AN: It's like a twerked form of yoga breathing. Inhale fluff, exhale angst... repeat until you're dizzy.
"Bloody hell!" he bellowed waving a stack of orders. "Do you realize what this means? I need more employees! I need a bigger facility! Two people can't keep up with this! This whole idea was absurd! I was a fool to allow you to talk me into this!" He flung the stack of orders at his desk and spun away, as they scattered.
She bent down and started to pluck them up off the seat of the chair and the floor, arranging them neatly on top of his desk again. She let him rant without interruption, oddly surprised, even after all this time, at his capacity for vitriol. Her employer had been livid for the last twenty-four hours straight.
He snatched up cauldrons and started banging them onto the lab tables. "I was happy before, you know," he snarled. "I didn't have to deal with this. I could leave my fucking house without a trail of photographers dogging my steps. I used to have time to read a fucking book!"
He slammed the big number ten pewter down with a resonant gong and turned on her.
"I didn't have to worry if my apprentice was going to be caught out in the snow, surrounded by drunken would-be rapists because she wanted to fucking buy presents for her fucking halfwit friends! I wouldn't be forced to contemplate what could have happened, the absurdity of you having to run into Knockturn Alley for safety, or the fact that you didn't fucking call me for help!"
He slapped a cutting board onto the table and began pulverizing sopohorous beans with the side of a large carving knife. He lifted up the knife and jabbed it at her.
"Did you apply more bruise paste? I told you it needed to be applied three times a day!"
She held her hand up to her still tender cheek. "I'll go put some more on now," she said quietly.
She left the basement and entered into the kitchen. She looked up at the tapping of an owl and quickly opened the window and snatched the parchment off its leg. She saw it was yet another order and sighed. She sat down in the chair and stared out the window, as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
She didn't hear him enter the room, she just turned her head when she smelled the paste and closed her eyes, as his warm fingers began to spread it gently across the still tender bruise. His touch was so slight, as was the trembling of his hand. She winced from the ache in her heart, that this sordid incident was what led to his hand on her skin for the first time. She tilted her head to the side so he could see his work. His last stroke was a graze of knuckles across her jaw that almost broke her.
"Granger. This has to end. You could have been killed. You have the money you need to start a new life in Australia. I will give you more if you want. We're already well off now, even in just these few months of your mad scheme. It's enough."
She turned her head and looked up into his dark eyes and whispered, "Come with me."
His eyes widened and he backed away, shaking his head slightly. "Miss Granger—"
She slammed the flat of her hands down on the table. "No! Don't call me that! You can't keep using my name like a shield between us! It's ludicrous and insulting!"
His eyes filled with rage. "Get out! I am done with this farce! I am not your fucking hero, Granger. Stop looking at me like I am." He gathered his robes around him and narrowed his eyes. "You're fired. You will gather your things and leave."
"You are such an arse, Snape," she said, standing up and heading towards the door. "You can't fire me. You wouldn't even know where to find the paperwork to terminate our contracted agreement."
He followed her into the living room and watched intently as she snatched her cloak off the hook, his eyes following her fingers in growing alarm as they fastened each clasp.
"I have things to do. When I come back, I want you to be done with this snit. Now that you've resorted to empty demands, it's getting tiresome."
"I meant what I said, Granger! You're—"
"Stop." She held up a hand. "Don't lie to me. You don't want me to leave anymore than I want to go."
"You'll fucking leave in the end anyway! Where's the harm in being shut of you now?"
They stared at each other in a shocked silence, realizing that he had let slip much more than he'd intended. She knew him well enough to know that he would lash out at her in earnest now that he had made himself vulnerable.
"Do you need anything from Tesco's?" she asked, as she cast her Disillusionment spell.
He blinked at this sudden change in topic and she could see relief and the flicker of gratitude in his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. He turned away and went back into the kitchen before she opened the door, but she wasn't fooled. She knew he would dash back and watch to make sure she got safely away.
Hermione entered the house and canceled her spell, before hanging her cloak and heading into the kitchen.
Snape sat at the table staring out the window. She wished him good morning, as she always did, and his only acknowledgement was a loosening of his shoulders and a deeply indrawn breath, which he blew out with a sigh.
She saw he hadn't eaten and started rattling through the cupboards. He stood and tapped the kettle with his wand.
When they sat down to eat, she pulled a thick roll of parchment out of her backpack and tossed it onto the table next to his plate.
"What's this?" He picked it up and sat back, unfurling two pages of scrolls covered in legal terms.
"Happy Christmas. Sign them."
"And just what do you have me signing this time?"
"It's a production contract. Arcane Alchemy Limited is going to take over our production work starting January third. We will be able to increase our power, without having to do more work."
"How did you get them to agree to do this?" he asked with suspicion.
"Easily. You ordered them to. You bought them out yesterday. That's the other page. You need to sign that as well. I left all of their management in place, but they are now aware that if production standards are not up to your exacting measures, you will be making changes. We'll be inspecting the facility on the fourth. And they are obligated to send you one random vial out of every batch of every potion."
"I don't want to inspect their brewing facility, and I have better things to do than check random vials.'
"You say that now, but after spending the holidays stewing over the fact that your name will be associated with every potion that leaves that place, your inner control freak will kick in. I just went ahead and took that into account. You'll have time to read a book again."
He frowned at her and then looked down at the parchment. When he looked back up again he smiled. It was that smile, and it made her toes curl.
"You do realize," she said, "that I drained both of our bank accounts to do this." His smile slid off his face. "So no one will be running off to Australia anytime soon. We are now quite broke until after the holidays."
"When exactly did I give you control over my bank account?"
"Last week, when I realized we were getting too big for our boots. You signed the form when you renewed the latest patent. You really should pay attention. I've been telling you that all along. Perhaps this will be a lesson."
"You do realize that I will need to go grocery shopping before our profits from your latest venture roll in? Oh, but I forgot, you're only entitled to bread and cheese and a bit of meat once a week."
"I'm also entitled to a pallet on the floor near a fire, which I just might need with my rent coming due on the first. As for food, I've already taken care of at least two days worth. You're coming with me to the Burrow for Christmas dinner tonight and we'll be staying over. So we get to eat Molly's cooking tomorrow as well. If we play our cards right, we can snag the leftovers."
She saw the horrified look on his face and giggled. "I already told her we were both coming. If you back out now, she'll send Arthur to make you feel bad."
He snorted in disgust and scowled at her before he tossed the parchments on the table and finished his breakfast.
Snape entered the Burrow behind his apprentice and zapped the mistletoe that was hanging in the doorway before anyone saw. He clenched his jaw during the noisy welcome, but when he saw no evidence of judgment or suspicion, he relaxed and returned Molly and Arthur's cordial welcome. He was a bit nonplussed at Potter's enthusiastic hand pumping, and Ronald's thump on the back drew a scowl, but he took it all as the overly-sincere acceptance it was intended as and was amused.
He eventually settled down in a corner and watched the antics of this strange tribe of people that never seemed capable of sitting still. Dinner was loud and raucous and when he found himself nearly too overwhelmed by the sheer Weasley-ness of it all, Granger caught his eye and gave him a conspiratorial smile, and he calmed.
Pudding was served with tea, coffee or port. Snape chose the port.
Presents were opened by the tree, with lots of conversation about how things would be different next year when Bill's newly-announced baby joined the festivities.
Snape received a new knitted hat and matching scarf from Molly, black; a leather wallet from Potter, black; some warm knitted socks from Ginevra, black; and a new number eight iron cauldron from his apprentice, to replace the one she'd melted the bottom out of. Black, of course. The best present was a nice bottle of Armagnac from Ronald. The most conversation-stopping was an extendable ear from George, who almost had his other one hex off once Snape realized it was just a tasteless joke. His mother boxed his remaining ear, while Granger, sitting on the floor by Snape's knee surreptitiously squeezed his ankle and distracted him quite thoroughly.
He feigned ennui when she opened her present from him. He shrugged off mention of the effort that went into finding a replacement clock for the one that had finally refused to be repaired again—despite the fact that it had taken him weeks of trudging through Muggle shops to find one even close to being as horrendously ugly as the original. The idiot girl had started to cry, at which point he'd had enough and excused himself to get another glass of port.
It was past two in the morning when the party broke up and they all made their way towards the stairs. Snape hung back, having had enough of being surrounded on stairs while a teacher, and so it was that he and Granger were among the last stragglers heading to their respective rooms, aside from a drunken Ronald, who was caroling up the stairs dead last.
Snape stopped in front of his door.
"Did you have fun tonight?" she asked.
"I ate enough free food to justify any inconvenience," he replied.
She giggled and then lifted up on her toes and kissed his cheek, leaving a puff of sweet, warm breath near his ear when she pulled away.
"Good night, Snape. Happy Christmas. I'll see you at the next free meal in the morning."
He watched as she sauntered down the hall with her arms wrapped around her new clock and disappeared into a bedroom with a last wave.
"You saw her tits, didn't you? I told her it would work, even on you. They're amazing aren't they? It's like they defy gravity, being so plump and round without the droo-oop!" Ronald Weasley's words slurred to a halt and his eyes crossed when Snape's wand touched the end of his nose. "Right then. G'nite P'fessor."
"Severus, are you sure you and Hermione won't stay the weekend?" asked Molly, even as she heaped more covered dishes into his arms. "It's late, and I don't like the idea of you going home alone to that empty house of yours."
"Thank you, Molly, but no. I'm afraid I've reached the limit of my social abilities. Miss Granger is free to stay, of course." He looked at the girl. "You don't need to return to work until after New Year's, you know."
"Oh, I've things to see to and cats to feed," she replied. "I thank you as well, Molly. I had a splendid time."
Snape was spared having to shake hands with anyone due to holding a cauldron full of knit-wear, brandy, ears and enough food to last him almost week, depending on the appetite of his employee's tape worm.
Granger and he made their way to the Apparition point and with a last wave, she disappeared with a pop. He nodded to Potter, still waving his arm around like a git, and Disapparated as well.
He landed by the canal and had taken several steps before he saw Granger waiting for him on the tow path.
"I thought you had a cat to feed?"
"I do, but you had your arms full and I thought you might need help."
He looked down at her own arms, barely restraining the pile of presents she held, and raised his eyebrow. She blushed and turned away, stomping up the street towards his house.
Once inside, they headed straight for the kitchen and deposited their burdens on the kitchen table. He took off his cloak and laid it on the back of a chair and opened the refrigerator. She started passing him dishes and together they worked quickly to put away their new hoard of food. He closed the door and turned to her, still standing in her cloak, with her new bright-orange mittens and hat and dark-green muffler with little golden talons all over it so she could look appropriately confused at the next match between Chudley and Holyhead.
"Well," he said. "It looks like we'll be able to eat until we get paid again at least."
"Yeah. I knew I could count on Molly."
"Would you like some tea?"
"I'd love to say yes, just so I could have an excuse to stay longer, but I think I might explode if I did."
He looked at her in the faint light from the moon streaming in the window and the lone candle he had lit. The silence stretched out until he thought they both might snap.
"I did have a lovely time, Miss Granger," he said, watching as the tiny frown line appeared, as it always did when he addressed her formally.
She sighed and picked up her clock. "I did too. I guess I will just hang this and be on my way then."
She pulled out a chair and dragged it over to the wall above the door to the tiny bathroom, and scrambled up. "What time is it then?"
"Nine thirty-two."
She placed the clock on the wall, pulled her mittens off and stuffed them in her pockets and spun the hands, before pulling on the chain and starting it ticking.
She turned, and he moved up and held out his hand to help her down. She took it lightly in her own and stepped down gracefully.
The moment to politely let go came and went for both of them as they stared at each other in silence. He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand and she tilted her head just the slightest. His eyes flickered down to her lips and his head swayed just a fraction of an inch closer, before pulling back. He let go of her hand and tightened her muffler around her neck, tossing one end back over her shoulder.
"Good night, Miss Granger," he said, turning away and gathering his cloak up off the chair.
He heard her little frustrated growl behind him and closed his eyes from the pain that sound caused, as she stomped past him and headed towards the front door. The walls shook when she slammed it behind her. He moved quickly to the window and watched, as she struggled to shove her hands into her mittens and stalked off into the night.
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