The Great Hogwarts Christmas Gift Exchange Debacle of 1996

~The Great Hogwarts Christmas Gift Exchange Debacle of 1996~

Part 4 of 5: Christmas Morning

CRACK!

Oh, Merlin's testicles - what have I done to deserve you? You put that wand away right this second, you gothic nightmare! Oh, I did not sign on for this when I agreed to help old Albus out this Christmas, no sir. There's not a favour in the Wizarding universe one can call in that would make me deal with your black-hearted, greasy-haired, dead-soulled - but, wait. Wait. You're not him - what have you done with him, you rogue impostor? I know that traitorous, nasty bastard with one glance, and you look like him, but... this is ridiculous. Since when did you grow a soul? A heart? Oh, but Albus has some serious explaining to do about you, and that's for certain. What's that? Don't tell Albus what? That you suddenly appear to be human? That you- oh. Oh my. It's not just that, is it? There's a reason for this change in you since we last met. No, don't tell me, I'll figure it out.

I SAID, PUT THAT WAND AWAY!

Honestly, trying to hex a poor Christmas Cracker - it's just sad, that's what it is. Hmm, let me see now... turn around, please. Oh, shove your bloody Occlumency where the sun don't shine, would you? It won't help you here anyway - I'll find what I'm looking for in you. I always do. Oh yes, there it is. Well, would you look at that! A thousand years in this business and still, wonders have not ceased. You, my reigning prince of darkness, are in love. Oh! Ha ha! This really is just too rich! Wait until I tell the other Crackers, they won't believe me till the day I die.

YOU REACH FOR THAT WAND ONE MORE TIME AND I'LL SCREAM TO THAT ENTIRE PARLOUR THAT EVERYONE'S FAVOURITE DOUBLE AGENT HAS A BOYFRIEND!

Ahem. I'm sorry, but you really shouldn't try my patience like that - it's a very stressful time of year for me, you know. All right, now let's see. You need to get him a Christmas present, I suppose? Something that tells him exactly how you feel, without being overly sentimental... oh, dear me. That's what you propose? - pardon the pun, of course. Well. Give me a moment; I certainly wasn't expecting that. You know, you might actually have an idea there. No, I still don't like you, and make no mistake about that, but I can see that you genuinely want this - even more than you're willing to admit to yourself, and certainly more than you'll ever admit to him, the poor sod. I just hope he knows what he's getting into. Oh - ah! Gracious me, he most certainly does, I see.

Well. I suppose I should hope that you're happy together, then. He can obviously do better, of course, but if he insists on you, well, who am I to oppose it? You'll fuck it up, naturally, and sooner than you think - what, Crackers aren't allowed a little sailor tongue in stressful situations? - ahem. Yes, it almost won't happen, you'll have to do some very serious persuading, I see, but after that, well, I cannot predict, of course, but I daresay even you might find happiness for yourself... Yes, fine, you may go now, you rotten creature, so sorry to have bothered you. Honestly.

*********************************************

When Lupin rose the next morning, having finally fallen into a fitful sleep only at dawn, he expected that Snape would long since have fled the house - and him - forever. He was therefore startled to find the man leaning pensively against the counter in the kitchen, sipping a cup of black coffee.

"You're still here," Lupin observed. He was determined to stay calm, to explain what had happened the night before and not to rise to Snape's baiting. The man loved to pick fights, Lupin reminded himself, steeling his frayed nerves for battle.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving," Snape replied coldly. "You weren't supposed to be up this early."

"Not surprisingly, Snape, I couldn't sleep," Lupin shot back.

"But that is surprising," Snape said in a silky drawl. "Didn't Ms. Granger tire you out?" He raised his cup to his lips and eyed Lupin over the rim.

Lupin swore and turned away. "Stop it, Snape," he said after a moment's pause. "This is ridiculous. You can't honestly believe that I did anything with that girl last night."

"Didn't look that way."

"I said, stop it! I haven't touched a girl in twenty years, and you know it - it was a mistake, all right? I thought it was your room, you prat! I was coming to find you." Lupin threw his hands up in exasperation and leaned into the opposing counter.

"After insisting I keep my hands off you while the children were here?" Snape snorted.

"Yes! I- I changed my mind."

"Clearly."

"No!" Lupin banged a hand on the counter. "We already broke that rule anyway, why are you bringing that up - why are you doing this? It's fucking Christmas Day. What's this really about?"

Snape threw his empty cup into the sink with a clatter and advanced on the other man, his eyes glittering. "What is this really about?" he hissed. "This is about your complete and utter disregard for our relationship. This is about your insistence on spending your days, your nights - your life - with everyone but me. This is about how fucking tired I am of playing second fiddle to Black, or Potter Junior, or now Granger - to whomever you've decided needs you more than I do. This isn't about sex, Lupin - while your excuses may be appallingly weak, I fully believe you did not actually shag the girl. But that is not the point, not by a long shot."

He paused briefly to catch his breath. Lupin was watching him with an expression of utter shock on his face, unable to speak.

"This is about me refusing to be your convenient fuck-buddy anymore," he continued quietly. "I will not be relegated to a guest bedroom like some embarrassing elderly relation when your bloody orphans come to stay. I will not sneak you into the dungeons anymore for a quick shag, then allow you to leave right after to come back here and pore over old photo albums with the hippogriff. You are mine, Remus - I want you, only you, all of you."

Lupin could hardly breathe as he watched Snape plunge a hand into his robes and produce a tiny lacquered box. He hesitated a second, then slammed it down on the counter.

"Here, you insufferable git. Happy fucking Christmas." He swept out of the kitchen then, before Lupin could find his voice to stop him. Lupin heard the front door slam and Mrs. Black's portrait start wailing. He closed his eyes in an effort to push down the emotion wrenching through his stomach.

Oh holy Merlin.

He opened them and turned to look at the small box on the counter, reaching for it with shaking hands. He pulled his wand out and tapped it lightly, muttering a spell to unseal the edges. The box lifted out of his palm and rotated in the air a few times before its lid opened and it settled back into his hand.

A sob welled up in his throat before he could stop it, as he stared in disbelief at the two white gold bands lying together against the snowy interior of the box. The head of a serpent and the body of a lion merged seamlessly in an ornate yet stunningly simple design. Oh, Severus, he thought as his chest constricted painfully.

Commitment rings.

*********************************************

CRACK!

Oh good, the Wizarding World's reigning Boy Who Just Keeps Living, hmm? Honestly. Skulking around here as though your life is really so horrible. What's that? Well, it is not, you pouting infant! Look around you - everyone in this house, not to mention several thousand people beyond it, would give their lives for you without asking a single question of it, and here you are, in your usual -

Oh. Well, all right. Perhaps that was insensitive of me. You never asked him to give his life for you, I know. You never asked your parents to do it either, though, did you? So stop dwelling. What's done is done, and it's Christmas, my lad! Now, let me have a look at you. Mm-hmm, very interesting. What? I most certainly am nothing like that plebeian Sorting Hat! Ahem. Now stand still. Yes, very well - so, you know exactly to whom you most want to give a gift this year, hmm? A book? Oh, sweet Merlin. Yes, that will get her attention - I'm sure she's never had anyone give her a book before.

Might I suggest that you simply tell the girl how you bloody feel? Well, why not? Oh, very well. Go off with that mate of yours and pick up some Chocolate Frog cards for your girlfriends - that will certainly impress them. Honestly. Off with you! I have no time for spoiled brats who refuse to listen to my impeccable advice...

*********************************************

Hermione approached the door cautiously and knocked before she could lose her nerve.

"What?" a voice snapped from inside.

"Harry, it's me," she called. "Please, can I come in?"

She heard a snort in the room and took it as an affirmative answer. Pushing the door gently open, she stepped into the room to find Harry and Ron sitting cross-legged on one of the beds, studiously engaged in a game of Wizard's chess.

"Oh, look who it is," Ron called loudly. "The whore of Hogwarts."

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry quietly, looking up at Hermione.

She winced and pressed her lips together, watching them carefully but not daring to speak. What could she say? No one spoke for a long moment.

"Look," Harry began at last, "we're just... surprised, is all. Why didn't you tell us about you and Remus?" he asked her, a pained expression on his face.

"Because there's nothing to tell!" she exclaimed, pulling out a chair from a nearby desk and collapsing into it. "Nothing happened last night, all right? Nothing's ever happened."

Ron eyed her suspiciously. "Not yet, yeah? But he wants to, I bet. What's he been telling you, Hermione? That you need an older man because you're so mature? That you should let him go to bed with you? Aaargh!" He let out an indistinct howl and pounded his fist into the bed. "What a disgusting old prat he is, preying on a teenage girl! Especially when he knows how Harry feels about - "

Harry shot him a look of pure, deathly loathing and Ron's mouth clamped shut. "No, he doesn't know that," he muttered to Ron through gritted teeth. "And neither does she."

Ron's face went pink. "Aw, fuck. Sorry, mate," he whispered.

"How Harry feels about what?" Hermione repeated slowly, her eyes darting between the two boys.

"Um, Ron," said Harry, looking slightly green, "maybe you should go and um, wish Ginny and Luna a Happy Christmas?"

"Right," Ron muttered, scrambling off the bed. "Right - " He bolted for the door. "Uh, Happy Christmas, Hermione," he called over his shoulder.

Harry ran a hand through his tousled hair after Ron had left, exhaling dramatically and chancing a peek at the girl across from him. "Um, so you..." he began, swallowing thickly. "You fancy him, then? Remus, I mean?"

Hermione sighed and looked out the window. "I don't know, Harry," she replied. "I did, you know, until last night... I convinced myself that he let me come over here to borrow books so often because he was interested in me."

"But he's, like, forty years old!" exclaimed Harry with disgust.

She shot him a look. "He's thirty-six," she said, sniffing, "and I don't expect you to understand, but I just, I don't know..." She blushed as she turned back to the window, too embarrassed to meet Harry's eyes.

"OK, Hermione, OK," Harry said softly. "You don't have to explain."

She sighed with relief.

"But can you tell me what happened last night? I just- why did he have his shirt off, if you weren't- if - " He stopped and looked down at his hands.

Hermione took a deep breath and swallowed her pride. She might as well tell him. Besides, she was still nearly paralysed with curiosity about who exactly Lupin had intended to seek out last night, and maybe Harry would have some insight. She turned to face him and relayed the whole sordid tale, or as much of it as she knew - writing the letter and wrapping the book, mistakenly leaving it for Snape instead of Lupin, then thinking it was all about to happen when Lupin showed up in her room, taking his clothes off and declaring his love for her.

Harry sat stock-still through the whole thing, letting the silence linger in the air when she had finished. "You... you were going to... let him do that... with you?" he whispered at last.

She nodded, feeling her cheeks colour again. "Oh, Harry, it was a foolish girl's mistake, I see that now! Please tell me you don't think less of me for this - that you don't think I'm a- a- whore." Her eyes filled with tears.

Harry scrambled off the bed and took her hand in his, leading her back to sit with him. "No, nobody thinks that. Don't listen to Ron, he was just upset - he thought Remus was taking advantage of you."

She sniffled and nodded. "But Harry, that's not even important anymore - what I need to figure out is whose room he thought he was going to!" Her eyes dried instantly as her brain found itself with a mystery to solve. "There's someone in this house that he's been - argh! - having sex with, and he wanted to tell them that it's more than just sex, that he loves them - her, I mean. But who? It can't be Ginny or Luna, can it?" She turned desperate eyes on Harry.

But he surprised her by bursting into laughter. "Hermione," he said sternly, "part of the reason I was so shocked last night was because Sirius had told me that Remus... um... "

"What?" Hermione pressed, her eyes wide.

"Well, that he doesn't exactly go for the ladies."

Hermione's face turned angry. "So I'm right! He is a perverted old sod who's probably after poor Ginny - she's the youngest of us, and - "

"Hermione!" Harry was laughing uncontrollably now. " 'Cleverest witch of your age,' yeah? First, he strangely wasn't a 'perverted old sod' when you thought he was after you, and second, what I meant was, he doesn't go for the ladies or the teenage girls."

He watched her with amusement as his words sunk in. It took quite awhile.

"You mean... he's... gay?" Her lip trembled.

Harry wiped his eyes. "Oh, you are truly unbelievable. It really never occurred to you? He's always reading about bloody Oscar Wilde, for one thing, not to mention the fact that he can't take his eyes off Snape whenever he's here. No offence, Hermione, but it's really not all that shocking that he wasn't into you."

Hermione's brain was clearly overtaxed from trying to process all this information. "Gay? Wait - Oscar Wilde! Of course, that was the scandal... and, oh gods - Snape? Is that who..." Her eyes threatened to pop out of her head.

Harry leaned over and pulled her into his arms, still chuckling. "Well, I don't know for sure, but by process of elimination, and considering I really don't think Remus would fancy shagging me or Ron, then yes, my best guess would be that he was aiming for Snape's room last night."

Hermione groaned into Harry's shoulder. "Oh gods, that reminds me - Snape still thinks my letter was for him! Oh... this is a disaster..."

"Not to mention," Harry pointed out, "you probably put a significant dent in their relationship - if, indeed, they have a relationship - " he paused to grimace - "when he saw Remus in bed with you."

She pulled back and looked at him. "Oh no! You're right! What if I- what if I've ruined everything for Remus! Oh Harry, I have to go to Snape, I have to explain - "

"Hermione! Remus will sort it out, I'm sure. Do you really want to have that conversation with Snape?"

She paused for a moment, then started to laugh. "No," she managed between giggles, "I don't." She sighed and looked at him. "Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Is that why you don't like Remus anymore? Because Sirius told you that?"

Harry looked startled. "No! I mean, I don't think so."

"Then what is it? You two used to be friends, didn't you? Before Sirius came back and everything?"

Harry was silent for a moment. "Yeah. I don't know. I'm just tired of all these guys that knew my dad... all his friends suddenly showing up and trying to... I don't know." He frowned and looked away.

"Be your dad?" Hermione prompted in a soft voice.

He nodded. "And it's not fair, you know, that they all knew him - that Remus knew him, and gets to remember him - hell, he didn't even tell me, all that year at school, that he was best mates with my dad - he knew him, and I didn't... I don't." His voice trailed off. "And anyway, where was he all my life? He waited till I was thirteen to show up, and now I'm supposed to instantly bond with him? I just... it makes me mad, is all."

Hermione nodded as she settled back into Harry's chest and let him wrap his arms around her. They were both silent for awhile.

"This is nice," she ventured at last, her voice barely a whisper. She immediately felt Harry tense up.

"Yeah," he said nervously, "it is."

"Harry?"

"What?"

"Um, what did Ron mean, about Remus knowing how you feel about... well, was it about me?" Her stomach did a little flip as she waited for him to answer.

He took his time, clearly unsure about what to say - or, rather, how much to admit. "Yeah," he said at last. "But he was wrong, I've never told Remus about it," he added.

"But you... you want to be with me?" She raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. "I mean, I don't know, and I don't want to mess things up for us, but... you know. You're- you just... know me."

She smiled and felt more peaceful than she had for months. He was right - she did know him. And this just felt good. Before she could think about what she was doing, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his lips. She pulled back gently and watched his face as the blush rose in his cheeks.

"Hermione," he breathed, pulling her close and burying his face in her curly hair.

She stroked his back and nestled into his neck, enjoying the feel of his breath on her ear. They stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other, Hermione wondering why on earth she had never thought to do this before. She suddenly couldn't imagine not doing this; the entire past twenty-four hours were suddenly a blur.

"I'm not having sex with you right away, you know," she warned, a smile tugging at her lips.

He jerked his head up and looked at her in surprise, then grinned broadly. "Damn," he muttered. "But I thought you were the whore of Hogwarts?"

He laughed as she took a swipe at his arm and he fell back onto the bed, pulling her down with him. "I don't care about that," he whispered a moment later. "Will you just... lie here with me for a bit?"

"That sounds nice," she said, snuggling in beside him. A thought occurred to her and she lifted her head slightly. "Is this your gift to me?" she asked shyly.

He was silent for a moment, then nodded, leaning in to place a light kiss on her forehead. "Yeah. Is that all right?"

"More than all right." She buried her head in the crook of his neck and let him wrap his arms around her. His breathing evened out after a few minutes, and Hermione figured he had fallen asleep. This was nice, she concluded happily, stroking his back. This was definitely something she could get used to.

But first, she thought with a rush of impending doom, she still had unfinished business with her Potions professor.

*********************************************

"Ho Ho Ho! Happy Christmas to all the Hogwarts boys and girls, Ho Ho - "

Santa Claus stepped uncertainly out of the fireplace and glanced around the kitchen. Cool brown eyes finally rested on the room's lone occupant, a despondent-looking man collapsed against the counter near the sink, his eyes glued to the floor.

He yanked his head up in surprise at the sound of the intruder, then his face progressed through a parade of expressions - from surprise, to confusion, to disbelief, to amusement. He finally broke out laughing, taking whatever small object he'd been clutching in his palm and stowing it safely in his pocket.

"Minerva!" Lupin cried, chuckling in astonishment. "What on earth are you wearing?"

Minerva McGonagall frowned as she dusted the ash and Floo powder residue from her bright red, fur-trimmed robes, her matching hat, and her bushy white beard.

Ron walked through the kitchen door at that moment, yawning and scratching his stomach, and glanced casually at McGonagall. "Nice beard, Professor," he said, smirking.

He was followed by Ginny and Luna, who also appraised their Deputy Headmistress with uncertainty.

"You seem to be trying to look like Santa Claus," Luna said to her thoughtfully, taking a seat at the table, "which is quite absurd, since you aren't a man."

McGonagall sighed dramatically and pulled her wand out, waving it in front of her face and muttering a muffled incantation. The beard dissolved instantly, revealing her usual disdainful scowl. "Obviously, the Headmaster is best suited to this task - " she began icily, tearing the hat off her head.

"He does have a better beard than you," agreed Luna, ignoring the murderous look McGonagall threw her.

" - but he's obliged to play that role at Hogwarts," she continued. "We have an unusually large number of first-years staying over Christmas this year, so Albus thought it best to pull the full Santa act for them."

"Ah," Lupin replied, running a hand over his weary face and forcing a smile - "leaving you to play the role for us, hmm? Very sporting of you, Minerva, thank you."

"Yes, well, I was rather expecting a cheerier lot here this morning, I must say! Where are the others? Why is there no tea made? Remus, what are you giving these children to eat?" She glared at him accusingly.

"Oh," Ron said loudly, "he's been busy, Professor." He crossed his arms and cast a scathing look at Lupin.

"The children are eating just fine, Minerva," Lupin muttered, meeting Ron's nasty stare with one of his own. "Molly's sending over a goose later for dinner."

"I see," she murmured, clearly unconvinced.

"Professor," Luna's airy voice interrupted, "why did you conjure a beard in order to play Santa Claus for us?" She gazed evenly at McGonagall, and Lupin looked relieved at this diversion of the conversation away from his lack of culinary expertise.

"Because," McGonagall replied slowly, seemingly unsure whether the question was serious or not, "Santa Claus has a beard."

Luna sighed. "Perhaps if he's a man he does," she pointed out, as Ginny broke into a grin beside her. "But you aren't a man."

"No, Ms. Lovegood. Ten points to Ravenclaw for noticing that despite my advanced Transfiguration skills, I have yet to change myself into a man." She glared at Luna with impatience and started to turn back towards Lupin.

But Luna wasn't finished. "I think that Christmas needs a lead female figure."

Ron rolled his eyes. "That's what Mrs. Claus is for, Luna," he told her, as if this were obvious.

"No," a new voice broke in as Hermione stepped into the kitchen, "she's right, Ron. Mrs. Claus is just Santa's wife - she has no identity of her own."

Luna nodded. "You know, my father told me that in Russia they have some kind of snow maiden instead of Mrs. Claus. And she's not anyone's wife. She can do as she likes."

Ginny piped up then, giggling. "I don't know about that, Luna," she said. "I've read about her, too, and it looks like she might have a really inappropriate relationship with old Santa there. It's kind of gross," she added. "He's old enough to be her grandfather!" She laughed outright for a second before noticing the awkward silence that had settled on the room.

Lupin and Hermione were both gazing studiously at the floor, Ron's eyes darted suspiciously between them, and McGonagall seemed entirely unsure of what to do with any of the lunatics in this group.

"Thank you for the cultural lesson, girls," she began haltingly, as Luna looked up at her and smiled. "In future years I will, er- try to conjure a gender-appropriate costume, hmm? Now - " she trained her eyes on Lupin - "you have everything under control here, Remus?" Her tone of voice made it very clear that she did not believe anything could be further from the truth.

"I do, Minerva," he managed, pushing himself away from the counter with great effort and forcing a smile. "Thank you for checking in. Happy Christmas to you, hmm? And give our regards to Albus."

She nodded. "I shall indeed. Now, er- if you all would excuse me..." Her gaze swept across the room one more time, then she instantly morphed into her feline form and scurried out a nearby window.

"Ronald?" Luna piped up sweetly, "why don't you show Ginny and me that marvellous Quidditch magazine again?" She pushed her chair back and headed for the door, beckoning the two Weasleys to follow her. "I have so many questions about that Golden Snitch."

"Right!" Ginny chimed in, scrambling out of her chair and following, jerking her head towards the door when she caught Ron's eye. "You're such an expert, Ron," she cooed.

"What? You're better at Quidditch than I am, Ginny!"

The two girls glared at him.

"Oh, right." Ron glanced at Hermione for a moment, clearly unwilling to leave her alone with Lupin, but she smiled gently at him.

"It's all right, Ron," she insisted. "I'll be up in a sec, OK? I'd like to see that magazine, too."

Ron let his eyes linger on her a moment longer, then got up and followed Luna and Ginny. "Yeah, all right," he mumbled, then called loudly over his shoulder at Lupin - "Yep, Quidditch is a great game for girls to learn when they're sixteen. Oh yeah, sixteen is too young for girls to do a lot of other things, but they can play Quidditch, that's for sure - "

"Oh, stop it..." Ginny whispered, pushing him ahead of her and out the door.

*********************************************

Lupin let it close all the way before turning to Hermione. He took a deep breath. "Look, Hermione, I really do apologise for last night. I never meant - "

"No, Remus, really." Hermione stopped him. "Don't apologise. I'm the one who owes you an apology, for sticking my nose in your business and asking you all those questions..."

"You had a right to be curious, after what I did," he replied, looking at her sheepishly. "I guess I should be honest with you, since you've been so honest with me."

"No." She shook her head. "You don't have to say a thing. It's your business."

He eyed her warily for a moment, then nodded. "All right, thank you, Hermione. I appreciate that."

Neither of them spoke for several seconds, Lupin staring intently out the kitchen window, Hermione straight at the floor.

"We're doing an outstanding job of avoiding the real issue here," said Lupin at last, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his gaze back to her.

"Yeah," she agreed in a small voice. "Do you mind if we keep it up awhile longer?" Her face coloured.

"Yes," he replied kindly, "I'm afraid I do. Hermione," he began, "you're a wonderful girl, and I'm very fond of you..."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "Please, Remus, don't give me this speech!"

"I have to," he insisted. "Just listen for a moment, all right?"

"No, please," she moaned, covering her face with her hands. "I made a mistake. I- I let a crush get the better of me. It- um, it won't happen again." She chanced a peek at him, and he laughed.

"Hermione, I'm flattered, you know. I really am. Any man would be thrilled to have your affections." He smiled warmly at her. "But I'm quite simply too old for you, even if I wasn't already involved with someone else."

She nodded wearily, and neither of them bothered to point out the other reason he wasn't interested in her.

"Yeah, I understand. Um, can I go now?"

"Of course." He smiled at her sympathetically. This was, without a doubt, one of the more uncomfortable conversations he'd ever had - he winced thinking about that letter, in which she had practically begged him to shag her, and now he was making her stand here while he tried, most ineloquently, to let her down easy. It had to be beyond humiliating for her. "Dinner's at three, OK? You can tell the others."

"All right," she agreed, heading quickly towards the door. "And, um- Happy Christmas."

He stifled a bitter laugh. "Happy Christmas, Hermione," he called behind her, shaking his head and wondering just how immoral it would be to perform a very strong Memory Charm on the lot of them, so that they could all blissfully forget the sorry events of the night before.

*********************************************

CRACK!

A Quidditch magazine and a box of Chocolate Frogs? That's what you've gotten her? I know you're a bit short on cash, laddie, but are you short on imagination, too? Oh. I see that you are. Very well, then - it's probably best that you don't waste your money on her, since she'll never go out with you anyway. Oh, pshaw 'last year'! You're sixteen! A year is a lifetime. It certainly has been for her, you know. Well, anyway, give her your gifts, they're lovely, but for Merlin's sake stop stalking her. And when she reveals there's someone else, I suggest very strongly that you neither laugh, nor cry, nor hurl sharp objects in their direction, hmm? Your girl is out there somewhere, my lad. But it's not her, I'm afraid. It's just not her.

*********************************************

"Professor Lupin?" a timid voice called, as an apprehensive hand knocked on the door of the library.

Lupin sighed as he raised his head from the desk and ran a hand through his hair. Was there not a moment's peace and quiet to be found in this house? He quite had his hands full, what with trying to keep Harry's hatred of him at a tolerable level, Hermione's emotional vulnerability under control, Arthur's words the night before from driving him to the brink of lust-fuelled insanity, and, of course, Snape's gift - a marriage proposal, for fuck's sake - and subsequent refusal to speak to him from making his heart ache so badly he could barely stand it. Was it too much to ask for a few minutes alone in his own bloody library?

"I- I'm sorry to bother you, but, um, do you have a second?"

He frowned. It didn't sound like Hermione, at least - that was a relief. "Of course, come on in," he called wearily. He was surprised to see Ginny Weasley appear at the door, carefully clicking it closed behind her and gazing at him with an unreadable look on her face. Lupin's eyes darted around frantically. Oh, please not another teenage girl looking to seduce me, he thought with alarm. What in flying hell did I do in a past life to deserve a sentence as the older-man crush of choice for the young witches of Hogwarts?

"What's up, Ginny?" he asked pleasantly, leaning back in his chair and quickly checking to make sure his collar was buttoned as far up as it could be. Snape had always told him that his neck and collarbone were the first parts of his body that had led to Snape's undoing - before he'd had the pleasure of being introduced to the other parts, of course. He smiled as he thought of it, and relaxed into the chair. No problem, he thought, coming to an instant decision. If the girl tries to declare her love for me, I'll just tell her about Snape. That should frighten her off for good.

"Well," Ginny began, moving to take a chair beside Lupin. "This is a bit awkward, but I wanted to talk to you about something."

Merlin's fucking Christmas pudding, Lupin thought sadly, his head dropping ungracefully into his hands.

"Er- Professor? Are you OK?"

He didn't figure this was the best time to encourage familiarity with the girl and remind her to call him Remus.

"I- I can come back, I just, I thought you might be able to help me."

"No, Ginny, it's fine." He might as well confront it head-on. "But I should tell you first that as a general rule of thumb in my life, I don't date teenage girls." He chuckled suddenly. "Never have, in fact."

Ginny looked around uncertainly. "Um, I know that. That's, er- why I'm here."

He raised his head.

"I mean, I know you keep your private life to yourself, and I totally respect that, but I just, well, something's happened - um, to me, that is, and I- well, I thought maybe you could give me some advice."

His brow creased. His private life? What the hell could she possibly have to talk to him about that concerned his -

Oh.

He gave her a long look then. She was anxious, that was for certain, and apprehensive about something. But she also had a flush to her cheeks, an excitement to her eyes... He took a deep breath, his sensitive nose working to decipher the scent she carried. Ah, there is was. Love. But not for him.

He leaned back and smiled at her. "Of course, Ginny - or, at least, I can try. I'm sorry, I thought you were here about something else."

She wrinkled her nose as she considered him, thinking back to what he'd just said to her, then she laughed. "Oh, gods no!" She shook her head. "Don't worry, Professor, I'm definitely not trying to date you." Her eyes glittered mischievously, and Lupin felt the colour rise in his face.

"Sorry," he grunted. "Wait, does everyone know about that, then?" He looked up at her sheepishly.

"Er- yes," she admitted. "Ron told us this morning. He said, um- well, that Hermione's frantic, trying to figure out whose room you meant to go to." She laughed outright at that.

Lupin shifted uncomfortably. So much for keeping his blasted private life to himself.

"Like that's hard to figure out!" She gasped and clutched at her sides. "She thinks it was me or, ha ha - " she almost couldn't speak now, she was laughing so hard - "or, or Luna!" She wiped her eyes and giggled, trying to compose herself.

Lupin chuckled despite himself. He was fairly certain he knew where this was going, but there was no sense counting his chickens yet - not five minutes ago he'd been quite wrong in his first guess. "Enlighten me," he replied, eyebrows raised. "Why is that funny?"

Ginny instantly sobered. "Oh. No, Professor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, it's just that, well, the thought of you wanting me or Luna - or any teenage girl, as you just said - and then after what's happened with me and Luna, well, Hermione's just not very observant, is she?" Her mouth twisted into a wry smile, and Lupin was suddenly reminded very much of Arthur. Despite maintaining an aura of innocence and even naiveté, that man knew exactly what was going on around him. And so, apparently, did his daughter.

"Call me Remus, Ginny," he said softly. "And can I wager a guess that you're here because you want to tell me what's happened between you and Luna?" He looked at her with kind eyes.

Her cheeks caught fire then and her gaze dropped to her hands. She nodded.

"All right, I'm listening," he prodded gently, wondering vaguely when he had assumed the position of teen counsellor to the newly gay at Hogwarts, then remembering that Snape wasn't exactly likely to fill the role if he didn't. He stifled a laugh at the thought.

Ginny looked up at him, a shy smile on her lips. "She kissed me last night."

Lupin felt himself smiling back. What a happy pair they would make, he thought, but then he immediately clamped down on his enthusiasm. Ginny still had a significant family hurdle to overcome if this was going to be her life. "That's wonderful, Ginny," he said cautiously. "Were you surprised by this?"

Ginny considered the question. "I guess a little," she admitted. "But I can hardly even remember now what I thought before it, or during it. All I know is that afterwards, it was like..." She sighed and collapsed back against her squashy chair, a dreamy look on her face. "It was like it's always been this way between us, like we've always been meant for this, you know? I can't remember yesterday, or the day before - I can't imagine how we lived without this."

Lupin almost teared up at her words. He was suddenly assaulted by memories of his own first kiss, first real kiss, his awakening... it had been like coming home after years of aimless wandering, and suddenly, nothing before it made sense, nothing before it felt right. He understood exactly what Ginny meant.

He found himself nodding at her. "I know," he murmured absently.

She smiled. "I thought you would," she said carefully. "I thought you would... understand."

"And why did you think that?" he asked with interest.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I can just sort of sense these things."

Lupin laughed at that. "Oh, my dear," he said, "you have no idea how very like your father you are."

She smiled proudly. "Thanks."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ginny spoke again, a new darkness in her voice. "I mean," she began, "it feels right, and I want to be with her. I want to try, at least."

Lupin nodded.

"But..." She sighed. "How do you do it? How do you keep something amazing like love a secret? How do you live like that?" Her eyes filled with tears. "I can never tell anyone how happy I am, can I?"

Lupin's chest tightened as he watched her. Ah yes, he thought sadly. There was the wonder and awe of that first kiss, of suddenly knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, where you belong in the world. But then, after that, there was the hiding, the lying, the secrets... the wholehearted belief that the only way to keep that happiness was to keep it private - not to let the outside world taint it for you, steal it from you.

"Oh, Ginny," he said helplessly, rising and taking her hand, lifting her out of the chair and into his arms. The emotion of the past twenty-four hours was suddenly too much for her, and she began sobbing into his shoulder.

"It's not fair," she whispered, hiccoughing. "Why should I have to hide it? Why should I have to hide her?"

"You're young, Ginny," he soothed, stroking her hair. "You're still so young - you don't have to decide anything yet. You can decide later, if you want to tell people. You don't have to hide anything, if you don't want to."

She pulled back and looked at him, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. "You do," she said accusingly.

A grimace flashed across his face. "And that's my choice," he said quietly. He suddenly didn't feel like pointing out that the Ministry had some very explicit laws on the books regarding these things among men, which quite frankly were not there for women. That was always a chat they could have another day.

"But why?!" she cried all of a sudden. "Why don't you and Professor Snape shout it from the rooftops? You both deserve to be happy, don't you?"

Lupin winced. Arthur and his daughter and their fucking intuition. We are, he wanted to say. We're happier with our secrets than we would be without them - not to mention that neither of us really wants to get hauled off to Azkaban for shagging each other. But he knew in his heart that he would be lying - that they weren't happier this way.

"Ginny, whatever you think you know about Professor Snape and me - " oh gods, Severus would unleash several Unforgivables on both of them if he could hear this conversation right now - "well, it's our business, all right? And it's complicated." He almost snorted. That was the understatement of the century. "I'm happy to talk this out with you, and help you in any way I can, but you can't pass judgement on my life, is that clear?" He didn't mean to sound so harsh with the girl, but honestly, he didn't need love advice from a fifteen-year-old.

Ginny nodded and sat back down, letting another minute go by before speaking again. "What about your family?" she asked. "Do they know?"

Lupin paused, then shook his head. She really had no problem with asking all him all the most difficult questions that he had refrained from asking himself for a long, long time. His family hadn't been too sorry to see him go off to Hogwarts, truth be told - to let Dumbledore worry about locking him up every month in an iron cage, to free themselves from the obligation of coming up with new excuses to tell the neighbours about the noise. They had kept their distance ever since his graduation. Not much to be proud of, having a werewolf as a son; he didn't figure that much good could come from him pointing out that they actually had a gay werewolf as a son.

But he shook himself out of his own memories and focused on the girl beside him. She wasn't in for an easy time, he guessed, knowing what he did about the Weasleys. "Ginny," he began carefully, "maybe you should take some time, before you say anything to your family."

She snorted. "Yeah," she said with bitterness tainting her voice. "Mum's not likely to be too happy about it, is she?"

Lupin's eyes widened, again caught off-guard by the girl's astuteness.

"Not that she's a bad person, mind," Ginny backtracked slightly, seeming to remember that she was talking to a good friend of her parents, after all, and possibly shouldn't denigrate them outright. "She's just so traditional! She's already talking about finding me a husband, and all the wonderful kids I'm going to have, etc etc." She rolled her eyes.

Lupin just looked at her sympathetically, letting her talk.

But she paused and looked up at him suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "What do you know about Charlie?" she demanded.

Oh.

Lupin fought to keep his face neutral, momentarily marvelling at how Hermione could be so clever with books and learning and so clueless in the wider world, while Ginny, while certainly holding her own in the classroom, had truly enviable powers of observation and insight into the world around her. "Charlie?" he asked innocently.

Ginny appraised him. "Mm-hmm." She nodded. "I knew it. You know something. What is it? I heard Fred and George talking once, about Charlie going away so that Mum couldn't bother him anymore about getting married."

Lupin was silent.

"He's gay, isn't he," Ginny said, not bothering to lift her voice into a question. "And he had to move to Romania to get some peace from Mum? Oh no..." She shook her head sadly and stared into space.

Lupin swallowed and looked at her. "Ginny, it's not my place to interfere in your family's business," he began.

"But," she interrupted, "you do know about it, right?"

He nodded in resignation. "He didn't run away, Ginny," he said quietly. "And your mother didn't drive him away, all right? So don't think that."

"Then what happened?" she whispered.

"He liked dragons." Lupin sighed. "And there was a place in Romania, sort of a commune, I suppose. A very... free place, you might say." He paused and glanced sideways at her. "I spent some time there myself, in my twenties," he confessed, as Ginny's eyes widened. "Not with the dragons, mind - those creatures can spot a werewolf a mile away, and won't hesitate to rip him to shreds. No, I worked with some of the less dangerous creatures, did some tutoring, odd jobs..."

His eyes misted over as the memories floated to the forefront of his mind. They weren't unhappy memories, but they were ones he didn't often revisit, for the simple reason that they always evoked more memories, other memories, of what had driven him away from Britain in the first place... that night in October of 1981...

"Anyway," he continued, noticing that Ginny was watching him in fascination. "Your father and I have been very good friends for a long time, as you know, and... well, he wrote to me about Charlie. Said he was going through a tough time, that he was unsure about... things."

Ginny smiled sadly and nodded.

"We corresponded a bit," Lupin continued, lost in his thoughts now, "and I put him in touch with some friends of mine there. They were good people - people who had all sorts of ideas about freedom and liberty and the right to one's own choices..." He chuckled. "I thought Charlie might like them, and it turned out that I was right. They had a lot in common, you might say, and he decided he would be happier there. As far as I know," Lupin concluded, "he has been."

"Dad wouldn't have cared, though, would he?" she asked hopefully.

"No," replied Lupin, recalling his conversation with Arthur the night before. "He didn't care. He will always love all his children, you know, and so will your mother," he stressed. "So don't go assuming terrible things about her, all right?"

Ginny grimaced and looked away.

"Ginny," warned Lupin. "Please. Promise me you won't judge your mother until you've spoken to her. This is all very new for you, remember. You shouldn't go making decisions and assumptions about people's reactions yet, all right?" He sought her eyes desperately.

"All right, Remus," she replied slowly. "I promise."

He smiled. "Good. Now, what say we go join the others, hmm?"

"Yeah," she agreed, rising from her chair. "I suppose I should go find Luna before Ron asks her out again."

Lupin snorted, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as they walked to the door.

"And I haven't talked to another brother of mine in quite some time," she continued thoughtfully. "It might be time to send him an owl."

"You didn't hear it from me," Lupin groaned. "I try not to make a habit of running around the Wizarding community outing my friends."

She giggled. "So my secret is safe with you?" she asked playfully, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Do you even need to ask that?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Of course it is, Ginny. I told you - it's up to you to decide who you feel comfortable talking to about this."

She nodded as she opened the door. "Remus?" she said, turning to look at him. "Thank you."

*********************************************

Hermione thanked the gods that Dumbledore had allowed her to begin her Apparition training over the summer, much earlier than her classmates, as she appeared with a pop at the gates of Hogwarts later that morning. If there had ever been a travel emergency, this was it. She still had no idea what to say to Professor Snape, and it was more than likely that not only was she about to make a grand fool of herself, but she was most certainly about to forfeit her chances of passing her Potions NEWT.

But she had started this mess, so the least she could do was help Remus get out of it.

She crossed the grounds quickly and pulled open the great front doors, wondering in passing that they never seemed to be locked, even on holidays, but she shook the thought from her head and strode towards Snape's office. When she got there, she knocked timidly on the door.

To her surprise, she immediately heard footsteps approaching and the door flung open -

"Lupin, for fuck's sake, I told you I didn't want to talk to - "

He stopped dead when he saw Hermione and rapidly composed himself. "Ah, Ms. Granger," he sneered. "I, ah, was not expecting you."

"I'm sorry to disturb you on Christmas Day, Professor," she began, "but I really must speak with you. May I come in?"

He folded his arms and attempted to stare her down with his most intimidating glare, blocking her entrance to the room. "Ms. Granger, if this concerns your letter and gift, then Lupin has already explained the misunderstanding to me, so we thankfully do not need to have any uncomfortable chats about why I am not advisable dating material for you. Good day." He moved to close the door.

"Professor, wait!" she insisted, stepping forward. "I'm glad that's been cleared up, and I do sincerely apologise for the mistake - I certainly never intended to place you in such a... compromising position."

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Fine, Ms. Granger, see that it doesn't happen again. Good day."

"But there's something else you should know," she rushed on, afraid he would try to close the door again.

"Ms. Granger, it has been a trying few days," he snapped. "Whatever it is can wait until the new term begins." He whirled around and retreated back inside his office, reaching to close the door.

"No, sir," she said boldly, darting an arm out to hold the door open, "it can't. You need to know what Remus said to me in the dark last night, when he thought he was talking to you."

Snape stopped in his tracks. "And why, Ms. Granger," he hissed, not turning to face her, "would you jump to the absurd conclusion that he thought he was talking to me?" His voice was like shards of ice cutting through her, and she almost retreated in abject fear.

"Please, sir," she begged, summoning all her courage. "He- he said he knows you think it's just about sex, what you have - "

Snape whirled around, his eyes blazing, but Hermione plunged on.

"But that for him, it's not. I mean, it is, and it's incredible, but it's also more than that." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "He loves you, sir, that's what he told me. He said that you two had never talked about that before, but that he didn't care if he scared you away - he had to let you know how much you mean to him."

Snape was breathing rapidly, his nostrils flaring, his cheeks flushed, as Hermione gathered her cloak around her and prepared to bolt down the hall.

"He said he thinks he's been in love with you his whole life."

She saw Snape's face twitch, but he said nothing.

"And then he took his jumper off and said he was going to show me - er, you - exactly how he felt, and I thought he'd really been talking to me so I kissed him, and then of course he realised it wasn't you, and he jumped so far across the room you'd have thought I'd poured scalding water on him, and he started yelling at me, and I started to cry, and then he felt bad and was trying to comfort me, and... " She sighed. "That's when you and Harry and Ron came in."

She stood staring at him for a moment, stilling her breathing, as Snape remained frozen in front of her.

"Anyway, um, I'm sorry, Professor, I'm so sorry. I never meant to cause trouble for the two of you, I just didn't know, I was stupid... and anyway, um. He loves you. I just thought that you should know that. In case you didn't."

Her cheeks bright red, Hermione dashed away down the corridor, not daring to look back.

Behind her, Snape made no sound, but she heard the click of the lock as the office door closed again.

To be concluded...