Hermione tucked her final few items into her bag and sighed as another little bead fell off of it. Apparently even during the Christmas hols, time wasn't going to stop reminding her how it marched on. Ten years in May since the war, and the bag wasn't the only item of hers that proved it had been so, but she was not to be deterred. Luke was due to arrive soon, and waxing nostalgic was just not on the itinerary.

Throwing on a muggle coat for Statute of Secrecy purposes, Hermione grabbed her wand, draped the bag over her shoulder delicately, and walked out to her living room where her fireplace simmered close to embers.

Meeting the family was no big deal, it was not her first time doing such. Was she hoping it would be her last? Indeed. Was it because she loved Luke or because she was tired of meeting families, though? The answer illuded her.

The swinging of her grandfather clock only made her more antsy as she glanced at her wristwatch in tandem. Tossing a silencio at the older, more persistent time piece did not make her feel better, in fact, it only made her jump from her skin when an owl tapped on her apartment window. Being so high up, she vanished the glass and let the poor thing in before replacing it so the muggles down below didn't see anything suspicious.

The letter was from Luke, and her stomach churned when she saw an extra address attached. It said in what looked like rather apologetic words that he wouldn't be able to go with her to his parents immediately and that he'd be joining them hopefully sometime Christmas Eve. Hopefully.

Hermione could have cried. He was often busy as a healer, but she couldn't imagine what was so important that his agreed-upon time off had been infringed upon so badly. It wasn't as if he were a healer for the emergency ward, he did cosmetics.

She attempted to stifle the tears, rolling her eyes at the idea his family would still welcome her despite the fact her presence was already a surprise. They'd been together over a year, but the prior year it was too early to say if they were going to last, and then neither of them had ever gotten around to telling practically anybody. Not that she had much in the way of family.

With that thought, Hermione wondered if she should wait out the next few days at the Burrow. The idea wasn't half bad, if not for the fact Ron would be there domineering everything. The more reserved side of Molly that came post-war had dragged her and her husband into seclusion and gave her children the chance to strong-hand the family's decisions. Ron had stepped up into this role with enthusiasm and hubris, much to everyone's surprise, and what was even more shocking was that it was with fucking Daphne Greengrass at his side. Sure, seeing Harry, Ginny, Draco and the kids might be worth it, but she could see them outside of that environment which was preferred over the strawberry-blonde heads of hair that reminded Hermione of her own failed relationship with Ron like a stake to the heart.

Luke's family was the better choice. Because being alone only assured she'd spend the next few days either drunk or crying to movies she used to watch with her parents.
Hermione stowed his letter away, took up her wand, and steadied her breathing, apparating from her living room to Tetbury. She stumbled immediately into a bushy area with a few trees and knew she'd mucked up before her knees hit the frozen ground. It felt like someone had torn her open elbow to wrist. Her left arm was splinched six ways to Sunday, and the sight made her stomach churn along with the agonizing pain.

A screech emitted from her as she clutched at the wound through her coat, her wand-hand coming away in copious amounts of blood. No amount of adrenaline was going to get her through it, either, while she shakily reached for her wand. It took all her will-power to lean to the ground and wrap her fingers around it, sobs coming from her throat that sounded animalistic at best.
Merlin, she was quite the scene.

Rocking with pain, Hermione tried to think of what to do, as dittany wasn't exactly something she carried with her these days, and she fell short at the sound of footsteps. Bloody hell, her only thought was that she hoped it wasn't a muggle.

The answer was arguably worse when she saw crisp, pointed, black shoes come into her blurring vision. They had red-bottoms which nearly made her laugh if Severus Snape's face didn't bend into view. Hermione wanted to pass out, but at least he was a wizard and could help her, no matter the dramatic performance being slashed open gave him.

He produced dittany from seemingly nowhere and began whispering a healing spell she'd never heard before, the pain subsiding on contact as he distributed the essence onto her arm in unison. Clarity came to her in a rush.

He looked up from his work and asked, "Are you alright, Miss Granger?"

She hissed and nodded.

"Where am I?"

"Just outside of the Prince estate and land. Tetbury in The Cotswolds."

Prince... Circe's tits, Luke was one of those Prince's? It was a common enough last name, she hadn't thought anything of it, and because their relationship wasn't public, no one had seen fit to bring it to her attention either. Had Draco mentioned his godfather spending Christmas with his family? She really didn't think he'd mentioned him at all recently, and weren't all the Prince's supposed to be dead?

"I thought you were disowned," she chose instead, looking at him warily as he healed her arm in low, almost song-like words.

No, Severus Snape was not her favorite person in the world, and she didn't owe him anything except maybe a polite thanks for having stitched her up in what looked to be top form as she examined his healed arm.

"Indeed. So was this side of the family. They just happened to wait out the war and all the bigoted members until the estate and funds became theirs."

Hermione sighed. Right, and now she was here to spend Christmas with them all. Bloody wonderful.

"Why are you here?" Snape asked her as they sat stark in the middle of a rather large lawn, lined by a cluster of trees and shimmering wards. Was that why she'd splinched herself?

"I'm Luke's... significant other."

This amused him. His hands went into his pockets, and Hermione did her best to fight saying something that would make the next week extremely awkward.

"And where is my wayward cousin?" He asked off-handed as he broke their eye contact in favor of putting the stopper back on the dittany and standing up.

"Work."

He looked at her as though she were bloody insane, and truth be told, she felt like it.

"Well, I suppose that leaves me duty-bound to escort you there."

He offered her an arm and she noticed his fancy wristwatch on his other hand, reminding her exactly how well this man was doing these days. She was shaking like a leaf as she touched him, and after that brush with immense pain, at least he wasn't mocking her for that. Not openly anyway. There was nothing stopping him, except maybe propriety, though he'd never adhered to that before.

She did, however, and found it in herself to thank him as he walked her slowly towards a house in the distance shrouded by trees. It was a miracle she'd gotten so close to their land when she had intended to end up closer to the main bit of the town.

"Thank you, for all this. My head wasn't on straight when I left my flat, and as you can see, it really got the best of me."

"Anyone would have done the same, Miss Granger. I just happened to be here, it's fortuitous that I also know where you need to go."

"Call me Hermione," she said. The power dynamic would feel a little more even that way. "Please."

He eyed her from above, and she worried for only a second he would throw her down.

"I insist on Severus, then, Hermione."

"How did you find me?" She asked, curious if her screams had got his attention or if he often went looking for witches in need. Merlin knew that's what the papers thought of him.

"I was out walking and saw you collapse. You were putting up quite the fight for how badly you'd splinched yourself."

"At least I didn't lose a limb."

Her muttering made him chuckle, and she tried hard to not let it surprise her, but anything other than dour didn't exactly fit the Severus Snape that had dominated her childhood. He took note of her surprise as she suspected any good spy would.

"We should come to an understanding that it's been over ten years since we've properly interacted, and neither of us will be as the other remembers. Elsewise this upcoming season shall be most uncomfortable."

Hermione nodded.

"I agree. As far as I know, I've never known you, Severus."

She hated calling him by his name as much as she expected to. It went against her carefully carded brain's rules.

"Nor I you... And when will Lucas be putting you out of your misery?"

"Christmas Eve," she said without as much malice as she felt was deserved. "He said I'd be welcome, but I am fraught with worry over the whole thing, I mean I hate to be another unexpected guest, and now arriving without him seems gauche."

"Angelica is a warm woman. Just remember none of this was theirs until ten years ago, and that should ease your worries."

The fact Snape was being helpful knocked her brain around enough, let alone her boyfriend's parents being warm and welcoming as well. Sure, it would explain where Luke got it, but her head was resistant to kindness.

"Not to mention it's time he brought someone 'round, Luke is nearing on forty."

Hermione scoffed. Luke was in his early-ish thirties. Nearing forty seemed a bit dramatic.

"Do you have a problem?" She breathed out the question as they came to a stop in the middle of a road, her chest exhilarated from the splinching and proceeding walk.

"No."

The smug bastard smiled at her, and she huffed.
If they were going to go back and forth all night, maybe she would rather go to the burrow.

"I like Luke and I am not what The Daily Prophet makes me out to be, which is why until this season we haven't actually told anyone... not that I owe you an explanation, but seeing as you're family to him-"

"Hermione," he grasped her wrist gently, stopping her from going on, and when she looked at him, he looked earnest. "You're right, you owe me nothing. My comment was filled with concern, call it lingering care for the welfare of my students, or maybe familial obligation."

She couldn't help herself this time as she laughed.

"You had a very strange way of caring for us."

He smiled, accepting the barb to turn thorns in a friendly, joking manner. No more poking it seemed, as he swept over and offered his arm with a steady bow.

"Shall we head in?"

In the light of the lamps along the drive, Hermione noticed for the first time his teeth had been fixed to a fitting pearl and straightness for his age to match his lighter countenance and hair only touched by grays at the temple. Frankly, she couldn't ever imagine it succumbing completely to white.

Originally, meeting Luke's family had worried her dearly, even when the original plan had been to meet them together. She was just glad to have a different familiar face with her, even if he wasn't her favored Prince.

"Has Luke told you anything of this family?"

"Not much, he loves his parents a great deal though he doesn't speak of them or to them often," she admitted, gravel crunching under their feet in the background.

"Angelica and Simon Prince, my mother's second cousins apparently. Her great Uncle had married but never had children, or so we thought... anyways, they were a poor working family by choice who had been taught humility quite a few times, but lucky for them, Voldemort was never able to find them. They didn't even know there was a war they'd been so cut off from everything... I have a feeling it's part of why they accepted me so easily. When the ministry found the funds and unlocked them under Kingsley's new order, they tried to give the Prince money to me but the vaults said no, there were other relatives, hence their inheritance after they were found. It was kept rather hush, which is why no one ever made the connection, and probably why you two never realized one-another's notoriety."

Hermione was so shell-shocked she had no choice but to agree.

Wizarding inheritance was a weird thing.

Although she needn't ask where Snape got his current fortune from. Everyone she knew and everyone she didn't took his sober-up and hangover potions. They went down smoother than water, and Hermione recalled many a morning they'd saved her poor, screaming head after her split from Ron.

"So it's just his parents here?"

"No, Simon's siblings are both witches, one married to a muggle woman, the other to an American wizard. Clarice and her wife Vic have two adopted boys in their twenties still figuring things out. Penelope and her husband Luther are younger than Luke and expecting, she's the youngest of that generation by far. Luke has a younger sister-"

"I didn't know he had a sister," she said with a pout.

"Yes, Jane Prince. She's married to a Beauxbatons graduate, Raoul Marion. An okay wizard, brilliant financier and arithmancer. Oh, and can't forget the house elves will be there as well. They're salaried, before you pull out your knitting needles, and they sit with the family for meals."

Hermione smirked. So he remembered her S.P.E.W. days? Fantastic.

The house came into her vision and nearly filled it, while Snape offered her a brow that asked in no short terms if she was ready. One could hear the full parlor from outside... She need not ask why he had escaped on a walk to run into her splinched and bleeding on the lawn. Hermione swallowed any fear she had and nodded, letting him reach through the family wards and open the door.

"Simon!" Severus announced as he pulled her in to follow inside, "I found a guest on my walk."

"Severus, you didn't tell us you were bringing a friend."

A man who looked nearly identical to Severus with what she had to assume was Luke's nose and maybe ten years older came through the crowd of people suddenly staring at Hermione who smiled and completely forgot about the fact she was bleeding out five minutes prior.

"I was not... this is Lucas's girlfriend."

That word didn't sit right with Hermione, but she did her best to hide it. She wasn't sure what it was about Severus Snape saying girlfriend, all she knew is that she hoped he didn't have to introduce her like that again. What an unnatural word to come from him. Not to mention she'd never heard Luke go by Lucas before, and couldn't wait to rib him for it.

"How lovely to meet you, Lucas's girlfriend," Simon said with a joyous smile, one that emulated Christmas cheer and instantly endeared Hermione to him. "And where might Lucas be?"

"He got delayed at work..." She could think of no muggle-friendly way to describe what he did and smiled weakly at the group now studying her.

"They know all about Magic, don't fret," Simon assured her, walking up and reaching out a hand, "My name is Simon Prince, and this is my wife, Angelica." He gestured vaguely to a woman who looked strikingly like a lost Weasley and then shook her hand.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Oh? You got an Order of Merlin from the war, didn't you? Like Severus?" Angelica asked her.

"Yes," she answered politely, giving them a slim smile. There were a lot of eyes looking at her.

"Well, come on in, dear, tell us about yourself."

And so she did.

Snape was kind enough to fetch her tea and then returned to the edge of the room where he took up with Penelope's husband Luther, watching on as she talked about herself and the years she spent at Harry's side. No one seemed to pry about Luke and hers relationship, which she was grateful for. They were sad to find out he wouldn't be joining them until Christmas Eve, however. By the time they'd finished interrogating her, it was time for most everyone to retire, and Severus offered to show her to what would be Luke's room.

"They're all very nice... and rather accepting for the few muggles."

"Magic is paramount in this family, it's how they've survived so long going undetected. It would be hard for them not to know of it, at this rate. It's just best if everyone knows, needless to say."

"Understood," Hermione said, letting loose a yawn that felt as strong as she was tired. Her steps were slow and labored. "Forgive me."

"No need," Severus replied, stopping on the second floor in front of a door painted in the nicest light blue Hermione had ever seen. The doorknob was gold and a bit tarnished, but lovely still.

"This is Lucas's room, and now yours. I'm the green door down the hall if you need anything."

"Thank you, Severus." She'd nearly called him Snape and blushed furiously over it.

"You're welcome. Sleep well."

"You too."

She slipped inside of her room and closed the door with relief. Luke's family was wonderfully kind, and the holiday was off to a decent start all considering. Hermione readied for bed with only a slight ache in her elbow and looked forward to the coming morning attempting not to spend any time pondering over Severus Snape being a new companion.

Breakfast was slightly worse. Penelope was nauseous and everyone seemed to fret over her while Penelope wanted nothing to do with the fretting. Severus was absent, Hermione's own lifeline who'd even offered to let her knock on his door, was gone for her first meal with the family. She scarfed down some toast and disappeared back upstairs with the excuse she had to brush her teeth leaving the never ending Christmas music playing in the distance. She hadn't been to a meal that chaotic since her last one at the burrow in '06.
Wiping her palms on her jeans, Hermione knocked on the green door.

"Severus," she said, tamping down the bit of anxiety that came with bothering him. Hermione knocked again for good measure and then pushed her hair out of her face.

"Good morning, Miss Granger." The old address slipped in as he opened the door right after her knock, his face not exactly amused by anything, but not quite perturbed either. At least she hoped.

"You weren't at breakfast... anyways, I was thinking last night, and I wanted to pick your brain on some matters."
"It is half eight, you insufferable woman."

Hermione felt the sting immediately, but she wouldn't let it curb her. This wasn't Hogwarts, he couldn't snatch house points, and she could throw everything right back at him. Part of her imagined he might like it if she did.
Squaring her shoulders, she said, "I know not all of us can be spritely and young to get up at this time of day, but there is coffee to aid the older of us."

The look she got satisfied her beyond belief, but the uptick on the corner of his mouth after he'd digested her words pushed all of her anxious feelings away.

"What can I do for you then?"

"Wolfsbane..." She started, trailing off into the abyss of academia as Severus led her to the library, sharing that he'd partaken in breakfast with one of the house elves in his room.

The Prince library was impressive, and Hermione might have been tempted by several rare tomes she saw, but getting answers out of Severus Snape was just a smidge more entertaining.

For anyone who wasn't living under a rock, they knew that he'd used his Order of Merlin and war hero status to start a potions business. While many people had been wary that a past Death Eater was attempting to poison them, the flavored line of sober-up potions had shut them all up, and that was second on Hermoine's list of inquiries. She needed to know how he managed to get flavoring into the potion without nullifying the effects.

The way he spoke of brewing and creating was unlike the way he'd taught it. There was a novelty and almost intimate fascination that clung to every word, expressing his intrigue with gestures and the rare smile. Not everything about Snape had changed. Hermione heard the underlying frustration with people who didn't understand the subtlety of his art, who couldn't keep up with conversations that lulled down different paths like genealogy where one little turn brought you an entirely different family tree.

"And the thing I've discovered above all else is the danger one wrong turn can give. Potions are fickle things, Miss Granger, and I've been mostly lucky to have competent staff producing my stock."

He took a sip of tea that had been brought round by one of the very friendly elves, and Hermione grimaced. He'd put so much sugar in it that she wondered if Luther hadn't taught him such an abominable thing. It didn't seem to faze him either, his face unchanging as she looked down at her dash-of-milk tea.

"Have there been any variations you've found by accident this way? Not all mistakes are such," she noted.

Another rare smile.

"An intriguing question, but I fear I might be close to talking myself hoarse. I can answer you tomorrow, as your question requires some thought."

Hanging in the air was an explanation that need not be said. Hermione could see the silvery-white scars on his throat, they were little dots and some were small gashes that had been knitted together by decent wand-work, yet scars like that were unavoidable when you'd been mauled by a cursed and part-crucifix snake.

"That's more than agreeable. I have been eyeing a few books on the shelves too, I hope the Princes don't mind."
Severus only shook his head.

"Just be careful of the tomes."

Hermione agreed willingly, surprised when he also plucked his own choice from the wall and settled down with it. He'd picked it so intentionally, there was a fluid way about him in everything he did, that she wasn't afraid to admit how enthralling the trait was. Looking at him, though, it was hard to relate him to Luke. Luke was strong, roughly Harry's size, and quite pretty all things considered, and part of her knew that pretty was her type. Krum, McClaggen -however unattracted she'd been to him emotionally- even Ron was named Witch Weekly's bachelor of the year a few years back. Then there was the list of wizards she'd let court her after him, all men other witches would've killed to be seen with, but nothing had come from it.

Luke felt like her last chance, and they were rather happy. She liked him.

The lack of a deeper connection did not sway her away from the idea of settling down with him. Didn't everyone pick something to settle over? In every other aspect, they worked brilliantly together. All her other friends were attached, wasn't it her time?

Hermione picked the furthest thing from a romance and settled on the divan a bit further from Severus than her earlier chair. Engrossed, he seemed unaware of the change and hummed at something he must've agreed to, as she was now familiar with the sound from hearing it all morning.

Putting her nose back in her book, Hermione started in on Theoretical Charms for The Practical Wizard.

Supper came with a striking realization that it was dark outside, and had been for many hours without her knowledge. The charms text had been an easy read, an she'd moved onto the extended first volume of Little Creatures: Big Consciences with great fervor. The elf before her alerting her of the meal seemed to rock on his feet, and that's when Hermione realized Severus was no longer with her in the room.

Having no idea when he'd left, she let Tippy take her to the dining room with a quick pop of elf magic. There were a bunch of chairs set out, several people already seated, and one elder elf who looked as though she might fall over with a light blow of the wind. Severus was seated at the head of the table opposite Simon all the way on the other end.

He'd either left her to be summoned, or left her earlier in the evening and simply not wanted to pull her out of her book. She hoped it was the latter, but understood it was not his obligation to tote her around to the proper places at the proper times.

It should have been Luke's job, but he wasn't here yet, and Hermione only smiled through the pain of it.

Walking towards Severus, she gave him no argument as she chose a seat next to him with a smile.

"I see they seat the eldest in a place of honor here?"

One brow arched, Severus reached for his goblet of wine before answering her.

"The children's seating is in the other room."

"Only children sneak out of rooms and leave their companions unattended."

He actually laughed at her this time, eyes glancing towards the rest of the table as it filled in.

"I called your name thrice Hermione. You were enthralled, far be it for me to break you from that spell."
It wasn't the first time she'd be accused of negligence on that front, and certainly would not be the last. She did at least have the decency to blush if her hot cheeks were anything to say.

"Luke calls me dead to the world when I'm in that state, like my own set of magical wards were erected. I'm glad you didn't think I was ignoring you on purpose."

"What are we erecting?" Someone else entirely asked as they stole the chair next to Hermione. Their eyebrows were raised and a devious smirk was there, something clearly inherited amongst the Prince lineage.

"Wards, Gio," Simon said from the other side of the table, but his voice was clear and he didn't seem to be yelling.

"Indeed..." Severus muttered, and then much to Hermione's relief he explained to her the spells that had allowed for Simon to sound close while seated so far away. Apparently the table was enchanted so that everyone who spoke could be heard no matter where one was sat, enabling conversations to be had and heard over basically the entire room. Breakfast had not been nearly so formal and therefore had not taken place there, but now that Hermione was experiencing it, she found it rather brilliant, if not positively kind.
What went without saying is how much this charm meant to Severus.

Dinner was a smattering of things that floated about the table much to no one's surprise, while the elves chatted along to the Christmas cheer all of the humans had in store. Snape didn't say much, and really, Hermione didn't either, although it was mostly just because she was listening and learning to all the things going on around her. The Princes were an immensely interesting bunch who seemed to love one-another fiercely.

Seeing a jovial side of her surly professor was doing a lot for Hermione's Christmas cheer, even if she wasn't feeling too much of it.

"And what about your family, dear?" Angelica asked her.

While it was only polite they ask, the knife in the her lungs twisted at the mention of it. No one knew what she'd done to her parents, how their memories were gone for what she had thought would be a temporary period, yet the permeance clung to her frown.

"What of them?"

"Surely such a lovely young woman as yourself would have a good experience, no? Forgive me if I've touched an embedded thorn-"

"No," Hermione cleared her throat and looked anywhere but on her left. "It's alright, my parents only ever had me, so small family and all that. They were dentists."

"Were?" Clarice poked, however gently and kind she was being.

"They retired."

Even Hermione heard her own finality, turning back to her meal as she finished the last bite of potatoes on her plate. A large gulp of wine followed it down, and she wished that etiquette didn't force her to stay.

"What do you do for work now the war is over?" Simon asked her, changing the subject with a smile.

"I work for the Ministry, currently. One day I think I might like to run it, but only if everyone agrees I should."

"How lovely. From what little I've heard, and believe me, Hermione, we don't go subscribing to rubbish print like The Daily Prophet, I think the odds are in your favor."

"You're too kind, Simon."

"I agree," Severus said.

Hermione whipped her head to look at him, thinking he had insulted her, but she knew instantly that wasn't the case. He was leaned back, just shy of falling out of range for the table's enchantment as he continued.

"You would make an excellent Minister."

Her breathing would not steady after that, and with his final words, the rest of Snape's family continued on as they raved about dessert. It was what felt like the first unadulterated compliment Severus had ever paid her, and before an entire crowd too.

Giovanni and Chance, who were Clarice and Vic's sons, insisted she join them in a few games for younger folk (drinking games, of course) after hearing she'd spent all day in the library with their stuffy cousin, and truth be told, Hermione enjoyed the frivolity. She felt she toed the line between being an adult and still having that youthful vigor which overrided common sense occasionally. And really, it wasn't such a bad thing to go out and have fun, getting pissed with people her age, unafraid of the subsequent hangover that would follow the next day.

Maybe she should have been more wary, however, when she woke up the next morning with a blistering headache and nausea that warped her stomach like Weasley Puking Pastils.

"Bloody hell," she said to no one but herself, rolling over onto her side as she felt the acid burn her throat.

Unless the air snorted, however, Hermione knew she was not alone. Black sheets were her first sign she wasn't in Luke's room either, though that wasn't what clued her in, sadly in this state she was a bit more dense than that. The sight of Severus Snape looking at her over his nose from a decadent wing-backed chair was what she needed to prove that she wasn't where she was supposed to be.

"You were rather insistent last evening that this was the room you were supposed to be in, and seeing as I am an old man, I could hardly argue."

Hermione grabbed at her head and covered her mouth.

"If you can stomach it for even a moment, Hermione, I put out a hangover relief potion on the bedside table. I hope you like spearmint."

Indeed she did, and uncaring of what her stomach thought, she surged over the side of the bed and reached for the vial, uncorking it and downing the contents all at once as they eased into her system and brought the world back into a manageable view. Sadly it did bring her back to the realization that she was in Severus' room completely uninvited.

"I am so sorry, Master Snape."

He only let the corner of his lip upturn before waving her off.

"It's nothing, really. I can guess your intoxicated brain remembered my offer of knocking on my door should you need anything and clung to it. Neither of Clarice's boys helped you up, so I just let sleeping witches lie and helped myself to a transfigured couch in the library. It was a pleasant evening, almost like a vacation within itself. All in all, not a horrid way to start the day."

"You shouldn't be so nice, it's weird."

Why Hermione had left all her senses back where she'd left her dignity, she did not know, but really it was strange for Severus Snape to still be showing her kindness. Even after two days getting to know him and his family better, she doubted any amount of time would soften her to his own softer side. Even when they were bickering about the fundamental building blocks of a charms spell having to be a control of chaos or just the channeling of it, his prior vitriol was gone.

"Well then how's this, in exchange for interrupting my evening, I take you along to Hogwarts today instead of Raoul. His skills in arithmancy are as impressive as I've heard yours are, but I also need wand-work expertise, and due to circumstances outside of your control, the war was a brilliant teacher for you."

"I had a few decent Defense professors as well," she added with a smile, unsure of how she felt being signed up involuntarily to do field work.

"A few is a heavy estimation, now if I could have my quarters back?"

Hermione looked down and saw she was still in her clothes from the evening before, which all-considering was for the best, and that she was indeed still sitting in his black sheets like a burrowing owl who had a penchant for stealing a prairie dog's already dug hole.

"I'll be ready in a few."

"Wear something forest appropriate."

Only once she was changed did she think about what in the bloody hell they might even be going to Hogwarts for. It was only a few days until Christmas, a holiday fast-approaching like a released pendulum, and her best guess was that there were ingredients that needed to be gathered around the time of the full moon... or maybe the first winter frost. Though this trip seemed pre-determined far before one could know the weather.
She changed quickly in hopes of finding out.

Meeting Severus back in the hallway, Hermione was in transfigured camping attire fit for winter, the clothes resembling something she'd seen her mother wear once, though the thought quickly left her mind when she saw Snape. And while she was glad for distraction, part of her was a little worried that the thick scarf and his old teaching robes looked so finely fit to him as they did.
Merlin, it was just her affinity for older wizards.
Hermione smiled as he met her eye, and in a blink she found herself whirling into Hogsmeade.

"Warn a girl first, would you?" She snapped when they landed, though the apparition had been the smoothest she'd ever experienced.

"Next time," he offered stoutly and turned heading dead ahead for the brim of the Forbidden Forest.

"I didn't think we'd be heading straight to it," Hermione said, shoving her hands in her pockets, wand tucked into her sleeve.

"I've no business in the castle." Contrary to what his attire led one to believe.

And really, with the thoughts rolling around in her head as Severus walked before her, Hermione knew it was best they didn't venture inside. Their old dynamic coming back to mind was not what she wanted.

Not that fancying her once-Professor was what she wanted either. It was just fun to look, Hermione could do that, it wasn't as if she were going to do anything. Again, their history and her relationship with his distant cousin wasn't exactly forgotten.

They reached the edge much faster than Hermione could wrestle her thoughts, and the danger of their task, even in broad winter daylight, struck her.

"Does anyone know we're here... for, I don't know, safety purposes?"

"Minerva is aware of my visit, and Raoul, of course, considering I was supposed to be taking him."

Huffing, her breath making a shallow little cloud before her, Hermione nodded.

But before she could get a step past the first few trees, Severus put up a hand and stopped her at the shoulder, looking deathly serious now. For a moment, she was reminded of the war, silence imperative to life, and her breath quickened, heart pounding in her chest.

"If you do not wish to come... that is understandable. I can be short-sighted-"

"Severus, if I hadn't wanted to go, I wouldn't have. Plain as. I gathered we'd be doing something here, and Merlin knows that I'm prepared for it..." Hermione searched for something else to say, stealing a tiny glance towards the hand that encompassed a large portion of her shoulder. "Constant vigilance, and all that," she finished lamely.

The look he gave her was priceless. Extracting it and re-watching it in a pensieve would be essential once all of this mess was said and done. Luke might even get a kick out of it too, the way his cousin's usually stern facade was so disgusted and amused all at once, brow creased in an attractive way... maybe Luke mightn't appreciate it.

"In we travel then."

"Indeed," Hermione mocked, laughing along to his miniscule chuckle. "What exactly are we looking for?"

They took a few steps before he began his list. "I don't know what it is about the climate, but the best ingredients of the shedding variety always fall during this time of year. Unicorn hairs, griffon feathers, newt scales, skins of all different kinds, magical and not." A branch was pushed out of the way and held for her. "Then there's the plants and fungi, those which cater to the colder weather before the frost and heavy snow, pine needles and other innocuous things that when found in a magical forest, simply work much better in a pot than those that don't."

"So it's a potency thing?"

"Yes and no... sometimes magical properties do not align and make a potion react unfavorably or swiftly nullify it."

"Coming from a much removed perspective, I understand now why Potions was such a delicate subject, and your ire for those who didn't take it seriously was well deserved."

He made a small hum of agreement before shrugging.
"Some of it was that, other portions of my acidity were just acid. I hated teaching, always will, but I had a job to do."

Hermione had heard many accounts of said tasks and everything involving it, but she was not so bold as to ask him of it. The respect he'd gained as a lucrative potioneer out-did all the nasty Death Eater duplicity, so much so that interviews and articles speculated no longer on if his Dark Mark still whispered evil thoughts to him, but instead, who all the elegant and middle-aged witches were that whispered in his ear. Having thought the articles tasteless, she'd always ignored them or read them out of sheer curiosity if the witch was recognizable.
"Ah, and already, we've found something."

Going along with it, she came up beside him through the thick and saw a few shimmering mushrooms with little brown dots on the caps. Herbology had never been her strongest subject in terms of interest, and so as he explained the properties of the Whitecap Mudstars, she did her best to keep up.

They traveled further in after he'd plucked the little mushrooms off the tree, only grabbing a handful so as to make sure they'd repopulate. He'd conjured a basket and it filled quickly, inane things and sheddings Hermione had never seen before gathering up as time went on. The wooded areas only grew thick and dark, and she jumped whenever a sound they hadn't made emitted in the air.

Nothing particularly dangerous came across their path. A few pixies had tugged on her hair and forced Severus to hex them off her, while he encountered only benign non-magical creatures including a stray hare that seemed unnaturally enamored with him.

Now that was a memory she would enjoy watching back, him coaxing the white mass of fur with a few flowers from his basket. Hermione laughed and scared it off, but Severus didn't say anything cruel to her so she only laughed harder.

As the sun grew high enough to penetrate the leaves, they snacked on winterberries Hermione found, and out of Severus's pocket he produced an antiquated skin of water that she had dubious feelings about drinking out of.

"How old is this bloody thing?" She asked just out of curiosity.

Severus smirked.

"Maybe two or three... hundred years."

"Merlin, where did you get it?"

"Something I obtained along the way."

Severus hesitated. He, the man who had stared down Voldemort and done nothing more than put up his Occlumency shields, hesitated. Whatever he was going to say or do must have been quite the thing because Hermione didn't think him capable of any sort of holding back.

"When I was young," he started slowly, as if she would interrupt him telling him to stop, "my family had very little. My father was a menace who worked for next to nothing at the factory, and my mother was a cast-off pureblood who didn't see the error of her ways until it was too late."

Hermione almost did stop him here, but she used all her restraint to let her mind convince itself he was talking about the man's personality and not the man being a muggle.

"We didn't have much, so having been able to fund and cushion what will be the rest of an entire life I didn't think I would have... it makes me indulgent sometimes."

The sound of rustling caused Hermione a fright, but Severus at her side did not laugh it off this time. Instead, he looked beyond the trees and silently put up a finger to his mouth, her posture going rigid. Something had joined their little picnic.

A spindly, black leg crept over a log, and Hermione was struck at the sight of their visitor. It was an acromantula, that she was certain of, and it looked quite menacing despite the fact it was much smaller than the ones Harry and Ron had described, or the ones that had flooded to them in the war. A shiver seized her spine, and with one sharp look at Severus, she had the creature bound after he stunned it.

Hopefully there weren't more. Hermione's heart couldn't take it. Her fear of spiders wasn't as great as Ron's, but her ability to be startled beyond wit was.

"Did you kill it?" she asked warily.

Acromantula venom was quite the find, and she understood if he did harvest it from the beast, but she had no idea how strong his stunner was and if they needed to vacate the area or not before it called for its friends.

"No," he said, but the regret only tinted his voice a tiny bit. "We should proceed back to the edge of the forest before it gets smart."

Hermione agreed, and they confounded the creature just for safety's sake before heading in the direction of Hogwarts with a point me charm.

As they got to a point in the forest where the grounds of the school were visible, Hermione began to see more movement out of the corner of her eye. Too large to be an acromantula (she hoped anyways), she allowed herself to look over while Severus gathered something he was muttering about from the ground.

In a well-shaded clearing she saw a few large horse-like creatures and knew immediately what they were. Taking sips out of melted snow, a group of thestrals majestically carried on, small noises huffing from one or another occasionally. They were stunning... and a blatant reminder to Hermione that she'd seen death. A lot of it.

"Severus," she called softly, hoping the sturdy beasts didn't mind a little whispering.

Hermione turned, rooted in her spot, and gestured him over. He left his basket of findings where he was and gently stepped over, having spotted what she saw from a bit further away. Severus came up behind her and leaned against the tree on her right, pressing his entire left side into her back. He was warm, and her heart beat through her chest.

"My mother's patronus was a thestral," he told her in a low whisper. "I only ever saw her cast it once before everything went downhill. She was trying to entertain me, and I admired their wings."

Hermione turned to look at him, the sad insights to his childhood worrying her, but the pivot snapped a dry twig that sent the thestrals a few feet back and startled her into Severus's arm.

"Sorry," she muttered, her face feeling warm even beyond the crisp nip of winter air.

"So am I."

The solemn reply was short lived as Hermione gazed into his eyes, thinking for maybe a moment he might be feeling what she did. Severus righted her posture, though, and he went back to collect the moss he'd been harvesting earlier.

She let herself laugh. He looked like a child, picking things at what to her was random, though he often explained each and every piece. They got a couple steps pass the clearing and found more berries in the bushes.

"Berries have flavonoids in them," he said as she plucked some from the basket to eat, smirking at his frown when he realized what she was doing. "It gives them their vibrant color, but it's said to help with memory."

Hermione held her breath, hoping he'd move on. There was no way he knew, would he? Her parents having been obliviated was a well-kept secret, and unless he often talked to Kingsley, then she wasn't sure how the knowledge might have gotten to him.

"I've been working on something for St. Mungo's, something to eliminate mind alteration on patients, and Kingsley is excited to see if it might help deter criminals from wiping victim's memories. So far, nothing has come of it, but I have high hopes for the next few batches. I'd like to obtain ink from the giant squid for it, however I fear he won't be amenable to the idea."

She laughed, shaking her head. The relief she felt made her want to be honest. Luke... he knew, and since his magic was purely cosmetic, she hadn't thought of asking him for help. Besides, there wasn't much she couldn't do... besides potions, and now here was an open opportunity to ask help from a... friend?

"I obliviated my parents before the ministry fell in ninety-seven. I knew their safety was at stake, that if I didn't do something to protect them, Voldemort might come after them. Dealing with their worry wasn't exactly something I needed either, so I relocated them to Australia without a thought in their mind of me. I go visit occasionally," she ran her fingers over a mossy tree, the little bumps and fuzz grounding her back to the world. "Nothing I've tried so far has worked."

Hermione looked ahead, saw the castle in the distance and the setting sun. It always set so early in the winter, and her mother would hope for the winter solstice without fail every year, where the sun would start setting later and later again. The Granger household was always much more alive in the summer.

Severus let out a heavy breath, the cold catching it to be seen.

"You made the right choice. I was there when he sent Dolohov to your residence in hopes to... they lived because of your bravery."

A tear escaped her eye, and Hermione nodded, wiping it away.

"What sort of life is worth living if you don't remember half of it?"

"Enough."

Considering this, she blinked the thoughts and tears away, smiling with as much reassurance as she could manage in her eyes.

Then, far less morosely, he added, "If I make substantial progress on the potion, I shall send word immediately."

Severus caught her eye, his tone and eyes sincere. Merlin, if he wore a look like that, he'd have any witch he asked for. The thought was traitorous, but far better than the ones about her parents, and she ran with it. According to the Prophet, he already did accumulate a plethora of witches, it was just that her understanding of why was only growing the more time she spent with him.

"Thank you. That's very generous."

"I can't guarantee anything... but knowing you have need of it might assure I work on it more, having a familiar face relying on my research. I took a break from brewing for the holidays, sent everyone else away as well. Often times a refreshed mind can make all the difference."

"It certainly can."

Severus hummed, and headed forward. His basket was full, and the sun was setting, so she figured they were exiting the forest in the direction of the black lake. She hoped he wasn't actually going to ask that bloody beast in it if he could have some ink.

Just before Hermione was out of the forest proper, she took a step forward and nearly fell flat on her arse... if she could move at all. Her feet were plastered to the ground, and no matter what incantation she tried, nothing saved her.

"Severus!" she called him frantically, but looked up to find him only laughing at her, leaned casually against a tree with his arms crossed, basket in the crook of his arm. "I'm stuck," she added petulantly.

"Indeed."

"I could use some help," she elaborated, gesturing vaguely to nothing, towing the line between pissed and exasperated. Harry had worked hard, but the Forbidden Forest seemed to work harder at making her life inconvenient at Hogwarts.

"Look up."

She did, although she was indignant that he felt the need to command her instead of pulling out his wand. Right there above her was mistletoe, climbing the limb, flowering, and looking rather pleased with itself if plants could do such a thing.

"You've got to be bloody-"

Hermione did not finish, instead, her chin was tilted down, and Severus was kissing her. His lips were cold from their day out, but his hands were warm, and her entire body shivered in response. He was wonderfully distracting, a hand on her waist pulling her closer, so much so that when she put her arms around him and stepped away from her previous spot, she didn't even notice her release.

But when she did realize she was able to move again, she pulled away in hopes to salvage a shred of her dignity. Hermione felt the blush on her cheeks despite it and avoided all eye-contact with him due to her... fervent reaction.

"Thank you," she mumbled, "for getting me out of there. I would've had to wait for someone to come after I sent a patronus if you weren't here."

Looking up at the plant, it had retreated, scrunched up and scorned as though that was not the end result it had wanted. Ruddy little thing.

"Hermione," Severus crooned. The lightness of it surprised her, but his hand was suspended where she'd been, and when he reached back out, she retreated further, feeling guilty and dirty. It had been necessary to get her unstuck, but her reaction had not.

"Sorry, really, I think we should head back. Your family will begin to wonder where we are, if they aren't already wondering, and I'm starved."

"Hermione," he said, far more stern this time, practically forcing her to look at him as she fidgeted. "You needn't worry if you enjoyed yourself... I admit that the magic doesn't require such a blatant display."

"I'm with Luke. Your cousin."

"Yes, Lucas, my cousin. Whom you like," he said with a chuckle, but there was nothing else hidden there, no jealousy or anger. Something resigned about fancying her, and she had a feeling he had peered into her mind gently all those times he'd looked her in the eye. He probably thought he'd fall to the same fate as all of her other men if given the chance. To be liked.

"I care for him a lot, Severus. I'm putting up with you for him, aren't I?"

They laughed, and whatever bump the kiss had caused was smoothed.

The house was buzzing when she apparated herself onto the grounds, at the actual front door this time, Severus behind her within a blink, offering his arm again like a true gentleman.

They ribbed one-another endlessly, worrying the family as they all gathered for a trivia game after they'd all joined together again for supper. It was quite the production and very competitive, Severus and Angelica her strongest competition.

The two questions on pop culture which Giovanni and Chance stole from her was her reasoning for losing out to Severus. She'd stick to that for the rest of her life, she was sure, and after the trivia had wrapped up, she declined the Christmas movie they all wanted to watch and decided to call it a night early. The forest had exhausted her, and her traitorous mind needed time away from Severus before she got even more attached.
It was probably just anxiety, she told herself, since Luke wasn't around to remind her of his warm and steady presence. The two cousins actually shared quite a few similarities (not including looks), a dangerous thought if she ever had one. Her mind reeled in discomfort, Christmas Eve still two whole days away.

Sleep did not come easy.

The twenty-second of December was bitter cold, and so nobody even entertained going outside. Severus had popped back to his headquarters to bottle and preserve his potion ingredients they gathered the day before, so Hermione was left to Chance. Literally.

He got her to play chess (normal, comforting, and non-violent chess) that he was rather decent at. Playing Ron had made her a solid competitor, but they were evenly matched for every game, each one coming down to a few final moves with the lucky win here and there. Luther got in on the fun despite his abysmal strategy, and Simon vowed not to play any of them for fear of embarrassment.

Eventually, Penelope sat on Luther's lap and showed her husband how to do it, Hermione falling flat on her face until an arm swathed in black took her turn for her. She still lost, and Hermione swatted Severus on the arm for acting as though he could beat the family champion. He tagged in after her, silent but focused, and lost three more games to Penelope, Chance, and herself. It was amusing to see him not be talented at something.

"What else are you secretly terrible at, Severus?" She asked him at supper, the entire table laughing to themselves.

"A great deal of things, I rarely ever will let myself handle any beast higher than a class XX. I much prefer plants."

"Humans are class XXXX, that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?" Angelica quipped, everyone going silent at the look on Severus' face. He grinned after only a moment of a stone mien, and the brothers cackled, probably only vaguely understanding the joke, but proud their aunt had gotten away with what they did.

"I'm sorry Severus, I had to."

"No worries, Angelica. While technically we are not classified as beasts, it is indeed an apt description. Though, young masters Prince might be only half that."

"Oi!" Chance and Giovannni echoed, their unison reminding Hermione of Fred and George years ago.
Her smile darkened, but the table continued on with their revelry without notice. Merlin, what she wouldn't give to have Luke there, for acceptable support. If she just fell into Severus' arms, she doubted the family would welcome her much longer. The war just loomed over her in moments like this, instead of the long ache Harry had recovered from.

Hermione ate dessert in a much better shape, a glass of elf-wine steadying her nerves of the past. The Prince's offered more trivia, but Hermione once again retreated to her rooms to finish off the evening. The war didn't linger too much. It wasn't as though every night she suffered from nightmares, but this whole being in another family's house without a memory besides Severus (who she'd almost seen die, she couldn't forget that and doubted he could either) made her mind fragile.

An owl visited her after she'd finally settled in with a good book. She worried it might be for Luke, then wondered if it was from him, vibrating with excitement until she found Harry's scrappy hand-writing on the front. Not that she was disappointed to hear from him, but any word from Luke would've been nice.

Dear Hermione,

I know Christmas Eve is just a day away, but Happy Early Christmas. I couldn't wait to write you, and we miss you here. The burrow isn't the same without you, and I'm sure Luke and co. are taking good care of you. I want to hear all about it. He better be treating you right.

See... Draco didn't know you were dating Snape's Luke! (He got a letter from his godfather two days ago) Apparently, last anyone had heard from Lucas, he was supposedly single.

But anyways, I imagine the Great Git is either flaunting around his millions of galleons or still sour, but you'd be the better judge of that seeing as you're holidaying with him, yeah? Gin thinks he's tamed or something now, but I highly doubt it. What's his family think of him? Tell us everything.

We'd have known more ourselves if you'd have ever brought Luke around. Draco said not to nag, but what else are best friends for?

Love you 'Mione.

Don't leave anything out,
Harry.

Chuckling, and happy to have an assignment to focus on, Hermione sat down to write the insipid pest back. He was like a cockroach, unable to be killed, and always where you didn't want him. It's really what made him so lovable.

All she had was normal pen and paper, and the owl who had delivered Harry's letter looked somewhat put out by it as she sat down to write.

Dear Harry, (Draco, and Ginny too, I know they're reading over your shoulder)

Severus and his family are wonderful. Really. They took me in even though Luke was delayed at work. Anyway, that's really all there is to it. Severus and I have gotten along best, to everyone's surprise, because he was the only one I truly know here. Luke's family has included me and inquired into me, it's sweet to be considered and made to feel welcome.

Maybe it doesn't surprise you I get along with Severus, or maybe it does. Either way, we went to the Forbidden Forest yesterday on an ingredients excursion. We bantered, worked, and I don't feel like he's exhibited a single bit of his new status in a negative way. He told me that he's made a few indulgent purchases just for the sake of never having been able to before, which I completely understand. It's admirable.

With Luke not being here, I do feel a little lost. I would've come to the Burow to delay time, but I was in such a state when I got Luke's note that having Ron breathe down my throat over the debacle was not what I needed. Turns out I made the right choice. You ought to tell me how he's behaving this year.

Oh, and happy news, Severus offered one of his trial potions the moment it's done to help restore my parents memories... it's an avenue I never though to explore before, Harry. I hope something comes of it. A warm, Australian Christmas next season with my parents would do me worlds of good, I think.

Happy Christmas to you all.

Love you,    
Hermione

She rolled up the paper and cast a charm to make it waterproof, attaching it to the little owl's leg. "Off you go now... To Harry Potter."

It hooted and sat there. She sighed, summoned a treat, and then it took off with little problem.

"Brat."

"Talking to yourself?"

Hermione whipped her head around to the doorway where Severus stood, a grin on his face as though he'd just watched a very amusing bit of theater.

"Nothing wrong with it if I were, however, I was talking about Harry's bird. It got upset at my normal muggle stationery."

"How dare you insult it in that way," he said very seriously, though she only laughed.

"Heard from my god-son? Having a Weasley as an in-law was never his desired out-come, but his friendship with Potter seems a long-time coming."

Hermione smiled.

"Scorpius loves the Potter kids and his cousins. You've heard of Albus, I imagine?"

A mightier eye-roll, she could not fathom.

"I told him not to name that child after me, and then I had a pregnant Ginevra Potter at the apothecary telling me that she was to do as she pleased with her children's names. I think for her it was pride in spite."

"You're funny," she told him plainly.

Severus gave her the most teasing smile, one that shouldn't have made her stomach flutter like it did. She just had to keep telling herself that when Luke came back, she'd feel the same things for him, and Severus' kiss would be a long-forgotten memory.

"Much appreciated."

"I came to wish you a goodnight."

Hermione felt the blush on her cheeks and smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. This specific wizard becoming long-forgotten was a dream.

"Goodnight, Severus."

He nodded his head and shifted out of the doorway, and she let out all the air she was holding, the moment sliding away in an unfulfilled resolution. Luke needed to arrive post-haste. Her turmoil as she brushed her teeth and slipped into bed was immense, and it was paramount that he come and remove all the thoughts in her brain, to give no foundation or credibility to the betrayal. Especially considering the two men were family.

The next morning, Hermione awoke to an owl seated right before her, hooting indignantly from the pillow as she rubbed at her eyes. Hair everywhere, she groaned and tried to roll over to snatch just a few more minutes of respite and calm before being accosted by the bloody talons in her shoulder.

"What!" She looked over at it, and even her sleep-addled brain understood this was not Harry's owl, but the same one that had delivered her Luke's missive a few days previously. Hope beyond hope insisted that she think it meant his visit would be earlier than planned.

Snatching the note, Hermione tore it open and felt her heart drop through the bed into the basement.

Hermione,

I contacted my mother this morning to see how the hols were going, and she sent me a rather disappointed response telling me you hadn't even arrived. I understand you wanted to go with me, but I was hoping you'd take this as a time to bond with my parents and sister. They really like having the company, I promise you wouldn't be a burden, and there's nothing to fear from the three of them. If you were this objectionable, I maybe only wish you would have told me so I could warn them not to expect you. Anyways, I only had time for a few short lines, I'll see you on Christmas Eve for certain.

Love,
Luke

With her pulse hitting extremely loud and taut drums in her ears, Hermione felt her mouth go dry. This whole time she'd been...

How in the name of Merlin's bloody beard could there be two Luke Prince's and she didn't know? How could anyone not have known or figured it out? Maybe he was jesting, surely it was just some prank and she hadn't spent the last handful of days with a family that she was not at all meant to have impeded on.

Severus. She needed to talk to him, to ask him some questions just to make sure, before she well and truly died of shame.

Dressing faster than her nerves could manage, Hermione skipped actual clothes and managed some underwear and a robe, plus both of Luke's letters, hustling down the hall to knock vehemently on Severus' emerald green door.

He answered in an instant, a towel slung around his hips and his hair wet but pulled back.

"Fuck," she muttered, and if her nerves were not already frayed, then Hermione might have felt shame for blatantly staring at his chest and neck, the scars of years past littering a fine physique. He wasn't traditionally handsome like the pretty men she tended towards, but to hell if he didn't strike something a little baser in her.

"No, I only showered," he quipped, breaking her hundred-meter stare.

"Sorry, I have to ask you a couple questions, they can't wait."

She tried to look anywhere on his face in hopes to distract from his chest.

"Go ahead."

He did not move. Severus stood there and was waiting for her to ask her stupid questions in the stupid bloody hallway. Her in her robe, and him in nothing but a towel that left little to the imagination.

"What does Luke do for work?"

One imperious eyebrow was raised, and Hermione wanted to sink into the floor.

"Please," she whined.

"He works in Diagon Alley as a broom specialist. Hence why he isn't here, what with all the last-minute purchases those of us who are less prepared for the holiday must make."

"No," she said, her voice higher than normal, strained, enough so that Severus looked at her with worry now, no longer amused by the situation like he was. "No, you see, my Luke Prince is a cosmetic healer at St. Mungo's."

He only stared, mouth opening for a moment before closing again.

"Is this the address of the estate?" She questioned, holding up one of Luke's missives with shaking hands. Severus squinted.

A few days prior she had just let him lead her all the way to the grounds without a thought, her arm freshly healed from splinching and their interaction a bit stilted. Why would she check the bloody address?

"No," he confirmed, and Hermione need not hear anymore.

She bolted, running for her room and taking her wand in hand, rushing to get everything packed. With a quick thought to make sure that she showed up to the correct Luke Prince's house in clothes that were appropriate for being outside, Hermione looked at the room she was in, a stranger's room, and nearly vomited as she apparated away again.

There had been no time for apologies or anything, she had needed to get out as fast as possible, Severus and the entire family be damned. They could think what they like of her, but she wouldn't ever be confronting the absolutely miserable circumstances she'd just found herself in.

Hermione walked to the address she was truly supposed to be at with a point-me charm and wiped the tears from her face right as they fell. By the time she arrived at Luke's family's true residence, her walk had cooled her off and while her face was blotchy with chilled wind and tears, at least she was present where she was supposed to be. She was sure Severus would explain what happened to Simon and Angelica...

Nels and Monet were not what Hermione was expecting. Nels looked almost identical to Luke, which made a lot more sense, only he was in his late sixties, while Monet, a hard-worn woman, looked a tad younger. Scarcely reminded of Narcissa Malfoy, Hermione wondered if she'd ever get away from her life at Hogwarts this holiday season, or if she was just going to keep getting reminders that Time was a brutal and unstoppable force.

They introduced her to Katie, Luke's sister, more like him than their parents Hermione discovered slowly. Their parents had made two similar children with normal names, feeding them normal meals at a quiet table where Hermione was thankful to be served at all.
She lied her arse off about where she'd been. Using Harry as an excuse got her many favorable nods, a name they were all interested in. Something akin to a celebrity, they questioned her within an inch of her life about the war and Harry, about everything they missed attending Beauxbatons, even though Luke had been sent to Hogwarts because he was never able to pick up French as a child. This was seen as a horrible failing on Monet's part, and she moved swiftly on from the conversation with a propulsion that terrified Hermione.
The moment it was socially acceptable to excuse herself to bed hadn't come soon enough, the day taking it's sweet time to pass, occupying themselves with stiff conversations and needles into her life.

Knowing what she did, having a taste of life outside of the modernist and white-washed walls of the Second Prince's home, Hermione could say for sure she'd preferred it with Severus and his kin.

It wasn't that Nels and Monet weren't nice. In all honesty, they were a family she would have loved if her feelings hadn't already been swayed by the larger one. Nels was the warmer counterpart to Monet's cold honesty, and Katie balanced her parents with ease that came from many years of being their child. But... they weren't the other Prince's. The war was a mystery to the others, and there was not a single one of them who asked if she had the perfume she was wearing for more than ten years.

It had been her mother's, but that was certainly not a story Hermione felt comfortable sharing with Monet. She hardly felt safe sharing anything about her own parents with her previous hosts, let alone the ones who assured she'd have her own bedroom, even when Luke arrived. Not that there was anything wrong with a little traditionalism, but bloody hell, they'd been together for over a year and Luke was thirty-four.

Grateful. She should be grateful and whatever else, that they even wanted her there after her hastily-explained absence.

Hermione repeated this to herself as she got into bed, watching the clock on the wall, illuminated by a flood light outside her window, strike only half nine in the evening. But really, after the day she'd had, who could blame her for wanting to be in bed early? She certainly deserved some rest.

An impossible ask, it seemed, as there was a knock on her door.

She prayed it wasn't Nels asking if she was sure she didn't want a sip of brandy, but she could promise him she did not.

Instead, much to her surprise, she found Luke on the other side of her door.

"Hi," she whispered, feeling as though his presence were illicit, especially considering the sleeping-together ban. Not to mention all of her secrets piled up in the back of her mind. Good thing Luke was incapable of legilimency.

"Hey there," he said back, walking forward and kissing her lips.

He had no idea that she'd spent the past few days with Severus and his family, the other Luke Prince's family... well, Lucas Prince, which she supposed made so much more sense now.

When he pulled away, the tears in her eyes barely being kept away, she gave his arm a light tap with her palm.

"What happened to Christmas Eve?! Or maybe let's start with the whole holiday?" Hermione didn't feel bad about the third degree. He deserved it for abandoning her not only to his own family, but the other one as well. It might never have gone so far if he hadn't have needed to be at Mungo's. Then she never would have had to kiss Severus...

"Well, there was an A-list patient who needed some mending and to put back together a few misplaced and splinched limbs. Unfortunately, a lot of it was in, er, critical areas of the body. I wouldn't have volunteered-"

"You volunteered?" She seethed. It was a noble thing to do, sure, but he had no idea what she'd been through!

"I did... I'm sorry, love, but it was Christmas. No one deserves to be disfigured during the hols."

Allowing him into the room, she closed her eyes as he passed her by, the door shutting behind him. This was all a big mess, and Hermione wanted nothing more than for Christmas to be over. She steeled herself and looked over at him now, his frown evident.

"You're right. I know that, it just surprised me, is all. I sort of forgot that there were emergency situations for cosmetics, besides those with compulsive vanity."

Luke laughed, slow and in a kind way that Severus' witty and raspy one could not match. Comparing them would become common, she was nauseatingly sure. With a shuttered breath, Hermione shoved all that unpleasantness away and crossed the room to kiss him.

It was full of guilt, and she was sure Luke thought it was because of the time she'd neglected to spend with his family. It just didn't matter. She'd made a mistake and fixed it the moment she knew she was wrong, leaving the whole and wonderful Prince family alone.

All she had to do was stop thinking about it, a task much easier said than done.

The thoughts caught her through the rhythm of Luke's idea of sex. Which slow and sweet might be any witch's ideal, it certainly felt alright, but Hermione thought she might've cared for the occasional shove against a wall in good, clean fun (that she'd consented to before) proceeding to be ravished in a way that had her begging. Or maybe she was wrong for wanting such things, especially wanting them while she was occupied doing the exact opposite. Better yet, she was assuredly wrong for thinking of another man through the whole thing.

When he'd finished, she gave Luke a sweet smile and dragged her naked body towards the loo, praying his family hadn't heard anything. Hermione washed off and returned to find her exhausted paramour twirling his wand in the bed, sitting up with the scent of a cleansing charm wafting off him.

"You gave me quite the tongue lashing for skipping out on my family for someone who did the same thing... What did you do while I was occupied?"

The question was innocent, mundane even in the way he said it. However, her response was nothing but. What had she even told his real parents in the frenzy? Something about Harry, and so she reiterated the tale to the best of her ability, reminding herself to tell Harry too so he could corroborate.

Luke pulled her in close and placed a few kissed on her neck, them sinking into the covers together to get some rest. It was much-needed, and while the orgasm had helped in de-stringing Hermione, it was no match for some quality sleep.

Christmas Eve was, in short, a terrible experience. Luke's presence did nothing to ease the tension Hermione had created with his parents, and frankly she felt like he had sided with them over their hurt on it despite her having a very reasonable explanation she just couldn't share.

She may have fallen for someone else.

Hermione had never wanted to be one of those people who proclaimed about The One, or who felt a spark or some ridiculous notion. She based all her reasoning and opinions of her men on their compatibility with her in intelligence, wit, and looks. It was never that they were pretty alone that made her attracted to them, but deep down she knew she only dated those kinds of men to prove to herself she could. Dating Luke had been her most compatible match yet all-considering, and even he taken her notice because he was in Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor list two years ago.

She felt like shite about herself when the day was over, refusing to put up with another minute of it, and apparated to the burrow after her and Luke had gone their separate ways for the night.

It was a rash decision, she knew this, one of her many that past week, and the jump from Tetbury to Ottery St. Catchpole at least hadn't torn her to bits like the one from London. Maybe it was because she knew the burrow so well, had lived it a million times instead of having little destination in mind.

Trekking up through the tall grass outside the wards, and looking at the loud but now much more appealing burrow, felt like coming home. Compared to Tetbury, it was hard to imagine it not. Harry and Ginny could be seen from the kitchen window kissing, a room long-abandoned at this time of night, and she smiled.

Her friends were all so in love. Harry deserved the easy love he'd earned from Ginny, truly. Theirs was most spectacular in her eyes because they both came together of mutual accord. No forcing the other to realize their worth or settling for less than what they knew they could have. Then there was Draco and Astoria, the Potter's counterpart only in volume, as they were equally in love, however much softer. Constantly touching but never in a crass way, the two doted on Scorpius and the Potter-Weasley clan with the love of people who wished their family larger.

Of course, no one could forget the associated Weasleys. Fluer having set her sights on Bill and getting what she wanted, Percy who'd found quiet adoration in Audrey, George, absolution and companionship in Angelina, and of course Ron, who was the reason they had a "ferret infestation" as he liked to call his wife's sister and family. Daphne and he were the oddest match, dichotomous and constantly bickering, but it still seemed to work, and she never failed to laugh at his ridiculous jokes.

Hermione went inside. She was pummeled by a barrage of children calling her Auntie Mione, and the little and even medium sized hugs from the larger kids made her heart flip. This was Christmas, what it was supposed to feel like, and she wondered what had made her so scared to come here in the first place. Ron and Daphne, ever the attending hosts, greeted her first, shocked but pleased to have her, offering her a room and food before she could even explain that she would be just fine going home. Then everyone else got their say, and she was thrust into a game of exploding snap.

It was just what she needed to take the edge off, and after the kids were settled, Harry and Draco descended.
"What happened at my godfather's?"

Hermione snorted, feeling more pity for herself than anything at this point.

"I'm not dating his cousin. Apparently, there are two Lukes. Well, one is Lucas Prince, the other is... was mine."

Harry had the most concerned look on his face, and Draco fought back a snicker.

"It's a little funny now," she said pathetically, smiling as he dissolved into fits of laughter, and Hermione let out a gigantic sigh. "I just can't believe it happened. I apparated to Tetbury, but because I'd just got Luke's note, I splinched my entire left arm from elbow to wrist, and Severus found me all pitiful and bleeding. I just assumed... Prince, you know, and his bloody cousin just happened to be Lucas. Stark difference is that the one I was with is a cosmetic healer at Mungo's, while theirs is a racing broom aficionado. And the family's are so different."

Hermione put her head in her hands and groaned, eyes watering, but she was already over most of her tears.

"Sounds brutal," Harry offered as he came and sat by her, taking her under his arm. "What happened with you and Luke, was he that mad about the simple mix-up?"
Ah... being an auror had made her friend astute. Even though she hadn't been subtle about leaving Luke, (abandoning him on Christmas Eve pretty damning), even Draco had seemed to not fully take it in quite yet.

"He should've gotten my note by now... but it wasn't him. I just got to know the Prince family so well and felt so accepted by them that having to go do it all again with a man who I didn't even love's family who I thought- I couldn't do it, and I couldn't go on if I didn't love him. It felt disingenuous."

"There's time yet for it all, Hermione. Just because we all rushed into the future with wands ablaze, doesn't mean that it's everyone's obligation to do the same. If you're looking to find someone, you will when the time is right. Please don't settle again," Draco added at the end, a lot more softly than the rest of his speech.

Did she tell them about Severus? Her heart pounded and the tips of her ears went red, but the two men in front of her took it as embarrassment over the events of the past week. No, it was best she keep that secret guarded, it wasn't like she'd ever see him again if she could help it. Besides, if that connection could be forged by him of all people, maybe there was hope for her after all.

Harry was a doll and escorted her home, telling her she better join them for Christmas or she'd never hear the end of it, and she promised she'd be back. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, with the parting words of love he gave to all his friends.

She went back for Christmas and then New Years, and even a birthday or two before February rolled around, having never seen so much of the entire Weasley clan that often before. She figured out why with a strangled little sob at her desk one day, putting up with Ron even to just be with family who understood her, no matter the cost. It was nice just to have a family, a thing the Princes had taught her. That's what it was. After surviving without them for so long and taking the Weasley's and co for granted, she had finally been re-taught the lesson.

Hermione thought often of Severus. She saw the adverts and his potions everywhere. There was an article just around his birthday about how he was working on the memory potion for the Ministry, with another one after Valentine's Day about the fact he hadn't had a date despite being named one of Witch Weekly's Poignant Presences.

March came and the unidentified owl that sat on her ledge in her London flat held a tiny little bit of parchment in its beak. She was seated on her sofa, reading a good book to the sound of the wind battering the windows and felt bad for the little creature, vanishing the glass to welcome it in. The small bird landed right on her upturned knees and dropped its parcel.

"Thanks," she muttered.

Extremely polite as far as owls, Hermione gave it a few scratches as it sat mutely while she unfolded the parchment.

Miss Granger,

The address caused her heart to fall, and she let her hopes flicker before reading the rest of the blunt contents.

I've just finished trials on my memory elixir, the consented patients and their family's at St. Mungo's were much-improved and showed full recovery after twenty-four hours. Kingsley has granted me an expedited patent due to it's passing the Department of Ethical Brewing standards. It shall have a semi-public and controlled release on the anniversary of the War, but I have a few phials set aside if you would like them. Either personal retrieval or delivery via owl are possibilities, let me know and send your response with Alastor.

Best,
S. Snape

Dashed hopes fell as swiftly as Alastor did from her lap when she swung to write Severus a reply. The Gryffindor in her wanted to say she'd pick it up post-haste, but everything else wanted to tell her just to send it back with his owl. If the poor bird didn't hate her, hooting indignantly from the floor as though he deserved better.

And he did, but she was losing her nerve, scribbling in an unsteady hand that she'd be by his main office in London first thing Monday morning.

She received no reply.

It didn't faze her, although Hermione nearly canceled her trip there if it weren't for Kingsley pulling off another miracle and giving her a portkey to and from Australia for that Monday afternoon and the rest of the week respectively. It had all come together Sunday night, so all she had time for was packing for her trip south where the weather would be mild, and her parents would soon remember who she was. Needless to say, she would have to confront Severus before she left, and her heart worried almost more about that than the potions themselves.

When the time finally came, she was wearing her best dress. Wizard's clothes were ill-advised considering her travel, and the dress would give her parents a good impression that all was well on her end and no longer did they need to worry about the war or Dumbledore, or anything worse than petty criminals ever again.

It also accentuated her body in the most flattering of ways, a benefit obviously for Severus, not for her family.
With a heavy coat on, she landed in front of his office, the building proof of a man who made ludicrous amounts of galleons. Really, if her heart could get a grip, this whole trip would be much easier.

The storefront was busy as usual, and her mind latched onto every scent that wafted her way. Some smelled of mint and others smelled putrid in comparison, while one wall of color caught her eyes, the various flavors of sober-up lined against the wall in a beautiful display, repopulating whenever someone took one.

A young woman at the counter who was dressed much nicer than the others caught her attention with a smile.

"You can go on upstairs, Severus is waiting for you, Miss Granger."

She nodded, not caring for the way the witch almost crooned his name, and had to tell herself it was probably just the way she sounded as a magical barrier lifted and she ascended. Everything was clean, something that didn't surprise her, but what did was the modest placard on his door.

Severus Snape
Owner

The little conscription of nothing more than the fact he owned the place, so humble considering how he'd forged this empire, made Hermione only care about him that much more. Three months hadn't dulled her affections for him, and it was the first time she hadn't lost a flame after anything shorter than a month.

She knocked. It felt ridiculous, but she did it anyways, several times, remembering a green door and his family's laughter in the distance.

The door swung open, Severus looked at her for only a second before giving her the briefest of smiles, and he let her inside.

"I'm glad you came. I have written instructions for how to give the doses to your parents, but I'd like to be very clear about a few things."

The straight-business tone and his rambling for the following few minutes reminded her all too well of how she'd left things at Christmas. What a horrible time for her to just leave a man she'd snogged in the woods and fallen for quite deeply. Not that he knew about the falling part, or if he did, it was probably unwelcome. Hermione didn't know, and as he handed her the two phials of memory restorative, she clutched them with conflicting thoughts.

"I'm scared," she admitted. It was true. The little shimmering liquid in her hand, an interestingly deep purple from the berries he'd ended up using, was the key to a whole new part of her life she'd just healed. Was she ready for it to be upturned again?

"It'll be fine, Hermione."

The way he said her name... she couldn't help what came out of her mouth after.

"Come with me."

Severus blinked furiously. She'd certainly thrown him off whatever his prepared salutation was, and her jaw clenched as she readied herself for rejection.

"You have the instructions..." he said, voice and excuse lame for denying.

It only proved what Hermione hoped. He did still fancy her, could see the hesitation in being offered everything he wanted, it was the same way she felt, so she grew far more confident in her offer.

"I want you to come with me to Australia. I've booked a week there to get acquainted with my parents, to heal and catch up, but I don't want to do it alone. I want you there," she said.

Taking his hand, she heard the hitch in his breath and waited.

"I will not be kept on the side." The warning came low and brittle, but she disabused him of the notion she would ever need to do such a thing very quickly.

"Nor would I expect you to. I ended things with Luke on Christmas Eve."

Their eyes connected, and Hermione had the forethought to slip the phials into the pocket of her coat before she was taken up and kissed beyond an inch of her life. It felt as brilliant and intoxicating as it had under the mistletoe, his hands free to roam, and her feet not at risk of staying stuck to the floor.

Severus Snape went with her to get her parents memories back, and for the first time in a long time, she was the one introducing someone.

-•-

Christmas with the Princes at the manor was still a splendid affair. There was a baby now who loved tugging on Hermione's hair, and she'd finally met Lucas Prince, an excitable man nothing like her previous romantic interest.

Her parents adored Simon and his family as well. They appreciated having other muggle companions to commiserate with, and were never daunted by the others with magic, claiming Penelope and Luther's daughter as niece or nephew without question. Grandchildren had been brought up by Simon, and Hermione and Severus both received a side-eye from the Grangers like they hadn't only been together officially for eight months.

Although the heirloom ring Angelica had found in the vaults was resting on Hermione's finger already, it did not mean she wanted to be a mother... yet.

They were so busy in fact, that when they finally retired on Boxing Day, Severus collapsed into the bed.

"It feels as though I need to kidnap you to the forest again to get a moment alone."

"Combined holidays was your idea," she retorted, joining him on the bed, slipping off her lace robe so he could see the magically hidden red set beneath it.

He groaned, something utterly alluring, and her arousal warmed her entire core.

"Is this my reward?"

"For putting up with it? Indeed," she joked, climbing atop him, sitting on his hips while he laughed at her in good nature.

"Your mother was practically begging me to impregnate you, I don't know why I still expect decorum from Grangers all these months later. Where did you come from?"

Hermione grinned.

"Their lack of decorum."

Severus rolled his eyes and pushed his hips into hers.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas."

She gave him a tender kiss, lips, tongue, and teeth, before they shared the rest of the night together with many more to come. No forests needed.

A/N:

I have so many things to say about this. I know it's not Christmas anymore. I know. BUT it didn't exactly pan out that I could get this done for Christmas because somewhere in the middle, I changed the ending to Luke actually being a Prince of the Snape sort. I thought having two Luke Princes was "unbelievable" and would take away from the story so I took the twist out, but then I realized it's a story about wizards and magic so I changed it back (because who gives a hoot), to what I have now and suddenly it finished itself! Then it got away from me. They always do. So here we are 15,000 ish words later, and a quarter of the way through February.

Lemme know what you guys think though, I'm very excited to finally have this out there! :)

Happy Valentine's! ❤️