"Look," Ginny said primly once Hermione had stopped her seemingly endless shouting, "you needed a getaway, and you know it. You fought in a bloody war, Hermione, when you were eighteen-years-old, not to mention the guilt you still carry for Obliviating your parents. Even after we'd won, you jumped right back into the fray—rebuilding Hogwarts, studying for and then getting your NEWTs, and then working for your parents at their dental office. Not to mention the textbook project that's completely burned you out," she concluded. "Even Harry and I had a honeymoon, and two babymoons before James and Al came along. Ron and Lavender had a honeymoon, and so did Neville and Luna, Draco and Astoria, Pansy and Theo, Blaise and Daphne... My point is, Hermione, you need this."

"I agreed to a getaway, Ginny," Hermione responded, her tone clipped. "What I did not agree to is being bullied for my time away from home."

Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously at her proclamation. "Minerva swore that Severus would behave himself—!"

"So Minerva and Severus knew about this?!" Hermione demanded.

Ginny grimaced. "No, just Minerva," she admitted after a few moments of silence. "I brought James and Al to the castle a few weeks ago, just after Halloween, to see Hagrid and meet some of the new mooncalves. Minerva invited us all to lunch and, while the boys played, we got to talking about how everyone seemed to be married and having babies, and then you and Severus came up..."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Did we?"

"You did," Ginny confirmed, nodding, and looking just a bit ashamed at that. "I mean, I know how you feel about Severus, as does Harry..."

"Please tell me you didn't go telling everyone," Hermione moaned, flushing with embarrassment at the notion of Rita Skeeter potentially getting her green manicured nails into the story and letting the entirety of the Wizarding World know about it. She could see it now... Gryffindor's Princess Lusts after Former Death Eater, and is Subsequently Rejected...

"Not everyone," Ginny assured Hermione quickly. "Just Minerva, who mentioned that Severus brings you up in conversation an awful lot..."

"Likely to disparage my work and inform the headmistress about how I still hold the status of Supreme Know-It-All of the Wizarding World," Hermione snapped.

"She didn't go into much detail," Ginny said gently. "Just that the conversation, whenever they do meet for tea, will inevitably drift towards you. All I can say in my defense is, Minerva and I really wanted the two of you to have a good holiday..."

Hermione shook her head. "Ginny..."

"...because you spend all your time thinking about others, as well as bubble up with guilt and dwelling on the past, to truly be happy," she continued. "Please, Hermione. Just try to break down the walls of animosity and move on."

"I thought I could," Hermione confessed. "I really thought I could... But he was terribly rude to me from the moment he saw me. I'll admit, I handed it right back to him, but I was so devastated that he spoke to me that way..."

"Leave it with me," said Ginny firmly. "I don't want you to worry about a thing, other than enjoying your Christmas holidays. You can do that, right?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes," she said quietly. "He did mention there was a library here..."

"Full of rare books, Minerva and I made sure of that," Ginny said quickly.

Hermione nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. "All right," she said quietly. "I'll try to make the best of it..."

Ginny scooted over in the Floo, and Hermione was greeted by Molly Weasley, kneeling just beside her daughter. "Mum..." Ginny said softly.

"Good evening, Molly," Hermione said politely.

"And good evening to you, Hermione dear," Molly responded. "Am I to understand that Severus isn't minding his manners?"

Hermione grimaced, torn. "Well, yes, but—"

Molly promptly shook her head. "Well, that certainly won't do," she said firmly. "Come along then, Ginny. We've got work to do."

"But, Molly—"

"Don't you worry about a thing, dear," Molly assured her, and then both Molly and Ginny had vanished completely. It was a small matter for them to end the Floo connection, Hermione supposed, and so Hermione rose to her feet, shuffling about the room, which was hers for the next couple of weeks, and, at last, finally permitted herself to take a look around.

There was, like the other vacant room, and presumably the other occupied bedroom, was a rosewood, four-poster, king-sized bed up against the opposite wall from the Floo. This one had a red velvet canopy and matching curtains, which too matched the expensive-looking drapes upon the massive bay window, located center stage on the wall beside her. Upon each side of the bed were rosewood nightstands, and there was a rosewood bench placed up against the foot of the bed, it too boasting red velvet, stitched expertly to the cushion atop it. The bedspread was red velvet as well, and appeared to be done up with goose down coverlets, and white sheets, with ruffled pillowcases.

The highly-polished wood floor was also rosewood, although it boasted beautiful Parisian rugs upon its surface. Tapestries hung upon the walls in the spaces not taken up by the bay window, and featured all the scenes from The Lady and the Unicorn, which quite reminded her of her days in the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. The mantel was done up with a beautiful holiday garland, with fairy lights in between the boughs of fir, and all the firewood was pine, which would make the room smell utterly Christmas-y. Directly opposite the window was a rosewood desk, filled with Christmas cards, which, according to the brochure Hermione had been permitted to look at, were available for the tenants' use for the holiday season, along with a festive variety of quills, ink, and, much to her shock, glitter in various colors. Atop the desk was a small Christmas tree, which was not rivaled by the larger spruce in the parlor, which Hermione had seen upon walking by the room earlier, although it was a nice touch.

There was also a rosewood wardrobe, located just beside the desk, closer to the bed, where Hermione had placed all her belongings upon entering the bedroom itself. Just beside the mantel was another door, which led to the loo, which was complete with a standard toilet and a rather customary-looking bidet, two sinks upon its vast countertop, a standing shower, and a huge bathtub that reminded Hermione of the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts. The bathtub was built directly into the wall and was an appealing circular shape, placed just beside a large window, with, Hermione suspected, charms placed upon it so one could look out, but no one could look back in. Outside was a view of the snow-covered land that the cottage had been built upon, and one could see clear through the forest, and, if standing on her toes, Hermione could just make out the tops of the trees.

Casting a Tempus Charm, Hermione realized that it was time to get some sort of dinner prepared for the evening, and, after changing into something more comfortable for a warm house, left her bedroom and headed downstairs. Just as she stepped off the final landing and walked by the parlor, she caught a glimpse of Severus, who was sitting in an armchair beside the roaring fireplace, a book in one hand, and staring at an owl, who was offering him a familiar-looking red envelope that, at first glance, would appear innocuous, but Hermione knew better. Just as she was about to stop Severus, the owl flew up into the air and left via the window, which opened and shut automatically for it, and Severus opened the letter.

SEVERUS SNAPE! came the shout from the letter, and Severus dropped it, looking up at Hermione for a moment, and they stared at one another, wide-eyed, as the Howler came completely to life, flying upwards and forming into the telltale pair of lips.

"What have you done?" Severus whispered.

Hermione quickly shook her head. "Nothing," she whispered back.

HOW DARE YOU BE CRUEL TO HERMIONE?! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! IF YOU EVEN ATTEMPT TO TELL ME THAT SHE STARTED IT, I AM LESS INCLINED TO BELIEVE YOU, BECAUSE SHE NEVER DID SUCH A THING WHILST SHE WAS YOUR STUDENT! IT IS ENTIRELY DEPLORABLE BEHAVIOR FROM YOU, YOUNG MAN, TO TAKE A GENEROUS GIFT KINDLY OFFERED TO YOU BY MINERVA AND GINNY, AND TO SULLY IT UTTERLY BY BEING UNECESSARILY CRUEL TO A YOUNG WOMAN WHO NOT ONLY SAVED YOUR LIFE, BUT ALSO GOT YOU ACQUITTED OF ANY WRONGDOING! IF YOU REFUSE TO GROW UP AND TREAT HER WITH THE RESPECT SHE DESERVES, OR EVEN ATTEMPT TO PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, ARTHUR, BILL, CHARLIE, GEORGE, RON, HARRY, AND I WILL NOT HESITATE TO COME THERE OURSELVES, AND BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!

Severus was staring, open-mouthed, at the Howler, and both he and Hermione watched it as it turned to face Hermione.

Oh, and Hermione dear, thank you so much for taking Ginny and Harry's advice and finally going on a Christmas getaway. Arthur and I are so proud.

The Howler turned back towards Severus, before it grew fangs and hissed at him, and then it shred itself into a thousand pieces there on the floor, before they vanished.

Hermione shuffled from foot to foot. "I am sorry about that," she said softly. "You know how Molly is..."

Severus gave a slight nod at that. "I do indeed."

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself again. "Well," she said at last, "are you hungry? I could make us some dinner..."

Severus arched an eyebrow at that. "You cook?"

"Yes, and quite well, actually," Hermione replied, her voice a slight retort. "Because of Mum and Dad working so much, I had to learn to fend for myself. So, yes, I can cook."

Severus looked down at his book for a moment. "What did you have in mind?" he asked at long last, apparently curious.

"Spaghetti and meatballs," she said softly, and Severus's gaze snapped upwards. "My mother's mother was Italian, and she taught me many of her recipes before she passed away when I was just fourteen. I spent all my time with her whenever Mum and Dad were working."

"I always thought you were purely British," Severus mused, and Hermione felt herself flushing slightly at the notion that the man had thought about her background.

"Dad's parents were French," she put in. "Grandpere and Grandmere moved from Corsica when he found a teaching opportunity in Highbury."

Severus gently caressed the book he held. "You come from teaching stock, then?"

Hermione permitted a small smile to encroach upon her lips. "On Dad's side, yes. Mum's side was a bit different. Grandfather, my British maternal grandfather, was an accountant, and my nonna, Mum's mother, was a chef. She had her own restaurant in Hoddesdon, Hertfordshire, which was called Bonasera. I used to spend hours there after primary school," Hermione went on wistfully with a small smile. "They only had my mother as their child, and she never expressed an interest in cooking that elaborately, so I inherited all the recipes from my nonna. I can still smell the fresh bread, olive oil, and garlic that permeated the place in the most delicious way, and I can only hope to recreate her recipes as I get older..."

"Do you make your own pasta as well?" Severus asked.

Hermione nodded. "I do, yes. Sauce and meatballs as well. All come from Nonna Audenzia, which she in turn learned from the entirety of the Messina family. Grandfather was there on business one summer, and stayed in the hotel owned by Nonna's father. Nonna was working in the restaurant, as the hostess, and he fell in love with her. They say that life is not a fairy tale, but I truly believe that their lives together were, despite the fact that they wanted a houseful of children, but only had my mother to carry on the name..."

Severus carefully got to his feet. "Perhaps I can be of assistance?" he asked, and Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I know how to chop ingredients, and I am a dab hand in the kitchen."

Hermione allowed her smile to broaden then as she watched him put his book aside. "Very well, but I warn you—you may not reveal the recipe to anyone. Molly and Ginny have been trying to get it from me for years, but I don't hand things over willingly."

Severus nodded his head. "Of course," he replied, and gestured towards the kitchen. "Lead on; I am at your command."

Hermione led the way into the kitchen and quickly set to work, taking out all the ingredients to make the pasta, sauce, and the meatballs. She left the large brick of parmesan cheese in the cooling cupboard for later, and indicated to Severus what needed to be done. She summoned her pasta maker and took Severus through the steps, and it was highly amusing to find that he looked rather dashing with flour upon one half of his face. Both of them sported the borrowed aprons that the house provided—Hermione's a rather ruffly red one and Severus's a more understated green one—so the Christmas theme was not lost on either of them.

Hermione permitted Severus to watch as she made what she called the meat dough for the meatballs. "It also doubles as a meatloaf recipe," she explained, "although, for the meatloaf, you serve it with potatoes."

Hermione removed the pound of ground beef, ground pork, and ground turkey from their packaging, and placed each of them into the bowl, followed by Italian-style breadcrumbs, one egg per pound of meat, some freshly-grated parmesan cheese, and finished with chopped garlic, basil, and parsley. Salt and pepper were also added as she mixed the meat all by hand, and had Severus help her roll them into balls. She joked with him about past experiences with the recipe, and told him that, one summer between second and third-year, she was helping her nonna in the kitchen at her restaurant, and they ended up with over a hundred meatballs with the meat they had mixed together. She was pleased that Severus laughed at her story, and, once they finished rolling, saw that the oil in the pan on the stove was ready.

"Right," Hermione said, delegating once again. "We fry the outside until they're golden brown, and then we bake them. If they were just ground beef, we wouldn't need to, but, because of the ground pork and ground turkey, we could get very sick if we did not."

Severus nodded in understanding, and took over frying the meatballs, before transferring them to the provided casserole dish, and watched as Hermione made the sauce in another pot on the other side of the stove. "Are all your family recipes Italian?" he asked, genuinely curious, and not at all accusatory.

Hermione flashed him a smile. "No, although a great many of them are. Grandmere taught me a few recipes, of course, but I never completely got the hand of French recipes, unfortunately. I can only hope that my paternal cousins made up for it..."

"Your father had siblings?" Severus asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. He was one of four children, and had two sisters and a brother. His sisters were my aunts, Rachael and Rubina, and his brother was my uncle, Stanley. Each of them had at least two or three children, and my cousin, Rubina's daughter, Torrance, owns a French bakery in Bath, called Blackthorn's Boulangerie."

"That sounds delightful," Severus admitted, having always had a secret fondness for sweets, especially of the upper-crust.

"Do you have any favorites?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Religieuse, pain au chocolat, Madeleines, and Éclairs," Severus said softly. "When Mother managed to hide some pence from my father, we would sneak to the little bakery on the edge of Cokeworth, and we would get all manners of sweets... She would never have any, because they made her far too ill, as my father had beat every joyful feeling out of her by that time, but I do remember those short reprieves very well..."

Hermione felt her shoulders fall then; perhaps she had truly misjudged Severus Snape... "I am so sorry that you had to go through that, Severus," she said, greatly daring to use his first name—she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. "I know it is over now, and you dislike being pitied, but I am not pitying you. Although I do feel as if it wasn't deserved, your treatment, at the hands of your father, Riddle, or Dumbledore."

Severus turned to face her, staring at her unblinking for a moment, before he gave a small nod of his head. "Thank you...Hermione."

"Yes, well," Hermione said, sputtering slightly as she flushed, returning her gaze to her sauce, and kept her fingers crossed that she hadn't ruined it entirely, "I do hope this dinner will give you a semblance of happiness..."

"I'm sure it will," Severus assured her. "It smells positively incredible..."

Hermione gave a nod. "I'm grateful for that, thank you."

"You're welcome," Severus said quietly. "I have a chocolate cake in my groceries. Perhaps we could have that for pudding?"

Hermione turned to face him again, her eyes wide. "That would be a delicious way to end the evening, Severus. Thank you."

Severus nodded, and finished frying up the last of the meatballs, before transferring the final batch into the casserole dish, and placed them into the pre-heated oven. "I wish to apologize to you, Hermione. Your acts for the last five years, and beyond, have been truly selfless. Forgive me for not seeing them in the light that they truly were..."

Hermione reached out slowly then, and squeezed Severus's arm, waiting for him to look at her before she spoke. "Thank you for your apology, Severus. I apologize utterly for the harshness of my words before. I tend to get defensive when attacked."

Severus nodded. "Think nothing of it. We're even."

Hermione gave a small smile. "I should say we are," she replied.

~*~

In the days that followed, Hermione continued sharing recipes and stories with Severus about her family. Severus, in kind, recommended various books from his private collection for her, and told her a great many stories about being Head of Slytherin. Although they still had a fair few disagreements, they would always come together afterwards and apologize. The debts, however, found them both brimming with energy and excitement, and it was those kinds of disagreements which were met with the utmost respect at the end of all things.

Hermione, meanwhile, had taken the Stinging Hexes off her groceries, and Severus had even suggested taking their names off their own purchases. They would, at his suggestion, ask the other person about a particular food item if they wished to use it, and would respect the buyers' wishes if the answer was no, or Apparate down to the supermarket in Truro to replace it, if it was deemed necessary. Co-existing with her former professor, to Hermione at the very least, seemed to be working.

While Hermione sent out Christmas cards from the provided collection in her borrowed bedroom, devouring the collection of books Severus had given her or from the tomes in the library, she also spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen, making wonderful wintery food for her and Severus to share. The next evening, they had leftover spaghetti and meatballs; the following evening, Hermione had made coq au van, her one French recipe she was proficient at; the third night, potato and leek soup and fresh bread was on the menu; for the fourth night, she made a magnificent lasagne that was also her Nonna Audenzia's recipe, which Severus claimed to be complete perfection; on the fifth night, she made a chicken and mushroom pie, with homemade crust; on the sixth night, she made a simple meal of cheese toasties and tomato soup; and, finally, on their first Sunday, she did up a roast beef with roasted potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, gravy, and winter root vegetables.

"You are spoiling me, Hermione," Severus informed her on Sunday night, when his eyes widened at the chocolate gateau she'd made for their pudding.

Hermione shrugged. "I love to cook, and we need to eat. I certainly don't mind being the person in the kitchen for our holiday."

Severus spread his napkin in his lap. "Provided that you will permit me to clean up whatever you have left in the kitchen."

Hermione flashed a smile at him. "I will. Now, would you like me to wake up with you tomorrow, so you can have some porridge and fresh fruit before you head out into the woods to do your harvesting?"

Severus had accepted Hermione's invitation to provide him with a hot breakfast, and she had shooed him away afterwards so that she could clean up the mess, and he could make his way out into the snowy world to harvest and cultivate. Hermione was amused that Severus had taken his work along with him, although she couldn't blame him. He was, after all, married to his work and, even as the owner of his own owl order business, there would always be a demand for potions, holidays be damned.

Hermione, after cleaning up the kitchen, had a long, hot bubble bath in her large tub afterwards, treating herself to the notion that she would have the cottage to herself until dinnertime, as Severus had said he would be out until dark. Hermione had insisted upon packing him a lunch, which Severus had accepted, of a sandwich, crisps, fruit, celery, and carrots, along with a bottle of water. She hardly wanted him working himself into a frenzy without proper nourishment, or to deplete his magic in the process.

After her bath, Hermione returned to her bedroom and had a bit of a lie down. She would be making a beef stew later that day, with the leftover roast beef, potatoes, vegetables, and gravy, and wouldn't need to start it until teatime. She figured that, because it was still so early in the day, and she was on a getaway, she could get some more sleep, which was exactly what she did, much to her enjoyment. Upon awakening, she discovered it was just after three, so she changed into a pair of Christmas themed pants, a jumper, and socks before putting up her hair into a bun and heading downstairs into the kitchen.

The house was a bit cool, so she stoked the fire in the parlor before she walked into the kitchen, casting a few Warming Charms as she went. She gathered the necessary ingredients for the beef stew, and made some dough for some fresh bread to go along with it. In no time, in between nibbling on some meat and cheese while sipping a cup of tea, the stew was bubbling merrily away in its pot upon the stove, and the bread dough, which had already risen, was baking happily within the confines of the oven below.

A tap on the window startled her, and Hermione turned around, grinning at the sight of an owl she had sent for. Crossing the room and opening the latch, she thanked the owl, rewarding it with a piece of dried meat, and took the parcel from it. She offered the owl some water as well, which it took, before it flew off through the snow, presumably back to where it had initially come from in the first place. Smiling to herself, Hermione re-latched the window and enlarged the parcel before she unwrapped it, grinning at the box in her hands, which had a sticker placed upon it, reading Blackthorn Boulangerie, in curled, formal script.

Hermione had written to her cousin, Torrance, about her situation, and told her it would be wonderful if she could make an emergency order for Christmas, which Torrance was only too happy to fulfill. Upon opening the box, Hermione grinned at the beautiful pastries, cakes, and biscuits that greeted her eyes. All of Severus's favorites were accounted for, plus Hermione's favorites, as well as some others that Torrance recommended. There was a little message, written in a Sharpie marker on top of the box, which read, Happy Christmas, little cousin! Lots of love, I hope you adore everything! – Torrance

Hermione placed the box upon the sideboard, and lifted her head, just as the wards pinged. It was perfect timing on Severus's part, and she proceeded to dish up the soup, and slice up the bread in record-time, just as he opened the door and proceeded to take the snow off from his boots. "You are just in time, Severus!" she called out to him, recognizing his magical signature as it blew through the house, closing the door on the frosty air behind him. "I hope you like beef stew! I know you like my fresh bread," she continued as she lay the table, "but the stew... Well, you liked the roast beef last night, so my fingers are crossed that you'll like—"

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively.

Hermione immediately snapped out of her monologue about dinner, and set everything to rights at the table before she followed Severus's voice out of the kitchen, and into the parlor, where he was kneeling beside the fireplace. Hermione gripped at the apron she wore, for the entirety of the picture did not make sense. "Severus, what is it?" she asked. "Are you hurt?"

"Not me," Severus assured her quickly, unwrapping his winter cloak, and, as Hermione stepped closer and peered within its confines, she gasped.

"Severus..."

"I found her outside, deep in the woods, just as the blizzard began," Severus explained, putting the small kitten he held as close to the fire as possible. "I couldn't leave her there. I know that you have a fondness for cats, Hermione, and while I won't force you to lift a finger for her, I will be needing some advice on how to care for her, as I myself have never kept a cat, and Argus was never an authority on these things, despite his devotion towards Mrs. Norris..."

Hermione stepped even closer and knelt beside Severus, watching as the kitten slowly opened her eyes, staring up at Hermione with ice-blue orbs. "She looks to be no more than seven or eight weeks old, but she's very tiny," she said softly.

Severus nodded. "I feared she may be the runt of the litter, and that her mother may have left her and moved on, preferring to tend to her stronger kittens..."

Hermione shook her head. "While it is in their nature to do that, it is nothing short of devastating to consider, let alone hear about," she replied, reaching out and gently touching the kittens' snow-colored fur, which was striped with black, and the little feline mewed at her, which only set the ice around her heart at the notion of ever getting another familiar to melt. It warmed Hermione utterly, especially as the kitten extended her paw towards her, and Hermione looked up at Severus, who nodded, and Hermione took the little thing into her arms. She pulled herself closer to the roaring fireplace, and the kitten purred against her.

"Why don't I get us our supper, and we'll eat it out here?" Severus asked.

Hermione nodded. "That would be wonderful."

Severus hesitated for a moment, a small smile upon his lips as Hermione gently rocked the kitten, who was still purring mightily. "Perhaps... Some warm milk would not be remiss?" he asked, and Hermione looked up at him. "In old stories, they used to provide kittens with milk, but I heard it makes them ill..."

"If they're adults," Hermione told him, returning his smile. "If they are still young, and this little one clearly is, it will not hurt them. They only become lactose intolerant when they reach full maturity, adulthood. For now, it will be all right, Severus."

Severus nodded his head. "Very well, then," he replied, and walked into the kitchen. "I just couldn't leave her there," he continued speaking, and she heard him gathering up their supper with a small smile upon her face. "Poor little thing was crying out to me..."

"Perhaps she thought you were her father, all that black you wear," Hermione joked, leaning downwards and pressing a small kiss upon the kittens' head.

Severus laughed aloud, before he returned to the parlor a moment later, levitating a large tray with their supper placed upon it, and carrying the large box. "I found this on the sideboard," he remarked as he returned to sit beside her, and Hermione reached out for the bowl of warm milk that Severus had fetched, before placing it onto the floor just in front of the fireplace, and set the kitten down, who eagerly began to eat her dinner.

"Yes, I wrote my cousin for it," Hermione informed him.

Severus was silent for a moment, as the pair of them were clearly captivated by watching the kitten having a warm meal. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lip then, wondering if she was flushing naturally, or if it had to do with the closeness of the fire. "Because I wanted to," she said softly.

"Hermione," Severus said firmly, but not unkindly, as he reached outwards, and placed a gentle hand upon her arm, directly causing her to face him. "Why did you write your cousin for a box of treats? Truly."

"Well, I..." Hermione hesitated for a moment; with their friendship so new, she still wasn't fully aware of all his triggers, or, rather, what would inadvertently set him off. She wanted desperately to understand him completely, and yet, that was asking for so much of the man, who had already done so much for her, for Harry, and the entirety of the Wizarding World. Surely, she couldn't ask for everything, now could she?

"Hermione?" Severus asked again.

Hermione finally permitted herself to smile softly at the man. "When you spoke of your times with your mother, of eating those French treats..." She shook her head softly. "You seemed so happy when you spoke of those memories..."

Severus inclined his head. "They were indeed. Happy memories."

Hermione nodded her head. "Well, I wanted to bring you a bit of happiness this Christmas, and, well, I suppose I don't want you to think of merely of those particular memories as lurking in the distant past. Perhaps, they can be a part of your future as well..."

Severus gave Hermione a small smile, before reaching in between them as taking his hand in hers, and Hermione felt her heart stutter for a moment as their skin made contact for the first time, and was shocked to discover just how warm Severus was. "I would like that very much, Hermione," he replied, his gaze holding hers for several uninterrupted moments, before drifting back to the kitten again. "She will need a name..."

"Pruina," Hermione said softly, following his gaze, only to feel it upon her face once again as she spoke. "It means frost or snow in Latin."

"Perfect," Severus responded, and Hermione turned to face him, flushing all the more as his eyes never left hers. "Utterly perfect," he said again, and nothing could be heard but the fire, crackling in between them and their new companion.