The students looked completely stunned by Severus's outburst. Albus and Minerva appeared rather amused, but the other professors seemed to be nearly as shocked as the young people.
Inwardly, Hermione was grinning fit to burst, although she tried to school her expression to something mild and innocuous. She had never imagined that she'd be able to garner a reaction as marvellous as this, and she wondered what she could do to make him laugh like this again. As soon as possible. It was a rich baritone, and she found it positively enchanting. There was nothing snide or derogatory in this laughter; it sounded as though it were coming straight from his soul, spilling out in joyful amusement and causing him to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes as he recovered.
Severus made his way into the room and found his seat next to Minerva. Hermione could have sworn that there were lines on his face that had disappeared with that laughter and not come back even now that he'd finished. He was still tall and dark and grim, but an edge of the forbidding had worn off. Or so it looked to her; judging by the expression on most of the students' faces, they were more worried about either their sanity or his than they had been previous to his entrance. Only the sixth-year Slytherin—Gleeson, if Hermione remembered correctly—who had been brave enough to sit next to the empty seat which Severus would occupy didn't look completely disturbed.
"Albus," Severus said, face almost composed, "I must compliment you on your decorations this year. They're positively tasteful, and the colour scheme is so refreshing."
Minerva's eyes were dancing with laughter and Albus's were twinkling merrily.
"Thank you, my boy. Minerva made a similar observation. Unfortunately, I cannot take credit for the lack of festive colours. I'm afraid this isn't the state in which I left the Hall last night."
"No?" Severus asked, feigning surprise. "If not you, then who could have done it?"
"I was hoping you could answer that question for me, Severus," Albus said, and he would have succeeded at sounding nearly grave were it not for the merrily twinkling eyes. "I confess that I thought immediately of you when I saw what had been done."
"I can't imagine why," Severus said dismissively, as though every person in the Hall hadn't immediately thought of him when they saw what had been done. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to decorate."
"Hmm," Albus said contemplatively.
Minerva spoke up, sounding helpful, but Hermione suspected the older woman was really just enjoying Albus's being trumped. "It must have been someone who was thinking of you, Severus."
"I can't imagine who." Severus did not so much as glance in Hermione's direction. "Why didn't you simply change the decorations back if they disturbed you so much, Albus?"
The headmaster cleared his throat, and Minerva's stern face broke into a full-fledged smile. A smirk appeared on Severus's face.
"Don't tell me you weren't able to make the appropriate alterations?"
The headmaster didn't say so, which answered the question quite effectively.
Severus cleared his throat. "Well then, it seems that you're looking for someone skilled in Charms and Transfiguration."
He eyed both Minerva and Filius, who immediately disavowed all knowledge of the events.
"Then I am at a loss," Severus said simply. "Surely you're not saying that a student could best you, Albus?"
As one, they looked over at Harry and Hermione, who looked at one another and then back at their professors and shook their heads.
"We went to bed around midnight, Professor," Harry said earnestly. "And we've been together since early this morning opening presents and enjoying our gifts. We didn't have the opportunity to perpetrate such a … crime."
Hermione, I have to say it again: you're the smartest witch of your age. You know I love you, right?
She gave him a mental smirk. I love you, too, Harry. It was sort of irresistible.
You can do the same for Valentine's Day, right?
I suspect he'll have worked out a way to prevent me by then, but I'll see what I can do, she promised.
"Well, whoever's done it, it is a remarkable transformation, Albus. I recommend you hire them for next year's decorations," Severus said, seemingly quite serious.
Minerva gave in to her laughter, and most of the table joined in, although the younger students looked uncertain as to whether or not they should be laughing at something that might be seen as casting aspersions upon their headmaster to his face.
Albus nodded. "I shall certainly keep that in mind."
As a suggestion to ignore, Fawkes contributed, and Harry and Hermione grinned at him.
The meal began, first with the pulling of the Christmas crackers and then with the food. The Hogwarts elves, like Kreacher, Winky, and Dobby earlier, had completely outdone themselves.
It was quite a cheerful meal. In addition to the professors who had stayed for the holiday, there were seven younger students, two sixth-years, and Harry and Hermione. The younger ones didn't seem to know precisely how to act in present company. They managed to talk amongst themselves, however, and the older students took care to periodically inquire about innocuous topics such as what the younger ones had received for Christmas, allowing them to have the floor for a period of time without feeling self-conscious.
Wisely, the first attempt to ask about favourite classes was quashed, given that all the Heads of House were here, and Hermione was sure that none of the younger students would feel comfortable answering that question in their presence. Hermione briefly toyed with trying to get a rousing consensus on everyone's least favourite class, but she didn't suppose that would be a wise attempt, either. And really, it would be impossible for her to explain that she was actually quite fond of the material and was fond of the teacher, too, when Severus wasn't being an utter prat.
Once the meal was over, they went their separate ways, the younger students eager to have the snowball fight which Filius and Pomona had agreed to oversee. Hermione was glad that she hadn't been made to volunteer; she would have done it, but she didn't much feel like trooping out into the cold to watch over that sort of activity.
She and Harry headed back to the dungeons, Severus a few steps behind them, they realized, when he asked to see her. She waved Harry off, telling him she'd return to their rooms later, and allowed Severus to escort her where he willed: in this case, his office.
Once the door was closed and privacy charms cast, he turned to face her, and she found that he was smiling again, that genuine smile that she saw so rarely on his features and which made him look his age rather than older and angrier.
"Thank you, Hermione; that was quite enjoyable."
She raised an eyebrow and played dumb. "I don't know what you could possibly be referring to."
His expression turned sharp. "You know exactly what I'm referring to, meddlesome witch; the number of people at this school who could charm the decorations such that Albus would have difficulty easily charming them back can be counted on one hand. I place some reliance on Filius's and Minerva's disavowals, and since I had no part in what occurred, that leaves you or Mr Potter. The answer readily presents itself."
"Is the perpetrator of such a crime to be placed in detention? Or lose more than ten House points?"
He shook his head solemnly, although the glint in his eyes suggested that he might actually have been pleased that she'd had the sense to clarify this before admitting her guilt.
She smiled faintly. "I might have popped into the Great Hall this morning."
"In order to make a decorative change or two?" he asked pointedly.
She shrugged and said nonchalantly, "Perhaps a small alteration here and there."
His expression softened. "I will savour the look on Albus's face and only regret that I was not present at his arrival."
She grinned. "Me, too."
Severus smirked. "I believe it calls for celebration. Tea?"
They'd just come from a ginormous Christmas dinner. She didn't feel as though she could eat another mouthful.
"Yes, please," she said promptly.
There was no way she was giving up this opportunity if he was in a thoughtful and not snide-as-hell mood.
They made it about halfway down the hall from his office towards his quarters when they were interrupted by Gleeson, who was hurrying to inform his Head of House that Peeves was making a great racket three corridors down from the Slytherin common room, no doubt with a nefarious purpose.
Severus looked as though he wanted to use a few select curses, but he turned on his heel, and the three of them rushed back towards the source of the disturbance.
They'd almost reached the corridor in question—they could hear Peeves yelling something, accompanied by numerous loud bangs—when Hermione felt a spell hit them.
There was a moment of shocked silence, and then they burst into song.
Despite Severus's amazingly happy and carefree-sounding singing, he was glaring fit to turn both of them to stone, but since they were singing by force as well, there wasn't a great deal that they could do.
As they hit the chorus, Albus emerged from his hiding spot, blues eyes twinkling like mad, clearly pleased that his ambush had been successful.
When the last strains of Jingle Bells died away, Albus bid all of them a happy Christmas and swept Gleeson off to go ensure that Peeves was now behaving. Since it seemed that the poltergeist had been drafted by the headmaster, Hermione wasn't overly concerned about their fate.
She and a quietly fuming Severus made their way to his sitting room. She wondered if it wouldn't have been wiser to have ducked out when she had the chance and followed the headmaster and Gleeson; being stuck in a room with a completely irate Head of Slytherin was not exactly her idea of a brilliant time. But she'd said she'd have tea, and skiving off and potentially making him angrier had seemed imprudent.
No matter how angry Severus was with the headmaster, it was unlikely that Albus would ever see any of the simmering rage that looked to be perilously close to overflowing right now. Since this couldn't be the first time that the headmaster had riled Severus with something childish like this, he either had a method of coping with it privately or she was going to be in for one hell of a time.
Once the door was closed, Severus started pacing the length of his sitting room furiously, whipping around so quickly that his robes swirled all the way around his legs. She stood just in the doorway and watched him for several moments, gauging the chance of her being attacked out of hand. Eventually, she shrugged somewhat fatalistically and moved to sit by the fire.
She Summoned his teapot, feeling it would be unwise to rise again, conjured water, and set it to boil as she helped herself to his tea canister and made them tea.
She noticed there were no festive decorations in evidence anywhere in the room. Not terribly surprising, she supposed, but it meant there were no handy items on which he could take out his fit of temper.
The tea was Earl Grey, so she left it black, Summoned teacups, and served them. She Banished his to the table next to the chair he was not occupying and settled back in her chair with her own cup.
She had the chance to cast a Warming Charm on his cup, drain hers, and pour herself a second before he really seemed to recall her presence.
He sat down heavily in the other chair and took up his tea.
"I'm certain we can Obliviate Gleeson," she offered, "but it would probably take a little more work to get Albus. I can make the attempt if that is your wish."
Severus made a face. "I'm certain Albus already has it distributed into several Pensieves and has no doubt shared it with Minerva and everyone else he knows."
Her lip curled. "I wouldn't put it past him, I suppose."
"And am I to Obliviate you myself?" he asked, a hint of dark amusement in his voice.
"I was going to go with swearing me to secrecy, as it happens," she said mildly. "You can certainly try to use a Memory Charm on me."
"You honestly think it would be more difficult for me to charm you than for you to charm Albus?" he asked sceptically.
She shrugged. "I can really only speak to my own intention to avoid the charm, which is quite serious, and now I am forewarned."
"Perhaps I will call upon your services later," he declared finally. "This is not over."
"You'd think Albus would have better sense than to start an altercation like this with someone who knows how to hold a grudge like you do," she said with much less thought than she should have employed; as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back.
Fortunately, Severus's lips curled up, indicating that he had, against all expectation, taken the remark in good humour.
"That's quite an accurate observation," he said dryly. "Hopefully, I will be able to point it out to Albus one day."
She smiled at him.
"How has your Christmas been thus far?" he asked.
Not one to quibble when Severus suddenly decided he not only knew what small talk was but that he desired to use it, she not only told him that she'd been enjoying it thoroughly for the most part but also gave a brief run-through of what she'd received, as she had not volunteered the information over dinner.
"I hadn't realized you were still in touch with Mr Krum."
She smiled. "Oh, Viktor and I never stopped writing to one another. It's been nice to keep in touch with someone from the wizarding world who has gotten away from the war; he's in Bulgaria and quite happy there. It helps remind me that Voldemort doesn't have control over our entire world."
"I notice you haven't mentioned a gift from Mr Weasley."
Her lips tightened, and she answered with forced evenness. "That would be because I didn't receive one."
"You must surely be aware by this time that he's a hot-headed prat."
This surprised a light laugh out of her. "I had noticed, yes. It still smarts."
"You sent him a gift, of course." It wasn't a question.
She nodded, wondering if she was that predictable to everyone. "I'd already bought it. We've been friends for a long time, and it seemed foolish to throw all that away over one altercation even one where he was behaving like a vile, reprehensible worm."
"The worms of the world protest," he said dryly.
"I didn't say snake."
"The snakes of the world thank you," he added in the same tone.
She smiled at him, really enjoying the fact that he was being so light-hearted and reasonable. "I did receive a gift that I at first thought might be from him."
"Oh?" Severus asked politely, as though he didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about.
Nodding, she described the book bag briefly, continuing to explain, "I doubt that he would be capable of charming it or willing to take the time."
"Leaving the identity of the giver uncertain?"
"Leaving me with only an educated guess," she answered, obediently playing along.
"Perhaps you and I were given gifts by the same person," he continued coolly, "as I also received a gift that was anonymous in nature."
"Oh?" she prompted in turn.
"A set of rare and expensive ingredients for potions. They all come from a Basilisk, and the quantity which I received indicates an astronomical expenditure."
"Hmm," she said, as though giving it serious consideration for the first time. "Perhaps whoever gave it to you had access to a dead Basilisk and was able to harvest the ingredients rather than purchasing them."
"Dead Basilisks are hardly prolific."
"True. But the person in question may have a friend who happened to kill a Basilisk once upon a time."
Severus closed his eyes briefly, opening them with a long-suffering look. "I had thought that rumour unfounded." She gave him a pointed look, and he sighed. "As I recall, that particular incident occurred some time ago."
"The friend in question might have been unaware of the commodity's value. When it was pointed out to him subsequently, he might have agreed that the person in question could harvest as desired, so long as the remaining carcass was Vanished. That person might have thought that you could benefit from these ingredients."
"Then I am grateful to this person," he said, "as such a gift betokens considerable deliberation."
She nodded. "I'm quite pleased with the thought that went into my gift."
Talking with her Slytherin professor was irksome sometimes, but it had its own rewards. They could completely skirt the issue of whether or not it was sensible for the Head Girl who was a Gryffindor to be giving expensive gifts to the Head of Slytherin, and the ex-Death Eater spy similarly didn't have to be concerned about any gifts being traced from him to the Muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter. Yet they both knew that they'd done it and approved one another's choices. She wondered if he'd actually asked her down here solely for that reason.
"You are no doubt enchanted by Mr Potter's gift to you?"
There was a sourness there that hadn't been present before, and she wondered if she could just refuse to speak about Harry so that they could continue their nice conversation.
"They were lovely, but … not my favourite gifts," she answered slowly.
"No?" he asked, clearly fishing for a more elaborate answer.
"No. But that is between me and my conscience," she said firmly, because there was no way that she could give him that much.
"As you say," Severus said with studied nonchalance. "I wouldn't want to force you into an awkward position."
"Of course you wouldn't," she agreed cordially, trusting that he understood what she wasn't saying. He seemed less cross, at any rate. She wished he could forget entirely that Harry was a Potter. She supposed a Memory Charm to the purpose would still be considered illegal.
"He is no doubt wondering what is keeping you," Severus observed.
"He can mind his business," she answered. "We're quite able to spend time apart, you know."
"I've heard a rumour to that effect," he said coolly, "but observation suggests otherwise."
She frowned. "We live together, we're fighting the same war, and we're taking half of the same classes. We eat meals at the same time just as the rest of the students do. To be perfectly frank, there aren't that many opportunities for us to be apart." Aside from the times she spent out in the Forest at night, but she could hardly mention that.
He was gazing at her very intently. "But you'd spend less time with him if you could?"
"I didn't say that," she negated immediately. "I'm very fond of Harry."
"That's a rather lukewarm response to your lover."
She sat up straighter in her chair as the conversation strayed sharply into dangerous territory, leaving her with no choice but to end it. "Perhaps I'm simply not comfortable discussing my feelings about Harry with you."
His face grew expressionless again, and he rose from his chair.
"I would expect no less from you, Miss Granger." It felt as though there were more weight behind those words than she really understood, but Severus continued before she could decide if she had the guts to question him, "I have a very busy afternoon."
She followed his lead, rising to her feet, although what she really wanted to do was point out that when he hadn't even reissued his invitation for her to call him by his first name, he couldn't reasonably expect her to answer these very personal questions.
"Of course, sir," she said instead. At the door, she hesitated for a moment and forged ahead before she could think better of it: "It's difficult to be entirely frank while under constant threat of point loss and detention, sir, and that is not within my power to change."
She didn't wait for a response but continued out into the corridor and made her way slowly to her quarters, hoping that she wouldn't discover that her parting remark had cost her House more points. Her hint had been less than subtle, but maybe it would make him consider the situation from her point of view.
Harry was in their common room almost bouncing with excitement as he contemplated the Eyesight-Correcting Potion. He had evidently decided that now was the time to take it. His expression dimmed considerably when he saw her.
"'Mione, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she answered, forcing a smile that probably looked about as convincing as it felt.
He continued to look suspicious. "What did Professor Snape want?"
"To thank me for the decorations in the Great Hall."
"And then to yell at you and put that look on your face?" Harry added pointedly.
She grinned weakly. "We might have had a bit of an altercation at the end, but that's nothing new. You look as though you're ready to give the potion a try."
His expression indicated that he was well aware that she was changing the subject, but he let her get away with it, smiling down at the dull green liquid.
"It's still hard for me to believe that drinking this will correct my eyes." He looked excited once more. "I mean, I know magic does amazing stuff, but I've been in the wizarding world for years now, and nobody's ever even suggested it."
"It's not the most straightforward potion to make," she answered cautiously.
His head came up, and he gazed at her narrowly. "And it uses unusual ingredients? Expensive ones?"
"That's usually the case," she admitted when she realized he wasn't going to simply abandon the topic. "It helps if you have your own personal supply of Basilisk ingredients."
He made a face as he gazed down at the bottle again. "Tell me there aren't parts of that bloody snake in here."
"There are no Basilisk ingredients in there," she responded promptly.
He snorted, rolling his eyes as he said, "Thanks. I believe you completely. So it didn't cost you an arm and a leg?"
"All body parts intact," she confirmed. "And since you gave me the entirety of the 'bloody snake', I'll be able to handle an additional expense now and again."
"Like I said then, knowing it's not down there anymore is a relief to both me and Ginny, and that's all I want to know about it."
Harry had been less than pleased about the prospect of going back into the Chamber when she broached the topic of the snake's harvest at the beginning of sixth year. They had discovered, however, that since all she needed to do was request that the sink and the door to the Chamber itself "open", she could memorize the Parseltongue so that Harry would not need to be with her.
After checking a million times to make sure that she didn't mind being down there on her own, Harry had happily left her to her harvest. She owed a thank you to Salazar Slytherin for creating the giant Chamber of Secrets and keeping it freezing cold and practically hermetically sealed, which had preserved the corpse as it lay well outside the warmer chamber behind the Salazar statue.
It had taken numerous trips and hours of toil—because the work had to be done by hand, rather than with magic—but she had successfully reduced the giant snake to piles of ingredients, and she'd Vanished what little had been left. Whenever she needed to get the ingredients out of the Chamber, Fawkes, although he had pretended to grumble about it every time, had been perfectly willing to transport her.
It had taken her months to distribute the parts anonymously and responsibly to buyers in other countries so that Voldemort wouldn't get suspicious. Severus was still the only person to whom she'd given any venom, as she would not risk such a potentially dangerous ingredient hitting any market while Voldemort was still alive. The blood and organs still fetched a hefty price, followed by the bones, which were usually ground into powder and also used as potion ingredients. While the skin was not quite so precious—it couldn't be used in potions but worked like dragonhide as protective clothing—there was a huge quantity of it.
"Plus," Harry pointed out, smiling brightly, "you know how pissed off Tom would be if he realized a Muggle-born was selling off the Basilisk's body parts, so that's all right."
Hermione smirked.
"And," he added for good measure, "you're using it for the good of all and whipping up miracle potions."
"I wouldn't go quite that far," she said dryly. "Perhaps you had better sit down on the couch and have your potion now." Before he credited her with inventing the wheel.
He sat, uncorking the vial and sniffed cautiously at it, nose wrinkling at the odour.
"I didn't make it for its smell," she said tartly, and they both laughed.
He drank the potion, grimacing horribly.
"Nor, sadly, for its taste." She sat down next to him. "Now take off your glasses and close your eyes. It's less disconcerting that way."
He did as instructed, waiting patiently while the potion reshaped the curvature of his corneas. When she was certain that the changes had taken effect, she bid him open his eyes. He did so, blinking rapidly several times as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.
"'Mione, it's even better than when I have my glasses on. You're the best!"
He threw himself at her, and she hugged him back tightly, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head.
"You're very welcome, Harry. I'm glad it pleases you. There are a great many people who are going to admire your beautiful eyes now that they can see them clearly."
He blushed, and with eyes that looked bigger and greener without his glasses, he really did look fantastic. She had to quash the urge to say so just to see him blush more.
"I'll just have to tell everyone that it's thanks to my beautiful best friend that they can see my eyes at all."
It was her turn to colour faintly, and he seemed to think that he'd acquitted himself well, for he returned to his side of the couch and retrieved his glasses, tapping each lens and charming the prescription out of it.
"I can get used to being able to see properly without glasses when I'm alone, but I'll keep these ones with plain glass in them so nobody else will know."
It was a tactical advantage, and they both knew it. One day soon, she sincerely hoped, they wouldn't have to think like that anymore.
He put his glasses back on and looked, Hermione thought, not quite as happy as he should.
"You know," she said, "it's Christmas Day. I think you should enjoy my gift to its fullest." He looked quizzical. "No glasses for the rest of the day."
He happily allowed himself to be persuaded and spent several moments staring at the whole room without glass between him and the objects that were catching his eye.
They read for several more hours, but while Harry was a good deal more studious than he had been in the past, he didn't really like to sit with a book all day like she did. When he began to get restless, she set her own book aside.
"So, Boy-bird, anything you're dying to do? To learn?"
He set down his own book with alacrity, looking mildly relieved. "I assume we're keeping up with our training."
She shook her head. "I mean something just for you."
A faint flush burned up his cheeks, but he didn't speak.
"Out with it," she urged.
"I … can't dance," he confessed in a rush. She blinked. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. He seemed to think more explanation was necessary, for he continued, "Draco can dance. He was so graceful during fourth year."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Harry's flush deepened. "I know. I was jealous over Cho then. I thought I was watching Draco because he was," he floundered for words, "my enemy. But I apparently sort of noticed the, er, loveliness at the same time, and I never quite forgot about it."
She smiled. "That's sweet, Harry. I'd be happy to teach you how to dance."
He opened his mouth but wisely rethought what she knew had been about to come out and closed it again.
"You don't really think Viktor was the one who enabled us to distinguish ourselves at the Yule Ball, do you?" she asked pointedly.
Hermione's dance lessons, when she was younger, had always had more girls than boys in attendance, which was why she was able to take the man's part and teach a man to lead without trouble.
Harry seemed quite struck by this and said presently, "I'm an idiot, yeah?"
She snorted softly. "Don't worry about it."
He shook his head stubbornly, saying with a frown, "I know you know a million things, but I tend to assume that it's all book stuff, which is totally daft given that you can kick my butt. I don't mean to underestimate you. I don't want to be guilty of what Ron does."
She smiled. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. You've just done the one thing that Ron never manages gracefully: apologize. I know you didn't mean anything by it, and it isn't as though you often see me dancing."
He relaxed, his lips curving up. "Not so frequently, no."
"We're unlikely to get quite so far as 'distinguished'," she confessed, "but if we start right away, we'll be sure you don't make a fool of yourself by the end of the hols. That all right?"
He nodded enthusiastically, apparently not minding that his best friend was about to teach him how to dance. She considered for a moment how awkward Ron would be about it, then pushed the redhead firmly out of her mind. Comparing him and Harry was generally an exercise in futility because they were two very different people.
She started with the slow waltz, as it was one of the most basic and most likely to be danced at the high-end functions where Harry seemed to be mentally dancing with Draco. She was amazed anew at how Harry, who could be grace personified on a broom, could be so inept on his own two feet on the dance floor—but that was rather like Viktor, she supposed.
If Harry had learned anything during the Yule Ball, it seemed to be forgotten, and her feet suffered a fair few blows before she had the idea of getting him to meditate and slip into a light trance. This worked like a charm. When his brain wasn't engaged in trying to make him perform the moves, he was perfectly graceful, his body responding to all her cues. He danced without the rigidity, nervousness, and frequent looks down at his toes that had marked his conscious efforts.
Rendering him capable of dancing like that while fully conscious, aware of his partner, and able to hold a conversation was clearly going to take a good deal more practice. But dancing was an excellent cardiovascular exercise, so she was happy to add it to their daily regime.
"Leading and following aren't just useless terms, Harry," she told him when he tried to protest the knowledge she was trying to impart along with the dance steps. "We're doing this alone in our room right now. On a crowded dance floor, the person who leads has to navigate around all the other couples. The person who follows has to accept the lead's cues or there can be collisions and other accidents on the floor that I'm sure you would rather avoid."
She could almost see him envisioning the Prophet headlines, and he took her instructions much more seriously from then on.
By the time Christmas Day was drawing to a close, he could manage a pretty smooth waltz. When she made him lead, his coordination of their changes and turns still left something to be desired; he seemed perpetually surprised that he was the one in charge. They both thought that Draco would lead, but she also imagined that the blond Slytherin was the sort to appreciate that Harry had gone to the trouble of learning—should they ever be in a position to let Draco know, of course, but there was no harm in dreaming. Besides, as far as she was concerned, Harry should be able to lead even if he was never given the opportunity as Draco's partner; even if they did get together, it didn't mean Harry would never dance with anyone else.
The clock chimed the midnight hour once more, and she and Harry took their Veritaserum capsules and then changed into their pyjamas and read a little more before bed. Harry was extremely serious in his desire to become an Animagus.
The days passed. Obedient to their agreement, Hermione made sure nothing that smacked of schoolwork crossed her eyes before the twenty-seventh. They still spent a fair bit of time reading, and Hermione also did a lot of brewing, wanting to get very well stocked in all the potions she thought the Infirmary might need for the winter term. The more she could get out of the way now, the less she would have to do during term time.
She and Harry continued to practice dancing on top of their other training. Harry was getting quite good at the waltz. Once he saw himself really improving, he gained a lot of self-confidence. It helped that no one else had to witness this learning curve, as had been the case during the Yule Ball. As he really started to relax, even when he was leading, he was far less prone to losing the thread of conversation as he concentrated on not tripping them over the ottoman or into the Christmas tree as they twirled around the room.
Once she thought he genuinely had the hang of it, she conjured several large cloud-like blobs that were roughly people-sized and had them waltz around the room. This way, Harry would have some practice keeping his eye out for other moving shapes and learning to work his way around them without appearing as though he were anxiously scanning for rabid Death Eaters.
"Your partner will appreciate if you focus at least a fraction of your attention on him or her," she reminded him for the umpteenth time. His gaze was pinned to Dancing Cloud Number Four.
He looked back at her sheepishly. "You make it look so easy. But when I'm doing it, there just seems to be so much I have to watch out for."
"What's difficult to the uninitiated looks positively simple when done by someone who is skilled. Have you watched me do my Arithmancy homework recently?"
He laughed. "Point. I don't much like not being good at things, I guess."
She readily confessed her own dislike of that sensation.
"Unfortunately," she conceded, "the only way to overcome that is to learn, and that means a period of time during which you are a novice rather than accomplished. But you're a fast learner, Harry. I assure you that there were people in my dance classes who couldn't do this after months of work." Which was a bit of an exaggeration, but he seemed to need a boost. "You've got a good memory and you're plenty graceful when you don't get so stressed that you stomp all over your partner's feet."
He faltered slightly as he laughed, and she had to quickly shuffle her feet out of the line of fire. He almost stumbled to a stop as he tried to apologize, but she forced him to continue.
"Making a mistake is not the end of the world. You look awkward when you drag your partner to a halt in the middle of the dance floor in the middle of a song. So long as you smile charmingly and keep going, no one will notice, and your partner will admire your aplomb."
He made a face. "You've met the man I'm hoping will be my partner; I don't think that would be his reaction."
She smiled, pleased that he was continuing to be so open about it. "I think you'd be surprised by what you can get away with thanks to that smile, Harry. Smashing his feet every other step would be annoying, but showing him that you're not at your best but that you're trying hard for him anyway is endearing."
"Why do you know these things and I don't?" he asked plaintively, sounding totally clueless and lost.
She laughed. "I don't think you have a very good sense of your own charms."
"That's called being conceited."
She shook her head. "You're a little too good at recognizing your failings. You undervalue yourself as 'just Harry'. He's an outstanding bloke all on his own."
He smiled at her. "Thank you, Hermione. I think living with you is much better for my ego than living in the dorm with the boys."
She smirked. "I'll be sure to send you back if you get too big-headed."
"So long as you promise to keep an eye on it, then, I'll try to be more aware of my charms," he said with a moue of distaste.
Her smirk widened into a grin. She didn't think there was much danger of his ever becoming too assured in that regard.
They had several more training sessions with Severus, as well as with Tonks once the Auror returned. She was looking happy and relaxed, which pleased Hermione tremendously as she imagined that Remus was in the same state. Since they'd sorted out their difficulties before the woman left, these meetings thankfully ran smoothly.
Kingsley was able to stop by a couple of times, and Remus arrived for several days altogether that had nothing to do with the moon. He looked as happy as she had hoped. After the first session they all had together, Harry, Severus, Tonks, and Kingsley managed to get into an extended argument about the wisdom of tracking under-age magic.
It didn't impact any of them anymore, but that didn't prevent them from having strident opinions which they apparently all felt the need to bludgeon one another with over the holidays. While this was going on, Hermione led Remus over to a corner and cast a Muffling Charm, which was a standard part of the privacy charms she cast when she was in an area where others were near enough that they might expect to overhear what was being said.
While a Silencing Charm blocked any and all sound from the area that was being protected, it also made it dead obvious that it had been cast. The Muffling Charm blocked all the original sound but the listener heard an indistinct chatter which left them feeling as though they could almost overhear the discussion.
Remus looked at her curiously. "I've been doing my homework, I promise."
She smirked. "That wasn't actually what I wanted to speak to you about, but I'm glad."
His look of curiosity deepened.
"I hope you won't take this the wrong way," she said, "but none of us would have been upset if you'd come back here together."
He gazed at her uncomprehendingly before shock was painted across his features. "How did you—?"
She snorted. "I'm not blind. I've seen how the two of you look at one another. You don't have to hide it. Honestly, we'd all be happy for you."
Remus looked over at the group of arguing people on the other side of the room, and he seemed doubtful. "I don't think they all—"
Hermione cut him off, listing them on her fingers. "You don't need to worry about Kingsley; he knows that Tonks can take care of herself, and he'd never gainsay her choice. Severus would probably have smart remarks no matter who you choose, but he knows your choice is your own. Since he would advocate someone who knows about your condition, he can't logically argue Tonks. And if your real concern is Harry, you should know him better than that. He cares very much for you, and he's very fond of Tonks, as well. He wants you to be happy."
Remus swallowed heavily. "I'm not sure—"
"It sounds as though you're not sure of your choice," she prompted.
He let out a sigh, the happiness gone from his face as though it had never been, and he looked suddenly tired. "I'm … very fond of 'Dora, but there are so many more worthy men out there, men who are younger, and richer, and not werewolves."
The look she gave him was fierce. "But she doesn't want a younger, richer, or different man, Remus. She has accepted you as you are. You can't tell her that she's made the wrong choice unless you seriously doubt her decision-making capabilities. Do you think she's stupid or imprudent?"
He shook his head.
"Then you have to trust her judgement in this as well as other cases. She knows where she can trust her own heart."
"I wanted her to wait until January, at least, so I'll know if there's any chance." He swallowed. "It would be better if I were just a man."
"And if the cure doesn't work, will you push her away then, too?" Hermione asked severely. "You can always come up with excuses if you're unwilling to risk your heart, if you don't think she's worth it."
He seemed almost dumbfounded by this rephrasing of his doubts. "Of course she's worth it!" he snapped.
She smiled. "Then you have your answer. You think she's worth it, she thinks you're worth it, and now you get to kiss and be happy."
He stared at her speechlessly and suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss into her hair. It was the first embrace that she'd ever seen him initiate, and she was thrilled. If only she could regulate her own love life so easily.
He slowly released her, and they discovered that the argument on the other side of the room had ended and she and Remus were now being stared at. As Hermione took in Tonks's expression before the older woman managed to school it, she realized that hugging the man who was in a secret relationship when Tonks was right there was not Hermione's most brilliant idea ever. Remus was completely clueless, clearly so happy about the resolution she had worked out for him that it didn't seem to occur to him how it must have looked to Tonks.
"Did you come to a resolution?" Hermione asked, deflecting the attention from the two of them to the argument.
"Of course not," Severus said shortly. "I'm arguing with two Ministry officials. Of course they think the Ministry is all that is noble and good."
"A house-elf's Hover Charm nearly getting me expelled and being dragged before the Wizengamot for using a Patronus against a group of Dementors, those were just flukes," Harry said facetiously, nodding his agreement with Severus.
She was pleased that Harry and Severus had inadvertently ended up on the same side. The argument looked close to starting up again when Tonks abruptly declared that if the training was over, she had to go.
The others shrugged their agreement. Remus looked puzzled and only more so when she left without a goodbye. Hermione doubted it was a good sign that the Metamorphmagus's hair had started changing from bubble-gum pink to blood red. Hermione loudly told Remus how glad she was that he was staying for several days and then dragged him to the door so that she could toss up the Muffling Charm again and mutter, "You gave me a giant hug."
He looked at her blankly, his expression turning slightly hurt and resigned as he inferred that she was put out by the contact, although how he could think so after she'd hugged him back at length, she didn't know.
"For the love of all that's magical, Remus, I'm not upset that you did it, Tonks is."
Understanding washed across his features, and he gazed after the woman with a suddenly troubled expression.
"Go, nitwit," Hermione urged, giving him a shove through the doorway. "Now isn't the time to analyze, it's the time to charge after her. Beat down her door. Explain before she has time to work herself into a righteous rage."
He finally seemed to process some part of what she was saying and darted after the woman he loved. Hermione shook her head as she allowed the door to close behind him, wondering if all men were born stupid. They needed some sort of emotional education that they apparently weren't getting, anyway.
She had enough experience with Cho Chang and Lavender to know full well how women reacted when they thought she was competition for a man she had absolutely no interest in; hopefully Remus would be successful tonight so she wouldn't have to put up with the cold shoulder from her DADA professor.
The three men left in the room wrapped things up, Kingsley declaring that he had to return to London, and Harry and Severus separating immediately so that they weren't in any danger of having a willing discussion between just the two of them. Heaven forbid, apparently.
She realized that Severus was looking at her more narrowly than Harry was.
"You and Remus seemed to be having a much friendlier conversation than we were," Harry observed cheerfully. There wasn't an ounce of suspicion in his voice.
The Boy Who Lived to be unjealous, apparently. Perhaps she would have a little talk with him about proper boyfriend behaviour; given the garrulous gossips of Hogwarts, it would probably be better for Harry to remember to be a little more possessive of her.
"I helped him resolve an issue that had been troubling him, that's all," she answered circumspectly. "It made him happy."
"So we saw," Severus said darkly.
There. That was the tone Harry needed to adopt for these sorts of situations, and Severus could manage it just because they were discussing one of the Marauders. Maybe she could get Severus to give Harry pointers…. Perhaps not.
"I'm always glad to help a friend," she answered, pretending she hadn't noticed the tone.
"You seem to be very good at it," the Slytherin pronounced snidely.
Hermione had no idea who he was referring to, and since she was used to getting tone from Severus for no particular reason, she once again answered as though there hadn't been any. "Thanks. Back to our quarters, Harry?"
Harry nodded and after bidding farewell to Severus—which got them a very curt nod in return—they made their way back to their quarters. Sometimes, Hermione had discovered, the only way to deal with Severus was to walk away.