Chapter 17: Auld Lang Syne

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

Thanks go out to VIVAvivacious for being kind enough to lend her beta skills to this story.

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The curtains in the room had remained mostly shut for the better part of three days, with only a sliver of white winter light filtering through a slight gap.

Hermione had been in bed for the better part of that time, able to walk but unwilling to face what was beyond the four walls of her bedroom just yet. Never before had she spent a Christmas morning in this manner; it hardly even felt like Christmas to her. There was no excitement leading up to the day, no frantic present shopping at the last minute, and she had been so wrapped up in what she had been doing that she had almost forgotten the presents she had purchased for both Luna and Snape months in advance. She even had something for Harry and Ron tucked away at the bottom of her trunk.

She propped up her pillows against the headboard so she was in a sitting position and rested herself against them. Flinging an arm out to one side, she Summoned a book from her trunk and gently ran her fingers over the words on the cover. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. It was one of her favourite books as a young girl, and every year around Christmastime, she and her mother would sit and read it together.

But her parents were gone now, and there would be no one to read the book with her. When she had gone to Hogwarts and stayed at the school or with the Weasleys, she at least would have company and people chattering around her, distracting her from her sorrow over her lost family.

Luna had been forced away the day before, having to attend an Order meeting and do some work. Hermione knew what was really happening. Dumbledore was punishing her. He knew Luna was the only friend she had left, and he deliberately took her away. Luna told Hermione she would leave the Order too, but the older witch had told her not to. She couldn't expect Luna to leave simply because she was her friend.

Hermione sighed, placing her book on the nightstand. She was contemplating getting up and going to take a shower when she heard a knock on the bedroom door.

'It's open,' she said clearly, her voice much improved.

It made a soft creaking noise as it opened, and Snape stepped inside, dressed in black trousers with a black shirt tucked neatly into them. He was not wearing a frock coat or robes or any other formal attire. She was stunned. He offered her a small half-smile, closing the door behind him before sitting down in the chair that still sat alongside the bed.

'Happy Christmas,' he said quietly.

'Happy Christmas to you, as well,' she replied, reaching out a hand to touch Snape's wrist briefly before retracting it.

'Did you think you might like to come downstairs and have a proper breakfast this morning?' he asked, looking her over quickly.

She stared at his face, his expression earnest. How could she deny him? 'Of course, I think I would like that very much,' she answered, offering him a smile that just barely reached her eyes.

It was enough apparently, for he stood again and went back to the door, leaving as swiftly as he arrived. Hermione looked down at the ends of her curly mop of hair and decided she had left it in the state it was for far too long. It had not been washed since Snape had brought her back to the cottage from Greyback's house. Luna had done her best with various Scourgifying spells, but it was getting greasy and gritty. She didn't even want to think about trying to run a comb through it until after a shower.

Deciding she had wallowed quite enough, she tossed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up on marginally wobbly legs. She hopped from foot to foot until they had accommodated her weight, and then grabbed her bathrobe from the wardrobe on her way to the bathroom. After washing her hair and the rest of her, she dried off quickly and returned to her room wrapped in the robe, careful to pick out a maroon sweater and dark jeans to wear.

When she was dressed and her hair cascaded in damp curls down her back, she made her way to head downstairs. On the way down, she caught sight of her reflection in a small mirror on the wall. There was a bruise, slightly yellow, that sat just above her right brow, and there was still slight bruising around her neck. Her eyes were a dark chocolate that day, and she was dreadfully pale – almost as pale as Snape.

Shaking her head, she continued on her way, heading for the kitchen. On entering, she was surprised to hear the sound of the radio playing 'Auld Lang Syne' along with the slight crackle of whatever Snape was frying in the pan at the stove.

'I didn't know you liked Christmas music, Snape,' she commented, a smile curving her mouth upwards at the corners.

He spun around to look at her, surprise in his dark eyes. Hermione smirked. Snape was so used to hearing every single little thing; she doubted many people had managed to get the drop on him like that. Walking over to join him at the stove, he moved over to allow her to take over watching the eggs while he tended to the bacon and fried tomatoes in the other pan. He shut the flames off beneath both pans when they were ready, and together they set the table and served themselves.

'I don't really like Christmas music,' Snape said when they began to eat. 'I just turned the radio on to channel four because I thought you liked it.'

Hermione smiled, recalling Christmas the year before at Grimmauld Place. Ron had turned on the radio to channel four and made her and Harry dance around the sitting room and sing along to the tunes with him. It had been one of her favourite Christmases. Snape had stood in the corner beside Remus Lupin and watched them with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Hermione thought perhaps Snape wasn't really as opposed to the season as everyone had assumed he was.

'It was a good Christmas,' she said, smiling at him brightly. 'Thank you. It was very thoughtful of you to turn the radio on for me.'

Hermione thought she saw Snape's cheeks flush a little at this before he disappeared behind his newspaper as he usually did in the mornings. Chuckling a little, she finished her breakfast off quickly and collected their empty plates, taking everything to the sink and filling it manually. She washed everything up on her own before returning to the table and tugging the newspaper down a little so she could see Snape's face.

He looked up at her with a dark eyebrow quirked up in question. 'How might I help you, Miss Granger?' he asked.

'Let's go into the sitting room and sit on the lounge by the fire. I have something I want to get from upstairs to give to you,' she suggested.

He sighed dramatically and nodded. 'All right, I suppose that sounds like an agreeable idea,' he murmured, folding his newspaper up and placing it back on the kitchen table. 'I'll meet you there shortly.'

Ten minutes later, Hermione entered the sitting room to find Snape perched on the lounge with a book open, sitting furthest from the fire, leaving her the seat beside it and the throw rug flung over the back of it. She clutched the neatly wrapped gift behind her back and walked across the room to present it to him. He smirked at the sight of the silver wrapping and green ribbon.

She gestured for him to open it, which he did carefully, tugging the ribbon out of the way and neatly pulling the tape before slipping the wrapping off of the leather-bound volume he now held. It was a First Edition copy of Moste Potente Potions that she had found in a little bookshop in Muggle London, tucked away in the fiction aisle. His dark eyes could not hide the smile that was in them at his gift.

'Thank you, Hermione,' he said with a nod. 'This is a very fine gift, indeed.'

Hermione could not contain the flush of pleasure that spread through her at hearing this. It was something she had accidentally stumbled upon, but it did not diminish its meaning. She took a seat on the lounge and tucked her legs up beneath her, grabbing the throw rug and laying it over her lap.

'I have something for you, also,' Snape said, holding out a small rectangular parcel wrapped neatly with gold paper. 'Yes, it is ironic we would both choose to wrap one another's gifts in house colours.'

Hermione laughed softly at that, accepting the small parcel. She peeled off the sticky tape carefully and with almost as much grace as Snape, slipped the box laying within onto her palm and leaving the wrapping intact. When she lifted the lid of the box, she saw a bright blue lapis lazuli pendant in the shape of a teardrop wrapped in silver sitting on the end of a fine silver chain.

'It's a Portkey,' he said quietly. 'It's keyed to this cottage and can only be used by you once you have activated it with your wand. The lapis lazuli is the stone of protection.'

'It's beautiful,' she said, her breath catching in her throat. 'It seems as if you are always trying to protect me, Severus.'

'Someone has to,' he replied with a hint of his usual sarcasm.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and turned her back to present her neck to him, holding her curls up out of the way. 'Can you help me put it on?' she asked.

He took the necklace from her and swiftly secured it around her neck. 'The chain won't break unless it is being used as a weapon against you.'

Hermione smiled. The man thought of everything. 'That is a handy little bit of charm work,' she noted.

She watched as a delighted flush stole across her former professor's cheeks and thought it was definitely worth pushing all the darkness out of the way for the day just to see him almost smiling at her and acting as though they were friends. And they might very well be friends after all they had been through together in the past couple of months. He had seen her murder in cold blood and could still look at her as he did every other day. He was good to her in a way she had not thought possible.

She pulled her wand out of her sleeve and pointed it in the direction of the doorway. 'Accio Little Women,' she said clearly, and in seconds, the book came zooming into her hands.

'Louisa May Alcott?' Snape asked.

'It was one of my favourites as a child,' she replied. 'My mother used to read it to me every Christmas until I learned to read myself, and then we would take turns and read it together. Would you care to read with me, Severus?'

He reached over and plucked the book from her hands with nimble fingers, opening it to the first page. '"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug,' Snape read, his deep, resonant voice flowing over her and soothing her.

Hermione listed to him for a long time as he read chapter after chapter of her favourite book. Eventually the sound of his voice had her falling asleep, and she nestled into the warmth of a firm chest unknowingly. When she woke a few hours later, drowsy from the warmth of the fire, she turned her head to see she was resting snugly against Snape's side, her cheek pressing against his chest and his arms wound tightly around her. She looked up a little to see his eyes were closed in slumber, also.

She should have been worried or dismayed, but somehow, with his strong arms around her and her face nuzzled into him just so, she felt like she could curb the darkness with his help.

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A/N – Yes, it was a tender moment between the two.