Christmas Eve

This is a story by the great Marisol, a German FF writer whose stories can be found at http://www.harrypotter-xperts.de/fanfiction?author=17037

Translated from German into English by Muggline

Disclaimer:

Neither Marisol nor Muggline are making any money out of this. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K.Rowling.

A/C: Once more, ladyinthecloak found the time to read and edit this, in spite of her enormous workload as a beta reader. In addition, she even manages to write amazing fics at the same time! Thank you!

4. Chapter 4

Hermione closed her eyes and desperately wished that Snape had not seen her tears. Why on earth did he show up exactly at that moment? A feeling of shame started creeping up her neck and she felt her cheeks burning. She knew that she could not stay in the garden forever; moreover, she started feeling cold. Therefore, she took deep breaths, and then she called James and took him back inside.

"... thought that you would not make it any more..." she heard Ginny's embarrassed voice. "Sit down, please."

Hermione straightened her shoulders and entered the sitting room. She saw Snape handing his travelling cloak to Harry and sitting down on the sofa.

"Ah, Hermione," said Harry when he noticed her. She was incredibly thankful when he gave no indication at all that something was wrong with her, although he must have noticed her tear-stained face. "Could you please help James wash his hands?" he asked, giving her the perfect opportunity to get to the bathroom without attracting Snape's attention.

As soon as she got there, she washed James' hands and then splashed a handful of cold water onto her face. Looking in the mirror, she saw that all traces of her tears had disappeared. She smiled at her reflection and proceeded to the sitting room, followed by James, who kept jumping around her, squawking, "Hungry!"

"You are hungry? Mummy will give you something to eat instantly," Hermione said. She ruffled his black hair and turned to Ginny with a grin. "I suppose you've heard."

Ginny rolled her eyes, nodded in Snape's direction with an apologetic smile and disappeared in the kitchen with her son. "You insatiable little brat," they heard her murmur.

Hermione sat down on the sofa opposite from Snape and asked, "How are you doing, Professor?"

"Very well, thank you," he deadpanned while his hollow face and skinny body belied his words.

Hermione, however, was wary of making any comment about that.

"What about you, Miss Granger?" he asked. For a split second, she thought that she had seen some amused glint in his black eyes.

"Great," she answered, just a touch too hasty.

Silently, she thanked Harry once again when he turned to Snape, asking, "How about some butterbeer?"

Snape nodded.

"You too, Hermione?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled quietly.

Harry looked very taut and she gave him a soft smile.

"Why aren't you attending one of these Christmas parties which are held every year in your honour?" asked Snape when Harry had filled all their glasses.

Harry grimaced as if he had a very bitter taste in his mouth and said, "I hate all this hullaballoo! All I want is to spend Christmas in peace with my family."

Their former teacher looked him over as if he had never seen him properly before.

A crazy thought suddenly came to Hermione's mind: Probably, Snape had just realised consciously for the first time that, although Harry may be his father's spitting image, this did not mean that he had inevitably inherited all his character flaws. Maybe James Potter senior would have enjoyed all the attention. Harry Potter certainly did not.

"I understand," he said slowly. "These celebrations have certainly become some kind of a bore over the years."

"I can't tell – I have never been to one of those." Harry shrugged and took a sip of his beer.

"I have," Hermione piped up. "There were pictures of you everywhere. They had cookies in the shape of your scar and a vast range of drinks that all had names with something 'Potter' in them. Potterwhiskey and such, even mistletoes that loudly squeaked, 'Just imagine Potter would stand in front of you...' whenever somebody would accidentally stand below them..."

Snape and Harry gaped at her.

"It was horrible," she confirmed quickly and silently berated herself for putting her foot in it.

Harry exploded with laughter and she joined in while Snape deigned to slightly lift the corners of his mouth. Hermione was unable to discern whether he was genuinely amused or simply found her explanations quite silly, but Hermione did not care.

"Did I miss something?" asked Ginny, who had just come into the room and looked them all up with an astonished expression.

"Ginny, next year, let's go to one of those Christmas parties that people throw in my honour, okay?" Harry laughed.

"I thought you hate them," she answered, confused. This spurred even more laughter from her husband and Hermione.

"Recently, I read in 'Witch Weekly' that consuming butterbeer in the early afternoon leads to silly behaviour and ridiculousness," she said with a grin and added, "I'll just take James upstairs to his room; it is time for his nap. And Severus..." she added, turning to look at him. "If they continue making such a fuss, please take their drinks away."

oOoOoOoOo

When Ginny came back, she had Albus Severus in her arms. "Look who just woke up," she said quietly. "He and James seem to have things well planned. They never sleep at the same time, keeping their poor parents busy around the clock." Her affectionate and tender tone, however, put this rant well into perspective.

Hermione felt a pang of regret as she thought about the things she could have had.

Ginny kissed the baby's cheek and whispered, "Your godfather is here to see you, Al." With these words, she slowly sat down next to Snape, whose facial expression, as always, did not give away one single thought. Ginny held out the baby for him, and Snape clumsily took him in his arms.

Snape's features, usually carved out of stone, seemed to become very soft for one moment when he looked at Albus Severus and gently said, "He has grown a little, hasn't he?" But he did not seem to expect an answer, at least not from the adults.

After a while, he seemed to gain some confidence with the child. Hermione noticed with a smile that Ginny furtively released a breath, just as if she had held it because she feared that her son might start crying. Actually, the baby seemed to feel quite at ease in Snape's arms – he was calm and only moved his arms around a bit.

"I... I bought him a Christmas present," Snape said, with a very unusual hint of embarrassment in his voice. He reached into the bag he had brought and laid down on the floor next to him. With the baby safely ensconced in the crook of his left arm, he used his right arm to produce a carefully wrapped parcel and handed it to Ginny.

Ginny's face took a colour that almost matched her hair, and Harry looked a little flabbergasted when his wife started unwrapping the gift.

"You did not have to give him anything, really," she murmured, just before she choked, "Oh!"

She had revealed an animal fleece, consisting of some white material that looked extremely soft and silky.

"Unicorn fur," whispered Hermione with surprise, but nobody seemed to care. Snape must have paid a small fortune for it. As far as she knew, it was quite difficult to even find someone who made and sold unicorn furs. They were very rare and valuable. The sight of them alone reminded her of the uniqueness of those amazing animals.

"Sir, this is beautiful," Ginny exclaimed – obviously forgetting that they already were on a first name basis. Very softly, she stroked the material with her hand, trying hard to compose herself. Finally, she managed to face him. "Thank you," she croaked.

Snape registered it with a nod.

Harry cleared his throat and said in a husky voice, "I really don't know what to say. Thank you, Severus."

"Don't mention it," Snape answered.

To Hermione, it seemed as if he had been worried about the reactions to his gift. Now, he appeared relaxed and almost casual.

"This is for you two," he added after a short period of silence and handed a bulbous bottle of elf-made wine to Harry.

Not a cheap vintage, Hermione thought, but nothing personal either.

"Well, Miss Granger, I have nothing for you." He turned to her so suddenly that it startled her. He smirked, reminding her of the fact that she was somehow out of place here. "I did not expect to meet you here, too."

"Oh, I... of course," she stammered, helpless, once again feeling like a schoolgirl, condescendingly belittled by the Potions master.

"Hermione is our guest over the holidays," Harry helped her. "She is almost a family member."

Hermione felt a wave of thankfulness at these words. Yet, she was unable to say a word, and so she only smiled vaguely and jiggled her left foot – something she always did when she wanted to appear calm though she was not.

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione had accompanied Ginny to the kitchen under the pretence of helping with the dinner preparations.

"Oh, my god," Ginny softly sighed while peeking though the crack of the door. "Did you see that unicorn fur, Hermione? Do you have any idea how expensive they are?"

"I can imagine," Hermione replied cautiously.

"I feel so mean – we only got some shabby old book for him," Ginny whined. "We only bought it just in case – I would have wagered that he didn't come at all."

"I really don't believe that he has noticed at all what you gave him," Hermione answered. "He has eyes for Al only. Did you see how he treats him?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "To be honest, I would like my son back at some point. But I do not dare mention it. In some – well, I guess 'absurd' would be the wrong term – in some strange way it is quite a touching sight. Just look at how he is holding him," she whispered and pulled Hermione's sleeve.

Hermione peeked through the crack in the door, too: The scene they saw was almost intimate. Observing Snape, who held the child and looked down on him in this very uncharacteristic way while talking to Harry, made the hair on their arms stand on end. They asked themselves what else might be hidden behind the mask of icy restraint that he had been wearing all those years they had known him.

oOoOoOoOo

"Have you ever thought about teaching again?" Harry asked after dinner. Snape had eaten with relish, and Hermione knew that she was not the only one to ponder when he might have had his last good meal. As a whole, the dinner had been quite relaxed, with the exception of a small mishap when James had inadvertently poured his juice all over Snape, making Ginny blush and rise.

"Never mind, it's no problem. Keep your seat, Ginevra," Snape had murmured. Then he had pulled out his wand and Scourgified the mess. However, he had looked quite annoyed for a moment.

Probably, it was quite difficult for him to do anything but ignore the boy, simply because of his name.

In the meantime, both children were asleep. Snape frowned for a second before answering Harry's question, "I have thought about it, yes. But I've never seriously considered it. I am rather content brewing potions on demand."

Because I can avoid meeting people that way was the sentence that lingered in the air, unspoken.

"Moreover, I simply could not stand teaching the differences between mandrakes and daisies to another batch of dunderheads. Once in a blue moon, there would be a single student who stands out from the crowd and shows a certain amount of talent, but I would not bet on it. As far as the others are concerned, well, I do not want to expose my nerves to this unnecessary strain."

"In your opinion, who did stand out then?" Harry asked calmly.

"Well, Mr. Blaise Zabini would be an example. I remember him to be very talented," Snape replied.

"You only say that because he was in Slytherin." Harry's smile was supposed to appear relaxed, but Hermione and Ginny knew him well enough to realise that there were first signs of impatience simmering below the surface.

"Oh, no, not at all," Snape defended himself. "I would say the same if he had been in any other House."

"Even in Gryffindor?" Harry asked immediately. Snape waited one second too long before nodding. "Even in Gryffindor."

Ginny seemed to want to say something, but Harry beat her to it. "Is Zabini the only one to impress you or were there other students?" He gave Hermione a quick glance.

She caught herself drumming her fingers on her thighs nervously under the table.

"Well, there was indeed one female student who amazed me, even had me impressed."

"Will you disclose who you mean?" Harry asked with a grin.

For one moment, Hermione cherished the thought that she might hear her own name. A female student – that could only be...

"Miss Lovegood."

"LUNA?" three voices asked in unison.

"During a lesson in her first year, a student asked me why it was so difficult to get to see a unicorn. Miss Lovegood put her hand up and told him with deep conviction, 'For the same reason that you do not get to see Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They simply do not want to be seen by all people, you understand?' Well, that was my first encounter with Miss Lovegood's astonishing... philosophy of life."

For one moment, they all stared at him with open mouths.

"How many points did you deduct from Ravenclaw for this?" Ginny finally blurted out.

Snape's lips twitched in a grimace remotely resembling a smile. It looked as if he had forgotten how to do it years ago and just remembered painstakingly.

"Miss Lovegood impressed me because she clung steadfastly to her beliefs about these things of which she was convinced. Nothing and nobody could sway her. Of course, most – I even claim to say all – the things she worked out for herself were pure nonsense. But I found it amusing. Over all these years, she has managed to tread along a very thin line between complete insanity and astonishing soundness of judgement about certain things..."

Harry, Ginny and Hermione exchanged irritated glances. "I cannot believe that you just said that," Harry murmured.

"Well, I will indeed deny having said such things, should anyone ever ask me about it," he said casually.

Ginny laughed and Harry could not keep a straight face either.

"But what about Hermione?" asked Harry when they had more or less stomached his explanations.

Snape questioningly raised one eyebrow.

"Well, we were discussing impressive students you have taught over the years," Harry jogged his memory.

Snape turned to her, his black eyes seeming to look daggers at her. "Miss Granger..." he drawled.

For some reason, Hermione could not help but feel that she would not like the things he had to say about her.