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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 32182 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: I do apologise profusely for the delay in updates- but hopefully *knock on wood* all the virui and whatnot have cleared their way from my computer and I will encounter no further problems. But here's the 12th day...just the present of course; couldn't sum up the whole bloody thing in just this last chapter, could I? ;-)

Christmas Eve morning presented a palpable magic in the air, even at Hogwarts where magic was plentiful and palpable year round. Hermione woke with a warm pleasant feeling, her sleepy eyes slowly greeting the soft glowing light of dawn. The faerie lights had dimmed; the little wings closing over the bulbs as if they were ready for daytime slumber now that the night shift had ended. She could hardly believe her eyes, the enchanted bedroom furniture, and the gossamer canopy above her bed; she felt like a princess. With a smile on her lips she stretched, arching her arms high above her head. It was the final day of Secret Santa. Today she would discover the mysterious identity of her gift-giver.

            But not before a long morning of shuffling the students down to the train station. The first train would be departing in just a few moments and she was thankful not have been on morning patrol. A quick shower had her ready to deliver her final present to the Headmaster’s office; the drums were stacked atop one another waiting on her desk in the study. There was no difficulty delivering them as the Headmaster had been on patrol at the train station for the first shift. And though the corridors were packed with students milling about to say their goodbyes for the holidays, and racing back and forth between the Great Hall and their dormitories to retrieve forgotten personal belongings and one last spot of toast and tea, she had no trouble slipping up the spiral staircase and back down completely unnoticed.

            A spot of breakfast was in order before she would head to the main entrance hallway and start rounding up the final bit of students due to depart for the holidays. According to the master list only six were remaining behind this year; four of whom where in Hufflepuff, the other two in Gryffindor. Lost in her thoughts she slammed right into the thick black coated chest and was tumbling backward to the ground when a sturdy arm gripped her shoulder. “Oh!” she flushed, and bobbled on her feet for a moment. “I’m so sorry,” she said and then straightened herself as he released his grip on her.

            “Careful, Professor Granger,” he said with a nod. The dawn train patrol was making their way back into the castle. Over near the door she saw Dumbledore and McGonagall chatting to one another; followed by Hagrid who was dragging a now empty baggage cart. “You are on the later train departure crew, yes?” Severus asked.

            “Yes,” she said.

            “Might I enquire a favour of you?” he asked.

            Hermione nodded. “What did you need, sir?”

            “Gladrags was not open for business when I escorted the first round of students into Hogsmeade. I have an order waiting for pick-up. I also have potions to attend to that have time sensitive bottling needs.”

            She smiled softly. “I suppose I can retrieve them for you when I head into the village.” He was racking up a small debt of favours; first the cookies, now retrieving his dry-cleaning. She found it highly amusing. “Will there be anything else?”

            He shook his head and then nodded a silent thank you before he turned on his heel and headed across the entryway to the back courtyard. She supposed it wasn’t so out of the ordinary but also wondered why he’d taken to asking her; though she supposed as she’d been so inclined to acquiesce his first request, perhaps she was building in his favour. Without further thought on the matter Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

            It was bustling with activity as it always was on the last morning before the winter holiday. Students mixing with one another to exchange Christmas presents; catching up on their last minute goodbyes. And the breakfast feast on the last day before holidays was always a delight with more food than one could imagine and she’d often thought it rivaled the banquet at the start of term feast. Hardly any students took the early morning the early morning train if they could help it; only those whose parents had to travel from afar to retrieve them at Platform 9¾ in London.

            Hermione took her place at the head table and was greeted with a warm smile from Remus. “Happy Christmas Eve, Hermione.” He said.

            “And to you, Remus,” she smiled and helped herself to a generous portion of fluffy scrambled eggs. Three rashers of bacon, bread pudding, some toast, and a steaming mug of tea made her breakfast look quite complete. “I can hardly wait for the big reveal tonight.”

            “Yes, I suppose you can’t.” he almost smirked. “Received any more lingerie lately?”

            Hermione did her best to disguise her blush behind her mug of tea. “No, I have not, thank you. But plenty more jewelry.”

            Remus took a sip of his own tea. “Do be sure to wear it to the party tonight.”

            “I will…if only they’d had the good sense to match the earrings to the necklace…” she sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to find a set of robes that come in ice blue as well as ruby, though I think they clash terribly,” she muttered and then took a bite of her jam covered toast. “What are you wearing tonight?”

            “Nothing that fancy, I’m afraid. Just my simple green holiday dress robes,” he said. They talked for an hour discussing the plans for the holidays, and while Hermione had none she was pleased to hear that her good friend would be given the chance to escape the castle and see Tonks. With so few students staying behind this year the faculty had a much larger lease on their freedom to come and go as they pleased. She did intend to visit the Burrow for a short spell on the evening of Christmas Day; Molly had insisted, and even had gone so far as to owl Dumbledore when Hermione had tried to state that she wouldn’t be able to get away due to Hogwarts needing to provide chaperones to those students left behind.

            “Do say hello to Molly and family for me, will you?” he asked as he stood from the table.

            “Of course,” she ribbed him lightly in the gut. “How did you manage to get out of that?”

            “When one spends an entire semester away from one’s wife and son…” he gestured with hand.

            “Hardly,” she snorted.

            “I beg your pardon?”

            “The mysterious violet haired Ravenclaw student who appears occasionally on weekends in the corridor near your office?” she crossed her arms over her chest and watched his cheeks fill with a crimson stain. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

            He nodded a quick thank you and turned to exit the Great Hall. “See you at the party tonight then?”

            “I’ll be there.” Hermione glanced at the large time piece on the far wall. Another half hour before she would need to head to the main entrance. She only had sixty students on her list, and had thankfully landed mostly Gryffindors. They would be rowdy but at least they would be manageable. Another cup of tea and perhaps a few more sausage and gravy biscuits, though she was already bordering on the line of comfortably full.

            The main entrance hall was buzzing with students; many of whom were already dressed in their thick woolen coats and gloves. She had made a quick trip to her rooms to retrieve her heavy winter robes, scarf and gloves. She stood with her roll of parchment in the corner near the house hourglasses and began to call out names of students who were enlisted in her charge. Several other professors were doing the same with little progress. It took nearly twenty minutes to sort through everything but she finally had most of her students together.

            “Creevey?” she called standing on her tiptoes trying to gaze through the ocean of students. “Alison Creevey?”

            “She took the early train!” a voice shouted. “Had to meet her mum earlier! Swapped out with Michael Rosely!” It was a prefect from Ravenclaw. She recognized the face but couldn’t recall his name.

            “Thank you,” she shouted. “Michael Rosely, then?”

            “Here, Professor Granger!” a timid third year Hufflepuff raised his hand though it was barely seen above the crowd.

            “And Grace Nocturne…” she said glancing at the bottom of the list. The girl was the only Slytherin on her list. “Miss Nocturne….Grace Nocturne…” she called again. And then she sighed. A short fuller figured girl with jet black curly hair was leaning against the banister to one of the staircases; engaged in a conversation with a tall pale boy. “Miss Nocturne!” she shouted and threw a dancing light ball from the tip of her wand in their general direction. The two students jumped back from one another; the Slytherin girl scowled. “If you would kindly join the rest of us please…” the girl begrudgingly charged over and stood in the huddle with the other 59 students on Hermione’s list. “Alright, everyone, if you all have your belongings, and you’ve given your trunks to Hagrid, let’s be off.”

            The trip into the village wasn’t long; she’d walked the path so many times before. And the students were anxious to arrive at the train; longing to be out of the windy snow that was falling from the sky. It had been colder than she’d been expecting and a part of her wished to return to the castle as quickly as possible; the amounting snow was not making for an easy trek up and down the streets of Hogsmeade. But there was the small matter of retrieving the professor’s order from Gladrags.

            She stood on the platform waving to the various students as they boarded, helping them with their bags, wishing them a good holiday as they went. Hagrid slammed the side of the baggage compartment down and thumped the metal door of the train. The Hogwarts Express gave out a long low whistle as steam began to puff from the great engine; and it started to chug along the tracks.

            “And not a moment too soon,” Hagrid said. “The wind is getting’ mighty rough and the snow jus’ keeps fallin’.”

            Hermione smiled. “Are you all ready for the party tonight?”

            He nodded with a great grin that she could hardly see through his snow-covered beard. “Have you figured out who your Secret Santa is yet?”

            “No, have you?”

            Hagrid shook his head. “Though if the strange plants that have been appearin’ outside me hut are any indication…” he grinned. “We’ll all find out tonight, I suppose.” With a heart clap on her back that nearly knocked her over, Hagrid began to depart from the station. He headed straight for The Three Broomsticks and Hermione giggled.

            She drew the hood of her cloak tightly around her head and bent into the wind as she maneuvered through the snow to Gladrags. The bell rang as she stepped inside and instantly her face was blasted with warmth. Hermione took a moment to remove her gloves and pull down the hood of her cloak. A different woman was behind the counter and she didn’t look up to greet Hermione. She was busy reading a magazine, upon closer inspection, Playwitch Weekly. It made Hermione blush but she approached the counter and cleared her throat. “Excuse me; I’m here to pick up an order…”

            The witch looked up and blinked twice as if she’d been suddenly dropped into her currently location and had no idea how she had arrived there. “Sorry, say again? You have to what now?”

            Hermione did her best not to roll her eyes. The witch was younger, perhaps just out of Hogwarts, though her face was not one that she recognized. “I need to pick up an order, for Professor Snape,” she said.

            The witch tilted her head to the side. “Oh! You mean Sevvie!”

            Hermione was taken aback as the witch jumped up from her stool and hopped over the counter like she did it every day. Though the more Hermione though about it; the girl probably did do it every day. “I— Severus Snape… his robes—”

            “Yeah, the great black bat. The potions bloke,” she snickered. “Great nickname, isn’t it?” She began to rummage around on a rack of clothes that were sealed in garment bags. “He’s horrid and a right mean git but my god do you ever listen to the man speak? That voice could bring a girl to her knees…” she continued to snicker as she talked, digging through the robes. “You must be his assistant?”

            “Oh, no,” she said quickly. The girl before her was clearly off her nut. “No, I am not his assistant.”

            “His girlfriend— no— nobody in their right mind would put up with that bat, although I bet he does wonders in bed— you must be his fuck buddy.” She grinned, almost feral, turning around with three garment bags in hand.

            Hermione was dumbfounded and speechless and no doubt her cheeks were so scarlet they were practically purple. She quickly snatched the robes from the shop keeper’s hands. “I am not his— whatever— I am a fellow colleague at Hogwarts,” she said and then quickly turned on her heel and stalked out of the shop. She was in such a rush that she stormed outside and was assaulted with the howling snowy wind; whipping about freezing cold flakes against her unprotected head. “Oh, goodness!” she muttered and quickly dug in her pockets for her gloves and then pulled her hood tightly back over her head. It was going to be a long walk back up to the castle.

            Her boots were coated with snow and she kicked them hard against the flagstones of the steps heading into the entrances hall of Hogwarts. She was grateful to be in the warm walls of the castle; even if they were tall and drafty at least they were snow free. She frowned slightly when she noticed the enchantment over the twelve humungous Christmas trees where the snow was laying gently on the stone floor. But after a few moments she warmed up and smiled; they did like quite lovely, both Hagrid and Flitwick had done a wonderful job as they always did.

            She’d nearly forgotten about the three garment bags she was holding as she began to head up the stairs toward her chambers, though she supposed she should deliver the robes to Professor Snape first. Changing directions she made her way down to the dungeons. It was colder there, but at least it wasn’t windy and snowing. She found his chambers easily enough and once again did not knock before letting herself into his office. But oddly enough the professor was not in residence despite calling his names several times.

            The smart thing to have done would have been to have left the garment bags draped over his desk and departed, but upon her last visit she had not been presented with the time to fully appreciate his library and surely one little look couldn’t hurt. Hermione laid the garments bags on the floor in the corridor but then thought better of it. She dared not venture too far into his chambers to find his bedroom or closet. She thought for a moment and then stepped into the library, resting the garment bags on the chair in which he had sat that night she’d sought him out for pepper-up potion.

            She felt like Belle, in that muggle movie version of Beauty and the Beast. Floor to ceiling every inch covered with books. She approached one of the shelves and delicately ran her fingers along the spines. Old leather tomes, the heady scent of ancient parchment and her eyes could hardly keep up with the titles as she read each one. So many books; her body filled with excitement as she idled slowly around the room, realizing for the first time that it was rather circular. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled. It was a dream; a library so full that it would take her years to read each book from cover to cover. She was smiling ear to ear when she opened her eyes, and again traced her fingers along the spines, afraid to pull one from its place on the shelf.

            “They have taken me a very long time to acquire.”

            Hermione spun around to face the entrance to the library and froze to her spot. He was leaning against the doorway, almost casually. It was not a word that one often used to describe Severus Snape. His traveling cloak from earlier in the day was gone; but he was dressed from head to foot in his traditional black potions’ master’s robes; with buttons up to the high collar and the heavy buckled boots. She could feel the heat against her cheeks as she he straightened and entered his library.

            “I didn’t mean—”

            “It is an impressive library, Professor, one can hardly blame you for wanting to look,” a slight smirk crossed his lips as he approached the chair where she had laid the garment bags. “And I do appreciate you retrieving these for me,” he said.

            “I should be going,” she said quickly and then scurried past him. Hermione disappeared out into the corridor of his chambers and then saw herself out into the main corridor. It had been a mistake to stay and linger over his books, no matter how impressive they had been. She made haste in finding the staircase that would lead her up to her chambers. She needed to shake the man from her mind. And after listening to the crass underling at Gladrags talk about just how sexy he must be in bed hadn’t helped turn her thoughts away from the man.

            As she entered her chambers, and passed through her study she sighed. It really was going to be a difficult holiday if he was going to be staying at the castle. Though she supposed she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing much of him as he was prone to hibernating in the dungeon with his potions. Her feet traveled absently into her bedroom and as she passed through the doorway she stopped. There on her bed was a long wide box that practically covered the surface of the bed. It was silver, tied with an ice blue ribbon down the length of the box and then across the width. What on earth could be in such an enormous box?

            Hermione slowly approached her bed and gazed around the room looking to see if anything else was out of place. The fan was still mounted on the wall, the canopy still strung across the top of the four posters, and her two jewelry boxes on top of her tall dressers. Not that she had expected anything to be out of place. The ribbon was wide and felt like satin against her fingers as she slowly began to undo it from around the box. As she pulled the lid back she gasped; like so many of the other presents she had received it took her breath away.

            Laid out in the box was the most gorgeous dress that Hermione had ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t even so much a dress as it was an evening gown. It was laid against a black velvet lining and sparkled in the light of her bedroom. She was careful as she pulled it from the box and held it against her figure. A fitted corset bodice which flowed into a ball gown like skirt made of sparkling ice blue gossamer lace. The back was cut low and the corset was a scooped heart over the bust line; with two translucent sleeve cuffs that fell off the shoulders which left the dress sleeveless. It was almost a perfect match to the fairytale princess Cinderella.

            Hermione squealed and began to spin around the room. It was an ancient dream come true. When she had been seven years old they had gone to Disney World; her mother and father and grandmother. Before of course she had known magic was real and that she was a witch, but she had been a studious book worm even then. But they had gone to Cinderella’s magic castle and she had met Cinderella; the most charming princess of all. And her dress had been for sale in the boutique but just a touch too expensive for such a little girl, her mother had said. Her grandmother had promised her while they had waited in line for the silly Alice in Wonderland teacup ride that someday her prince would come and bring glass slippers and a beautiful Cinderella dress just for her.

            And now it was happening. She was becoming a princess; first the earrings, then the glass slippers, the necklace, and finally the dress. Plus the fantasy fairytale room make-over and all of the amazing luxuries; her mouth watered at the thought of the remaining bit of chocolate wrapped up in her desk drawer. It was only just past noon and the party wasn’t meant to start until 7; she had quite a long time to luxuriate and think over exactly how she would thank her Secret Santa; and unfortunately plenty of time for her thoughts to find distractions in one Severus Snape.

            She thought it best to start with a long luxuriating soak in the bath. Hermione found the three French jars from the third day of Christmas and filled the tub with the luxurious hot mud as she sank beneath its rich smoothness. Her mind was far from ease despite her body feeling so mellow. Who could have put so much time effort and research into her past to come up with the extravagant gifts she had received? And with the notion that perhaps the enchantment had been a little wonky the only person she was completely certain wasn’t her Secret Santa was Trelawney. And of course Neville, Sprout, and Remus by half admission. And she presumed that Dumbledore did not in fact have her. She let her eyes fall closed in the bath and her mind wander. But before she could stop herself her thoughts wandered right away from secret Santa and right onto Severus Snape.

            She sighed. He had been plaguing her mind ever since he’d seen her in the lingerie. She couldn’t help it. And as annoying as the witch at Gladrags had been; the woman had a point, he did have an incredibly sensual voice. Hermione shivered thinking about the way he could drive a woman mad with that voice during intimate relations. Her luxurious bath was no longer quite as relaxing as she thought about hearing his voice very close to her ear.

            With ease she pulled herself up from the muddy concoction and didn’t even bother with the lotion. She stepped straight into her shower and blasted the taps. Hot water pelted down against her skin with exquisite pressure as steam filled her bathroom. Hermione leaned against the wall letting the spray wash over her face, run down her chest and soak her body. Her nipples stiffened as she traced one hand down the length of her body; closing her eyes and imagining that it was his hand. And that she could hear his voice in her ear, whispering her name.

            He was a sensual man; it was a notion she had given into, not one she was readily willing to admit, but nevertheless a notion that was all too pleasing when she considered it. His precise and calculated movements, his dark and mysterious air, his library. She grinned despite herself as she felt her fingers slip between the slick smoothness of her legs; the size of a man’s brain was certainly a turn on for her. Within minutes she was whimpering, moaning, and trembling. “Severus…” she let his name slip over her lips and groaned as she felt that sensitive spot tremble at her touch; wishing desperately that it was his hand buried between her thighs rather than her own.

            She came with his name on her lips and his image flashing behind her eyes. Hermione allowed her breathing to settle before she reached forward with a shaky hand to turn off the taps. It was wrong, the thoughts she let herself have regarding that man and yet they felt so right. Hermione shook her head, letting her wet tresses run down her shoulder; she would wash them after a nap. Wrapped in a towel she padded into her bedroom and slid the box with the dress carefully onto the floor. She laid the thick towel out across her sheets and for a moment it struck her as odd. When she’d left her chambers that morning her sheets had been a mess as she hadn’t bothered to make them but when she’d returned the bed had been made with the box resting atop it. She flushed a moment thinking that her secret Santa had made her bed until she remembered that during the holidays the house elves would have little to do with there being so few occupants in the castle and that it had most likely been one of them and not her secret Santa after all.

            Hermione climbed up onto her mattress and laid down on the towel. She summoned a thin sheet and slid it over her figure just to stave off the chill of the room against her naked wet body. She would nap just to rest up for the party as she hadn’t had much sleep the night before. What a night it promised to be and despite being exhausted she could hardly wait to discover the identity of her secret Santa.

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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa