Emmeline looked out at the crisp snow that blanketed the grounds. It was pretty damn cold for mid-November. She blamed the Dementors that were still circling the grounds. They had made it frost nearly every night since October. Now things were going into a deep freeze, turning even light, fluffy snow into ice crystals that bit the cheeks as the wind blew.

Definitely not the sort of place that would be happy for the holidays.

"Hello, Professor Vance!" Hermione Granger called happily. Emmeline smiled. She admired Hermione's tenacity, though she was slightly miffed at the girl's insistence in providing essays that always over-measured by at least an inch. And in tiny, albeit neat, handwriting that was difficult to read as the day wore on.

"How are my dear?"

"Wonderful!" Hermione said with a wide smile. "I'm going to be visiting my grandmother in Wales for Christmas! I haven't seen her in years, not since Hogwarts. Of course, I'm going to have to say something else."

"Tell her you go to a very exclusive private school for gifted individuals, by invitation only." Emmeline supplied swiftly. Hermione beamed.

"Brilliant! Thank you, professor!" Emmeline nodded as the girl ran off. Then she turned to go back to her office. Her mood had slagged somewhat.

Christmas.

Oh, how she absolutely detested Christmas.

Not the cheer of others, oh no. She wasn't a Scrooge either and admired the spirit of generosity and kindness.

But she hated how everyone wanted her to be happy.

But how could she be happy when this was the time when she'd had her heart ripped out and stomped on by a man she'd thought she would be spending the rest of her life with.

She scowled and rubbed the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

"Hiya professor!" Fred Weasley crowed as she walked past. Emmeline immediately stretched a smile over her pain.

"How are you, Mr. and Mr. Weasley?"

"Alright," George replied.

"Looking forward to the holidays." Fred agreed.

"Except for Aunt Muriel." They finish in unison with a grimace. Emmeline raised an eyebrow.

"Muriel Weasley is coming to stay with you? I was under the impression she never left that house of hers in Cambridge."

"She doesn't." They responded with a grumble.

"We're going to visit her,"

"This year,"

"Mum insisted,"

"It's going to be just awful." The twins finished with a slight whine. Emmeline frowned.

"I thought Harry was going to be staying with you this year?"

"He was."

"But Mum sent Ron a letter saying he should tell Harry it was probably best for him to stay here."

"She didn't want to have to subject Harry to Muriel."

"I see," Emmeline murmured. And she did. Having met Muriel only once, Emmeline knew that the Weasleys would have a very very exhausting holiday. Then her brain caught up with the full connotations of that sentence. "Oh! Poor Harry! The darling must have been devastated!" She bemoaned with a whine. The twins winced.

"He was a bit bummed, yeah."

"But he seemed resigned to it really,"

"Not the first time he's stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays."

"Is the first time alone though."

"Hmm."

"Alone?" Emmeline demanded with worry.

"No one else in Gryffindor is staying over the holidays." The left twin admitted while the right nodded slowly.

Emmeline felt her heart sink.

She turned away from the twins walking away feeling reached. A scowl scrunched up her features.

She really hated Christmas.

It came to her the next morning.

"Shame about the Dementors!" Minerva piped up, rather loudly from down the table, trying to catch Albus' attention. "It's really a lovely day for flying!" It was a familiar argument, as Minerva got on Albus' case about being too deferential to the Ministry. But Emmeline was suddenly frozen, staring straight ahead, spoon abandoned and slowly sinking into her porridge.

Flying.

Her eye flicked down to the Gryffindor table, where a young black-haired child was putting on a forced smile as he listened to all his friends tell him about their holiday plans, save Hermione and Ronald, who both seemed to be understanding of his melancholy mood.

And in an instant, Emmeline knew exactly what she needed to do.

She looked down at her porridge, which had sucked in her spoon like quicksand.

She knew… but could she actually do it.

She looked at Harry again. The boy winced and muttered something to his friends before leaving the table alone.

Emmeline frowned angrily.

Oh yes. She most certainly could.

Severus was sitting, eyes drifted closed in a facade of drowsiness. But he was awake. Falling asleep in the Great Hall would be tantamount to suicide, what with…

He paused in his thoughts.

It had been a month since anyone had tried to kill him. The last attempt resulted in four sixth years, one from each house, being sentenced to life in Azkaban. He wondered if perhaps, finally, the idiots had gotten the message and would give up on their little games.

So, feeling confident and a bit smug, he snapped his fingers twice. This was the teacher's universal signal to the house elves below to add their chosen alcohol to any beverage they were currently drinking. Severus hummed happily as the smell of double-malt Scotch whiskey began to rise from his coffee. But just as he was about to indulge Emmeline walked past in robes so austere and high collar Severus almost mistook her for Minerva.

"Emmeline… what are you wearing?" He asked in slight shock. Then he flinched. The woman had large bags under her eyes, and her braid, usually much more loose and flowing, was pulling her skin tight, making the various lines on her face very prominent.

"Is there alcohol in that coffee?" She asked wearily. Severus nodded slowly. Then Emmeline grabbed it and knocked the whole thing back in a few gulps. Severus didn't have the time to be upset over his worry. The woman never drank black coffee. No sugar, but a heaping pile of milk and the occasional Irish cream. "What is wrong?" He demanded. Emmeline took a deep breath before she whipped out a makeup palette and began fixing the bags under her eyes.

"I'm going to meet with the promotional manager of the Cleansweep company today." Severus froze. He clenched his jaw so tight his teeth felt like they were close to cracking and the loose grip on his fork tightened to white knuckles.

"Why?" He snarled slowly, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Because I'm getting Harry a new broom for Christmas." Emmeline declared. "A Firebolt, to be exact." Severus went slack-jawed.

"A Firebolt?! Emmeline, those aren't exactly inexpensive!"

"Which is why I'm going to the promotional manager." Emmeline reminded him. Severus snarled.

"Should have let me poison him. I could have made it look like an accident. It wouldn't be hard, in his line of work."

"Shush Severus." Emmeline admonished. The man huffed.

"Fine. But if you come back in tears I will be sending him a very unfriendly Christmas present." Emmeline chuckled and turned on her heel, sweeping out of the Great Hall, passing Remus without so much as a smile. The werewolf looked very confused and turned to Severus with a shrug. The man had to suppress the monumental urge to sneer at the man and just shook his head with an eye roll.

Emmeline hated the corporate offices of his grandfather's company. The workshop was in Wales, on one of the sprawling moors and had a general air of chaos and fun. The corporate offices were in the heart of London, hiding in a nondescript office building. They were painfully starched and stuffy. She walked up to the reception desk, the glamour over her dress robes disappearing as she crossed the threshold.

"Hello," Emmeline said to the man at the desk. "I'm here to speak with Charles Tippet."

"Do you have an appointment?" The man droned in a dull level tone.

"The name is Emmeline Vance." She said firmly. The man instantly went wide-eyed. "I think he'll speak to me."

Emmeline looked out the window of the office, not a penthouse, or even a top floor, but the view was nonetheless spectacular.

"Emmeline?" Came a very familiar, very painful voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a proposition for the Cleansweep company," Emmeline said, refusing to turn around. He would come to her.

"What kind of proposition?"

"I want a Firebolt," Emmeline said, getting it out of the way. There was a stumble.

"You want me to give you 4000 Galleons worth of profit!?" Then the man laughed. Emmeline flinched. She hated his laugh. It was so cold. Even when he was happy. It grasped her heart and squeezed it. "Emmeline… have you finally gone completely mad?" Emmeline sneered. She could hear the smirk on his face. So she finally turned around. But her sneer had melted away to a blank look.

"I intend it to be a gift."

Charles hadn't changed.

His blond hair was still styled in that way that made him look like a young playboy, though he now had more wrinkles around his eyes, and his suit was still as sleek and tailored in the latest fashion. She noticed a glint on his left hand and resisted the urge to vomit.

"A gift to who?" Charles demanded equally flabbergasted, but a cruel glint in his eyes indicated that he felt as though he'd won that little battle of wills about the window. "You don't talk to anyone or do anything. Who could you possibly give that broom to? Just admit that you're trying to use your position as the CEO's granddaughter to get a better broom." He drawled, making his way around to his desk.

"I teach History of Magic at Hogwarts," Emmeline said firmly. The man stumbled again and whipped back around.

"What?! Since when?"

"September. When Hogwarts started. Obv-ious-ly." Emmeline drawled out, the way Severus might. The man scoffed.

"Well, what does that have to do with anything?"

"One of the students lost his broom during a match. He is very skilled, and the school brooms are simply unacceptable."

"Alright, but I still can't give some random student a Firebolt!" Charles exclaimed angrily. "That would be ludicrous!"

"The student is Harry Potter." Emmeline declared. Charles froze.

"THE Harry Potter?" He asked in shock. Emmeline raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?"

"Hmm… well… that changes things a bit."

"I figured it would." Charles was staring contemplatively at his ceiling. Then he gave Emmeline his cold business look.

"Would he be willing to give an interview?" Emmeline pursed her lips.

"I'm not so certain about that. He's only 13, Charles." She reminded him. Then she huffed. "you can make a statement. And I'll send you a photo from when he receives it, but whether or not he's willing to do an interview will have to wait until AFTER he's received it." Charles narrowed his eyes

"What's stopping you from holding out on me?"

"My honour," Emmeline said. "Something you would know nothing about." Charles stared at her for several moments before he sat back in his chair.

"Alright." He assented. "I'll have it delivered two days before Christmas. You'll be at Hogwarts I presume?"

"Yes."

"Right." Then Charles handed her a piece of paper. It was an official receipt. Emmeline folded it and tucked it into her robes. She would be holding onto it. If Charles didn't hold up his end of their little bargain, she would go over his head.

"How're things?" Charles suddenly asked. Emmeline scoffed.

"Don't try and act like you care just because I happen to know someone famous, Charles." The man scowled and began shuffling his papers, trying to downplay his obvious ploy. "I could see it from a mile away." Emmeline declared with a sneer. Charles chuckled darkly.

"It's only what I'd expect from a snake like you." Emmeline smiled.

"Oh Charles, it's been a long time, and I'm afraid I don't give a horse's arse what you think of my Hogwarts house. Now if you'll excuse me." Then she left. Despite the calm cool exterior inside she was crumbling, shaking like a leaf and sobbing. But she refused to give that man, that bastard, the satisfaction of seeing her break. As soon as she left the offices she let out a stuttered sob. She took a deep breath, pulling herself together before she disappeared back to the safe, secure, walls of Hogwarts.

Severus approached the office door with some trepidation. The tray of hot chocolate in his hands had seemed brilliant at the time of him going to the kitchen and asking for it. But now that he was reaching his destination, he wasn't entirely sure he would be welcome.

Still.

He cleared his throat.

"Emmeline?"

"Oh god," Emmeline whined. "Oh, Severus please not now." The man winced.

"Very well," he murmured, but he was certain she could still hear him. "I'll just leave this at the door…" he placed the tray down and began to walk away. Then the door opened. Emmeline looked terrible, eyes puffy and red, with exhaustion running its dark circles around them, and cheeks rudy red. If Severus didn't know any better he'd say she was down with a terrible cold.

But he did know better, and it only served to sadden and infuriate him in equal measure.

Emmeline was staring at the tray of hot chocolate with a wobbly lip. Then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Severus was momentarily horrified before his rage came back. He scowled and marched up to her. Ignoring any protest she might have, he scooped her up into his arms, made the tray magically follow him in and closed the door behind him. He walked through her office, where her desk was littered with an empty bottle of gin and a decimated tissue box, and straight to her bed chamber, which consisted of the standard Hogwarts staff furniture of bed, desk, lounge chair, dresser, standing mirror and side table. He placed her on the bed, propped up on the pillows and pulled first her shawl and then her blankets around her still shaking shoulders. Then he put the hot chocolate into her hands.

"Drink." He insisted, with all the same tone and fury he directed to the whiny brats in the hospital wing, that turned their noses up at the brews he painstakingly crafted to heal their idiotic injuries. Emmeline took a shuddery breath and sniffled before doing as he instructed, taking a slightly choked drink at first, then longer slower ones as she calmed. Severus knew the half dose of calming draft was a good idea.

"You shouldn't lace young women's drinks." Emmeline admonished quietly. Her voice was weak, but her tone indicated her true appreciation.

"My offer still stands." Severus reminded her as he folded his arms grumpily. Emmeline shook her head, pulling her blankets further around her into a sort of cocoon of warmth. Severus huffed. "Fine." He turned on his heel fully intending to leave when a sudden doubt filled his mind. "Emmeline…"

"Yes, Severus?" The woman asked with a sigh.

"Of the two of us… who do you despise more?"

"Oh Severus," Emmeline said with a sad smile. "I don't despise you." She fell silent and looked out her window. "You hurt me. There can be no denying that." She looked at him suddenly serious. "I don't despise you. But I do despise Charles." Severus' hand on the doorknob tightened. Emmeline looked so angry. Angrier than he had ever seen her. It was simultaneously breathtaking and terrifying. "You had the decency to make yourself scarce after you ripped my heart out. But Charles," she chuckled darkly. "Charles felt the need to rub it in. He had to show me how much better his life was without me. He sent me a Christmas card with his new fiance, an invitation to their wedding, and an invitation to celebrate the birth of both his children."

"Please let me poison him!" Severus begged furiously. Oh, how he HATED this man! Emmeline shook her head.

"I don't have anything against his children or his wife. She is a lovely woman, and the girls are very sweet." Emmeline admitted. "It's just him I can't stand. But I wouldn't want them to have to go through something so wretched."

"I could always take away his ability to reproduce." Severus drawled coldly. Instantly he wished he hadn't. Emmeline went pale as milk and shook her head.

"No… never… how could you even." She put a shaky hand over her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Severus said hastily as he fell to his knees in front of her, feeling so utterly foolish. "That was a terrible thing to say and I-" Emmeline placed a hand on his cheek.

"You couldn't possibly understand what a horrible experience that is. " Emmeline muttered to him, with hollow eyes. "For which I am eternally grateful. I would never wish that pain on even my worst enemy Severus." The man raised a hand to the one on his cheek and pulled it away, so he could hold it in both of his. She smiled gratefully and gave his hands a gentle squeeze. Then she closed her eyes and sighed. "Today has been so incredibly long." She complained bitterly. Severus nodded and released her hand, rising back to his feet.

"You should rest." Emmeline nodded, setting the mug on her side table. Severus paused in the doorway again. "Goodnight Emmeline."

"To you as well Severus," Emmeline muttered as she pulled off her shawl and placed it on her chair. Then Severus closed the door behind him.