Christmas Surprises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 51 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas Surprises

Severus woke with a start from a deep sleep by a sharp pain in his ribs and an excited exclamation. As he pushed himself up on his elbows in baffled and groggy surprise, he realized that Hermione had inadvertently dug him in the ribs as she had jackknifed forwards to get to her Christmas presents.

One large pile of gaily, some garishly, wrapped shapes were at the foot of the bed. He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard as Hermione sorted through the gifts, passing his back to him as she did. Although she tried to keep herself covered as she unwrapped her gifts, her bare back and the tantalizing peeks and occasional slips of the sheet were a pleasure to watch.

Eventually, two piles of presents sat on the foot of the bed. As per usual, his pile contained a number of books and a few new Potions instruments, although Harry had given him a Merlin's Sangrail vial containing bright green Dragon's Blood Elixir and a Blood Arts Detection Shale. The Longbottoms had given him a pruning-harvesting kit and a blue-tailed skink in a magical wicker cage. Luna's note said that the skink ate something called Addleknots, whatever that was, that caused something called Muddleknots. He knew it would likely prefer eating flies, crickets, and other insects. Too bad he couldn't use it as a potions ingredient. Worse came to worst, he could feed it to one of Hagrid's creatures or his owl.

Ginevra had given him an Osiris cup with an image of a Bennu bird, that closely resembled a colorful lapwing or heron but with a more powerful body, like that of an eagle, with feathers of blues, reds and gold and a long tail. The Bennu was the mythological symbol of the Egyptian phoenix that represented creation, resurrection and renewal, corresponding with the rising of the Nile and the sun. The implied reference was not lost on him, nor the not too subtle reminder of a previous conversation that year regarding the bird.

Hermione had given him a nice pair of dragon hide gloves and two books, one on Chinese Herbology and another, The Alchemical Philosophy of Transmutation of Elements of the Hellenistic Greeks that he was looking forward to reading.

Hermione sat crossed-legged in front of him, the blankets wrapped around her waist, opening the last of her presents as Severus waited patiently for her to finish so he could pin her down and suckle her pert nipple. Oddly, he was enjoying watching Hermione fussing with the presents and felt a strange sense of fondness towards her. Aside from the physical attraction he felt for her – gods! she was fantastically exciting in bed, exceeding his expectations, growing more confident and sexually adventurous with each passing encounter – Severus was finding that he was becoming ever more... contented... in her company.

She had three more – his: one, a book, The Adaptation of the Greek Alphabet in the Old Italic and Anatolian Cultures, a second, a Foe Detector worn on a neck chain, and the third, which was charmed to be the last one she'd notice.

Her initial attitude towards their Bonding had been frustrating to say the least. He was still struggling with the irritation that he had felt when she had refused to believe his explanation about the significance of their magical connection. But time had lent him perspective. Ginevra had mentioned once that Hermione's lack of comprehension was probably to do with her Muggle background. That because she was Muggle-born, Hermione couldn't fully comprehend the complexity or the expectations associated with the Bonding, nor recognized legitimate legal, social, libidinal aspect of the magical Bond.

Severus sighed. This revelation, and his growing affection for the infuriating young witch, was starting to make him think that spending a lifetime with her would not be so bad.

After carefully reading both sides of the small accompanying tag, Hermione set the Foe Detector pendant aside and picked up the last small present. She opened up the small box and stared at the slit in the velvet-covered padding.

"You have to say yes, in order to have it," he said softly.

She turned and looked up at him in confusion. Severus sighed as Hermione continued to stare at him as if not comprehending what he'd said.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm not sure what to say?" she replied, sounding more like a question than an answer.

She asked me only last night if I intended to marry her, so what is the problem? He used a wandless Summoning Charm to pull her back so that she was sitting next to him at the head of the bed and placed his arm around her, holding her close. "Well, how about yes. Will you?" He was beginning to think that maybe Ginevra was mistaken. Maybe she isn't ready.

Hermione bit her lip as she regarded him, the box held open on her palm in her lap. "Will I what?"

"You know what," he said with an exasperated sigh. Is she just being difficult on purpose or am I wrong in thinking enough time has passed?

"Actually, considering the myriad of possibilities that it could be, I think I'd like you to be a bit more specific."

She was smiling, and either she was playing with him or she was clueless to his intentions. He was reasonably certain it was the former. "I was rather hoping you'd be inclined, but if you aren't, then it's inconsequential." There. Two can play this game. Stew on that.

"Well, it's a lovely box, thank you," she replied, closing the lid with a snap.

Is she kidding? He quickly concealed his surprise at her comment. She leaned forward to put the box on the pile of her other gifts. She can't possibly be this dense. He grabbed her hips and forced her back into place beside him. "That's not an answer."

"I wasn't aware that there was a specific question," she said cheekily.

He exhaled in exasperation. "I asked if you would marry me," he growled out.

She giggled. Actually giggled. "No, not quite."

He pushed her so that she fell over, and he leaned over her. "I quite clearly did ask you," he growled out, pinning her. She stretched out under him, her leg rubbing on his groin. Saucy witch. "So, yes or no – will you or won't you?"

"Hmmmm," she hummed, her eyes rolling up as she considered his proposal. "I might need convincing you're serious about marrying me."

He pushed back, leaning above her, both of his arms fully extended as he stared down at her. Convincing? Haven't I been convincing enough over the last six, well, technically four months? He studied every aspect of her expression, the way she bit her lip and the sparkle in her eyes, realizing she was teasing him. "All right, I'll give you time to consider it," he said and rose off her, giving her every indication that he intended to get dressed.

"What?" she screeched as she sat up abruptly.

Now he was going to play her game. "I do believe your holding up breakfast, my dear."

She scrambled across the bed, dragging the sheet with her, kneeling beside him as he shoved his feet into his pants and stood up. He was amused by her modesty. "What was in the box?"

"I'm sure you can guess," he said as he pulled on his shirt.

"Severus! Stop being ridiculous!" Hermione balled her hands into fists, still clutching the sheet to her.

He could almost feel her magical energy crackling around her and almost hear her thoughts, 'Why was he being so aggravating? Why couldn't he just ask her properly with the ring, and not a stupid empty box...?' He could not help the smirk that crossed his face at her frustration. But that bloody book of Narcissa's, Consigliare ab Hector Savinien de Cyrano de Bergerac, had mentioned the idea as one of its suggestions.

She jumped off the bed and moved over to him, her focus on him while wrapping the sheet around her body. "But I want it!"

"Do you?" He caught her by the waist and pulled her to him roughly, making her lose her hold on the sheet. "How much?"

Her eyes went wide. "How much?" she parroted his question in response.

He grabbed her quickly and turned them as he backed her against the wardrobe door, pinning her. "How much do you want it?" He covered her mouth with his, stifling her comment, inaudible, as his tongue sought hers. His one hand pinned her hips, the other entangled in her hair as he plundered her, ravaged her hungrily against the wardrobe, and she responded. He stopped long enough to say, "Because it comes with certain conditions and a serious commitment," gruffly in her ear as he lifted one of her legs, rubbing himself against her, creating a friction that made him fully engorged and her whimper.

"How much of a commitment?" she asked as her leg wrapped around his waist.

"The rest of your life," he replied as he lifted her other leg, pinning her to the wardrobe. He thrust against her, feeling her wetness soaking into his cotton pants. She gasped, trying to meet him with each thrust to increase the contact. "Forever mine."

"That's what you said about the Bonding," she said saucily.

Grinning against her lips, he reached down and yanked his pants down below his bum and entered her, pushing upwards hard, making the wardrobe wobble slightly. She gasped again, her head rolling back, then forward, her lips crashing back onto his. He tightened his hold on her hair and jerked her head slightly, controlling her, grinding into her with each thrust he made. She whimpered, her nails sinking into his shoulder and arm as he moved inside her. She was glorious, responding back with equal ferocity.

Physically, they were perfect for each other. He knew it; she had to know it. He reached down as he sunk into her and clasped her bum, holding her tightly to him before he turned and dropped her on the bed, never falling out of her. She'd yelped, her legs tightening around his hips and her hands clamped down on his biceps as she clung to him. He grasped her legs, pushing her up as he brought each ankle to rest on his shoulders. With magic, he moved her forwards with each thrust until his knees were on the bed by her bum. Now she was trapped under him, completely exposed to his gaze. Her breasts bounced with each forward plunge he made, the bed rocking under her. Her hair spread out framing her face, her eyes riveted on his. She was glorious. For him, the deep penetration increased the sensations around the head of his cock, added with the erotic appeal of his testicles banging on her vulva with audible slaps.

She tried to squirm, each attempt making her sheath tighten around him increasing his pleasure. Her eyes, staring up at his, showed complete abandonment, as she gave herself fully to him, and he loved it. She closed her eyes momentarily, her lips opened, lost in her own sensations as he ground himself on her with each thrust, his pubic hairs raking her clitoris. "You like this – don't you?" he asked, his voice thick and husky.

Her head bobbed with each thrust, so he couldn't tell if she nodded or not, but her muddled stutter of, "Yes-yes," was enough. She looked at him, straight at him, her eyes so expressive and open.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he purred as she smiled, using the fingers of one of her hands to trace her breast. She squeezed her buttocks, attempting to meet his thrusts, each time molding her velvet warmth into an exhilarating counter... it was driving him on, urging him to move harder and faster. She inhaled and rolled her head back, her eyes fluttering closed, and then opening, her gaze locking on his.

His testicles tightened as an intense pressure built up at his base, his release imminent. She was moaning and squirming, her hands tightening on his arms so that her nails nearly hurt. He didn't care if she drew blood, she was in throes of pleasure and just that thought alone made the pain heighten his own. Spasms began to roll from the base of his penis. She stiffened, her legs now pushing on his chest.

"Will. You. Be. My. Wife," he said each word as he plunged into her.

Her head rolled back against the bed as her inner muscles clamped down on him. "Yes, yes," she chanted. Her mouth and eyes opened, and he smirked as he felt a gush of warm fluid eject from her, hot and warm on his skin, and his testicles relaxed and loosened in response, increasing the tension building within him. She shuddered, pointed her toes, her head rolling side to side and she cried out.

"Say my name," he insisted feeling her orgasm rip through her. "Say it."

"Sever...rus, oh gods, Severusss!" she cried out her head thrashing side to side. "Oh, Severus... gods, Severus... Severus..."

His own orgasm broke, tearing though him, the rushing release of warm, jetting pulses down his penis shaft, made him thrust one last time into her, burying himself as deeply as possible into her wet canal. He growled as he spilled his seed, his hot come jetting out into her.

"I'll hold you to this, witch," he said, still breathing hard. "You're mine." He rested his forehead against her neck, feeling her chest rise and fall with his. He smiled as he inhaled slowly, enjoying the smell of her heated flesh, the sweat in her hair, feeling a sense of satisfied completion as he braced himself above her.

He smiled contentedly watching her recover as well. When the pounding stopped in his chest and she was breathing normally, he smirked at her. "Now, how about breakfast?"

"I want my ring," she said, leaning up on her elbows. She looked utterly ravishing with her hair falling around her flushed face and her lower lip caught deliberately in her teeth.

He reached under his pillow, summoning the ring to his hand and rolled to his side so he lay stretched out next to her. He hoped she liked the ring, but then, she'd rarely worn jewelry while at school, and she seemed to like Narcissa's jewelry, but he had no idea what her preferences were.

She watched as he slid it on her finger with a look of excited anticipation. The reds and greens of the large stone and the surrounding diamonds glittered in the light. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What stone is this?"

"Magical bloodstone, Dragon Heliotrope, Hermione, from a dragon's lair, a very magical stone," he said, examining the ring on her hand. "It derives its name from Greek words meaning sun and turning. I'm told that bloodstone is used for the circulation of all energy in the body and helps to remove energy blocks. It can enhance your healing powers by increasing the flow of your life energy."

"And it's red and green," she said with a smile. "Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"Life and blood," he corrected her. He wanted to be more than opposing houses to her.

"I love it!" she cried out and hugged him.

~H~

Hermione and Severus finally climbed out of bed, at nearly eight o'clock, after a lovely lie in. She opted to wear her new chocolate brown Weasley jumper, a lovely shawl-necked cable knit, and her favorite jeans. As he reached for his usual attire, Hermione handed him the new charcoal Irish jumper that Pomona had knitted for him, asking, "Why don't you wear this?" much to Severus' apparent chagrin, if she read his expression right. "Don't you like it?"

"It's a fine jumper, but I prefer my usual clothes," he said, putting the jumper back on the bed.

She picked it back up, loving the feel of the soft Irish wool. "Its going to be a casual day, and the Weasley's all wear their jumpers each Christmas," she said, not going to give up that easily. "Besides, I think you're quite handsome when you wear jumpers." His eyebrow rose as he angled his head downward, glaring at her as if she were mocking him. "I like the way you look in your trousers and a jumper. More relaxed, approachable, comfortable." And sexy, she added to herself.

"You don't approve of the way I normally dress?" he asked as he buttoned up his shirt.

She grabbed her jeans, sliding her legs into them as he watched. "It's fine at school, but we're on holiday. Besides, you will be dressed in your formal attire this evening. Don't you want to relax until then?"

"Being around Mr. Potter and the Weasleys is hardly relaxing," he said.

She had hoped that he'd be less formal with her friends and use their given names.

"One should never let one's guard down around George or Charles Weasley."

She looked up at him as she fastened her fly. "Charlie was a troublemaker like Fred and George?"

"Yes, Fred and George took after their older sibling, although their penchant for mischief was uniquely bothersome. Charles Weasely was quite inventive as a student, experimented all too frequently, and liked being in places he should not have gone – such as the Forbidden Forest. Professor Dumbledore placed warning wards on the edge of the forest, and he still managed to find a way in. From what I remember he had quite a rapport with the centaurs as well as a friendly association with the merpeople, although I don't believe he became fluent in Mermish. "

"I never knew that," she said as she donned her blouse and then picked up his jumper. "Please."

"Since you insist. However, in quid pro quo, then I will likewise be able to make such demands," he said with a smirk.

"As long as I can say yes or no to the request," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

He laughed at her and donned the charcoal jumper and his black trousers. "You are beginning to bargain like a Slytherin, Hermione."

"Am I? Well, then I have you to blame," she said cheekily.

"You have a long way to go to match me," he chided her back.

Together they descended the stairs to the kitchen, Severus following Hermione with an air about him as if he were descending into the Pit of Despair. Hermione turned to say something to him, and he smiled at her, making her chuckle softly at its insincerity. "It will not be that bad, Severus," she said softly, hoping no one heard her.

He leaned forward and grumbled softly, "Speak for yourself," apparently so as not to have anyone overhear him either as they continued down the stairs. "Whom do you suppose is making our breakfast, the house-elf that calls you a Mudblood in the kindest regard or Potter? I recall that he can burn beans and toast with the best of them. Or Ronald? I happen to know he is utterly hapless in the kitchen. Ginevra perhaps? From what I've heard, she has never quite learned her mother's skills in the kitchen. Or perhaps you are going to whip up some of your famous mushroom soup?"

"How did you...?" she stammered, wondering how he'd heard about her mushroom soup or Harry's and Ron's cooking inabilities. Well, that wasn't fair; Harry was a fair cook, although the first few months in hiding had been challenging because they – she hadn't packed much in the way of food.

"Professor Phineas Nigellus Black, of course," Severus said smugly. "He wasn't only your spy on me, Hermione; he relayed everything he heard and saw to me as well. More so as he felt an affinity to Hogwarts' second Slytherin Headmaster."

"Second Slytherin Headmaster..." Hermione parroted in surprise. "But I thought..."

He nudged her to keep walking. "Yes, I'm the second Headmaster from Slytherin house. Although there are always at least one or two Slytherin alumni professors on staff, since the Head of House must be a Slytherin alumni, there have only ever been two who have risen to the seat of Headmaster."

"But why? I thought that Slytherins are ambitious?"

"The Board of Governors are not unbiased, and the house affiliation is strongly slanted toward Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. There are usually only one or two Slytherins voted onto the board, and Lucius held the honor of singular Slytherin for eight years."

"Really?" she asked. That was another injustice she would have to look into. She'd always assumed that there were three representatives of each house. "But in Hogwarts: A History, the seats should be even."

"Should, but are not," he replied. "Or don't you believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you, I'm just astounded, that's all."

When Hermione entered the kitchen, Ron was already seated at the table, nursing a mug of tea with a small bottle of hangover potion sitting next to him. "Morning, Ron," Hermione said softly as she sat down across from him. Severus leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Happy Christmas."

Ron glanced up, his ears turned red, and he turned his focus back on his cup as if the remains of his tea held the answer to the universe. "Morning, Hermione." He glanced at Severus without turning his head. "Snape."

Hermione looked quickly at Severus, and one side of his mouth twitched. "Ronald," he intoned politely.

Ron looked at Hermione without moving his head, peering at her from under his sleep-messed hair. "Happy Christmas, 'Mione."

Kreacher set a mug of tea on the table near Hermione. "Thank you, Kreacher," she said, receiving a grumbled reply as he carried another over to Severus. She took a sip and made a small smile. "Did you sleep all right?"

Ron glanced up as if she'd asked the most incredulous question.

"Where is Amelia?" she asked, trying again at conversation.

"Went home," he said, drinking his tea.

Footsteps on the stairs made them both turn to look at the doorway. Harry ambled in, followed closely by Ginny, both greeting Severus as they shuffled by him. "You had a lively morning," Ginny said with a stretch, then added quietly in Severus' direction, "Trouble with the wardrobe this morning?"

Severus glared at her, but she hardly flinched. "Why not join us for breakfast?" she asked and walked over to sit next to Ron. "Happy Christmas, Ron."

He only mumbled inaudibly in response. She placed her hand on his back, but he shook his head. "It's all right. Happy Christmas, sis. Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry said, reaching for the milk as Kreacher set a mug before him. "You too, Hermione, Severus, Happy Christmas.

"The same," Severus replied.

"Amelia gone?" Ginny asked as Kreacher placed dishes of toast, marmalades and poached eggs on the table.

Ron nodded. "Can't blame her," Ginny said as Kreacher added dishes of sausages, fried mushrooms and black pudding. "Are you going to be okay?"

Hermione reached for the toast and eggs as Severus sat down next to her.

Suddenly, Ginny jumped up, asking, "What is that?" as she reached across the table for Hermione's left hand just as Hermione was about to take a bite of her toast. "Is it? It is! Oh my – congratulations!" She looked over at Severus with a huge grin, still holding onto Hermione's fingers. "You've asked her?"

"Hermione has consented to be my wife," Severus said as he helped himself to some sausages.

Harry watched the exchange with an odd expression. "Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, finally freeing her hand. He simply shook his head and took a long drink from his tea.

"Well, that's brilliant," Ron spat and got to his feet.

"Ron," Hermione called out to him as he stormed from the kitchen.

Ginny sat back down. "Let him go. It'll be okay. He just has to get used to the idea, that's all."

"It's been months," Harry said sadly. "You'd think he'd be okay with it by now."

"One would think," Severus said softly.

"So, did you get it last night or this morning?" Ginny asked, and Hermione smiled abashedly, nodding, feeling her face warm up.

"This morning? So, when is the date?"

"June," Severus stated and both girls turned to look at him. "As soon as Hermione finishes school," he said with absolute finality.

"We haven't even discussed this," she replied in shock. "And my parents are still in Australia! I can't get married without them there."

Severus regarded her steadily. "And I can assume you know where in Australia?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I assume they're in Melbourne?" she said with a shrug. "My father always spoke fondly about the time he served in Australia. He took my mum to Sydney before I was born, but I thought Melbourne would be safer."

Severus was looking at her but she could tell that he was deep in thought. "I simply planted the suggestion and suppressed all memories of me – that they had a daughter."

Ginny covered her mouth, Harry nodded in understanding, having heard the story before, but Severus frowned at her. "Explain," he said in a low inquiring tone that made Hermione uncomfortable.

Hermione held her mug with both hands. "I read up on every type of mind alteration spells I could; I even bought a few books on the subject by leading witches and wizards in the field."

Severus nodded slowly, as did Harry, only Harry's expression was much more open and encouraging.

"I didn't want to just Obliviate them, I wanted to suppress the memories, bury them deep so that they could be revived someday, but most of the spells removed or altered memory, not suppressed them. I found one that segregated memories so that they could be bound, like being boxed up or contained, and when added to the Forgetfulness Charm was supposed to..."

"Binding your parents' memories to what?" Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. "Let me get this straight, you read about the spells and applied them without knowing precisely what you were doing?"

"I researched this very carefully! It was very clear in the book how to do it, and the execution, the wand movement, the after glow effect before the memories were blocked... the radiant glow around the ears was a dim yellow, which I suppose is a butter soft glow like the book said..." She slumped a bit in her seat. "I know it sounds horrible, but I needed to do something!"

Severus exhaled as he shook his head. "When we get back to the castle, you will pull out all the memories you have of the spells, which books and exactly what you did, and I'll review it in the Pensieve. Memory binding spells are to lock certain tragic events and memories within you, by binding them to your magical core, thus creating a type of magical shield. Your parents are not magical, Hermione, you could very well have eliminated all memories of you irrevocably."

"I'm sure that the wizards in the Obliviator's office can sort it out," Harry said, looking hopeful. "It sounds like the spell worked."

"Once I have the memories pulled, maybe we can consult with the Obliviators," Hermione said, and Severus nodded once, but he looked skeptical.

"Perhaps," he said softly. "Once we see the sources and the incantations, I'll know more. For now, let's not worry about it."

"So June, then?" Ginny asked. "Do you know what type of wedding you want?"

Hermione shook her head. "Simple, family and friends – no Rita Skeeter."

"I can assure you she will not be in attendance," Severus stated firmly. "And that nosy wench at the Ministry will hear about it after the fact as well, if I have my way."

"Won't your engagement show up on the magical register?" Harry asked. "It did for Neville and Luna, apparently. Maggie Whitmire sent us more forms, demanding that we set our wedding date."

Severus smirked. "That bothersome witch sends me notices weekly. So we can expect that old gossipmonger to alert the Prophet the day after Boxing day."

"Do you know where you want to have the wedding?" Ginny asked, ignoring Severus' comment.

Hermione shrugged. "I dunno, a small church wedding, possibly. I don't know much about wizarding weddings, only Muggle ones."

"My great-grandfather offered his house," Severus stated, "and you have accepted."

"I've what?" Hermione gasped, nearly spitting out her eggs, and even Harry looked up in surprise.

"He has offered and you accepted," Severus stated.

"I did no such thing," Hermione said, putting down her fork. "I mean it's a lovely offer, and I appreciate him doing so, but we've not discussed it."

"Yesterday – you didn't decline," Severus stated. "Neither did you accept, but by not answering – you've conceded to his request."

Ginny shrugged, smiling at Hermione. "It is tradition to have the wedding at home, unless it's a huge, formal affair; then there are the Corneille's botanical gardens and ballroom, the Hertford-Wintringham Court, or Thurkell Park... So what's his house like, Severus' great-grandfather?"

"You could have it here," Harry suggested, then shrugged when Ginny gave him an odd look. "I was merely suggesting... I'm sure that it would be all right. If not, we could have it at our house – whichever one you pick, Gin."

Hermione smiled at Harry. "Still deciding, are you?"

"It's a big decision," Harry said, stabbing his eggs with his fork.

"Scotland, on the Western Coast up near the Kyles of Bute is absolutely gorgeous," Ginny exclaimed with a smile, "but the house is smaller. I want kids, and so does Harry, only we can't agree on how many."

"Four," Harry stated firmly. "Maybe five..."

"Three maybe four," Ginny quipped back, "and not all right away. I want to wait a year or two."

"She wants to play Quidditch," Harry replied.

Hermione nodded. "Professionally?"

"I'm going to try out for the Holyhead Harpies, Kenmare Kestrels or the Wigtown Wanderers," she said happily. "If not, I thought I'd take Healer training like my mum."

"You'll have to work at least three years at St. Mungo's if you chose their program, although five is preferred. The Ehrenreich School of Medicine for Women has a four year, accredited Healer and Midwifery program as does the Elizabeth Blackwell School for Midwifery and Healing in Salem, Massachusetts," Severus stated, obviously aware of the programs from giving career advice as Head of House for sixteen years. Harry frowned at him for that suggestion, making Hermione chuckle inaudibly. Ginny would not leave England, even to attend the best Healer program in the wizarding world.

"If you want, I can write you a letter of recommendation," Severus offered.

"Thank you," Ginny said with a huge smile. "I'll let you know if I decide on applying." She turned to face Hermione. "So, you never said what Mr. Prince's house is like."

"I suppose you want to go see it?" Hermione asked, then smirked. "I could take you sometime."

"Not without invitation and not without my permission," Severus said sharply. "And you will not leave the school grounds without notification."

Hermione rolled her eyes and emitted a frustrated sigh at his overly protective attitude.

Harry pointed his fork at Hermione. "He's right, don't go wandering about without telling someone. You're still a target, Hermione. We haven't apprehended all of the rogue Death Eaters."

"How many are there left?" Hermione asked, wondering if Dragen had been caught. But then, she hadn't read anything about him in the papers, just a few suspected occurrences and an occasional robbery.

"Enough," Harry said. "The problem is that we don't know who they all are, and there are still five in hiding that we know of. Also, there were supporters who have slipped by unnoticed, and there are people missing – or in hiding – ones we're not sure about. It's not safe."

"But if you're having the wedding there, we'll need to see the place, discuss where you want things and where to have the reception. And we'll have to make a guest list," Ginny said. "That's if you want my help. June is only six months away, and we still have NEWT projects to do."

"Of course I want your help," Hermione said, thinking that she should ask Mrs. Weasley as well if she'd be inclined to help her. She turned to Severus. "Is that what you want, to have it at Mr. Prince's home?"

He set down his mug. "Where we marry is of little matter to me. However, having the wedding at his home would follow certain traditions and is to be expected. If you don't like his home, we can consider other venues, but a decision should be made soon if you want to rent one of the formal gardens."

Ginny clasped her hands together in glee. "So you and I get to make a list of all the details you want to have and whom you want to invite. Severus, we'll need your list..."

"Naturally," he replied, although Hermione was certain he would not be involved in the details.

---

The Weasleys arrived shortly after breakfast. Hermione tried not to think about the situation with her parents and focused on the pleasure of seeing all the Weasleys under one roof. Even Charlie had used an international Portkey to spend Christmas with his family, and Harry had invited the Tonks since he'd wanted to see his godson, Teddy.

The morning was going along pleasantly. Mrs. Weasley had congratulated her and Severus on their engagement politely enough, but her smile didn't exactly reach her eyes, which made Hermione second-guess asking her help on her wedding. Mr. Weasley and Bill had congratulated them as Fleur complimented Hermione on her ring and offered her wedding tips, for which Hermione thanked her politely, quickly changing the subject. George offered to help with decorations and entertainment, which made Severus narrow his eyes at him. Hermione thanked him, promising to discuss it, but she was apprehensive about accepting anything that wasn't approved by Severus first. Ron stayed at the back of the room by the fireplace, sipping on hot-spiced cider.

Hermione and Ginny were playing with Teddy on the carpet while Mr. and Mrs. Tonks spoke to Severus. George, Fleur and Angelina were talking with Mrs. Weasley while Bill bounced Victoire on his knee, talking to his dad and Percy. George, ever the prankster, had brought trick wands for Victoire and Teddy, which changed the color of whatever the children touched into its complimentary color, such as changing the parts of Bill's blue jumper orange wherever Victoire tapped him. Teddy was having fun watching the space on the carpet before him, changing the greens to red, the black to white, and the beige to purple and back. Ron, Charlie and Harry were talking about Quidditch.

George got up and walked over to Harry, then said something to Ron and Charlie. Hermione watched the guys, trying not to give anything away in her expression, lest Ginny get suspicious. Harry nodded, summoning a gold box with a red ribbon out from under the tree with his wand. Ginny looked up, smiling as she rose to her feet, and Bill jerked his head at Percy, who excused himself to join his brothers.

Harry walked across the room holding the box, the Weasley brothers standing behind him, all smiling. Hermione expected him to hand it to Ginny, but instead he handed it to Mrs. Weasley as Ginny clasped Harry's free hand. "Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, this is for the both of you," he said with an odd smile on his face. Ginny looked lovingly at Harry, holding his hand in two of hers, then looked at her parents. "It's from Ginny and me."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both looked at him: Mrs. Weasley with apparent joy at the anticipation, while Mr. Weasley's gaze flickered over each of his sons with curious suspicion or looks of speculation. Mrs. Weasley opened the box, folded back the multiple layers of tissue paper and withdrew an elaborate tassel with a large, gold key on the cord. "I don't understand?" she asked, holding it and turning it to make the strands swing.

Hermione watched Harry and Ginny, their twin expressions a mixture of mischief and conspiracy. "Ginny and I talked it over and, well, we decided to gift you this house," Harry said proudly.

Mrs. Weasley's hand dropped to her lap in shocked disbelief while Mr. Weasley gaped in shock for a second, then quickly recovered. "Harry, we could not possibly accept this house from you. Where will you live?" he asked.

Harry's grin changed into a modest smile. "Well, in light of Sirius' innocence and his contribution to the war – Minister Shacklebolt..." Bill nodded to Harry to which Harry answered in kind, then turned back to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, "reinstated all of Sirius Black's former property to his estate as well as retribution for all rents and interest made on his property. Apparently, Sirius had another house besides this one – one that he inherited from his Uncle Alphard in Scotland, on the Western Coast up near the Kyles of Bute."

Hermione looked at Severus, but she couldn't read his expression, and wondered what he was thinking.

Harry ducked his head and smiled a little ruefully, running his fingers through his hair. "It looks like I have got two more properties," he said and blushed. "I've got my mum and dad's house in Glasbury, Grimmauld Place and this other place called Wyvern Hallow, too."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ginny with a sly smile. The house they had found in Glasbury over the summer had been the wrong house. The Potter's home had still been under the Fidelius Charm. In true wizarding fashion, the old envelope had said, James Potter, Drake Cottage, Olde River Road, Glasbury-on-Wye. However, Harry had told her that, following the floods in the mid seventeenth century, the River Wye had changed course, and the road that followed the River Wye had been washed away, a new road had been made, and the old one apparently forgotten by the Muggles in the area.

Ginny smiled broadly at Harry, then turned to her parents as Harry added, "So, we are giving you this house – Grimmauld Place – to live. Besides, you have a large extended family – of which you've made me a part of – and need a house. So, this one is yours."

The sounds of shock and confused joy filled the drawing room. "Harry, you can't be serious?" Mr. Weasley asked in awe.

"We most certainly can," Ginny stated. "Besides, Uncle Alphard's home is quite large – five bedrooms and the Potter's home, Drake Cottage, has, erm, quite a few, so we have to choose which home to keep."

"Seems Potter forgot someone in these plans of his," Severus said softly. When Hermione turned to look at him, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and grasped Severus' arm.

Kreacher was standing in the entry, shaking like a leaf, his ears folded back, and his huge eyes wide with worry. The plates of Christmas biscuits on the tray in his hands were rattling, making some of the biscuits fall onto the floor.

"Harry, there is someone you haven't considered," Hermione said softly.

Harry and Ginny turned around.

Harry walked over to Kreacher, gently took the tray from his hands and passed it to Ginny. He guided the worried house-elf to sit on an ottoman and then sat on the chair facing him. "Kreacher, I don't know how this works. I know you are bound to serve one family – and you've been serving this house for longer than I care to know. The thing is, it's – well, Ginny and I prefer a smaller home, one with enough land around it to have a garden and a crup... and the house in Scotland fits us – as does my grandparent's house. I'd understand if you didn't want to leave this place, so I propose this to you – my gift to you. You may choose. You can stay here in your home and serve out your years here looking after my friends, well, my in-laws, or come with Ginny and me where we chose to live."

"Kreacher is to be given to new masters?" The house-elf looked utterly stricken. "Kreacher has not pleased his new Master?"

"Kreacher, you have pleased me. You've protected my home during the war, and you've been a loyal servant and a great house-elf," he said.

Harry pointedly ignored Ron, who'd rolled his eyes, mumbling, "After he got the locket," and George's muffled cough behind his fist.

Hermione glared at them and then looked at Harry and Kreacher again.

The house-elf looked devastated, conflicted... his ears twitched, his lips trembled... he looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. "Kreacher does not haves any home but my mistress' home," he croaked, his voice gravely.

Hermione knew that he meant Mrs. Black – the portrait of Mrs. Black – the one Harry had removed during the renovations.

"My grandparent's house in Glasbury is nice, as is my home on the Kyles of Bute," Harry said sympathetically as if to a child who didn't want to leave his friends. Hermione's heart ached for the elf. "Nothing is set until Ginny finishes school. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will be moving into the master suite, and Ron and I will be staying..."

"Here," Mrs. Weasley insisted firmly. "We can't live in this huge house all by ourselves."

"Molly, it would be no different than if the Burrow was still standing," Mr. Weasley said kindly. "But you know as well as I do, the kids will all come and stay with us from time to time."

Mrs. Weasley would not hear it. "Besides, you've put so much into the house – I couldn't possibly..."

"Mum, you have a few sons, remember?" Charlie said with a smile, and both Percy and George grinned proudly. "I've known since the end of the war; Harry intended to give you this house all along."

Bill nodded. "When the Re-compensation and Confiscated Property bill passed, Harry approached Kingsley, Percy and me about the houses, and we discovered the location of the Potter's home as well."

Charlie touched Percy's shoulder. "Besides, it's a historical wizarding site, so it also qualified for the renovation funds from the Ministry for property damage caused by the war."

"Mung had ransacked the house the summer of 1996," Harry stated, "and Yaxley and friends had blasted the walls of the place during the war – when he'd tried to bring his Death Eater pals inside. The downstairs needed considerable repairs."

"Then all of us started helping him fix this place up. It's to be called Phoenix House in memory of the Order of the Phoenix," George stated. "So, we all pitched in."

Hermione was both proud and overwhelmed by the boys' thoughtfulness. She looked over at Severus, but he was simply watching the scene with a bemused expression.

Mrs. Weasley rose and hugged each of her sons, Harry included, and Ginny as Mr. Weasley shook each of their hands, thanking them sincerely.

George nudged Harry gently in the ribs. "Go on – now or never, mate."

"Might as well, since it seems to be the day for it," Ron said, looking down at the carpet, but making not so sly glances at Hermione.

"The day for what, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"I was going to, but..." Harry blushed as he turned to face Ginny with his hands in his pockets. "I...erm, Gin..."

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, glancing at Harry, then her brothers.

Harry stared at her, his hands still firmly planted deep within his pockets. George looked at him expectantly, and even Mr. Weasley had a pleased look in his eyes.

"Do what?" Ginny asked, looking from Ron to Harry to George and back to Harry with a hard glare.

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley, who in turn nodded his head once with a tightly controlled smile. Ginny turned to look at her father, and Hermione noticed that Harry was pulling something from his pocket.

Severus smirked and leaned in close to Hermione's ear. "Looks like I'm not the only one. I wonder if Ginevra will get cheeky with him?"

Ginny turned sharply to look at him at the mention of her name.

Hermione nudged Severus in the ribs as Harry, looking every bit as being put on the spot, knelt down on one knee. "Gin, I know you and I have, well, I know we've wanted to, and all, but..."

Ginny gasped as he opened up the box to show her the diamond ring inside.

"Will you marry me?"

Ginny squealed, and Harry barely had time to stand up before she threw herself at him. He hugged her tightly as several of the Weasleys all clamored to congratulate the couple.

"She didn't say yes," George shouted over his family.

"Yes she did," Ron snapped back, shaking Harry's hand.

"Squealing like a stuck pig is not a yes," George stated.

"I quite agree," Severus said. "But then, there is something about this house and a woman's inability to answer properly."

Hermione scowled at him as Ginny shouted, "Yes," hugging Harry again. "Of course I will. Yes."

"Well, that affirms it, Harry," Bill said, laughing, balancing Victoire on his hip with one arm as he slapped Harry on the shoulder with his other hand. "Welcome to the family."

~ T B C ~>

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Author's notes:

I want to thank Arabellabloodgood, my alpha-reader, to Proulxes for adding a bit of British flare to my chapter, and my beta, DuchessOfArcadia, for giving this a read and helping me clean up all my mistakes. I really appreciate it very much.

Thank you also to Jay for my beautiful banner. I really love it!