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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 32181 -:- 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.

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A/N: On the first day of Christmas...my Sevmuse struck me with this.

The name scrawled in shiny silver script taunted her from the tiny piece of parchment. It glittered in the candlelight of her study and she sighed. Of all the names to draw for secret Santa she had to draw the man that had everything, needed nothing, and would be impossible to sneak around. It had been a tradition ever since Hermione had become a member of the Hogwarts staff, and in theory long before that. The staff would gather on the night of the 12^th of December for a little holiday get together in the staff lounge. Each name of the staff would be placed on a piece of parchment that was then thrown into a festive holiday hat; which was somewhat enchanted, and then each staff member would draw a name from said hat.

            The Twelve Days of Secret Santa, Albus Dumbledore had called it. Each day, starting the very next morning of the 13^th, each member of the staff would present one secret present to their chosen name leading all the way up to Christmas Eve where at the big staff Christmas party they would reveal their identities. This year the rules had been made a bit more difficult than previous years. To start with, Albus had enchanted the hat so that no one would receive themselves (although this had always been the case) and this year to ensure that no one would receive the name of someone sharing their house affiliation. No one would draw the same name as they had drawn the previous year. No one was to reveal their secret person to anyone else on staff and although this had been a practice in the past Albus had set a hex upon the recipients so that someone were to reveal who their secret person was, their face would bare spiky holly bushes for the remainder of the Christmas season.

            And this year they would have to deliver their presents as covertly as possible. Hermione sighed and let the parchment rest on her desk. How on earth was she going to break into Albus Dumbledore’s office without his notice in order to leave secret presents for the man who had everything? But what was more troubling was who on earth had her. Last year it had been a nightmare, as her secret Santa candidate had been Argus Filch and her name had been drawn by Sybil Trelawney. She shuddered at the thought.

            This year it was going to be different. She had made a list of every faculty member at Hogwarts and was crossing names off its list trying to figure out who had drawn her name. She understood that it took the fun out of it, but as she was a woman dominated by logic and reason, she simply had to know. Deductively she’d managed to cross out the names of Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Remus Lupin, Neville Longbottom, and Sybil Trelawney. But that still left a rather long list of names for her to consider. Though she supposed of the remaining names there were only two faculty members whom she would prefer to not have drawn her name. Namely Argus Filch and Severus Snape.

            Her muggle studies class would come all too early in the morning if she didn’t stop contemplating who had drawn her from the hat and start working on the headmaster’s first gift. With a wave of her wand doused the candles in her study and head out into the corridor. A trip to the greenhouses would be in order.

            She was not surprised to find Professor Sprout bustling about in the earth near the back of the main greenhouse when she entered. “Neville bring the Dratilkas back here, I’ve got the soil beds ready,” the Herbology matron called, knee-deep in dirt.

            “Sorry, Pomona, just me,” Hermione offered and stepped toward the woman.

            “Oh! Hermione Granger! What brings you out here so late tonight?” she asked, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. It did nothing to dislodge the copious amounts of dirt present.

            “Searching for something that you might be able to assist me with,” she smiled.

            “Ah, present for your secret Santa, hmm?”

            Hermione nodded.

            “Safe to say then, it isn’t me?” the older witch smiled.

            Hermione shook her head slowly. There had been nothing in the statement about revealing who it was not. “No, I’m afraid not, Pomona.” She winced and waited a moment, half expecting pointy holly bushes to sprout from her face. When none appeared she breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

            “Nor I you, dear.” She chuckled. “Though I think I’ve managed to figure out who Neville has,” she clucked her tongue. “Poor thing nearly fell over when he read his parchment.” She chuckled and then shook her head. “Now, what can I assist you with?”

            Hermione’s thoughts were still frozen on the likelihood that Neville had drawn Professor Snape’s name from the hat. She rolled her eyes and then faced the woman standing in the dirt. “I need a shrub.”

            “That’s all, dearie?” the woman asked her face fallen with disappointment.

            “A shrub that I can bewitch to grow certain…things…” Hermione quickly added, “Edible things…” before the witch got too many unsavory thoughts in her mind.

            “I do believe I have just the thing,” she beamed. “If you’ll just help me out of this hole…” she extended her hand up to Hermione, and if a bit reluctantly, Hermione took her dirt covered hand and pulled her out of the hole.

            Several hours later Hermione was quite pleased with herself. The little shrub was in full bloom, sprouting sherbert lemons and raspberry tarts lollies. It was a lovely sight to behold. She smiled and placed a water globe into the soil to ensure that the pot would stay fresh overnight before turning off the lights in her study and heading to her bedroom. Getting the shrub to his office would prove another problem but she would worry about that in the morning. The thoughts of who her mystery person was plagued her mind straight into slumber.



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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa