Chapter Text
On the 9th of January, Hermione is a ball of nerves and a whirlwind of excitement.
She already left Hogwarts to oversee the party preparations at Grimmauld Place and to make sure everything is okay with her gift to Severus. When she sees the gift for the first time in the library of Grimmauld Place, Hermione falls in love with it, captured by its beauty. She only saw pictures of it in the catalogue before. She is now more sure than ever that this is the perfect gift for him.
“So Operation Locked in the Library is on no matter the circumstances, I guess?” Harry asks, coming up behind Hermione and looking around the library.
“Yes, I’ll have to take him here to show him his gift.”
Harry looks thoughtful. “Everything for the party is ready.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione says, reaching for and squeezing his hand in gratitude.
“How are you planning on convincing him to come here? I doubt he’d come willingly.”
A mischievous glint brightens Hermione’s eyes. “Minerva and Pomona have it covered. He’ll be here.”
Harry gives her an unsure smile, and Hermione tries to stay courageous.
People start to fill into Grimmauld Place, and Hermione is happy to see so many of her friends at once. Catching up with people one by one takes her mind off of the anticipation of Severus’s arrival. She is talking to Luna when the fireplace in the room flares up, and Minerva steps out, followed by Severus.
“Happy Birthday, Severus!” everyone choruses when he enters the room.
He looks up, startled. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, glaring at everyone suspiciously.
“It’s your birthday, Severus!” Hermione says—rather unnecessarily— and approaches him. She gestures to everyone to return to whatever they were doing before, feeling the upcoming temper tantrum, and chatter starts filling the room again. “We’re all here to celebrate it.”
Severus looks very annoyed and ready to bolt at any moment. “Why would you want to celebrate such an unfortunate event?”
“There is nothing unfortunate about your birth.” She places a hand on his arm and is happy when he doesn’t pull back.
Severus turns his accusing eyes to Minerva. “You lured me into this trap under a false sense of security.”
Minerva rolls her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, lad.”
“No—”
His words are cut off by Kingsley approaching them and clapping Severus on the back. “Happy forty-fifth, man!” Then he beams and pulls Severus into a conversation with Arthur before Severus can protest.
Thinking the crisis averted, Hermione returns to catching up with people and bids her time until she can get an opportunity to talk to Severus.
Severus, it seems, has gotten better at avoiding her as Hermione, hours into the party, still hasn’t got a chance to talk to him. Whenever she sees him available, he swiftly moves on to talk to someone else. Hermione has to applaud his dedication as she has never seen him talk to this many people of his own free will before.
“The transfers this season aren’t very good,” says Viktor, telling her about his unhappiness with his current team. Her eyes linger on Severus’s back despite talking to Viktor. “I may finally accept Harpies’ offer next season.”
“I’m sure Ron will be thrilled to have you here all the time,” Hermione says, finally looking at the Bulgarian. “He misses you alot when you’re away.”
Viktor’s face lights up with love. “I miss him too.” He then pulls Hermione into a hug. “And I miss you too, Mimi.”
Feeling happy that she has a steady friend like Viktor, Hermione returns the embrace. Their hug, however, is interrupted by a cold voice.
“How lovely,” Severus drawls somewhere behind her. Hermione pulls back and turns to Severus. He looks down his nose at them, expression filled with so much disdain that Hermione recoils. “Old flames flaring up, I see. Of course, I should have guessed that your behaviour in the past weeks was nothing but a whim—”
“Severus!” Hermione interjects, appalled by his accusation. “How can you say that? Have you not known me at all?”
“Is it wrong? What am I supposed to think? Seeing you wrapped around your ex after weeks of you trying to pursue me?” he snarls.
Hermione tries to stay calm. Though his treatment of her isn’t excusable, she is ready to give him a break—she’s been pushing boundaries with him for a while.
“There you are!” comes a cheery voice, and Ron approaches them, grinning from ear to ear. Unaware of the tension, the redhead pulls Viktor into a heated kiss. “I’ve been looking for you, love,” he murmurs into his boyfriend’s mouth.
Seeing Severus’s mortified expression at display and the way he went deep red in the face is priceless and lightens Hermione’s mood in an instant.
“Love?” Severus whispers.
Without letting go of Viktor, Ron turns towards Severus. “Yeah. Didn’t you know we were together?”
Severus opens his mouth and closes it again without any word coming out. Then, turning on his heel, he strides away.
Ron grimaces. “Was he having a jealous fit?” he asks, correctly reading the situation.
“There is hope, yet.” Hermione beams.
When the night draws to an end, Hermione starts to grow restless. Thinking her last hope is slipping through her fingers, her eyes find Harry’s, and she gives him the sign to start Operation Stuck Under Enchanted Mistletoe. He grins in response and disappears behind a door, presumably to bring the mistletoe somewhere closer.
A few minutes later, Harry comes back, looking smug, and no mistletoe in sight. His face falls as soon as he sees Hermione. “What the hell, Hermione?” he whispers. “Why are you still here?”
“Where am I supposed to be?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Where did you put the mistletoe?”
“You wanted Operation Stuck Under Enchanted Mistletoe first?” He looks confused. “I thought you meant me to start Operation Locked in the Library first. I just locked Severus in the library!”
Hermione gasps. “He is already there?” Then she rushes up the stairs to the library, not wanting Severus to see her gift for him yet.
“I arranged the wards to allow you in,” Harry yells behind her back.
She is breathless when she opens the library doors and exclaims, “Severus!”
His head snaps up to her, his hand trailing on his gift. Too late. Her emotions must have shown on her face because understanding settles into his features. “Is this yours?” he asks hoarsely, gesturing to the instrument next to her.
Hermione grimaces “Sort of.”
“Please tell me you didn’t buy this for me?” A tumult of emotions flashes in his face. His hand stills.
“It’s for you,” Hermione whispers. She barely hears herself with the loud beatings of her heart.
Swallowing visibly, he takes a hurried step back from the gift. “I can’t accept this.”
“Why not?”
He frowns. “This is too much. I know how much these costs.”
Hermione licks her lips nervously. “It’s a hand-me-down, if you’re worried about the cost.”
“Hermione,” he breathes exasperatedly. “You can’t gift me a bloody piano!”
“Again, why not?” She challenges. “I know how much you've wanted one since you were a child.”
She vividly remembers the conversation they had about his mother’s piano.
“When she ran away from the Princes, Mum managed to take her beautiful piano with her,” he told her one day, talking about their childhoods before bed. “She grew up with it and couldn’t leave it behind. So she took it when she ran away. But Dad hated it with passion. Tried to break it once. But Mum managed to hide it in the attic under heavy charms. When he was not home, Mum used to teach me how to play. I loved every moment of it. My best memories from home.” He paused, his face morphing into a pained expression. “Mum’s magic has weakened over time—from not using it. One day, the spells on the piano lifted because her magic wasn’t strong enough to keep it. That same day, Dad saw the piano and destroyed it in his drunken rage. Also destroying one escape I found in that terrible life.”
It’s one of the most heartbreaking childhood memories Severus told Hermione about. The way he spoke about his beloved piano and the times spent with his mum never left Hermione all these years. Buying him a Steinway upright piano— just like the one he had— has always been at the back of her mind. So when she found a hand-me-down in very good condition, she bought it for him without hesitation.
“Hermione, you can’t keep doing this.” He looks so conflicted.
“I want you happy, Severus,” she replies. “And I want you to be happy with me .” Steeling herself for the moment, she confesses, “I love you, Severus. I love you more than words can express, and as much as we needed time apart, the last three years have been agonising.”
“Why are you torturing me like this?” he demands suddenly, surprising Hermione.
“Torture?” Hermione asks, taken aback. “How is me loving you a torture?”
“You know we can’t be together,” he states as it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why ever not?”
He ignores her question. “You shouldn’t have returned here.”
Her stomach sinks. Does he really not want her here? Does he hate her?
“Not for me,” he continues, shoulders slumped, eyes cast down . “I’m not worth it.”
Hermione’s heart constricts in her chest. “You’re more than worth it.”
“You should have taken one of the offers you received,” he sighs. “I can’t be the reason you miss out on amazing opportunities.
“That you said,” she replies bitterly, remembering his break-up speech.
His jaw is set in determination. “I refuse to stand in the way between you and your career—your life.”
Hermione slowly reaches a hand towards him. “You aren’t standing in the way of anything.”
“I–” His face contorts in agitation. After a few seconds, something resolves in his expression. “You know the conditions I’ve grown up in.”
There were many late-night discussions when they particularly needed to open up about their lives, pasts and traumas, and Severus told Hermione about his home life.
He continues when Hermione nods. “I never told you why mum accepted such treatment from my dad—why did she never leave.”
Hermione’s eyes widen. She asked him about it many times, but he always brushed her off about this particular subject.
“She didn’t think there was any other choice for her.” He looks directly into Hermione’s eyes, pulling her into his darkness. “She wanted to become a Potions Mistress when she graduated Hogwarts. Her parents didn’t let her. They made a marriage contract with an old pureblood who was known to be violent. So, Mum ran away. It wasn't long before she found my dad, married him, and got pregnant with me. My dad was a waste of human space who never let her have any jobs—any independence. He never let her use magic either. She’d run from one abusive house, only to find herself in another but with tighter shackles this time. She was forced to take all that abuse because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. I absolutely refuse to be like my father—or my grandparents, for that matter.”
Hermione’s heart breaks for him and the tragedy that is his life. Teary-eyed, she raises a hand to cup his cheek. “Severus.” She swallows heavily. “You’d never be like your father, or your grandparents,” she tries to assure. “I understand your fears. However, your mother’s and our situations are completely different. I’m not forced to be with you. I choose to be with you, and I know you’d never hold me back from life.”
“But I’m already holding you back,” he counteracts stubbornly. “You turned down great offers to come back here.
“Severus, I have great offers here too. Not like I abandoned my education and completely discarded all my opportunities to be with you. Among all of the offers I’ve received, the ones in Britain have the added bonus of being close to you.” He still doesn’t look convinced, so she tries again. “We’ll go through all the offers I’ve received, so you can see for yourself.”
Finally, his stubbornness seems to be resolving slowly. “You really aren’t turning down something you really want to be with me?”
“No, I don’t. Please stop worrying.”
“Hermione—”
“Please don’t fight this,” she interjects fiercely. “Don’t fight us. You know we’re right for each other.”
The last of his resolve shutters as he slowly lifts his hands and cups Hermione’s cheeks. “You’ll be the death of me, witch,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead to hers. “But I find it nearly impossible to resist you.”
Hermione breathes his scent in and basks in the bliss of being this close to him. Her whole body quivers in the feeling. Reaching for his lips ever so slowly, she pulls Severus into a passionate kiss. Time seems to pause, and the world around her melts away as their lips move against each other in a yearning embrace. With the sweet agony of longing, Hermione drinks the intoxicating taste of Severus hungrily, unleashing her pent-up desire. Moving skilfully, Severus draws her closer, his warmth enveloping Hermione tighter as he continues to devour her.
When they pull back to breathe, both panting heavily, their eyes stay locked, gazing into each other’s souls. “Happy Birthday, my love.”
When they can disentangle themselves from each other, they return to the party. Deciding to keep their reunion to themselves for a while to avoid public scrutiny while they rediscover each other, they walk back to the party room apart from each other. Hermione tries to keep her face neutral to not give away her absolute joy and giddiness. Severus, on the other hand, opts to revert back to his usual grumpy and forbidding self, glaring at everyone. If Hermione didn’t know, she’d believe him to be in a very foul mood.
Her steps falter, however, when she sees Severus coming to an abrupt halt. It takes her only a second before she sees the enchanted mistletoe hanging above him, accompanied by a smirking Harry hovering behind. “Oh, an enchanted mistletoe. How did it ever get here?” Harry says cheekily and pushes Hermione under it too.
Hermione waits for Severus to get enraged and start blasting the mistletoe. To her astonishment, he chuckles darkly before pulling Hermione into another all-consuming kiss in front of everyone. They don’t even realise when the enchantment of the mistletoe ends.
“Happy Birthday to me, indeed.”