On the first day of Christmas

“Why would you do a thing like that, Miss Granger?” he said obviously distressed. He had his hands on his hips now and was giving her a trademark sneer and eyebrow raise.

“Err…I don’t know sir.” Hermione lied, knowing full well if she told the truth she’d be ridiculed. Snape seemed extremely dissastifed with this…not surprising. “Would you believe it was an early Christmas present?”

No dice.

“Either you tell me the truth now, Miss Granger.” He said with a sardonic smirk on his cruel lips. “Or perhaps you’d prefer some Veritaserum?”

Hermione blanched. Why did he care? Why couldn’t he just be happy that she had got him something for Christmas?

“No sir.” She said quietly, the room almost echoing now. He was so close…so close it was beyond intimidating.

“I did it…because I wanted to show you that Christmas could be nice…that you were appreciated…that you could have a friend.”

She heard him suck in a shallow breath at this, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. Damn damn damn damn damn.

She saw his charcoal eyes almost dim at her words and she tried to salvage the wreckage the best way she knew how; talking.

“Sir, I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to spread some Christmas cheer is all. I wanted to be your friend.”

At this Snape’s eyes darted and met hers, he looked absolutely li


He grasped her shoulder roughly, peering into her face furiously. “Listen here Granger.” He said huskily against her ear, “I don’t want, nor do I need friends. Especially not annoying little Gryffindor friends like yourself. Do you understand?”

Hermione shook, her shoulders trembling under his touch. How could she explain that this had gone from a neighborly good tiding, into a sick obsession with him?

“I understand sir.” She said quietly, trying not to meet his eyes. But they probed her own, and he captured her gaze for his own. She bit her lip out of nervous habit, and noticed how his gaze flicked and was now fixated upon her lips. She prepared to say something, to extract from his grasp…

Suddenly without warning he dipped his head and with an unexpected savagery, he claimed her burning lips. His own warm lips pressed to hers, thrusting his tongue into her suddenly parting mouth. He was hot, and needy as she was and she felt as his hands traveled all along her body, resting on the small of her back and drawing her closer.

She grasped his neck then, wanting some control of the situation, and finding it increasingly difficult. He was moving so fast, but his tongue was moving so deliciously slow, making circles on the roof of her mouth as she whimpered into his mouth. She felt his hair in between her fingers, and marveled at how it was actually not that greasy at all.

He kissed her neck then, as her face was burrowed in the crook of his neck. She smelled the inviting spices upon him; spices she had never thought of as erotic before but after this moment knew would mean nothing less.

She felt how much he wanted her at that moment, and a tremor of excitement raced through her. Here he was…a real man, wanting her…and she wanted him.

He pressed her up against the cold wall with his pelvis, their hearts pounding, for anyone could see them in the hall, ravishing each other. She kissed his neck then, and felt him involuntarily shiver a bit, feeling bolder she reached for his trousers and he broke away, breathing heavily.

“I don’t know what’s come over me.” He said hoarsely, looking to Hermione wildly with his now mussed hair…he looked so…endearing, all of a sudden…so befuddled in comparison to his usual cold demeanor. “I apologize.”

“Don’t.” Hermione said breathlessly, “I wanted you to.”

“You did?” he asked with that usual level tone of his, where she couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic of confused. He shook his head either way, “Not that it matters. You must go. Good evening.”

Hermione looked to him unsettled. What the bloody hell was going on? Hadn’t he just kissed her in a way that sent signals all over? Hadn’t she just tried to unbutton his trousers? Hadn’t she…just kissed her Professor?

He was looking at her, licking his own lips as if still tasting her on them. Looking at her with that unmistakable hunger in his eyes that she knew all to well about now.

She stopped the thoughts that ran through her mind, screaming at her to run over to him and smother him in needy kisses, knowing full well he wanted her to.

But she didn’t.

She turned and she ran, with tears pricking at her eyes as she made her way into her room, its festive decoration so very inappropriate.

An hour later a very confused Hermione sat reading her book and looking at the scrap of parchment again again. What had she bloody well done?

Passionately kissed her ruddy Potions Professor. And enjoyed it. He hadn’t…had he? Did he regret what he had done? Probably not…probably just did it to scare her off.

She looked over that favorite poem of hers again, her eyes growing heavy and then closing…

* * *

“Rap rap rap.” Came the sound on her windowpane as a familiar dark bird shot a glare at her, shivering on the snowy ledge.

Bollocks.

It was that damned bird again. She threw open the window, took the paper and threw it back out into the now snowing sky.

She went to her fire, opening the letter with the green seal. She recognized his cramped scrawl at once and felt her stomach turn over. What had she done? No…what had he done? Suddenly a shimmer of hope welled up within her.

Perhaps he was apologizing? Perhaps he wanted her to come back…to finish what they had started? Perhaps he had feelings for her as well? But deep down she knew that wasn’t true and the letter confirmed just that.


‘Miss Granger,

You’re services are no longer required.

-S.S.’


The bastard.

She looked to the clock beside her bed…Harry and Ron would be here in less than eight hours. By then she had to collect herself, be normal and enjoy herself…but most of all…

She had to convince herself she wasn’t falling for Severus Snape.