally congratulated herself for not stumbling over the word "friends." It was a surprisingly difficult word to attach to someone who looked like he would turn and run at any moment.

Severus, to his credit, had not yet fled, but his face had puckered as though he were sucking on a rather sour lemon.

"Friends," he repeated. It wasn't a question, although it didn't seem to be an endorsement either.

"What else would you call someone you see in your spare time?" Hermione asked.

"A nuisance," Severus replied flatly.

Hermione huffed, both for his response and the speed in which he delivered it. "Perhaps my wording was imprecise: How would you refer to someone with whom you spend a significant amount of time with resulting in both parties mutual enjoyment?"

Severus thought for a moment, his long fingers tapping absently against the side of a nearby shelf.

"A pipedream," he said finally, and, as though realizing that this was perhaps more consequential than intended, he seamlessly continued on in a more facetious tone, "Irregardless, I don't see why it much matters what I call you. I suppose you would respond all the same."

"It matters," she said, pointedly ignoring the last remark, "Because it is what marks us in relation to each other and as individuals. What you call me is a reference to me, as well as your connection to me. I call you Severus because it is your name, and as your friend, it is my privilege to call you by it."

"It's a privilege that you share with an assortment of others," he reminded her. "Not all of whom you would want to associate with."

"Perhaps not," Hermione agreed. "Although I'm sure I've associated with them all in any case."

His eyes narrowed almost infinitesimally, giving him a calculating look that made what he said next all the more surprising.

"I'll tell you what, Granger. In the spirit of Christmas-" he spat the word out like an insult- "I'll make you a bet. The next Quidditch match is in February. Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin. If Slytherin loses, I will refer to you by your given name until the succeeding match. Do you agree to these terms?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the seriousness with which he proposed the idea.

"Agreed," she said, holding out her hand. He grasped it without breaking eye contact with her. She had not taken her gloves off when she entered, but she could still feel the coolness of his palm through the knitted fabric.

"We'll see in February then," he said, releasing her hand.

"I suppose so," she said, unable to stop a smile from playing at her lips. Leave it to Severus to be the one to truly bring her into the arms of the faculty's longstanding betting tradition. "Are you Christmas shopping as well?"

In lieu of a response, he held up a brown paper bag with the emblem of the local bookshop that Hermione had been in only a few minutes earlier herself.

"Well you seem to be having better luck than myself," she commented. "I've been walking around for over an hour, and I still have several people left to shop for."

"Don't bother finding the perfect gifts for every member of the staff," Severus said. "I'll tell you now that everyone just gets each other candles and socks." In that moment, it struck her that Severus likely planned on spending his Christmas at Hogwarts as he usually did. It was a gloomy thought. Not really because Hogwarts was an awful place to spend Christmas, Merlin knows that she had spent her fair share at the school, but because it meant that he did not have anywhere else to go.

Severus must have caught the look of pity on her face, because he withdrew slightly. His goodbye was clipped and cold, lacking the lazy barbs of his speech only moments before.

After the odd encounter with Severus, Hermione had all but given up hope that she would find something befitting someone like Minerva. On her way towards the exit, she passed by a memorabilia display. One item in particular caught her eye, a outdated quaffle with the signature of a player the '53 Holyhead Harpies team.

Gwendolyn Morgan's signature sat dead in the center of the ball, large and loopy. 1953 was a long time ago. Her parents hadn't even met at that point. Most of the professors she had as a girl probably hadn't even graduated themselves yet.

In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, Minerva herself would have still be a student and an avid Quidditch player. Everyone knew of Minerva's burning desire to see Gryffindor crush Slytherin during every match, but Hermione knew that her passion with Quidditch also extended to professional teams as well. She cocked her head she considered the battered quaffle. It looked like she might have managed to find the headmistress a proper gift after all.

As Hermione exited the shop with the carefully wrapped quaffle, she could see Severus trudging back to Hogwarts. At such a distance he appeared as nothing more than a dark smudge in all of the white. Seeing Severus confronted her with her next dilemma: what she could possibly get him. Her brief scan over his bookshelves convinced her that there was nothing of note that she could find that he did not already have. His potions store was well stocked. He had no vices of which she was aware. All the same, she needed to get him something. The idea of choosing a generic gift made her nose crinkle. He would be most pleased with something useful. She just needed to figure out what would be.

The next morning, Hermione was still thinking of impending Christmas purchases as she got ready for breakfast. She was so focused on her thoughts that when she opened her door, she did not notice that Lavender was standing in her doorway until she nearly ran into her.

"Oh!" She said at the same time Lavender bit out "Sorry. I didn't realize you still barreled through doorways."

Hermione sighed. "Good morning, Lavender. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, do you have any extra Everlasting Ink? I'm all out." She held up an empty purple inkwell as though to prove herself. All of the staff used Everlasting Ink to ensure that students would not manipulate their grades.

"I actually think I do," Hermione beckoned Lavender to follow her into the room. "Although I can't promise it'll be an appealing color."

Lavender entered and crossed her arms while she waited for Hermione to locate the ink. She looked tired, eyes bloodshot and rimmed by dark circles. The scars on her face looked raised and puffy. She caught Hermione looking at her and glared. Hermione quickly returned her attention to her search. As Hermione believed in keeping a tidy desk, it took only a few seconds to find it hidden at the back of a drawer. Sure enough, it did look rather revolting.

"You weren't joking. It looks like if puce married barf. Merlin's beard, Hermione, why on earth would you even own that?" Leave it to Lavender to creatively insult even the color of the ink. It would be only a matter of time before she moved her attention to the room's decor.

"I'm pretty sure it was a gag gift," Hermione said brightly, hoping to get Lavender out of her room before that happened. "But you never know when you might run out of ink, right?"

"I suppose not," Lavender said, although she still eyed the jar skeptically.

Hermione gritted her teeth. It's not like she was forcing Lavender to take it. Lavender had been the one to ask for it, and as they say, beggars can't be choosers. In the spirit of the holidays, Hermione refrained from saying any of this and instead asked, "Do you have any plans for the holidays?"

Lavender grimaced. The tight set of her mouth drew more attention to scars on her face. "Not really, no. I'll be staying here."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, I'm sure it will be wonderful. Hogwarts is beautiful on Christmas."

"Oh, I'm sure," Lavender said, nodding emphatically. Her crossed arms belied any attempt at optimism she might have been aiming for.

What is her problem?

"Well, here you are," Hermione said, holding out the inkwell. "Good luck with your grading." She made sure to make eye contact, focusing on Lavender's blue eyes instead of her scared face.

"Why do you do that?" Lavender asked sharply, not reaching for the ink.

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, drawing back.

"Try so hard. Acting like everything is okay."

"What?" Hermione repeated dumbly, setting the ink back on her desk.

Lavender's eyes filled with tears. "Why do you act like I look normal?"

Lavender's eyes filled with tears, "You act like everything's okay, like I'm not a freak, but you give me the same worried little looks like everyone else. Only it's worse, because you won't do it to my face. You pretend like I'm… I'm normal."

"Lavender, you are normal." Hermione said slowly. "You fought a war. Plenty of us have scars. Yours are okay- you are okay." She felt as though she was balanced on a precipice, although she had no idea what she might be about to fall into.

"NO, I'M NOT!" Lavender cried. "What about this," she pointed to her face, "looks okay?" She jerked at the high collar she had taken a habit of wearing. The buttons flew off, revealing Lavender's neck for the first time since she had been attacked.

"Does this look normal to you?"

Hermione gasped. The skin hardly looked like flesh. White scar tissue was mottled red along ridges where the collar had scratched against it. While the tissue was whole, it wasn't a stretch to imagine an animal ripping into the young woman's throat and shredding it to pieces.

"Oh, Lavender," Hermione whispered. She was no stranger to scars, even cruel, ugly ones that never faded. Bellatrix's mudblood still pained her at times, especially after nightmares, and both Bill and Remus bore Greyback's mark on their faces. But these scars attested to a viciousness that was staggering to witness.

Lavender stood there, sobbing and exposed. In that moment, the emotionless, severe persona that she had implemented splintered, and for the first time since sixth year, Hermione saw the Lavender she remembered.

"My parents won't acknowledge me, my best friend is dead, and I'm ugly. Me, Hermione. How could all of this happen to me?"

Hermione was at a loss for what to say. She had been through the same war as Lavender, but that hardly meant she was fit to help someone she barely understood even prior to the psyche shattering events of the fight. Hermione reached for her former roommate. "Lavender, calm down. Take a moment to calm down."

Lavender began to wail. "N-no one is ever g-going to love me again."

"Stop it," Hermione insisted.

Lavender sank onto the floor, and Hermione joined her, putting a reassuring hand on her back.

"This is nonsense. Lavender, you fought in a war. If people can't respect that, then you don't want them around anyway. Everyone who was there that night knows how brave you were to be there, fighting against Death Eaters, and a werewolf of all things. Anyone would be lucky to know you."

Lavender sniffed, appearing to calm down to think about what Hermione said. "You think so?"

Relieved, Hermione nodded. "I do."

Oddly, Lavender's preoccupation with her appearance was the most reassuring part of the conversation. Hermione had no idea how to comfort someone dealing with the betrayal of their parents and the loss of their best friend, but faced with the alternative, she could listen to Lavender's other insecurities for hours.

Lavender's eyes filled with tears once more. "I know you still think I'm just a stupid, silly girl, Hermione, and maybe I am, but I want to be pretty. I don't want my parents to be awaiting their trials for conspiring with the dark arts- I don't care what they did, I don't want to see my parents in Azkaban. And most of all, I want to be able to talk Parvati whenever I want to."

Lavender was crying again, this time harder. "I want to talk about Divination, and boys, and what we are going to do in the future. I want to do her hair, and watch her pick out my outfit. I want her to be in my life- I want her to be alive-" Lavender's words cut through Hermione. She couldn't even imagine losing Harry or Ron. She didn't know what she would do if something happened to either of them.

"I still haven't visited her grave, you know. I know it's horrendous of me. I haven't once went to visit. I never sent her parents anything. I haven't even bothered to contact Padma." Lavender made a choked sound. "God, Padma. She must hate me for not even saying anything to her. But I just couldn't bear to look at her face."

Hermione held Lavender while she cried. The ink sat forgotten on the desk.

Hermione used it later that day to send a letter to Ron:

Dear Ron,

Everything is wrapping up here. Students are excited for break, and I must say, I am almost as anxious for December 18th as they are! I am so looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the Weasley family at the Burrow. What day is Harry coming? I heard from Ginny that he was planning on staying as well, but he hasn't said anything to me about it, which is rather unlike him.

While the students are a large part of the reason that I am ready for the break, they are not the only reason. In fact, I'm not even sure if they are the main reason. You see, there has been a lot of fighting happening. I'm sure there's more to it than meets the eye, and I just want to know what it is. I miss our old mystery solving days! I'm sure the three of us would have cracked the case by now.

That is not the only thing odd happening. I think that Lavender and I might be becoming friends. She has been having a rather rough year. She's enjoying teaching divination (wooly subject, but to each their own), but the students can be cruel. She plans to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, and I hate to think that she will have to spend another Christmas alone. Remember when we used to stay to spend Christmas with Harry?

I apologize if this letter comes across melancholy. I really am in good spirits, I swear! But you know how I get sometimes. I can't help but worry.

Love,

Hermione

PS- Have you gone Christmas shopping yet? You do know that Christmas is only two weeks away. Don't wait until Christmas Eve again!

For all that Severus wished for a break from teaching, he dreaded the upcoming break more. Most of the students and faculty would be returning home tomorrow to begin the holiday festivities. When Dumbledore was alive, he had always ensured that Severus took part in the holidays to some extent or another. Over the past few years, however, Severus' only acknowledgment of the Christmas season was a slight uptick in the number of drinks he consumed in a week.

Holidays had never been a particularly happy time for him, even as a child. As an adult, they served as merely a reminder that another year was passing and he was still alone. Solitude was neither unfamiliar nor uncomfortable for Severus. All the same, it was a reminder of frightening clarity that there was not a person on the earth that would choose to spend their most precious moments with him. A lonely thought, if nothing else.

There was one difference this year, however. Now he had Athene. His newly christened cat was rapidly gaining weight, although that appeared to be her only area of growth. She still seemed to lack the basic intelligence one might typically see in such an animal. Though he cringed at oblivious nature and how ignorant she was of her own tail, he could not deny that she was rapidly becoming a large source of comfort.

Right then she was sprawled out in front of the fireplace, contentedly grooming her front paws. Severus was in the process of organizing the overflow of papers that inevitably happened after a few months of assignments. He had worked through dinner, and likely would have to continue well past midnight.

A firm brief knock at the door alerted him to potential company. He straightened, set down the stack of papers in his hand and went to the door. Unsurprisingly, it was Granger who stood on the other side, coat in hand, and radiating the clean, brisk smell that came only from an excursion out in the snow.

"I should have known," he said, standing in the doorway. "You have a-"

Granger nodded, "A very loud and distinctive knock. I've been told."

He shot her a look. "-a spot of cranberry sauce on your shirt. Tell me, do you make a habit of using your clothing as a napkin, or is this a recent development?"

She blushed and vanished the stain with a quick wave of her wand. After returning her wand to her pocket, she asked, "May I come in?"

Severus gestured for her to enter. This time, Granger did not immediately go to his bookcases. Instead she plopped herself down on his sofa with the confidence that only Minerva possessed when invading his space, tossing her coat carelessly at one end. She wore a cardigan that he was beginning to recognize as a favorite of hers. It was plain and beige, and he didn't see anything particularly remarkable about it, but then again he had never claimed to be an expert in Granger's taste.

"I just visited Hagrid. I wanted to say goodbye before I leave tomorrow morning," Granger said, settling further into his sofa.

"Holiday plans, I presume," Severus said, sitting down in the armchair facing her.

Granger nodded distractedly. She was glancing around the room as though looking for something. Severus irritably tapped his fingers on his armrest. The noise caused Athene to stir, and she slinked over and hopped into his lap.

"You have a cat!" Granger said, sitting up straighter.

"I do," Severus acquiesced.

The cat sneezed. Twice.

"A cat!" She repeated triumphantly, more to herself than him.

Severus clenched his jaw briefly. Other than Minerva, no one had been introduced to his cat yet, and he felt oddly … protective of her. "You are familiar with them, are you not, Granger? Though that orange beast of yours hardly qualifies."

"Crookshanks is a splendid cat. And you shouldn't say such things about him. He likes you, and I can't say that about most people." Granger said. "What's its name?"

"Athene."

"From Athena," Hermione said in surprise. "Does Minerva know?"

"Not yet," Severus said, "Though I'm sure I'm sure she'll be flattered. The resemblance is uncanny."

Athene sneezed once more.

Hermione gave him a reproachful look. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Athene. I'm glad to see that you've not be put off by your owner's moods."

"Granger," he said warningly.

"Hermione," she corrected. Sensing she was on dangerous ground, she switched topics, addressing him instead of Athene. "Have you completed your Christmas shopping yet?"

"I have. I hadn't a particularly long list."

Granger laughed. "I admire your stringency. I've been shopping for a month and a half and still have a few things left. I know that some people have already passed around presents, but I'm afraid that everyone will have to wait until Christmas day for mine. The house elves have already agreed."

"Do you wish to wait until Christmas you receive yours?"

Her eyes widened. "You got me a present?"

"Don't look so shocked, Granger. I am not so much of a grinch to spoil Christmas for my colleagues."

"But still! You didn't have to."

"Do you want it now or not?" He said stiffly.

She thought for a moment. "Now," she decided. "That way I can thank you person immediately."

Severus almost Summoned the gift out of habit, but at the last second he caught himself. He gently slid Athene off of his lap before retrieving the gift from underneath the stack of papers he had thrown on top.

"Merry Christmas, Granger," he said, handing it over. She immediately began to unwrap it, taking time to avoid ripping the paper unnecessarily. Severus returned to his seat, feeling awkward as he watched her in silence.

He had been shopping in Tomes and Scrolls when he saw Granger standing just a few feet away. She wore the serious expression she always did when reading, eyebrows creased and firmly set. Nothing remarkable, but in that moment he couldn't stop himself from looking. She stood perfectly still as she flipped through the book in her hands. After a few moments, she closed it, turned it over in her hands twice, and returned it to the shelf. When he was sure that she had left, he had walked over and plucked the book back off the shelf.

Severus had always known her to be a voracious reader, but it always seemed to be in the pursuit of knowledge. Granger could be depended on to always be lugging around some giant tome with information on transfiguration, magical law, or any other subject. Muggle textbooks covering topics such as chemistry and physics were not uncommon either. In all this time, the only fictional books he could assume she had read were those written by Gilderoy Lockheart.

So, it was to his surprise that the book that Granger had been examining on moments before was a classic. A fictional Muggle book was certainly not what he had intended to get her, but on a hunch he purchased it anyway. The bookseller had wrapped it for him with a wink.

Granger slid the last of the paper off of the book, giving a soft gasp when she saw the title. "Oh, Severus. How did you know?"

Severus said nothing, unsure of whether this was a positive or negative reaction. This confusion was furthered when Granger began to blink rapidly, a tell tale sign that she was seconds away from waterworks.

"It's one of my favorites. My parents took me to the play as a child, and I was absolutely enamored. Mum used to read it to me before bed, although I was really much too old for bedtime stories at that point. We would both climb into my bed and she would read until I fell asleep..." She trailed off suddenly, aware that she was rambling on about her childhood memories.

For lack of a better response, Severus repeated, "Merry Christmas."

Out of all of the many bewildering things that had happened to Hermione while boarding at Hogwarts, this one certainly stood out. Within the span of thirty minutes last night, she had been discovered that Severus had a cat- named Athene of all things. Severus had not only gifted her a present, but one of the best that she had received in years. To round out the unreal experience, he listened to her talk about her upbringing with he clearly neither asked nor cared about. Looking up, she had was surprised to see that he didn't seem annoyed at all. Instead, his head was cocked slightly, his expression was inscrutable.

Best of all, she had finally realized what she would be gifting Severus. Her surreptitious snooping had likely not be as subtle as she hoped, but it had been a success. A present for both Severus and his cat would be passed along by the house elves.

If this was any indication to what this Christmas would entail, Hermione thought as she closed her trunk, it looks like this will certainly be an interesting year indeed.

The morning of December 18th, Hermione checked her packed bags before she went down to breakfast early. She was sure Molly would try to feed her shortly upon her arrival, but there was so much catching up to do, Hermione wanted to be able to focus on the Weasleys instead of her growling stomach.

There a single table in the Great Hall, terribly dwarfed by the expanse around it. There were a few students who had not left on the Hogwarts Express. Pomona and Poppy, who weren't due to leave until that afternoon, were cheerfully chatting with them. Lavender was also at breakfast, nibbling on a muffin, seeming to be only passively interested in the conversation.

As Hermione sat down, an owl fluttered over to her. Not just any owl, but Errol. There was a quick note from Ron.

Hermione,

If Lavender doesn't have any plans for Christmas, ask her to come to the Burrow. Mum won't mind, and I reckon nobody else will either. I hope she doesn't take it the wrong way. I know I wouldn't want people to feel obligated to invite me anywhere. It's just that nobody should have to spend Christmas alone. That's horrible.

Looking forward to seeing you today. It's sounds like we have a fair bit of catching up to do. Harry's going to be here later today as well.

Ron

Though a short letter, it was certainly one of the longest Ron had ever sent her. Despite Hermione once accusing him of a quite limited emotional range, he really had matured over the past few years. Ron had clearly thought through his invitation for Lavender, even though it was last minute.

Not wanting to accidently gain an audience, Hermione slipped the note into her pocket and waited. When Lavender stood to leave, Hermione bid a quick goodbye and a merry Christmas to the others at the table and followed Lavender out of the Great Hall.

"Lavender! Lavender, wait."

Lavender stopped. "What, Hermione?" Her eyes were slightly puffy as though she had spent a great deal of time crying recently.

"I don't know if you have any plans for Christmas, but I just wanted you to know that you are more than welcome to come to the Burrow with me."

Lavender shook her head, "I don't know-"

"Ron asked," Hermione said quickly. "Ron asked you to come. It's not just me that wants you to be there. If, of course," she added hastily, "You don't have plans."

"Ron asked?" Lavender looked off for a moment. Hermione was sure that Lavender was getting ready to turn her down, but when she turned back to Hermione, she was smiling slightly. "I'll come with you. When are you leaving?"

Hermione had been planning on leaving in the next five minutes, but she knew that would not give Lavender enough time to pack, and thus resigned herself to a later departure.

Despite her qualms, it was not long before they were heading out the front door of Hogwarts, flurries whipping through their hair as they disapparated from the grounds.


Some chapters are like pulling teeth, and this was definitely one of them. Thanks to CMDRHill (JaneGlen) for helping with the extraction. There's some last minute changes, so I apologize for any typos that tired me made. Thanks for reading!