Merry Christmas, Hermione

Just a quick-fic. This idea just smashed into my head when I was reading, and I just couldn't get rid of it. It took me about two hours to write; I had huge problems formulating this. I hope you appreciate all my work.

Merry Christmas, Hermione

Harry bit his lip as he walked down the street. He really should have done it by now. What was his problem anyway? He'd done this before! …But then again, he'd never get used to it.

He took a deep breath as he passed the flower shop once again. It was the third time he passed that flower shop, but he still couldn't muster the courage to walk in…

Harry sighed, making his breath come out as smoke. It was rather chilly outside, but it was Christmas after all.

Just do it! Harry ordered himself. He took another deep breath and entered the small flower shop as he was about to pass it for the fourth time.

He took a good look around the shop, ignoring the curious looks from the cashier.

“Would you like any help?” The young woman behind the counter suddenly asked.

Harry pushed up his glasses slightly. “Uh, no thanks. I'd just want a red rose…” Yes, a simple red rose would be nice. Hermione would appreciate it.

The young woman smiled. “Are you sure? We have a discount on rose bouquets, by more than ten…”

Harry shook his head. “No thanks, one rose is enough.” Yes, one rose was enough: Hermione never had been much for those overly huge bouquets, or those silly flower formations. No, plain was more Hermione. A simple red rose, simple jewelry…

The woman nodded and took out one simple red rose. “Do you want to take the rose like this, or should I wrap it up?”

“Just… the way it is, please.” Harry glanced at his watch; if he didn't hurry, he'd be late. Harry quickly paid for the rose. A rather high price for such a simple rose, he though, but then again; Hermione was worth it.

Carefully, he picked up the rose from the counter and walked outside. The chill outside hit his face like slap. He'd just started to get warm when he had to go outside again…

Harry walked down the street in a quick pace, bumping in to innocent people as he strode in a hurry, glancing at his watch once in while. He didn't want to get late; Hermione wouldn't like that.

Suddenly he stood a halt in front of an old gate. He took a deep breath before gently pushing it open. The old gate opened slowly; giving out a low creak which seemed to cut through the eerie silence like a knife. Harry winced before walking through the horrible iron gates.

With a determined look on his face Harry walked forward on the old gravel walk. He glanced at the rose and noticed it had almost become pink because of the frost. Now he almost wished he'd let the young cashier wrap the poor rose.

Suddenly, Harry walked of from the gravel walk and stopped. He drew a nervous hand through his hair, straightened his glasses and fingered slightly on his rose before taking a step forward.

Harry could feel his eyes fill with tears at the sight before him: Hermione's tombstone. She had died so young… It had been many years now; but he still hadn't gotten over her.

He reached out with his hand; touching the old letters. Carefully he let his fingers trace over the faded gold words. Friendship, Bravery… and Love.

Harry shut his eyes for a moment; it was still painful for him to see. He took another deep breath before opening his eyes again. He smiled weakly and reached down; placing the red rose on her grave.

“MerryChristmas, Hermione.” He said, as he felt one lone tear trickle down his cheek.

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