Work Text:
“You miss having Christmas with the Weasleys.” It was a statement, but Snape said it in a way that made it sound like a kind and questioning observation.
Hermione turned from setting some serving dishes on the sideboard, feeling a bit embarrassed. “How could you tell?”
With a tilt of his head toward the dining room table, he gestured to the giant twenty-five pound turkey. And then he raised a hand in the direction of the living room and swept it toward the huge basket of Christmas crackers sitting beside the fully decorated tree. And, with a sigh, he pointed out the knitting needles beside the fire, furiously working away on a somewhat ugly sweater with the letter H on the front.
“Sorry,” she sighed, storming over to the needles and grabbing them to suspend the magic spell. Then she slid into a seat at the table. “After more than twenty Christmases, it’s hard to break some habits…” She looked up into his eyes. “Do you completely hate me for it?”
“Oh not completely,” he said, amused, taking a seat beside her. The children were spending Christmas Eve with their father at the Burrow and the dining room table’s six chairs seemed like a waste. Hermione had spent a full day on decorations, transforming their house into something with Christmas cheer hiding, ready to spring out at you, at every corner. Hermione had insisted on a formal meal, even though it was just the two of them for the evening. And Snape, not knowing much about Christmas traditions, had let her plan as she pleased. Now it looked like he should have paid closer attention. “But it is quite a lot of turkey for just two people. Even with the kids coming back tomorrow, we will be eating leftovers for weeks.” He chuckled and slid an arm around her.
Leaning into him, she smiled. “I suppose it would make more sense to start our own traditions now. We can put a menorah in the window or eat Chinese take-away—whatever you’d like.”
He liked formality and routine of any kind. He liked simple things and being in control. He liked stability and predictability. But he loved Hermione Granger. Snape brandished his wand. “You get the plates and I’ll begin carving this monstrosity.”