Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters, and all related names and phrases are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. This is a fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.
Christmas day.
It couldn't have happened on a more glorious and magical day. The sun, bright and cheerful as it was, filtered happily through the curtains of Harry's practically empty dorm room. He groaned sleepily, at this point not completely realizing that it was in fact, Christmas day. Hermione, however, wasted no time in rushing to his dorm, from her own practically empty dorm room (add two First year Gryffindor girls) to wake Harry with fervent excitement.
"I'm up! Please...just stop jumping on my bed!" cried Harry. He sat up and reached for the glasses that Hermione held in her hand. View coming into focus, he could see she was still in her nightclothes.
"What are you wearing?" he asked curiously, as a heat rose to his cheeks, noticing it wasn't her regular nightdress that she used to wear, back in her first years at Hogwarts.
Hermione blushed a pale pink color, suddenly very self-conscious of what she wore. It wasn't anything bad, she knew. But it wasn't exactly something you'd wear in front of a boy. A boy you were in love with, no less. Yellow pajama bottoms with a draw-string, blue and red kittens scattered up and down the legs of the p.j's. A bright yellow tank top to match, with a bright red cartoon kitten drawn on the front. It was tight fitting, and it showed more skin than she normally would care to show.
"I normally put on a robe...but I forgot in the excitement of CHRISTMAS DAY, you dolt," she replied defensively. He only grinned and threw down the covers of his bed, swinging his long legs over the edge.
"I was just asking, Hermione. I like them. They're cute," he told her, and grinned at the rising color in her cheeks.
"I didn't come here to discuss my style in night-clothes, Harry Potter. Merry Christmas," she greeted, pulling him up into a hug.
"Same to you, Hermione. Shall we go downstairs?" he asked.
"I'll meet you down there, I still have to get your gift. I left it in my room," she told him and before he could say anything, she was gone. Which left him to grab her gift, and not for the first time since he bought it, he worried that she may not like it.
Too late now, Potter...let's go, he told himself firmly. Staying in his own p.j's, Harry exited his dorm.
"Merry Christmas, Harry!" greeted one of the First years Harry recognized as Mercedes.
Harry had cringed when he found out that he would be the only male left in the Gryffindor House. Hermione and Ron had found it immensely amusing, as they had burst into fits of laughter at Harry's horrified expression.
"Merry Christmas, Mercedes" he returned, perching himself in front of the fire, ignoring the giggling of the two first years at the opposite end of the room.
The rushed pounding of feet let Harry know that Hermione had returned and she had a rather thick package with her.
"This is for you," she told him, rather shyly. Like Harry, she was terrified he wouldn't appreciate her gift, and the trouble she went through to make it.
He accepted the thick package, immediately assuming it was another book. She thrived at handing out books as presents.
He tore and ripped at the beautifully wrapped present, and Hermione had to giggle. Right now she couldn't care less about the paper, and moreso enjoyed the expression on his face. So many lost years he had suffered, with no parents to turn to for comfort, for presents on his birthday or Christmas...The lost years showed clearly on his face. The childish eagerness that she found so endearing, so wonderfully innocent, made her heart thump painfully against her ribcage, knowing that only love could make her feel this way.
"Oh...Hermione..."
The sigh that had escaped Harry let Hermione know that he had reached the gift.
Not one, but two leather bound photo albums lay on his lap. One was a deep velvety green, the other a deep crimson. He was flipping through the first one labeled "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry: Years 1-3". She already knew what photos were in the album, as she had spent months and months constructing this project. It had taken her a lot of time finding photos of his first years. That was the particular difficulty of her task. Luckily, Professor Dumbledore had many photos for her to collect. How he came across them, she did not know, and nor did she ask.
The second album labeled "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Years 4-6" was a little easier to achieve, because at that point in their lives she had taken to photography. Memories were most important, and she knew they meant the world to Harry.
"Hermione...it's perfect," he whispered, running a hand over the moving pictures. She had even managed to take one of him catching the Golden Snitch.
"I figured you needed something to look back on once we're done school," she told him modestly, secretly jumping for joy.
"It's the most amazing gift you've ever given me. And that counts for a lot," he added, remembering the present she had given him for his thirteenth birthday.
She smiled as he gave her a hug, and he slipped her gift from him into the palm of her hands.
It was a smaller package, one that could fit a piece of jewelry. Her eyes shot up to him excitedly. Would he dare to give her jewelry? The thought was just too sweet to bear. She wasn't very fond of jewelry, and rarely ever wore it. But she had a feeling that she'd wear anything Harry gave her, whether she hated it or not.
She tore open the package, trying to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to scare away Harry with her excitement.
The case was small and round, covered in a soft material, softer than velvet, and in a deep blue.
Her head buzzing with excitement, she opened the case delicately, and gasped at the contents.
"It's a Friendship ring," he explained, feeling completely silly. Of course she would think it was a ridiculous gift. Jewelry…Man, you know she hates jewelry.
"Harry...oh...it's...it's beautiful" she blurted, her heart thumping like never before. Lifting it out she examined it by the light of the fire. A rather large band of silver and gold that was looped through a silver chain.
"You don't wear it on your finger, you wear it around your neck," Harry explained, going into full detail of the ring.
"When you wear it, it links you to me. When you're in trouble, I'll know. No matter where you are, or who's with you. Even Voldemort can't take it from you. Once it's around your neck, only the owner, which would be you, can take it off."
At this point Hermione was examining the inside of the ring where encrypted against the marble ring it said "H/H, friends 4ever".
Her eyes burned from the tears that threatened to fall.
"I've never heard of this kind of ring before...where did you get it?" she asked suddenly, her face showing immense pleasure, mingled with curiosity.
"Uh..." he stammered. "Er...in Hogsmeade...I um, went to a shop and had it custom made," he replied rather shyly.
"Harry...I can't...it must have cost you such a fortune...this ring is far too magnificent..."
"I made it for you Hermione. Cost has never been an issue. You have been my issue. Your safety. I want to be able to protect you, even when I'm not around," he told her.
Hermione's brown eyes shimmered with the tears as she fought to control them.
"Harry, you're life isn't dedicated to protecting me," she said softly, a single hand reaching out to move a stray hair that had sprung up, knowing there was no use battling with his ever messy hair. His hand moved up to hold hers, his eyes deeply penetrating her own.
"I love it, Harry… This...it's the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me," she finally said, and realized that it was the truth. Eagerly unclasping the chain she reached over her own head to fasten it. Her thick, bushy hair got in the way though, and Harry eagerly rose to the occasion.
He sat behind her and grabbed both ends of the chain as she pulled her hair to the side, leaving the back of her shoulders to neck completely exposed. Harry held in a raspy breath, his heart speeding too fast, as he reluctantly fastened the ends. He didn't want to step away from her, didn't want to lose the vision of exposed skin.
Hell. He wanted her.
Ah, the subtle difficulties of being a hormonal 16 year old boy, he mentally sighed. He groaned inwardly. Never having a father to ask questions, he didn't really know to expect this kind of physical reaction to the woman he loved. He daringly let his index finger smooth over her exposed skin, slightly, and Hermione shivered under his brief touch. She didn't want Harry to stop, the feeling of him touching her bare skin was more than she had ever hoped for.
"Breakfast guys! It's Christmas! The professors are waiting!" cried the other spare first year named Lucinda.
Harry snapped his hand away, and Hermione jumped up, the ring around her neck now a new addition to her look.
"Hey...cool ring! Good going, Harry!" Mercedes quickly joined in, and Lucinda quickly nodded with agreement.
They both winked at a blushing Harry and quickly ushered themselves through the portrait hole.
"Time to get changed, I expect," Harry said unenthusiastically.
Hermione nodded, picking up the remains of wrapping paper, equally as disapointed as Harry.
What would have happened had they been left alone? Harry shook himself of these thoughts, and watched Hermione as she mechanically picked up the Christmas wrapping.
"I'll meet you back down here in five minutes," she promised, before heading up to her own dorms.
Harry would have made it to his own dorm room, had he not taken a glimpse outside the common room window. He gave a startled gasp, pressing his face against the cold glass.
"Hermione!" he shouted, not daring to look away from the glass.
"What? What is it?" Hermione wondered, shooting back downstairs. She hadn't even made to her own dorms when she heard him shout.
He pointed. Could she see what he saw?
The question was quickly answered when a gasp, identical to his own, escaped her mouth.
"It can't be!" she groaned.
There, down in the pure white snow, underneath the very window they were staring out of, sat a large black dog with pale eyes.
To Be Continued...