"Oh, Marie, I couldn't possibly," Hermione said as she eyed the kitchen full of ingredients to bake an assortment of Christmas goodies from.

"Why did you come home with us then?"

"I," she shrugged. "I just assumed you wanted help."

"I do, and you're offering me the help. That doesn't mean you don't get to bring some back with you."

"That's really very generous."

"Nonsense. One or two more plates isn't going to mean that much more work. Shall we?"

"You're sure?"

"Of course. I wouldn't invite you here to help me and not let you have anything."

She nodded then. It made sense. "All right."

Hermione was at the Prins' home for Christmas. She'd been pretty flabbergasted at the invitation. This wasn't her first Christmas dinner with them, but it was her first Christmas spending a few nights here instead of just coming for dinner and leaving again. Her second year when she'd first been invited she'd been thrilled.

She had been very curious about the Prins' home, hearing those related to Marie and Professor Prins she attended school with talk about it. Hermione went to school with about two dozen great grandchildren (though some were done now and others had just started). So, they were everywhere around her it seemed!

She never dreamed she'd be included in their Christmas, but here she was, her fourth with them. She was pretty sure their Christmas table consisted of close to two hundred. Why Marie would want one more baffled her, but she'd accepted to avoid being one of less than a handful at Hogwarts. Her first year had felt anything but festive, as hard as the headmaster and other professors tried.

Professor Snape was the only one she cared to talk to, and he never seemed to attend holiday dinners. At least according to the elves her first year, he didn't. Draco, Harry, and Stephen all went home to their families, so that left her quite alone over the Christmas break. She wished her parents would find something to do that wasn't skiing anymore, but she supposed they deserved a reward for their hard work all year round.

Cookies, pies, Christmas puddings, and cakes were made with an assortment of fruits from their own property cut up for snacking. They also worked on some of the dishes that could be made ahead of time.

"Do you do all of this yourself normally?" Hermione asked. She was surprised there was no one else here to help. She had a daughter. Hermione supposed she had her own home to prepare things for. She had lots of granddaughters, though.

"Usually. Some of the kids come early and help, but they all have their other families to spend time with, too. So I just plan and assume it will be only me. If I get help, great."

"Oh, I suppose," Hermione said.

Somehow she'd never thought of Stephen, Mark and Meredith, or Victor as having other grandparents, or great grandparents in the case of Marie and Professor Prins. Obviously they did, she knew that, but even though Mark and Meredith didn't carry the Prins name it was well known around Hogwarts who exactly they belonged to. She went to school with Cole and Drake Kaplan who, from what Hermione sussed out from listening to Stephen were foster great grandchildren, but considered Erik and Marie their great grandparents, too.

One thing Hermione had learned quickly. Don't say something you wouldn't want to get back to someone in that family. Not that she had anything to hide from any of them, but you just never knew who was related to them just because they didn't carry the Prins name.

And, other than Slytherin, they were in all of the houses.

Was it weird she was on a first name basis with someone technically old enough to be her great grandmother? (As her parents had her a little later in life, Marie was not really old enough to be her great grandma.) She'd never really thought about it until now. Spending time with her in her kitchen like this. She supposed many would find it odd. Harry and Stephen hadn't, but they knew her not to find it strange. She hadn't told Draco she was spending a few days here. Harry only found out because he'd overheard Stephen and Hermione talking about it.

Marie had always been so kind to her. Really, if she hadn't been in the library that day her first year. Well, Hermione didn't think of herself as a quitter. Her parents hadn't raised her to be one, but until Marie had spoken with her that night. She'd really thought about going home. She had been so tired of trying to fit in. And failing. She missed her parents because, until that moment in the library, they were the only people who cared about her.

To think what she would have missed if she had. She belonged here, in this world. She knew it.

She started when a swan patronus floated gracefully into the kitchen.

"If Miss Granger wants a break from being your personal slave for the day, I have saddled Clover," Professor Prins' voice came from the swan.

It was almost identical to Professor Snape's, but Professor Prins' was more real looking. With Professor Snape's, she knew it was a patronus the first time he'd sent it (the fact a swan wouldn't be in her quarters aside). This one, though, looked … real, like she could reach and her fingers would touch feathers.

"Would you like to take a break and ride?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said. "I love riding. We're not done yet, though."

Marie nodded simply, a knowing glint in her eye. "Well, best go on then, or he will think I have you chained up in here."

She stifled her excitement at the possibility of riding for a moment. She hadn't been invited here to amuse herself. At least not completely.

"Are you really sure?"

"I'm positive. This is your holiday. Go for a ride, enjoy the day! There will be plenty to do if you want to help later."

Hermione laughed softly with a shake of her head. There was no doubt there was plenty to do. She went to put everything on she'd need to ride in December.

"Oh," she said when she made her way to the paddock and stables she'd seen on the property obviously meant for horses. She hadn't come out here until now. It was very nice, very well cared for. She knew they'd lived here for nearly seventy years, so hadn't been expecting it to be so … well kept.

"Ah, she did set you free?"

Hermione laughed softly. "She did. Thank you."

"I figured it was a nice enough day for a ride, you may as well do something other than slave work while you're here with us, or you're liable never to return."

She doubted that, as they'd done nothing but make her feel welcome to this point, and she truly loved helping Marie in the kitchen. Her mum never had crowds of people like they were having for Christmas here, so it was a new experience helping Marie. Hermione loved gaining new experiences!

"She's beautiful," she said, reaching to let the horse, Clover she presumed from his patronus' message, sniff her before she stroked her face and ears.

"One of my granddaughters named her," he said, sounding put out by the admission, but Hermione guessed he wasn't truly. He seemed to take as much pleasure in his grandchildren and their children as Marie.

Hermione merely nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes, she could use a good ride. The trail is clearly marked, and Clover knows the way. If you take the whole thing, it'll take you about two hours. There are a few clearings along the trail large enough to turn around and come back the way you came if you decide you don't want to take that long."

"Oh, but Marie…"

"Can live without your assistance for a couple of hours. Trust me. She's probably going a little crazy having someone else in her kitchen. Between you and me, the break was for her not you," he said with a wink.

He helped her up into the saddle and she took a moment to adjust, get a feel for the horse under her and the reins. The way her feet sat in the stirrups. Every horse was different. Every horse reacted differently to a new rider, too.

"She is very gentle and easy to guide, however, I did put the bridle in. If you choose to ride her again, and feel comfortable enough, she does very well without one."

"Oh, sure," she said, leaning a bit to pet her head. She was virtually all brown and just lovely. He whistled then and two collies bounded to her.

"This is Miles and Sadie," he said, gesturing to two rough collies. "One of the grandchildren wanted to name them Laddie and Lassie. On that, I put my foot down."

Hermione laughed as they both looked exactly like what she recalled the TV character dog Lassie to look like.

"Proof I don't let the children in my life walk all over me. Or so I tell myself anyway. They know the trail well, too."

"Do the dogs stay here by themselves?"

"No, they're at Hogwarts with us."

"Really?" she asked. "I've never seen them." She'd never heard anyone mention seeing dogs in the halls either.

"They are generally in our rooms, or in the Forest. I think they know their way around the castle, and how to avoid students better than I do."

"I suppose if they're used to this," she said, gesturing to their property.

He nodded. "If you need anything, let them know to get Erik and they'll come find me. However, it is very clearly marked. Truly."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome, and I think at our home you may address me as Erik. I have never been your professor, and my wife and I have grown rather fond of you, if you have not noticed."

"I have, thank you. I assure you it is very reciprocated."

"You may say otherwise tomorrow when everyone's here and finds out you spent the night. You will be asked plenty of questions," he said. "Enjoy your ride. She will enjoy having an experienced rider guiding her. It's been a while."

She was about to ask how he knew she was an experienced rider, but he walked to the paddock gate that would allow them to exit before she could even realize she couldn't recall telling anyone at Hogwarts that she rode. Obviously, she must have mentioned it to Marie, or Stephen maybe who could have mentioned it to his grandmother, at some point.

The ride took quite a bit longer than two hours, but that was because she stopped several times to take in what she was seeing. Was this all their property? Marie hadn't told her just how much of the area surrounding their home was theirs, and it was frankly none of her business she realized. If they had this extensive of a trail, though, it must be.

An elf was waiting for her when she returned. The dogs darted off in the direction of the house, clearly having accomplished their task. She worked with the elf wordlessly to tend to Clover post-ride. The elf was obviously used to the assistance, and that didn't surprise Hermione. She'd seen some people treat their elves very poorly, but she didn't get the impression the Prins' were capable of treating any living thing poorly.

She made her way back into the house. Marie had put her up in what would normally be the servants' quarters. Marie assured her that it wasn't indicative of them thinking of her as a servant, merely that they wanted to ensure she had privacy her entire visit. Family members wouldn't use the servants' quarters. So she went there to clean up before returning to the kitchen. One of their cat's kittens was there, and Hermione sat on the floor for a bit to pet it. She'd thought about getting a pet at The Magical Menagerie, but she'd just never done it. She wasn't sure why. She didn't want an owl. Any letters she wanted to send to her parents, she could use Harry's owl, Hedwig, or one of the school's.

"Nice ride?" Marie asked.

"Yes, a little chilly, but it was a nice day," she said, as the kitten brushed up against Hermione and crawled onto her legs. He was purring away. He was kind of ugly with his smooshed-in face, but Hermione found him rather adorable.

"Good."

"Is all that your property?" She felt weird asking the question as the kitten kneaded against her thighs. If Erik had been in the kitchen area, she probably wouldn't have.

"Mm, it is. As the lots around here have gotten smaller and smaller, and the neighbours closer and closer to one another, I've very much appreciated the space we have. Erik plotted it out when we first moved here, and we estimate about two hundred twenty-five acres. Most of that has never been used, but we make it a project every year or two or so to tour and make sure the vegetation and everything is getting what it needs, remove anything that's dead, and we try to replace what we can so that it stays as close to the way it was when we found it."

"That's ambitious. I noticed in addition to what are obviously wildflower beds there are some that seem more purposely planted."

"More now than what was when we moved in seventy years ago. And yes, the kids have all enjoyed adding a bit to the trail over the years. The only rule is that they have to research their choice, so that it won't overtake the natural flow of the other vegetation and things already there. And that it will actually grow where they want to plant it."

"What a great idea. They have added their own personal touch to your property, leaving their mark. What can I do to help?"

"Get yourself a butter beer, you could refill my wine while you're at it, and then sit and tell me what your plans might be once you've taken your OWLs this spring. You've been working for a few years with Professor Snape if I'm not mistaken. Do potions interest you? Or are there other things? And also, let me know if you're interested in a kitten. That one," she said, gesturing to the one snuggling with Hermione. "Is looking for a home and likes you. He looks exactly like my original familiar, Crookshanks. He was incredibly loyal."

She did as Marie asked, dislodging the kitten who wasn't too pleased about that. She felt guilty as she sat at the table, watching while the other woman did this and that around the kitchen. She clearly knew what she was doing though, and her thoughts went to what Professor Prins … Erik … had said. She obviously had her way of organization.

"I don't really know," she said. "What I want to do, I mean. I like everything."

"Mm," Marie said with a nod. "So is potions a favorite?"

"It is. I enjoy, I guess the physical, tangible proof of what I'm doing. You can't see a charm. Yes, you know whether it's working or not, but the work to get there is not physical. I'm just not sure what I'd do with it."

"Understood."

"In truth, Professor Snape is the only professor who does not fawn over me and, in fact, treats me with a seeming tolerant indifference. I have noticed he treats me a little differently than everyone else, except Harry, I guess. I think he knows Harry, too, though Harry isn't sure how. Anyway, I find I like our time together."

"Why is that?"

"He doesn't talk much, so that gives me time to think, or not think if I want to focus instead on what I'm doing. Because I'm following stringent instructions, it's very easy to not think about superfluous things for a while, and that's welcome sometimes. He challenges me, though, when I'm working on a new potion with him. I know he's done it probably a thousand times by now, but he asks me what the potion's intent is and, as I add each ingredient, why it's being added then and in that way and if there are other ingredients that could be used in its place. It's … heady to think about those types of things."

"It is. I agree. I feel the same way when I watch Erik work. He is very exacting, which I assume is where Professor Snape learned it from, but he knows that not everything is absolute. Some potions were created two hundred years ago, or longer in some cases. So there may be things available now that weren't then. There could be things that were available then that may be now but are not as economically feasible as they once were. It's a process."

"What did you want to do?" Hermione asked. One thing Hermione knew about Marie Prins, she was smart and probably could have done anything she wanted to. She'd become the Hogwarts librarian after having her oldest son, who was the Minister for Magic, from what she read in Hogwarts: A History . Had she always wanted to do that?

"I'm honestly not sure I can even remember," Marie said. She didn't sound sad or anything. "Our oldest, Thomas, came a little sooner than we imagined. He'll be sixty-nine on New Year's Eve. We were married the previous March on the seventh. It was a very different time then, too."

"I guess it was. And look at him, he's the Minister for Magic."

"He is. We are very proud of him, of all of our children and foster children. Our second son, Philip, he's a songwriter and has sold songs to The Beatles, The Buckinghams, Diana Ross, Alice Cooper, and so many others. I'm probably showing my age talking about those bands, thinking you'll know them."

"I do," Hermione said. "My parents were in their mid to late twenties in the sixties and they have always liked to play all sorts of music for me. They danced to an Elvis song at their wedding I guess, for their first dance." Hermione smiled at the memory of her mum playing Can't Help Falling In Love , telling her daughter all about their wedding day. Marie got a somewhat wistful look in her eyes, and Hermione wondered why. Had she said something wrong?

"Erik liked The Beatles so he was immensely proud of Philip when that happened. We're very fortunate. Times being what they were in the thirties. Well, things could have turned out quite differently. We are lucky Erik got hired when he did at Hogwarts, and that I was not afraid of getting my hands dirty. It started as a whim. You know? ‘We have all of this land, let's plant some corn and tomatoes, get some chickens and maybe a cow or two. The corn was a project to get to grow here, let me tell you.' We very rarely had to purchase food. I used to have a neighbour, long gone now as she was muggle and sadly her descendants sold the home and land quite a few years ago. We haven't found anyone else magical who lives nearby, so we've stayed rather to ourselves, not wanting to stand out as being here as long as we have. Anyway, I'd give her fruit in exchange for walnuts and other things she grew at the time. I had my own walnuts, but she didn't know that, and I knew that she could use the fruit. She thought she was helping me, too. She had young grandchildren living there then. So I always felt better knowing they were at least getting some fresh fruit." She smiled then, taking a sip of her wine. Hermione saw a blush on the woman's cheeks that she didn't think were because of the wine. "And I just sounded like the ultimate June Cleaver, didn't I?"

"A little, but it's okay. You did very well, and as you say have a string of successful children, foster children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren to show for it. Stephen mentioned you have a great great grandson even."

"We do. Erik and I were both only children, so you can imagine this," she said, gesturing to the kitchen full of baked goods and side dishes to be used for tomorrow's dinner. "Is a little overwhelming sometimes."

"Yet, you love it." She had to to keep doing it. It wasn't even that, though. It was very clear that she liked this.

"I do."

"I don't have any siblings either. When Harry, Draco, Stephen, and I are together and Steve talks about your family. It's just completely foreign to us. I mean, I've been here for the past few Christmases and Easters, but it's not the same as knowing this is available to me all of the time. Harry understands a bit, he has his sisters, but it's not all of this. He told me once that he's always felt as if he wasn't supposed to have sisters. There's eight years separating him and his first sister."

"Really?" Marie asked. She sounded … very interested.

"Yeah. He's never understood why," Hermione shrugged. She didn't want to reveal too much of what Harry had told her. It had been one night when he'd been struggling, debating about staying at Hogwarts for Christmas holidays. "He says Hogwarts has always felt more like home to him. So, in some ways he feels like an only child. That probably sounds terrible. He loves his parents and sisters. He's really close to his dad. They took me to see Batman Forever a little before Harry's birthday because I couldn't make it to his party this year. I guess Mrs. Potter's father was a big comic book collector, and Harry's dad took his collection so that Harry could have it when they passed. He read some of them himself, and became a Batman fan."

Marie smiled then with a nod before turning suddenly to work on something on a counter. Hermione swore she saw tears in the woman's eyes. Had she said something upsetting? She didn't think so. It wasn't abnormal for someone eight years older than their next sibling to feel a little removed from them. Not that Hermione knew, but she could guess. "I know he does, Hermione. It's okay. That's part of being a teenager, I think. Figuring out where you belong. I imagine his sisters are treated somewhat differently than he is, and likely he goes home and most of his toys are gone now, replaced by things his sisters like that he's too old for. Thomas is less than seven years older than Charlotte, but I know he was miffed at the time that she couldn't play with his things with him and that he was expected to play with her things sometimes."

"It's neat, though, even families like the Weasleys. It's so different than what I grew up knowing." She laughed then. "I'm still not sure how Fred and George Weasley ended up being sorted in Gryffindor."

"Mm, yes. I admit I've wondered about a few sortings over the years, but I've come to realize that the hat is rarely wrong. I know Severus, for example, was very surprised to be sorted into Gryffindor. He assumed, because of his mother and other Princes, that he'd be Slytherin."

"I'm glad he wasn't. He wouldn't be my head of house, and I'm sure he wouldn't have given me the chance he has if he was a Slytherin."

Marie laughed softly at that, another blush creeping to her cheeks.

"Well, you have some cookies to bring back with you. You have the entire evening to do with as you please. Erik and I play games upstairs, but I imagine Professor Snape might like a plate of cookies. You could floo to his classroom if you'd like. If he throws a fit, just tell him that I sent you because I didn't want him to be a Grinch on Christmas."

"Oh, I would never tell him that, he'd likely yell at me again."

"Has he since that evening?"

"No," she said. "He didn't exactly apologize either, but kind of."

Marie chuckled then. "I know this phenomenon very well. I'm glad you accepted it for what it was, and were able to move past it. He's a good teacher, and a good friend to anyone he chooses to let in to be that."

"He is. And you're sure…"

"Absolutely. We invite him every year. He's kind of like Ebenezer Scrooge in our family. He gets invited every Christmas but he always says ‘Bah Humbug'."

"Oh, he's not quite that bad. I think he just enjoys his solitude."

"Well, he can accept a plate of cookies." She leaned in then. "Between you and me, he likes my cookies."

Marie showed her to the fireplace that would take her to Professor Snape's classroom. She hadn't really paid attention to the fact she said she could do that a moment ago. She didn't think anyone could floo into Hogwarts except into the headmaster's office. She threw the floo powder in, gripped tightly to the plate of cookies, and took a deep breath before calling out "Hogwarts potions classroom".

She was surprised, though why she wasn't entirely sure, to see Professor Snape sitting at his desk. He'd clearly been grading papers, based on the quill and jar of red ink on the desk.

"Happy Christmas, Professor," she said.

"It's not Christmas yet."

At least he hadn't yelled at her for intruding or something.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve," she said. "I think I told you the Prins' invited me to spend a few days with them over the Christmas holidays instead of spending it all here."

"You may have mentioned it," he said, sounding as if he didn't care.

She suspected that wasn't true.

She'd been at Hogwarts for Christmas break every year so far. While she'd gone to the Prins' before, she didn't stay long because she had to floo from and to the headmaster's office, and didn't want to abuse his kindness by letting her come and go like that.

Professor Snape had to know that. That, and every year she gave him a small gift of some sort. Well, the stick pin had not been small. She still wasn't sure why she'd bought it, other than it just seemed to suit him when she'd seen it.

"We baked cookies," she said. "Marie wanted you to have a plate."

"Mm," he said, eyeing said plate with obvious interest. Oh, he did like her cookies then! Not that she thought Marie lied about that.

"Erik let me ride one of their horses today, Clover. I hadn't been riding like that in quite some time. It was a lovely way to spend a couple of hours, though. Their property is quite impressive. Then I'm sure you're aware."

"And I would know why?"

Her mouth hung open. She couldn't help it. "You mean you've never been?"

"No, Miss Granger, I do not like to impose on other people's time away from Hogwarts."

Something told her that wasn't true, him having never been there. He and Erik were friendly. She couldn't help but think he'd been to the property with his mentor at some point.

"Oh, but Sir, they wouldn't invite you if they didn't truly want you there."

"Granger?" he asked as she finally set the plate of cookies down on a nearby shelf where there was room for it.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Why don't you ever go home for the holidays?"

"Oh, well, my parents go skiing every year."

"And you elect not to go?"

"Mm, mostly. They go for ten days. I was hurt the winter before I started at Hogwarts. Not badly, but someone who was rather a novice ran into me. I didn't break anything, but had a concussion and some bruises. Well, I just haven't wanted to go since then. Silly, maybe, but it wasn't very fun. So, rather than be holed up on a mountain for ten days with only what I am able to bring with me to read, I elect to stay here where I have everything I could want to read at my fingertips all break long. And potions to work on."

"I see. That's all that's stopping you? Books?"

"Well, I suppose. I mean, I miss spending time with my parents and relatives, but they ski all day so it's hours I'd be left alone. And I don't want them to feel as if they have to cut their enjoyment short because of me."

"But you could get thrown from a horse, Miss Granger."

It was a valid point. She was good at horseback riding, though. She was maybe above average at skiing. She wasn't sure she could consider herself that with as little as she had done it recently.

"I could, you're right. A day like today where it was just me riding Clover, I could cast a charm to stop a fall, or at least protect myself better if I found myself falling. Generally speaking, I could do that while riding even with people present, because no one's going to pay attention to me casting a spell while I'm falling off a horse. I can't do that on a slope full of muggles with gloves and everything on. I mean, I expect that you could do that, but I'm not proficient at wandless magic yet. Also, if a horse throws me, there would likely be a reason. I've been riding for long enough I know not to just ride any old horse. Skiing, though, that's a group of people, some of whom drink too much, or are just idiots, that don't care about the fact they could really hurt someone else. Or themselves."

He stared at her, and she wondered if she'd spoken out of turn or too … negatively. His face didn't move from his rather bored look, but there was a glint in his eyes that she thought might just look like amusement. She gave a soft sigh at that. He wasn't offended.

"Valid point," he said. "Well, if you were ever of the mind to join them I could perhaps teach you an undetectable extension charm so you could pack all the books you wanted in your bookbag."

"Oh, that would be very generous of you, Sir. I wasn't aware. I mean I guess I'd heard of that charm, but never really thought what it might be good for."

"It can be quite handy for just such a reason. I, myself, hate going places unprepared for anything. Including unexpected time for reading."

She brightened at that. She loved that he got that about her. He teased her at times, but since her first year, it had been teasing not out of meanness.

"You understand then!"

He nodded simply.

"Well, thank you, Sir."

"So, other than horse riding and treat baking?"

"Marie seems to like control of her kitchen, so she sort of had me sit and talk about what I want to do after OWLs and such."

"What did you decide?"

"You know, we got sidetracked by talking about what she had wanted to do, so I never really answered her. I truly don't know."

"No idea?"

"Not really." She shrugged. She honestly wasn't completely sure she wanted to work in the magical world.

"Working with me has not given you a taste for potions?"

"It has, sure, but I'm not sure what I'd do with it. I don't think I'm adept enough to run an apothecary, and I couldn't work here. I was thinking of the Department of Mysteries."

"Let me guess, Time?" He sounded rather … disappointed that that might be true.

"No, actually," she said and knew she was blushing.

"What then? Brains?"

"Love," she said softly.

"Why?" he asked.

"I see people like my parents, and then I see people like Harry's aunt and uncle. Have you ever met them?"

His eyes got hard for a moment. He did not like that question. Interesting. But why?

"I have met her sister, Petunia, yes. I have not ever had occasion to meet her spouse. I saw him once, I suppose."

"I've met them a few times and they're rather vile, gluttonous people who spoil their son, Dudley, to the point of unhealthily excessiveness. In my opinion."

"Tell me how you really feel, Granger," he said, but again he didn't sound upset by what she'd said.

"And then there are people like the Prinses and my parents. Who live long lives happily, and genuinely seem to care about others. It makes me curious. Have you ever seen people seventy years later appear as happy as the Prins' still seem? It can't be an act, can it? I mean I've caught glimpses of them when they can't possibly realize someone's there. I don't think they've never had a disagreement or anything, but clearly they love one another despite any quarrels that have come."

"You are correct. My parents were not loving in the least. Well, obviously I suppose they were at least once," he said. She blushed deeply at that, which caused him to chuckle. "I studied with some of their grandchildren. I've taught even more of their grandchildren and great grandchildren. I have never in all of my years here heard a disparaging word about them. They themselves have been nothing but kind to me. Both of them. I do not know where I'd be if Erik had not taken me under his wing."

"Then why don't you ever take Christmas with them?"

He shrugged. "That is a rather personal question, don't you think, Miss Granger?"

"Of course, Sir, I apologize, but I know that they really would like you to come. They've made me feel nothing but welcome, and they haven't known me for twenty-five years."

"Is that all, Miss Granger?"

She sighed. So much for talking to him tonight. "I guess so, Sir. Happy Christmas."

There were times she felt as if they were friends, when they'd discuss an assignment or potion. Times he listened and treated her almost as an equal. Then nights like this, she felt like little more than a bother.

"Enjoy your time away."

"I'll be back Tuesday I think."

"You know where my lab is. Whenever you find your way there again is entirely up to you, as this is your own time."

"I know. Thank you."

Just once she'd like to hear him say he wanted her to come, or looked forward to her being back. Something to show he wanted her there. Wishful thinking!

She pulled his gift out of her pocket, tapping it with her wand to enlarge it to its normal size. It would be dreadfully obvious what it was, but she hoped they'd prove useful to him. She'd seen them over summer break while shopping for other books and immediately thought of him. She set them on the shelf next to the plate of cookies.

"Good night, Sir," she said, returning to the fireplace and the Prins home without waiting for an answer from him.

He could be so frustrating at times. There were times she thought that he liked her, thought of her as a friend. She liked that feeling because she knew he didn't befriend many. (Rumours abounded about him because he wasn't married, seemed to have no prospects, and despite being head of Gryffindor preferred to spend his time in the dungeons where his classroom was.). He spoke to her at times about books and plans he hoped to do with his summer. He'd told her of a couple of trips he'd taken with the Prinses to collect potion ingredients. He didn't talk to anyone else the way he did her. He was their head of house, but none of the other students were close to him as students of other houses were close to Professors Flitwick or Sprout.

She'd been almost convinced last year when he'd (over)reacted to catching her kissing Viktor that he'd been jealous. That thought sort of thrilled her, and yet he'd never mentioned it specifically. She liked that there were people jealous of her being able to brew with Professor Snape.

Then there were other times when he was like tonight, telling her she was being too personal. Wasn't that what friendship was? Of course, she'd never mentioned to Draco, Harry, or Steve that she liked spending time alone with her professor, because that would just be weird.

Severus sighed once she was gone, looking at the plate of cookies and seeing the wrapped gifts beside the plate they were contained on.

Happy Christmas Professor,

Maybe next summer you can suggest to Professor Prins a collecting excursion instead of the other way around.

~Hermione

He scoffed at the note, until he opened the first book. It was a hardcover copy of Flora of the Venezuelan Guayana Volume 1: Introduction . The second was the second volume: Pteridophytes, Spermatophytes, Acanthaceae–Araceae . They weren't outrageously expensive books, however, she was a student, and fifty pounds probably ate up most of her spending money. Muggle, but no less valuable, as not all potions ingredients were magically based.

He sighed, taking one of the cookies from the plate as he regarded the books. The Introduction was nothing exciting, but the second volume had what looked to be a few hundred line drawings of various specimens.

He had never been to Venezuela. It would be intriguing to go and see how many of these items he could find himself.

He had no idea why she bothered to get him gifts. Every year. The stick pin was by far the nicest and most personal, but it was always something that made it clear that she thought of him while she was away from Hogwarts.

And he wasn't sure what in the world to do with that knowledge.

Did she feel sorry for him? Did she … like him?

He called for an elf.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Will you please place this on Miss Granger's pillow?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," the elf said, taking the small parcel from the potion master's hands.

"Happy Christmas," Severus said.

"Happy Christmas, Sir," the elf said with a bow before he was gone with a pop.

It was the first year he'd gotten her a gift. He'd always said thank you for what she'd gifted him, but he had been unwilling to cross that line. He didn't get any other students gifts.

What if someone found out?

And yet she hadn't run around telling anyone that he'd tried to deduct two hundred points from his own house because he'd caught her snogging someone. She hadn't told anyone else that she'd ever given him a gift, or that they spent quite a bit of the Christmas holidays together whether it be working in his lab or just reading. In his office, of course. He wasn't about to do anything with her that anyone could misconstrue.

Including her.

Two more years. Two more Christmases. And then she'd be gone.

How ironic that she would comment about finding the Love Room intriguing. 

Love.

It was such an elusive thing. No two people would have the same feelings or qualifications of what makes it love. She was right, the Prinses were an idyllic couple. That did not mean that couples like the Malfoys or Yaxleys did not love one another. Their version of love was just not what most aspired to find. He had no doubt that Lucius Malfoy loved Narcissa, but he'd always viewed it as more of a possessive love. Not his place to judge, as it clearly worked for them. He just knew he did not want a possession. He did not want an arm decoration or a woman who merely did as he wanted. He wanted an equal.

Did he love her? It was really impossible to tell. He made no effort to feel anything for her. He could not deny feelings existed, though. He just refused to explore them at this time, because it was pointless to do so. He knew what his reaction to her kissing Mr. Krum was indicative of, though. It was very different from how he'd felt seeing Lily kiss James more than twenty years ago. He'd known by then, though, that she was not his witch. It didn't mean it hadn't hurt to see her with someone else.

His reaction to seeing Hermione with Krum, though, was entirely different. He'd felt … betrayed . Devastated. And he had no idea why. He knew why he hated seeing Lily with James. His feelings for her aside, he thought James Potter was a prat. (Granted, the wizard did seem to have grown out of that.)

Did he find the witch intriguing? Yes.

Was she intelligent? Perhaps one of the most intelligent people he'd ever met despite her age? Or more accurately, their age difference. Yes.

Did it bother him immensely when he saw her dance with Krum last Christmas? Yes.

Did he think Remus would like her if they ever met? Yes.

Had he felt a rush of enjoyment at the fact that despite being pursued by another wizard she'd still given him something for Christmas last year? Yes.

Did he want to kill the wizard for … tainting her when he saw them snogging last spring? Yes.

Were those things indicative of love?

He truly did not know.

His only other experience was Lily, and he'd been ten and eleven years old. He thought he'd never get over her telling him that they would never be more than friends. She had tried to be nice about it, but that hadn't soothed his ego, or his battered heart. They were friendly, now. He would never care for her choice in husband, but she was happy and that was all he'd ever wanted for his friend. James Potter had matured, too, as they all had. Severus could acknowledge that.

Until now, the idea of … love, of a witch, as a possibility hadn't entered his mind since that day. Honestly, it wasn't just because of Lily jilting him either. His parents hadn't exactly been a ringing endorsement for rushing out to attach himself permanently to another person.

He was still suspect of the old man appearing at his home the same day Lily showed up a few days later "to talk" to him. He hadn't thought about it in years, but he could swear there was an eerie similarity between his mentor and that man. Maybe he just saw that now because, like Erik, the man really did Severus a favour. Who knows how long he would have pined for the witch if things hadn't happened in that fashion? How embarrassed he would have been at Hogwarts to chase after someone who didn't want him.

He had his books, his potions, and the occasional dinner and drinks with his mentor as well as his master. He saw Remus when his friend had time away from his werewolf pack activities. It suited him, though he could not deny that it was a little lonely. He paged through the second volume, wondering if she would find some of the drawings as interesting as he did. He'd never imagined finding someone who would get joy out of such things. Aside from Erik anyway. He had no romantic feelings toward his mentor.

As to his gift to her.

Well, he had no idea if she already owned it, and if she did. Then he supposed she wouldn't consider it much of a gift.

She had mentioned to him during one of their brewing sessions that she was a fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber. While shopping at a muggle record store for himself he had seen a CD touted as being The Premiere Collection of the composer's works. He'd purchased it, along with a notepad and pen he'd seen that had one of the emblems from a show featured on the CD.

He'd never gotten a gift for anyone before, Erik aside. Even he and Remus did not exchange gifts, preferring a good meal together instead. Hopefully, it wasn't seen as a ridiculous one. Not that she would ever say that to him. She was too kind to do so, and given there were no CD players at Hogwarts, he'd never know if she ever played the disc he'd bought for her.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com