Chapter 10: The Christmas Party

Chapter Ten: The Christmas Party

I laid back and felt the weight of Hermione’s head on my chest with delight. She was humming softly, and I stroked her head lovingly. Christmas was fast approaching, and snow swirled gently outside the window to my bedroom. She had been coming here to do her homework most nights, and I warmly accepted her presence. But on this night in particular, she was worried.

“Severus,” she began, “I have to go to that blasted Christmas party over the weekend.”

“You sound as if you don’t want to,” I said warily.

“Of course I don’t!” she cried, sitting up. Some of her hair ripped out of my hand, but she didn’t notice. “I’d rather spend the night with you or Harry.”

“Oh, so now I’m equal with Potter?” I sneered. Talk of that egotistical, little prat always got my blood boiling.

“Don’t go there,” she said angrily, pointing a finger at me.

“Why not,” I cried, throwing my hands in the air. “You just associated me with the enemy!”

“Harry is not your enemy!” she retorted, her eyes fearful.

“I would say so, considering this.” I leapt off the bed, showing her my Dark Mark. I wanted fear; I wanted a reaction, but instead, she sprang off the bed and grabbed my arm, pressing her thumb into the tattoo without a trace of fear.

“Don’t you whip that fucking thing out at me, Severus Snape.”

“I’ll do what I like!” I yelled. My eye was twitching involuntarily.

“Not with the woman you love!” she shouted up at me.

“Who said anything about love?” I screamed without thinking. Oh, damn, I thought. I’ve crossed the line. I’m such an idiot. Why did I have to say that?

There was a moment of silence before she stepped back from me.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

She was walking through my work room when I caught up to her.

“Fine! Go!” I shouted.

She turned around to look at me, her nostrils flared. She picked up one of my best glass beakers and hurled it at me. I ducked, and it shattered against the wall.

“I HATE YOU!” she screeched. She was gone before I could respond.

I wound my way unpleasantly though the crowd, clutching a poorly stirred drink. I avoided conversation and eye-contact. I hated parties. The only thing that lightened my dour mood was seeing Potter entertain Luna Lovegood. The mere sight of seeing him so unseated pleased me a small amount. But when Horace pulled me into the conversation, enough was enough.

As the robust man rambled on and on about Potter’s talent for Potions, I bit back a sour laugh. I searched the kid’s arrogant face, but found nothing to satisfy my questions. I made a few snide comments before I was released to another uncomfortable situation. It was brought to my attention that Argus Filch had found Malfoy lurking in the corridor. Great, I thought, I’ll have to deal with that little tosser tonight. Bloody fantastic... as if being at a party wasn’t enough… Once the kid began brown-nosing Slughorn, I knew I had to take him away from the group to have a word.

I told him to wait in my office as I downed a gulp of my drink. As I left the party, I saw Hermione running from Cormac McLaggen—one of my least favorite students. I hardly had the time to fight another battle, so I strode down to my office. The contemptible arsehole, namely Malfoy, and I exchanged the usual charade. I rattled off my programmed responses and got him angry enough to leave. I then returned to the party to find Hermione and give McLaggen a detention. Oh, the power of being a teacher.

I found Hermione storming up to Gryffindor tower. I decided to scare her just a bit more before reverting to our newly-discovered companionship.

“Miss Granger,” I sneered, “what are you doing wandering the halls so late?”

“Sod off.” Apparently she wouldn’t have it.

“Look,” I began, attempting a new approach, “I’m sorry.” I abhorred the word, and it was only for use on rare occasion, but I was willing to do it just to see a smile cross her face. I was a desperate man.

“You were a jerk.” Her voice dripped with disdain.

“I open the floor to any other insults you may want to sling.” I bowed to her.

“And you could do with washing your hair every once in a while,” she said as though proclaiming that she expected a sunny day for meadow-frolicking.

“Anything else?” I inquired.

“That just about covers it,” she said happily.

“Fantastic, I have a peculiar job for you in my office, Miss Granger; I hope you wouldn’t mind…” I trailed off, leaving her room to respond in a much more welcomed charade.

“Not at all, Professor, I’d be happy to,” a mischievous twinkle appeared in her eye, “assist you.”

I was alone at the castle for the holidays. Harry and Ron had left for the Burrow without extending an invitation to me. I explained to them that I was going skiing with my parents, but I was going to stay around the castle to spend time nurturing my relationship with Severus.

He and I spent the first weekend of the break reading to each other and taking walks in the snow. We enjoyed the surroundings of the castle for our nightly walks. On Monday evening, he and I strolled the ninth floor corridor together, and we happened upon a bundle of mistletoe.

“Hark!” he said, recovering from a joke I had told. We were both somewhat tipsy with laughter.

“Mistletoe ahoy,” I responded, snorting like Lavender Brown.

He straightened his smile and pulled me to him, enveloping me in a warm kiss. When I felt something come between us, I looked down to see Mrs. Norris wedging her way between us, as if reprimanding us for our behavior.

“Quick,” Severus hissed, “back to your dormitory!”

“I’ll just go to your room—”

“No!” he hissed again. “Filch will want a drink in my office; trust me—you don’t want to see that man intoxicated.”

I nodded soberly and began the sprint back to Gryffindor Tower.

Author's Note: I abhor this chapter. Abhor. I only post it because it is essential to the plot. *groan* Forgive the OoC-ness; it makes me queasy.