A/N: Sorry it's a relatively short one, but the next is up soon, and it'll be Christmas Day at Hogwarts! Yay! I'm just building up their nice adult friendship. No more fighting...for now...

As always please review – it's the only thing that keeps me going! I am so grateful for all the reviews I've received so far. They really brighten up my day.

RdF

Chapter Seven – Tis The Season

Time seemed to go much too quickly for the new teachers and before they knew it, it was December and the threat of the real inspection in January was looming over their heads. Still, there was Christmas and New Year to get out of the way, and something of the holiday spirit seemed to have infected the hearts of all the students and faculty. Alana remembered fondly her first and only Christmas at Hogwarts, and she was surprised how good it made her feel to be back in the castle when the decorations first appeared. The Great Hall was nothing short of decadent every day, with holly wreaths, red velvet ribbons and golden candles hovering above each House's table. Much to the students delight, it was a particularly cold winter and there hadn't been a day since mid November where it hadn't snowed. It wasn't unusual to see students still wearing their earmuffs indoors after having been outside with Hagrid, traipsing snow into the hallways. They were giddy with excitement and it was infectious.

It was Friday and a group of first years in normal clothes ran past Alana as she walked slowly down a stair case, nearly knocking her over. "I know you're excited about going home – but try not to kill me, or anyone else in the process," she joked weakly. They all smiled apologetically and ran off once more, barely heeding her words as they darted up a staircase to their common room before it started moving.

She shook her head and carried on; going home for Christmas sounded like a wonderful idea, but her father still wasn't speaking to her and refused to have her in the house. Her brother was spending his first Christmas with his new wife and baby daughter, and while he'd be happy to have her, Alana just didn't feel like intruding. The Malfoy's had extended an invite – after all she'd spent her first Christmas away from home with them, then gone to Hermione's for the following three, and then back to the Malfoy's last year. Christmas with Lucius and Draco was a lavish affair, but the holiday was much more like the ones from her childhood at Hermione's. Her parents were Muggles, as was Alana's mother, and so Muggle tradition had been a big part of Yule time for them.

She supposed that Hermione might go to the Malfoy's this year, seeing how she and Draco were getting along so well. It might make her feel a little less awkward to have a female friend there, Alana reasoned, heading to the dungeons to freshen up before dinner. Not that it was ever very awkward at Lucius and Draco's – they simply treated her as extended family. She just missed home, she realised with a sigh, and no amount of luxurious food or friendly company would make her miss it any less. Her mother hadn't written in a while, but her last letter had mentioned that even though he was missing Alana, her father refused to budge on his ban.

She had tried to make France work at first, but the resentment over the whole thing got too much. She could say what she like about Snape, but he had caused her eyes to open during their time together, and when she returned to be her father's apprentice, she realised very quickly that she was better than that. It hadn't gone down well – Algernon treated it like some kind of bitter betrayal, and she had not stayed long after that.

Alana pulled out a piece of paper and a quill when she got back to her room. Penning her letter would be difficult, but she didn't feel like being around anyone this Christmas. She didn't need a reminder that she couldn't be with her parents, and that everyone else around her had somewhere to go. It wasn't as if she was completely forgoing the season – she wasn't Ebenezer Scrooge – it was just such an effort to pretend all the time. She knew it would disappoint her friends, but she could still visit at some point. Besides, there were students at the castle who couldn't go home for the holidays. And it wasn't as if she had nothing to do – she had essays to mark, and lessons to plan. To be honest, it had been five years since she'd had a Hogwarts Christmas, and the prospect of celebrating Christmas Day in the school made her feel like a child again.

XXXXX

Monday brought a new sort of quiet to the school; half the student populace had gone, leaving the shouts of those remaining behind to echo even louder in the corridors. It was good to be able to hear yourself think, Alana mused, pacing through the library slowly, relishing the stillness. There were usually students crammed at the study tables, bent over in nooks with their head in a large battered volume of Advanced Transfigurations. The only people in there were herself, Madame Pince and a couple of stragglers, but even they were leaving. Pince saw her coming and smiled.

"Professor Cross," she said warmly, sweeping over in festive robes. "I found the book you were asking about." She went under her large oak desk to get it, and produced it by slamming it down with a heavy thud.

"I had hoped you would, though I'm sure I could have found it somewhere," Alana smiled appreciatively, tucking some stray hair away from her face. "I tried Flourish and Botts, but they don't tend to stock older books anymore."

Pince sniffed with a look of disapproval. "You don't have to tell me, Professor. It's all about making galleons these days. But, never mind, I found it for you. Is it for your NEWT class?"

"Well, to a degree, and for some personal research I'm hoping to look at over the holidays," Alana explained, making conversation as she signed the borrowing form with a long quill and handed it back.

"Oh, are you staying?" Pince asked.

"Yes. Are you?"

"Oh I stay every year. You'll be coming to the staff Christmas party of course?"

Alana raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I hadn't realised there was one. I only decided to stay a few days ago."

Pince smiled and took the forms from her. "We have one every year, usually on Christmas Day. In the evening. Be sure to come," she added. "It's usually a lot of fun. Minerva makes this fabulous mulled wine."

Alana nodded. "Sounds interesting." She smiled at the thought; she worked alongside her old professors' well, she'd seen them enjoying themselves at feasts countless times. But this was behind the scenes, away from the eyes of pupils. It gave her a strange feeling - like she might be spying on them and seeing something she wasn't supposed to.

Not that she could imagine any of them getting blinding drunk and dancing on tables.

"Are you headed back to the dungeons?" the older woman asked, busying herself with tidying her desk and breaking Alana from her thoughts.

Alana glanced at her as she picked up her book and held it to her chest. "Yes, why?"

"I was wondering if you'll see Professor Snape – only I have a book here for him too."

Alana contained her grimace. "Er, sure. If it'll save you a trip."

"Oh thank you. It's such a trek down to his rooms and well, I'm not getting any younger." Pince turned around to get the book she was talking about and handed it to Alana. "There you are."

Alana didn't even look at the book title as she took it and placed it on top of her own. She'd managed to avoid him since she'd been made to swallow down that particularly bitter slice of humble pie, but as she had to constantly remind herself, they were colleagues and that meant occasionally having to talk. It'd be good practice. He was also staying at the castle for the holidays so that meant she'd probably have to be sociable with the man eventually, in the spirit of the season. Goodwill to all men, and all that jazz. Especially if he'd be at the staff Christmas Party. Alana frowned. Would he be there? Drinking mulled wine with the rest of them? Somehow she couldn't picture it, but she supposed she'd find out.

She just had to be careful not to do anything monumentally stupid during these few weeks that would give him any ammunition. If she could just do that, she had every faith that they could get along just fine. They'd managed it in the past. They could get along quite well when they put their mind to it.

She just had to hope he would put his mind to it, just as she had.

XXXXX

"Come in," barked Snape when he heard the knock at the door. He was marking essays, trying to complete as many as he could so that the entirety of his holiday was not spent devoted to the reprobates he had to endure day in and day out. A disturbance wasn't welcome and even less so when he saw it was Alana, stepping in with something in her hands. Still, at least she had knocked, which was a vast improvement.

"Madame Pince asked me to give you this," she said blankly, handing him a book. He stared at it, glanced at the title and nodded before putting it on top of the pile of books he already had on his desk.

Looking up at her, he flashed Alana a brief, rather blank smile. "Thank you." She looked a little tired, he noticed; the dark lines under her eyes were deep, she'd lost weight around her face, and her dark hair was tied back into a scruffy plait. She looked dreadful, he realised, setting aside his quill with a little shock. Was she really that worried about the inspection? Snape frowned, wondering what he could possibly say that she wouldn't turn into a slur against her character. He decided to leave it and bent back over his work. "You're spending Christmas at the castle?"

"Yes."

"Lucius is disappointed," Snape stated.

Alana shrugged – she'd known he would be. "I'm sure he'll get along just fine without me. I...would have thought you'd have gone."

"No," Snape said simply, without elaborating. He had been invited, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Neither was he going to tell her that he had said no to Lucius simply because he assumed she would be going. He had come around to the idea of working with her, and could tolerate her professionally, but sat opposite her over a plate of roast turkey? As he had explained to Lucius, they weren't good friends, and their relationship was somewhat tense. Who wanted that kind of awkwardness at a Christmas dinner?

He had gotten another letter this morning telling him she had decided not to go after all, and so the offer was still there, but he didn't feel like going. It'd be easier to avoid each other's company in a place the size of Hogwarts. Besides, if she needed his help with regards to the inspection, it'd be better to look at it here, where they worked.

"Anyway, I just came to give you that. Enjoy your marking." She paused as she turned away and let out a short, disbelieving laugh which caused him to lift his head sharply to see what had made her do so. She was pointing at his bin and bent down to retrieve something from it, reappearing with the red satin box he had disposed of earlier that day. He grimaced and waved a hand.

"Put them back," he commanded.

"What are these?" she laughed, lifting the lid of the chocolates and abandoning the calm collected demeanour she'd had when she walked in; in fact, the cloud of worry that had been on her face before seemed to have vanished momentarily. Oh, the lines were still there, but her mood had lifted. At his expense, he realised with some disdain. What a surprise.

"A Christmas gift from an overly amorous student," he said, disgruntled. "I'm dreading Valentine's Day, but hopefully the phase will be over by then."

Alana laughed again. It was good to hear her laugh, he thought. "They really went to town," she said, peeping inside. He tried to take them from her, but she dodged him and closed the lid.

"I'm keeping these," she smiled, tapping the top with a long finger. "You'll only chuck them away."

"I don't want or need them," he snapped. "Why would I keep them? They're utterly ridiculous."

She read the card quietly to herself. "This is actually quite sweet," she mused, ignoring his eye roll and simper shot in her direction. "So you have an admirer?"

"Yes. I have quite the female following this year," he admitted dryly.

Alana paused and stared at him. "You do?"

"There's no need to look so surprised," he replied, staring intently at the essay he'd been trying to mark since she came in. Five girls – all first years – seemed to have replaced the customary emotion of fear that he expected from people of their age with attachment and pining. Their homework was scattered with doodle hearts, they were all falling behind in Potions because they couldn't concentrate. It was sickening, and a massive pain in the arse.

"No, I suppose not," she murmured softly. "I guess it's because of the whole 'antihero' vibe you've got going on," she added, turning to leave. Snape sat back in his chair with a smirk she couldn't see but heard nonetheless when he spoke to her retreating back.

"Antihero?"

"Yes – the brooding bad guy who isn't all that bad, that you hate to love, love to hate," she explained without a hint of irony in her voice, and her features completely deadpan. "Pop culture's full of them. Especially Muggle pop culture. They love antiheroes. Especially vampire ones."

Snape let out a sound like a growl and jammed his quill into the inkwell roughly. "I am not an antihero," he muttered. "And I do not 'brood'."

Alana fought her laughter and shook her head. "Sure."

He glanced at her reproachfully. "Goodnight, Professor Cross," he said.

"Night!" she said cheerfully, popping a chocolate in her mouth as she left.

XXXXX