The Christmas Rose

Hermione actually doesn't know why she is there. She doesn't really do anything and Snape doesn't ask her to help.

It is, however, a pleasure to watch him work. His long, nimble fingers peel back bark and moss to find the ingredients he needs. He is not above taking off his gloves to dig in the snow for things buried in the ground. His bag of phials grows as more items are added to it. And his excitement is contagious -- she's never seen him this happy.

"Miss... Professor... Granger, there's only one thing left on my list. Hellebore."

"The Christmas rose." Hermione has finally been able to catch up to his long strides and now they are walking side by side. She cocks her head at him sideways, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. "And Hermione is fine, Professor."

"And you may call me Severus."

They come to a clearing in the middle of the forest, and Snape stops and offers Hermione his elbow.

"If you don't mind... Hermione... I'd like to Apparate to my favorite place to gather hellebore."

She nods and takes his arm to Side-Along. His arm feels strong and muscular under his coat sleeve.

They arrive in a vast field covered in frost, a forest behind them. Bunches of hellebore dot the ground; they look sturdy and colorful and Snape is positively gleeful at the results. He pulls a small burlap bag from an inside coat pocket and begins quietly collecting as fast as he can. Hermione watches him -- it makes her happy to see him so happy. He is very obviously in his element.

Of its own accord, her tongue slips out to catch a snowflake that lands on her bottom lip. Snape looks up at her, and the look on his face is positively feral -- like he wants to hold her close and never let her go. Hermione's insides tingle at how delicious and dirty that sounds.

The snow begins to fall more steadily as the sky darkens. The look on Snape's face turns from possessiveness to apprehension. "Hermione, we need to get out of here." He grabs her hand and they start running. "Look, there's something up there, I think it's a cabin. Let's take shelter there." The snow is up to their ankles, and now halfway to Hermione's knees, but Snape Apparates them about half a mile away to a log cabin that looks very snug. The door is unlocked, and Snape hustles them both in. Immediately they are enveloped by a feeling of peace and safety. The wind has picked up, is presently howling outside, and Hermione doesn't want to think about how much snow is out there now, what they have escaped.

She looks around. The cabin seems unused, but surprisingly clean. Snape busies himself with starting a fire, and there is a small bed in the corner spread with patchwork quilts. There is a cedar chest at the foot of the bed with sweaters and more blankets. They will stay warm tonight.

A table and two chairs sit in another corner, close to a cupboard filled with food and other supplies. Hermione scans the shelves, wondering if it is all safe to eat and planning what they can cobble together for dinner. She realizes that they have missed lunch up at the castle.

Snape straightens up, now that there is a large fire crackling. He comes up behind her, putting his hands on the cupboard doors, so close to her. If she turns, her nose will hit his chest. She blushes at the close contact.

"I think" -- his voice seems very close to her ear -- "we should stay here for the night. There's no telling how long that freak snowstorm will last." He lifts his wand and moves it over the cupboard. "Nothing's poisonous, it all seems okay. Why don't we change into something warm." There's no mistaking the awkward flush of his cheeks, but it could be the glow of the fire.

They hang up their cloaks by the fire, and don wooly sweaters that they find in the cedar chest -- Hermione chooses green and Severus finds red. The bright colors make Hermione feel festive and cheerful in this lonely little cabin.

Hermione isn't one for cooking, but they manage to piece together a beef and barley soup. She finds a large, crusty loaf of bread, and Snape charms it to cut itself into slices that he slathers with butter.

He had the foresight to send Professor McGonagall a Patronus, telling her they were safe and not to expect them back anytime soon. As the doe gallops off, Hermione wonders what the Headmistress will think of the two of them being stranded together but Severus assures her that McGonagall is quite discreet.

Both Snape and Hermione have second helpings of the hearty soup. Hermione has never had anything so tasty -- but it may just be their extenuating circumstances.

They polish off most of the bread, and then sit there rather embarrassed, trying not to look at the only bed.

"I think" -- Severus checks his watch -- "that maybe we should go to bed and rest. There's no telling what we will face tomorrow."

He banks the fire, discreetly giving Hermione privacy to change. She takes off her boots and pants, performs cleaning spells on herself, and transfigures her clothes into soft pajama bottoms and a pair of fluffy socks. She leaves her sweater on. Then she buries her face in a book she found, trying not to look at Severus. As he transfigures himself a pair of black running pants, his sweater rides up, revealing a strip of skin that looks very tantalizing to Hermione. She licks her lips without realizing she is doing it.

Then they stand at the bed, awkwardly staring at it and at each other. It is too cold for one of them to sleep on the floor. Severus says he has tried lengthening the bed, but it really only grew a few inches. He likewise tried casting a spell on the cabin, but it refused to modify itself at all.

Eventually Hermione climbs onto the bed and draws back a quilt. "Look, there's nothing for it, we'll both just have to sleep here."

Severus groans, resigned. "Fine. Shove over. And you take the wall, Miss Granger... Hermione. I'll sleep closest to the door."

As they lie down and arrange the quilts over themselves, Hermione says, "You know, I've said you can just call me Hermione. 'Miss Granger Hermione' is such a mouthful."

He is silent for a beat, and then he says, "Fine." He clears his throat and adds, "Hermione, I'm going to add some locking charms and protective spells to this cabin. I think that might be a wise idea."

"Thank you," Hermione says simply, drawing a quilt up to her chin.

Through a crack in the curtain, the moon provides her with just enough light to see Snape wave his hands and his wand about in the air. The way his wrists and fingers twist and gesture is just captivating. She can feel right away when the magic is complete and the cabin is securely locked and barricaded. Snape sets his wand down on the bedside table and then lies back down.

Her sleeve brushes against his, and she then finds herself tucked under his arm. "Huddle close to me," he murmurs into the darkness, "you know, for body heat."

Hermione doesn't need to be told twice. She holds him around his middle and pillows her head on his chest. He is actually very comfortable, and their little corner of this mysterious cabin is really cozy and warm.

She is just about to drift off to sleep when Severus clears his throat again.

"Look... Hermione... I may never get this chance again. May I kiss you?"

Her eyes fly open in surprise. To answer him, she trails her hand up his chest and strokes his face. The bed shifts underneath them as he turns on his side and takes her in his arms.