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The Snape girl skipped out of the doorway of Ravenclaw tower and took her father's hand. She beamed up at him and he returned it with a small smile. It warmed my heart to see him happy. She saw me and offered me a quieter smile, though I was happy to see it all the same. "Ready to go, Wavy?" He asked, eyeing her backpack.

She scrunched her face. "Why do you call me that, it's dumb."

The Potions' Master chuckled at her dislike of the nickname. "Because that's what your sister calls you and I find it hysterical."

I rolled my eyes at him and turned to the teen. "Later on, when she's older, you can start calling her Mavy. It'll even things out."

She giggled, pulling her father by the hand down the stairs. "I hope you don't mind Miss Granger joining us today. She hasn't anyone to spend Christmas with."

The girl gasped. "Christmas can't be spent alone! Papa can she please join us for supper tonight?" She pleaded. He pretended to think about it for a moment. "Please, please, please, she's my favourite teacher. She can't spend Christmas by herself."

He ruffled her hair and jerked his head to me. "Isn't my decision, bookworm, ask her yourself." The tone he used with her was so loving, so gentle. Even as he teased her with the nickname.

Waverly's smile spread, she let go of her father's hand and skipped around him to join me. She held my hand tightly in her own. My heart fluttered at the gesture. The girl was so kind. "Please come have supper with us at papa's house. Please, Miss Granger."

I curled my finger's into Snape's sleeve. "If you don't mind," I started. The girl whooped and ran further down the hill, throwing her arms up in the air. "I really would appreciate it, sir."

He dipped his head in response, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "She's right. You can't spend tonight by yourself. Waverly is more than willing to have you over, as you can plainly see." He chuckled. "This year is special for her. It's our first Christmas together since she was little. Ella allowed it if she stayed at school for the duration of the Holidays. I just got her owl this morning, at breakfast, actually."

I stepped closer, craving his warmth, his touch. "Do you mind at all? I don't want to impose my presence."

He shook his head, stopping me from walking any further. He looked deeply into my eyes, something flickering in his. "If it really bothered me, don't you think I would have said something? You of all people know that I am very open about my opinion in regards to people I don't get on with."

"I'm not one of those people?" I asked quietly, fearful of his answer.

He sighed. "If you were, I wouldn't have been snogging you all morning." He smirked at my flushed face and turned his attention to his daughter who had reached the school's gates. "Don't step outside the wards until I reach you, Waverly. It could be dangerous." He called out.

He sped up his steps, I tried-failed, but tried-to keep up with his extremely long legs at a decent pace. He was still anxious about the fanatics roaming about, starting hate fires and destroying monuments. People who still believed Voldemort to be their lord and saviour. It was disgusting, really. Though, I couldn't blame him for being worried about his daughter. When we reached her, she grabbed onto my hand and we made our way down the street.

She hopped up and down as we passed Zonko's, Honeydukes, Dervish and Banges, Gladrags Wizardwear, Madam Puddifoot's, the Three Broomsticks. "Papa, can we go into all of these shops?" He nodded, telling her could go anywhere she liked as long as someone was with her. "Could I visit the Shrieking Shack, then? I heard it's haunted."

The man's face went white, he swallowed thickly, trying to remember how to breathe. I cooed, standing before him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I lay my head on his chest, his heart beating erratically, his breathing ragged. He was frightened, I knew memories of that terrible May 2nd were flashing through his mind. I brushed his hair back from his face, trying to call his attention to me. He finally looked down at me, I offered him a small smile. "You're alright. You're here, alive, with us. There's no need to worry anymore." He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to get a hold of himself. "Go sit down in one of the pubs, I'll take her."

"You can't..." His voice was pained. "I'll lose you."

I shook my head. "I can and I will. It's just a shack. Empty. The only things in it are bad memories, we'll be fine."

I stepped away and took the young Ravenclaw's hand, leading her down the path to the little house that appeared to be falling apart. "Why can't papa come to see it?"

My heart caught in my throat. Did she know? "Well, something very bad happened during the Battle of Hogwarts. You're father almost died there. He doesn't like that place."

She squeezed my hand. "He okay now, though?" She asked, scared at the idea of her father dying before having the chance to spend another day with him.

I nodded. "Of course, he is." I comforted the poor girl as we kept walking towards it. I decided to share some history on the place, as well as the little secrets I'd learned from visiting the interior. "There is a tunnel leading from the Whomping Willow right into the house. It was used as a means of escape for a student who suffered from lycanthropy in your father's school years. That student had, later on, become a teacher and very dear friend of mine. His name was Remus Lupin. It was also the place Sirius Black hid while trying to find Harry Potter and Peter Pettigrew within Hogwarts' walls." I paused, letting it sink in. "The reason people say it's haunted is due to the fact that once a month, you could hear howling from within the shack. After the werewolf left the castle, there was no need for the building and it has stayed there as a relic ever since."

"Wow." She stepped beyond the little gate. "Can we go inside?"

I took a deep breath. I thought I could do this, but I really couldn't. Maybe in a decade or so, but it was too hard at the moment, the wound too fresh, being ripped open all over again. "I don't think that's a good idea. No one's cleaned the inside in years. There are broken floorboards, nails sticking from the ground, dust, probably some blood."

She turned to me wide-eyed. "Blood?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "You were there when papa almost died, weren't you."

It was more of a statement than an actual question, though she still looked up at me for confirmation. I nodded. "I tried to save him." My voice broke, my emotions getting the best of me.

The girl clung to me, trying to comfort me as tears rolled down her own face. "And look now! He's okay! You said it yourself, Miss Granger. You saved my papa."

I lay my hand on her head, stroking her dark curls. "My name is Hermione." she looked up, confused. I smiled, brushing her hair away from her face. "Outside of class, you can call me Hermione."

Her face split into a large smile and she tightened her arms around me. "Really? Oh, I'd love that! Don't worry, I won't abuse of it."

"I know."

She tugged me by the hand to the Three Broomsticks, where her father had said he'd be, holding a table for the three of us. We entered the pub laughing, brushing the fallen snow from our shoulders. In a secluded corner of the room, was where we found him. I felt a small smile creep up my face. It appeared we were similar in that sense, always reserving the same table. Curious.

Waverly ran over to her father, leading me to the table. She hopped into the seat next to him, leaving me to sit across from them. I lifted my gaze to meet his, his eyes were so very worried. "Tell your father what you learnt today." I said gently, prodding the teen.

He raised an infamous eyebrow, turning his attention to his daughter, but not before eyeing me carefully, ensuring I was perfectly fine. The girl smiled grandly and turned in her seat. "Hermione told me all sorts of things! She told me about the werewolf you went to school wife, and the whomping willow, and Sirius Black!"

He chuckled lightly. "Hermione, eh?" He asked, his voice coating the syllables of my name with that delicious darkness it held. I shuddered, cheeks flushing. Merlin, I must have looked like a silly school girl. He met my eyes, his clouding over slightly. It was enough to make a girl swoon like they did in those terrible Muggle romances.

My thoughts were interrupted by someone pulling me up by the arm. "What do you think you're doing here with him?"

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