CHAPTER NINE—Holiday Cheer

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Hermione knelt down to straighten Sev's shirt collar.

"Where are you going?" he asked. Today Hermione took a risk and dressed him in one of his white, button-down shirts and a gray vest Ron had snagged from the professor's bedchambers. Nagini's scars poked out too far for her comfort, so she wrapped him in a scarf.

She found his outfit to be as charming as he was, his sleeves rolled up all business-casual. But she monitored his Dark Mark's concealment and worried it might appear if she stayed in Hogsmeade too long.

"We're going shopping today."

"What for?"

"Christmas presents."

"For who?"

Hermione buttoned his vest. "For all you little ones."

"How do we get you guys presents?"

"We don't need presents," she said with a smile. She stood up to fetch her coat from a chair in the corner. As she turned around, Severus was holding his left forearm up to his eyes. He quickly put his arms behind his back.

Hermione led him to the door. "Are you going to behave for Fleur?"

Sev nodded. Hermione watched him roll down his sleeves. She couldn't blame him, since she kept her own sleeves down.

Rolanda and Pomona ran by; Rolanda scowled over her shoulder.

"And no fighting," she chastised.

Sev frowned up at her.

Hermione leaned over to whisper, "If there's any problems, I'll deal with them when I come back. Okay?"

He nodded.

Luna and Neville put on their scarves and gloves near the door. Lavender wrung out a few more seconds with baby Aurora before putting her in the trundle.

Fleur spoke with a house-elf about delivering a child-friendly breakfast to the common room. Ron crossed the room, a Pumpkin Pastie in his hand.

He paused when he found Septima staring up at him. Roland and Pomona peeked over the couch at the treat in his hand. Minerva stopped mid-yawn when she spotted it.

"Er," Ron said. "Want some?"

Each little girl held out their hands.

Ron caught up with the rest of the group a few minutes later. "Like vultures!" he said to his sister.

"Finally forced to face a gaping stomach not your own?" Ginny ribbed.

"If the girls hadn't eaten it, I would've asked for some," Neville said.

Hermione rammed her hat on top of her head, battling with the static-y mess she called hair. The Scotland wind didn't do her any favours, either. Snow slumped against bushes and stumps, undulated in whip cream patterns. A Thestral knocked powder out of the tallest tree in the Forbidden Forest, clicking his bony mandibles at the smaller skeletons below.

Ron slung his arm around his shivering girlfriend. "We haven't gone on a proper outing since the professors turned into kids."

"I know," Lavender sighed. The blonde snuggled closer into the Keeper's neck.

Ginny made a gagging motion behind her brother's back. Hermione rolled her eyes. We haven't even had them a week!

"What are we going to get all the wee ones?" Luna asked, shielding her eyes from flecks of snow. "Have any ideas?"

"I was hoping inspiration would come to me once we got to town," Hermione replied.

Neville's scarf kept flapping into Ginny's face. "Sorry," he said with an apologetic grin, tucking the scarf into his collar.

"Some of us haven't finished our regular Christmas shopping, yet," Ginny said, rolling her eyes over to Ron.

"The best gifts come from the heart," he said with mock passion. "And my heart hasn't been in it, yet."

"Oh, Ron," Lavender pouted obnoxiously. "I've had your gift picked out for months. You haven't gotten me anything?"

Luna and Hermione traded looks; between them, Neville stuck out his tongue. Everyone tried to cringe away when Lavender's voice increased in butteryness.

"Yours was the first I bought, dear heart."

"And the only," Ginny muttered.

The frosted iron gates grew taller as the students approached. "I think they would all enjoy the special holiday edition of the Quibbler—they come with SpectreSpecs."

"You'll have them combing the trees for Nargles before the day is out," Neville joked.

"I will buy something for the babies!" Lavender interjected, raising her hand. Luna and Hermione had to part to accommodate her exuberance.

Ginny grinned. "I know exactly what to buy Professor Minnie. I will quickly move into the favourite position—sorry, Neville."

"You can try," he retorted.

"Neville bribes her with warm milk every night to make her go to sleep," Hermione snickered.

"Hey, cats like milk," he said with a shrug.

"Septima would like a book of puzzles, I bet." Luna twiddled the radish in her ear as she thought. The group left the grounds and wards of the castle. Hermione clutched her wand inside her coat pocket.

"That leaves Snape to Hermione, and Hooch to me," Ron grumbled.

Ginny slapped her brother's shoulder, in a fierce, reassuring manner.

"'Mione, are you sure you're okay with always looking after Professor Snape?" Ron asked from the back of the queue.

"No one else is going to do it," she replied, almost coldly. All but Luna fidgeted sheepishly.

"It's too bad he's not a different professor, like, I don't know, Professor Lockhart," Lavender said.

Hermione and Ron snorted. "Are you kidding me?" the redhead asked incredulously. "He was nothing but a git!"

"He would have let me die!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Professor Lockhart had a pretty face, but not a single ounce of intelligence in his head," Hermione said as she stumbled over some ice. "He was a charlatan."

Ron nodded with vehemence.

Lavender fell into dull acrimony. "I think Professor Snape might be rubbing off on you."

Hermione certainly tried to channel a Snape-sneer at that remark.

"What's so wrong with that?" Luna asked, scooping up snow in her gloved hand. As she packed it into an oval, she explained, "Professor Snape has been a distinguished teacher and researcher, and a Headmaster—"

"He tortured the students," Lavender interrupted.

"I don't think so," Luna replied without malice. Snowflakes siphoned between her fingers. "That was the Carrows."

"He allowed the Carrows in," Neville mumbled. With Hermione's glare turned to him, he added, "But I do understand that he had to let them be here. And that he actually didn't torture anyone," he said specifically to Lavender.

"'Mione, you weren't here last year," Lavender said with a wave of the hand. "You were out destroying You-Know-Who. We were here, dealing with Snape." Ron's arm shifted over her shoulders. His body pulled as far away from the witch as possible. "If you had been here, you would know what he's like in real life."

Hermione stopped in shin-deep snow. The glare she gave was a brand all her own—a hybrid of indignation and disappointment. The group paused all around her, the Weasley's and Neville bracing themselves. Lavender tried to remain resolute but faltered once Hermione started talking in a low voice.

"None of us know him. And now he's a child—who has nightmares about bleeding to death in a cold, dark shack."

Neville clenched his fists. Luna remained as impassive as usual, but her eyes followed every twitch of Lavender's eyebrows.

"Last night he woke up seven times because he dreamt about his own father beating him. And being branded by Voldemort." Lavender lowered her eyes to the ground; she was one of those people that still didn't like to hear Riddle's name. "So he's an arse as an adult—for now, he's tiny and terrified."

The snow hampered Hermione's dramatic turn, but she trudged through the snow, point made. Luna kept pace with her; Ginny and Neville hung back, to stay in between the two groups. Ron stayed with his girlfriend, holding her hand. The rooftops of Hogsmeade peeked over the horizon in silence.

Hermione rubbed her left forearm. The group was confronted with a singed Three Broomsticks and the bustle of Christmas shoppers.

As Luna drifted past, she said, "I think Severus would like something challenging." The Ravenclaw angled towards the bookstore. Ginny followed, jerking her thumb towards the giant, flashing Quibbler display in the fogged window. She gave 'Mione a grin that would cheer her up while not miffing Lavender.

Lavender walked as fast as she could, chunks of snow splashing over everyone's knees. Ron tried to keep up; when she wasn't looking, he shook his head at 'Mione. The door to Gladrags squealed as he pried it open. The front window had been recently replaced.

She would be the one dragging Ron to Gladrags if she had just stuck it out with him. Instead she stood alone in the snowy street.

"Let's go to Zonko's," Neville said at Hermione's shoulder.

She jumped. "Yes."

"I think I saw something for Pomona in there last time I was here." Neville ripped off his hat. "Blimey, it's like an inferno!"

Hermione unwound her scarf as she looked around. Zonko's smelled like doll hair and cotton stuffing. Parents crammed their robed and hatted bodies into the boiling cedar store. The last time Hogsmeade had been so cheerful was during the Triwizard Tournament.

"So…" Neville started. Hermione flicked a wind chime out of the way. "Are you really alright with watching Snape?"

Hermione drew her hands across plastic broomsticks and fake Hogwarts badges. "I'm more concerned with what he'll do after he's an adult again."

Neville side-stepped behind a group of grandmums. Hermione squeezed past, earning a huff from one wrinkled witch—who then made a double-take. Hermione scurried Neville away, knowing the requests for autographs would drown them. School shopping in August took three times longer than usual and they had no desire to repeat the experience.

"I dunno what to tell you. I'll back you up, though."

Hermione laughed, remembering a time when Neville would stutter the Bat of the Dungeon's name, tremble whenever a Potions essay was due. "That's good to know."

"Here it is." Neville lifted a tiny plastic cup with a fake plant inside from the shelf. "I saw it on the last trip."

"It looks like a ravioli noodle," Hermione deadpanned as she poked it. The pasta plant opened its mouth and revealed a row of blunt, white teeth. She gasped then giggled.

"I think she'll find it funny." The thing started to dance, showing off now that it had an audience.

"Do you think I should get Severus a book?" Shoving their way to the tills was as harrowing as shoving their way through the rows. "Or a toy? If it's a book, he can realistically keep it and use it when he returns to normal—but he's a child now and might be sad if all the other kids get toys. But what would I get him? I've never seen him play with the same thing twice—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Neville handed her the plant to search his pockets for some sickles. "I think whatever you get him will probably be fine, for different reasons. If he tosses it when he's an adult anyway, you could get him a toy to play with for now, after all."

"Oh, and I'm the one that's as sour as Professor Snape?" Hermione drawled as the line shuffled forward.

Neville shrugged. "Last year made me bitter, I suppose."

"You, me, and everyone else."

"Do you want to look for something here? I rather think he would like a book. He's always reading yours."

"What if I get one he already has?" Hermione chewed on her thumbnail. She really should wear gloves, but wool between her fingers made her cringe. "He'll throw away my copy, sneer at me—and I'll be so used to him being small and smiling at me that I'll run away blubbering."

"I doubt he'll throw it away."

Hermione gave him the dubious look learned from Professor McGonagall.

"He'll do some really impressive wand work and set it on fire."

The seriousness of Neville's delivery made Hermione bellow with laughter. Her ruckus went unnoticed in the boisterous throng. "That does seem more likely." The man at the desk stared at her—either because she had tears in her eyes or because she was Harry Potter's right-hand woman.

The man continued to stare as he wrapped Neville's purchase in tissue paper. Hermione patted down her hair as her laughter fizzled out. The cashier held out his hand for Neville's money without looking at him. Neville cleared his throat, hoping to save 'Mione from the freckled wizard's gawk. Every person they passed on their way out recognized them. Some people flung out their hands for a shake and others searched their pockets for a parchment and quill. The pair didn't stop.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, able to talk at a normal volume outside of the store. "You knocked about five fangs out of Nagini's mouth and none of them treat you like—like—"

"A celebrity?"

"A leper," she said as cold winter air swept back their eyelashes. Metallic slush lined Hogsmeade's main street.

"They revere you," Neville reassured.

"No they don't. They revere Harry—they ogle me like I'm an impossible amalgam of brain, hair, and legs."

Neville's face said, You're mad and I'm confused.

"Have you ever seen an article about me in the Prophet that didn't include a mention of my hair or what type of shoes I was wearing?" The two passed the new Daily Prophet field-office—for "education relations" and "reporting on the progress of the post-war education system"—to get to the bookstore.

"To quote Rita Skeeter—'however did you stay so put-together in front of England's two most eligible wizards?' It's detestable."

"I'm glad I don't have to deal with those sorts of things." The bag crinkled in his hand.

"We should ask Mr Lovegood to write an article on all the male heroes and their fashion sense." She swung the door open and let Neville pass, trying to look disgusted at the thought. Hanging just beside the door was the flashing Quibbler sign. Mr Lovegood had been the only one to believe Harry's story after the Triwizard Tournament and now had a lot of fame attached to his magazine. He even had an office building in London now, and a few employees. (The only downside was Rita Skeeter also had some clout, having written the article. Clout she used to be as noxious as before.)

It was no surprise to see Luna thumbing through the most recent edition of her father's magazine. Over the summer, she had penned her first article—on plants poisonous to unicorns migrating to the Forbidden Forest. It was very well thought out, in Hermione's opinion, and thankfully Snorkack free. Beside her, Ginny had a book in each hand, weighing them physically and mentally.

"What have you got there?" Neville asked. This store had a number of patrons, but in a manageable quantity.

"Coloring books." The young witch held them up. "This one is cats—this one is Quidditch. Did you know Professor Minnie was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"No," Luna and Neville replied as Hermione said, "Yes."

"Of course you did," Ginny clowned.

Luna patted the soft-cover book under her arm. "I've picked out a lovely crossword puzzle book for Septima."

"I got a toy for Mona."

"Help me decide what to get Minnie." Ginny shook the books in 'Mione's face.

"Rolanda might get jealous if you get Quidditch," Neville grimaced.

Hermione agreed. "Cats."

Ginny said, "Let's go find crayons," the cat book rolled in her hand.

Luna hefted her stack of magazines from the shelf. 'Mione wondered if Sev would scoff at the articles about aliens abducting Muggles or if he would find it enlightening—what if he believed it as a child, then turned back into a sensible adult and his head exploded?

Hermione grumbled and tried to rub the headache out of her temples. Ginny had to decide what kind of crayons to buy.

"This one."

"That's as big as Minnie's head," Neville said over Hermione's shoulder.

"She'll love it!"

The students received some glares for their outburst. Hermione giggled and tried to apologize, ducking into a row of books with the others.

"What did you get Professor Snape?" Luna asked, scanning Hermione's hands for a package.

"Nothing, yet."

"There were some riddle books over there where I got the puzzles."

After ten minutes, the other Gryffindors were getting antsy. "Come on, 'Mione, pick one already."

Hermione turned her back on Ginny, continuing to dither over which book she should buy for Severus. "Funny riddles, number riddles, wizard riddles?"

"None of us are gonna know what to get him any better than you will."

Neville and Luna nodded.

Hermione chewed on one of her nails again. "This isn't good enough," she mumbled.

Ginny would have thrown up her hands if they hadn't been full. "Get them all, then."

"Quality, not quantity," Hermione rebuked.

At that moment, Ron and Lavender appeared.

"Blimey, look at all those bags," Neville said.

"Too much?" Lavender asked. In each hand she had a normal sized bag; Ron clutched five in his arms.

Luna stood on her toes to look inside the one full of baby clothes.

"Sybill and Aurora are going to be so cute!"

The only part of Ron's face visible was his rolling eyes. "Ready to get back? We told Fleur we wouldn't leave the kids with her long."

Hermione scanned the book spines faster. "Nothing is good enough," she repeated. 'Let's go back to Zonko's' was on the tip of her tongue when she saw it: the perfect present for Sevvie, an okay present for Professor Snape. The witch heard the metal clinking when she pulled the tiny plastic box from the shelf.