Please see the previous chapter for the Author's Note.

And PLEASE note that this was originally all one chapter with chapter 26, but it was split into two separate chapters due to length. Make sure you read chapter 26 before you get into this one! :)

Chapter 27- Secret and Not-So-Secret Santas

Breakfast was fairly raucous the next morning, as the notice board not only had the posting about Wednesday’s rehearsal, but also had a new posting about a Hogsmeade outing scheduled for the following Saturday, December 6th. Excited conversations about holiday shopping rippled along the House tables. Hermione was relieved to note that Harry was no longer acting the jealous prat, and she joined him, Ron, and Ginny in chatting about what kinds of things they might be able to get for whomever they chose for the gift exchange. Ron kept mentioning Fred and George’s shop as a failsafe. Even Ginny rolled her eyes at that.

“Ron, their stuff would be fine for any student, but there are teachers on cast, and someone will draw their names too!”

Ron simply shrugged and muttered, “Well, there’re only a few, so I just feel sorry for whoever gets them. But, come on, don’t you want your own brothers to make some money?”

Ginny shook her head and said, “You know that’s not the point! Fine, I won’t stop you from spreading the word after Wednesday’s rehearsal.”

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

Monday morning, Hermione was surprised to receive a thin package from her parents, dropped onto her plate of toast by a school owl. Curious, she opened it and pulled out a letter from her mother. Fortunately, Ron was more concerned with stuffing his face than with Hermione’s mail. Harry was interested, but he couldn’t see clearly from his angle, and he was at least trying to be discreet about his snooping. Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice as she read.

”Dear Hermione,

We hope your rehearsals are going well. Mr. Campbell told us that his nephew was quite impressed by your singing ability. You never said you were going to sing there! What a shame we weren’t along with you to hear it. He also mentioned how imposing your professor was. Apparently, his nephew was rather intimidated by him. Honestly, I don’t understand it; he seemed so polite while he was here! And you two looked so nice when you dressed for the play.

At any rate, I got the pictures developed, and I thought you might like some copies for yourself. Perhaps, if you wanted, you could get copies of the one of yourself for your friends. Christmas is coming up, after all. I must say, it is nice to have an updated picture of you, and one that’s not in wizarding robes, so we can display it around here!

We’ll be sure to send your Christmas packages early, so the owls won’t get overworked. And I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with one of your gifts… Say hello to Harry and the Weasleys for us. And please tell Severus it was a pleasure to meet him. We look forward to seeing him again when we come out to see the performance.

We hope you’ll enjoy the holiday, even though you’re staying there. Hopefully your headmaster will do something fun to celebrate with all of you who have to stay. We miss you, dear!

Love, Mum

p.s. Tell Severus we wish him a happy Christmas!”

Hermione’s eyes goggled with a mixture of reactions, and she struggled to swallow her juice instead of spitting it out all over her breakfast.

”We” indeed! Honestly! I can’t believe she’s still so enamoured of Severus… Oh, all right, I can believe it, since I’m utterly besotted, but that’s different! So, Neal blabbed to his uncle, eh? Severus must have really scared him for him to go on about it. Hmph… Oh! There’re the pictures! How wonderful! She pulled the photos out of the package enough to see what they were, and hastily shoved the one of her and Snape back in.

Harry was craning his neck to get a glimpse, and ventured, “So, what’s up with your folks? Anything important?”

Hermione glanced up at his curious look and grimaced. “They just got some pictures developed and sent them to me. No big deal.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Pictures? Of what?”

“My mum did the whole ‘Must have pictures!’ thing before we went to the play, and she sent them to me.” She wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

Ron perked up at this and asked, before Harry had a chance, “You got dressed up for that, didn’t you? Let us see!” He reached across the table toward the package, and Hermione yanked it out of reach, scowling at him.

Harry looked at her and wheedled, “Come on, let’s see! Why won’t you show us?” He smiled winningly at her.

Flushing, Hermione tucked the package into her bag, hiding it from the boys. Struck, she remembered her mother’s suggestion. “It’s almost Christmas, and I might want to include a photo in presents…” She eyed them severely. “So, it would be better to keep them until I decide to show them or give them out. You’ll see them when I decide you can, and not until then. So, don’t try to badger me, you two!” She wagged her finger at them and scowled. The boys exchanged smug grins and smirked back at her.

Eyes twinkling, Ron held his hands up and solemnly intoned, “I promise, I won’t badger you. I won’t ask to see the pictures again.” He grinned raffishly at her and she eyed him suspiciously.

Her suspicions were well warranted, as another redhead plopped unceremoniously beside Hermione and promptly asked, “What pictures?”

Hermione buried her face in her hands and groaned as Ron and Harry burst into gales of laughter. Ginny smiled blankly at them, waiting patiently for someone to fill her in on the joke.

Harry beamed at Ginny, explaining, “Her folks sent her pictures from the night she went to the play, but she won’t show them to us. Ron just promised not to badger her, and no doubt he won’t have to, if I know you at all…” His green eyes sparkled with amusement, and Ginny’s brown eyes widened. Her smile faltered a bit before she turned her attention to Hermione, hoping she wasn’t flushing as much as she thought.

“You have pictures? I want to see them! You said that dress your mum lent you was smashing. I want to see it!” She reached out, trying to get into Hermione’s bag, and Hermione swatted her hand away, dragging her bag out of reach.

“No! You’re as bad as the two of them! I may want to give copies out for the holiday, so no one gets to see them now. Forget it, I’m not budging!” She pinned them all with a fierce glare, exasperated. They all grinned at her. Annoyed that she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace until the pictures were safely put away, Hermione drained her juice and stood, shouldering her bag away from the others. “These are getting put away, so don’t even bother trying to find them later.” She tilted her chin up haughtily at their laughter as she walked away. With a little sigh of regret that she wouldn’t get to have her “tonic,” she glanced up at the High Table and saw Snape watching her with a puzzled frown. She minutely shook her head and smiled, indicating that nothing was amiss. He inclined his head a fraction in response and relaxed.

Slipping out of the Great Hall, Hermione allowed herself to grin in anticipation of seeing the pictures of her and Severus together. Her stomach and chest did a little flutter in excitement as she skipped up to the Tower and into her room.

Warding the door behind her against any intruders, she flopped on her bed and pulled the package out again. The first picture she withdrew was of her in front of the fireplace by herself. She eyed it with satisfaction, pleased with how it turned out, and especially with how she looked in the dress and choker her mother lent her. Too bad my smile isn’t real. It’d look better that way, but no such luck.

Taking a deep breath, she reached in and pulled out the picture of her and Snape. She exhaled on a long note of satisfaction as she gazed at it. Now that’s a real smile! Oh, but look how forbidding he is! She laughed aloud. My, we do look nice together. Bless my mum for her motherish tendencies! She opened one of her bureau drawers and hid the pictures under her clothes. Then, before she shut it again, she pulled out the one of her and Snape and kissed his image. Smiling tenderly, she hid it again and shut the drawer. She tossed the letter onto her desk and gathered her things again to head to class. As she hurried through the corridors to her first class, she was lost in thought.

I think I will get copies made to give to my friends. And, I want to give one to Severus too, but I have to figure out how to get it to him! … You know, I think I’ll give him a copy of the one of us together too. Hopefully I can find a nice frame for it, and I can surprise him with it for Christmas. I just have to be sure that no one else could find out I gave it to him, or that would arouse too many questions! … I hope he’ll like it!

Over the next few days, Hermione wavered between wanting to kill each of her best friends. Harry kept looking at her with amused puppy dog eyes and whispering, “Please?” at inopportune moments when she couldn’t easily say no; Ginny kept elbowing Hermione at meals and in the common room, repeatedly asking to see the pictures, in an attempt to wear her down enough to give in; and Ron pointedly didn’t say anything about them, but made a show of sealing his lips and looking exaggeratedly at the ceiling, pantomiming that he wasn’t badgering her. Hermione was deeply relieved that Wednesday night’s rehearsal had arrived, giving them something else to obsess over.

As they sat at dinner that night, Hermione thought back to Potions class that morning.

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

She was pleased that Snape was in the classroom when she arrived early. Smiling as she entered, she quickly walked to her seat and offered a cheerful, “Good morning, Professor.”

Snape’s eyes glittered as he watched her. Glancing at the door, he flashed her a smile before settling his expression back into its normal cold scowl. He responded silkily, “Good morning, Miss Granger.” A smirk crept over his lips at her delighted shiver at his voice and the way she bit her lower lip as she looked up at him through her lashes.

In a low, falsely polite voice, she murmured, “My parents owled me Monday, and they wished me to reiterate how much of a pleasure it was to meet you.” She quirked one eyebrow at him and drawled, “Of course, it was my mum writing, so she was particularly emphatic about it…” Snape shook his hair forward to hide his amused smirk as he snorted.

“Yes, well… Likewise.” He rolled his eyes and glanced again at the door. He could hear students on their way down the corridor, but no one had arrived yet. On impulse, he pinned Hermione with an intense stare and mouthed, “I miss you.”

Hermione flushed with pleasure as she beamed at him. Then, students started pouring in and she looked down, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face. Perhaps Snape had the right of it after all; it was a handy trick.

Snape stood as everyone took their seats, glaring at them to settle quickly.

“Prepare to take notes from today’s lecture. I do hope you will at least try to keep up; but I have my doubts about your success.” He gazed disdainfully about the room, watching everyone take out parchment, quills, and bottles of ink. A small, evil smile quirked his lips as he began circulating through the room. He turned to see Hermione’s head bent as she opened her bottle of ink and dipped her quill in it, pausing with her quill poised over the parchment, ready to write as soon as Snape started speaking.

Perfect… He paced about the room, his velvet voice filling every corner as he lectured. He timed his circuit so he would come around near Hermione again as her quill would be near empty. As he paused for the students to catch up in their writing, he covertly pointed his wand at her ink bottle, barely muttering, “Evanesco.” He was inordinately pleased when she dipped her quill into the bottle again, only to find it empty.

Blinking in surprise—she could have sworn that bottle was at least half full!—Hermione hastily reached into her bag to fetch another bottle of ink. As she pulled it out of her bag, Snape repeated his action. He resumed lecturing, meandering past the flustered girl. Dismayed, Hermione searched her bag in vain, finding no more ink. Finally, she caved in to the inevitable and raised her hand.

It was what Snape had been waiting for. Turning slightly on his heel to regard her from under hooded lids, he paused in his lecture and drawled, “And just what do you think is so important that you must interrupt my class, Miss Granger?” The rest of the class looked up, all action suspended, holding its collective breath as they awaited her answer.

Hermione swallowed and faintly rasped, “I seem to have run out of ink, sir. I need more to take notes.”

Snape strode over to her desk and leant over her, glaring down his long nose. “So, our resident Know-It-All, Perfect Miss Head Girl, cannot even maintain the most basic of school supplies. How disappointing. Five points from Gryffindor for being unprepared!” He straightened away from her, trying hard not to think about the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils. Whirling, he stalked to his desk and whipped out a bottle of ink, which he proffered to her with a flourish. “Never let it be said that I would stand in the way of a student’s quest for an education. You may use my ink, Miss Granger.” He placed it on her desk and sneered down at her. “I brew my own, so I hope it meets with your approval.”

Cheeks hot, pride stinging under his scathing words, Hermione still looked up at him and politely said, “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help.” Then, she focused on opening the bottle and loading her quill as Snape stalked away.

“Now, let me continue from the point at which I was so disappointingly interrupted…”

Excellent…

As the period ended, and Hermione was putting her materials away, she frowned as she looked into her empty bottles of ink. Shaking her head, she tucked them in her bag. The other students were dispersing, and Snape was finally seated at his desk, having settled there as he finished his full-class lecture. Hermione stepped up to his desk, his ink bottle in hand.

“Thank you for allowing me to use your ink, sir.” She held it out, waiting for him to take it.

Snape flicked a glance around the room and saw a few lingering students. Eyeing her with one eyebrow raised, he rumbled, “Miss Granger, you have other classes, do you not?” Not waiting for the answer to his question, he continued, “I would assume that you may need to write in those classes, provided my colleagues are not remiss in that aspect of your education. Keep the ink, Miss Granger.” As the last student disappeared, he gazed at Hermione, his expression softening a bit once they were alone.

Hermione nodded. “Thank you.”

Snape leant back in his chair and smirked. “Besides, I know you’ll need it to fill out the bits of parchment for this ridiculous gift exchange at rehearsal tonight. And, since you won’t be able to get to Hogsmeade until Saturday, you’ll need ink for the rest of the week.”

Hermione nodded again, fervently, a perplexed frown crossing her face. “Too true. I just don’t understand it! I could have sworn those bottles were at least half full.” Snape ducked his head and cloaked his face with his hair, once again concealing his guilt.

Clearing his throat, he offered, “Could any of your friends have possibly borrowed them without your knowing?”

Hermione shook her head thoughtfully and retorted, “I don’t think so. I don’t know. Oh well, I’m sorry I interrupted your lecture…” She cast a properly contrite expression at him, then followed it with a wicked grin, adding, “and not just for your sake.”

Snape smirked again and narrowed his eyes, leaning toward her. In a deep purr, he said, “Well, if you missed anything, I can always go over it… again.” Hermione shivered and bit her lip, her eyes closing in appreciation.

Sighing, she looked hungrily at him and murmured, “Perhaps… See you at rehearsal tonight, Professor.” Tucking the ink into her bag, she spun on her heel and briskly strode out of the classroom, feeling Snape’s eyes burning into her back the whole way.

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

Before heading to dinner, Hermione grabbed a scrap of parchment and wrote her name on it, ready to place it in the box for the gift exchange name drawing. She tucked it into her script, slid a pencil inside the pages, and shrank the lot down, placing it in her pocket. As she rose from her desk, she stepped to her bureau and uncovered the picture of her and Snape, smiling at it and blowing it a kiss. It had become a habit ever since she had hidden the picture under her clothes earlier that week.

Slipping down to the common room on light feet, she warily peeked in, wondering how much she would be harassed this time about the pictures. As she approached her friends, she was relieved to find them too deep in conversation about the rehearsal and upcoming name drawing to remember to tease her.

When they had finished eating, and were just waiting for rehearsal to start, Hermione reminded the others to get their slips of parchment ready, pulling her script out and restoring it to normal size, showing them her name already written down. A flurry of chagrined yelps rippled through the rest of the Gryffindors. Several of them jumped up to race back to their dorm to retrieve their materials. A few of them had their schoolbags with them and pulled out a bit of parchment and a quill to write their names down before rehearsal started. Reshrinking her script and pocketing it again, Hermione bit back a prim smile as she watched Harry and Ron race out of the Great Hall, Neville trailing after them. Ginny had strolled over to Luna, who had her bag with her, to wheedle a scrap of parchment off her.

Dumbledore stood and shooed the cast out into the corridor. Snape stalked down from the dais and joined the few remaining students outside the doors. Arms crossed over his chest, he glared impartially at the milling bodies. Noting Hermione’s smug expression, he barked, “Miss Granger! I trust you are better prepared for tonight’s activities than you were for class today.”

Hermione pursed her lips and withdrew her script, enlarging it. With a great show, she opened it and showed him the parchment with her name on it, picking it up and waving it lightly. “Yes, sir. I learnt my lesson this morning.”

Snape’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Indeed. Five points to Gryffindor for being prepared.” Hermione blinked with astonishment.

Glancing around to see if anyone else witnessed such a stunning event as Snape giving Gryffindor House points, she nodded uncertainly and stammered, “Th-Thank you, sir.”

Snape merely inclined his head in acknowledgement and stared at her, a faint smirk hovering about his lips. She averted her gaze, looking around, making sure no one was noticing their interaction. The echoing sound of racing footsteps heralded the return of several of the other cast members. The Gryffindor boys pounded down the stairs and corridor, skidding to a stop as they noticed Snape glaring menacingly at them.

Ron and Neville blanched at Snape’s expression as he barked, “No running in the halls! Three points—each—from Gryffindor!” Harry narrowed his eyes mutinously but bit back a retort. With a final hostile glare, Snape spun and strode to the doors, leaving Hermione to soothe her disgruntled House-mates.

As soon as Snape was out of earshot, Harry hissed, “Sodding bastard! Gods, I hope he gets nothing but coal for Christmas—as black and hard a lump as his shrivelled heart!”

Ron snorted in agreement, and even Neville squeaked a faint, “Too right!” Hermione rolled her eyes, torn between irritation at the name-calling and amusement at Harry’s descriptive turn of phrase.

Sardonically, she murmured, “My my, Harry, I had no idea you could be so poetic.” Then, she grimaced and leant in closer, whispering, “Just be glad it wasn’t more points. He took five points off me for running in the halls!”

Harry’s eyes widened in indignant surprise, the angry sparkle flashing again. “What? When?”

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see Snape watching them through his curtain of hair. Deliberately interposing herself between Harry and Snape, she muttered, “When I had to meet him in the Entrance Hall to go visit my folks. I was running late, and the first words out of his mouth were to take points off.” She frowned, glad of an opportunity to shore up the façade of her dislike for the sour man.

Ron interjected, “Oi, ‘Mione, I don’t know how you’ll manage to act with Snape…”

Hermione interrupted doggedly, “Professor Snape.”

Ron sighed exasperatedly and tossed his head. “Fine! Professor Snape. Professor or not, he’s still a git.”

Determined to be fair, Hermione persisted, “Look, we aren’t supposed to be running in the corridors anyway, so he’s just doing his job!”

Harry curled his lip in distaste and muttered, “Yeah, well, he doesn’t have to enjoy it so much!”

Hermione was saved from having to answer by the doors opening and Dumbledore’s beaming face poking out.

“Come along! Let’s begin.” He waved everyone inside. As they all trekked down to the front of the house, Dumbledore announced, “On the stage you’ll see the box in which you must place the parchment with your name on it. Please do so now, so we can proceed undistracted.” There was a crowd around the edge of the stage, as everyone pressed forward to drop their slips in.

Snape hung back a moment, watching Hermione drop her slip in and edge between some other students to take her seat again. A tiny smug smile flitted across his face. Once the throng abated, he glided forward and dropped a scrap of parchment in, his name penned in his distinctive spidery scrawl. He swept the assembled group with a glance of disdain as he trod past them, back into the shadows at the rear of the house.

Dumbledore stepped up to the box, making a show of dropping his name in as well, before he shrank it and tucked it into his robes. From another pocket, he withdrew a music box and placed it on the edge of the stage. Turning to the group, he asked brightly, “Now, who needs the singing spell?” Hands shot up, and he briskly intoned “Suaviloquentia” over each person. Clapping his hands and twinkling merrily, he said, “Excellent! Places, everyone!” Then, he turned to Minerva and stage whispered, “Oh, I’ve always wanted to say that, just like a Muggle!” Minerva smiled indulgently and titters rippled through the students as they took their places onstage.

Once they were ready, Dumbledore opened the music box and pointed, crying, “Action!” He chuckled delightedly over getting to say that as well.

The rehearsal progressed fairly well, with Dumbledore only having to stop every once in a while, to correct some blocking or timing issue. Snape relaxed in the dark, once again watching Hermione and delighting in her voice as she sang “Think of Me.” He had been languidly leaning back in a seat in the back row, but as she took the stage to sing, he leant forward, resting his chin on his arm as it lay across the seatback in front of him. His chest tightened with pride and love for the woman whose sweet voice filled the theatre. The tender, blissful smile on his face would likely have been enough to send anyone into cardiac arrest had they seen it, but he was comfortably hidden in the shadows.

He once again used the Sonorus spell to lilt his one line after her performance. At least her expression of delighted wonder was in keeping with her role, as she gazed about, enraptured at his voice.

Finally, they had run through the scenes once, and Dumbledore took them back to the beginning, to go again, without stopping. Everyone was smiling with relief and pride when they finished the second run-through without a hitch. Dumbledore called everyone to sit in the front rows as he put away his script and music box. Hermione smiled to herself as she edged into the third row, to sit in the seat she had occupied beside Snape at the play. Once everyone was settled, Dumbledore waved his wand over them and murmured, “Finite Incantatem.”

Hermione felt a tingle on her neck and turned to see Snape taking a seat at the end of the row behind her, his eyes glittering with recognition of where she was seated. She flashed him a secretive smile before turning her attention back to the headmaster.

Dumbledore retrieved the shrunken box and restored it to its original size. He placed it on the edge of the stage and pulled out a scroll. As he unrolled it, it became obvious that the scroll was the cast list that had been posted on the notice board. He looked fondly over his spectacles at the assembled group, most of them alight with suppressed excitement.

“When I call your name, please come select a slip from the box. Do not tell whose name you have. If by chance you select your own, you may show me and then choose another before replacing your name in the box. In the interest of fun, keep your identity a secret from the person whose name you have chosen. I will give you the details of when we will do the gift exchange later. After the gift exchange, you will have an opportunity to identify yourselves. We’ll go over the guidelines for gifts once everyone has chosen a name. Be sure to put away the slip you choose, so it remains a secret. Ready?” Vigorous nodding answered him. “Very well. Let’s begin.” He looked at the scroll in his hands and called, “Professor Snape.”

Snape carefully hid his exultation that he would be first to choose, since the one hitch to his plan was that someone else might draw Hermione’s name before he had a chance. Standing in one fluid movement, he strolled to the box, his expression one of deliberately constructed irritation. With a long-suffering sigh, he turned his back on the group and stuck his hand into the box, feeling the slips of parchment against his hand. Barely breathing the incantation, “Adverto,” he clenched his teeth in smug satisfaction as he felt his fingertips tingle while the parchment with Hermione’s name—written in his bewitched ink—moved to stick to his fingers. It was like a magnetic attraction, and he triumphantly curled his fingers around the slip, crumpling it in his grip as he lifted his hand from the box. Giving it a cursory glance, he rolled his eyes and shot an aggrieved look at Dumbledore, who nodded, twinkling at him. Sneering at the group as he walked past them, he sank back into his seat, his whole countenance one of supreme boredom. Inside, however, he grinned at the success of his ploy.

Hermione was next. Dumbledore beamed fondly at her as she gracefully stepped up to the box and dipped her hand in. She furrowed her brow in a mock show of concentration and pulled out a slip. As she looked at it, Dumbledore overtly leant forward, trying to see the name, and she snatched it out of sight hastily. Everyone, except Snape, of course, chuckled merrily at the byplay. Glancing once again at the slip, she folded it and tucked it into a pocket, gazing at everyone, purposefully not eyeing just the person whose name she had drawn.

How odd that I should draw Ron’s name. I guess I’ll get him something for this and then the normal something I would get him anyway, being one of my best friends. She ignored the curious grins directed at her and sat, affecting obliviousness. Sniggers greeted her performance as Harry’s name was called next.

Harry grinned mischievously as he stuck his hand in the box. But when he pulled his slip out, he wasn’t able to completely hide the look of dismay that washed over his face. Gamely trying to recover, he gulped and looked at Dumbledore, offering him a watery smile before he crumpled the slip and stuffed it in his pocket. His teeth set, he trudged back to his seat as Neville was called up.

I wonder whose name Harry got. He certainly didn’t seem too happy about the prospect… Hermione’s musings were cut short by Neville’s squeak of surprise as he looked at the name on his slip. His eyes goggled, and he shot Dumbledore a look of pure consternation. Cheeks tinged pink, he nodded jerkily and rushed to his seat. Ron was next. His expression was thoughtful, especially after the previous reactions. But, when he read his slip, he visibly relaxed and shot a lopsided grin at the group. Almost jauntily, he traipsed back to his seat and lounged back in it, smiling benevolently at everyone.

Mercy, this is certainly an interesting study in human psychology. I can’t wait to find out who got whom, especially after the variety of reactions everyone is displaying!

Pansy’s naturally sour expression barely flickered as she read her slip, but she gave a resigned little nod as she flashed a fake smile at the headmaster. Draco’s sneer became more pronounced and he rolled his eyes before clearing his expression and nodding ingratiatingly at Dumbledore. McGonagall cast a chiding gaze over the group before drawing her name. A tiny smile graced her lips as she huffed in satisfaction. Inclining her head to Dumbledore, she flicked a stern gaze over the students in her House before sitting again. Ginny bounced up to the box and grinned at Dumbledore as she plunged her hand in, coming up with a slip. Scanning it quickly, she shrugged complacently and grinned again as she reclaimed her seat. Terry Boot’s eyes almost bugged out as he read his slip. Then, he composed himself with a brusque throat-clearing and nodded solemnly to the headmaster, taking his seat with a rather martyred expression.

Hermione choked back a laugh. Oh, please! It can’t be that bad! My goodness, people are really making this out to be more trouble than it is…

Dean wrinkled his nose before he caught himself and his eyes widened in chagrin, glancing warily at the headmaster. Seeing Dumbledore’s chastening gaze, he grimaced and offered a fake smile as he scrambled back to his seat. Trelawney floated up to the box, self-important as always, and delicately plucked a slip from the box. Glancing at it, she beamed fatuously at the group, murmuring, “I knew I would draw this name. I saw myself providing a gift for this very person…” Snorts and titters ushered her back to her chair. Hermione rolled her eyes and chanced a glance at Snape, seeing his hand covering his eyes as he shook his head.

Millicent blinked as she read her slip, but otherwise betrayed nothing. Parvati smiled until she read hers, at which point her smile vanished with almost comical haste. Her brow furrowed, until she saw Dumbledore gazing benignly at her. Then, she pasted a cheery smile on her face and walked dazedly back to her place. Luna’s bulge-eyed complacency was unruffled as she read her name and nodded pleasantly at Dumbledore. Susan actually blushed and gasped as she read her name, glancing furtively about before scurrying back to her seat. Lavender held her breath as she drew, releasing it in a sigh of relief as she read her slip, smiling. Hannah voiced a surprised, “Oh!” as she read hers, blinking rapidly in thought. Seamus shrugged, nonchalant. Justin soberly read his and nodded courteously to Dumbledore, his demeanour unchanged. Colin was virtually twitching with anticipation, knowing he was almost the last to go. Nervously grinning, he pulled out one of the last two slips and read it. He stilled in shock and went white. Turning pleading, terrified eyes to the headmaster, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Dumbledore shook his head gravely at the implicit plea, and Colin’s colour returned, reddening his face all the way to the tips of his ears. Curious murmurs and whispers wafted through the group at his extreme reaction. Almost numbly, Colin pocketed the parchment and stumbled to his seat. Dumbledore plucked out the remaining slip and read it, smiling contentedly as he tucked it away. He shrank the box and secreted it somewhere in his robes before turning to the cast.

“Wonderful! Now, you all have someone for whom you will be ‘Secret Santa.’ I understand that’s another name for Father Christmas in the States. This is for fun, so I want to impress upon you that you are not expected to spend scads of money on the gift. Ideally, a gift that you make is even better. Otherwise, you are to spend no more than a few Galleons for the gift. We will be having a cast Christmas party, and we will do the gift exchange there. Now, I know this weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, so keep your eyes open for good ideas while you’re out! I urge you to keep your chosen person a secret, to keep the fun alive. But, if you are in dire need of help in coming up with ideas, please feel free to discuss it amongst yourselves. There is no need to bandy about this cast’s doings with others who are not a part of this ‘family.’” He swept them with a stern but friendly gaze before he beamed once more, his eyes twinkling brilliantly under the lights. “Until Friday… Good night, everyone! And, excellent work. I am most pleased…”

The cast began shuffling, muttering excited asides as they exited the theatre. Snape slunk into the shadows to watch them leave, a smug smirk quirking his lips. The cast separated into clumps in the corridor, excitedly querying each other about whose name they drew. Snape finally appeared in the doorway, and several people turned, their voices dying as they took in his tall black figure. Crossing his arms forbiddingly, he glowered at them.

“Mere seconds after the headmaster asks that you keep things a secret, you lot gad about, spilling your guts! Five points from each House for reckless disregard of the headmaster’s request.” He smiled grimly at the shocked faces turned his way. “Now, clear off and get to your rooms! This instant!” he added, when too many students simply stared at him, struck dumb. His bellow echoed in the corridor, sending them scurrying off. He watched with morbid satisfaction as the corridor cleared of annoying dunderheads, leaving him free to stalk to his quarters undisturbed.

Up in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione sat by Ron, leaning in and whispering, “See, I told you we wouldn’t be expected to spend a lot on this gift exchange. You were worried over nothing.” She smiled at him and he grinned back.

“Yeah, you were right. So, who’d you get?” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at her.

Hermione shook her head emphatically and retorted, “None of your business. You heard the headmaster, and even Professor Snape! I’m not blabbing.” She was interrupted by Harry plopping down near her with a dejected sigh. Looking at him with concern, she asked, “You all right, Harry?”

Harry shook his head and nearly whined, “I can’t believe whose name I got!”

Ron leant forward, interested, but Hermione held her hand out, warning him not to say the name. Eyeing Harry sternly, she said, “Don’t say it!”

Harry scowled at her petulantly but merely said, “Fine. But I will tell you that it’s a Slytherin.” Ron frowned sympathetically.

Hermione primmed up her mouth and remarked, scathingly, “Just because someone is a Slytherin doesn’t necessarily mean they’re bad.” Both boys eyed her askance, and Ron waggled his hand in front of her face.

“Hello-o! Have you gone here for the past seven years? This is Hogwarts. You know, the place where Slytherins hate Gryffindors and vice versa?” Hermione swatted his hand away and narrowed her eyes.

“Well, just because that’s been the case doesn’t mean it’s right!” Harry and Ron exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. Hermione shot to her feet in pique. “Don’t go telling whose name you drew. I don’t want Gryffindor to get in trouble again!” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at them until they nodded acquiescence. “Right then. Good night.” Turning on her heel, she flounced away to her room.

She had only had time to get to her room and fling the slip of parchment with Ron’s name onto her desk when there was a knock on her door. Brow furrowed, she crossed to the door and leant close to it, calling, “Who is it?”

A muffled voice answered, “It’s me, Colin. Can I talk to you?”

Hermione relaxed, glad that it wasn’t Harry or Ginny, and opened the door. Smiling cordially at Colin, she bade him enter and gestured for him to sit in her armchair. Closing the door, she perched on the end of her bed, smiling gently at him. “What would you like to talk about, Colin?” She knew from his demeanour that he was here to talk to her as Head Girl, and she put on her best Head Girl voice.

Colin was still looking miserable, even a little green. He turned imploring eyes on her and desperately croaked, “I really need your help, Hermione.”

She nodded encouragingly and answered in a soothing tone, “Of course, Colin. I’d be glad to help you in any way I can. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Colin swallowed convulsively and dug in his pocket, pulling out the crumpled piece of parchment and extending it toward her with a trembling hand. Perplexed, Hermione shook her head and said, “Colin, you know Dumbledore asked that we keep the names a secret.”

His voice was almost shrill as he exploded, “But not if we needed help! And I need help. Lots of it!”

Hermione sighed in resignation at the wretched boy and took the slip from him. Realization washed over her as she recognized the distinctive script. Her pulse sped up as she thought, He got Severus! And he’s petrified… Poor thing, he really is quite overwrought. But what can he possibly want me to do? Voicing that thought, she asked, “Um, Colin, how am I supposed to help you?”

Colin leant forward, mute appeal in his eyes as he faintly rasped, “Trade with me?” His voice climbed at the end in entreaty.

Hermione’s mouth opened in an “o” of surprise. Glancing between the slip and Colin, she battled within herself.

You could get Severus’s name instead! It’s perfect!

But you’re not supposed to trade. That wasn’t in the rules.

Just look at Colin! He’s traumatized already. Do you really want the guilt of putting him through this?

It’s not that bad! Honestly, what is wrong with people?

Oh, come on… Not everyone is in love with the man. And you admit that he’s scary!

But Colin needs to learn to grow up!

That’s not your responsibility. Can you really turn down such a perfect opportunity?

I didn’t draw his name!

So? Who else will know besides you and Colin? He won’t breathe a word of it if you tell him not to, out of sheer gratitude! Besides, wouldn’t you rather someone who actually cares about Severus get his name? Could you live with yourself if he had to suffer what anyone else might think appropriate for him?

That decided it. Hermione succumbed and took the slip from Colin. She was immediately rewarded by the abject relief that flooded Colin’s face. He wilted in the chair, practically gasping for breath. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! How can I ever repay you?” He gazed at Hermione adoringly and she smirked, huffing. Crossing to her desk, she picked up the other slip and handed it to Colin.

“Here. Now you get Ron. I hope you can manage that at least.” Colin nodded vehemently. “As for repaying me… Don’t tell anyone that I switched with you. It must remain a secret. It’s not fair, and I don’t want either of us to get in trouble. Understand?” She stared down at him sternly. He nodded again in an excess of relief.

“Yes. Perfectly! I won’t tell a soul, I promise! You’re a lifesaver, Hermione, really. I can’t thank you enough.” He stood and grasped her hand, pumping it with each protestation. “Whew! What a weight off my mind. Seriously, I almost lost it when I drew his name. I mean, what in the world do you get for someone like him?” He grimaced in consternation. Hermione thinned her lips and rolled her eyes. She pointedly tugged her hand from his grip and looked toward the door. Colin caught on and hastily headed for the door. “Of course. I better get back to my room. And I’ll let you get back to studying, no doubt.” Hermione graciously opened the door and smiled tightly at the effusive boy, gesturing for him to exit. He stepped halfway out before turning to her. “You know, you’re not only the most brilliant witch at Hogwarts, you’re the nicest too. Thanks, Hermione.” And with that, he ducked in and planted a swift kiss on her cheek, before blushing uncomfortably and racing down the corridor. Hermione was rooted to the spot in shock. After he disappeared, she managed to regain her faculties and shut her door.

Merlin! What was that all about? I can understand being grateful, but… Honestly! She dazedly walked back to her desk, idly smoothing the crumpled piece of parchment. Looking again at the spidery writing, she smiled. Now you know he won’t get something horrible… But what are you going to give him? You can’t give him anything revealing in front of everyone. And it will eventually be revealed who had whose name, so you can’t rely on it staying secret either. You have to come up with something nice but still impersonal enough to be safe. You can always figure out how to get your real gift to him later.

She frowned at the parchment in thought. Crookshanks wound around her ankles, but she paid no heed. After a long while, Crookshanks gave up and sauntered haughtily off to curl up in her armchair. Later, he was startled out of his doze by a triumphant crow from Hermione. Opening one eye, he watched his mistress bouncing in her chair, giggling.

“It’s perfect! Oh, I can’t wait…” Beaming, she snatched up a quill and parchment and began writing. A few minutes later, she rolled it up and sealed it, turning to Crookshanks. “You know, sometimes I wish you were an owl; it’d be much more convenient. It’s too late to go to the owlery now, so I’ll just have to wait till tomorrow to send this to Mum.” She arranged her school things for the morning and laid the scroll on top of her bag. Briskly, she changed and got ready for bed, scooping up her familiar and setting him by her pillow. With an affectionate scrub, Hermione leapt back to her bureau, unearthing the picture of her and Snape and kissing it. Carefully hiding it once again, she hopped into bed and curled up under the covers, dropping a joyful kiss on Crookshanks’ head. He purred his forgiveness of her earlier inattention. Wrapping her arm around her warm, furry friend, Hermione murmured, “Don’t worry, Crookshanks. I love you just the way you are, you fuzzy beastie.” Crookshanks simply purred, lulling her to sleep.

Down in the dungeon, Snape lay between his cool satin sheets, pondering what to give Hermione for Christmas. He twined his fingers together behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

What would be appropriate to give her for this horrid gift exchange? It has to be something completely innocuous, but not ridiculous. … As for giving her a real present, I can always send her something anonymously, or slip her a note about coming to get it. … Perhaps I can send it through a house-elf instead of by owl. If I use owl post, she may open it in the Great Hall, and all of her bloody hangers-on will see. … What was it Albus said? Something about ideally making something for someone… Well, I could hardly send her a potion; that would be far too obvious, not to mention absurd. What sort of gift is a potion, anyway? … And yet… I could make something specifically for her… A slow smile spread across his face as an idea took shape.

His low chuckle echoed in his chamber as he rolled onto his side, settling himself for sleep. Yes, I think it just might work… With a deft flick of his fingers, he doused the light in his room, plunging it into velvet darkness. He drifted off to sleep with images of Hermione running rampant in his head.