—————S—————

Severus Snape felt old.

He was stiff, injuries from his youth aching with the Scottish dampness. There was also the stress of having had a mass murderer near the dorm of the boy he swore to protect, and his own beloved offspring.

And it was that offspring that was causing him to feel exceptionally old; he didn't feel he was ready to be a teenager's father. He couldn't process that his little girl was turning thirteen years old today.

Severus was not the type to be maudlin. He did not sit in his desk chair and stare at the top of her curly head bent over a cauldron and think of her days as a babe. He did loathe how much she was like her mother, far too mature for her age. He missed the days when she was small, brave, and wise, but quite cunning. Her at five years old, brewing a simple first year potion with only minimal assistance; her first solo flight on a real broom at six when Hermione was too busy with toddler Leo to realize what he was doing. It had been fifty-fifty on which house she would be sorted into, both he and Hermione agreed that those were her only two options, and they'd only know when she was sorted. She could easily convince them she hadn't eaten the cookies despite the crumbs on her face, and yet was willing to dive headfirst into something that would give Draco pause.

And here she was, thirteen, in a red and gold tie, still brave, wise, cunning, but no longer small. There would be boys trying to court her now, in just three years they would need to discuss what she wanted to do after Hogwarts. There were talks of possibly hosting the Triwizard Tournament and a Yule Ball next year for the first time in fifteen years. She would be a year too young to go on her own, but she'd probably attend as someone's date.

"Professor Snape," his daughter's voice brought him out of his reverie, and he realized he had gotten a bit maudlin after all. She was handing him a bottle of her completed potion, the first in her class, as always.

"Thank you, Miss Snape," he said as he collected her bottle and set it in the wire basket with the others. She'd been brewing Sleeping Draught since she was nine, he knew it would be perfect.

Standing abruptly, he swept the room to inspect her classmate's cauldrons.

It was the disgusting shade of green of one young Slytherin boy's potion that made him pause. Green meant that the lavender hadn't been put in at the right time, and it was nearly too late to fix. Severus looked from the cauldron to the boy, then followed the boy's half-glazed eyes right to ...

He snatched the boy's book from the table and smacked him on the ears with it.

"Ow," the boy whined, rubbing his ear as the class gave an unsure giggle.

"Pay attention, Mr. Devon, or you will find that instead of a Sleeping Draught, you've created a disgusting, foul-smelling potion that would put you in a coma from poisoning. Either way, you will be taking a sample of it tonight before bed. Hope you merely find yourself well-rested come morning rather than haunting the common room."

He swept away, watching another Slytherin and the Creevey boy suddenly spring into action. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Idiots, the lot of them. If they really thought he'd make them drink poison, then he knew his momentary wistful remembrance was not about to ruin his reputation. The potion would make them ill, of course, and make them wish they'd followed instructions, but it wouldn't kill them.

He sighed to himself, realizing that one of his greatest fears as a father of a pretty girl was already beginning. At the same moment, he felt his right knee buckle.

Old. He felt way, way too old.

—————A—————

"Rory," Draco greeted as he came up beside her on the Quidditch stands. He glanced around at the others watching the match with her. "Luna, Weasley, Granger, Weasel. Where's Longbottom? Isn't he usually around you lot? Or does Weasel prefer the girl chat?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron retorted. "Slither away, now."

"Don't be rude," Ginny chided before leaning against Rory. "Neville's with Seamus and Dean in the main Gryffindor stands. We wanted to watch with Luna, so..."

"Third-wheeling, is he?" Draco commented, making a face as if he were impressed by the idea before adjusting his cloak to better shield him from the storm.

"Whaddya mean, third wheel?" Ron asked before getting distracted by the game.

"What are you doing over here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, having so little interest in the game that she seemed to find the prospect of talking to Draco appealing.

"I gave Crabbe and Goyle the slip. Thought a change of scenery would do me good, not to mention the level of intelligent conversation. Well, when I don't factor in Weasel."

Ron flipped him off but was too caught up with Quaffles and points to really mean it.

There was silence in the stands for a moment, and as the Weasley siblings shifted closer to the rail to watch the action, Hermione shifted away from between them and weaved her way to stand next to Draco.

He was watching the Seekers, following their paths as they zigged and zagged.

"I want to know something," Hermione said.

"Not surprising," Draco retorted, keeping his eyes on the sky.

"What are you doing? I get being nice to Rory, you grew up with her. I even understand being kind to Luna and Ginny. But why are you being nice to me? And Harry. You haven't said a rotten thing about either of us all week."

At this, Draco looked at her, sizing her up. He glanced briefly at Rory, but the movement was so swift that Hermione missed it.

"I was told my opinions and beliefs needed a reevaluation. You and Potter are a part of the people I was taught to hate, as is Weasel. So far, the latter has been about what I expected, but aside from that, I think there may be something wrong with what I've been taught."

"About pure-blood superiority?"

"Among other things," Draco conceded. "I can't say I won't mock Potter or you if the situation calls for it. People are watching, I need to maintain an image. But I'll choose my words more carefully. I've thrown around terms and insults in the past that are too vulgar to be repeated. I disgust myself just thinking about saying them," he sniffed, turning his attention back to the game. "Where the blazes did Potter and Diggory go?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Ron gasped, and Aurora turned back to the game just in time to watch Harry fall limply from the clouds without his broom.

She noted a half dozen teachers, her dad and Aunt Min among them, throwing their hands out in time with Dumbledore. They all shouted something, and as they did, Harry stopped with a mighty jerk before slowly lowering to the ground.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"Dementors," Hermione said, pointing to the sky.

Their shadows could just be made out through the rainstorm. A chill ran down Aurora's spine, and she put an arm around Ginny as she shuddered.

"Tell Potter I'm sorry," Draco said.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because I'm going to need to make fun of him for this," he said with great regret, and Aurora got the distinct feeling that the change in the wind wasn't only caused by the Dementors moving away from the school.

"Hello, Rory," Aunt Minnie greeted as she closed the door. A beat later, she was wrapped in the older woman's arms. "I see you all the time, and yet I never get to spend much time with you. I think I saw more of your mother as a student than I do you."

"Something tells me that life at Hogwarts wasn't quite as eventful in the seventies," Rory replied with a cheeky grin, earning a chuckle.

"Perhaps in a different way. Now, what brings you to my doorstep and not your father's?" Her smile faltered. Despite being alone in her office, Aunt Min lowered her voice, "He told me you know . Is there something you want to discuss? I doubt many others have, but we've both noticed Draco Malfoy hanging around you and your friends. Including when you're with Mr. Potter."

Aurora shifted, unsure how to ask. "Well, there is something I want to discuss. And it does have to do with us and Draco, but it's not about ... that. Not really. Maybe a bit—"

"Rory," Aunt Min cut her off, a softness to her stern scowl that gave away the tender affection she always exuded when her niece rambled.

"Right. Draco's staying here for the Christmas hols, and Dad may have hinted that he's the only Slytherin staying, except for a few seventh years. I was wondering, in the spirit of Christmas and house unity, could Draco stay in Gryffindor Tower during the break?"

Aunt Min looked thoughtful, a bit put out, and extremely intrigued. She gestured for Aurora to sit, and then took her own seat on the other side of the desk. She folded her hands, looking more interested in the stack of papers than her niece, though Aurora knew better. She also knew that this was not the time to talk, so she waited patiently for her aunt to come to a conclusion.

"Rory, your proposition is very noble. Admittedly, no Gryffindor has ever asked me if a student from another house could stay in the tower. It is a wonderful suggestion, and I know it comes from an honest want for inclusion. But it's not so simple. However," –here, she gave a cat-like grin—"if Mr. Malfoy were to find himself in the tower after curfew, and his Head of House does not demand he return to his dormitory, the house-elves may need to conjure an additional bed with the other third-year boys. We can't allow Mr. Filch to catch him, can we?"

As Aurora came around the corner near the hunched witch, she was brought up short by a sight that would have Mr. Filch cursing: the Weasley twins snickering. She moved slowly and quietly, looking around to make sure no other students were coming, and then tried to sneak up behind them.

"What are you two doing?" she asked, though neither twin looked particularly worried that she'd caught them.

"Giving a good friend some valuable information," Fred replied.

"We're sure he'll repay us for it," George added.

"He had better." They nodded to one another, sobering as much as they could.

"And you're missing out on Hogsmeade to do this?" She arched a brow.

"Bit scary when you do that," Fred pointed at it.

"Look like your father." George nodded.

"Only not as beak-like."

"Or greasy."

"No offense," they said together.

Aurora shook her head.

"And what are you doing up here?" Fred asked.

"I was looking for Luna. Sometimes I find her just wandering around."

"Bored, are you?" George asked.

"Anyone else up there bored to tears?"

"Why?" Aurora asked slowly. "What did you have in mind?"

—————A—————

The wind was cold and biting but exhilarating. With the Quaffle tucked under her left arm, right hand gripping her broom, she zipped off toward the goal posts where Colin Creevey was shaking on his broom. She doubted he wanted to be anything like Harry at the moment, with her barreling toward him with the twins behind her.

They couldn't play with all the balls. Her father, when asked if they could play some Quidditch, had not let them use the Snitch or Bludgers. He didn't want the game to last forever, and he also didn't want to have to talk to Poppy if there were broken bones.

He was watching from the stands, along with Professor Lupin, though she was sure both were more concerned with the papers they were marking, since the end of term was the next day.

It was quite amusing how the twins had managed to round up a good number of second years who had brooms, and then went around to ask the other houses if there were any youngsters who wanted to play, and yet were too scared to ask one of the only available teachers to use the pitch. Out of seven Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, and two Slytherins, the only one willing to ask was the Potions master's daughter, and she didn't chalk that up to bravery.

Still, despite his snarl and his grumble about wasting time, he let them have their fun. Professor Lupin, who was heading to her dad's office just as they were having the conversation, suggested Transfiguring a couple of items into soft rubber balls in lieu of Bludgers. Her dad had sneered at the suggestion but had done it.

They rounded up a Hufflepuff fourth year that hadn't gone to Hogsmeade to act as a Snitch. He had to be tagged three times for it to count as a win.

So far, he'd only been tagged once. By the girls. The twins had insisted on a battle of the sexes.

"Bludger's coming your way," she heard Fred warn teasingly.

"You aren't going to get me with it," she called back, keeping her eyes on Colin as he weaved unsteadily, unsure where to go.

She shifted her arm, gave the Quaffle a mighty toss, and watched as it sailed past Colin and one of the Slytherin boys. A moment later, a soft springy ball bounced against the back of her head. Turning, she saw Fred give her a cheeky grin and a wink before following his brother.

She shifted, unease and something else making her want to crawl out of her skin in the best way possible. She hated it.

—————S—————

They walked through the thin forest on the edge of Nan McGonagall's property, pinky fingers linked. The house was too full for his and Hermione's liking, and the conversation was all about babies. Two of the oldest McGonagall grandchildren had announced their expected arrivals, and Delia's pregnancy was still a novelty.

So, when it was clear that no one was going to miss them, he and Hermione left the house.

It was snowing lightly, the ground covered and the trees lightly dusted. The sun was cutting through the clouds, and alone as they were, Severus almost wanted to call the whole scene romantic.

"We haven't really had a chance to talk since the train," she said when the house grew small in the distance.

That was true. But he wouldn't trade having her fall asleep against him and in his arms for anything. No one had ever trusted him like that, and he wasn't sure anyone else would.

"Was there something you wanted to discuss?" he asked, not letting his nerves show.

There were so many things she might want to discuss. She might not want to continue their physical intimacy. They'd only kissed, but maybe she'd been caught up in the wonder of it that night and had fallen prey to typical teenage hormones. Maybe she was scared of what the idiots would do in retaliation.

"Well," she said, stepping away from him to lean against a thick, slightly curved tree, "I'd like to know your thoughts."

"On?"

"Us."

"Us?" He didn't want to assume he knew what she meant.

Hermione wrung her fingers and chewed her lip, and he had to stop himself from taking her hands and kissing her senseless to stop the nervous habit.

" I know you said you were hoping for future dates, and we kissed. A lot. But I want to know where we stand." She paused, wondering if he was paying attention.

As it was, Severus was distracted, forcing himself to look away lest he spring himself on her. He'd heard everything she'd said, but he was distracted by what was growing on the tree just feet above her head, and its appearance made him wonder if tradition would be acceptable.

"I mean," she continued, "are we only friends who are experimenting? Or are we more?"

"More."

"Ar—"

"My answer was more. So long as you agree, Hermione Granger, I wish to court you." He pulled his eyes away from the plant and locked them on her wide brown eyes. "I will not adhere to the tradition that dictates doing so will end in marriage. It's archaic, really. I would never want to hold you to a promise when we don't know how this will end. But, in all other aspects...."

"Every school event, every Hogsmeade weekend, is automatically you and me. And if one of us is invited somewhere that requires a guest," she replied.

"Yes."

"Then I agree." She beamed. "Though I'd have been happy just knowing we were more than friends."

Severus smirked and stepped closer to her, putting one hand on the tree beside her head. "There's another thing about courtship that's a guarantee."

"And that is?"

"I'm the only one who gets to kiss you under that ," he said, tilting his chin and bringing her attention to the mistletoe she'd stepped under.

She looked up, blushed, and let out an elated giggle. She took his lapels in her fists and pulled him closer. He relaxed his arm, allowing his body to fall closer to her, and found Hermione's arms circling his neck, bringing him closer still. Slowly, tentatively, Severus allowed his hands to make their way to Hermione's hips. She responded by putting her fingers in his hair.

Logically, he knew they had only been somewhat together for two days, that there was no way anything was going to happen. But logic was pushed aside by teenage hormones and was very quickly silencing all other thought and reason.

Hermione took a breath, her mouth remained open just a bit, and he couldn't resist. She pulled him a bit closer when his tongue lightly touched hers, a noise coming from the back of her throat.

They sprung apart in an instant at the sound of a twig snapping, Hermione with nowhere else to go but around the tree. Severus had his wand in hand, no magic outside of Hogwarts be damned, and pointed it towards the noise.

A bunny hopped out and froze, nose twitching and its head darting around, looking for danger.

Severus relaxed, and a beat later, Hermione giggled as he sheathed his wand.

"I suppose it could've been worse," Severus said as he moved a step toward her and reached for her hand. "It could have been Bob or one of the others. Then we'd never hear the end of it."

"I think Minerva already knows, but it's nice not to reveal too much," Hermione agreed as she took his hand.

"So, we won't be too obvious," he said, ensuring his face showed none of the amusement he felt at the idea of sneaking around like a proper teenager. "We'll be mysteriously unreadable for the next few hours until we can get back to the school."

"Agreed," Hermione said with a nod, and they continued making their way around the property. "And when we're back at school, we'll be on our best behavior. Honestly, snogging in alcoves is ridiculous. Not to mention hardly the place for privacy, since everyone knows about them."

"I agree." Severus nodded, his lips twitching with the urge to smirk. That sofa in the lab was ridiculously comfortable, and if Moody left them in the Room of Requirement to meditate, well, he'd certainly find a form of inner peace.

—————H—————

There was a sense of déjà vu as Hermione stood outside the Great Hall after finishing her breakfast, impatiently waiting for Severus. She'd wanted to meet up with him before breakfast but found Lily had somehow beaten her to it. He hadn't looked thrilled with Lily following him up from the dungeons; the glower he wore reminiscent of his older self. It had only softened a tiny bit when she'd smiled at him.