AN: Thank you all so much for the support! It is very deeply appreciated!

"I don't know why I agreed to watch you while your familiar frolics around Australia," Severus glared at the half-kneazle lying across his emerald armchair, no doubt shedding clumps of orange fur which would stick to his clothes when he sat, orange fur which would need to be cleaned from his person every half hour lest someone believe he was adding color to his wardrobe.

Crookshanks huffed before shutting his eyes, a smirk of contentment on his face. The man in black may snarl, but he was harmless. He would do anything to please Hermione, even if that meant enduring fur on his robes. The man's desire for Hermione's happiness would guarantee Crookshanks at least one can of tuna and a few back scratches by the end of the evening.

Severus grunted before returning to his dressing room, grumbling under his breath about how the orange half-kneazle needed to show some respect. Hermione was not leaving until tomorrow, yet Crookshanks was strutting around the dungeons as if he owned the place. At some point, the feline would need to be taught manners and boundaries. It was bad enough that the last time he watched him, he had yowled until he received two cans of tuna a day along with several bacon treats. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. This time, Severus would reduce it to one can of tuna and only one bacon treat a day. Every other meal would consist of the kibble Hermione used to feed him. Then, Crookshanks would learn how to show respect to his petsitter.

With a frown, Severus resumed combing his hair, wondering what the point was. Tonight was just another faculty Christmas party. He would arrive, stay just long enough to chat with Hermione, perhaps send his regards to Neville, then leave. Nobody expected him to remain for longer than a half hour, so what was the point of trying to impress anyone with his appearance?

For some reason, he still wore his finest robes. Like the ones he used for teaching, they were black. Still, these robes were new, and their color not faded from multiple washings. They were tailored to give his body more shape as well.

Truth be told, he would not possess them at all had Lucius not insisted on him owning something which he could wear to formal events like Ministry Balls. He argued it was never harmful to own robes in preparation for greatness. Severus rolled his eyes, but agreed to purchase them in the off chance he cared what anyone thought of his appearance.

Once he stopped brushing his hair, he scowled. It wasn't clear why he was dressed to impress. There was no date tonight, and even if there was, he did not care what any woman thought of him. No, there was nobody there who would show any interest in him, and nobody he had an interest in.

His stomach sank as he realized Minerva had not asked him to go on a date all month. That could be a sign that she realized how futile interfering with his love life was, or a sign that she had an unpleasant surprise planned for the ball.

He clenched his fists. It would be just like her to use a date to cause a scene! If she had her way, Severus would be trapped at the party for hours, perhaps conversing with Ms. Turner, while Hermione sat in the background, waiting for the dance he'd promised her. How he'd become so intoxicated he promised her a dance he didn't know, but it was a promise he wanted to keep. Hermione was an excellent dance partner, and waltzing with her was agreeable enough. Not that she'd ever know it. Nobody needed to know how much Severus enjoyed her presence, even if it was at a dance he had no desire to attend.

Crookshanks let out a meow.

"No," he called as he left the bathroom. "You may not eat my leftover ribs."

The next meow was louder.

"You may not have ribs at this moment in time."

The half-kneazle protested his decision.

"Just because Hermione drops everything to feed you and spoils you rotten does not mean I will," he grumbled before staring down Crookshanks. As he looked upon the beast, he began to wonder what it would be like to wake up with Hermione in his arms, Crookshanks on the edge of the bed demanding breakfast. He would demand the feline learned manners, but Hermione would coo at him, making it clear Crookshanks could do whatever he wished. Then Crookshanks would bat his paw in such a way that melted Severus' heart more than he cared to admit. His focus wouldn't be on the half-kneazle though, just on the woman he was fortunate to have in his arms, the woman who was far more alluring than any skin care tycoon.

Crookshanks' mew brought him out of the fantasy. He grunted. "I need to go."

Crookshanks let out a louder meow and jumped in front of him.

"You won't allow me to leave until you get a bit of salami, will you?"

Crookshanks raised his paw and patted the air.

"Fine, but this is the last piece you will get. For the remainder of your time here, you will only receive one treat a day, not three."

Crookshanks strutted behind him, knowing very well that tomorrow Severus would give him at least four treats.

Minerva tapped her foot and glanced at her watch. It was nearly six, and there was no sign that Judith had finished with her meeting. Although she knew boardroom discussions could run long, she had hoped tonight would be an exception. This was an unrealistic expectation given how busy this time of year tended to be. She should get used to Judith not having free time. After Christmas came Valentine's Day, then spring. Most women would want to be presentable for those holidays. Poor Judith must be overworked! At least a party would relax her, and would be another chance for her relationship with Severus to grow.

"Twinkle," she called.

Pop!

"Yes?" The elf asked.

"Please stand by the floo. If a woman named Judith Turner calls, please let her into my quarters and lead her into the ballroom."

"Yes," the elf grinned.

"Good," Minerva spun around and exited the office, knowing it would be an exciting Christmas.

Hermione sighed as she ran the brush through her hair. Even after using an entire bottle of Sleekeazy's, a few tendrils fell out of place. At least her crimson dress was presentable. It covered her legs even when sitting in the wheelchair. Did it show too much cleavage though? She thought it showed a tasteful amount of her figure, but was the neckline too low?

If Severus thought it was too low cut, would he mind, or would he find her attire improper and refuse to converse with her for the remainder of the evening?

She groaned and put her head into her hands. All evening, she'd fantasized about Severus being in her quarters, whining about how little he wanted to attend the party. He would claim it was torture for her to attend and the whole party was frivolous. When he saw complaining was getting him nowhere and she still intended to attend the party, he would resort to purring sweet nothings in her ear, placing kisses up and down her jaw line, touching her the way she enjoyed being caressed, until they spent all evening making love under the twinkling multicolored lights of the Christmas tree, the party long forgotten.

Hermione shook her head and took a shaky breath. Ever since her realization that her feelings for Severus transcended friendship, she had been envisioning him in the most seductive of situations, performing acts which would make most of Hogwarts blush. Sybil's imagination was nothing in comparison to that of Hermione. Hermione was well-read in smutty romance novels and watched muggle romantic comedies after all. There were things she fantasized about nobody would ever guess her capable of conjuring in her head.

Alas, those fantasies would never become a reality. Severus was dating another woman, one who was much better suited for him than her. No man would leave Judith Turner for a cripple like Hermione. It was best to expel these fantasies from her head before they caused her anymore pain.

Then again, if Severus could love her the way she wanted to be loved, would it be worth the risk to share her emotions with him?

Not if it ruined her friendship. Regardless of what happened, she needed Severus in her life. If that was just as a friend, then so be it. So long as he was happy and maintained some type of friendship with her, she would be content with their relationship.

With a groan, she wheeled out of her bathroom and extinguished the Christmas lights. Then she left her quarters, hoping Severus had time for one dance with her. So far, he'd been the only person who'd learned to wheelchair dance with her. Over the last couple of years he'd become quite skilled in their makeshift dances. Perhaps if she was lucky he would give her one dance, allowing her to delude herself into believing they loved each other.

Severus stood at the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot. He'd taken a quick glance around the ballroom. Hermione was not present. In theory he could've waited for her inside, but Sybil had already indulged in three glasses of wine. A few times, she'd glowered at him and called him a lying cheater, amongst other words he did not find proper to utter in the presence of their colleagues. The last thing he needed was to endure more of her drunken antics.

"Severus?"

Severus watched as the Hogwarts transformed the marble stairs into a ramp. On the top was Hermione, sitting in a wheelchair. Somehow, she'd managed to put sprigs of holly on the push handles. That did not capture his attention though.

Her hair was tamed, framing her face perfectly. The crimson dress she wore brought out the softness in her eyes, and the color of her skin. While it may have been unintentional, the neckline showed enough of her shape, but let his imagination run wild. She bit her lip in a way that made Severus' heart race. His throat dried as his eyes grew.

How could this woman not know how beautiful she was?