Happy Holidays! Occasionally, I have been known to indulge in sentimental moods around Winter holidays, and this is a result of such sentimentality. This is a Christmas story spanning eight years involving the beloved, Miss Hermione Granger and the less beloved, Professor Severus Snape. Each chapter will be two years, and the Epilogue will be posted on Christmas Day. If the thought of a growing mutual affection between Severus and Hermione makes you slightly ill or angry, I bid you adieu- I hope you have a lovely holiday.

With that, enjoy.

25 December, 1991

Severus Snape looked down at the three gifts that laid inconspicuously on his large ebony desk with an expression of bewilderment.

It was Christmas morning, and like every one before, he rose at five am, took a long bath, and read articles in Potions Weekly he had ear-marked the day before. After eating a small breakfast of toast, sausage, and tea, he made his way to his office to unwrap his gifts from Albus and Minerva and work further on his research for a new potion he had brewing in his laboratory. This year, however, there was a third package.

The first two were easily recognizable to Severus. Albus' package was wrapped in dark blue paper with twinkling gold stars and was tied up with an ostentatious, sparkly, gold ribbon. Minerva's gift was neatly wrapped in brown paper with a twine chord holding together its meticulously folded seams. The third present was unknown. It was wrapped in blue and white striped paper and had a small silver bow attached to the top.

Severus whipped out his wand and cast as many identify spells as he could think of over the whole lot of packages with a fervor one could only associate with extreme paranoia. Every spell sent off the same muted white light as the last. There was no hexes, curses, jinx, or poison looming beneath the coverings of any of the packages. This result disturbed the potion master to no end. He used his wand to gently set the gifts from Minerva and Albus to the side, and he focused his attention on the mystery package.

For good measure, he cast his detection spells a second time to rule out interference with the other gifts as a possible reason for the resulting white flashes. Alas, the last spell was cast, and a white glimmer shone off the wrapping, taunting him for his caution. Knowing that he looked like a mad-man, but not caring, he backed up to a safe distance and began muttering a spell to tear away the paper. When the last of the blue and white wrapping fell away without incident, he stepped marginally closer to inspect the box. Laying on top was a small card with a beautifully painted picture of poinsettias and "Happy Christmas" written in elegant, swirling calligraphy.

Very slowly and carefully, he reached out for the card. He felt no immediate burning or change in his thought patterns, so he continued on and picked it up. The card was printed in heavy card stock with a rough linen texture, upon opening, he found familiar handwriting.

Professor Snape,

I hope you have a Happy Christmas.

Hermione J. Granger

He would never admit it to a soul, but the simply wrapped gift from the incessantly annoying first year was the first he had received in all of his years of teaching. He felt a twinge of gratefulness strike a chord in his heart. Setting the card down with a huff, he set aside the feeling of foolishness that welled up inside him at his paranoia from receiving a gift, and opened the box. Inside was six fine crystal vials tucked delicately into a mound of white tissue. Upon closer inspection, the vials were actually engraved on the bottoms with his name. Master Severus Snape. The sentiment was not lost on the surly, black haired man.

The entirety of the Hogwarts staff and student body forgot that he did indeed have a Mastery in Potions. It was not a measure usually taken among the faculty at Hogwarts, as all that was needed for professorship was the successful completion of an apprenticeship, but Severus was ambitious and his love for Potions lead him to devote three years of his life to grueling Potion's research. He was actually the youngest person in Britain in over a century to have a Mastery in Potions. He had never insisted that students call him by his formal title, because he never saw it as worth the effort. If he forced the school to acknowledge his mastery, he would likely be saddled with even more duties. Between his classes, overseeing Slytherin House, and his responsibilities as a spy, he barely had room to work on his personal research, and he would not give that up for something as vain as being called by a title. Though, a small voice in his mind reminded him, it felt good to hear.

After carefully storing the vials away in his personal laboratory, he tucked the card in-between the pages of Antidotes and Poisons, then made his way back to the other gifts with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

25 December, 1992

Severus Snape was lounging on a delightfully cushy armchair in his quarters reading a thought provoking article from Potions Quarterly about the antidotal efficacy of bezoars relative to the goat's nutritional intake when a knock came at his door. Knowing that only one person in the entire castle had the stones to knock on his personal chamber doors, he called Albus in. The Headmaster was dressed in robes reminiscent of Father Christmas- deep red fabric with white fur and gold trim, a matching hat, and silver and gold baubles hanging from around his neck and waste.

"Ah, Severus," he greeted kindly. "You are the only one I know that can resist the lure of awaiting presents on Christmas morning."

Severus rolled his eyes at Albus' obvious attempt at light conversation to lessen the blow of whatever the old man would ask for. "What do you want Albus?" He asked while looking down at his watch. "It is hardly eight, and I am not due for any social interactions until lunch at noon."

Albus' genial smile faded minutely. "It seems that a child had a mishap with a Potion, and she is in the hospital ward in need of your attention."

A groan escaped Severus' pursed lips. Christmas was the one day he allowed himself to relax and rid himself of his many obligations. Whatever student dared to interrupt his peace was surely going to regret it. "Who exactly is in the hospital ward, Albus?" Severus ground out.

The headmaster hesitated for a short moment before softly saying, "Miss Hermione Granger."

The girl, he determined, would be the death of him. She laid in a white hospital bed at the back of the ward, surrounded by curtains. When he pushed them to the side, he was most decidedly not prepared for what he saw. She was covered in fur, her button nose transformed into a small snout, and a set of cat's ears sprouted from the top of her head. He simply could not hold back the rolling laughter that burst forth at her forlorn expression in her current state. Just when he figured he was done laughing, her whiskers twitched with irritation and he saw a tail flick from behind her, and his loud gaffes came back again.

She looked near on the verge of either crying or telling him where to stuff it by the time he quieted down. He was tempted to keep laughing to see just how she handled it, but Madam Pomfrey's 'I will kill you very slowly and no one will ever suspect me' glare stamped down his ideas. Severus knew exactly what was wrong with Miss Granger and exactly how to fix it from the moment he saw her furry face, but the recent loss of supplies from his cupboard made him less kind- even if a small part of him admired her cunning.

"Miss Granger," he drawled in his usual bored voice of displeasure. "Would you be so kind as to regale me with the tale of how you ended up in this state." His eyes flickered briefly to her tail, and he focused all of his will on not laughing at his own joke.

She, every the observant student, saw the flicker of amusement in his black eyes and the double entrendre in his words. Her mouth turned down and a bit of feline canines shown beneath her lips. "I received a gift for Yule that seemed to have backfired," she replied shortly.

Severus shot a heavy look at Madam Pomfrey, who retreated to her office with a deep sigh, and he turned back to his student. In a soft voice, he growled, "I know that you were brewing Polyjuice, Miss Granger. I also know that it was you that stole from my Potion's cupboard."

Her face seemed to pale at his words, her pupils dilating, and her breath hitching. She looked near a panic attack, which Severus figured she deserved for showing such a blatant disregard for school rules. However, he also felt a shred of sympathy for the girl. She was an undoubtedly hideous cat and would likely stay that way until the counter-potion could finish brewing in two weeks. He also knew that if it was one of his Slytherins, he would most likely commend them for the craftiness they displayed. While scolding them slightly for messing up, he would take pride in knowing that one of his students had brewed a potion above their year with adequate talent. Taking this into consideration, he continued his speech. "Your current state leads me to believe that your competency is lacking. Thus, you will serve two detentions with me once you are able. Hopefully, in those detentions you will learn to brew Polyjuice to an acceptable consistency and pick out human hair."

With a dramatic swish of his outer robes, he left the girl speechless.

Entering into his office, he found himself surprised once again by the presence of three gifts piled into a neat pyramid. Albus had outdone himself with paper that appeared like the night sky and a multi-colored bow that intermittently released tiny fireworks. Minerva's gift was the same as ever- brown paper meticulously folded and tied with matching brown twine. The third gift which sat at the top was dressed in silver paper and held together with a green and red striped bow.

For the sake of both consistency and to ease his ever-growing paranoia, he cast a series of detection spells on the stack, to once again find nothing of rapport.

Taking the third gift in his hands, he gently untied the bow and peeled back the paper to discover another box with a card on top. This years card had a watercolor rendition of a snowy cottage in a field and read "Yuletide Greetings" in the same elegant calligraphy. Inside the card read:

Professor Snape,

I hope you have a Happy Christmas.

Hermione J. Granger

P.S. Sorry- You'll know why.

A smile broke out over his face, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled the lid of the box off. Nestled in more tissue was a small glass gar containing a sampling of Boomslang skin and a velvet bag with a Bicorn horn resting inside.

"That crafty girl."

Final Note: I do not own Harry Potter, but I do have rights to my original plot. Comments, critiques, and criticisms are welcome. If you like this story so far, it will update each Monday from now until the 24th (with slightly longer chapters). The Epilogue will be posted on the 25th. If remembering such things poses a difficulty, the "Follow" option will allow you to receive emails updates when new chapters are posted.

As a present for all the have endured thus far: there will be two Epilogues. One for those that want to be left with a warm, cuddly feeling in their hearts, and one for those that enjoy the writings of Oscar Wilde.