Note: I know it's been two whole excruciating weeks since I updated last. I apologize profusely. If you want to know the details of why things have been so delayed, I'll have an explanation on my livejournal soon. Check out http://www.livejournal.com/users/pern_dragon/ if you're interested in my excuses. *snort*

At any rate, this was one chapter, but it was far too long to upload as one, so I ended up splitting it ito two separate chapters. Proceed immediately to the next one for instant continuity. LOL

As always, thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers, who even sent me reminders that you were patiently (or not, in some cases) awaiting an update! And thanks to Horserider, Laela, SnivellusSnape, and yutamiyu for support and being sounding boards. Now, that being said, hope you enjoy the next installment in my little venture!
Cheers! Nicole aka Good_Witch

Chapter 26- Clarification, and Dumbledore’s Great Idea

Things settled into a fairly normal routine once again. Hermione helped the boys with their homework Sunday evening, all the while forging ahead in her study schedule preparing for N.E.W.T.s. She managed to keep herself from looking too often at the High Table at mealtimes, but she did contrive to smile overtly when she knew Snape was looking at her. She noticed, in her repeated stolen glances, that he was now ending his meals with a cup of tea—complete with honey and lemon. After a few meals, she decided to do the same, and by the time she had Potions again that Wednesday, she was fairly sure that he had noticed her adoption of his ritual, especially as she had made sure to make her cup at the same time he made his.

Hermione was holding back an anticipatory grin as she made her way down to the dungeons for class that morning. She knew he would be as sour as usual, if only to keep up the façade, but she was looking forward to spending time near him, since the next rehearsal wasn’t until that Friday night.

She was curious about how methodical Dumbledore would be with the rehearsals, especially as she thought she could anticipate the pattern, based on the notice, “Friday November 28: block Think of Me through the first Angel of Music. Actors required to attend: Everyone except Justin, Colin, Dean, Terry, Draco and Pansy.”

She had spent some time calming the boys’ considerable anxiety about interference with Quidditch practices when she saw that rehearsals looked like they would be held weekly on Friday nights. It was a good idea. If they went longer, past curfew, at least the students had a good reason to be out, and they could sleep in the next morning without having to worry about classes. After seeing the impressive reproduction of the theatre and sets, Hermione was much more sanguine about Dumbledore’s abilities as a director.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the slam of the potions classroom door as Snape stormed in, sweeping to the front and spinning, causing his robes to swirl about his ankles as he scowled at the students. Hermione bit her lip and cast her eyes down at her hands, fighting the indulgent smile that wanted to surface, especially after she had told him how sexy she found him when he did that.

Snape glanced at her and saw her flushed face. He, too, remembered her confession, and suddenly felt rather abashed. Discomfited, he turned to the board and scrawled the instructions, allowing himself time to regain composure. His expression was once again coldly stoic as he spun back. “You know what to do by now. Get on with it.”

Hermione felt his gaze on her after he sat at his desk. Tentatively, she caught his eye and he scowled at her. His eyes flicked around the room with lightning speed, and then he glared pointedly at Hermione. She understood the message and schooled her expression into one of studious concentration as she went back to her supplies.

Well, if he was worried about her being indiscreet, she’d just have to show him how trustworthy she was. Setting her formidable focus on that task, as well as her potion, Hermione went through the whole period without paying any more attention to Snape.

She didn’t look at him once.

And Snape was sure of it, because he kept peering at her through his hair, both while at his desk and while circulating through the room. As time wore on, he became increasingly bothered by her complete detachment. Worry began to gnaw at him.

Was it all really a passing fancy, embellished by the sumptuous surroundings of the play… and our clothing… and the time we were forced to spend together? Did she really mean everything she said? Or was she exaggerating in her youth and inexperience? His stomach roiled uncomfortably and he could feel his shoulders tighten and ache. His jaw started throbbing from clenching his teeth so forcefully. As the period neared its end, he sank irritably back into his chair at his desk and glared around the room. Students were starting to decant their potions and clear their stations. Snape wanted to keep Hermione after class to talk to her, but he knew it would draw attention if he just ordered her to stay after again, without any reason.

Then it hit him. He smirked to himself; he wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing…

Hermione bottled her potion and labelled it, setting it on her table. Then, she gathered the leftover ingredients and strode off to replace them in the cabinet. As she turned away from her desk, Snape flicked a barely audible spell at her bottle, knocking it over and causing it to roll off her desk and shatter messily on the floor. Everyone jumped at the crash, and Hermione whirled in dismay, seeing her hard work splattered on the stones. As one, the class turned frightened eyes on Snape, who instantly shot to his feet and leant menacingly over his desk, glowering at Hermione.

“Miss Granger!” he bellowed. “Five points from Gryffindor for ineptitude! Remain after class to clean up this mess. And I suggest you prepare another sample for your grade quickly before I Vanish what’s left and leave you with no credit for the day.” He glared at her, ignoring the pang of guilt at her aghast expression.

Hermione put away the ingredients with trembling hands and quickly returned to her desk, hastily decanting another sample before Snape made good his threat. Holding her breath in exaggerated care, she gingerly stepped up to his desk and submitted the sample. Snape avoided catching her gaze, afraid she’d see the guilt in his eyes. Hermione spun back to her desk, clearing her things nervously. She had just stuffed her supplies back into her bag when class was dismissed, and the rest of the students rushed out of the room, leaving her standing by the puddle of potion and shards of glass.

Shaken by such an unusual occurrence, Hermione kept her eyes cast down as she stammered, “H-how shall I clean this up, sir? By hand or with magic?” She was completely taken aback as Snape sent a locking and Silencing Charm at the classroom door. Glancing up at him warily, she was even more stunned when he grimly pointed his wand at the puddle and Vanished the entire mess at once.

She stared at him, utterly confounded, and gasped, “But… what?”

Snape scowled at her as he slouched down in his chair, crossing his arms. He eyed her blackly for a moment before he sniffed and stared at an imaginary spot on his desk. In a low, accusing tone, he said, “I thought you had agreed that if… your feelings changed, you’d tell me.”

Hermione blinked rapidly, trying to compute what he was saying. Her pitch climbed as she weakly queried, “Wha-at?”

He pinned her with a hostile stare as he spat, “You never even looked at me.” He paused a brief moment before adding, with emphasis, “Not once.”

Hermione lifted a shaky hand to her forehead, gripping the desk with the other as she was hit with comprehension. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Incredulous, she turned her wide eyes to him and slowly said, “I was being discreet! Like you told me to!”

Snape fought the uncomfortable urge to squirm. He felt rather foolish. Unsure of what to say, he simply stared at her.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, her gaze was softer, but still disbelieving. In a low voice, she murmured, “Honestly, Severus, give me a little credit!”

Snape felt thoroughly ridiculous for overreacting in such a juvenile manner. Shaking his hair forward to shield his flushing cheeks, he rumbled sheepishly, “Yes, well… As I’ve said before, I’m not used to being wanted, so forgive me any unusual reactions…” He trailed off.

Hermione sighed audibly and relaxed. Her voice rich with humour, she retorted, “And, as I’ve said before, I forgive you, Severus, for anything.”

Snape flicked a glance at her, seeing her eyes alight with indulgent affection, and grimaced. Clearing his throat, he stood and adjusted his robes nervously. Determinedly reconstructing his composure, he shook his hair back out of his face and coolly regarded Hermione, whose eyes were twinkling up at him, a faint smile lurking about her lips. “Well, in that case… Ten points to Gryffindor for following instructions so thoroughly.” He nodded briefly to her and flicked his wand at the door, unlocking it and removing the Silencing Charm. “Hurry along to class, Miss Granger.”

Hermione nodded slowly at him and shouldered her bag. She inclined her head and murmured, “Yes, Professor.” She retreated to the door, but paused on the threshold to look back at him. Primly, she remarked, “Oh, and enjoy your tea today, sir. I do hope your throat continues to benefit. Good day, Professor.” And with that, she flashed him an impish grin and spun out of the room.

Snape sank back into his chair and cradled his head in his hands. You are an absolute emotional cripple! Good gods, you don’t deserve her. He shook his head in disgust with himself. Then, he remembered her dazzling smile again, and felt a sheepish grin creep across his face. You may not deserve her, but she didn’t change her mind. Get over yourself and your hyper-paranoid habits and learn to appreciate the good things in life for once. Having sternly ordered himself thusly, he straightened back up and took a deep breath. Now, get a grip and get ready for your next class. He began briskly moving the potion samples to his storage cupboard, suddenly remembering Hermione’s parting comment.

Enjoy my tea? When he put it all together, he realized that she had been mimicking his new ritual, making it something that they shared, and, in his surprise, he dropped the bottle he was carrying.

“Sod it…!” He jumped back as the potion splattered his robes, and saw that it was Hermione’s sample. Damn! Damn! Damn! He heaved a supremely irritated sigh as he realized he’d have to give Hermione full credit for the day’s work, since she was not responsible for the destruction of her sample—either of them. Rolling his eyes, he admitted fairly, Well, at least I know she did it right, since she’s never botched a brew yet, and it looked perfect every time I checked. His lip curling in annoyance, he glared at the mess at his feet and simply Vanished all of it, following it with a quick cleaning charm.

Students began filing into the classroom again, as he finished storing the rest of the samples, and he rolled his head back on his neck with a long-suffering sigh. Well, even though he had humiliated himself, his neck had stopped hurting! Snorting at himself, he smothered a wan smile at his cabinet and shut it firmly. Mastering his expression into its normal sour disdain, he spun back to his desk, equilibrium regained, and ready to face the rest of the day.

*************** **************************************

Hermione cast a furtive glance at Snape at the end of lunch, noticing him preparing his tea, and began to do the same. The next time she snuck a glance at him, he was peering at her through his hair as he sipped the “tonic.” She smiled gently and took a sip of her own. Now that she was certain he understood the gesture, she felt like she had at least some kind of connection to him while within the walls of the school, even though they couldn’t do anything else. Harry noticed her faraway look and secretive smile and frowned.

“What’s up, ‘Mione?”

She blinked and the smile vanished. Turning a blank look on Harry, she asked, “What?”

“You looked like you were off in another world. Knut for your thoughts.”

Hermione looked down hastily and shook her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about the play.”

Harry grimaced and drawled, “Which one? The one you saw or the one we’re doing?”

Hermione smirked and retorted, “Aren’t they the same?”

Wrinkling his nose at her deliberate obtuseness, he said, “You know what I mean.”

She snorted and sighed, “Either. Both. It doesn’t matter. I’ve just got a lot to think about.”

His tone both wistful and hopeful, he queried, “Want to talk about it? Can I help?”

Hermione sat back and shook her head. Then, seeing the hurt look in his eyes, she added, “Really, Harry, it’s nothing. I’m just trying to keep up with everything that’s going on. Thanks for the offer though.” She pushed back from the table and rose. “Speaking of, I had better hit the books! See you later.” She flashed him a smile and strode off quickly, before he could pursue matters more. I hate putting him off like that, but he’s still not back to normal, and I can’t take the chance that he’ll ever think I’m encouraging him to try anything again!

Fortunately, he didn’t press the issue, and they made their way to Friday’s rehearsal without any more awkward moments.

The rehearsal proceeded much like the last one had, with the students leaving the Hall long enough for it to be transformed before filing in to take their places. Although several people weren’t required to attend, they showed up anyway, begging leave to watch the rehearsal from the audience. Dumbledore agreed, provided they sat quietly and avoided distracting those who were working. The atmosphere was not charged with as much excitement as the last time, but it was still enthusiastic. Not even Snape’s presence quelled the buoyant spirits.

He was only required to attend by dint of his disembodied voice approving Christine’s performance. Since he wasn’t needed for blocking, Snape retired into the back of the house, concealing himself in his beloved shadows, content to watch Hermione. When they reached the point where he would speak, he used the Sonorus charm to let his voice echo through the theatre.

As his deep voice resounded, many of the cast members jumped, startled, and Snape had to suppress a snort of amusement, lest it too be broadcast. Hermione’s eyebrows rose at the sound, but her surprised expression dissolved into one of delighted amusement. She grinned at the others’ reactions and searched the theatre for Snape.

Unable to see him, she once again felt for him, determining that he was hidden in the back of the house. At least this time, it didn’t matter, and Ginny wasn’t eyeing Hermione suspiciously. Then again, Ginny was much more concerned with her blocking at the time.

Dumbledore followed the same pattern as the last rehearsal, leading the cast through the scenes and allowing everyone to make note of their blocking, then running through it two more times to check for flow. Considering his lack of activity, Snape would likely have been bored, but he was saved from ennui by the enjoyment of feasting his eyes on Hermione, without anyone having any cause to be suspicious. However, by the time rehearsal was over, he was wistfully thinking that it had been a week since their idyll, and he missed her more than he had thought he could.

He glided down to the front row to join the others when Dumbledore gathered them for an announcement. Glaring at several students who dared to look at him as he approached, he thinned his lips and drew himself up straight and formal as he pointedly directed his attention to the headmaster, setting an example.

Dumbledore was idly peering at a parchment of his notes as he spoke. “Excellent work, everyone. I’m so pleased with everyone’s efforts thus far. I will post on the notice board as well, but I want to let you know now that our next rehearsal will not be Friday, but Wednesday. And we will not be continuing from this point. We will be running through the scenes from the last two rehearsals, complete with singing. I want to make sure we go back through what we’ve done, so you don’t have a chance to forget it!” He looked up and twinkled jovially over his spectacles at the grinning cast. “So, everyone must be here for Wednesday’s rehearsal, not only for the run through, but also for a little fun I’ve decided to include amongst our cast.” He beamed at them all as curious glances swept through the assembled group. Snape’s eyebrow rose, and he narrowed his eyes warily.

Fun? Merlin, help us! If he thinks it’s fun, that likely means it’ll be hell…

Dumbledore gazed about the group, drawing out the suspense. Finally, with a chuckle, he said, “All right, I’ll tell you… Next Wednesday, everyone will need to be present to submit his or her name into a box, from which each person will draw another’s name. And you will be that person’s ‘Secret Santa!’” Exclamations and gasps met his announcement. Whispers flew through the group like a gust of wind.

Snape blinked and stifled a groan. Then, his eyes closing in a pained expression, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed gustily. Dumbledore continued blithely in his explanation.

“Since you are all required to remain at Hogwarts over the holiday, and you may not see your families, I want you all to look upon this cast as a separate family of its own. We must all help each other and support one another in this endeavour, and we should get to enjoy ourselves together as well! But, in the interest of fairness, I decided that we would do a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange, so everyone could start from the same place. I’ll have the details for you next week, so you needn’t worry about them now. But at least you have something nice to look forward to!” He clapped his hands happily as he beamed at them. “Very well then, that’s all I have for you tonight. Good work, everyone, and good night!”

Excited muttered conversations erupted all around as the cast dispersed in clumps. Snape stared after the shuffling form of the headmaster in resignation. The man is positively daft, I swear it! He ignored the furtive glances sent his way, rolling his eyes at the terror in the students’ faces at the thought of having to be his “Secret Santa.” He swept his gaze over the group, and saw that Hermione’s attention was involved by her fellow Gryffindors. Stifling a sigh of regret at not being able to catch her eye, Snape stealthily sidled past the rest of the students in his way and left the Hall. A quick glance back showed Dumbledore waving his hands at the excited students to get them out so he could transform the Hall back to its original state.

Snape stalked down the corridor and began his descent to the dungeons. Once again pausing in the shadows several steps down, he waited for the chattering gaggle of Gryffindors to climb the stairs to their Tower. He was rewarded by the vision of Hermione climbing the stairs with the other Gryffindor girls. Their heads were all bent earnestly toward one another as they whispered about the gift exchange. Snape gazed longingly after Hermione’s bushy hair as she disappeared out of sight. Sighing again, he hastily swept down the stairs, intent on vacating them before his Slytherins arrived. As he turned a corner, he heard their voices descending, and he thankfully disappeared into his rooms before they caught up with him.

A gift exchange… I hadn’t realized how close we are to Christmas already. He snorted. Not like I ever care to make note of it anyway. The only thing worth celebrating is that there are fewer students about to have to suffer. But this year, no such luck. He made his way into his sitting room and absently flicked his wand to change into his lounge wear. Sinking gracefully into his chair, he propped his feet on an ottoman and rested his chin on his fingers, thinking. I really should thank Albus for reminding me how little time there is before the holiday. I would like to give Hermione something. The only question is: what? Hang on, make that two questions: what and how? I can’t very well give her something that could arouse suspicion. Nor can I just blithely hand her a present in front of everyone. But I would like to give her something special. This bears thinking…

Snape sat and stared pensively into the fire, mulling things over in his head. Mechanically, he summoned a tea service, complete with honey and lemon of course, and prepared a cup. The tender feelings that went along with the “tonic” gave him pause, and he scowled.

So, whoever draws Hermione’s name out of the box will give her a gift. No, that won’t do at all. What if that bloody Potter drew her name out, or some other idiot? No. I want to give her her present. I want to be her—bloody hell, it’s so ridiculous a term!—“Secret Santa.” Then I’ll just have to be sure to draw her name out of the box… A positively wicked smile crept across his face. Suddenly, the full force of his innate Slytherin nature manifested itself as he plotted. Tracing his lip with his fingertip, he smirked. …Yes, I believe that will do quite nicely…

********** ***************************

Hermione sat among the other Gryffindors in the common room, listening to their talk about the gift exchange. Several people were sharing anecdotes about secret gift exchanges they had been part of before. Gales of laughter erupted at frequent intervals. Eventually, she noticed Ron looking more worried than amused and she drew him a little apart from the others, concerned.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Ron grimaced and nodded hastily before sucking in his breath, like he was about to speak, then just sighing explosively and shrugging. “Yeah, I’m fine… I just… Oh, I dunno’…”

Hermione patted his arm and murmured, “Is it about the gift exchange?”

Ron rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and screwed his freckled face up, nodding. He glanced at the group and inclined his head toward the chessboard, looking pointedly back at Hermione. She smiled and walked over to it, away from the others, watching him nervously arrange the pieces. In a low voice, he finally said, “I just don’t have much money, and I don’t know who I’ll get, or what I’ll have to get for them.” He flushed as he spoke, and clenched his hand tightly as he hissed vehemently, “I hate being poor!”

Hermione reached over and covered his hand sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Ron. I’m sure Dumbledore has guidelines for us, and he won’t expect people to spend much. It’s just supposed to be a light-hearted, fun thing, not anything major. Besides, you don’t have to buy presents for everyone you have on your list. Worry about your family. Your friends don’t need anything; we just like having you for a friend!” She smiled winningly at him and he half-smiled back.

Then he scowled and said, petulantly, “But I like giving my friends things, especially things I know they’ll like!”

Hermione chuckled and squeezed his hand again. “We know that! That’s one of the things that makes you the Ron we all know and love. You have the biggest heart around, and you’re generous to a fault.” She smiled as he flushed modestly. “Look, stop worrying. We’ll find out the details next week, and we can worry about it then, okay?”

He nodded resignedly. “All right. I’ll try to stop worrying.” He gave her a lopsided grin and squeezed her hand back. “Thanks, ‘Mione.”

She grinned at him and tilted her head. “What are friends for?” They both chuckled and stood, hands still clasped. Neither noticed that Harry was eyeing them with a gaze that was greener than usual with jealousy. Before they rejoined the group, Ron pulled Hermione into a quick hug. Harry scowled even harder. Ginny noticed his black expression and glanced around in surprise. She saw her brother releasing Hermione from a hug before he sprawled onto a squashy chair. Hermione was smiling gently as she curled up on a footrest near Lavender. Glancing once again at Harry’s face, Ginny sidled over to Hermione and nudged her. Hermione turned to her pleasantly.

“Hey, Ginny. What’s up?”

Ginny leant in and whispered, “Just what was that all about with Ron?”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the accusatory tone of the younger girl’s voice. “Not much. He was feeling a bit down, so we talked a bit about it and I helped him feel better. Why?”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. She glanced again at Harry, who was eyeing Ron heatedly. Hermione followed her look and put two and two together to make four. The redhead muttered, “And just how far will you go to help him feel better?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. Thinning her lips in anger, she stood, gripping the other girl’s elbow and dragging her away to the corridor leading to the girls’ dormitory. Ginny stumbled along in surprise. Letting go of Ginny’s elbow, Hermione planted her fists on her hips and glared at her. Ginny’s gaze flicked around guiltily.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley! I cannot believe you would even imply that I would do something with your brother, after all that we’ve gone through already. And just why are you so concerned?” She couldn’t catch Ginny’s eyes, as the other girl was keeping her sullen gaze firmly averted. Hermione stepped closer and hissed, “I saw where you were looking. I know Harry was jealous. And he’s just as stupid to feel that way as you are to feel angry for him! Honestly! Gods forbid I comfort a friend, for fear Harry will take it the wrong way… He needs to get over it. And you’re not helping things by being like this either. I know you still have feelings for him, but it’s not fair to take your anger out on me since he’s pining for me right now instead of you!”

Ginny’s brown eyes widened. Hermione had bulls-eyed that target. The younger girl’s face flushed and she looked down uncomfortably. She picked at a fraying edge of her jumper and murmured, “I’m sorry,” her shoulders slumping.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and leant back. “Boys! Honestly, are they even worth the trouble?” She didn’t expect an answer to her rhetorical question, but Ginny spoke up anyway, her voice a wistful whisper.

“I think… some are, at least.” She glanced back out at the common room before ducking her head and picking at that frayed spot again.

Shaking her head, Hermione muttered, “This is why I want a man, not a boy…” Then she thought about Snape’s little display after class Wednesday and snorted. “Though they might not be much better!”

Ginny glanced up quizzically. Hermione shook herself and briskly said, “Come on. Let’s get back in there, before Harry starts to get jealous of you too.” She jerked her head at the common room and gestured for Ginny to precede her. Ginny shot Hermione a grateful, penitent look and flashed her a tentative smile. Hermione smiled back and rolled her eyes. “Forget about it. And, keep trying, Ginny. I know you lot have shared so much already, it really would make sense for you two to get back together.” She smiled again at the flare of hope in the other girl’s brown eyes.

They joined the others long enough for Hermione to say good night and head for her room. It had been a long enough day even without tempers and emotions running high. Besides, she wanted to have some time alone to think about what she could give Snape for Christmas. The thought both warmed and worried her. She secured her door and idly scrubbed Crookshanks behind the ears as she shrugged out of her clothes and headed for the bathroom. She turned on the taps and drew a hot bath, knowing she might come up with something while relaxing in the tub. A wicked smirk crossed her face as she thought about just how “relaxing” her baths had come to be of late.

She sank blissfully into the steaming water and let her hair hang over the edge of the tub as she leant back.

I hadn’t even thought about Christmas since I got back from my folks’. I really need to get started on my shopping! And I want to get Severus something. But what do you get for someone who likely already has everything he might need or want, and you can’t find out what he likes in particular since you’re not allowed to be seen with him! She huffed in frustration.

All right, let’s go over what we already know… Oh gods, I’m talking to myself, and as if I were more than one person! I hope I never do that out loud… Anyway, he likes to read and research. Fine. Only I have no idea what he doesn’t have, which is probably not much, considering the extensive library he has down there. He likes black. Ugh. That’s not helping! He already has that fabulous satin lounge wear, so that’s no good… I have no idea what kind of music he likes. Wait! I do know he loved the play… But I can’t very well take him out to see a show. We’re a secret! I’d love to spend time with him, but I can’t even do that. Of course, even if I think of something, I have to figure out how to get it to him unobserved. Well, maybe I can swipe Harry’s Invisibility Cloak if necessary… Damn! Why does he have to be so hard to shop for!

Hermione sloshed water over the edge of the exceedingly full tub in her petulant twitch. Grimacing at her failure to come up with anything suitable, she irritably drained the bath and retreated to her room, unable to even get in the mood to take care of business while she fantasized about Severus and inhaled his scent from her old nightgown.

She curled under the covers and hugged the nightgown to her, burying her face in it. Maybe I’ll see something in Hogsmeade that’ll just scream Severus… Although, I’d like to be the one screaming that! She chuckled to herself at that lascivious thought and cuddled closer to the nightgown, reliving—for the umpteenth time—their times together in London. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.