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On the first day of Christmas	By : h0lden Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 12409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 5
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�Honestly Granger.� Snape said miserably, pulling his scarf tighter around his pale neck, looking to Hermione with a look of none other than irritation. �Of all the time�s we had to come to Hogsmeade.�

Evidently the rest of the wizarding world was obliviousthe the fact that Voldemort could have been out and about. This was Albus� doing; telling Rita Skeeter that Voldemort was most certainly dead. She had published a whole five pages on it, and only few at Hogwarts knew the truth of the matter.

Hermione looked over to her Professor, seeing him sniffle in the cold air and she tried not to laugh. She was after all in a public place with none other than Severus Snape, Ex. DeathEater and current greasy git.

�Well, you did sut tot today yourself sir, if you recall-�

�Enough cheek.� He quipped before she could finish, his breath coming out in clouds in the cold air. �One more insolent comment and its ten points from Gryffindor.�

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, looking in the windows of the passing stores. It was proving difficult to do shopping, as everything Hermione expressed interest in, Snape would scoff at it with ll oll of his eyes and so forth. If it wasn�t that, she would pause at a window with something intriguing in it and Snape would insist she hurry up.

She had worn her best robe, and actually cast a non-frizzing spell on her hair. She didn�t know why, but when spending time with Snape she always felt she needed to live up to some unspoken expectations�and she hated it.

He certainly hadn�t dressed up for the occasion�the hair was still greasy�although it seemed like it had been recently combed, the cloak was still black and boring�although he had added the scarf�and was it her imagination or did he smell of cologne? No�just the scents of the Potion�s lab she was sure.

She glanced over to him randomly, trying to place him in this strange setting. She was actually out of Hogwarts with Snape, and�he was still the same. She didn�t know what she had been expecting� that perhaps he would turn sweet and funny and they could exchange lurid jokes while throwing snowballs at Hogsmeade shoppers? That he would tell her she was the only reason his season had been worthwhile? No. He was snippy and sarcastic and always telling her what she was doing wrong.

She saw him shiver a bit, and was about to ask him if he was feeling a bit chilly when his oily eyes darted out and locked onto her. �What are you staring at?�

�Nothing sir.�

He stood straighter, looking down on her and obviously not impressed with her pathetic attempt at a response. With one carefully placed sneer he spoke.

�Rubbish.�

Hermione felt herself getting angry. Angry at the fact that she was failing in her task, failing in her attempt to buy Harry and Ron proper gifts, failing in everything and anything and most of all�angry at herself for getting stuck with a stubborn git like Severus Snape.

�You know Professor.� She said when he had told her for the fiftieth time to hurry up. She tried to be tactful and non-offending as she spoke. �You don�t have to be walking with me the whole time. I believe you were just to accompany me to Hogsmeade. I can meet you in the three broomsticks in about an hour if you like, I�m sure you�re cold.�

Snape gave her a look that told her she had said precisely the wrong thing, and she flinched under his gaze. What did he care? She was giving him an ample opportunity to get rid of her�

�Fine Granger.� He almost hissed, �I�ve got plenty of thing to do besides babysit. You have an hour. Don�t be late unless you want to suffer the repercussions.�

And with that he had spun on one well-placed heel, in the direction of the Three Broomsticks and didn�t look back. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, sure the man was a genius but what a mean and boring one at that, there was definitely not much to work with.

First stop was the Quidditch store for Harry and Ron, and then perhaps a stop at the frog shop for Neville. Trevor was looking a little sickly to tell the truth. When she was certain she had bought a gift to top all others she left the store, almost weighed down by parcels.

She noticed that it was getting darshe she and Snape had set out quite late although it had been light when they left Hogwarts.

She saw on her watch that her hour was almost up, and she sighed knowing full well what awaited her when she arrived at he destination.

Him.

She neared the Three Broomsticks, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Her hour was almost up and she was positively nervous�what if he yelled at her for being late even though she wasn�t? That was a very Snape like thing to do.

Suddenly a small tucked away store caught her eye, decorated with only a small stream of enchanted lights that flickered on occasion. Beautiful. She walked up to the small thatched door and read the sign that hung on it. What odd hours. It appeared the store was only open two days a week. Today and tomorrow�how did a place like this stay open?

�Niyati� was the name of the store�unusual. The door opened with a small jingle that rded ded her just of how she was supposed to feel on Christmas and she walked into the store, and seeing it was a store of used books and immediately felt the rush of excitement flow through her.

If she were to pick one place at Hogwarts to have to be stuck in forever, the Library would be it. She now passed some of the dusty volumes, letting her hands slip over the spines of the books and came across a small b boo book with gold lettering.

She pulled it from the shelf; it felt almost hot in her hands. She flipped the book over in her hands, seeing the title glinting in the dim light of the store. Hmmmm T.S. Elliot. A muggle poet she believed. She opened the thin book as her eyes fell upon the first line of prose she saw;

Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass-

�Finding everything to your liking?� said a screeching voice next to her ear, as Hermione let out a shrill; �Oh!� and dropped the book. She was standing next to a tall witch, almas tas tall as Snape and she tried not to focus on the numerous warts that covered the woman�s face�

�Yes�� Hermione answered shakily, her heart still pounding, �Quite.�

�Well.� The old witch said with a grin of crooked teeth, �If you be needin� any help I be right over �dere.� She pointed to a wooden stool by the cash register. Hermione nodded, seeing that she was the only one in the store.

Hermione waited until the woman had left before she bent down and picked the book up again. A small piece of parchment slipped from it and fell to the floor. Hermione looked at a moment and then looking all around guiltily bent down and scooped the paper up.

She made out the lines of cramped handwriting, seeing that the writer obviously felt passionate about their writing. The parchment looked as if it had been torn from a notebook and had no author that she could detect. She read the first poem in haste, worrying that the woman would be back.

Love is like magic
And it always will be.
For love still remains
Life's sweet mystery!!
Love works in ways
That are wondrous and strange
And there's nothing in life
That love cannot change!!
Love can transform
The most commonplace
Into beauty and splendor
And sweetness and grace.
Love is unselfish,
Understanding and kind,
For it sees with it's heart
And not with it's mind!!
Love is the answer
That everyone seeks....
Love is the language,
That every heart speaks.
Love can't be bought,
It is priceless and free,
Love, like pure magic,
Is life's sweet mystery.

Hermione smirked at this, which was definitely sweet but not really that romantic. It felt strange though, almost wrong to be reading one�s most innermost thoughts. She liked the quirky poem though�and read several others on the paper, stopstopped when she came to one in specific.

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, red red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips

Hermione felt her heart swell with this, as if the poem were written just for her. It�s words were clear without going into flouncy�she got a str fee feeling in her chest as she read the words, her dark eyes flying over the prose completely entranced by it, reading it over and over. To anyone else who would read it would pass it off as lovely or even contrive, but to Hermione Granger, this poem spoke to her like none other. She smiled as she finished it for the third time, and placed it back into the T.S. Elliot book.

She deliberated�should she just take the parchment and leave? She looked at the state of this hovel of a store and decided that every cent counted.

�How much for the book?� she asked, walking over to the warty witch with the book in her hands. Wart woman took one look at the title, sighed and said dejectedly.

�3 Knuts.�

�3 Knuts? That�s it?� Hermione asked almost shock. This was a decent book, well taken care of.

�Muggle author�s don�t sell much �round here.� The witch said with a shake of pointed shoulders. Hermione felt she was holding something much more precious, and with a defiant clink of galleons on the table she left with something she deemed priceless, leaving the warty witch behind her openmouthed.

Now on the snowy street leading to the three broomsticks, Hermione glanced at the large clock in the center of the town. Oh bullocks! She was late! She ran as fast as her legs could carry her over to the three broomsticks, praying that Snape wouldn�t be furious.

She finally pushed the heavy door open, breathing raggedly as she scanned the room for Snape. She stepped inside, her packages heavy on her arms as a voice sounded next to her ear.

�How nice of you to show up.�

Hermione whirled around to see Snape, looking no furious, but not that happy either�almost�relieved? No. He motioned for her to follow him to a booth and she did, sitting across from him uncomfortably.

He took a sip of his butterbeer, languidly looking to her on occasion and seeing her squirm. Lovely.

�Have you all your packages?� Snape said boredly, his eyes giving him away as he scanned her bags. She nodded and saw him try to sneak a look at her bags.

�Let�s see them then.�

�I�m sorry?�

�Not as sorry as I am Miss Granger.� Snape said taking the bags from her, she was about to protest when he shot her a dark look.

�By order of the Headmaster I�m to check all student�s parcels before returning them to the school�that was put into action sadly after the Weasely�s had left. Fruitless now iu asu ask me.�

Hermione handed him the big bags and tried to hide her smaller book back behind her back. Snape seemed preoccupied with the large accumulation he was now looking at on the table and didn�t notice.

After carefully sorting through her parcels, informing her where she could have gotten them cheaper and ridiculing her in her choice of friends he seemed satisfied. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief�he hadn�t found the book.

�What�s this?� he said suddenly with his eyes narrowing, as he prepared to grab the small bag from her as she tried to conceal it. She pulled her bag back, looking to him frantically.

�No you can�t.� She almost cried. If Snape saw the book, he would invariably see the poems to which he would laugh at her for making such a purchase and all hopes of gaining his respect would be diminished in one fateful evening.

�If this is anything unsuitable for Hogwarts property Miss Granger, I have ever right to confiscate it.� He gave her a smoldering look as he said this.

�Well you see Professor.� Hermione said frantically, as Snape ordered another butterbeer, �It�s a present�for you!�

Snape looked utterly taken aback. �Excuse me?� was she serious? He hoped not�what could he say to that? Hermione nodded vigorously, her eyes bright with hope.

�I got it for you, for Christmas. I hope you don�t mind, I suppose I felt like spreading good cheer all around.�

Snape looked frozen a moment, his hands still reaching for the bag behind her. Hermione Granger giving him something for Christmas? He sat back in the booth, looking to her shrewdly. Something wasn�t right.

�I don�t believe you.� He said as he suddenly reached easily across the table for Hermione�s book bag�what was she going to do?

She was about to say something more, to tell him not to touch her parcel, and the words played on her tongue as she opened her mouth to speak as he reached for his new butterbeer.

As his arm stretched out towards her parcel a sight took her breath away, and she tried to keep her facial expressions neutral but failed miserably as he caught her bewildered expression and pulled back saying, �What is it Granger?�

Snape was wearing the cufflinks.
________________________________

author's notes:

poem 1: was "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Elliot.

poem 2: was "The Magic of Love" by Helen Steiner Rice

poem 3: was "A white rose" by J B O'Reilly (1844-1890)

poems 2 and 3 were found on the site, http://www.lovepoemsandquotes.com because, sad to say, I am not a poet. holden.

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On the first day of Christmas