Quiet, Plain, Perfect
By: GracieInGreek
"I'm sad he's not here with us. We should have made him stay."
"His parents wanted him home. What could we do?"
Hermione sniffed a little, shifting her body over the small bits of paper
here and there so she was on her back, her hair a pillow as she situated her
head under the Christmas tree. She chewed her lip a little. "He probably
thinks we just wanted to be alone together. He thinks that's why we didn't
go with him."
"Well..." said Harry's voice, before there was a hand slipping under
Hermione's shoulders, and a head, dark hair mussed with sleep, appearing next
to hers, looking up at all of the lights glinting through the lush, green
needles. "There's...a small grain of truth in that, isn't there?"
"Well, yes." She put her hand on Harry's stomach to slip up under his jumper
about an inch or two. A natural movement, so practiced and easy through the
last months. She sighed. "But we certainly don't want him to know that. We
promised never to freeze him out."
"And we're not," came Harry's simple reply, making Hermione glance over at
him, eyebrows twitching a little at the sight of all of the lights,
green-yellow-red-white all twitching and flashing in Harry's glasses, his
eyes still looking straight up. It made her shift closer to him.
"His parents wanted him home, but you know they're still shaken over me and
Ginny. And you and Ron. And now...you and me. It wouldn't have been fair to
them. And besides..." His arm slid from under her shoulders to the small of
her back, hugging her to his side.
Hermione pressed her hand into his stomach a bit more, still watching his
face. Her brows twitched again. "Besides what?"
"Besides." Harry continued, still not taking his eyes away from the
twinkling sight above him--but he did hold her a bit closer, squeezing her
middle. He paused a moment.
"I love Ron. You know that. But...I've never had this before. A
quiet Christmas morning, plain. Me and someone I love, laying next to each
other on the ground with paper crumpling under our backs. No running around,
no people--no Dudley screaming. No cleaning, no being in some cold room
alone. I mean--I've had Christmas at Hogwarts, obviously. And a few at the
Weasleys'. But nothing quite like this--quiet. Plain. Just me and...and you.
Just me and you, laying down together and just...looking up from under a
Christmas tree. I've never done that. I've never had...this kind of quiet."
Hermione was still staring at his face, her mouth curved open--and now tears
were starting to stream from her eyes, from dryness or emotion or both.
She opened her mouth wider to speak, but soon found she couldn't find a verbal
response to something like that--she solved her own dilemma, though, as she,
with tears starting to pool at the nape of her neck and twigs breaking off
into her hair, propped herself up on an elbow and kissed his cheeks and
mouth.
Only when the tree started to shiver dangerously with their movements and
shower them with needles and the occasional plain green or red ornament did
they break apart, Hermione staying half on top of his chest. She sniffed,
and placed his fallen glasses back on his nose and wiped her tears from his
cheeks.
He sighed, contently she supposed, and hugged her hard to him again, her
hand slipping back up under his sweater.
"...Can I ask you something, though, Hermione?"
She swiped a thumb under his eye again. "Of course."
"...Why exactly are we lying under a Christmas tree?"
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