Let it Snow
This is a little Severus/Hermione one shot revolving around Christmas. It's a little fluff piece, inspired by the challenge set by xelusive memoriesx on SAYS. (says-skills.com) And, a prompt provided by
dselena
Severus/Hermione, fluffy, no potions, no telling how they got together *hugs you* Merry Christmas, darling.
Amazingly AWESOME banner was provided by Anna Black on SAYS. Thank you SO much *fangirls*
Everything through the fogged up, old window looked like the inside of a snow globe. Merry people dancing along in the snow, building snowmen and making snow angels, having fun as winter set in around Spinner's End. Severus stared out of the window spitefully, his lip twisted into a disdainful grimace. She was there with them, making igloo forts and tossing snowballs at people as they passed by.
The jingle of bells could be heard reverberating off of the rickety walls and Severus all but covered his ears. How could she stand outside, freezing her knickers off, and cover herself and others in snow? And what was that horrendous tune she was bellowing at the top of her lungs? Why couldn't she just come inside, have hot tea and sit still like any normal girl her age? It was distressing, to think that this older man had bedded such a young heart, when he, himself, had such mature standards.
"Sev!" He heard her cry from outside. When he turned his head to face her, he couldn't help but soften slightly at her pink tinged cheeks and innocent browns staring at him. "C'mon Severus. The snow is perfect!"
He bared his teeth in an annoyed sneer and rolled his eyes at her, as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her slender body. She would have frostbite before the day ended. And he didn't have the time or the desire to whip up a curing potion. He would just let her suffer from her childish decisions.
Splat!
Jumping back, Severus tutted and caught his breath as the remnants of a snowball dripped down where his face once held position at the window. With his eyes still wide with surprise, he stood up to the window and stared out of the sloshiness. Hermione was doubled over with laughter, her finger pointed in his direction. He stalked from the window then and stopped at the closet, grabbing his cloak from its hanger. Wrapping it snug around his frame, Severus reached into his pocket and withdrew his black hat and gloves.
"Alright?" She asked smugly, walking up to Severus as he approached her. His face was nonplussed, the straight line of his lips refusing to move. "Don't be so broody, Sev. It's Christmas Eve!"
Instead of answering her, he gripped her arm roughly below the elbow and dragged her away from the screaming and excited children. On a snowy bank, near a frozen lake, he finally stopped and let her go. He wouldn't face her, and just stared over the ice, his beetle black eyes clashing viciously with the pristine, white snowdrifts.
"I was having fun," Hermione pouted, throwing one end of her purple scarf behind her back. "You should try it sometime. That pissy mystique does get quite old, you know."
Severus narrowed his eyes, but still refused to turn himself so that he was standing in front of her. "It's been two years since you've brought me back to this place. Seven hundred and thirty days exactly. And I still hate the bloody lot of it."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down in the snow. She glanced up at Severus, not getting a rise of attention out of him.
"I hate the noise, the cold, and the false cheerful smiles," he continued, kicking around the snow by his feet. "Those stupid carols and stories, the chocolate and gifts."
Hermione lay back in the snow and placed her legs apart, parallel to her hands. The snow was falling gently, little flakes in her hair and on her face. She wanted to laugh at the sight of herself, but knew better than to interrupt Severus in the midst of his tangent.
"The smell is repulsive and my potions are needed more frequently thanks to the idiots that use Yule log to keep themselves warm," he kept going on and on, now finally gazing down at Hermione as she made her snow angel. "All of the best ingredients are buried under the snow, or hibernating because of the snow."
Hermione scoffed and moved from her snow angel carefully, trying her best not to step on the wings or the cloak. As she tiptoed around it, she squatted down above the imprint of her head and drew a circle with her gloved finger. She nodded, mostly to herself, and stood up straight, staring into Severus' pretentious eyes.
"Don't let me ruin your tribulations," she said finally, gesturing her hands forward for him to continue. "Please, enlighten me on the wicked ways of Christmas."
Severus didn't deter his eyes. The depth of them caught Hermione off guard, causing her to be pulled in to his next words; the hurt crushing her overzealous heart. "Cheeky attitudes from little girls, selfish wishes, wanton dreams. Christmas is for a bunch of sniveling kids who have nothing better to do than to waste their time being coerced by the Muggle traditions."
"I see," she whispered, turning from him finally. "I just thought-"
"Do you want to know what's worse?" Severus interjected, his voice rising higher than the monotonous tone it had been. He didn't wait for her answer. "For the second year in a row, I've fallen deeper and deeper into this god forsaken day, time, season. And all because of one thing."
Crossing her arms, Hermione steadied herself with one foot out in front of her. "You watched It's a Wonderful Life and realized that you have loads in common with George Bailey?"
He managed to smirk now, seeing her so frustrated sparked something inside of him. "Hermione, the only thing that keeps me attached to this... this inane idiocy is you." Squinting and tilting her head, Hermione stared open-mouthed at Severus. He had a crimson color to his cheeks, flushing down his neck and then hidden below his robes.
"How... romantic?" Hermione said finally, deciding that he probably meant the backhanded compliment in the best of ways. "If you'll excuse me, Severus, I was having fun participating in the inane idiocy of the winter season. Should you choose to come out of your woeful hibernation, I'll be making buttons out of rocks." Her final words were emphasized as she turned on her heel and stomped away.
"Right," was all Severus could muster as he watched her march back to the children with a sway to her hips. He was rooted to the spot, a sneer most easily gracing his pointed face. He shoved his pale, slender hands into his trouser pockets and kicked at the snow on the ground, silently cursing the falling snow from the sky. Two years ago, Severus positively hated the smell of the frost, the molten candles flickering around his small, dingy home, the mirth, which Hermione had greeted him. Loathed the lot of it. And now that he had finally grown accustom to the merriment, she turned her back on him and stalked away as if offended by his declaration.
"Sod her, then," he whispered evenly to himself. It would be easy to go back to the moody and intolerable Grinch of a git he had been. She was the reason he even bloody tried to be more. Yes, she was the entire reason for this catastrophe. Hell, if he was given time, he could probably trace her genes back to the reason the poxy holiday had started in the first place.
But, he didn't mean it. He didn't believe a bleeding word of what was flowing through his mind. She may have been the reason that he acknowledged his place, here at Spinner's End and, effectively, in the Wizarding World. And she may have been the first thing he had tried to tear apart when he realized he was back from the beyond. But she was now the reason he looked forward to waking every morning. The terrible, buck toothed bint. He embraced the loathing he felt for her, and adored every second that he was annoyed with her. Most secretly, of course.
He narrowed his eyes as she grinned in the distance. Whether she was trying desperately not to make eye contact with him or not, it seemed so unnatural to have her looking elsewhere, getting lost in something else. They had spent their days with each other and their nights wrapped up in each other. To see her so happy amongst others twisted a knife in his gut.
Severus marched over to Hermione, hands turning into freeze pops inside of his trouser pockets. His feet were starting to feel the icy snow slip inside and everything was getting just a little bit worse as he approached her. His mind told him to turn away, to lock the door, and never face her again. Not after her blatant disregard for his confession. Not after two years of opening up only to have Hermione shove the door of her secrets in his face.
He cleared his throat, standing behind her. His curtain of hair fell gracefully over the sides of his face, snow catching in the strands, clashing with the black. She barely glanced at him, instead focusing on the buttons of her snowman and the little boy she was helping with the construction of it. Once again, he coughed and this time moved his hands from his pockets to behind his back. The stance worked in his classroom all those years ago, striking fear into each student that passed through the walls. And still, she paid him no attention.
"Miss Granger," he said finally, an air of hesitation in the whisper of his voice.
Hermione stopped her giggling and turned her head to stare, open-mouthed, at Severus. Her eyes were slits as the rocks in her hands tumbled into the snow.
"I think it's pertinent that we discuss our...situation," Severus continued, ignoring her slight hitch in breathing. "Now"
Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, arms instinctively crossing over her chest. "I think, Severus, that you've made yourself perfectly clear. You hate Christmas, the whole Christmas season. Apart from," she lowered her voice and leaned in to him, "me. Probably the advantage of my... generous mood."
His tongue clicked; outraged flared in his black, endless eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I love you?"
She jerked away from him. "After two years, Sev, it might be nice to think that you love me."
"For the love of-" He broke off and spun on his heel, leaving her alone to her friends and snow. So, she wanted to think he loved her; she hadn't been paying attention to him for at least the last year and a half. With his feet sogging wet and his hands frozen into balls, he apparated into his house and brushed off the snow from his shoulders. "Insufferable, imprudent, naive, manipulative..."
Boxes shuffled around his home, some floating in mid air, some stacking themselves against the wall. If he could only remember what he did with the damn thing in the first place...
"Ah," he exclaimed quietly. He opened a very small black box and smirked at what lay inside. Something to give Hermione, to prove that he cared for her. At least, this would say that he paid attention to things that she would say over the last few months. At most, this would buy him another few months to work up the courage to tell her how he felt. "Cocky, snide... Gryffindor."
His eyes were drawn outside again, through the fogged up window. Hermione stood in a circle with others, dancing around like a ritual was going to take place. Closing his eyes, agitated, he shook his head and tried to clear it of witty remarks. Instead, he found himself outside again, just out of reach of Hermione.
"Here." It was simple. He shoved the black box into her hand and stood back, his head lowered slightly and his eyes not daring to meet hers... or the others that were staring at them.
Taking a chance, he allowed his eyes to look up at her and only briefly did he catch the small shadow of a smile playing on her lips. He too, couldn't help but feel the warmth spreading in his chest, knowing that she was going to enjoy this... forever.
"Oh, Severus! It's absolutely beautiful," Hermione whispered, pulling something silver from the box. He finally brought his shoulders up square and stared at her, engaged now in her abundant smile and radiant eyes. "Where... when...."
Walking up to her, he placed his hands on her hips and looked down to her. "My mother use to tell me stories of this pin." His finger touched it, memories flooded back to him... a time when he enjoyed Christmas and still believed in Father Christmas. "She said that if you use this pin on a snowman's top hat, he will come to life for twenty-four hours."
Hermione laughed. "That's a ridiculous children's tale, Sev. Surely you don't believe that?"
"There are a lot of things I'd no sooner believe." Severus took her chin in his fingers and tilted it so that she faced him directly in the eyes. They stayed inches apart, her breath keeping his nose warm. He glanced down to her lips, back up to her eyes and then down to her lips. "Spend tonight with me, Hermione."
Only his lips had sealed his question with an answer as they met hers gently, almost sweetly. She pulled back with a smile on her lips, nodding her head. "Merry Christmas, Severus."