Once upon a Christmas

IslandPrincess1

Rating: G
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 13/12/2005
Last Updated: 13/12/2005
Status: in_progress

"Had Harry ever spent his snowfalls, winters and Christmases in there wishing that his parents were with him? Dreaming and imagining the kind of days she carelessly enjoyed or ignored? Wishing and hoping someone would wake him to go out and play in the snow? That took some of the magic out of the moment." I felt for something with Christmas, heh. Couldn't let go of the need for angst, however slight too.

Chapters

1. --

1. --

A/N: Not exactly fluff, not exactly angst, but please do enjoy. May post a second part, update to The Last of the House of Black to come soon.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Who knows, maybe on Christmas I'll find the deed under the tree, until then it isn't mine.

Once upon a Christmas

Soundlessly falling, the tiny snowflakes blanketed the earth purest white. They swirled and sailed on the wind, danced to the tinkling music of icicles on the roof edges and poured from the heavens in blinding flurries. Landing on the nose or cheeks they tickled and chilled to blush, in hair they clung like insects in a spider web, on clothes and the trees they spread like dust. The symbols of winter, no two the same, and all was cold, they spread themselves over the still slumbering, darkened earth. And to Hermione standing on the back steps of the Potter house serenely watching it all, it was beautiful.

She had been asleep when it started snowing. So thoroughly exhausted she was that she had gone to bed early the night before. She could only hope that her friends had not really noticed her fatigue, the last thing she needed was a trip to the Burrow. Then it was only when she had woken moments before to go to the bathroom that she noticed it.

Ron and Harry were no doubt still deep in well-deserved sleep, and she hadn't the heart to disturb them even for this. The constant fight of the War at hand had the tendency to take one's strength; they needed every opportunity at rest they could get.

She never really slept anymore though so tonight had been a bit of a surprise for her body. She had lost the will to for fear that when next she opened her eyes it would be over and they would have lost. She had sworn too that she would never let them know this. In addition to sleep they did not need to worry, and especially over trifle things like her.

But back to the snow, she thought of the times when she was younger. When there was no Hogwarts, or Voldemort, or even the knowledge of the Wizarding world and magic existed only in silly fairytales. When she would wake to snow on the ground, the anticipation of nearing Christmas and the books she would receive, and the gifts she would give in return. When she could build a snow man with her father, watch the other children snowball fight and ponder their silly belief in this “Santa Claus”. When, and she realised this sadly, there was no Harry.

It was not his fault that this was happening, that he was being hunted and on the hunt, that the simple sight of snowfall was heavenly when it would have previously been ignored. But then, those snowfalls, those winter times, those Christmastimes were not stolen, they were her rights. Then, standing on the back steps of a house she would not be looking around her from the corners of her eyes. Then, she would not be apprehensive of her view. Then, she would not have had a care in the world.

But, like the old saying goes, that was then.

Now, she was freezing slightly standing here. In her woollen pyjamas she had simply snatched her coat, hat, gloves and scarf and rushed out the door. She did not know for how much longer she would be able to stand the icy air slicing through her pants as if they were not there. She wasn't sure that the flush from cold would fade from her face long after she went back in. She didn't even think that this was really a good idea no matter the fact that no one really knew or had even guessed that they were here. But somehow, watching this snowfall, she could suppress the need to care.

She wondered if her parents could see or were watching this snowfall with her now. She had a feeling Mrs Weasley certainly was, it was doubtful she would do much else than look out as long as Ron was with them. If her parents were though, she wished, as the only gift she could give them this year that they knew she loved and missed them as much as they did her. If anything at all, she wished they knew that.

And then her thoughts wandered to that dark place. That horrible, dark cupboard Ron had showed her, much to Harry's chagrin, beneath the stairs.

Had Harry ever spent his snowfalls, winters and Christmases in there wishing that his parents were with him? Dreaming and imagining the kind of days she carelessly enjoyed or ignored? Wishing and hoping someone would wake him to go out and play in the snow?

That took some of the magic out of the moment.

After going through all that, and with the horrible mess that was Hogwarts sometimes, for her not to wake him to enjoy this too… that was inexcusable. If it wasn't for Voldemort he would have known days like that in this very house. Now was probably going to be his only chance at it again. How could she deny him this?

The snowfall forgotten she turned and slipped quietly back into the house. The snow on her melted almost immediately, her mind wandered to thoughts of the lack of decorations.

He and Ron slept in the living room while she had the spare bedroom downstairs. He was on the couch and Ron was on the loveseat and in the dark it was difficult to properly tell one from the other. Directed by sound, Ron's louder, roof-rattling snores to the quiet breathing of Harry, she found him though. It didn't take much to shake him awake either, he was a light sleeper, and woke with a jerk to her touch.

She put her finger to her lips and whispered, “Shh, I have something I want to show you.”

In the dark he squinted at her, she found his glasses and handed it over and whispered again, “Get your coat, its cold out.”

He didn't seem too interested in questioning her, didn't even say a word as she led him down the hall to the backdoor and handed over his warm outdoor clothes. When they were standing on the back steps and the chill had taken him though, he asked sleepily, “W-what… what did you want to show me?”

“The snow,” was the reply.

She smiled at him and looked up at the black night sky above them letting the snowflakes sprinkle over her face and bushy hair. The flurries had lessened to a light snowfall that floated lazily to the ground. She stuck out her tongue and captured a frosty cluster that melted much too quickly.

He just stood staring at her, and then asked with annoyance, “That's all?”

She looked back down at him in shock.

After debating the decision to wake him for as long as she could? After reasoning that he needed sleep more than she did and could miss the freezing snow? After sneaking in there and freeing him from Ron, who had become a bit of a bodyguard these days that was all he had to say?

And then he smirked, “The look on your face just now… you…”

He never finished it, fury overtaking her she snatched his arms and shoved him, hard. He toppled from the steps and landed with a gratifying “plop” into the thick white blanket in the backyard.

She stifled a giggle.

He sat up, covered in snow, wide-eyed and shivering. His glasses were frosted over, snowflakes clung to his messy hair and chin whitening them and in his red jacket… well, if ever there was a Santa Claus, he looked just like him.

The giggle escaped her and then she burst into laughter, forgetting Ron asleep within and the apprehension of earlier. It was so silly really, so absolutely silly the way he looked then she couldn't help herself. Maybe she should wake Ron too, he would love this.

And then Harry reached up a hand and pulled her into the snow with him.

The magic had returned.

When she sat up now, as snow-covered as he, he laughed, “Hi Mrs Claus, did you miss your footing?”

She glared at him, pushed him over and tried to stand. He held her fast so that she plopped back down almost immediately.

She nearly screamed, “Not funny! Let me go!”

He put his finger to his lips, “Shh… you'll wake Baby Claus.”

Hermione could barely believe it, was he insane? And then she snorted, “Baby Claus? Ron? Ha! Very funny… actually he is like a baby, an oversized food processor with red hair and a snore to bring down the roof, ha!”

“I'm going to tell…” Harry began, barely concealing his amusement.

“Oh no, you're not…” began Hermione, warningly.

“What're you going to do? How're you going to stop me? Hex me?” he teased.

She gave a grin worthy of a Cheshire cat.

Harry shook his head at her, and continued to laugh, “I'd like to see you try, I'll stun you before you get your wand out.”

Hermione just kept grinning at him. His laughter dropped to a grin and then faded to a smile and then fell away completely.

“Hermione… why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, and then began to back away from him.

She gave a whoop and threw herself over him, sinking him into the snow again. Before he had time to react she was packing snow unto his struggling form and laughing wildly.

At any given time he could throw her off of course. Sure he could, but he just didn't want to. What if she fell off and got hurt? How was he going to explain that to anyone? But she was going to pay for this though.

Finally her assault stopped and she cleared the snow away from his face. She smiled at him, “Hi there, having fun?”

But he didn't answer. As a matter of fact he just lay there beneath her with his eyes closed and his face red from the cold. Her smile dropped away and she worriedly, anxiously began to shake him.

“Harry? Are you alright, Harry? Harry, answer me! Harry!” she called.

There was still no answer.

“Oh gods, Harry… oh no, Harry!” she cried again, scrambling off him and pushing away the snow, trying her best to wake him.

And then he snorted at her.

As realisation hit her of what had just happened she screamed, her voice shrilly, “You! You… you fool! You had me so worried… so scared and all the while you were just faking?”

“Merry Christmas Hermione,” he told her with a grin.

She rose away from him and quietly went back into the house.

It took him less than a minute then to climb out of the snow and rush into the house behind her. As he entered he heard the door of her room close, softly but firmly behind her. He hesitated only slightly before slipping down the hall behind her and knocked on the door. Whispering as loud as he dared, he said, “Hermione… Hermione please open the door. Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you… I didn't think…”

Her voice came from the other side, also in a loud whisper, “You're right, you didn't think. That's not funny, Harry!”

“I'm sorry, I know… I just, I forgot…” he continued, his tone becoming a plea.

“I never forget…” she said softly, so softly that he barely heard it.

He fell silent where he stood a moment, and then whispered again, “I'm sorry, Hermione, I really am. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Silence greeted this, and then the door opened slightly, but only so that she could look out at him. He tried his best to look apologetic, and she closed the door in his face.

That didn't go as planned.

He made to apologise again when the door opened completely and Hermione stood, arms folded, looking at him. Coat discarded, so that she now stood in her pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved shirt, all he could say to her then was, “You're wet.”

She arched an eyebrow, looked down at herself and said, “You too, aren't you cold?”

“Yeah, but I don't mind… just a little snow…” he told her. “B-but thanks for that… I really am sorry, but thanks for that.”

She formed an unwilling smile, but he was sure it was genuine.

“I'll… uh, I'll go to bed now… so am… goodnight,” he said and turned away.

He made it halfway down the hall before she said in reply, “You're welcome, Merry Christmas Harry.”

He wanted to tell her then, “You made it that way,” but he didn't. He wasn't sure what he meant by that, what could be implied in that, so he said nothing. He was sure she knew it though.

Turning back slightly he found her still standing at the door watching him go.

He was very sure she knew it.

When he looked back, she grinned.

-->