On the first day of Christmas

* * *

It had been a few days since her last encounter with Snape, and she had been bidding farewell to Harry and Ron. Exchanging small gifts with smiles and hugs and waves as the two boys left her, shivering in the foyer of Hogwarts.

She watched as the snow gently cascaded down onto the snowy drifts outside Hogwarts, while Ron and Harry’s slowly diminished and she felt a single tear begin to fall down her cheek.

“All right, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked patting her on her shoulder. Hermione immediately brightened, faking a smile that would have put anyone to shame.

“Just fine, Headmaster.” She answered brightly, her dark eyes not watering quite so much. Dumbledore nodded, and spoke gravely.

“Why aren’t you going home?”

Hermione didn’t answer quite so fast, feeling as if they were being spied upon. She licked her lips nervously and offered a lazy shrug.

“My parents…” she trailed off, not meeting his piteous eyes, “There away for Christmas…and…I can’t go and…well…I like it here.”

‘So that’s why she\'s here.’ Snape thought sourly, looking to her with disdain from the shadowed corridor he was leaning against. Annoying little twit. Parents probably couldn’t stand all her damned questioning.

Dumbledore talked to her a moment longer and Snape felt his agitation grow. He couldn’t very well stroll out there now could he? Interrupt them? He wished he hadn’t been walking past at that very moment…and then spying…

“Are you having the Christmas banquet then?” Hermione asked dismissively, looking to Dumbledore with a glimmer of hope in her dark eyes. Albus chuckled a bit and nodded happily.

“Yes, it\'s a tradition.”

Snape rolled his eyes, mocking the Headmaster in his head. Damned Albus and his stupid traditions. He refused to attend this year. Suddenly something caught his ears and he stopped his internal bantering.

“Do all the professors attend?” Hermione asked pensively, looking to Albus as if he were going to kill her with his words. Albus himself though looked completely at ease and Snape tried to listen further.

“Well. Most of them.” Albus said gently, “Why do you ask?”

Snape’ eyes went into slits, knowing full well what she was going to say next. He could practically hear her saying it now. Hermione fidgeted a moment, looking all around and making sure they were quite alone.

“Well…will Professor Snape be there?” Hermione asked gently, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She wrinkled her nose as she asked this, and Snape could faintly make out the nervousness in her voice.

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes. Why?”

Hermione opened her mouth to answer when McGonagall suddenly emerged from the other side of the foyer, annoyingly calling Dumbledore for something stupid surely. Snape internally prepared a hex for the batty old crow, his eyes still trained on the scene in front of him.

Dumbledore and McGonagall rushed off, bidding Hermione a farewell as she nodded, waving and standing alone in the foyer, the doors all around her closing.

He heard her sniffle, probably had a cold of some sort. She looked like she was lost and he frowned, she looked so out of place and small in the big hall. He decided this was a better time that none and strode out into the foyer, making sure he walked slowly past her.

She heard his shoes against the floor and suddenly her head jerked up and her arms wrapped around herself. She looked to Snape wordlessly and prepared to walk back to her room.

“Good evening Professor.” She finally uttered as she brushed past him in a rush. Snape turned, arms crossed and in that sotto voce voice of his, almost commanded Hermione to look at him.

“Good evening Miss Granger.” He sneered as he viewed her obvious discomfort. “Having a pleasant holiday… without your friends?”

She glared openly at him and he smirked, daring her to say something so he could take off points. She brushed her hair back from her face and shot him another withering look.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Planning anything special for your duration here? I mean without Potter and Weasely here your days will probably be quite long and boring I suppose…with no adventures or stealing from my storage.” Snape stated merrily, looking to her with obvious glee in his malicious eyes.

“I suppose the days will be long.”

He didn’t know why he said what he did next, but he couldn’t help it. He loved seeing her furious…he loved getting a rise out of his students and Hermione…she was a specialty. She always got this wrinkle in her brow, her face flushed and she got all trembly. It was a hilarious spectacle when you caught her at the right time. But what he said next…he almost immediately regretted…

“Why didn’t you go home in the first place?” he asked, almost circling her like the overgrown bat he was. “Don’t your parents enjoy your company?”

Hermione’s head whipped up and she openly stared at him with fury in her intensely focused eyes, Snape was almost taken aback but remained motionless.

“What do you care, you greasy git?!” Hermione yelled, furiously at him for trying to get a rise out of her. Snape looked utterly baffled and actually blinked rapidly at her a moment or so before his cheeks turned a strange color of pink and his jaw clenched.

Oops.

“Ten points Miss Granger.” He muttered in a dangerously soft voice, his black eyes boring a hole into her now wide eyes.

Was that all? Just ten points for mouthing off to him? What a bre-

“And since your days will be so long and unfulfilling.” He added, “You won’t mind detention for the duration of your holiday.”

He swept off wordlessly then, his cape whipping her calves as he strode off stiffly. The man was such a priss. She sighed furiously, making sure Snape heard as she rushed off to her quarters.

* * *

“Detention!” Hermione muttered outraged. This was so typical of Snape, getting her so angry she couldn’t see straight and making her want to wring that bloody neck of his. She hadn\'t even done anything that wrong...err...she sort of smirked at this as she thought it...perhaps she had been a bit out of line...

She thought she heard something behind her just then, waking her from her reminicing of hours prior, but she ignored it, instead deciding to move to her Head Girl quarters and…who knew what.

“Nettles.” She said softly, wiping the tears that angrily swam down her face. honestly, she hadn’t cried since…was it forth year? When Ron and Harry had made up? Seemed so long ago…she was in seventh year now.

Harry and Ron hadn’t grown up a damned bit and always seemed to be spending time with each other while she was left to be the third wheel. It was positively infuriating. All she had was her books now, and her occasional run in’s with Snape. Wow. What a life.

She flopped onto the carpet in front of her small hearth, feeling the heat radiate and warm her inside and out. She summoned a small glass of hot chocolate from the elf that had just entered. ‘Forget S.P.E.W.’ she thought miserably, staring into the dancing fire that reflected in her eyes.

The elf returned moments later and miserably dropped the hot chocolate next to her with large drooping eyes and without warning he raced off, in need somewhere else no doubt. Bloody house elves.

That damned Snape…where had that thought come from? Same place it always did she supposed. The deepest recesses of her mind as she sipped her drink furiously, feeling it scorch her throat and inside of her mouth. She placed the cup next to her angrily, not noticing the contents spill next to her.

“It’s bloody infuriating!” Hermione spat angrily, crossing her arms and looking outside at the crisp winter landscape. She was going to be captive here for almost three weeks. What a crime.

She looked over to the library building, fairly certain that it would be to no avail for her to go there. It was much too cold out…even with her cloak and scarf and mittens. She could always cast a spell but…she was too tired.

She finally pulled herself to her feet, telling herself she would STOP feeling so sorry for herself. The library was perfect…and probably her last chance at moderate happiness before her detentions started.

She hated Christmas.

* * *

Why had that Granger girl been in such a state? Snape puzzled as he wandered aimlessly walking down the halls, perusing them at his leisure in hopes of catching over-zealous couples in the midst of a goodnight kiss. That was always the best. That look of horror, fear and scorching humiliation all in one. That was Christmas.

He passed a nearby elf that stuck its tongue out at him before he looked back, sure he saw something. Stupid bloody holidays, it was enough to make one go mad. He always had to see all their stupid smiling faces here at Hogwarts as they raced to opposite rooms, brandishing gifts and tokens of friendship. How utterly revolting.

No one really ever got Snape gifts. Only Dumbledore and some of the staff dared to. And if Snape got one more pair of green and silver Christmas tree socks…best not to think about it.

A young girl with bouncing blonde hair, a first year surely, passed by him without slowing down her heavy pace. Snape jutted out an arm prompromptly stopped her, as she stopped a few feet away from his outstretched arm looking to him in alarm.

“Slow down.” He hissed angrily, and the girl’s light eyes promptly filled with tears. She muttered a small sorry and hurried off, not quite running. Snape straightened up and prepared to keep walking.

“That was a horrible thing to do Severus.” Said a melodic voice, and Snape whirled around. The hallway was dark and barren. Where had it come from?

“Over here.”

A portrait. She looked fairly old with a plain face and a wide frown, looking at him as if he were a silly little boy. “Why do you do that?”

Snape’s upper lip curled, “I don’t associate with pictures.” He sneered, glaring at her and preparing to walk on.

“Of course.” The portrait said offhandedly, “I don’t usually speak with greasy git’s either, but I made an exception.”

Snape’s back rigid and suddenly he whirled around, his hair falling in his face. “What did you just say?”

“Why are you so mean to everyone?” she interrupted, “All the time I see you, you’re so cruel. Especially to that Potter boy…and that red headed friend of his, Weasley?…and that pretty young thing…what’s her name?”

‘Pretty young thing?’ Snape’s mind whirled a moment before it clicked. Granger. Granger was always with Potter and Weasley.

“You must mean Granger.” He said with a vain attempt of a sneer. The picture remained unfettered and continued.

“Yes that one. Smart young thing...You seem so alike.”

At this last comment the prior frozen Snape raised a quizzical eyebrow and said in a low voice, “What are you implying?”

“Usually when one is overly cruel to a person they might harbor inner longi- ”

“Do shut up.” Snape sneered offended. Gads, he and the Granger girl…how bloody ridiculous. He stormed off down the hallway with the portrait still talking after him, he blocked out her voice and made his way to his chamber.

He slammed the door to his chambers furiously, his cheeks burning as he recalled the latest comment from that insolent picture.

Harboring feelings for some stupid Gryffindor. That was about as probably as Weasley and Potter becoming lovers. He frowned, pacing his room and trying to focus on anything but that annoying little girl.

He wouldn’t ever be able to look that little brat in the eye again, troublesome little twit always getting in his hair and irritating him to no end.

But now she was so bitter…so cynical…so like him. She was acting strangely…she had been inquiring about him after Dumbledore…perhaps there was more to her than met the eye.

No. He doubted it.

A whole three weeks of detention with her…now when he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but what that damned image had said. A whole three weeks of Hermione Granger annoyingly talking about anything and everything.

He would make sure she regretted what she had said earlier, brash little twit that she was. She would rue the day she was assigned detention with him, and at this thought his lips curved into a deliciously evil smirk.

Perhaps this Christmas wouldn’t be so bad.