Thank you everyone for your reviews! I try to reply to the ones I feel deserve a reply, like ones with constructive criticism. I appreciate all reviews though and I'm thrilled you all like the story. Merry Christmas, (late) Happy Hanukah, and Happy Kwanza!
The winter holiday donned white and peaceful. Severus was planning to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas—he always stayed, would always stay. There was nothing worth going home too, and it was preferable to stay here.
He went up to tell Albus he was staying—it was considered polite for professors to inform the Headmaster of their whereabouts during breaks. So here he was, again refusing lemon drops and tea, saying he was staying for Christmas.
The man instantly refused him, said that that just wouldn't do, that he was a married man with a wife and they should be home for their first Christmas. Severus sputtered, trying to come up with a good protest.
Hogwarts would have a more homey feel than any place he lived ever would; just because he was married did not mean he wanted to be stuck with said wife for two weeks with no one else for company; Hermione's friends were staying, so it would be best to stay for both of them. Albus would have none of it, shoving him out the door, insisting he leave, and have a Happy Christmas.
It took much convincing. Hermione did not want to leave, even if the Headmaster had told them to go. Why couldn't they just stay? Hogwarts was wonderful at Christmastime, and with Harry and Ron staying. That made extra incentive.
Eventually though, he swayed her, emphasizing the fact that Albus had all but ordered it, that it would be good to get out of the castle for a little while. So they each packed their things, shrunk them to fit in their pockets, and took the floo to his house, much to both of their chagrin.
They took the floo to Spinner's End. That had been his childhood home and the only place he ever maintained. Even with the terrible memories, going somewhere else felt wrong, and upset his stomach. This was where he belonged, in an old mining town in the middle of nowhere.
Hermione was kind enough not to judge when they walked into the sparse dwelling. Alvar had accompanied them and went to begin making lunch. Severus wanted more than anything to disappear into his lab, but he supposed she needed to know her way around first.
It was a small house and the tour went quickly. A parlor with the walls covered in books, though dim, made his wife smile. The kitchen could be described as 'functional' and the dining room was still set up with three chairs. He had never bothered to change it, but he would have Alvar put the extra away. Normally when he was here by himself he ate in the kitchen. The dining room had been neglected since his parents' death.
He mentioned he had a lab in the cellar. There were two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. The stairway was so narrow he had to go up first, at an angle, and she followed. Heaven help when she got pregnant and tried to make it up or down.
Pregnant? Severus just what are you suggesting?
He shook the thought of Hermione, heavy with child from his mind and showed her the two bedrooms. The master was barely bigger than his childhood room but he had moved into it anyway.
"You may stay here, if it makes you more comfortable." It occurred to him for the first time that here she might actually prefer to share a room. After all this dim, pathetically white-washed space was terrible. A window looked over the street, the window he had watched for Lily out of. She had grown up down the street in a neighborhood of new constructions, much nicer than ashy Spinner's End.
He shook his head again to hear Hermione say she would stay in this room and give him his privacy. He left her to unpack and headed down to his lab.
Christmas would be in just a few days really, and he had nothing ready. He'd bought her a couple things but they were wrapped in brown paper, nothing festive. He had no tree, no lights or wreath.
For a while he forgot about it and focused on his potions. He brewed and stirred, calmed by the order that came out of potion making, by the smell of the ingredients. Alvar called them for lunch and they sat in the dining room eating fish sandwiches, trying to have a conversation.
She went to read after lunch and Severus asked Alvar to find a tree and some holly berries. He searched his mind for Christmases long past when his mother had put up a tree and hung ornaments. Maybe those shiny glass balls he was never allowed to touch were stowed away in the house somewhere.
He searched the house and found them in the attic. His mother had collected homemade glass ornaments but over the years they had been shoved unceremoniously in a box. The colors, once dusted off, came back to life. Lime green swirled with a too bright yellow; soft pink and lavender in dots; orange and red in a leaf pattern.
Alvar came back with the tree late that afternoon. He strung holly berries around the door and the windows that faced the street. Severus pulled down the box of ornaments and, after a moment of hesitation, began burying them in the fragrant boughs.
Hermione had been reading in her room when she came downstairs and found him in his ridiculous endeavor. He heard her gasp behind him and he turned to see her lit with joy.
"We're having a Christmas tree?" She flung the book back onto its shelf and sped over to help him with ornaments. Each one was unique and required a different sound of delight before she placed it carefully on the tree.
"Do you have lights for it?"
He thought quickly. "I thought we might charm candles instead." Candles themselves would easily burn the tree, but with the right charm to both the tree and the candles it would be fine. Hopefully.
"Oh yes that sounds lovely. And what are we going to put on top?"
That caught him off guard. Of course there had to be something to crown the tree, and once upon a time he had made a paper star as a child which had held the place of honor. But that star had disappeared, possibly ripped up by his drunken father or mistakenly thrown away.
"We always put a bow on ours," Hermione said quietly. "We tied a big one out of ribbon and put it on top. Do you have white ribbon? That could look nice." So he sent Alvar out once again to come back with ribbon and then his wife sat, tongue between her teeth in concentration. Finally a puffy white bow was produced and Severus placed it carefully and securely on top of the tree.
Candles were lit and placed, charmed carefully to avoid fire. Spinner's End hadn't looked so festive for decades. Severus felt rather pleased with himself that he had pulled it off and made the dim place feel at least a little more homey, slightly more pleasant.
"Do you have any more decorations?"
More? Severus was caught off guard. He had gone to so much trouble already to procure this, and now the girl wanted more? He thought for a moment, banging around in his head, wondering if he'd seen any more things stuffed in the attic.
"There aren't any more. Isn't this good enough?"
Her lips parted a little bit in surprise but she ducked her head and stayed quiet. He huffed and left the room, the holiday spirit which had momentarily infected him squashed out. They had known a true family moment, decorating the tree together but of course it was not to last.
He ignored her for the rest of the day until they had supper together. Alvar whipped up soup and at Hermione's insistence, occupied the third chair in the dining room. Severus was quiet but Hermione talked a mile a minute with the house elf.
Alvar was a free elf, working for a good salary for his master. That didn't mean they shared meals though. Severus ate in silence, in a bad mood while his wife and house elf laughed together. He huffed and puffed and eventually left them to lock himself in the cellar with his potions.
That night when he went up to go to sleep he found Hermione standing awkwardly in his room. He frowned and closed the door, an eyebrow raised. Hadn't they agreed to stay separate except when mandatory?
"What do you want?" He spat out, irritated and tired. She wrung her hands and finally spit out what she was there for.
"I was wondering what you wanted for Christmas. If you could make a list that would be quite helpful."
He hadn't written down what he wanted to find under the tree for decades. He sat on the bed with a scowl. This Christmas was going to be annoying for sure.
"I will do no such thing. I am not a child and will not be treated as such." He wished she would just go away so he could undress and go to bed. The day had tugged him in all different directions and he needed rest.
The hopeful look fell from her face and was replaced with a line between her eyebrows. "This is Christmas we're talking about. If you don't tell me at least a few things you're interested in then you won't get anything. And I hardly think that's appropriate for our first Christmas together. Haven't you gotten me something?"
As a matter of fact he had, but she was easy to shop for. A book, a sweater, and some perfume were all stuffed under his bed. He planned to charm the brown paper to look a little more festive before he put it under the tree. But that was beside the point.
"It hardly matters if I got you anything. You know what I like—potions, books, the sort." He shrugged and rubbed his temples, wishing she would leave him be. Couldn't she tell he was stressed? Or was she truly that thick at reading other's emotions?
"Are you low on certain potions ingredients? Or should I just ask Alvar? Oh, and I was planning on getting him something, do you know what he might like?"
His already thin patience wore out with this last round of questions. He stood, temples beginning to throb, anger building in his chest. All he had wanted was to come and lie down at the end of a stressful day, was that too much to ask?
"We will discuss this in the morning. I'm tired now, get out." He practically chased her from the room and warded the door for good measure. Finally, he could sleep.
He didn't get to sleep long before Alvar was waking him up. It wasn't morning either, judging by the pitch blackness of the window panes. Alvar stood drowsily.
"Mr. Lucius Malfoy and Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange are here, Mr. Snape. Please dress quickly and come see them." He popped out of the room then, leaving Snape to scramble to throw on his black robes and come downstairs. Of all things to happen and of all times, it would be tonight.
Lucius and Bellatrix were sitting stiffly in his shabby parlor, eyeing the tree. He swept into the room, irritated already.
"What do you all want at this time of night?"
Bellatrix stood. "We're here for a progress report on your potion."
Severus sighed and led them down to his cellar. Remnants of failed potions were strewn around the room but he reported the slightest progress, enough to please the Dark Lord. They nodded, made small talk for a minute, and finally left.
He trudged back up to bed, even more tired. Hermione stood in her doorway, wrapped in a robe with her hair even bushier than normal. She blinked sleepily but stayed quiet, merely looking at him with concern. He shook his head and closed his door, collapsing back onto his bed in exhaustion.
The next morning he woke up late, had thick black coffee and toast brought to him in the cellar, and plotted more ways to not finish that abysmal potion the Dark Lord wanted. The evil man wanted to combine the Crucio and Imperio curse in a tasteless potion which would allow him to control the person, and if they attempted to break the Imperio they would feel the pain of a Crucio curse.
He didn't surface until dinner time where he sat with his oddly pleased looking wife and house elf. The two kept exchanging secret smiles and then realizing it and trying to look normal. Severus ate silently and then went back to his potions, shaking his head at their antics.
Christmas Eve eventually dawned, freezing cold but without snow. Severus woke early and placed Hermione's presents under the tree, charming the paper to have pretty patterns on it. He sat sipping on tea and reading the paper until Hermione surfaced, fresh faced with a smile.
She saw the presents and grinned like a child but wisely said nothing. She asked for part of the paper and they both sat, sipping tea and reading somewhat amicably.
It occurred to Severus that perhaps Albus wasn't entirely wrong when he said they would make a good match. But he shook his head to clear that thought away and stirred up memories of their many arguments.
They were quiet for a while together which was both surprising and nice. Hermione finished with the paper and asked if she could use the floo to visit the Weasley's. Severus grudgingly agreed and asked that she be back by the late afternoon.
After she was gone he slipped into a coat and went out. He bought a couple poinsettia blossoms and made his way to the cemetery to visit his mother. His father was there too but Severus purposely neglected that grave. He only occasionally attended his mother's.
It started to sleet as he placed the flowers at her tombstone. It seemed silly to speak to her as if she was still there, but at her graveside it was easy to feel her presence. So he filled her in on the major happenings of his life—his wedding to the Granger girl and their tumultuous marriage mainly.
His mother had died years ago and although his childhood had left a lot to be desired, his mother had tried. He had been keenly aware of how hard she tried his entire life. She'd protected him, loved him, encouraged him. Yes, there had been times when she snapped at him or said a harsh word, when she was too tired or stressed to bother with a mundane but happy detail of his life. But she had tried so hard.
The fresh poinsettias were encased with ice by the time he finally left. Alvar had a fire ready for him and he sipped on some mulled cider, reading an essay about the latest innovations in potions. Hermione popped back in with flushed cheeks and ice in her hair, laughter still in her mouth. Without missing a beat she filled him in on all the joy at the Weasley burrow. All the joy that was so very absent in their own dwelling.
That night they ate a good meal, bundled up, and went to the Christmas Eve service at a small church nearby. Severus had been going for years, ever since he was a child. Hermione took in the sight of the candles and fresh boughs of evergreen with an almost serene look on her face.
It was a beautiful service which let out at midnight. They walked home arm in arm (only to keep from slipping on the ice and snow) and wisely didn't speak to each other. They said a polite goodnight to each other and slipped into their respective beds.
His nose woke him up the next morning. The smell of muffins had seeped under the door and he followed it after throwing on some clothes. His wife and house elf were pulling piping hot blueberry muffins from the oven just as he rounded the corner. She looked up with a smile.
"Happy Christmas Severus!" And she bounded over like a gazelle, took his hand, and pulled him into the parlor with the Christmas tree.
Alvar joined them with mugs of hot chocolate and a platter of muffins. Severus gracefully let Hermione open her gifts first. She ripped them open and he could see, easily, how she must have looked on Christmas mornings past in her pajamas with her parents.
She thanked him profusely for all the gifts, especially the book. Alvar opened his, one from each of them. A book from Hermione, of course, and a pocket watch from Severus.
Then it was Severus' turn. His wife looked at him happily as he carefully removed the paper from a bottle of unicorn tears, one of the most expensive potions ingredients. It was a shockingly nice present, not that he had been cheap with her presents. Chanel perfume was pricey.
She had gifted him a book of essays about potion making and a scarf too. Christmas hadn't been the disaster he'd thought it would be. Hermione had smiled and laughed, was kind and cheerful. She told stories of her favorite Christmases past and he surprised himself by recounting the one pleasant holiday he could remember.
It was a good day, a wonderful day. At least until they realized that evening, after a dinner of chestnut soup, mince pies and a chocolate yule log for dessert, that tonight was Saturday.
They stayed up late, sipping mulled cider in front of a dying fire. Hermione was curled up with her book and Severus was doing nothing and enjoying it. But he finished his cider, put both their cups away, and she knew to shut her book.
"Your room or mine?" She asked carefully as they made their way toward the stairs. That was a good question he realized. Did he want to do this in his old bedroom that he'd slept in as a child? Or in his parents' bedroom? Neither option was good and he didn't like the idea of making the decision, so he turned to his wife.
"Wherever you would be more comfortable." He had never let her decide before and she looked at him in surprise before asking him to come to her room.
How interesting, he thought, that when I used to lust for Lily I would do so from this very room. And now I have a wife who isn't Lily, my parents are dead, Lily is dead, and the Ministry wants us to produce a child.
A child. Merlin's bullocks, he'd almost forgotten about that.
Thank for reading! Now if you'd be so kind, I'd really appreciate some reviews. Happy holidays everyone.