Yuletide Love Blossoms

Yuletide Love Blossoms

By

William Evans Potter

One of the loveliest times to view Hogwarts was during Yule season, when Hagrid was bringing in tall, rich fur trees, Professor Flitwick was busy enchanting different decorations, and students were abuzz with many different topics of gossip: who was going home, who had done what to whom and where, not to mention the biggest topic of them all this year - who was going to the Yule Ball with whom.

When Dumbledore had decided to hold the dance from the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts for students only, many of the girls squealed in delight, not the least of whom where Parvati and Padma Patil, Lavender Brown, and even Ginny Weasley. And while boys were certainly talking over tips and who was going with whom with as much fever as any of the girls, there was one who remained silent throughout the whole first term - Harry Potter. He - amidst the sniggers, jeers, and taunts from all the boys his year and younger who would be going - remained silent, if anything appearing doubly interested in his studies as he worked just as hard in studying as he did at the night time playing Quidditch, help Ron work out some strategies he had thought of during the summer. There was only one other person who was not very excited by the news of the Yule Ball, and that was Hermione Granger, if only for slightly different reasons.

For as far back as she could remember, Hermione had always been alone, always the one to be left out of being asked to the dance. Of course, that changed during her fourth year, when Viktor Krum decided to ask her out. Viktor, a sweet young man who had been intrigued by Hermione, but what could have been love had merely warmed into a nice friendship. Not that Hermione would let everyone KNOW that - after all, she had attracted the eye of the world's youngest professional Quidditch player (a seeker no less!) and that garnered her much respect from some of the ladies at the time. But the one person she was really hoping to go with was her best friend, Harry Potter, that sweet, naïve, and totally oblivious young man who had captured her heart more and more each day. At first she thought she had been more attracted to Ron, when he had told her during their summer break that he had feelings for her. For a while then, she thought she was happy with him. But once school term started, it had been obvious to her once their relationship ended badly; his attitude was way too possessive, and he had always demanded that her attention be focused more on him than on studying.

So Hermione and Harry, the most silent and shy Gryffindors of the school, simply ignored the chats, furiously scribbling notes or reading some book or another. The two never noticed that a growing amount of whispering was the talk that Harry and Hermione would end up going out. Of course, no one would voice it aloud near them - there would have been a long and vociferous tirade the likes of which compared to Professor McGonagall, the head of their house. But in the whispers, brought upon by Lavender and Parvati - who refused to say where they got their information - the talk was that Harry and Hermione simply remained in firm denial of their feelings. What they of course didn't know was that Harry had been making very small steps towards the goal of getting Hermione.

Late in the afternoon after finishing his classes, Harry would go to the Room of Requirement, always needing more time so that he could be able to learn in private without affecting his studies, at the same time also “requiring” a method of learning how to dance. So Harry got a small wooden floor that had a series of dials and a slot on it. And in this slot he put the picture of Hermione from fourth year that he “light fingered” from Colin Creevey in her magnificent gown, stealing the hearts and minds of many of the boys that night. Each time he had the chance, Harry took up dancing lessons with his “friend Hermione,” always ending in time for dinner, with a strange smile that his real friend Hermione could never figure out; not that Harry would tell her that he was using her old image to teach him how to dance, because it would seem just too silly, and plus she would want to know why, something Harry would never tell her just yet. For Harry would never tell her that he had fallen for her.

It had begun innocently enough with her forceful letters trying to get him to open up. During the summer Harry had tried shutting himself out from everyone, if only to try and rid himself of the magical world. That plan had almost worked, until Hermione had written back using a Howler, much to Harry's chagrin. After that she had begun calling him, until finally he broke down at his birthday party, Hermione trying to comfort him with pitying glances. Of course that night the Death Eaters had “crashed” the party, which brought Harry down even more the next day. Of course, he had planned to tell Hermione that he was starting to feel something, but Ron and Hermione had hooked up after Harry's birthday when Ron had admitted his feelings for Hermione. Harry had seen Hermione give him a long kiss, leaving with no intention of looking at them. Later they cornered him about their relationship, until finally he had given them his dejected blessing, but once again he had taken to hiding, even though his excuse was dealing with the events of his birthday party. However, all he was really doing was crying over the loss of Hermione.

For Harry, all he ever wanted was someone to love and be loved by. It seemed that every time he did find someone they ended up being taken away from him; his parents and Sirius most notably. So back in the present, Harry had been dancing in secret for the past two months since the Halloween feast. Harry always made sure that he had complete privacy, where he would take the time to painstakingly learn to dance, everything from a Fox Trot to the Tango, not to mention the other wizarding style dances. And during the same time Harry was learning to dance, Hermione was trying desperately to avoid any contact with the students about the dance. After all, it was so depressing to hear about who was hooking up with whom - Ron had decided to ask Lavender Brown, while Ginny was going with Dean Thomas and Neville with Luna Lovegood.

Fate seemed to finally give Harry a break from his “cursed love life” when one day he decided to spend some extra time in his sessions with the Wizarding dance mats. Hermione had gone upstairs to the dorm to check with Harry to see if he wanted to go to the library, but when she couldn't find him got slightly worried. Steeling herself to the boys' dormitory and not finding him there, she checked inside his trunk and found his Marauder's Map. Quickly muttering the password, she used the map to find him in the Room of Requirement. Curious, she steered her way over to find him, opening the door a crack to find Harry in the middle of dancing somewhat elegantly with the image of her. She squinted to make sure she wasn't seeing things, but the image shimmered slightly, and she realized it was merely a fake. Not wanting to risk be discovered, Hermione slipped in, closing the door quietly behind her. Harry had been completely oblivious. The sight of him dancing made her chuckle, hearing her laughter echo in the room as she realized too late what she had done. Harry stopped in mid-dance, looking over to the door to see Hermione there looking horrorstruck, hands over her mouth.

“Hermione, wh - what are y - you doing here…” Harry asked tentatively.

“I was looking for you to ask if you wanted to go to the library,” Hermione replied, feeling somewhat nervous finally being alone with Harry.

“How'd you…” Harry begun, but saw the map still in her hands, shaking his head as a sad smile formed. “I should have been more careful.”

“Is this what you've been up to? I noticed that certain times you were away, even if it wasn't for very long.”

“Well, I wanted to learn to dance. I figured best be prepared in case some girl ropes me into going to the dance.” Harry added a nervous laugh, suddenly becoming well aware of Hermione's flushed cheeks, feeling them start to come up on his own.

“What in the world are you using,” asked Hermione, looking over at the now stilled image of her in a pose for moving in a graceful step curiously. Harry looked over at the image and laughed.

“Well, they're called from what I can tell `Wizarding Dance Mats,' for `the wizard who's been cursed with two left feet.'”

They both shared a laugh, tension suddenly building between the two as they each became acutely aware that they were alone in this room and that the lighting in the room seemed to now spotlight on the two. Harry turned off the pad as he headed out of the room, but Hermione stopped him, holding him back slightly.

“Why use me as an instructor?”

Harry tried to find a suitable answer that wouldn't fully embarrass him. Thinking very hard and thoughtfully, he replied “Because I needed a good instructor. And who better to teach me something than you?”

Hermione let go of Harry, who breathed out a sigh of relief. It had been too close. He came really close to revealing his feelings for her, which was something he didn't want to do. It wasn't that he truly believed that Hermione would be with Ron always, as he was aware of how their relationship had ended. But it was more to do with the fear for Hermione - she was muggle-born, and already a big target of Voldemort just from her heritage. Because she was also Harry's friend, it elevated her to right near the top as well. But if Voldemort had figured out that Hermione was Harry's true love… Harry shuddered at the thought of what could happen to her.

Hermione meanwhile was confused about his words. She didn't rally believe that it was simply because he wanted an instructor, or - she reasoned - perhaps she only WANTED to not believe that he only wanted an instructor. She desperately wanted to reveal her love for him, but something always just kept her back. She couldn't put her finger on why - perhaps her nature to want others to show first, her need to feel loved before loving. But even that she knew wasn't true - when Harry had tried to shut himself off from everyone during the beginning of the summer she had done her hardest to pull him back. She fretted constantly over him, worrying about him until she got word from him that he was okay.

The next few days after the incident went about in a haze for Harry. Realizing that she knew where to look for him when he decided to steal away for a few minutes, Harry looked for different spots to hide away, if only to daydream. The boys dormitory was still open to girls, so he couldn't really hide in there; the Room of Requirement was now common knowledge for Hermione to check, and Harry doubted there was a student alive that was brave enough yet to deal with the dungeons, considering they would have to deal with Professor Snape. But luckily, Harry was given a perfect chance to hide away for a few hours - a Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, and while Hermione and Ginny had decided to go together for “a special package” as Hermione had put it, Harry would stay over at the school for a while, heading towards the tree by the lake to give himself time to gather his thoughts. Why am I being such a coward? Harry thought to himself. I'm in Gryffindor, aren't I? House of the brave? But Harry knew why he wasn't going to say anything - his deep-seated fear of rejection, having experienced it all his life while he lived with the Dursleys. Plus, most of the girls had only looked up to him as a name. Would Hermione be different? But even that small nagging part of the brain that had given that thought a small voice was shut out by the rest of Harry; she hadn't treated him any differently since she had been friends with him - on the contrary, often times she said the things he needed to hear and did the actions that needed to be done so that Harry would snap out of his depressions, unlike most people who simply acquiesced to his every wish.

In Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ginny had been gathering sweets and looking at the different gift shops that were along the way to their real destination, a shop that they hoped no one would catch them dead at. It was a post place similar in regards to the Owl Office, but different in two different ways - firstly, the letters could be held until a certain day to be delivered; and secondly, the places was devoted to love letters. When Ginny had told Hermione about wanting to send Harry an invite for the dance earlier that year, Hermione had used it as an excuse to send one of her own. Hermione knew that while Ginny still slightly pined for Harry, that it was ebbing away with the fact that he was too wrapped up in what Voldemort was doing to really pay any proper attention to girls. Their business taken care of, Hermione and Ginny went back to shopping, totally unaware of how many girls were going to be doing the exact same thing they were.

The next few months at the school were interesting; Neville had melted two cauldrons in his N.E.W.T. standard Potions class, Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw at Quidditch as well as Hufflepuff when Draco's team called for a schedule change after one of their players had come “mysteriously ill,” and Harry was actually being recognized by the students and teachers alike as quickly gaining the ground academically between himself and Hermione. Quite annoyed with this one day, Draco Malfoy, who - according to the student body's gossip - had been asked by four different girls, was having a wonderful time taunting and jeering at the one topic that was sensitive to Harry; Harry's inability to find a date to the dance.

“The famous Potter can't even find himself a date? I'd have thought you'd have found even a blast-ended skrewt by now. How sad.” Draco had been saying with a long drawl while behind him was a gleeful Pansy Parkinson in the Great Hall. Harry had been staring glumly down at his plate when he heard a loud slap echo throughout the halls. Looking up, he saw Hermione breathing in and out very heavily while Draco was holding his face, Pansy giving Hermione a look of shock and loathing.

“Shut your trap, Malfoy. For your information, I've seen Harry asked out by no less than seven different girls.” Some of the various witches in the different houses starting asking around, a few looking downright embarrassed and the seven of who she spoke - two Hufflepuff 6^th years and one 3^rd year, a Ravenclaw 4^th year, a Slytherin 7^th year and two Gryffindors (a 2^nd year and Ginny) all blushed. “Harry has just chosen not to go out with anyone.”

At that moment Harry wished he could have been an animagus, transforming into a hawk or some bird so he could fly with the owls delivering the mail at that moment. A couple of parcels entered for Ron and Ginny, who would be staying behind, while a number of owls started flying towards Harry, carrying different letters all various shades of pink, red, or green. Gasping, Harry saw that each had no return address of a sort. Ron sniggered as Ginny looked on in amazement.

“Wow Harry, look at all these invites.” She scanned through one, suddenly becoming apprehensive as she grabbed one out of the bundle. She looked nervously at it. Harry gave her a confused look.

“What's up Ginny?”

“Oh, n - nothing,” she replied as she tore the letter, suddenly staring down at her food quite intently. Harry simply shrugged. Ron meanwhile had opened quite a few.

“Listen to these Harry - You are the most handsome wizard I've met… I hope that you and I could go together to the ball… Our houses maybe enemies… Blimey…”

“What,” Harry asked nervously.

“I think I know who this is from,” Ron said, handing the letter to Harry while suddenly behind him Hermione turned a brilliant scarlet shade. Excusing herself quickly, Hermione exited the Hall while Harry looked over the letter. There was no mistaking Hermione's lovely handwriting.

Oh my dear gorgeous Harry

How I've watched you from afar, doing such innocent things as placing a quill to your lovely, full lips as you ponder what you wish to put down to words. I watch in amazement when you fly quite brilliantly, always taking away my breath when you pull some spectacular dive for your Snitch. I love watching you laugh, the way your eyes light up. I've fallen deeply for you Harry, and I can't seem to tell you face to face.

I know you've dealt with hardships and troubles in your life, and I have been lucky enough to be there to comfort you, to give you warmth and strength when you were cold and filled with doubt. I've longed for the days when you and I could hold one another close. You, much like Ron, have been quite the naïve, oblivious fool I've grown to love over the years. In case you haven't gotten yet Harry Potter, I am in love with you, and would love to be with you, even if we have to deal with poverty and the death of everyone we know and love.

Your own

Bookworm

Harry re-read the letter once more, making sure he had read it correctly. His heart had leaped for joy. She loves me! Harry had always felt that emotion, but to see it finally confirmed was more than he can take. He ignored for a moment that familiar feeling that it would be dangerous, running out of the Hall after Hermione. He caught up with her just as she was preparing to enter the Common Room. He held her back, and she stiffened slightly, then turning around began to shake uncontrollably.

“I've been such the fool,” they both said at the same time. Hermione gave a shaky laugh, but following Harry's full throated, roaring laugh she followed suite as well. Shortly thereafter, following the declarations of love and idiocy, Harry and Hermione enjoyed each other's company away from everyone else, the feeling of warmth they got from a simple look at each other enough for them. As they made their way through the doors of the Great Hall on the night of the Yule Ball, everyone who saw them almost unanimously voted them “Cutest Couple” and “Best Dancers” (Draco and Pansy being the only people at Hogwarts to vote for themselves). At the last topic, Harry and Hermione shared a secret laugh. Or what they thought was secret, for all the while, the only one who winked at the two during their laugh with a mischievous glint in his eye was Dumbledore, his face telling them nothing and everything as they enjoyed the night and each other.