Ten

This was written for the HG/SS holiday exchange on Live Journal. This was the prompt I chose: #71. Fic: Post-war Hermione and Severus are both doomed to spend Xmas alone until they run into each other in Diagon Alley or London. How, why, and what happens next is up to you. Happy ending, please. Any rating. This prompt was submitted by GinnyWeasley31, and the story is dedicated to her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Special thanks to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. And thanks to Illyria who did some Brit-picking for me. Any errors, however, are mine alone.

Ten

When Hermione woke up, it was morning. She could see the sun shining in through the curtains. Before she could do more than throw the covers back, Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room.

"You're awake, Miss Granger," the matron said. "That's good. I was just coming in to rouse you. We're almost ready to begin. You need to go use the loo. Your bladder should be empty before we start since you'll probably be asleep for hours."

Hermione was quite happy to follow Madam Pomfrey's instructions and headed to the small bathroom.

"May I brush my teeth?" she asked.

"Yes, but don't swallow any water. Rinse and spit only."

When she came out, Madam Pomfrey handed her a clean gown.

"Put this on, dear, and then get back into bed. I have to run one final scan. I need to give your exact weight to Professor Snape so he can mix the potions we need in the proper proportions."

Poppy ran her scan and then left to give the results to Snape.

Ten minutes later, Snape entered her room carrying three vials. He put the vials down on the table next to the bed. Then, mindful that Poppy could enter the room at any moment, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said.

"You look terrible," Hermione said. "Didn't you sleep at all last night?"

"I spent most of the night going over my calculations."

"You should have slept."

"I'll sleep once the procedure is done."

Before Hermione could say any more, Madam Pomfrey was back.

"We're ready to begin, Severus," she said to Snape.

Snape nodded and reached to pick up the first vial.

"This is a healing potion," he explained to Hermione. "We'll get some of this into your system before we start the procedure."

Hermione obediently swallowed the contents, grimacing at the taste.

Snape handed her a second vial. "This is a pain killing potion. Although you won't feel anything during the procedure, you will when you awaken. By taking the pain killing potion now, we're getting a head start on the pain."

Hermione drank that potion, as well.

Snape picked up the last vial.

"This is the Draught of Living Death. It will render you unconscious in seconds. You will remain unconscious for approximately six hours. That will give Poppy and Filius plenty of time to work on repairing your injury."

Hermione clutched the vial tightly in her hand. Now that the final moment was at hand, she was struck with a sudden attack of nerves.

"Will ... will you be here when I wake up?" she asked in a tremulous voice.

"Where else would I be?" he asked.

And then, heedless of the fact that Poppy was still standing on the other side of the bed, he leaned down and kissed her. "I won't leave your side, I promise," he whispered.

Hermione smiled, lifted the vial to her lips, and drank.

The first thing Hermione became aware of was the pain. It surged through her body in agonising waves that blocked out the awareness of anything else. Her mind rebelled against having to endure such agony and retreated back down into the dark well of unconsciousness.

The next time she floated toward consciousness, the pain returned. Once again, she retreated.

She could hear voices. She tried to open her eyes, but the pain pushed against her. She opened her mouth to shriek out her agony, but if she made any sound, she couldn't hear it above the screaming in her own head.

The voices were back. They seemed to be coming from a great distance. She tried to focus her attention on the voices, trying to determine who they belonged to and what they were saying.

"Why hasn't she woken up?"

That sounds like Harry. What is Harry doing in my bedroom?

"Flitwick can't explain it. He says none of the test animals reacted this way."

That's definitely Ron's voice.

She wanted to hear more, but the pain was starting to bite into the edge of her brain. She let herself fall back down into the darkness.

"You'll be of no use to Miss Granger if you collapse from malnutrition and exhaustion." Hermione recognised Professor McGonagall's voice. "Poppy says you haven't eaten, you haven't slept, and you've barely been away from her side long enough to use the loo."

"I promised her I wouldn't leave her."

That sounds like Professor Snape. No, not Professor Snape anymore. Severus. Severus, the man I love.

"No one expected her to remain unconscious for so long."

"I'm not leaving her, Minerva. I promised to be here when she woke up, and I will be."

Poor Severus. He sounds exhausted.

"Severus ..."

"I promised to take care of her. I promised. Instead, I've ... I've put her into a coma."

He won't leave until I wake up. He promised. He's a man of honour. He'll keep his promise, even if it kills him.

"It's not your fault ..."

"Whose bloody fault is it, then? My calculations were obviously flawed."

He's blaming himself! He thinks I'm not waking up because he made a mistake!

"Both Filius and Poppy double-checked your calculations. They were spot-on."

"Then why hasn't she awakened?"

"Mr. Potter is going to call her parents if she's not awake by tonight."

Oh don't do that! Don't ruin their holiday!

"Severus ... perhaps she should be transferred to St. Mungo's."

No, please. I want to stay here with Severus.

"Go away, Minerva! Go away and leave us alone!"

Hermione heard the faint tap-tapping of heels as Professor McGonagall walked out of the room.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," she heard him whisper.

Not your fault, Severus. Not you. It's the pain. It's so much worse than I ever dreamed it would be.

"I won't leave you. Minerva will have to cast The Imperius to make me leave you."

You're exhausted. You need to sleep.

Hermione felt the pain begin to gnaw at her. She wanted to pull back, to sink back into the peaceful, painless darkness.

I won't let the pain win! I won't!

Hermione reached deep inside herself to draw upon the courage and strength and magical energy she knew resided there. She was a witch! She was a Gryffindor! She had faced the Dark Lord and his minions and survived. She would not be beaten by a little pain. She would not retreat again!

"Severus," she whispered.

"Hermione!"

He jumped to his feet, rushing for the door.

"Poppy! Poppy! Come quickly! She's awake!"

Snape was shouting. She wanted to tell him to stop shouting. The pain was trying to drag her back down. She pushed it away.

"Severus."

"Yes, yes, I'm here," he said, coming back to sit by her bed. "Can you open your eyes?"

Hermione lifted lids that felt weighted with lead.

"You look like shite," she muttered.

Snape dropped his head into his hands and began to laugh.

Just then, Poppy bustled into the room.

"It's about time, Miss Granger," she said, but the tears sparkling on her lower lashes belied her brusqueness.

"Severus, move aside and let me examine her."

"No!" Hermione thought she had shouted, but it came out a strangled whisper. She moved her hand feebly, seeking out Severus's hand. When she found it, she wrapped her fingers around his and held on.

"Work around me, Poppy," Snape said. "I'm not moving."

Poppy sniffed, but worked around him. She ran her wand up and down over Hermione, muttering the diagnostic incantations.

"Her heart rate is a bit elevated," Poppy said.

"Dangerously so?" Snape asked sharply.

"No. I think she's still in a lot of pain."

Hermione tried to nod, but every movement caused the white-hot agony to intensify even more.

"If we give her a pain relieving potion, it may render her unconscious again," Poppy said.

"Prepare some cold compresses," Snape said. "Soak them in the herbal solution you use to ease muscle pulls and deep bruises."

"Excellent suggestion, Severus," Poppy said and hurried off to prepare the compresses.

She felt the chilled flannel touch her face. Then the soothing, aromatic scent of herbs drifted up her nose. The pain, which had been teasing at the edge of her mind, retreated a little.

"Nice," she managed to whisper.

"My own blend," Snape said as he watched Poppy place another compress across her shoulder and over her chest.

"Like the tea."

"Yes, like the tea," he agreed.

"How long?"

"How long have you been unconscious?"

"Yes. How long?"

"Two days," Snape said.

"I'm going to let you visit for a few minutes," Poppy said. "Then Miss Granger will need to rest."

"Of course, Poppy," Snape agreed.

When the matron had left the room, Hermione carefully turned her head to look at Snape.

"Did it work?"

"We should wait and have this discussion when you're more wide awake and in less pain," Snape said.

"The compresses are helping a lot," Hermione said. "The pain is manageable and I'm feeling quite wide awake. Now, did it work?"

"The damage was very deep ..." Snape began.

"I understand," she said, but she felt the absurd sting of tears behind her eyelids. All this pain, and it hadn't worked.

"Professor Flitwick must be disappointed. Tell him I'm sorry," she said in a voice thick with unshed tears.

"Will you let me finish, Miss Granger?" Snape said as he arched a brow at her.

"Sorry, Professor," she said.

"As I was saying, the damage was very deep. It took Poppy much longer to re-melt and re-distribute the subcutaneous tissue than we had thought it would take. This was especially true of the tissue on your breast. Poppy did as much as she could, but you will still have some scarring there."

"And my face?" Hermione asked in a hopeful tone.

"Your face is completely restored. There is some residual discolouration, but that should fade. Your eyelid no longer sags. Your lip no longer droops. Your shoulder, your neck, and your upper chest are smooth and look perfectly normal. Your breast tissue was the most damaged and took the longest to repair. It took so long that it was necessary to administer another dose of the Draught of Living Death."

"You thought you gave me too much."

"I was beginning to believe that, yes. You were unconscious for so long."

"I actually sort of woke up a couple of times. Once I heard Harry and Ron talking. I wanted to wake up, but I was afraid of the pain. Then I heard you and Professor McGonagall talking."

"You heard us?"

"Yes. You were blaming yourself for my ... my coma. When I heard that, I knew I had to wake up. You were blaming yourself when it was my own cowardice keeping me unconscious. I'm sorry, Severus. I'm so sorry."

Snape had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak. He squeezed her hand gently, and then he raised it to his lips.

"You have nothing to apologise for, Hermione."

"I caused you needless anguish because I was afraid of a little pain."

"The mind is a tricky thing. You were protecting yourself. For that, I am grateful. I know what pain can do to a person's body. I know what it can do to a person's mind, as well. You could have ended up like the Longbottoms."

"I'm still sorry you felt responsible. You weren't, you know."

"There was plenty of blame to go around. Poppy has been nearly inconsolable. She felt she should have stopped the procedure when she saw how deep the damage was. Filius blames himself for not fine-tuning the Remasking Charm enough. We've all three of us been wallowing in doubt and self-blame."

"Well, you're to stop immediately."

Snape smiled. "I'll be sure to relay your orders to Poppy and Filius."

"What about my scalp and my hair?" Hermione asked.

Hermione lifted a hand to her head, but the healing compress covered it completely.

"You said that most people didn't think your hair was your best feature."

"I know you must think me silly to be so concerned over hair," she said.

"You seem to have perfected the minor glamour for your hair," Snape said.

"I suppose that's a good thing," Hermione said.

"It would be if you were ever going to need it again."

"If I were ever going to need it again?"

Snape smiled and kissed her hand again. "There was some follicle damage. Filius and Poppy worked together to restore the undamaged follicles, and then they actually transplanted some follicles from the other side of your scalp. Filius then cast a hair growth charm. You now have a full head of hair, although it is not quite as thick as it used to be. And you might want to refine your hairstyle a bit; hairdressing is definitely not one of Filius's many talents."

"No more bushy hair?" Hermione asked.

"Well, certainly not as bushy as it used to be," he said with a smile.

"When will I be able to see what I look like?"

"If you can curb your impatience, it would probably be better to wait until later. You still have some swelling and some bruising. The compresses will help, and in a few hours you will have a much better idea of your true appearance."

A knock at the door interrupted them before Hermione could raise an objection to being forced to wait.

"That's probably Potter and Weasley," Snape said. "Are you up to seeing them?"

"Just for a few minutes," Hermione said.

"Enter!" Snape said loudly, and the door swung open.

Harry and Ron rushed over to the bed.

"You're finally awake," Ron said.

"You had us worried, you know," Harry said.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Hermione said. She reached out her hand, and Harry bent over the bed to give her a gentle hug.

When it was Ron's turn, he gave her a grin. "What's with the turban, Hermione? Are you doing your Quirrell impression? It's Christmas, you know, not Halloween."

"Christmas? It's Christmas?" Hermione asked.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve, actually," Harry said. "Or it will be in a few hours. It's about two o'clock in the afternoon."

Hermione turned to Snape. "When you said I'd been unconscious for two days, I didn't actually connect that to the date. I thought I'd be home for Christmas Eve."

"Did you forget to send your aunt her Christmas present?" Snape asked with a smile. "I don't believe I'm up to Apparating to Wales tonight to deliver it."

"Wales? You couldn't Apparate across the room in your current state," Hermione said. "I posted it more than a week ago, and you still look like shite."

Harry and Ron laughed. "He hasn't left your bedside for more than two minutes at a go since Madam Pomfrey finished working on you," Ron said.

"You need to get some sleep, Severus," Hermione said.

"Watch out, Professor Snape," Harry said, "she's using her bossy voice on you."

"Actually, at this point I'm inclined to agree with her," Snape said. Then he yawned widely. "Excuse me."

Just then, Madam Pomfrey came into the room.

"Visiting hours are over for the nonce," she said.

"We just came in for a minute, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "We weren't going to stay."

"I'm going to change those compresses, Miss Granger, and then I want you to sleep for a few hours."

"But I've just woken up," Hermione protested.

"You need a natural sleep," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

Then she turned to Snape. "And you need to sleep as well, Severus."

"Yes, Poppy," Severus replied in a resigned tone that had both Harry and Ron grinning.

"I've prepared a bed for you in the room next door to this one. Go use it."

Snape got to his feet. He leaned over and gave Hermione a gentle kiss on the cheek not swathed in compresses.

"I'll be back at seven o'clock, Hermione. With Poppy's permission we'll have a light supper."

Snape turned to Madam Pomfrey who nodded.

"In the meantime," he said, turning back to Hermione, "you must rest, as well."

"I will, Severus."

Snape was swaying with exhaustion as he made his way to the door. Ron moved to his side and took his elbow.

"Let me give you a hand, sir," Ron said.

Snape glared for a moment, and it seemed he would shake off the help. Then he nodded.

"Thank you, Weasley," he said and let the younger wizard guide him out of the room.

"Harry, I need a favour before you go," Hermione said.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked as Hermione motioned him to lean over her.

She whispered into his ear.

Harry smiled. "Where should I leave it?"

"Just put it in the drawer there," she said, indicating the small table by the side of the bed.

"I'll try not to disturb you when I come back."

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry nodded and then left the room.

Hermione slept deeply, but it was a normal, natural sleep, not one induced by potions or spells. When she woke up, she felt much better.

Madam Pomfrey must have had a monitoring spell on her because she entered Hermione's room only seconds after she woke up.

"How do you feel, Miss Granger?" Madam Pomfrey asked, passing her wand over Hermione.

"Better, Madam Pomfrey. The compresses have really helped with the pain. The herbs are very soothing."

"I can't believe I didn't think of that myself," Madam Pomfrey muttered.

"Severus told me that you were upset because you thought you had done something wrong," Hermione said.

"Oh, my dear," Madam Pomfrey said, blinking back tears, "I feared I had made a grave error in judgement. I ... I started thinking like a woman, instead of a nurse. I wanted to restore your breast. I should have stopped the procedure once I realised how deep the damage was. I risked your life ..."

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione interrupted. "I understand. I'm very grateful for what you did. Severus says my face, my neck, and my shoulder have been completely restored. And even my hair is better."

"I'm going to remove the compresses now. Would you like to see to see how everything looks?"

"Oh, please!" Hermione said.

Madam Pomfrey removed all the compresses and used a soft flannel to gently dry Hermione's skin. She helped her into a fresh gown, and then she used a soft bristled brush to smooth out Hermione's hair.

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Although not anywhere near as painful as it had been, her scalp was still very sensitive.

"I'm afraid Filius isn't much of a hair stylist," Madam Pomfrey said as she handed Hermione a hand mirror.

Hermione held the mirror on her lap, and then she drew a deep breath and raised it.

"Oh, my," was all Hermione could say as she looked in the mirror.

The hideous folds of lumpy tissue were gone. Her eyelid didn't sag. Her lip didn't droop and was as full and perfect as it had ever been. There was still a slight redness on her cheeks and forehead, but even if that never faded, with a little cosmetic help, it would barely be noticeable.

Her hair! Hermione touched her hair. It waved softly and fell from a side part down to her shoulders. It wasn't nearly as thick as it had been before her injury, but it also wasn't as bushy.

Severus and Madam Pomfrey had been right about Professor Flitwick's hair styling skills. Her hair was uneven in length and the ends looked like they'd been chopped off with a pair of pruning shears.

"It's ... it's beautiful," Hermione said as she fingered the wavy locks.

"Filius will be pleased that you think so," Madam Pomfrey said.

"I'd hoped he'd stop by to see me," Hermione said. "I would like to thank him for all he's done for me."

"Oh, he'll show up eventually. He was very concerned about you. He didn't sleep much more than Severus did while you were unconscious. When you finally awakened, he was quite overcome. I gave him a sedative and sent him to bed," she said with a small smile.

"Now, would you like to see your breast?"

"Yes."

Madam Pomfrey carefully lifted Hermione's gown.

Hermione drew a deep breath and looked down.

The smooth skin that covered her chest and the top swell of her breast began to pucker a little about halfway to her nipple. The puckering was a little worse closer to her nipple, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before the procedure.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do a better job of it," Madam Pomfrey said. Her bottom lip was trembling and there were tears glistening on her bottom lashes.

Hermione smoothed the hospital gown back down over herself. She reached out and took Madam Pomfrey's hand in hers.

"It's wonderful, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione declared. "I'll even be able to wear a swim suit, as long as it's a modest one. It looks so much better than it did before."

"I had hoped ... I mean, you are so young and you'll want to have a ... a relationship some day. Men can sometimes be ... immature ... when it comes to a woman's body."

"The only man whose opinion means anything has already seen me. My damaged breast didn't matter to him then, and it won't matter now," Hermione insisted.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "He's a good man, Hermione. I've known him since he was a first-year. All elbows, knees, and attitude. It broke my heart to see the way his family abandoned him. And then he had to endure the Dark Lord's torture when he was spying for Albus." She nearly shuddered. "He deserves some happiness after all he's been through."

"I think so, too."

"Oh, I shouldn't be discussing this with you!"

"Quite right," drawled a voice from the doorway.

"Severus!" Madam Pomfrey squealed. Then she flushed. "I'm ... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been discussing your personal affairs with Miss Granger."

"You shouldn't be discussing them with anyone," Snape said. "As it happens, Hermione already knows a bit of my history, so you haven't let any of the skeletons out of my closet. I draw the line at you gossiping about me with Potter and Weasley, however."

"I would never ..."

Snape just arched his brow at her.

"Oh, go on with you," Madam Pomfrey said, finally catching the glint of amusement in Snape's eye.

"How is she, Poppy?" Snape asked.

"Hello," Hermione said, waving her hand. "I'm right here, you know. Why don't you just ask me?"

Snape turned. "I want a medical opinion, Miss Granger, not your optimistic posturings."

"Oh, I can see a few hours of sleep have sharpened your tongue," Hermione retorted.

"And yours, as well," he replied.

"I thought you two liked each other," Madam Pomfrey said with a small chuckle.

"We do. Now, how is she, Poppy?"

"She's doing very well. Her heart rate is back down to normal. There is no sign of infection, and there are no lingering effects from the Draught of Living Death. Her neural responses are completely normal, and she isn't having any memory problems, either. She is managing the pain without potions, though I will administer a weak pain killing potion and a low dose of a sleeping draught later. I want her to sleep through the night."

"How soon will I be able to leave the infirmary?" Hermione asked.

"If no problems arise, you may leave on Boxing Day," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Not tomorrow?" Hermione pleaded.

"You will remain here as long as Poppy thinks you should," Snape said in a firm voice.

"I was looking forward to something French for Christmas dinner," Hermione said with a smile.

"I will arrange for the house-elves to serve you Potage des Poulet," Snape said.

"Chicken soup? I'm getting chicken soup for Christmas dinner?"

"At least there will be some poulet in it. You could be drinking just broth, you know. You haven't eaten anything in three days. You need to let your digestive system adjust to food gradually. Isn't that right, Poppy?"

"Quite right. Tonight you'll have tea and toast only. As a matter of fact, it should be here any moment."

Even as she spoke, a house-elf popped in carrying a tray.

Snape took it from him and placed it across Hermione's lap. He lifted the cover off to reveal a pot of tea and a small plate with two pieces of toast on it.

"I'm going to leave you in Professor Snape's care for a while, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said. "My own dinner awaits me."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said. "Thank you for everything."

"I'll be back around ten o'clock to settle you in for the night. If you need me before then, however, all you have to do is call my name."

"Enjoy your dinner, Poppy," Snape said. "I'll see to her until you return."

She nodded and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

By the time Madam Pomfrey had closed the door, Snape was leaning over Hermione.

"You look much better," he said, kissing her softly.

"So do you," she responded.

"It's amazing what a difference a shower and few hours sleep can make."

"I wouldn't know about the shower part," Hermione said. "Madam Pomfrey hasn't let me out of bed, except to use the loo. She says I'll be able to take a shower in the morning. I feel grubby."

"You don't look the least bit grubby," Snape assured her.

"Now drink your tea and eat your toast before they go stone cold."

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Hermione asked as she picked up a piece of toast and took a bite.

"I had a rather more substantial meal than tea and toast when I woke up, but I had it in the kitchens. I didn't want to eat a large meal in front of you."

He watched her take a few more bites of the toast.

"That was very thoughtful of you," Hermione said, "though I doubt it would have bothered me. I thought I was ravenous, but after half a piece of toast, I'm full."

"Your appetite will return," he said as he lifted the tray off her lap and put it aside.

"Will your friends be coming by to see you this evening?" Snape asked as he sat on the chair beside her bed.

"No. They're going to the Burrow. They were going to come by, but I asked them not to."

"Why?"

"I told them I wanted to spend the evening with you."

"Potter must have been thrilled," Snape said.

"Harry has accepted our relationship," Hermione said. "Surely, you can see that."

Snape was thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I can see that he is a lot less hostile than he used to be. I can even understand his attitude. He is protective of you."

"Yes, he is. He'll respect my wishes in this case, though, because he knows I've made up my mind."

"You have, have you?" Snape said.

"Yes. I love you, Severus. I want to be a part of your life for as long as you will allow me to be."

Snape took her hand in his.

"Will forever be long enough for you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Will you be a part of my life forever, Hermione?" he asked raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. "Will you marry me?"

Hermione blinked to hold back her tears.

"Yes, Severus, I will marry you," she said simply.

Snape leaned over and kissed her lips gently. Then he reached into his pocket and drew out a small velvet box.

"I know that a diamond is the traditional stone used for engagement rings, but I hope you will accept this instead," he said as he opened the box and handed it to her.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed as she gazed at the ring.

"Since ancient times, the ruby has been thought to have great magical powers. Its colour was believed to come from an undying flame. It was believed that possessing a ruby allowed one to move and live safely among one's enemies. It was thought to possess healing powers, such as the ability to stop bleeding. Albus was a firm believer in the ancient magicks. He carried this stone during his fight against Grindelwald. He gave it to me when I began working for the Order of the Phoenix."

"Oh, Severus ... I could never take this, then. It has been your talisman for years!"

"It has performed its magic for me. I worked for the Order right under the Dark Lord's nose and came through the war relatively unscathed. I spoke to Albus, and I know he would be happy to see you wearing it."

Snape swallowed hard as he remembered his conversation with Albus's portrait.

"The ruby stands for fidelity, and I will be faithful to you, Hermione. It also stands for joy and comfort. Those two things have been sadly lacking in my life, but I know that you will give me both. Will you wear my ring as a symbol of our betrothal?"

"How could I refuse such an eloquent and heartfelt proposal?" she asked.

Snape took the platinum band with the perfect ruby and slipped it on her finger.

"How did you know my size?" she asked.

"I asked your mum, of course," he said.

"My mum? You've talked to my mum about ... about us?"

"I sought your father's permission to propose to you, and he granted it. I would have proceeded without it, but for the sake of future familial peace, I'm glad he approved."

"When did you speak to them?"

"Four days before the Christmas holidays. I caught them packing for their trip to France. I had the stone set into this ring the next day."

"That was before we ... before we made love the first time."

"Our making love isn't what prompted my decision to propose to you. I had planned to ask you tonight before I even arrived on your doorstep that day. And I had planned to ask you tonight regardless of the outcome of your procedure," he assured her.

"I told you that day that I wasn't sure what love was, that I didn't know if I'd ever be able to speak the words ..."

"And I told you I didn't need the words," Hermione said. "I didn't need them then, and I don't need them now."

"I need to say them. When you were unconscious for so long, I was afraid I would never get the opportunity."

He paused a moment before he spoke again.

"I will never be effusive. It is not in my nature to spout poetry or sprinkle rose petals."

Hermione smiled at the mental image of Severus Snape sprinkling rose petals.

"I love you, Hermione."

"There, you've said it," Hermione said.

Snape blew out a sharp breath. "Yes, I've said it, and my knees are still shaking. I may never work up the courage to say it again."

"I will consider it an on-going declaration, then," Hermione said. "You'll let me know if you ever stop?"

She smiled up at him.

"I won't ever stop, but yes, if I do, I'll be sure to let you know." He smiled back at her.

"And you won't mind if I tell you that I love you? You won't get tired of hearing it?"

"Never."

Hermione raised her hand and wiggled her fingers, watching the candlelight reflect from the blood-red depths of the ruby.

"This makes my Christmas present to you seem rather insignificant in comparison," she said.

"Nothing from you could ever be insignificant," he replied.

"And you said you would never be effusive," she teased.

Hermione reached into the drawer in the small table by her bed and retrieved the box that Harry had placed there.

The box was wrapped in silver paper. A dark green ribbon wound around it and was tied in a simple bow on the top.

"My mum makes all these fancy bows," Hermione said as she handed him the box, "but I never quite got the knack of it."

"Something you can't do? That must be humbling," he said.

"Very."

Snape untied the ribbon, and the silver paper fell away from the box. He opened the lid and reached inside.

"The Dashiell Hammett Omnibus," Snape read.

"I looked through your bookshelves to make sure you didn't already have a copy," Hermione said.

"This is a very rare book. It certainly wasn't available at Grant and Cutler, or any other London booksellers."

"One of the advantages of having internet access," Hermione said with a smile. "I bought it on Amazon."

"I'm sure you're not referring to the river in South America."

"No."

"Thank you, Hermione," he said, leaning over to give her a kiss.

"You're welcome."

Snape put the box aside and began to leaf through the book.

"There's one more thing in the box," Hermione said.

"There is?" Snape said, picking the box up again and shaking it.

"Under the tissue paper," Hermione said.

Snape lifted out the tissue paper and then reached inside the box.

"You said you never had one," Hermione said. She was biting her bottom lip. Did he think it, and her, silly and juvenile?

Snape looked at Hermione, the woman he loved, the woman who had just agreed to become his wife, and he marvelled at the turn his life had taken.

She had remembered one remark, a remark he had made in passing a year before, and had acted to fulfil a childhood longing.

"Happy Christmas, Severus."

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he said as he hugged her, the red woollen stocking clutched in his hand.

The End

Author's Note: I took a bit of literary licence with the meanings for a ruby. According to the Service Merchandise web page, the ruby stands for fidelity, contentment, and calmness. I thought contentment and calmness were close enough to comfort and joy to work for this story. Everything else I wrote about the purported properties of the ruby is correct.