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Tidings of Comfort and Joy by StormySkize [Reviews - 12]

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Author's Notes: This was written for the HG/SS holiday exchange on Live Journal. This was the prompt I chose: #71. Fic: Post-war Hermione and Severus are both doomed to spend Xmas alone until they run into each other in Diagon Alley or London. How, why, and what happens next is up to you. Happy ending, please. Any rating. This prompt was submitted by GinnyWeasley31, and the story is dedicated to her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Special thanks to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. And thanks to Illyria who did some Brit-picking for me. Any errors, however, are mine alone.


Nine

Minutes after the Hogwarts Express left Hogsmeade station carrying the students away for the Christmas holidays, Snape was knocking on Hermione’s back door.

When she opened the door, Snape drank in the sight of her. He stepped inside and took her into his arms.

“I have missed you,” he said in a husky whisper.

“And I have missed you,” she replied.

He bent his head to hers and kissed her with an intensity that had been missing until that moment. His tongue traced her lips and dipped into the sweet moistness of her mouth, teasing and dancing with her own.

When they broke apart, they were both slightly breathless.

“Will you make love to me, Severus? Please?” Hermione whispered as she reached up to stroke his cheek.

Snape hesitated a moment. “I did not come here today expecting to make love to you. I didn’t bring …”

“I expected it,” Hermione said, interrupting him. “Or, rather, I hoped for it. I’ve taken care of it.”

“Clever witch,” he murmured as he kissed the side of her neck.

“Now will you make love to me?”

“I know I should be noble and push you away,” he replied, “but I’m a selfish bastard. I want you too much to be noble. I will take the gift you offer today and never regret it.”

“Why would pushing me away be noble?”

Snape reached up and captured her hand in his.

“In a few days, you’ll be whole and strong. You’ll take your rightful place in the wizarding world. You’ll meet other people, other … men. They’ll be young and handsome and they’ll pursue you …”

“And I’ll send them on their way,” Hermione insisted.

“I would like to believe that …” he began.

“Are you calling me a liar?” she asked, pulling her hand from his.

“No. I’m saying that once you are healed, you may have a different perspective.”

He stopped speaking and turned back toward the door.

“Maybe I’ll be noble, after all,” he muttered.

“I love you,” Hermione said to his back.

Snape’s shoulders stiffened, and he turned back to face her.

“What did you say?”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for weeks … months.”

“You are simply grateful for my help …”

“Oh, please, Severus,” she said in a sharp tone, “I’m grateful to Professor Flitwick for his help, but I haven’t invited him to share my bed. I know the difference between love and gratitude.”

He reached her in three quick steps and pulled her back into his arms. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, and the side of her neck.

“If you change your mind after the procedure, I will understand,” he said.

Even as he said the words, he knew that if he lost her now, it would break him.

“I won’t change my mind,” she said as she returned his kisses.

Snape took her hands in his, holding them between their bodies.

“Hermione,” he said, “I have no experience with love, especially the love between a man and a woman. I may never be able to say the words …”

Hermione pulled her hand from his and placed two fingers over his lips.

“Hush. I don’t need the words. Show me; just show me.”

Snape kissed her fingertips and then her palm. He trailed his lips along the inside of her arm and then across her shoulder to the side of her neck. And then he kissed her lips. He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her again and again.

“I want you so much,” he said between kisses, his voice low and husky with need.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered back. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on the feel of his lips on hers.

“Hermione, drop your glamour,” he said.

Her eyes flew open. “Wha …what did you say?”

His fingers continued to stroke her cheek, his lips grazing hers.

“Let your glamour go … all of it.”

She lifted a hand to her hair.

“Why would you want to see me like that?”

“I want you to know that I am making love to you.”

“This is me,” she insisted. “This is what I looked like … before.”

“Yes, it is. And it’s what you’ll look like again. And when you do, I’ll make love to you again.”

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said.

“In the unlikely event that the procedure doesn’t work, I don’t want you sending me away because you think I won’t want you if you are … damaged.”

“I wouldn’t …”

“Yes, you would,” Snape insisted. “It would be you going all noble, thinking you were sparing me.”

He gave a sardonic little smile. “Typical Gryffindor behaviour,” he added.

Hermione returned the small smile with one of her own, but she still hesitated.

“I want to be with you,” Snape continued. “I want to make love with you. I don’t give a bloody damn if your hair is long and bushy or short and frizzy, or whether you have hair at all. I don’t care if your cheek is smooth and soft. I don’t care if your eyelid sags or your lip droops. I don’t care if one of your breasts is injured.”

“I feel like a freak,” she said.

Snape reached out again and touched her face. “You feel like a woman to me. A woman I care for. A woman I desire. Let it go, Hermione. Please.”

Hermione looked at him and read the sincerity in his eyes. She closed her eyes and let her glamour fade.

Snape continued to stroke her face, even as he watched the veneer of her glamour disappear to be replaced by the reality of her ruined flesh.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He kissed the top of her head, his lips caressing the burnt and brittle patches of hair. He kissed her forehead and the sagging corner of her eye. He dragged his tongue along her cheek, feeling the grooves of flesh and the distorted, displaced tissue below the skin. His mouth covered hers, fitting over her damaged lip. His hands lifted to cup her breasts, his fingertips feeling the folds of skin through her blouse. He used his thumbs to tease her nipples into hard little points.

She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen, through the parlour, and into her bedroom.

He set her on her feet and then he undressed her slowly, opening buttons and stroking and kissing each bit of skin as he exposed it.

When she was naked before him, she raised a hand to cover her breast.

“No,” he said softly as he pushed her hand aside. “I want to see you … all of you.”

“I’m …”

“Utterly desirable,” he finished.

Hermione let her hand drop to her side.

“I … I want to see you,” she stammered, blushing slightly.

Snape stepped back and toed off his boots. He quickly stripped off his jeans and shirt and pushed his pants down his legs and stepped out of them. He watched her watching him and smiled slightly when he saw her eyes widen at the sight of his hardened cock jutting from the thatch of dark hair at his groin.

He led her to the bed and eased her down. He lay down beside her, turning to lie on his side, his head propped on one hand while his other hand stroked her breasts, her belly, and down to the juncture of her thighs.

“Utterly desirable,” he repeated.

He slid a finger between her pussy lips, and she arched against his hand. She was already wet, and he used her own wetness to lubricate her clitoris. He stroked her softly.

“I … I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered as she reached out to touch him, her hand encircling his cock. She began to stroke him slowly.

Snape hissed sharply between clenched teeth.

“I won’t last long,” he warned. “Not this first time. Let me please you first.”

He continued to lightly rub her clitoris.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said as she placed a hand over his to still his movements. “I need you this first time, not an orgasm. Please, Severus. I need to feel you. Please.”

Unable to resist her pleas, Snape shifted and moved over her. She parted her legs and reached down between their bodies to grasp his cock and guide him.

He groaned as he slid into her and felt her wet heat envelop him.

“Oh, Hermione,” he murmured as he began to thrust slowly.


He’d been right; he hadn’t lasted long that first time. When they’d made love a second time, though, he’d allowed himself a moment of masculine pride at the sight of her body writhing under his, and the feel of her pussy clenching around him as she climaxed. Then his own orgasm had begun, and he’d felt nothing but pleasure as he emptied himself into her again.


Much later, they were back in the kitchen. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table wearing a long, dark blue velvet dressing gown that zipped from hem to neck. She had restored the glamour on her hair, but left her face unhidden. Snape was moving from refrigerator to stove, preparing a small meal. He was wearing his jeans and a broadcloth shirt open at the neck. His feet were bare.

Snape wasn’t surprised to hear the knock on her back door. Potter and Weasley had known that he’d planned to come to Hermione’s today to bring her back to Hogwarts. He’d expected that they would come by to offer their good wishes before she underwent the procedure that would, hopefully, repair the damage done to her by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione got to her feet and moved to the door.

“I thought you two would show up,” she said as she opened the door.


“Hey, Hermione,” Harry said. Then he looked from Hermione to Snape, taking in her dishabille and his open shirt collar and bare feet. His eyes narrowed. He longed to rail at her, but, as both she and Ron had reminded him, she was a grown witch and capable of making her own decisions. He shook his head, but made no further comment.


Ron, however, had no such reticence.

“It’s about time you two got down to business,” he said. “I thought I’d have to get one of the twin’s lust potions and put it in your tea.”

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, blushing furiously.

Snape turned toward Ron, brandishing his wand. “Although it’s been years, Weasley, I still remember how to cast the Langlock Spell. You will cease your prattle. And you will refrain from speculating about my … our … personal relationship. Am I understood?”

“Not much speculation about it, is there?” Ron asked with a grin.

“Weasley!” Snape growled and raised his wand again.

“All right, all right,” Ron said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Then he turned to Hermione and muttered under his breath, “I thought you said he had a sense of humour?”

Hermione grinned. “He does.”

Then she put her arms around Ron’s waist and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You look happy,” Ron said, pulling back a bit and looking into her eyes. “That’s all that matters.”

Then he turned to Harry. “Isn’t that right, mate?”


Harry looked from Hermione to Snape once more. He knew he would never understand what she saw in him. But, he also knew that if he didn’t accept their relationship, he would lose her friendship and, quite possibly, Ron’s as well. He realised that any lingering dislike he felt for Snape was not worth that price. He drew a deep breath, and then he stepped over to her and wrapped his own arms around her.

“Yes, that’s all that matters,” he agreed.


Snape cleared his throat, and the three of them turned toward him.

“Dinner is ready. Would you gentlemen care to join us?” he asked.

“We sort of ate already,” Ron said.

Snape arched his brow. “Whose turn was it to cook?”

“Mine,” Ron answered.

Snape turned to Harry. He had surmised the internal battle that Potter had fought. If Potter could make an effort for Hermione’s sake, he could as well.

“In that case, Potter, I’m sure I won’t have to repeat the invitation.”

Harry grinned. “No, sir, you won’t.”


When dinner was finished, and the last cleaning charm had been cast, Snape sent the three of them into the parlour.

“I’ll bring in some brandy,” he said.

He took his time getting the glasses down and setting them out on a tray. He wanted to give them a bit of time alone. The three of them shared a special bond of friendship. He knew how important that friendship was to Hermione, and how much she had missed it when she had isolated herself from the two young men. He also knew that no matter what happened in their own relationship, he would always have to share a part of her with them. He decided he could handle that if it meant having her in his life.

He poured out the brandy and then carried the tray into the parlour.

Harry and Ron were sitting on the sofa. Hermione was in the matching chair to the side. When Snape came into the parlour, Hermione got to her feet. She took two of the glasses from the tray and handed them to Harry and Ron.

Then she took her glass, and Snape took his. He set the empty tray down on the coffee table.

“Sit, Severus,” she said.

Ron budged over to the side of the sofa, and Snape assumed Hermione would sit between the two young men.

He sat in the chair Hermione had vacated.

Instead of sitting on the sofa, however, Hermione perched on the arm of Snape’s chair. She draped her arm along the back of the chair, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

Ron took a sip of the brandy and made a face.

“Is there something wrong with your drink, Weasley?” Snape asked, feigning a look of innocence.

“It’s fine,” Ron said. “I’m just not used to the taste, I guess.”

“Brandy is the after dinner drink of civilised society,” Snape said.

“I think I’d prefer an uncivilised beer, then,” Ron replied.

“I think it’s lovely,” Hermione said.

“Enjoy it, Miss Granger,” Snape said. “The one is all you’re getting.”

“He calls you ‘Miss Granger’?” Harry said. “That seems rather formal considering … well, considering.”

Hermione smiled. “He doesn’t always call me Miss Granger, do you, Severus?” She lifted her hand from the back of the chair to tangle in the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

Snape reached up and captured her hand in his. He brought it down to rest against his chest. “Not always,” he replied with a small smile.

Ron stood up, draining his brandy glass in two quick swallows.

“I think its time for us to go, Harry,” he said.

Harry stood up, finishing his brandy as well.

“We’ll see you at Hogwarts tomorrow, then,” he said.

“There is no need for you to leave,” Snape said politely, although he was actually quite looking forward to their departure.

“Yes, there is,” Hermione countered. “I’ve already spent enough time with them tonight and not nearly enough time with you.” She leaned over and gave Snape quick kiss.

“Please, Hermione,” he muttered.

Ron grinned at Snape’s discomfiture, and even Harry had to smile a little.

Hermione got up and walked over to where Harry and Ron were standing.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” she said. She opened her arms, and Harry and Ron stepped into them.

They hugged briefly, and then she stepped away.

“Good night, Professor Snape,” Ron said with a small wave in Snape’s direction.

“See you,” Harry said.

“Good night, gentlemen,” Snape said as he got to his feet to come and stand beside Hermione.

Harry and Ron stepped back, and then the two of them disappeared.


Hermione turned into Snape’s arms.

“Alone at last,” she said with a wicked-looking grin.

“I can see I shall have to instruct you in the fine art of subtlety, Miss Granger,” he said.

“You can instruct me later, Professor Snape,” she said as she drew his head down to hers.

“Much, much later,” he agreed, just seconds before his lips covered hers.


They fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up twice during the night to make love before falling asleep again.

When the morning sun fell in dappled patterns across the bed, Hermione awoke to find Snape leaning back against the headboard, watching her sleep.

“Good morning,” she murmured, holding a hand across her mouth, mindful of her morning breath.

“Good morning,” Snape replied.

“Do you need to use the loo before I do?” she asked.

“I’ve used it already,” he said. “I’ve been awake for a while. I found the toothbrush you left for me. Thank you.”

“That’s what comes of having parents who are dentists. Oral hygiene and all that.” She fidgeted a bit.

“Go use the loo before you burst,” Snape said.

“I’ll be right back,” she said as she pushed the covers aside and got to her feet. She grabbed her dressing gown from the foot of the bed and slipped into it as she made her way to the bathroom.


Hermione smiled as she entered the bathroom. Even if he hadn’t told her he’d already used the loo, she would have known. The toilet seat had been left up, and the toothpaste tube had been squeezed from the middle, though he had replaced the cap.

A few minutes later, when Hermione opened the door to the bedroom, she saw that Snape had moved down under the covers and had fallen back asleep. She tiptoed back out the door and made her way to the kitchen.

When she heard the shower running forty-five minutes later, she put the coffee on.

Snape was scowling when he entered the kitchen.

“Where are my clothes, Miss Granger?” he asked. He had a towel wrapped around his narrow hips.

“Are you always so grumpy in the morning, Severus?” Hermione asked as she walked over to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “I haven’t stolen your clothes. I washed them. They’re in the dryer now.”

“I could have used a cleaning charm on them,” Snape said. “And, I am not grumpy.”

Hermione gave a very Snape-like snort. “Cleaning charms are fine once in a while, but I generally prefer my clothes washed with soap and water,” she said.

“How long will the drying cycle take?” he asked.

“About an hour, why?”

“I could simply Apparate back to my home and retrieve another set of clothing,” he said.

“Or, we could go back to bed, and let the dryer do its work,” Hermione suggested as she toyed with the knot on his towel.

Snape tugged the zipper on the front of her dressing gown down and slid his hand inside to cup her breast.

“Well, there is that,” he said.


An hour later, Snape, wearing his freshly washed and dried clothing, was standing at the stove stirring a pot of porridge.

“No eggs this morning?” Hermione asked, coming up behind him and pressing her breasts against his back. Her hands wrapped around his waist and began to work at the button on his jeans.

“It’s nearly noon, you wanton hussy,” Snape said as he turned and wrapped his arms around her.

“That’s not what you were calling me a few minutes ago,” she said with a smile.

“Yes … a few minutes ago. I’m not eighteen, woman. I need time to recuperate.”

Hermione brushed her hands against the front of his jeans.

“You seem fully recuperated to me,” she purred. “Take me back to bed, Severus.”

“What about the porridge?” he asked.

“Bugger the porridge!”


Snape peered into the pot sitting on the stove. The porridge had congealed into an unappetising mass.

Evanesco,” he muttered, banishing the contents of the pot.

“So, what’s for breakfast?” Hermione asked.

“Lunch,” Snape answered as he rummaged through the refrigerator.

“So, what’s for lunch?”

“You’re having broth,” Snape said. “I’m having at least three ham sandwiches and a large draught of Strengthening Solution.”

“Broth? Just broth?”

“If you had let me prepare you a decent breakfast, instead of sexually assaulting me, you wouldn’t be so hungry now.”

“I wasn’t hungry earlier, not for food, at least,” she said with a smile.

“Well, it’s too late now. Your stomach needs to be empty for the procedure tomorrow.”

“Surely a paltry ham sandwich will have made its way out of my stomach by tomorrow morning.”

“Broth,” Snape repeated.

“You’ve been trying to get me to eat for a year; now that I’m finally hungry you’re starving me,” she grumbled.

“You’ll not make me feel guilty,” Snape insisted. “Your stomach must be empty. I won’t have you vomiting and possibly aspirating your stomach contents.”

Hermione blanched. “Suddenly, I’m not very hungry at all,” she muttered.

“Broth?” Snape asked.

“Broth,” she replied.


By the time they arrived at Hogwarts, it was nearly two o’clock. Harry and Ron were pacing around just outside the circle of stones that marked the Apparition area.

“There you are. We were about to send out a search party,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Hermione said with a slight blush. “We were … uh …”

“Doing laundry,” Snape interjected.

Ron guffawed loudly. “Well, that’s a different name for it.”

“You didn’t have to wait here for us, you know,” Hermione said.

“We were in the infirmary for a while,” Ron said, “but Madam Pomfrey was driving us barmy.”

“And Professor Flitwick isn’t much better,” Harry added.

As they stepped out of the stone circle, Snape turned to Hermione and cast the Disillusionment Charm on her.

“I’ll be glad when I don’t have to hide like this anymore,” Hermione said.

“Once you are ensconced in the infirmary, I will remove the charm,” Snape said. “Poppy and I will ward a private room for you. No one will even know you’re there.”

Although they had done their animal work in the Room of Requirement, Poppy had been insistent that Hermione be treated in the infirmary. Since the students were gone for the Christmas holidays, the infirmary was deserted.


“Why can’t I stay in your quarters tonight?” Hermione asked as came out of the loo wearing the hospital gown that Madam Pomfrey had provided.

“That would be most inappropriate, Miss Granger,” Snape replied. “Besides, Poppy needs to run some tests, and I have to prepare the potions we need to render you unconscious for the procedure.”

“I could help you with them,” Hermione said as she climbed into the hospital bed.

“You would be a distraction,” Snape insisted as he tucked the covers up under her chin. “You would be a pleasant distraction, to be sure, but a distraction just the same.”

“Oh, Severus, you say the sweetest things,” Hermione teased.

“Did you tell your parents about the procedure?” Snape asked, ignoring her comment.

“I told them I was going away for a few days. They’re in France already, but my mum usually calls me a few times a week. I didn’t want her getting my answering machine and becoming worried about me.”

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” Snape asked.

“My mum is still insisting I see a plastic surgeon. If … if this doesn’t work, I’m going to do it. I hope to be able to present her with a fait accompli when they return from their holiday.”

There was a knock on the door, and Snape walked over to open it.

Harry and Ron spilled into the room.

Ron brandished a deck of cards. “We thought we’d play a few games of Exploding Snap with you,” he said. “It’ll help pass the time.”

“I should go work on my calculations,” Snape said.

Snape hesitated, his hand still on the doorknob as he looked over at Hermione.

“Go on and kiss her goodbye, then,” Ron said. “You know you want to.”

He scowled at Ron, but moved over to stand beside the bed. He bent down rather stiffly and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back later.”

He nodded at Harry and Ron and then left, closing the door behind him.

“I hope he does better than that when you’re alone,” Ron said as he pulled a chair over to the bed and began shuffling the cards.

“He’s not comfortable with public displays of affection,” she said.

“Thank God,” Harry muttered as he sat on the other side of the bed.


Many hours later, Snape returned to Hermione’s room. She was sitting up in bed with a book open on her lap.

“I thought your friends would still be here,” he said as he came into the room. He closed the door and warded it so that they would not be disturbed.

“I sent them down to the kitchens to cadge a meal. I told them to go home after they ate. I can only play Exploding Snap for so long before I’m ready to explode myself.”

Snape smiled at that. He went and sat next to the bed. He reached over and took Hermione’s hand in his.

“Did Poppy do all her tests?” he asked.

“She did them as soon as Harry and Ron left. She says I’m in excellent health and should come through the procedure fine. I think she’s more nervous about it than I am.”

“Poppy is a very caring individual. She’s not afraid of failing for her own sake, but for yours. She would feel responsible.”

“Professor Flitwick explained everything to me. I know that there’s a chance the procedure won’t be one-hundred percent successful because my injury is so old. The scar tissue is deeper in some places and may be impossible to repair. I would never hold Madam Pomfrey responsible. There is only one person to blame for my condition, and she’s already dead.”

Snape drew a deep breath. “It will be painful, Hermione. Even with the pain potion and the healing potion, it will be painful.”

“Because the injury is so deep, right?”

“Yes, that’s what Filius believes.”

“It was painful when it happened. I … I was screaming with the pain.”

“It’s not too late to change your mind. You have become … accustomed … to your appearance, and you know it doesn’t bother me.”

“That would be letting Bellatrix Lestrange win. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Yes, but that was before I realised how much I care for you. Now, I want to spare you the pain.”

“I’m tired of hiding, Severus. I miss my magic. I miss it much more than I ever dreamed I would. I want to return to the wizarding world.”

“You could still return,” he insisted.

“I have to return on my own terms. I’ll never feel right if I don’t go through with this, if I let her win. I can bear the pain.”

“It’s late,” Snape said a moment later. “You should be sleeping.”

“Madam Pomfrey left me something to help me fall asleep,” Hermione said indicating the vial sitting on the table by her bed.

“Why haven’t you taken it?” Snape asked.

“I knew you would come in to say goodnight to me. I wanted to see you.”

Snape picked up the vial and handed it to her.

“Well, now you’ve seen me. Drink.”

“Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?” she asked.

“Of course I will,” he replied.

Hermione tipped the vial back and swallowed the contents.

“Did you make this?” she asked as she handed the empty vial to him.

“I make all of Poppy’s potions,” Snape said.

“I’m glad,” she said. “I’m glad I’ll be taking your potions tomorrow. I know they’re the best.” Her eyes drifted closed.

“Sleep, Hermione,” Snape whispered.

“Kiss me goodnight,” she said, forcing her eyes open.

Snape leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Severus,” she murmured in a low, sleepy voice.

Before he could reply, she was asleep.

Additional Author's Note: The admins here on Ashwinder have graciously extended Validated Author status to me. I am humbled by, and grateful for, their trust in me. Because of this added responsibility, I would like to ask my readers to be on the lookout for any mistakes that get past me or my beta. If I am notified of any grammatical, spelling, punctuation, or Canon errors, I will review and correct them as quickly as possible. I always want my stories to be of the highest quality and your help is appreciated. Thanks, Diane



Tidings of Comfort and Joy by StormySkize [Reviews - 12]

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