Unofficial Portkey Archive

This page is not affiliated in any way with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, Bloomsbury, or any other entity that has something to do with Harry Potter. If you would like to visit their official pages, please go to the links page and find the link you would enjoy. Also, no money or profit is intended or made from these pages. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and are her property. No infringement is intended. Pages are for entertainment purposes only.

The Christmas Gift by Innermurk

Harry was staring out the window, his face an expressionless mask. Hermione hated seeing him that way. He knew it, too, and he had taken to hiding from her. She stood hesitantly, not wanting him to run away, but not daring to announce her presence. A moment later her indecision was at an end.

"You can come in, Hermione," Harry said dully, still staring out the frosting window.

"How did you know?" she asked, letting out her breath.

He made a vague gesture towards the doorway. "The light," he said.

"Oh, of course." She came a little closer thinking that he hadn't answered, not really.

He let out a sigh and turned stoically around. "Is dinner ready?"

"Not yet." She took a couple more steps towards him. "What are you doing up here in the dark?"

"Nothing."

She smiled wanly and said, "Mind if I join in?"

"Hermione, I-"

"Is it Ginny?"

"What?"

"You've been sequestering yourself away from everyone since you last saw her at Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes. That was just a dream. It's over."

"Not if you don't want it to be." She fell silent at his stare. "Well, then, is it Voldemort?"

He turned back to the window. She bit her lip, and waited for his answer, but it didn't come.

"I'm sorry, Harry." When he remained silent, she got up and walked to the door. "Would you like to join us downstairs?"

He shook his head slightly, his gaze riveted on something in the darkness. "If you change your mind, you're always welcome. No questions asked." She stood, her hand on the knob, but he didn't move. She patted the doorframe twice, and then swung the door almost shut, and returned to the kitchen downstairs.

"Hey!" Ron smiled at her as she entered. "Is he up there brooding?"

She nodded, looking at the floor. Her lip was between her teeth, and she was hiding the tears in her eyes with her eyelashes.

Ron's smile faded. "Hey," he said lowering his voice. "He'll be ok. He's 'The Chosen One' remember? Just let him stew it out, and he'll come 'round and get down to business. We've already sorted out those Horcruxes."

Her head flew up, and a familiar stony look had entered her watery eyes. "Ronald! Sometimes, I could just smack you." Ron looked taken aback as Hermione stared at him, her arms crossed.

"What?"

"That's your big solution? Leave him alone until he remembers he's our Savior and has his duty? What if he needs us?"

"Then he'd come and ask-"

"No he wouldn't! He isn't going to endanger anyone on his own wishes!"

"We've already-"

"And he thinks about that all the time! We could already have died! He doesn't want to ask us to do it again!"

"But we never saw it that way. We always made him take us-"

"Of course! Which is why he's staying away from us! He wants to distance himself!"

"Well, what can I do about it? If he doesn't want us-"

"Of course he wants us! He doesn't want us hurt, but he needs us!"

"Or you think he does."

She stood shocked, her mouth open. "You don't?" she asked shakily.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know what's going to happen now," he growled. "You don't have any more artifacts to research, and I've done all the cartography and navigation I could. All that's left is to make a diversion."

She stood silently, her brow furrowed. "Of course," she breathed. "And that really would be deadly, being bait."

Ron frowned too, but before he could say anything, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway and up the stairs. "Hermione, I'm not a child!" he whispered furiously pulling his hand out of her grasp. "I'm perfectly capable of walking, if you would just tell me that we were coming this way."

"Quiet!" she hissed, grasping his arm firmly and continuing to tug him down the hallway. "Harry needs us, and we have to make him see that! Then we have to find out what we can do, and-"

"Look, if you want to talk to Harry again, that's fine, but I can walk on my own!" He planted his feet on the floorboards and leaned back while pushing Hermione's hand away.

"Ron, quit being such a prat! This isn't the time for-"

"It's never my time, is it?" he hissed back. "Isn't that why we broke up? You're always more concerned about Harry!"

She narrowed her eyes and growled, "Well, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but not…look, leave him alone and he'll come out when he's good and ready."

"This isn't healthy! He needs us!"

"What do you want me to do, Hermione? You couldn't get him out!"

"I thought, just maybe, you might go talk to him. You haven't even tried!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Ron stomped down the hall and up the second staircase to where Sirius used to live. The Grimmauld Place house had undergone a transformation, and it was more homey, but the halls could still be dark and lonely. As Ron got closer, he slowed down, and quieted his footsteps. He was a bit uncomfortable, and he didn't want to see Harry crying or anything.

He pushed the door open, and peeked in the room. Harry was sitting by the window. "Hey, mate?" Ron glanced out the hall to see Hermione striding up. "Uh…'sokay you know. Everythingsgoingtobeok."

"What?" Harry turned from the window his face neutral.

Ron was shoved inside the room and Hermione appeared behind him. "Ron meant that things will be better than they seem now. And we think that we should talk." She looked pointedly at Ron and walked over to seat herself in the chair she'd drug over earlier.

Ron heaved a sigh and said, "Uh…you know, if you want to." Hermione's glare blazed across the room and he winced. "Well, you should, you know, 'cuz we're your friends," he finished lamely, sitting down backwards on the nearest chair.

Harry suppressed a small smile. "Thanks. But, really, I don't think-"

"Well, at least we tried, eh?" Ron jumped up from his seat and chattered, "A man's got to have time to think these things through on his own, I was just telling Hermione that. She seemed to think differently, but then, she is a girl, so what does she know."

"Ronald! Sit down!"

"Look, I-"

"Stow it, Harry. No more excuses. You've had plenty of time to do your manly sulking! Now we're going to talk!"

Both boys turned towards her, mouths hanging open. "I'm sick of all the posturing! Voldemort -stop it Ron-is not sitting around brooding, and we know that we have to strike fast, before he finds out that he's out of Horcruxes and tries to make more! We simply don't have time for nonsense, or surprises. So we need to know what's going on. We need to plan. We need to talk. We need you, Harry, in order to do this, so are you going to leave us now?"

Harry gaped at her. "What do you mean? You need me? It's my job to kill Voldemort!"

"No, Harry," Hermione contradicted haughtily. "I set myself against Voldemort's terrorism. It's my job to keep my world safe. I am going to do everything in my power to stop him before he can damage it beyond repair. You can either help me, or sit here brooding, and I'd rather have you and Ron on my side, but if I have to, I'll be going on alone."

Ron stared, and then added, "Uh, yeah. Me too."

Harry shook his head, his voice deepened as he said loudly, "You can't just go off and confront Voldemort! He'll kill you! The Prophecy-"

"Pish!" Hermione scoffed, waving her hand. "I'm not sitting around waiting for some seer to dictate my life to me. If I want to eat, I have to fix my dinner. If I want a nice safe world to live in, I have to uphold my values, and oppose those who would take away my freedom. If he takes away my life, it's better than living in his tyranny. It's simple, Harry. Now, we can work together, or we can each do our own thing, but I really think it's better to all be on the same page."

"You can't really mean that you want to put yourself in my place, and go face him."

"No, Harry. I'm not going to put myself in your place. You have a very special place. No one but you can fill that. But that doesn't mean that I don't have my place."

"He's dangerous."

"Yes," she said grimly. "But we've faced all the previous obstacles, and lived, Harry. And I expect to be with you. You've faced him before."

Harry's head dropped again at these words. His voice shook a little as he said, "I know. I can't afford to lose. You-the world depends on it."

Ron shifted in his seat and looked longingly at the hallway.

A frown flitted across Hermione's face, and she said, "No one, not even the world, can depend on one person, Harry. You can only depend on yourself. It doesn't matter what other people expect from you. What do you expect from yourself? That's what matters."

"What if I lose?" he asked quietly, wringing his hands.

"If you died-" her voice caught and she shuddered. "Dumbldore always said that there were much worse things…"

He smiled ironically and said, "I'm not talking about dying, Hermione. I'm talking about losing."

"Well, it amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?"

"No."

"How's that? According to the Prophecy, the only way you can lose is if he kills you."

He shivered and whispered, "I can not go. I can hide and stay away from him jumping from place to place for the rest of my life."

She shook her head. "He would eventually come looking. Is that what you want to do, Harry? Let him come and take over everything that you love? Killing everything that gets in his way?"

Harry looked at her, for the first time, and she was shocked to see tears coursing down his face. "I'm scared," he whispered. "It sounds really stupid, I know, but I'm terrified. And the more I try to push that fear down, the more it multiplies, and grows, and the more I feel it. I don't know what to do! I can't get rid of it! It follows me around! It coats me! I can't escape it, no matter how I try!" He was writhing in shame, almost hysterical now, and Hermione shook herself out of her surprise, as Ron sprinted towards the door.

"It's alright, Harry!" she said firmly, waving her wand and trapping Ron in the room. "We would think you were insane if you weren't scared! We're scared too! Aren't we, Ron?"

He nodded his head, and said softly, "Yeah, mate. I'm terrified, right now."

Harry chuckled softly.

Hermione smiled and said, "Well, if you want to go and cook us dinner then you may be excused for now, Ronald."

His mouth dropped in horror, and he plunked down in the chair again. "Well, you know, you might need me…"

Harry laughed.

Hermione scooted closer and took his hand. "Fear is perfectly normal, Harry. It doesn't have to own you. You can control it."

"I'm not supposed to be scared! I'm The Chosen One! Who ever heard of the chosen one being rooted to the ground in terror? It's ludicrous! And, it's-"

"It's what?"

"It's-" Harry looked helplessly at Ron.

Ron was staring determinedly at the floor.

"Ron, tell him that men feel fear." Hermione demanded.

Ron paled a bit, and looked Harry in the eye. "Sure. My Dad says stuff like that all the time now. It's like, war, and stuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No offense, but your Dad says that stuff to your Mum, and his family, and he isn't exactly sitting around quaking in his boots. And he's not, well, he's not some super hero that's supposed to save the world." Harry muttered.

Ron nodded quickly averting his eyes back to the floor.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Hermione grumbled. "Harry, you're not infallible, you know. You're human. And you can feel things that any human feels. You're not some super hero that's made of steel, or stone, or any other barmy thing! You're you!"

Harry sighed and turned back to the window. "You may be the only one to see it that way, Hermione."

Ron stood again and raced to the door. "Well…done all we could do, got some stuff, don't really need me-" He nipped out and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's hand. "Please, Harry. No one is going to think any less of you for being scared. Anyone would be, plenty people are! Voldemort inspires terror, and your being able to feel that…it just means that you're normal. Isn't that what you always wanted? To be normal?" She gave his hand a squeeze, and smiled.

He looked into her eyes, and said, "No? And Ron?"

She smiled wider and said, "Ron's not scared of your fear. He's terrified of emotion."

Harry snorted, and then said, "And Voldemort? He's not going to be shaking in terror when we meet."

"Yes, he is," she stated firmly. "He's been terrified of you since you were born, Harry. Voldemort may be full of evil and hatred, but he's also full of fear, and he's been running from it all his life."

Harry looked at her, confusion and doubt swimming in his eyes.

"He's so scared of Death, that he's ripped his soul to pieces in order to evade it, Harry. Destroying his eternal life, while mistakenly trying to save his temporal one. He's let his fear destroy him. He handed himself to Death piece by piece, thinking that he was escaping it."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"You've already won, Harry. Voldemort has destroyed himself. He let his fear drive him to it."

She watched him as the hope blossomed out, blotting out the terror from behind his eyes. His pupils widened, almost hiding the deep green that she was familiar with. His posture straightened slowly, and his face lightened, smoothing out the worry that had creased his forehead. She could see him processing the information that she'd given him, see him conquer the all consuming panic that had held him. He tipped his head to one side, his lips quirked up a couple of times to a half-smile and then back into a stiff resolve. His fingers curled around hers, and he focused on her face.

She leaned forward, and put her cheek on his, whispering in his ear. "You may be flesh, Harry, but your soul is intact, and it is as strong as steel."

He turned, and cupped her face with his other hand. "Thank you, Hermione. I'll be OK now." He brushed his lips against hers, in a light and tender kiss.

Then, he got up, and walked down to the kitchen.

It was Christmas Eve. Hermione was pacing the living room restlessly. Harry and Ron were supposed to be here. They'd been out earlier, looking for team members, and trying to coordinate an attack that would occur after Boxing Day, if possible. They had split up in order to get the message to the DA members, and she had been the first to arrive back at the Burrow.

Ginny looked up from where she was sitting on the floor, playing with Arnold, her miniature pygmy puff. "Hermione, please. They'll be here on time for Christmas. Now, you can tell me more about this popcorn stringing."

Hermione smiled wanly, and sat down next to Ginny, scaring Arnold under the couch. "Do you have any popcorn? Cranberries?"

"Let's just make some!" Ginny flipped her wand, and two bowls appeared. Hermione joined in, and filled the bowls from her wand, and then conjured some thread and two needles. She took up the needle and demonstrated to Ginny on how to unsuccessfully string three pieces of popcorn and then one cranberry. They were laughing merrily at their failed attempts to keep something intact on a string when Ron came in.

Hermione jumped up, and Ginny stood giggling, as cranberries and popcorn flew everywhere. "Where's Harry?" Hermione shrieked, as she ran towards him.

Ginny frowned slightly, and said loudly and a bit over-brightly, "Hi Ron! Happy Christmas!"

He smiled at her, and returned the greeting, and then grabbed Hermione's shoulders and drug her from the doorway. "He's not with me, Hermione. He'll be along. Now, what is it that you two are doing?" He frowned at the mess on the floor, as Mrs. Weasley came in dusting her hands on her apron and inquiring what all the noise was about.

"Hello, Ron, dear!" she said hugging him.

"Hi, Mum," he replied, returning her hug. "Happy Christmas. Where is everyone?"

"Bill and Fleur will be along shortly. The twins won't be coming in till late, they want to keep the shop open as long as possible. Charlie will be coming in tomorrow for dinner, and your Dad should be home soon." Her lips pursed briefly. Arthur had been working longer and longer hours since the war had started, and he practically lived at the Ministry these days, but he'd promised his family to be home for Christmas. "We'll have a whole day with family!" Molly exclaimed happily.

"As soon as Harry gets here," muttered Hermione, craning around Ron to see through the window.

Molly frowned slightly at Hermione, and fretted over Ron for a few more seconds before returning to her pies. Ginny was picking popcorn out of the carpet, and silently tossing the pieces back in the bowl. Ron went over to the couch and dropped down, causing a distressed Arnold to shoot across the room, upsetting both the popcorn bowl, and Ginny who started shrieking about how Ron could have crushed him.

Hermione slipped out the door to scan the skies and the yard for signs of Harry.

It was full dark, and most of the Weasleys were sitting in the living room, trying to enjoy the company, and the evening. Ron crept out, grabbing a blanket and his winter cloak, closing the front door quietly behind him.

It had been difficult to tell his family that Hermione wasn't his girlfriend anymore. It had been even worse telling them that she was Harry's. Ginny had taken the news rather well, though. She had cried, but then she'd said that if Ron could deal while living with them, she could deal, too. And who knew? They'd probably break up in the end. Ron doubted that, but she would see when she saw them together, so he'd remained silent.

Mrs. Weasley was quieter than Ron had expected. After asking him if he was truly alright with the situation and being reassured that he was happy for them, she seemed to simply accept it. But, she hadn't asked after either Harry or Hermione, yet, so he figured she might still need some time to get used to it.

Ron glanced around the dark yard. The moon was new, and clouds covered the stars. He was about to call out when he spotted her. She was standing at the far side of the yard, by the broom shed, hugging herself to keep warm. Her silhouette stood out against the grey darkness of the snow.

He came up behind her, and slid the blanket around her shoulders. "No sign?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, her eyes peering into the dark lane.

"He'll be here."

She nodded.

"Aren't you frozen?"

"Do they hate me?"

"What?"

"Your Mum, Ginny, do they hate me?"

"No, of course not. You're family."

She turned. "Do you?"

"You've been out in the cold too long." He put his arms around her, and rubbed her arms rapidly, building heat.

"I can't help loving him, Ron."

"I know." He pulled her into a hug. "You're freezing, and you're worried."

She snuggled closer trying to stop shivering.

"I love him too," he continued. "But, I know what you meant. And I've seen you two together. You sort of belong with each other. I love you both, and I'm happy for you. Really."

She sighed and buried her head into his shoulder. "Ron, I-I'm so glad that we have you, too."

He smiled and hugged her tighter. "See? We're all family, no matter what."

She gently broke the embrace, and turned around. "Where could he be? If only I knew where to look, I would. I'm going to kill him for going off on his own!"

"You think he went after, V-You Know Who?" Ron squeaked.

"I just don't know!" she wailed, sobbing into her hands. "We had it all planned! Why would he do this!?"

"Because he loves you, too."

She sniffed.

"He'll be here. It's Christmas," was all Ron said, putting one arm around her shoulders and grasping his cloak together around his neck with the other.

They stood out by the shed searching the darkness together.

The sun was rising.

It was snowing.

It was Christmas day.

A beautiful golden haze lay over the Burrow and it's surrounding area, a product of the sunlight filtering through the tiny misty flakes swirling in the air. It looked as though the world was glowing with a brilliant molten halo.

Hermione was on the couch, which was pulled right up to the big picture window in the living room. She was asleep. Her hair was pillowed around her, and a blanket was tucked around her chin. She was curled up, and leaning on Ron, who was sprawled out, his limbs every which way, mouth hanging open, and a slight scruff of stubble starting on his chin.

Harry smiled at the sight of his two best friends asleep at their vigil.

It was a beautiful day.

Voldemort was gone, and it was Christmas.

Harry tapped on the window, causing both Ron and Hermione to start up and blink owlishly at him, trying to rise from the depths of sleep.

"Happy Christmas!" he shouted through the glass.

Ron grinned broadly, as Hermione shrieked and fled the couch to come around and get at him. She flew through the door, causing a small blizzard as she whirled into his arms. The golden snow rose around them, blotting out the Weasley observers, and leaving them alone in the world on a beautiful Christmas morning.

They kissed, a long deep and passionate kiss filled with the love they had discovered in each other.

When they broke apart, they smiled at each other, and Harry cupped Hermione's face in his hands. "I've done it. He's gone."

Tears were coursing down her face, and she was trembling, but she was smiling. She was beautiful.

"What a wonderful Christmas present!"

He grinned ruefully. "Yeah, freedom, salvation, the slaying of evil, kinda been done before, but it's always a good way to say I love you."

She giggled, and said, "No, I mean, coming home. What a wonderful Christmas present!"

He gathered her in for another kiss, and then they walked back to the happy greetings of all the Weasleys. They were going home.