A/N - this has been a struggle. I missed a week due to illness, a dragon boat regatta and a wedding - is that an original excuse or what? And I apologise in advance for any grammatical errors, glaring mistakes and, well, everything really. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 12 - Christmas at the Castle
"You know, peering at yourself like that isn't gonna make it grow any faster."
With a scowl, Harry looked at the foggy reflection in the bathroom mirror of Ron watching him before turning his attention once more to himself, rubbing his hand over his chin. There was definite stubble there - the only problem, it hadn't changed that much since he showed it off to Hermione months ago. There was still no reason to shave.
"Typical," Harry muttered, "they expect me to go and save the world and I can't even grow facial hair."
"I really don't understand this obsession with the need to shave," Ron replied as he came to the mirror beside Harry, got his wand out of his pant pocket, waved it over his face and the layer of ginger fuzz that had grown on his chin overnight disappeared, "it's a right pain. And being face follicly challenged, like yourself, doesn't make you less of a man."
"Oh, ha ha, very funny," Harry said, still scowling as he began to dry his hair with his towel, "just because you are mister maturity with a steady girlfriend and…"
"Bloody hell!" Ron interrupted with a yelp.
Harry immediately cleared his towel-hampered vision in time to see Ron trying to cover his bare chest from a familiar figure standing before him - Harry smiled.
"Hello Dobby," he said as he continued to dry his hair, "what brings you here?"
"Sorry to disturb you and your Wheezy, Harry Potter sir," the little elf began, his large eyes looking worriedly up at Harry, "but Dobby has some bad news…"
"I'm not his wheezy," Ron muttered darkly, "I'm no-body's wheezy..."
"Give it a rest Ron," Harry said absently before crouching down to Dobby's level, "what is it Dobby? What's wrong?"
"It's Kreacher sir…" At the sound of Kreacher's name, Harry abruptly stood - not really wanting to know about his inherited house elf.
"If this has got anything to do with house elf rights, we better get Hermione," Ron remarked as he walked past Dobby, out of the bathroom and into their dorm - Harry followed, draping his wet towel over the towel rack by the fire as he walked pass (Ron's had been discarded in a pile on the bathroom floor).
"I guess you're right," Harry agreed, putting on a shirt, "Dobby, can you get Hermione for us? We'll meet in the common area."
"Oh, Miss Hermy is already there, Harry Potter. I saw her reading."
"Of course she's already there," Ron smiled, rolling his eyes, "it's eight in the morning, Christmas break and every professor has said we can take a few days off. What else would she be doing? And Hermy…I like that."
"It's what Grawp calls her too," Harry laughed as he made his way down the stairs, "I don't think she likes it though."
"Only one way to find out," Ron grinned, following Harry with Dobby at his heels, "morning Hermy!" he called out from the landing.
Hermione's head whipped round severely as she glared at Ron
"The only people allowed to call me that is Grawp and Dobby," she snapped - Harry was sure he saw Ron flinch, "so don't you dare think that you …"
"Okay, okay," Ron surrendered, sitting down in his favourite chair, resting his walking stick next against the wall next to it, "I get the point."
"Does Miss not like her name?" Dobby asked, his ears drooping in disappointment as he stood by the chair Harry had just flopped into.
"Oh Dobby, no I love the name," Hermione quickly tried to reassure, "but I just don't like Ron calling me Hermy."
"Dobby never meant to offend…"
"She's not offended," Harry interrupted, knowing that his little friend is easily side tracked, "you were going to tell us about Kreacher."
"Kreacher?" Hermione repeated curiously, putting her book down.
"I'm so sorry Harry Potter sir," Dobby carried on, turning his large, scared-looking eyes from Hermione to Harry, "but Kreacher is dead!"
"Dead?" Ron spluttered, "where?"
"When? Hermione asked at the same time.
"How?" Harry also asked, his voice overlapping the others making Dobby look between them all in confusion.
"He…he died last night," the elf tried to explain, "we think his…his heart stopped…"
"Heart stopped?" Hermione questioned, "he had a heart attack? Was Kreacher quite old? For an elf, I mean?"
"Kreacher was not that old Miss…"
"But house elves don't just keel over with bad hearts," Ron stated with a frown, "I mean, with the work they do, they can withstand heaps!"
"What was he doing before he died Dobby?" Harry quickly asked, seeing the daggers Hermione was shooting at Ron from his offhanded comment - Ron totally oblivious.
"Nothing special Harry Potter sir," Dobby answered, his thin hands wringing nervously, "the house elves were finishing the dishes and getting ready for our beds. Kreacher, he was saying bad things again, but when Korl was telling us what he had seen, well Kreacher stopped talking and…"
"What had Korl seen?" Harry interrupted urgently. Dobby's ears drooped as looked anxiously at Harry, who saw the conflict taking place within the house elf. Dobby went to say something, but instead covered his mouth with his hand and without warning, turned and ran into the wall.
"Dobby!" Hermione cried, reaching out and grabbing the elf before he launched himself once again.
"Perhaps Korl would be better telling us," Ron suggested with a smirk as Dobby hid his face in his hands.
"Good idea," Harry agreed with a bit more compassion. Kneeling down, he looked at the now crying Dobby in the eye and said as nicely as he could, "are you able to bring Korl here for us?" The elf gave a watery nod and with a crack was gone.
Hermione got up from her spot on the carpet where she had been holding Dobby, and went back to her seat - Harry did the same.
"What do you think has got him so ruffled?" Ron asked while the other two got comfortable.
"It must be about Malfoy," Harry thought out loud, "that would be the only reason I can think of that he'd have to hurt himself."
"Malfoy?" Ron questioned, "but…" A loud crack interrupted Ron as two house elves now stood in front of the hearth.
Korl was as opposite of Dobby as you could get - short and squat with darker coloured skin and large brown eyes. He, and Harry only guessed it was a he, wore the standard Hogwarts tea towel as a toga and had a quite curly tuft of black hair sprouting from his round head. He looked absolutely terrified and was peering at Harry from behind Dobby, his bulging eyes gigantic.
"Hello Korl," Hermione welcomed, drawing the elf's eyes away from Harry, "there's no need to be scared - we won't hurt you."
"I's been telling him that Miss," Dobby explained, "but Korl cleans the dungeons and theys not nice down there."
"So it does have something to do with Malfoy then," Ron stated offhandedly - both elves physically tensed and hung onto each other grimly.
"Look Dobby," Harry quickly tried to soothe, "I know it's hard for you to talk about Malfoy, but he isn't your master anymore…"
"Yous my master!" Dobby interrupted proudly, lessening his grip on his friend.
"Well, yes, I guess so," Harry carried on uncertainly, "though you are free…"
"Because of you Harry Potter," Dobby interrupted again, this time letting go of his friend completely so he could bow, "Harry Potter freed Dobby but Dobby chooses to serve Harry Potter…."
"Right," Harry blushed furiously, "and I need to know what Kreacher heard. Korl, this is really important." All attention turned towards the small creature standing nervously behind Dobby, who gave an encouraging nod and in a squeaky, shaky voice Korl began to speak.
"Korl told the others about the white haired boy, how he was shouting at the other boys and how he didn't care about…about…" Korl faulted and looked desperately at Dobby for reassurance.
"He-who-shall-not-be-named," Dobby put in helpfully, Korl nodded thankfully.
"The white haired boy said that he had watched his mother die and…and wanted revenge…"
"Kreacher heard that sir," Dobby finished for his friend, "and he just died."
Harry looked at the two house-elves in shock - Malfoy's mother had been killed by Voldemort. The reason Malfoy was back was because he wanted revenge on the thing that he served only months before. And Kreacher had died of the shock of hearing yet another Black descendant becoming a traitor to the cause.
"Malfoy watched his mother killed," Hermione said in hushed tones, "I never thought I'd say this, but poor Malfoy."
"His family knew what they were getting into the moment they began following You-Know-Who," Ron stated sharply.
"No one deserves that Ron," Hermione fired back, "his mother was trying to save him, save her son and was killed because of it…" She stopped talking and looked at Harry, who looked wearily back. He could see the concern in her eyes that she had said something wrong, that her unintentional acknowledgement of the similarities between himself and Draco Malfoy had upset him - but strangely it hadn't. She was right, no one deserved to watch their mother die. But he felt no pity for Malfoy.
"What will happen to Kreacher?" he asked instead, ignoring both Ron and Hermione.
"Kreacher had always hoped to return to his old home," Dobby answered uncertainly, glancing between the three teenagers.
"He won't be returned to Grimmauld Place," Harry stated with certainty, his voice hard. He saw Korl shrink back a bit but he didn't particularly care - it was Harry's own act of defiance; Kreacher betrayed Sirius therefore he didn't deserve to be with his ancestors.
"Do you know where Hogwarts house-elves are buried Dobby?" Hermione asked hastily, "perhaps Kreacher could be laid to rest there? We could have a small service…"
"No," Harry snapped, angry.
"There is no way I'm attending a bloody funeral for an elf," Ron said just as smartly, his scowl matching Harry's. Hermione looked at them both with a frown of her own, before turning back to the nervous house-elves with a smile.
"Dobby, Korl, thank you for telling us," she said sweetly, 'maybe if you prepare Kreacher for a funeral here…"
"I am not going to Kreacher's funeral Hermione," Harry growled. Hermione turned to him, her eyes blazing.
"I didn't say that you had to Harry," she growled back, "Kreacher betrayed Sirius, but he was still someone we knew and he was, in a manner of speaking, yours. I will go!" They stared at each other as Harry tried to understand what she was doing and why she was doing it.
"Is this because of your stupid SPEW…" Ron ventured, paling when she turned to him.
"This is because Kreacher had a terrible life and deserves a little dignity in this final act," she spat, her face now red too, "and I'm sorry that you find equality between magical races so stupid Ron, but it just might help us win this war!" When she stood, Harry could see tears in her eyes and he was immediately concerned - why was she getting so worked up about this? Hermione made her way to the stairs in angry strides and Harry knew he had to stop her before she reached the landing. Standing quickly, he rushed to her side, grabbing her arm gently.
"Hermione, what is it?" he asked, concerned, "why are you so upset? It's only Kreacher…"
"Let me go Harry," Hermione said firmly, angrily wiping away the lone tear falling down her cheek.
"No, we need to talk about this," he reaffirmed, "and about Malfoy."
"Fine," she grumphed, shook his hand off her arm and stormed back to the couch, where she sat frowning and her arms crossed across her chest. Harry sighed deeply before returning to his chair.
"Dobby, could you let us know when things are ready," he said tiredly, "and thank you again Korl for telling us what you heard."
"Dobby understands Harry Potter," the elf said gravely and with a crack the two creatures were gone.
"So what the bloody hell is eating you Hermione?" Ron asked as soon as the room contained just the three of them, "I know you have a thing for house-elves, but, quite frankly, you've gone mental!"
"What's eating me Ronald," Hermione replied stonily, "is how death, anyone's death, is treated so lightly. What about Malfoy? His mother's death? Do we ignore that too just because we all hate him?"
"Well, I'm not planning to send him any flowers…" Ron started nonchalantly.
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, turning furiously to Harry, "do you not feel any sorrow for Draco? For what he's been through?"
"No," Harry replied after little thought, "no I don't. His family have spat on me, on us, ever since we met. His father was ready to kill us at the Ministry and Malfoy tried to kill Dumbledore. Do you understand that Hermione, he tried to kill Dumbledore!"
"But he didn't," Hermione fired back, "he couldn't! And now he's watched his mother die…"
"What do you want me to do!" Harry yelled at her, unable to sit any longer he stood and began to pace, "just forget what he's done! Pretend that he's my best friend just because the thing that killed my mother has now done the same to his? Because I'm not going to do it, I'm not…"
"Oh grow up Harry," Hermione retorted, also standing and following Harry around, "don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement! Draco has been here for over three months and we haven't spoken to him, found out how he escaped, where Voldemort is, who's with him - nothing! He is a mountain of information and willing to give it! Yet because of this feud between the two of you, we've learnt nothing! We're at war!"
"I know!" Harry practically screamed, turning to her so they stood face to face, "I know we're at war! I'm reminded daily that we're at war! But you weren't there Hermione! You didn't see him stand there threatening to kill Dumbledore - I was! And I can never forget it!"
"You have a battle to fight Harry," she continued, her voice no longer shouting, "and you need all the weapons you can get to win. Draco Malfoy is a weapon. He has no-one. He feels betrayed by Voldemort and wants revenge. He has information that we can use. All we need to do is talk to him."
"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," Ron said from his seat - both Harry and Hermione turned to him, "I mean, he would've told the Order everything when they gave him veritaserum…"
"What?" Hermione gasped.
"When?" Harry asked at the same time.
"Ages ago," Ron replied, confused, "didn't you know? Dad told me that once Malfoy was well enough, they questioned him - oh."
"Oh what, Ronald," Hermione asked annoyed, her hands on her hips.
"Er," he started, his face turning bright red, "I think I didn't tell you."
"You didn't tell us?" Harry angrily repeated, "you didn't tell us! Are you mental? Why in Merlin's sake didn't you tell us?"
"Because I was getting my head around the fact that I had lost a leg, that's why," Ron spat back, "dad told me during one of his visits, I said I would tell you and I forgot! I'm sorry, but I did have a lot on my mind at the time!"
Harry collapsed into his chair in defeat while Hermione sunk quietly into the sofa. This morning definitely wasn't one of the best and he hadn't even had breakfast yet! It was two days before Christmas, they had no school work with just some defence training - they were actually on holiday! This was supposed to be fun.
"It doesn't matter," he said finally, "the Order got information and checked Malfoy out. If they felt it would help us, Remus would've told us…"
"Both Lupin and McGonagall weren't there," Ron interrupted, his anger also gone, "Remus was with Hermione at the orphanage and McGonagall had been called away to the Ministry. The interrogation was done by dad, Charlie and Bill."
"Which means they weren't there to get information to help us," Harry thought out loud, slightly annoyed that it turned out that way.
"The Malfoy library would have a significant collection of dark books…" Hermione ventured hesitantly after a few moments of silence.
"We are not telling Malfoy of the Horcruxes," Harry said immediately, "and I doubt whether the Malfoy estate would be very safe any way - otherwise he would be there rather than here. Besides, at the moment we haven't got the time to include even more research to our timetable."
"But…" Hermione began.
"No Hermione," Harry quickly cut her off, "Ron and Luna are nearly done with the Black library - if we find nothing when we finished there, then we can look over our options."
"I thought we voted on things like this…" she grumbled darkly.
"I agree with Harry," Ron said quickly, "you're out voted."
"I still think we should talk to Malfoy," Hermione continued defiantly, "find out for ourselves what's going on." Harry looked at her and saw that her jaw was set stubbornly, knowing she wouldn't give up on this without a fight. He then looked at Ron and saw the redhead was resigned to the fact she was right.
"I agree," Harry said with a deep breath, "we should talk to Malfoy. But it will need to be somewhere where if he really annoys me, I can't kill him." Harry's statement was received with a smile.
Kreacher was buried later that day with Hermione, Harry and Ron attending the funeral as well as Hagrid and McGonagall. The only house-elf that showed was Dobby as Kreacher had made few friends during his time at Hogwarts. The service was short and officiated by Professor McGonagall and took place in a large, centuries old cemetery on the edge of the Forbidden Forest well away from where any student would come.
As they were trudging back to the castle through the snow, Ron grumbling all the way, Harry felt glad he had decided to come. Hermione hadn't pressured them after their morning discussion but Harry knew that both he and Ron making the effort had help bring her out of her emotional tirade of the morning.
McGonagall left them in the entrance way of the castle and as Harry went to make his way back to the dorm, Hermione stopped him and pointed through the open doors of the Great Hall. There, sitting on his own reading a book, was Draco Malfoy. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders with resigned acceptance, and as one the three friends changed direction and made their way to where Malfoy was sitting.
As they got closer, Malfoy looked up. The distinctive sound of Ron's false leg and walking stick was widely recognised around the halls - Malfoy was no different.
"What do you three want," the Slytherin snarled as they sat at his table - Ron next to him, Harry and Hermione opposite him.
"It's time for a chat Malfoy," Harry replied calmly, "a real chat. It seems a long time over due."
"I have already been interrogated by the blood traitors," Malfoy scowled quickly at Ron before returning his attention to Harry, "why don't you have a chat with them?"
"Because we want to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak," Harry said back, "and, well, we felt sorry for you. You seem to have no friends."
"I'll survive," Malfoy sneered, "I don't need your pity…"
"You haven't got it," Harry growled, "I was just making an observation." The two stared at each other, Ron and Hermione watching them silently - no-one noticed Tonks approaching the table.
"This is what I like to see," the young witch said with a smile, "the Houses building bridges, dashing past rivalries. Still, Harry and Ron - best to hand me your wands."
"What?" Harry cried incredulously, drawing his eyes away from his enemy to look at Tonks, "why?"
"Because every time you four are together, someone gets hurt," she explained patiently.
"Easily fixed," Malfoy muttered, "I'll leave you all…"
"No way," Ron said quickly, stopping Malfoy from standing with a firm hand on his arm, "we need to talk."
"Take your filthy hands off me Weasley," Malfoy hissed, but stayed seated after Ron let go.
"See," Tonks continued brightly, "co-operation. So, Harry and Ron - your wands."
"Why doesn't Hermione have to give you hers?" Ron grumbled as he gave Tonks his wand, Harry reluctantly doing the same.
"Hermione has more restraint than you two," Tonks informed him, "Malfoy is already unarmed and now you all can have your chat without the fear of someone hexing the other. I'll hang around and give you your wands when you're finished." And with a flourish (and the accidental tripping over one of the benches they were sitting on) Tonks was gone. Harry turned his attention back to a scowling Malfoy.
"Sorry to hear about your mother," Hermione finally said - Malfoy looked at her in surprise.
"What do you know about that?" he asked harshly.
"We know that Voldemort killed her," Harry stated unemotionally, "perhaps you should've taken Dumbledore up on his offer when you tried to kill him, he would've been able to keep your mother safe."
"How do you…you were there? Up on the tower?" Draco paled considerably as he looked at Harry, all his bravado gone.
"Yeah, I was there," Harry continued, his voice cold, "I saw your little display, how you weren't able to do the job you were meant to do. How you were a coward, just like Snape."
"Snape put an old man out of his misery, you idiot," Malfoy whispered harshly, back to his cocky self, "and he, for a reason only known to himself, has put his life in danger to save your sorry heroic arse."
"Snape betrayed the man who gave him a second chance and then ran," Harry spat back, his voice also low and controlled, "he is a coward and a traitor. Now, why are you here?"
"I'm here because I have no where else to go," Draco replied, sitting upright once more, "Malfoy Manor is being watched, and all my relatives and acquaintances, well lets just say they no longer welcome me in their homes."
"Why's that?" Ron asked curiously.
"Because they think I'm dead."
"Dead?" Hermione repeated, confused.
"Yes Granger, dead," Malfoy said as if explaining himself to a small child, "and here I was thinking you were the smart one."
"How could you make everyone think you're dead?" Harry quickly asked, ignoring Hermione's blush, "although your colouring does mimic that of a walking corpse, as far as I can tell, you are very much alive."
"Ah, yet another display of your poor attempt at wit," Malfoy sneered, "and since your pathetic anti-Dark Lord task force has already dragged the information out of me, I might as well tell you. After they tortured and killed my mother in front of me for my failure, my execution was planned. Snape got them to delay it, which allowed him to give me a potion that made the drinker seem dead. I was brought in front of the Dark Lord and was tortured, drank the potion and gave the impression that I had died under the duress. Considering I hadn't eaten for nearly four days, my death was no surprise.
"Snape offered to dispose of my body, which he did at the foot of Hogwarts gates. He gave me the reversing potion and here I am. To all pretence, I am dead. The mail leaving here is searched and all mention of me by our classmates is removed. Snape saved my life."
"What for?" Ron asked bluntly, "I mean, why go to all that trouble just for you?"
"Because I'm supposed to help Potter." Malfoy spat Harry's name as if it was something poisonous and glowered across the table at him.
"Well, I must say, you're doing a bloody poor job," Harry scoffed, glowering back, "one warning months ago and a few insults since. Brilliant job of helping there, Malfoy."
"The werewolf and his cronies seem to think differently," Malfoy continued, "but of course the Golden Trio are too above anyone else to take time out from your little adventures to talk to people who can actually help. What were you doing in London, by the way? Early Christmas shopping?"
"What makes you think we've been in London?" Hermione questioned with concern.
"Because you were so upset when your darling Potty was brought into the hospital ward, I was forgotten," Draco smirked, his eyes moving to a blushing Hermione, "what is this cup you and Lupin were so anxious about?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Harry answered - Malfoy returned his gaze to Harry.
"You answer for the mudblood now as well?" his smirk turned into a grin, "how sweet. Poor little Weasel, left out again. Oh no, that's right, you're shagging the resident loony…"
Ron was on top of Malfoy in an instant and both boys fell off the bench seat and onto the hard stone floor with a thump. Tonks was there quickly and helped Harry, who had scrambled over the table, pull a bleeding Ron off the also bleeding Malfoy.
"You four are so predictable," Tonks said with a grimace, letting Ron go but standing in between him and his opponent, "Hermione, are you able to fix Ron up?"
"It's just a bloody nose," Hermione replied matter-of-factly as she came over to Ron's side and ran her wand diagnostically over him, "I can fix that."
"Brilliant," Tonks stated, handing Harry the two confiscated wands, "so we won't need to keep guard up on the hospital ward. Mr Malfoy, you come with me."
With a parting glare, Malfoy followed the teacher out of the Great Hall while Hermione quickly healed Ron's nose and cleaned the blood off his shirt.
As Christmas got closer, the animosity between the trio and Malfoy didn't have a chance to grow as the Slytherin was seen less and less around the castle - on Christmas Eve he didn't even show for dinner. Part of Harry guessed this would be a difficult time for Malfoy, but the other, greater part didn't really care. Harry was having his own problems this festive season.
He woke Christmas morning without enthusiasm. There were no presents as the three friends had agreed to leave this year out and celebrate doubly next year - time and opportunity hadn't allowed them to get anyone any gifts.
Hermione had desperately wanted to go home for Christmas but was told it was too dangerous - which was the reason she had been so moody lately. Harry had tried to cheer her up, but she was content to sit on her own and read so he had left her to it.
There was also the absence of the headmaster. Hogwarts had felt strange without Professor Dumbledore all term but now, it just felt wrong. Harry couldn't help remembering the image of the old wizard singing carols whole heartily wearing a silly Christmas cracker hat. Christmas was definitely going to be difficult this year.
The boys met Hermione in the common area and wished each other a sombre Merry Christmas before heading out to the near empty corridors of Hogwarts. They met Neville and Ginny on their way, who both seemed a lot happier than the trio.
Ron left them to go a pick up Luna so the two couples continued to breakfast - Neville and Ginny chatting while Harry and Hermione walked in silence. Harry wanted to see Hermione smile, it was Christmas after all, but she wouldn't look at him and nothing he could think of to say felt right. So he stayed silent.
The doors to the Great Hall were open and the long house tables had disappeared, as the student population consisted of the Weasley's, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Draco - all others had gone home to spend time with their families. A large circular table was in the middle of the hall with a small group of adults talking not far from the door. Harry immediately recognised Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, Remus and Tonks but there was another couple there that were definitely not teachers, standing with their backs towards him.
Harry stopped and felt Hermione do the same. Surely it couldn't be, but the familiar hair that was passed down from mother to daughter meant that it had to be, it could be no-one else.
"Mum? Dad?" Hermione queried, puzzled. Her parents turned around and the smile Harry had been waiting for all morning finally arrived. With a squeal, she ran to them and was quickly enveloped in a hug. Harry laughed at the obvious joy of the family reunion - this is how Christmas should be.
"Merry Christmas sweetheart," Mrs Granger smiled, tears filling her eyes as she looked lovingly at Hermione, "are you surprised?"
"I most certainly am," Hermione gushed, "how did you get here? How can you be here?"
"You'll need to ask Professor McGonagall," Mr Granger said, indicating to the headmistress, "she organised it all."
At this news Hermione turned from her parents and went to the watching professor, surprising everyone by giving the strict headmaster a huge hug - which, after a few moments hesitation, was returned.
"Thank you professor," Hermione said tearfully, "you have no idea how much this means to me. It's the best present ever."
"You're more than welcome Miss Granger," McGonagall replied awkwardly, "we thought that since you couldn't go home, we could bring home here."
"How?" Hermione asked, going back to her parents, "I mean, they're Muggles, they're not supposed to be able to see Hogwarts let alone enter it."
"Being headmistress gives many privileges," McGonagall continued with a little smile, "choosing who is allowed to see this establishment is only one of them." Hermione seemed to accept this explanation and joined her parents as they made their way to the table.
Harry went to follow them and found himself next to Mr Granger, who shook his hand warmly.
"Hello Harry," the older man said, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas sir," Harry replied, feeling none of the tension from their last meeting.
"We come bearing gifts," Mr Granger smiled, indicating to some large shopping bags set a little way away from the table.
"Great," Harry enthused taking his seat next to his friends' father, "Hermione hasn't had much of a Christmas - we weren't able to get her any presents…"
"Ah, the presents aren't just for Hermione," Mr Granger interrupted now grinning.
By this stage Ron and Luna had joined the party, arriving with Ron parents and twin brothers. Presents were quickly forgotten as breakfast was served with much frivolity and laughter. Harry joined in as much as he could, but he couldn't help thinking that something was missing, and that something was Professor Dumbledore.
After all had finished their meals, it seemed that those outside the castle felt they should make up the lack of present giving by those inside the castle with extra gifts for all. Even Harry grinned manically as he watched his friends open their presents.
Hermione was positively glowing even before a gift was exchanged and he could tell she was so proud of her parents as she handed both Ron and himself the Grangers' gifts - a bunch of Muggle lollies for Ron (against their better judgement but decided they really didn't know what else to get him) and a wind-up watch for Harry (they explained it wasn't that expensive so they weren't going to take it back when Harry refused it, and that the cost was similar to that of Ron's gift).
Harry watched intently as Hermione opened her own gift, wishing that he had something of his own to give her and curious to see what her parents had bought. From where he was sitting, a few chairs down from her (next to her father), it looked like a book. Harry smiled to himself as he thought, typical - she must get her love of reading from somewhere! But as she turned the pages, he saw that he was wrong. It was a photo album.
"We knew you had photos of us," Mrs Granger explained, "but we thought this would be nice. You could look at yourself growing up…"
"Hermione baby pictures?" Ron spoke up from the other side of the table, obviously also watching his friend opening her present, "I have to see this." As Ron made his way awkwardly to Hermione's seat, Harry found himself doing the same. The two looked over her shoulder as she silently turned the pages.
Harry saw the images of the happy family with a pang of sadness - it looked so natural and right, nothing like his own childhood. The photos followed Hermione's own timeline with each new photo a different year. All contained all three Grangers and all were snapshots of a loving home. As the little girl grew into the person Harry knew, his own memories of his life with Hermione began to flicker through his mind - the bushy hair, the big teeth and the intelligent sparkle that was always in her eyes.
"This is perfect," Hermione said as a more recent picture looked up from the album, "absolutely perfect. Thank you." She turned to each parent in turn and hugged them, once again with tears in her eyes.
The rest of the day continued what the breakfast began with the Weasley and Granger families enjoying their time together. Harry found himself included as if he belonged to both families, but was content to sit back and watch the interactions. The Weasley's left the following day, but the Grangers remained and had made plans to see the new year in at the castle.
Hermione was enjoying spending the time with her parents and was busy showing them around the school. Ron and Luna volunteered to go to Grimmauld Place and keep on looking through the library, though Harry was sure they were really looking for some privacy well away from any accidental disturbances from either a teacher, the Grangers on their guided tour or Malfoy, who spent his time sulking around the halls.
Harry spent the few days of freedom catching up with Hagrid, who he had missed since his return to Hogwarts. Although still making sure he kept up to date with his school work and defence training over the break, he spent many a day helping the half giant and his brother around the grounds.
Exhausted by a day of clearing snow off some of the many paths to the castle (which was really just an excuse for a very, very large snowball fight), Harry collapsed into his bed, ready to sleep. New Year's Eve was the following day and he was determined to see the year in no matter how tired he was. He had the dorm to himself as Ron was still with Luna, so with a contented grin, Harry rolled over and promptly went to sleep.
It felt like he had only closed his eyes moments ago when he was woken by severe shaking.
"Harry! Harry, wake up!"
"Whatisit," Harry replied sleepily as he put on his glasses and an agitated Ron came into view.
"Come on," Ron replied, "we have something to tell you and Hermione! Come on!" Dragging himself out of bed, Harry grabbed his robe and followed the nearly running Ron out of the room. Hermione and Luna were descending the stairs on the other side and Harry had to smile when he saw Hermione looking just as sleepy as him. They sat down in their usual spots by the fire, Hermione hiding a yawn.
"So, what is it Ron?" Harry asked, the excitement on his friends face priceless.
"We found it," Ron answered cryptically.
"Found what?" Hermione questioned.
"This," was the reply. Harry and Hermione leant forward in their chairs to peer at the book Ron held in his hands. It was small and covered in black leather with three very important words embossed on the front:
Horcuxes: A Guide