A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, readers! Here comes another treat to feed the fluff-hungry sides of our minds.
Enjoy!
Chapter 46: Quiet Time Together
"Wow, I had nearly forgotten about these!" Hermione exclaimed. A pack of owls came swooping to her, fluttering their feathers in excitement. The packages tied to their legs flapped and swung along with their feathers.
Standing beside the open window, Severus looked thoroughly annoyed. His white linen shirt was more or less crushed from sleeping and his hair looked ruffled. She could see a shadow of a stubble on his chin, which completely changed his appearance from his usual clean shaven face.
"Uh, Merry Christmas to you too," Hermione laughed.
He muttered something under his breath groggily.
She slowly worked to untie the packages from the owls' feet. There were more than she had expected, even Amber, Severus' owl—the only owl who sophisticatedly perched on the windowsill—had come carrying a present. Pig and Hedwig made a ruckus around her when Hermione was paying attention to an anonymous Eagle-owl.
As if the hubbub of owls was a lesser annoyance to Severus, Crookshanks, too, joined the party. "Gormless animals," he muttered, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked positively murderous.
"Some of these are for you," she held up a heavy box that, she was certain, contained a bottle of liquor.
"Gormless humans," was his only response. He clearly wasn't much of a morning person.
"You can use the guest room," she offered, untying the last package.
He muttered something again before retreating to the said room on the first floor. Hermione snickered in amusement, for all the ferocious attention he commanded, his undoing was a rude awakening.
Hermione fed the owls a strip of bacon from the leftover pizza and petted them goodbyes before closing the window. The presents all sat on the coffee table huddled over one another. She could see the gift she had wrapped for Severus there, too. She did imagine his reaction but she never knew she would actually get to watch his face firsthand.
She had celebrated her last Christmas with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley had baked delicious ginger bread on Mr. Weasley's return from St. Mungo's. The reminder of food sent a rumble in her stomach. Hermione went to the kitchen to find something decent to eat for breakfast, something that was not expired. She opened the refrigerator and instantly pulled her mother's cardigan tighter around herself. She had no clothes left in her room, but some of her Mum's fitted her. A faded pink cardigan and thick black trousers helped against the biting cold. She clicked her tongue to find the refrigerator containing nothing of use. Finally, she settled for tea, without any milk because they had none. A sealed packet of digestive cookies was the only decent thing she could find in the kitchen and settled for it without complaints. Not that had she had eggs, she could have cooked anything resembling an omelette, anyway.
When Severus re-emerged from the guest room, he looked fresh, back in his usual spirits. Though he did not have a change of clothes, he had used magic liberally to freshen and iron the ones he had been wearing.
She descended the floating tray on the dining table with a sheepish smile at his raised eyebrow. "Sorry. That was all I could do."
He looked hesitant. "Granger, you did not have to-"
"It's just tea. No milk," she shrugged. She had noticed his reluctance every time she did something, anything, for him from her will. It unsettled him greatly.
They sat and took sips of the warm tea, after which Hermione promised herself never to try making black tea again. She munched on cookies instead. But Severus drank without complaint, it was probably to his taste—bitter and dark. It gave him some respite from consuming that jam she had made.
UUUUUUU
Severus had woken to an incessant tapping on the window. Spy as he was, his instant reaction was to draw out his wand. The owls outside the window paid no mind to the imminent threat the stick in his hand imposed.
Severus cursed. Irritably, he left the couch to open the window for the flock. His feet got tangled in something, a blanket? Oh, he had slept on the sofa… Where was Granger? He picked the blanket up, did she…? How was one supposed to feel at that?
But his pondering was interrupted by the daft birds outside. His own owl, too, flew in. Severus called for Granger, and idly and quite irritably watched her attend to the 'morning guests'.
She seemed chirpy this morning, way different than her disposition yesterday. That was good news. She attended each owl with gentle manners, not to mention greeting them with Merry Christmas and even thanking the birds for delivering the packages. Granger possessed more tenderness and compassion in the nail of her finger than he possessed in his entire being. He watched her until the irksome cat walked in and found it prudent to rub against his leg. Severus shifted away from the cat, who in turn hissed at him in disapproval and leapt away to its mistress.
Afterwards, he took a leave from the zoo of animals and came to the guest bedroom. The bed was made with smugly tucked cashmere blankets and feather pillows, and he strongly wished to sleep for another hour or four, but it was already nearing eight.
He realised with a start that Albus and Minerva might be looking for him or Granger at breakfast!
Quickly, he drew his wand and sent two messages through his Patronus. Albus' was a terse information of his delay in returning while Minerva's was more vividly explained. In all honesty, Severus preferred his current company every bit more than being at Hogwarts right now, among his hungover colleagues and over enthusiastic employer. In fact, he would happily spend another day away from Scotland—with Granger.
That thought unsettled him. Ideally, he was supposed to return to the school and embark upon his baseless decision of distancing himself from her. Baseless it was, because he had neither a plan nor a will to do that anymore. If he could be completely honest with himself, he would prefer more such easy evenings like yesterday's than the midnights when he was summoned. Granger exuded an aura where he did not have to carry himself stiffly and formally. Even though their nature of relationship was strictly formal—or rather should be strictly formal which neither of them was paying heed to.
When the Patronus of a cat emerged from nowhere, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.
"Severus," Minerva's voice echoed in the quiet room, "I was about to reach out to you when neither you nor Miss Granger showed up this morning. Wise that you decided to stay with her, considering the dangerous times. Also, Albus has announced an Order meeting for day after tomorrow, do inform Miss Granger, too. Merry Christmas to you both!"
The glowing hologram of the cat disappeared after delivering an unnaturally long message for a Patronus.
Albus' reply came when he was trying to iron his shirt using his wand. A casual acknowledgment of Severus' Patronus and information about the said Order meeting, ending with a 'You were terribly missed in the Christmas gathering, my boy'.
Severus made his way outside only to find a tea tray hovering after Granger. When she settled the tray on the table, the china clattered. Black tea swirled in each cup with a side of biscuits.
Severus shook his head at her. "Granger, you did not have to-"
But she cut him off with a shrug. "It's just tea. No milk."
Yes, it was just tea. Yet, it discomfited him greatly to have her attend to him, especially in a manner that the terms of the bond demanded, even if she had no intentions as such.
"I could find nothing else," she said, offering him the plain biscuits. "There's a breakfast place nearby. Shall I order?"
"There is no-"
"Or let's go there, instead," she perked up with her own suggestion. "I would love a walk."
"A walk?" He quietly said, his eye wandering to the window. The scarce sunlight was pouring out of the glass. He was not averse to the idea of a walk. "Alright."
"Great! Just give me a minute, let me feed Crooks first."
UUUUUUU
Breakfast at The Little Hub entailed a lush stack of banana pancakes and coffee for Hermione, and black pudding, eggs and soldiers, along with a presumably better cup of tea for Severus. He was mostly traditional with his choice of food, she had observed, and he hated coffee, especially when being drunk with pancakes, for there was a remark made on Hermione's capacity for consuming sweet. Though she, herself, didn't condone too sweet, Christmas called for going lax on food habits.
London was immersed in Yule spirit. A statue of Rudolph, the reindeer was standing at the door. Seeing all houses decorated, it was a wordless understanding that both of them wanted to continue the walk after eating.
She walked carefully on her crutches and Severus, she noticed, synced his speed with her. Instead of his usual strides, he settled for smaller steps. Hermione kept most of her face covered with the woollen scarf she wore to cover her head and ears of cold. Hardly anyone noticed her.
She led the way. She took Severus to see the Church and was mesmerised by the beauty. She showed him her old Muggle kindergarten. A beautiful Christmas Tree stood tall and adorned in the middle of the playground, fenced by cardboard ice, visible to them. They went to a park where she used to go as a child. Children ran and played, flaunting their gifts from Santa to one another. When they passed by the sweet shop, Hermione's mouth watered at the delicious smell of cakes pervading the vicinity.
The public library was a spot both of them were keen upon visiting, but it was closed on account of holiday. So instead, Hermione and Severus walked by the Department Store. The Departmental Store was just as decorated. Outside The Breaky's, a man dressed as Father Christmas held out packed candles to kids.
"I took my first summer job here," she told Severus. "Last year, in fact. What was your first job?"
"In the Wizarding World, there is no concept of working before finishing a proper education," he said.
"Another thing that strikes me as odd," she commented. "But you were brought up in the Muggle world, weren't you?"
"In name, yes."
"Did you attend school before Hogwarts?" She inquired.
"No. I was home-schooled by my Mother," he replied. "She taught me about the basics of magic along with some general Muggle grammar and mathematics."
"Best of both worlds," she remarked distractedly as a car passed by.
"Hardly," he muttered.
Hermione could sense a bitterness in his tone suddenly. She decided to switch the topic. "You must have had a good amount of knowledge when you came to Hogwarts."
"Yes. Especially in the Dark Arts," he admitted.
"You mean, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"No. The Dark Arts," he confessed. "Our cellar contained artefacts that my Mother had procured from the Wizarding World, mostly her meagre inheritance that her father bestowed upon her. I had time to vividly study each artefact and learn about it in solace when both of my parents suspected me to be out, playing in the park."
Hermione was amused. "You were always sneaky."
"Always clever, I would say," he raised a brow with similar amusement.
"But why did you have dark artefacts to explore? Why not study from better books instead?"
"That was all we had in the name of magic, that was all my Mother was given after she was abandoned by her family." If he was hesitant to reveal that part, it did not show.
"Abandoned? Why was she abandoned?" Hermione frowned.
"On account of marrying a Muggle," he said as if it was a general happening, or was it? "In the Pure-blood families, marrying a Muggle or a wizard lower in blood is equivalent to the horrid Muggle prejudice of marrying a person of the same gender."
"Even that's gradually normalising now," she said in defence.
"But the Wizarding World still harbours the stigma of inter-blood marriages," he said.
"Do you?" She quirked an eye at him.
"The concept of marriage in itself is obnoxious to me, in all honesty," he quipped. Hermione laughed. "On a serious note, no. The primary reason for the Dark Lord's rise to power is blood-discrimination. The stigma is preposterous at best. The Weasleys stand against it and they are declared ' Traitors', Andromeda Tonks turned against the beliefs and she is denuded of her Black family name. These are just two examples."
"People are blind in their empty beliefs," Hermione mumbled.
They walked some more and eventually, falling to her craving, Hermione insisted upon buying plum cake. Though none of them favoured sweet, the freshly baked cakes could not be denied by either.
"We must head back," he said after coming out of the sweet shop. And Hermione found herself disappointed at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts, she was enjoying her quiet time with him—much to her own surprise. "You need not over-exert your legs." Then she realised he only meant for them to go back to the house.
On going back to the house, Hermione decided they should open their presents. As expected, Severus was less than interested but did join her when she started opening her gifts. Crookshanks curled up between them on the sofa, also excited to watch the unwrapping.
It was when she was opening her first present that Hermione realised that this Christmas had been beautiful in a different sort of way. And she had adored every moment of it. Now, in retrospect, even meeting Mr. Andrews did not seem taxing, it was more of a closure… And now, she sat in the living room with a man she liked to be in company with, opening presents, not to mention with her lovely familiar by her side. She did not feel aggrieved to be spending this Christmas without her family and friends but instead her heart warmed with what she had in the present moment.
Crookshanks butted his head on her arm to remind her that she was supposed to be unwrapping the package. With a bright, genuine smile, she opened her gifts.
Most of the items were expected, like a book on Healing Magic from Harry, a package from Honeydukes sent by Ron and a Weasley jumper with 'H' from Mrs. Weasley. The other gifts included a Madam Hairbroom's customised hair-care package from Ginny with a note that said, 'For all your cribbing about your hair. Use this! Happy Christmas!'; a book on Healing Flora from Neville; and a cotton cloak with an elaborate design of tiny white angels circling a small, blue bird seemingly ready to leave her nest for the first time, from Luna—her note read, 'The angels will keep you safe'. That was very thoughtful of Luna, Hermione reflected.
A Christmas card from Viktor reminded Hermione with a jolt that she did not send one to him! But to distract her from that, she was pleased to receive a card each from Mrs. Frost and Mr. Mallard.
One last present remained, packed in plain brown paper. It had no name on it. She turned it to look for any address, but couldn't find anything written. Hermione opened the gift, nevertheless. Three volumes on Animagus transformation laid inside. The leather-bound books were authored by the famous Animagus researcher from the States, Sean Jack. Hermione traced a finger through the spine of the hefty first volume. Her eyes brightened to find herself in the possession of such rare volumes.
But the package contained no note from the sender. Hermione opened the book to look for any address.
She caught Severus looking at her with a combination of interest and hesitance. A smile played on her lips, "You?"
He cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable. "I had assumed you might want to try transforming at some point."
"Yes, I would love to," her smile widened. She remembered a brief conversation they had had about becoming Animagus, back in October. It heartened her to think he still had those conversations in mind. "Thank you."
He nodded, not great at receiving gratitude.
"Your turn," she gestured towards his packages.
Severus lazily retrieved his wand and pointed his towards the packages.
"No, no, no!" Hermione quickly grabbed his wrist. "Open them by hand. It's Christmas!"
He literally paused and Hermione realised she was still holding his hand. She hastily let go, feeling blood rushing to her face. But it had felt so very natural to hold his hand, and she realised it was not the first time she had held his hand since coming to London.
Not to make the moment awkward between them, she passed the first package to him with a little too much enthusiasm. "Here!"
Severus did not comment. He simply began unwrapping the gift.
At least three of his gifts contained alcohol (the other packages carrying unique potions ingredients or books). Hermione could not deny being concerned. She had hardly found him drinking once when she was staying at the Spinner's End. But to think of it, she very rarely remained in his presence back then. Her eyes roamed over the three bottles with a variation of alcohol in them. Each from the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and the Malfoys'.
"What a variety," he snorted.
"I never..." She paused to find the correct words. "I never took you for..."
"An alcoholic?" He raised an eyebrow but mirth danced in his eyes.
"Well, you can't blame me. There's a reason I want to become a Healer," she tried to sound casual.
"I'm not, Granger," he relaxed. With his wand, he vanished the three bottles just like that, with no hesitance whatsoever. "Intemperance is not a trait I have. I, more than anyone, know its cost."
Hermione caught a shadow of his past pass through his expressions before he concealed it. He had told her about his father. In fact, the whole locality at Spinner's End knew of Tobias Snape's overindulgence. A childhood spent watching one's father blinded by alcohol would have probably never let him walk the same trail. That got her thinking how many more creases he was yet to unfold about his life before she was a part of it.
"There's one left," Hermione said when she felt the silence was becoming taxing.
Unlike him, she had wrapped the present in a pleasant packaging, blue with white snowflakes. When he tore the paper, he also found a note that she had written—'I think I'm too observant for good, Sir. Merry Christmas!' Severus looked at her in puzzlement. To which she shrugged. But deep down, she was trying to control her laughter.
When he completely removed the packaging to reveal the gift, Hermione broke into a chuckle on seeing his face.
"You... Of course, too observant—and meddlesome," he shook his head. In his hand, he held an origami-craft set.
"I found a little something in your office one day," she simpered.
"And I am the spy," he snorted. "This stays between us, Granger."
"On one condition," she challenged boldly, with a smirk.
Severus raised a brow in question.
"Stop addressing me as Granger. Please just call me Hermione," she shrugged.
His expressions suddenly sobered. Hermione wondered if she had crossed a line... He was a very reserved person, surprisingly open with her. He might mind her forward attitude. But she strongly felt that they had come a long way from keeping up with such formality with names.
She started again, "I mean...Not in public-"
"It will certainly need quite a bit of practice in getting used to. But alright, if that's what you'd prefer."
Unconsciously, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Great!" She smiled.
"But never in public, mind you," he clarified.
"I wouldn't dream of it. Quite literally."
The afternoon passed in bantering, treating themselves on plum cake and making origami. In the Granger House, Christmas was celebrated again. Though differently, just as joyfully.
UUUUUUU
When the pair reached Hogwarts, the clock was striking six. Neither of the two cared about the delay. The castle was dancing in the bliss of the last remaining hours of Yule.
Granger Apparated alongside Severus. They landed just outside the Gates and breathed a sigh to find nobody in sight. Granger's cat jumped from Severus' hold onto the snow covered grounds of Scotland and stretched leisurely.
"Will I see you at Christmas feast?" Granger asked.
"I am certain the Headmaster will be heartily displeased if I don't attend the feast," he said. "Not that anything will make me more satisfied."
Granger chuckled. "See you then."
Severus watched Granger- Hermione leave, behind her the cat followed hurriedly.
A faint smile lingered on his lips until the witch blurred to a speck in the fog of winter.
For one Severus Snape, Christmas truly felt like a festival this year.
A/N: First name basis? Hmm. That's something!
But you haven't seen what I have in store for you, you will be surprised in the next chapter! Yes!
Reviews, please!