One small edit that my editor didn't pick up and change last time, specifically relating to the kid's name (my editor changed it so that it didn't seem like I'd 'borrowed' another fanfic's character name).I'm not writing a sequel to this. I won't update it after this, either.

---

Severus snorted at the tree when I transfigured it three weeks ago. I was so excited. You can't get aluminium artificial Christmas trees in Britain, not with Muggles now living in a second Dark Ages. I had to do the work myself.

I created all the decorations for the tree, too. The stretchy red-foil garlands I always used to string around the tree at home; the tiny blinking lights in yellow and red and blue and green; the delicate glass balls in metallic colours; the fat angel looking down from the top. I even included a very special charm to sing Feliz Navidad a la Boney M whenever Severus scowled my way.

"The daffodils have blossomed in the garden," Severus says. "I should bring a few in."

"And ruin the illusion of winter, you spoilsport?" I throw a bit of garland at him. "Christmas-in-March doesn't have daffodils. It has turkey, egg nog, candy canes and cranberry jelly. Mmm, I can't wait to eat..."

"I don't care what you say, Hermione, not every Muggle must eat that jelly in the shape of a can. It's repulsive to swallow something transfigured into a jiggling cylinder," he says. "And I still think the traditional Wizarding wassail and goose is quite..."

"Bleurgh, oily goose, and when you make wassail, there's very little in the way of apples and cinnamon and quite a lot in the ways of ale. Your wassail always tastes like it could kill a donkey."

He glowers, but there's no vitriol to it. "I wonder if Loki has finished... I'll be back in a few minutes, you sit there and enjoy your vile egg concoction. How unappealing, not even a drop of liquor in it this year. I don't know why you bothered."

I stretch out over the the chaise longue and look over the sitting room - strange to think I once used it as a bedroom. Cream drapes hang over the windows. A Muggle CD player sings an aria from Turandot. I've charmed the windows to look like they're stencilled with winter frost. The open window detracts a bit from my fantasy - I can hear songbirds outside and the air smells like new grass.

I yawn and shut my eyes, waiting for Severus to return. Muggle Christmas is always lovely. A day just for me. A day where all Muggleness is not only acceptable, but welcome. I think, somewhere along the line, it became more to Severus than just something to keep me happy, and he started to enjoy it as well.

A small mountain of gifts sit beneath the tree. No magical gifts - those we save for December.

A cracking sound interrupts my reverie. I open my eyes, expecting to see Loki or Severus.

It's neither. It's the sound of the window wards falling. A square fingered hand reaches over the sill. I stare for a moment, ready to scream for Severus, until I recognize the red hair. Two heads of red hair. They crawl through the open window.

"Ginny? Ron?" My voice is a whisper.

"Hermione?" Ginny asks. "Look at you. What's going on?"

My mind's blank.

"It's Muggle Christmas," I reply automatically. "Or rather, the day I celebrate Christmas as a Muggle."

"Well. I suppose this'll be a great Christmas present," Ron says distractedly. "Let's go."

He has a scar down the middle of his chin, deep and pink. His arms and shoulders look bulky and muscled even beneath his thick shell suit. Ginny stares at me with a horrified expression. No, not at me - at the shell combs lifting up my hair, at the bracelet round my wrist, and the sapphire on my finger.

"Let's go?" I ask.

"We're here to rescue you," Ron says. "Hurry, we haven't much time before Snape discovers McGonagall's lowered his Eastern wards. We have a couple brooms, we'll walk to shore, fly past the maritime border charms, then use our portkeys to get to America. From there we can get you to a safehouse."

He looks exhausted. They're both covered in dirt and twigs, and I bet they've hiked all the way from the ocean. Ron takes a swig of water, pops a chocolate frog into his mouth, and tosses aside the wrapper. Ginny tries to catch her breath.

"Safehouse?" I sink back into the sofa and think - they're finally here to rescue me.

They're too late.

"Yes, we're leaving, now."

"I can't leave, Ron."

He sighs deeply, then wipes his brow with his sleeve. When he looks at me, his blue eyes are filled with pity. Blue eyes - how did I not realize earlier that it was his blackened face at the window? He'd tried to save me before. What would I have done then? My life would've turned out far, far differently...

"I know you're scared, Hermione, and you think that Snape's not so bad," Ron cajoles. "It's called Stockholm Syndrome. Just remember - I'm your friend. Ginny's your friend. We love you, and we'll keep you safe..."

Severus loves me, and he's kept me safe for years now. I couldn't leave him. Now especially.

"I've been here three and a half years, Ron," I say. "This is my home."

"You can have a home with us, Hermione." He smiles at me, like a veterinarian looking on an abused puppy. "We can be together again. We can fight the Dark Lord. Punish him for what he did to you."

"Ron, there are things you don't understand - you have to go, before Severus gets here."

"Severus?" Ginny asks. "Severus now, is it?"

My face flushes. Shame, but only for my own earlier hypocrisy. How could I have once thought that every choice was black, white, right, wrong? Would she have looked at me with such loathing if she'd stayed with Draco?

"Because you're in love with him? What happens when he finds some Pureblooded witch to marry, Hermione? Tell me," Ginny says, mocking my own words.

I shake my head again. "I may love him, but that's not why I'm staying."

Heavy footsteps plod down the corridor. I hear the echo of voices through the walls.

"Today is Muggle Christmas, which means Muggle pants and shirts. Yes, I know Loki's confused by Muggle clothing. No, cats can't wear shirts, what sort of question is that? Oh, good Lord, don't tell me... Hermione, there is a tee-shirt now spontaneously transfigured around your familiar, though at least we can be assured that she is not a squib..."

I freeze. The door bursts open. Severus walks in. Anna toddles behind him - she walks slowly, steps still a bit unsure even though she's twenty two months now. She's sleepy after spending half the night bothering me, asking why Father Christmas made a special second stop at our house.

All I wanted was some sleep by the third time she awoke - two in the morning.

"Weasley! Both Weasleys," Severus hisses. "Hermione..."

"They just appeared at the window, Severus."

He clutches Anna to his side. Ron and Ginny can't mistake her for a combination of anyone but Severus and I. Luckily she was spared that nose, but she has that oily black hair, that over-pale skin, my big front teeth and flat brown eyes. I once found those traits unappealing.

"Ouch," Anna yelps at her father. "Too tight!"

Severus looks guiltily at her, relaxing his grip, but still holding her against him. His other hand clutches his wand.

"Because you're fucking him, Hermione?" Ginny asks snidely.

"You..." Severus's lip curls, and he lifts his wand.

Ginny and Ron blench.

"Severus, no."

I reach out, lower his wand.

"Hermione, if you don't come with us now, you'll not have another chance," Ron says quietly.

I look over at Anna. Impossible. I couldn't ever, ever leave her. I look over at Severus. He looks terrified. Terrified of me running away and leaving him alone again. He would never admit it, but I've become his closest friend, confidante. His only friend.

Does Ron even consider that I have friends here? Life goes on no matter who is running a country. People still make friends. On Tuesdays I visit Madam Pince, who runs a bookshop in Hogsmeade; every few days I floo into Swansea to see Millicent Bulstrode - she's now looked upon with suspicion, since she cared for Dean Thomas and eventually wed him.

A mixed marriage. I know only two that have happened since the Dark Lord's ascension.

"Everyone wants you back. Don't you see? You have so many friends waiting for you," Ron says. "You aren't to blame for what Snape did to you."

I'm not a victim. My eyes flicker to Anna. Down to my belly. Another eight months, perhaps. Not even Severus knows. How would I ever manage, a wanted woman, pregnant, and later, a single mother? How could I ever live knowing I'd abandoned my daughter?

"You can bring her with us," Ginny whispers, as if reading my thoughts.

Severus left behind? It would kill him. I run the household, keep the finances in order, make sure his laundry's clean and he gets cooked meals. I'm the only one he confides in, the one whom he plays with. He's always been more devoted to me than I am to him, but now that I have the opportunity, a life without him seems unpalatable.

My cat runs by the door - my first Muggle Christmas gift from Severus to me. I think Severus knew to get me a cat as different from Crooks as possible. She's skinny, smooth haired, and black as a crow. And now she's wearing an awkwardly resized pink shirt I got for Anna. My child's first spontanous display of magic, it seems.

"Pretty cat!" Anna squawks, wriggling in Severus's arms.

"You will not be taking my daughter as well," Severus coldly tells both Weasleys. "Hermione has been free to do as she pleases for three years. I cannot stop her, but I will not allow you to take my entire family from me."

"Your family?" Ginny scoffs. "She didn't have much choice, considering you locked her up here and basically forced yourself upon her. Oh, yes, Snape, I know why you felt so guilty! He's twisted your mind, Hermione."

Has he? Is that why there's a Muggle Christmas tree in the corner, a CD player on the table, why he left the room painted turquoise after I changed it all in a fit of pique? He's not perfect - I know that better than anyone - but I've come to think that we're equally prisoners, Severus and I. Perhaps him moreso, since his is a prison of his own creation.

"Hermione, he's already said he won't stop you. It can be the three of us again - Harry's waiting for us back in..."

I have to interrupt Ron, before he says something I know Severus'll be obligated to tell Voldemort.

"I won't break my vows, Ron." I offer Ginny a wan smile. "We were wed two years ago. I wish you could've seen it. We had to go to Ireland, since nobody would perform it here..."

"Come with us," Ron says again, sounding desperate.

"Hermione." Severus drops his head so I can't see his face. "Stay here with us. You would not make me beg, would you?"

I cross the room and move to Severus's side. Anna looks frightened, and Severus strokes her hair, presses a kiss to her cheek to try and still her darting eyes. Ron's eyes widen in shock, but Severus, nowadays, doesn't care. I slide my arm around his waist and caress his pointy rib bones through his linen shirt.

"I'm not leaving you." I turn to Ginny and Ron. "Go, now. We'll pretend we never saw you. Severus - we'll put the memories in your pensieve."

Ron opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand to silence him.

"Don't make this any harder than it is, Ron."

"We won't be able to come back." Ginny says. "Are you certain?"

I nod. "I'm happy, Ginny."

She looks sad, but resigned. Ron shakes his head and gives me one last pitying look before crawling out the window. He'll probably always think me an abused woman. Ginny knows. Despite her anger, she was once in love with Draco. Draco once loved her, too.

She offers Severus a bitter smile and takes one last look at Anna.

"I would've liked to know her." She smiles sadly. "Good-bye, Hermione. Snape."

"Good-bye, Ginny," I whisper.

"Good-bye, Miss Weasley." As an afterthought, he adds. "Good luck."

She looks startled, but her brother shuts the window before she can speak. They drop down, and are gone. Severus watches me as I lift my wand and reset wards around the window. The chance to rekindle my former life has passed.

"Who's that?" Anna asks.

Severus speaks when I don't answer. "Nobody you need to worry about, Anna. Now is time for gifts."

She dives in with innocent enthusiasm.

I'm sad, but not sad that I stayed. I sit on the couch, distracted, trying to pay attention to Anna as she tears shimmery paper and ribbons off boxes. I know what's inside, of course - Muggle candy, a CD player for her room, and a dozen books. She'll be excited. Severus settles next to me to watch her crawling about under the tree.

"Look, Mummy, a cat!"

She holds up a stuffed toy that makes a purring noise when she squeezes it. Severus's contribution, not mine. It's black, like my familiar. Severus has a knack for finding Muggle things Anna will find appealing. He has access to the stores of confiscated goods.

I try to forget that Muggles and Muggleborns aren't allowed electronics anymore. Even the cat - with its mechanical meow - is forbidden. But not to my daughter, who, despite her heritage, is the single exception, and lives a life of oblivious luxury. I wonder if this is how Marie Antoinette felt.

I notice her playing with some raffia and my inner monologue vanishes.

"Oh, Severus, take the ribbon. She might choke."

He manages to tug the length from Anna's tight grip without a tantrum or tears. She sits under the tree in her pink pants and shirt, grinning and squeezing her new possessions against her chest.

"Make cat a sweater with your wand," she orders. "Pink!"

"Later, Anna," Severus mumbles. "Your mother's tired."

Hmm, he didn't seem that worried last night, when I was the one repeatedly awakened with questions like When's Father Christmas coming? Does he mind that he has to come in December too? Why doesn't Father Christmas come twice for anyone else? Are the Christmas-elves like Loki? Would Father Christmas be very angry if er... someone made a mistake and ate his biscuits?

Severus thought it quite amusing at the time. I didn't, especially when he muttered some excuse about maternal sweetness being the childhood panacea. Bollocks, and I didn't hesitate to tell him so after Julia fell asleep.

"I'm sleepy." Anna makes a discontented mewling noise.

"It's time for your nap. You didn't sleep last night." I yawn. "I didn't sleep much, either."

"But the turkey and pie..." Anna protests, pawing at her eyes.

"Aren't for another six hours. Time for a nap, daughter," Severus says. "Hermione, I shall take her to her room."

I nod sleepily and stretch over the wide chaise. I'll only rest a minute.

---

I smile at the battered old Sorting Hat. The air smells of cloves, caramel and roast chicken. The Great Hall. At his usual place sits Severus, looking older, hair streaked ashen-gray, and with grotesque scars marring the left side of his face. Flitwick. Sinistra. Hagrid. Sprout. All older, all sitting at the High Table.

A new tapestry hangs from the wall. It shows a boy with glasses fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Gold thread at the bottom proclaims The Great Victory - 1998.

I'm off to the side, a spectator. I look to the Gryffindor table, hoping to spot Ginny, Harry or Ron, so I can ask what's going on, but I recognize nobody. A young boy looks startlingly like Lavender Brown at the Hufflepuff table; another at the Slytherin table reminds me of Millie Bulstrode; one girl at the Gryffindor tables has Weasley-red hair.

"Melanie Granger-Weasley," Professor McGonagall announces sharply.

I've always liked the name Melanie - a holdover, maybe, of my secret Spice Girls appreciation, a wholly Muggle name, out of place in the Magical world.

A girl with a swath of bushy hair, buck teeth and blue eyes - the eponymous Melanie - stands awkwardly at the front of the room. The hat barely touches her head before it shouts out her new house.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She beams and flounces off the stage, but I don't look at her. My eyes are drawn to Severus, old, haggard looking, sitting at the High Table. He stares wistfully at Melanie, then tears his eyes away and slumps forward, staring into his soup with a beaten expression. I move forward, step around the student tables, so I can give him a hug. He looks so hopeless.

When I reach out, my hand slips through his body. I gasp and step back in horror. He doesn't notice me. The other professors discuss the new school year around him, actively avoiding him. He's a pariah. He has no wedding ring. His skin is sallow. It looks like he hasn't bathed in days. He picks at his food instead of eating.

It's suddenly quiet. I look over my shoulder to the student tables. They're now empty. I look back at the High Table. The professors, eating their soup and sipping their coffee, fade slowly, Severus the last to vanish. His lost expression nearly makes me cry.

Professor Dumbledore is the only one still there, staring at me from a few feet away in his brightly-coloured robes.

"Miss Granger. Hermione." He smiles sadly. "Or shall I call you Madam Snape now that you're all grown up and with a child?"

"That's not my child." I tremble, desperate to know where Anna is. "Where's my daughter? Who's that girl?"

"Don't worry, my dear. Anna is sleeping safely in her bed, as you now know, surrounded by gifts and awaiting Muggle Christmas dinner."

"Then what's this?" I ask, looking around the Great Hall.

He sighs deeply.

"This is my mistake, Hermione. My plans for the future." He paces slowly until he's standing directly in front of Severus's place at the High Table. "Severus Snape. I found him unappealing - biased, cruel. I thought he deserved punishment. I had little sympathy for his situation."

"But... his past. He never had anyone."

"I know," he says. "I thought him the most expendable member of the Order. I did not hesitate to use him. I thought I had placed my pieces so carefully - you would survive, with Ronald and Harry. You would destroy Voldemort. Oh, I foresaw Severus's solitary future; I foresaw his mutilation at the hands of Lucius Malfoy. I thought it a just reward for his past misdeeds."

"Just reward?" I ask. "How could you be so cruel? Nobody deserves to be so alone."

"I am not proud to admit it, Hermione. I am human." He shakes his head. "He told me he loved you, but I scoffed at him. I thought it lust, a passing fancy that would fade with time. I thought he would use and discard you."

"He hasn't!" I scowl, furious at the old wizard. "He would never!"

"I know, Hermione. You managed to turn him into the man everyone else thought him incapable of being." He smiles. "Your daughter is charming."

I feel my cheeks suffuse with heat. I'm terribly proud of Anna. Demanding at times, perhaps. Manipulative when she wants something. Foul-tempered when she's angry, but kind, and generous, curious and precocious. Quiet and disinclined to outright declare what she wants, but noisy when she witnesses anything she deems unjust. A perfect combination, I think, but I must admit that I'm biased.

"I came here to apologize. I am the reason this entire... situation... happened. Your confinement. Severus's guilt. I will forever regret what I caused. I want you to know that you should feel no guilt."

"I don't regret Severus," I reply archly. "I don't regret anything."

"You feel guilty over the Muggle laws. So does Severus, though he wrote them so he could pacify the Dark Lord." Dumbledore reaches out to touch my chin. "He has done so much to keep you safe, my dear. He must love you desperately."

I blush.

He nods. "I want you to give him a message, as well - that I forgive him. Tell him there's no reason for guilt. Tell Severus that I beg his forgiveness, and that I care for him, even if I may not be alive to tell him so."

I feel my eyes grow wet, and I open my mouth to speak, but Dumbledore is fading away. He points to the tapestry on the wall as he goes.

"Remember that the date will change, but prophecy dictates that it must happen. I hope you haven't made the wrong choice." He nods with finality as he vanishes. "Good-bye, Madam Snape."

And then, I'm all alone in the Great Hall.

---

I wake suddenly, panicked, confused about where I am. It's nighttime, and it takes me a moment to make out the silver Christmas tree, the cat curled up in a nest of discarded wrapping paper next to a sleeping Loki, and Maria Callas's mournful soprano from the CD player. The fireplace is dark, and the room's cold. I'm shaking.

"You were having a nightmare," Severus whispers.

He settles next to me, pulls me into his lap, and wraps a blanket around my shoulders. I sniffle and press my face into his shoulder.

"I had a dream."

"I had figured that, Hermione." He snorts.

I hiccup and feel tears prickling my eyes. He's instantly regretful of his flippancy, and squeezes me tightly.

"Forgive me," he says simply. "Continue."

"I thought it was a memory at first, but it was just a nightmare."

"Tell me about it, Hermione. The Weasleys' visit must have... made you think."

I nibble at a biscuit and sip some cold cocoa. As I chew, he points his wand into the corner and sets a fire crackling in the hearth. I ignore his implication, that the arrival of Ron and Ginny would make me think, knowing that he omitted saying make me think about leaving, as I know he truly believes.

"I was at Hogwarts. I had a dream that I was at a Sorting Ceremony, and that my child was going up to the Sorting Hat..."

"Anna?"

"No." I sigh. "A daughter with Ron Weasley."

His lip curls.

"I was horrified," I say. "And you looked so sad when you saw her. It was heartbreaking. You looked so alone, Severus, sitting at the High Table."

"I told you, Hermione, that I had no friends." He holds me tightly, burying his face in my hair. "Not until you made an effort with me."

"Everyone vanished, and it was just me and Dumbledore. He told me that it was his fault that I became your prisoner, that the Dark Lord came to power... because he didn't believe that you truly loved me, that you were just lusting after me."

He shifts uncomfortably.

"Severus?"

"I told him," he begins awkwardly. "I told him that I wished to pursue you. That if you were old enough to belong to the Order, then you were old enough to decide who deserved your affections, teacher or no. Not that I had any idea how I would go about it, considering your youth and beauty..."

I blush - how can he still elicit such reactions from me, even after we've known each other so long?

"He told me not to mar your future with my selfish desires, and that lust passes. He told me that Weasley truly cared for you, and that if I truly cared for you, I would push you in his direction, so my dark inclinations would not spread to you."

I let my eyes shut. My poor professor. Not even Dumbledore truly trusted him.

I keep describing my dream.

"Then... then he told me that he forgave you, and he begged for your forgiveness. He said you must be devoted to me, and said Anna was charming." I smile. "Then he pointed to a tapestry of Harry killing the Dark Lord and said that the prophecy had to be fulfilled. That's when you woke me up."

Severus rubs his day-old beard stubble and nods thoughtfully, not unlike Dumbledore himself.

"Do you think he was trying to give us a message? Do you think we're going to be killed in the final battle, or maybe that..."

"Hermione, it was just a dream. Albus is dead," he interrupts. "Even if it were more, he was powerful, but not omniscient. He was only human, as he often liked to remind me..."

I shift in his lap. Before, I had dreams that the Malfoys would get their just rewards, that we'd all be reunited in the Order to vanquish the Dark Lord in one glorious battle. It's been a long time since I entertained those fantasies.

"Who knows with whom we shall side with when the final battle inevitably comes?" He kisses my ear. "We have not shown ourselves hostile to the Order. I am now just a potions-maker who has tenuous ties with the Dark Lord. I'm a rather dull wizard, far from the centre of power, who wishes nothing more than to raise his family in peace. We might not have anything to do with the battle at all."

I smile at that. He crosses the room to fetch himself a glass of wine from the sideboard.

"Care for a drop?"

"No, thank you."

He looks puzzled, and looks downward to pour himself a glass.

He furrows his brow when he notices Ron's abandoned chocolate frog packet. The card is still inside. He slides it out and examines it, then crosses the room to hand it over to me.

"Look."

It's an empty chocolate frog card. No portrait, just an empty frame. The label on the bottom is printed in gold and violet ink. Albus Dumbledore.

"A strange coincidence?"

I shiver and, after considering it, throw the card into the fireplace. It fizzles and curls and finally crumbles into a pile of ash. I don't need anyone spying on me, on my dreams, on Anna and Severus and I. We are content as we are, without interference.

"Hermione! I could have checked the card for tracking spells, perhaps located some dream charms laced into the cardboard, and now you have destroyed it..."

"And destroyed the magic attached to it as well," I reply, knowing exactly how to distract him. "I told you I had a lovely Christmas surprise for you - no, besides me showing up dressed in that red and white teddy. That's tradition, not a present..."

"Mmm, I shall always treasure that particular piece of lingerie. The first time you sauntered into my bedroom, declaring your intentions in that blatant manner befitting only a true Gryffindor..."

He curls himself around me, sliding one hand up my spine, the other ensconced in my hair, and began pressing delicate kisses up my neck. He's only recently become comfortable enough to be like this, to make his intentions known, and not simply wait until I'm in the mood and proposition him.

I gently push him back with a giggle. "You're distracting me! I'm trying to tell you something important."

"Ah, yes, my gift."

I extricate his hand from where it's wandered to my breast, and slide it down, down, until it rests on my stomach. His face transmutes from lusty to confused and finally to that smug, pleased expression he got when I told him about my first pregnancy.

"One month along," I whisper in his ear.

He kisses me, hard, then sighs in my ear.

"I would like to say that, had I the chance to change the past, that I would do so, but I would not."

I stare at him, knowing it best to let him confess.

"I would certainly have been more attentive to you in the first months. I would certainly have tried to be kinder, and given you more of my time, more freedom, more gifts. But I would still have brought you here. I would still have allowed Hogwarts to fall. I still would have murdered Albus." He pauses. "You must think me horribly selfish."

I reach for his hand. "No. Horribly inept with the people you love. Woefully insecure."

He looks guiltily to the floor. Though it's rare nowadays, he still occasionally lapses into these fits of guilty melancholy, where he's inclined to drink and apologize profusely and lock himself away, insisting that it's better for everyone that way.

I hate it when he's like that. My dream, and Ron's appearance, and all these reminders of the past have left him unsettled. He needs a distraction.

"Come along, love. Let's wake the baby, have a little turkey and cranberry and lovely pie and - mmm - shortbread and gingerbread..."

He snorts. "You certainly sound pregnant."

"Just for that, you're giving Anna her bath tonight." I give his hand one last affectionate squeeze before dropping it. "Go, go on and wake her. After she's had her dinner, bath and bedtime story, I'll allow you to unwrap me."

He looks upon me affectionately.

"My Mistress, I shall comply with your command, as always." His voice drops, and he grows serious. "For you must know by now that it is I that is the prisoner, and am quite happy in my cage."

I open my mouth to speak, but he presses his finger to my lips before hurrying away to bring Anna to Christmas dinner.

Feeling warm and contented, I check the wards once more, bank down the fire, and scurry out the door, my footsteps echoing down the corridor as I run to catch up with Severus.

---

AN: I apologize for the lateness - I've had this for two weeks but the flu kept me down. If you feel inclined, leave me a review. I always go back and re-read the reviews on my old, finished works. Thank you to everyone who's offered advice along the way.