"Albus, sometimes you're a genius!" Hermione marched in the drawing room where Albus stood in front of the big window, approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around him.
He obviously wanted to turn around, but she stopped him. "Don't move. I want to admire your back."
"I didn't know I'd got an admirable back," he chuckled. "But if it makes you happy - it's all yours."
Hermione buried her face in his mane and sighed contentedly. "You know," she said, sounding a bit muffled, "I haven't seen Harry this excited in months. You really made him happy."
Albus laid his hands over hers, resting on his chest. "He gave me socks for Christmas. I had to do something for him too."
"But sending him and Ginny to the New Years Party at the Auror's Academy - that really was a brilliant idea! With 100 aurors around he and Ginny are absolutely safe ..." Hermione said.
"... and they'll have fun." Albus pulled one of her hands to his mouth and kissed it. "Hermione - are you sure you wouldn't like going there too? I could make you a port key, you could join ..."
"No!" Hermione tugged lightly on his hair. "No, you won't get rid of me so easily. I've had more parties over the last weeks than I ever thought I'd celebrate in my lifetime and now I'm very much looking forward to a quiet evening at home - and with you, if you don't have other engagements."
"I haven't." Now he turned around and took her in the arms. "And I'm glad you're here with me, Hermione. If I were alone I might get a bit sentimental."
"Yuck!" Hermione made and rose on her tiptoes to blow a kiss on the tip of his nose. "A sentimental Slytherin? That's a contradiction in terms. We can't have that, can we? Severus would get the jitters about it. Oh - by talking about him ..." She became serious again. "What will he do tonight?"
"You're afraid he'll become sentimental?' Albus grinned. "Hermione, the savior of sentimental Slytherins ..."
"No, Albus. I don't think Severus needs to be rescued because he could become sentimental. But I wouldn't like to think of him brooding alone in his depressing dungeons on New Year's Eve."
"First, my dear ...," Albus moved over to his favorite chair in front of the fireplace and pulled Hermione in his lap, "... I can assure you, that Severus' private quarters aren't depressing. Perhaps you wouldn't like the decoration in the Slytherin colors, but it's nevertheless quite elegant. Second: You mustn't worry. He is not alone."
"Oh," said Hermione. She thought immediately of Shanda - and she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of her being with Severus.
"Oh, oh," echoed Albus. "Must I use legilimency or will you tell voluntarily why you're looking like Minerva when she'd caught two poor students in flagrante delicto?"
Hermione sank her head and looked to Albus' hand on her knees. It was unmistakably an old hand - the skin dry and almost translucent over the bones, the dark blotches a stark contrast against the white of the skin, the index finger once broken to pieces and never healed completely, therefore in its upper part not so straight as its fellow fingers. But it was nevertheless a strong and gentle hand and Hermione loved it. Taking it, she laid it against her face and snuggled her cheek in the warmth of the palm.
Albus seemed to understand. "So bad, little lioness?" he asked.
Hermione sighed. Slowly she said: "I think I know who Severus is. I saw his guest last time as she left the castle."
"Hmm," Albus said. "And you don't approve ..."
Hermione didn't answer. She only chewed on her under lip.
