A Christmas Miracle

A/N: This little ficlet is for the Hogwarts in Harmony Secret Santa exchange. It's not set in any of my current universes, Lions, Circle, Brain Trust, Interlude, or related to any other one-shot. I wrote this one off the top of my little head, so any insanity, is purely my own. It's set about four years after the Dark Lord was roasted over an open fire...Jack Frost nibbling at his toes...Sorry, couldn't resist. Harry made a decision four years ago that has haunted him ever since. H/Hr, with a side of R/LL... Thanks to Lady Starlight for her usual splendiferous work on this shot. Stay tuned to the A/N at the end for an announcement about some more work that could be coming up very soon.
As usual, I own only the plot...and Moon and Sun, I suppose.


A Christmas Miracle

December 24, 2002.
3:00 pm

A hooded, black-haired man sighed mightily as he slipped through the never-ending press in Diagon Alley of last minute Christmas shoppers. He stopped, stepping out of the flow of traffic and backing into the doorway of Pendleton's Pedantic Pendants, one of the few stores not overflowing with shoppers. Probably because Pendleton had been put out of business by one of Harry's Auror squads for selling fake talismans, of course. He set down a pair of bags full of purchases, next to him and reached up, pulling his hood more forward to hide his features.

He leaned back against the door, and reached up under his hood to settle his glasses more securely on his nose. He watched as a witch walked past pushing a floating carriage and closed his eyes for a moment as a sudden spike of...something passed through his gut, an emptiness that he had felt for years. He looked down at his packages, almost all of them for a person that he had not seen in four years. Not since the morning when she had left on a plane, determined to start again, away from the darkness that had ruled their lives since before they were even teens.

The scholarship to the Massachusetts Institute of Thaumaturgy had been unexpected, at least to her, but not to him.

Especially since he had paid for it.

It was during those four weeks when he had sat at her bedside in the Hospital Wing, irresolute in his determination not to leave until she had woke from the final vindictive curse that Tom Riddle had let loose as the Sword of Gryffindor skewered him, and sent him on a one way trip to someplace that was rather warmer than England ever got in the summer. If she woke that was. During those four weeks, when gradually, even her other best friend had drifted away, spending more and more time away from the Hospital Wing, he had resolved to give her, her dreams, no matter what the price.

So on the day she had awoke, after he had stopped crying into her shoulder, he had taken a quick side jaunt to Gringotts, where after a few minutes with the one of the Goblins in charge of major accounts, and a rather large anonymous draft establishing a new scholarship for exceptional Muggle-Born students at the prestigious school, he had set events in motion to shatter his own heart.

Even so, she had almost not left, even after a week-long argument in which he urged her to take the scholarship. But in the end, even she got tired, she had fought one way or another since she was twelve, and it was the opportunity of a lifetime, even if it required her to stay away for four years. Her parents had gone to see her in those four years but he had not, the new rising star of the Auror service, protégée of Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody was entirely too busy, barely home at his flat in Kensington Gardens to sleep.

They had exchanged owls from across the planet, from Paris, London, Hong Kong and even more exotic locales as he was sent to track down the last of the Death Eaters, and she had delved into her studies. The letters had gradually tapered off, becoming shorter and shorter, until one day when he read a letter while sitting on the top of a high rise in Hong Kong, waiting for Lucius Malfoy to appear, telling him of a boy she had met in the library while studying for Quantum Transfiguration.

Lucius had never stood a chance, nor did the fifteen other Death Eaters with him that night.

After that, he had never written again, and after thirty or so more owls sat unopened and unanswered on his desk, they had stopped. That was two years ago, and as Harry stood, watching the throng of shoppers, anonymous in his cloak and the glamour hiding his scar, he felt hollow, the snow even colder than normal as it covered his shoulders. Half the packages at his feet, indeed a closet full of them at his apartment, were presents for the other half of his soul, the half that he had last seen in person with her lip between her teeth as she walked backwards through the security gate at Heathrow. He had turned away, following a pink-haired woman to his destiny, and missing the tears that had dampened her face.

He sighed and pulled a scrap of parchment from his cloak pocket, and started to examine his list that still remained. As usual, he took a breath to chastise himself for wasting his time shopping for someone he would probably never see again, before he started to read down the list. He smiled faintly at the notation on Ron and Luna's twin daughters; that they wanted 'Uncle Harry' to get them ponies for Christmas. While he would never miss the money, had absolutely no problem with the request, Luna would probably kill him if he fulfilled it. Maybe Fred and George have something, he mused quietly and felt his heart stammer as he caught a flash of chestnut hair out of the corner of his eye. He spun, just as the door to the coffee shop four shops down and across the way closed and shook his head at his foolishness.

He sighed again and pushed off from the doorway, and started off through the crowds towards #93 Diagon Alley. He stepped around a happy couple that he recognized vaguely from Hogwarts, they had been in Ravenclaw a year below him, but made no sign of recognition and kept on his journey. A squad of carolers sang on a corner outside of Gringotts, filling the air with strange jingles. A small pair of owls, barely larger than Pigwidgeon flitted overhead with short-range missives and wheeled into the incoming OWL chute of the bank.

He looked up as he approached the store, which was filled to overflowing with last minute shoppers, buying such items as Bobble-Head Voldies, Fickle Chess Sets and the complete line of action figures of the DA and the Order of the Phoenix, with periodic fights breaking out over the short-packed Invisible Harry and Fawkes variants. Hermione was rather rare as well, though the Rons seemed to be peg-warmers. A flashing sign outline in silvery-blue bluebell flames shined down through the thickening snow, proclaiming the availability of "You-No-Poo!, now with Incendio!Pee! added to every dose."

He laughed and spun to the side, vanishing into a blank alley beside the store. He looked to each side and waved his hand over the wall, before stepping through the stone.

He emerged into a back room of the store, and immediately heard, "OI, HARRY!" Harry smiled and dropped his hood as he turned to the voice. He barely caught the slightly staggering hug from the stocky jokester, and stepped back to look him over. Fred was much the same as he had been in Hogwarts, a white streak marred his hair, and a faint flicker of something might have danced in the back of blue eyes, but they all had their scars and ghosts. "How have you been, mate?" Fred went on jovially. "Have you been back long?"

Harry shrugged, "I just got back from Hong Kong again last week, slept for two days...I'll be at the Burrow, I suppose, tomorrow..."

Fred frowned faintly, "We'd love for you to spend tonight with us as well, Mate; you know that. Ron and Luna will be there with the girls, and Angelina's making me leave work early to take care of my own...we'd all love to see you..."

Harry shook his head, "No, you lot should have a family Christmas Eve, I'll show for Christmas Dinner tomorrow." Harry smiled hugely, falsely, and waved towards the front of the shop. "Actually I was hoping that you could help me...seems Moon and Sun want ponies for Christmas from Uncle Harry and as I'm slightly afraid of Luna..."

Fred's laughter boomed over the back room, "As you should be, as you should be...I'm still trying to figure out how she turned all of my boxers to Feldercarbs...She's almost as good as..." He walked away from Harry and opened a cabinet...he touched a wand to a small box and it grew to the size of a large suitcase. He opened it, and a...horse stepped out and whinnied, nuzzling at Harry's knee. Harry looked in amazement at the cat-sized horse as it pranced around, and then up at Fred. "We just got them in, actually, Happy Parent Ponies, you don't have to feed them, they are damn near indestructible, and after you key them in on the child, they'll follow them around all day."

"I'll take two," Harry replied, still with a touch of wonder. "Can you go ahead and ship them to the Burrow?"

"Sure, Harry, we can...George is at Gringotts' right now, would you like to stay and wait? Have a beer?" Fred waved towards a coldbox set in one corner of the back room covered in several moderately risqué calendars of both Muggle and Wizard origin.

Harry looked as if he considered the proposition for a moment, before shaking his head and looking back to where he had come, he reached up and replaced his hood, before picking up his packages. "No, I need to get done...thanks, Fred, I'll see you tomorrow." Harry vanished and Fred sighed, he watched the empty space where their number one investor had stood, before walking to the front of the store to help the clerk with the last minute rush.

Harry reappeared in the street and regripped his packages as he started towards Eeylops, looking for something for the girl still in his life. A familiar shape caught his eye again, but vanished into Quality Quidditch Supplies, and he stopped, nearly causing an accident in the packed street as he back up traffic. A few vocalized complaints from the passersby and he stepped to the side, moving out of the way even as the unknowing hordes walked by their savior without a thought. She's gone, Harry, he snapped at himself, you do this every year...you caused it, now live with it.

He sighed, emerald eyes, colored blue for the day, closed tiredly as he massaged his forehead. He opened them again, and shook his head, deciding that he could just owl order the rest, he only needed a few things anyway.

He vanished between breaths, silently, leaving behind the cacophony of Christmas sounds, to reappear in the kitchen of his silent, tasteful, and utterly empty apartment. Harry walked to a small writing desk and filled out an order form from a stack of them to Weasley's Wizarding World and dropped it in Hedwig's bin, trusting her to take it to the store for him, before setting his packages on the kitchen table. He shrugged out of his cloak, tossing it over a kitchen chair, before retrieving a butterbeer from the fridge and walking to the living room, kicking off his boots as he went. The glamour faded as well, not that it would work on those who knew him already, the hated scar fading back into existence on his forehead and his eyes turning emerald, from the sky-like hue they had had before.

He collapsed bonelessly onto a tan leather sofa and leaned back, tossing his feet up onto the coffee table as he cradled his beer in both hands. There was a large, decorated fir set up in one corner of the room, probably put there by Dobby, but he did not bother to light it, preferring to just sit there in the gloom as he nursed his drink, his thoughts years and miles away. Over the years, especially after he had received that fateful letter, he had seen her everywhere, in coffee shops and bookstores, in grocers and in pubs, until he thought he was going crazy. He looked down his legs at his toes, and wiggled them, noting idly that he had a hole in the right toe of his mismatched socks and not caring much either way.

It had been a while since he cared about such things, things such as eating regularly, darning his socks, or making sure that they matched. It was enough that he remember his wand, and on occasion his sword, as he jaunted about the globe making sure that no matter what, at least she would be safe.

A plate with a large roast beef sandwich and crisps appeared on the table next to his feet with a POP and he rolled his eyes, sighing faintly, before nudging the plate aside with the side of his foot. Dobby tried, he really did, but even house-elf magic could only do so much. He slowly finished his beer and stood to walk to the kitchen for another. He found one, as he pretty much knew he would, the fridge replenished itself after all, and retreated back to the couch.

A patch of air next to his feet on the table sparkled briefly, and Dobby appeared, his new trick one he had learned for Christmas three years prior. He looked up at Harry for ten or fifteen seconds, "Will Harry Potter, Sir, be wanting dinner this evening?" he asked, with a not at all unobvious glance of his tennis ball sized eyes towards the untouched plate, and then back at Harry. His head cocked slightly, jangling the Snitch earring in his left ear that the elf had gotten four years ago, when Luna told him it was cute.

"No, Dobby, I'll just turn in, in a bit." Dobby's ears drooped just barely, but he nodded and stepped back, vanishing into the air again. He sighed again, running a hand over a chin darkened with two days of dark growth, before he stood, finishing his beer and vanishing the bottle with a gesture. He turned on his heel to retreat to his bedroom, when a sharp rapping sound came from his door and he froze.

He spun to the door, his wand appearing in his hand if by magic, and took a breath as he moved out of the direct line of it. Harry Potter at twenty-two was not the Harry at eleven, his trust had been severely pared away over the years, especially after loosing Dumbledore. Exactly four people in all the world could pass the outer wards of his flat without his approval, Ron, Luna, Winky and Dobby, but none of them would have knocked, they would have just Apparated in. All the rest, even his closest friends, would be stopped at the curb by defenses only rivaled by those at the Ministry and Hogwarts.

He held his wand low by his leg as he stepped to the door, and opened it with a sharp gesture.

It clattered to the floor unheeded from limp fingers as he stared, seeing, but unseeing at the sight before him. The flakes of snow that dusted chestnut curls, that in turn framed huge brown eyes, eyes that he had seen almost every night in his dreams, one way or another. Her teeth worried her lower lip as she stood nervously, rocking slightly on her feet. Harry continued to stare, frozen, as the world wavered, rolling beneath his feet.

"Can I come in?" a faint soprano asked, and he just nodded, his throat a solid mass. He looked down as a large, orange, half-Kneazle slipped past his mistress' legs, rubbed against Harry's and vanished into the depths of the apartment as if he lived there. Harry's vision failed a moment later, becoming only waves of brown as a hundred and twenty pounds crashed into him. He took a staggering step back, as his arms automatically took the load, following programming too deep to question.

If he could have formed a coherent thought, he would have marveled at the fit of her in his arms, but he just tightened them as a faint trembling was detected. A hour could have passed as they stood in his open doorway, unheeded, before a faintly annoyed "MEOW", snapped them both back to reality.

A sharp jab stabbed his gut as she pulled out of his arms. She laughed almost timidly, "I...uh promised him, that he could get something to eat, he's been on a flight all night," she explained, "I don't suppose..." Harry nodded and stepped back and let her pass, before closing the door behind her. His wand jumped to his hand and vanished back into the sheath that had been riding behind his back, as he took a breath and followed her into the living room.

Crookshanks was sniffing at the abandoned sandwich and Harry swallowed as years slipped away, and he could see her Familiar in the same place years ago, stealing food. She looked back at him apologetically, brushing a loose curl behind one ear, and he shrugged, "It's alright, he can have it, I wasn't going to eat it anyway." Chocolate eyes grew calculating just for a beat and she nodded, giving the feline a vague gesture of acceptance. The meat and cheese seemed to vanish in the next second, pulled from the center of the bun without it even moving as the cat hopped down to enjoy his meal under the coffee table.

"Wha...When did you get back?" Harry asked dazedly, as he watched her slowly pace over to a coat rack set in one corner of the room and doff the red and black Muggle parka she had been wearing. His heart skipped a beat as he caught the thin stripe of skin at the small of her back, still decorated with a fluttering winged gold ball that she gotten on a rare, light-hearted dare during the dark days of the war. She pulled the black jumper down absently to just meet the waistband of her jeans, which were riding low on her hips, and turned back to him.

"About four hours ago," she replied hesitantly. "Flew into Heathrow and Apparated to Diagon Alley, to run to Gringotts quickly...then here." She looked past him, and paced to the tree. Light sparkled from the pass of her hand and the tree lit with innumerable fairy lights, sending shards of jewel-like colored light into the room.

He watched the tree, as she paced to the low fire that Dobby kept burning in the hearth and crouched down next to it, stoking it with a flick of a wand before straightening and looking back at him, fixing her jumper again, as she rose. "Where are you staying, your folks' place?" He glanced over as Crookshanks jumped up to the top of the couch and settled in, and then back to her, "I'm sure that they are glad to see you."

"I didn't come back to see my parents, Harry," her quiet voice susserated across the room and he almost did not hear the rest, "I was hoping...I could stay with you, honestly." He held her eyes for a moment, and she shrugged, "If you have room...and don't mind us..."

"Alright."

A faint smile brightened her face, and she crossed to the couch and dropped on it, looking up at him, as he slowly folded himself into the seat next to her, leaving a foot or two of separation between them. A ghost of a frown might have crossed her eyes as she looked at the chasm, but vanished as she looked back up at him. "How have you been?"

"Alright, you?"

"Alright."

Hermione crooked an eyebrow but did not comment, before she glanced at the beer on the coffee table, "Got another?" Harry gave her a small, almost natural grin and she tracked him with her eyes as he stood and walked to the kitchen. His hand touched hers as he handed her, her drink, and a spark leapt the distance. "Static," she mused, as they both jumped.

He settled down next to her again and watched her as she took a drink of the beer, "How long are you staying, I heard that you had been offered a Professorship, there..."

Hermione shrugged, "It depends, honestly."

"On what?" he replied, and she just looked at him ignoring the question, for now.

"Thank you, Harry," she replied instead; he made a questioning look, "for the scholarship."

"How long have you known," he asked, his gaze flicking down and away from hers, examining minutely the ingredients on the label.

"About thirty minutes after I got it," she admitted with a shrug, and took a drink.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"It made you happy."

"It was supposed to make you happy."

"It did...sometimes..." she set the drink back down on the table and stood, walking over to the edge of the room and bending flat at the waist to unlace her Doc Martens before kicking them off under the coat rack. "I loved the coursework..." she drifted off and walked over the floor to ceiling windows at one end of the room and watched as the snow started to fall faster in the late afternoon.

Harry closed his eyes as she pressed her hand to the glass, spreading her fingers against the cold sheet, he opened them as she started to trace abstract runes in the fog from her breath, "I see that you've kept in training," he remarked, trying to stretch the silence.

"Never know when you might need to take care of yourself," Hermione replied without looking back at him. On the couch, Crookshanks looked between the pair of them, and shook his furry head, before closing grass-green eyes and snuggling down in the warmth of the room. Hermione gnawed on her lip for a moment, watching as a couple walked by on the sidewalk a floor below, Harry's apartment sat on top of his garage, where a seldom used BMW roadster and Sirius' old bike sat in repose. "What would have happened if I had asked you to come with me, four years ago, to not take the Auror's slot?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, "it needed to be done, though...I owed it to...people."

"People, Harry," Hermione said insightfully, still without turning from the window, "or to me?" Harry started to open his mouth to respond, but she cut off him with a headshake, still without actually looking at him, "I was your partner, Harry, your best friend, I never needed you to be my Knight Errant." She sighed, "I wanted to be there, with you, Harry...I know what you've been up too...where you've been, what you've been doing..."

"H...How...."

"Arthur, Minerva, Ron, Luna, Tonks," she turned around slowly, and leaned back against the cold window, "every time another 'Uncatchable Death Eater' or wanna-be Dark Lord met their end, even if it wasn't you they reported on in the papers, I knew." He swallowed at the silver pooling at the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip, "I almost came back after you got hurt that night going after Antonin."

"Why didn't you?" Harry whispered.

"I didn't think that you wanted to see me," she murmured, almost silently, though he could hear her as if she had shouted, "You had stopped writing..."

"I thought you..." he held her eyes for a beat and gasped as he felt himself falling forward, into her memories, her shields collapsing, instead of fighting him as she would have anyone else, even though he had not meant to probe her memories. "I was an idiot," he moaned and dropped his head to his hands. As he sat, his vision blocked, the sudden silence stretched, and the events of the last four years of his life flicked by, the sudden intelligence leaps he had been handed, the occasional new gadget or spell that had come from the "Research Section", "You were helping me all along, weren't you?"

Neither of them could have ever lied to other directly, not really. Oh, there was a time in sixth year when they might have been able to prevaricate to an extent, or that they might have ignored the signs in the other, but even with their separation, that time had come and vanished, never to return. She nodded mutely, and reached into her front jeans pocket. A flicker of gold caught the light as a shield-shaped object tumbled across the room, only to be snared from the air reflexively by Hogwarts' Youngest Seeker in a Century. He only looked at it briefly, before he flipped it onto the table in front of him, not watching as it landed face up to show the inset owl, with a wand in one talon and a set of scales in the other.

"I've been on...detached duty, I guess you could call it...Arthur approached me right after I'd left...Never seen anyone so happy to be on a eight-hour flight," she interjected with a smile, "he asked...and my only request was that I help you..."

"You should have concentrated on your coursework," he said softly, "but thank you."

"If I had...it would have only taken me two years, Harry," she snorted, "and I thought you were an investigator and spy?" She slipped her hands in her front pockets, hunching her shoulders, "I still should have been with you," she laughed bitterly, "I even thought about disguising myself and coming back, having Moody partner us up together..."

"I would have known..."

"I know."

"I missed you so much, Hermione," Harry whispered fiercely, his eyes holding hers as the world fractured into a thousand shards, viewed through the tears filling his eyes. The couch dimpled beside him as he felt his head being pulled into her chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she kissed the top of his head, and left her lips there as her own tears flowed. She crumpled into him, almost collapsing on top of him as he shook in her arms.

"I'm not leaving again, Harry," she breathed as one hand came up to slowly comb through his hair, kissing the crown of his hair again, "no matter how stupid we are." He swallowed a large knot in his throat, and she felt his hands start to run up and down her spine, coming up to cradle the back of her head.

"Really?" he murmured, in the voice of the eleven-year-old that watched her walk away every night in his dreams. She nodded, bending her head enough to kiss his forehead, closing her eyes as she felt the almost fevered warmth of his skin. She wormed back on the couch, still holding him to her as she settled in more comfortably, working backwards until her back hit the arm of the couch, and Harry half-reclined across her, his head cradled against her bosom. His arms squeezed her painfully, but she did not even squeak in protest.

His head bent back, and looked at her watching as she bent further, until she could brush her lips across his tentatively, and pulling back enough to hold his eyes from only a few inches away. She smiled as she wormed her way down further, rolling until Harry's back was to the back of the couch as she snuggled down into his arms. She rested her head on the overstuffed arm of the couch. She watched her fingers as she brushed them through his hair, and leaned her cheek into his hand as he cupped her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm.

Dancing dots of light from the tree over her shoulder twinkled on the lenses of Harry's glasses, and she felt her the corners of her mouth twitch as Harry's did. "Where's your luggage?" he asked. Hermione reached back with an empty hand and waved towards her hanging parka. It squirmed, and a tiny, doll-sized trunk levitated from an inner pocket and settled to the ground next to the window. It expanded to a slightly larger than normal steamer trunk and she looked back to him. "Infinite volume on the inside?"

"I hope you have a big, empty library somewhere around here?" Hermione replied with a laugh.

"Amusingly enough," Harry murmured, stroking the side of her head possessively, "I do...it was one of the reasons that I bought the place."



December 25, 2002
3:20 am

Harry slowly slid out from under Hermione, slipping from the edge of the bed to stand next to it. He bent down and picked up a pair of red flannel sleep pants covered in tiny gold lions and pulled them on over slim hips. He reached out a hand and his glasses shot to him from the floor next to the bed, and his wand shrugged aside Hermione's from the opposite table where the two wands were laying together and floated over. Harry slipped on his glasses and slid his wand into the back of his pants automatically, the habits of years too ingrained to break, even now, before letting himself watch over her for a moment as she slept.

During the night, while they had slept, the snow had stopped and the clouds had passed, letting a bright white, nearly full moon shine down, lighting the fresh coating of snow of the ground out the floor-to-ceiling window and shining into the room. He looked down at his bed, watching as Hermione slept on her stomach, one arm tucked under her pillow and the other stretched out on the sheets beside her, slowly searching for him even in her sleep.

The sheets had fallen down to half cover her bum, leaving her back bare to his appreciative gaze. The wings of the Snitch tattoo decorating the small of her back beat slowly in time with her breathing. Her head was turned to one side, and her hair had fallen forward to cover her face. Harry knelt slowly down next to her, and brushed her hair from her face, smiling as he saw her smile in her sleep. He kissed her cheek, and she murmured, "Harry," to his amusement.

He let his fingers trail over her hair, before he slowly straightened and walked from the room, leaving his bedroom door open. Harry padded silently along the cool, polished, hardwood floors of the hallway to the living room, where he took a moment to watch the lights of the tree dancing before his eyes. The once barren area under the tree was filled with presents, no doubt due to his miniscule minion's efforts. It took twenty two years, he mused, his lips quirking slightly as he noticed Dobby slumbering in a chair. He walked over with no more noise than a lion hunting and spread a blanket over his tiny retainer and friend, and then looked back in the direction of his bedroom, But Santa seems to have finally found me.

Harry left Dobby sleeping and clutching a brace of mismatched socks, and walked into another room through an open doorway on the opposite side of the room from the tree.

The small, comfortable study was dominated by walls of filled shelves, almost overflowing with books on Defense, Spell Theory, Quidditch and anything else that had caught his eye during the last four years, years in which the he had desperately learned all he could. The smell of leather and parchment filled the air, a comforting smell that had wrapped him in warmth for years without him knowing why, as he walked over to a Muggle portrait of a Griffin sitting on a castle that looked remarkably like Hogwarts.

Faint sparkles of light followed his fingers as he traced them along the edge of the painting and then swung it open like a door on hidden hinges to reveal a small safe set in the wall. The safe had no dials or keyholes; only the dull gleam of steel greeted him. He reached out and held his palm to the cool metal; it grew warm and glowed, flashing once, before opening with a soft click.

Inside the safe, sitting precariously on top of a half dozen sets of identification papers, some Muggle, some Wizarding, with as many identities, part and parcel for his job, and resting alongside a few stacks of British Pounds, American Dollars and two decent-sized sacks of Galleons, a small black box sat where it had sat for the last four years.

He knew what sheltered there, without seeing what was in the box, he had first seen the contents almost six years ago, when Remus showed it to him in his vault under Gringotts and it had lived with him, hidden away with him for the last four, having been retrieved from the vault the same day that he had arranged for Hermione's further education.

He turned, clutching the box, not at a sound, but at a presence, at a magical signature that blended so tightly with his own that mere things such as wards could not distinguish them. His breath caught as she slipped into the room, still as bare as the day she had been born and padded over to him. "God, you're beautiful," Harry whispered reverently, as she stepped around the desk, and folded herself into his arms. He set the box down on the desk surreptitiously as he hugged her to him, and closed his eyes at the feeling of her breasts pressing into his bare chest.

She gave him a Cheshire grin and led him by the hand back to the couch in the living room, pushing him back down onto it, before curling up in his lap like the feline her alter-ego was. "I bet you say that to all your girlfriends," Hermione muttered, just barely loud enough for him to hear, as if she were afraid to break the spell of the night. A faint purring sound came from somewhere deep in her throat, like a well-petted housecat, as his fingers trailed lightly down the bumps of her spine and back up, continually moving in silent worship of her body.

Harry glanced over at Dobby, knowing from experience that nothing would wake the elf if he was well and truly out like he seemed to be, eventually Winky would come along and get him.

As if his thought had called Dobby's spouse, she appeared with an almost inaudible POP, clad in a tiny yellow sundress. Her eyes widened as she glanced over and saw Hermione and Harry. He held a finger to his lips and Winky nodded, grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet but staying silent as she touched Dobby with one long finger and they both vanished with a POP.

Hermione looked over at where they had been and then up at Harry, an eyebrow crooked, and he bent down, kissing her gently and sitting back up, "Winky makes the same as Dobby, her and Dobby's apartment is part of the Godric's house, she takes care of it and Grimmauld when any of us bother to go there, and Dobby takes care of this place...and me." Hermione nodded and kissed his stomach, just above the waistband of his sleep pants before relaxing even further into his embrace. She giggled as he reached down and played with the emerald hanging in her navel, another souvenir of a long-ago night, when Ron had taken Luna to bed upstairs in the Leaky Cauldron and Harry and Hermione had decided to be daring.

A rather odd dare considering their lives to that point.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione breathed, and he smiled. She ran her fingers along his abs, watching the muscles twitch in the light of the tree at her touch, "I never looked, do you still have yours?"

"You mean the Hippogriff on my arse?" Harry replied wryly and she giggled, "Of course...you picked it out."

Hermione smiled and sat up, wrapping herself around him, intertwining their limbs until they were almost one. She kissed him; sighing contently as she felt her tongue dance with his, warm in his embrace.

He wrapped both arms around her tightly as she sat back against him, tucking her head under his chin with a perfection of fit unmatched by any other she had ever sheltered in, or even thought about it with. "Good," she replied, smiling softly as she watched the colors cycle on the tree, "I didn't realize why I had picked that one until years later."

"To make Ginny insane with jealously?" Harry replied and Hermione slapped at his arm playfully.

"There was that," she agreed, "but more as a sign that I knew you...and no one else did."

"You still do."

She let his words soak in, let them wrap around her like a immaterial blanket, warmer than the finest wool, before she tucked her head more firmly under his, "Good...because you can't imagine the trouble you'd be in if there were someone else."

Harry smirked slightly and kissed her brow, nudging aside thick locks of her hair with his nose.

"I missed this," Hermione murmured, as Harry pulled a blanket down from the back of the couch to cover them.

"Yeah," he replied, knowing that she wasn't talking about their earlier activities. He kissed her again, and they both looked over at a deep, pointed purr erupting from near Harry's ear on top of the couch. Harry rolled his eyes and started to pet Crookshanks. "You know that I only tolerate you because of your mum, Furball."

Crookshanks gave him a disbelieving look as Hermione snorted and buried her face in Harry's neck, before batting his head against Harry's hand. "Fine," Harry sighed, "I love you too," he murmured as he scratched the feline behind the ears to louder purrs.

Crookshanks jumped down from the top of the couch to wander off, exploring his new home most likely for any likely mouseholes, and Harry fell silent.

Hermione rolled in his lap, until she could lean back against him, and rest her head back on his shoulder. They watched the lights from the tree bounce off the glass of the window, competing with the low orange glow from the fire in the grate. "Does anyone else know you're back?" he asked after a few more silent moments.

"Not unless they were watching the Muggle arrival schedules at Heathrow," she replied, shrugging. "I suppose Grimlock does, since he handles both of our accounts at Gringotts, and I had to exchange some money..." she grinned crookedly, "you know, just in case you threw me out on the street on my bum or something."

"Good," Harry replied, grabbing her hand where it rested on the outside of the blanket, and interlacing their fingers, "I have you all to myself...I'll send in Hedwig in the morning, telling them I'm taking holiday until I get around to coming back."

"Honestly, Harry," she squirmed as his other hand, still under the blanket tickled her ribs, before cupping a breast lightly, "won't that get a tad boring-just you and me?"

"I think that we can find something to do." She nodded and kissed him, and let her head flop backwards to his shoulder.

"Why didn't we before, Harry?" Hermione asked, as she watched Crookshanks weave in and out of the presents. "It's not like either of us was with someone else..." she closed her eyes as a quick flicker of pain crossed her thoughts, "It's not like we felt any different, then."

He took a long breath in through his nose, and let it slowly out through his mouth, a breathing exercise learned during long days of desperate training, "Because we were scared shitless..."

"You're not now?" she asked softly, her tone relating her agreement more than any words she could possibly utter.

"Even more so," he whispered and closed his eyes, sending a tendril of magic dancing through the house towards the study. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, feeling the magic slip past her. "Even more so," he repeated and opened his eyes to find the small black box from earlier floating in front of them.

Hermione let out a sharp gasp, as Harry reached out and plucked the box from the air, opening it with one hand.

She lifted one hand to cover her mouth, as Harry pulled the ring free and sent the box floating away. He held it up to the light from the fire and the tree, the center diamond pulsing slowly with a soft white light. A pair of triangular stones on either side flashed, before fading to a deep, deep green, setting off the center diamond from the twisted water pattern of the blended platinum and gold ring. "I got this out of Gringotts the same day that I arranged for your...vacation," Harry explained, his voice tight. "I don't think I was even sure why I did it then, maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me how big a mistake I was making...Remus showed it to me, that summer after sixth year...said that Sirius had t...taken it off...m....mum, when he found them."

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "I..."

He shook his head, "You don't have to say yes or no...it's just that, yours is the face that I saw when I first touched it...and it's the only one I could ever see associated with it...Wear it or don't, it's..."

"Harry, love," Hermione interrupted, "what are you really asking?" She turned in his lap until she was straddling his legs, letting the blanket fall to the floor behind her. She lifted her right hand to lightly run her fingers through his hair over his left ear. Her fingers trailed down his neck to lightly press in the center of his chest, directly over his heart. Both of their eyes trailed down, to her hand on his heart, and then to the jagged scar between her breasts, before they looked up, holding the others' gaze.

He swallowed, and took a breath as he watched a small, half smile slip onto her face and dance in the depths of her eyes, which seemed to be lit with emerald sparkles of light, "Hermione Jane Granger..." she nodded, and blinked hard a couple of times trying to fight off sudden tears, "w...will you..."

Hermione leaned forward and rising on her knees, pressing her lips to him hard enough to push him back into the seat of the couch. She pulled back a hair, leaving her forehead resting lightly on his, "Yes...to being your wife, to bearing our children, and staying with you until the end of time...and beyond..." Harry grinned faintly, and she kissed him again quickly, "and almost anything else you can come up with, providing it involves you and I." She sat back on her bum, and watched, her hand trembling slightly as he slid the ring on her hand.

"I love you," Harry whispered as she fell forward and crushing him in her sudden grip. She nodded against his shoulder, and he felt warm tears trickle down his chest. "You know if you were anyone else, I'd be utterly flummoxed by you crying again."

"But I'm not," she replied, her voice muffled.

"No...you're not." She kissed the hollow of his throat, and Harry smiled absently, his thoughts both far away, and as close as his own soul at the same time. He luxuriated in the warmth of her body pressed to his and kissed her hair above her ear. "You know Ron and Luna shagged for like three days straight after she convinced him to give her a ring," Harry murmured suggestively.

A soft, bell-like laugh answered him, "Luna was already two months pregnant at the time," Hermione chuckled, "but I'm not saying that, that's a bad idea...however."

"Which part?" Harry asked with an odd combination of trepidation and eagerness.

She turned her head to rest her cheek on his shoulder, "Either..." his eyes widened and she shrugged faintly, as she reached up to cup his cheek in the palm of her left hand. The jewels in her new ring sparkled in the light of the tree as she answered him slowly, "The instant you asked me to marry you, I became your wife in truth, no matter what the Ministry or my parents or anyone says. I don't want to wait...we've waited long enough, haven't we?"

Harry just nodded.

He cradled her for a bit longer, letting it soak in, and bit off a quiet moan as she moved against him. He took a deep breath, and held her still as a sudden thought crossed his mind and a faintly devilish look filled his eye. "Don't we still owe Ron and Luna and the twins for that joke they pulled right after Ron started shagging Luna?"

"What do you have in mind," she murmured, starting to squirm against him again. He jumped before falling into her touch as she let her fingers push inside the waistband of his sleep pants, to start to massage his bum. "This isn't going to take much time," she pouted, "wanna get back to shagging," she rubbed her core against the front of his pants, "you seem ready enough."

Harry took a deep breath, "They've been on me for years to just get on with my life..."

Hermione smirked, "They'll never know what hit them, a few charms, blonde perhaps..." She stood from his lap and pulled him to his feet, before she twisted their arms together and started to pull him back towards the bedroom, "But for now, Mr. Potter, you have other things to do."

"Yes, Mrs. Potter," he replied obediently and was rewarded with a smile that almost stopped his heart as she pulled him into the bedroom without even closing the door behind them.

***********************The Burrow**************************

11:20am

A patch of air a half kilometer down the country lane that led to the seemingly ramshackle conglomeration of random bits and pieces that made up the Weasley's home wavered and solidified into two closely intertwined forms. Hermione smiled and leaned up, kissing him quickly before taking his hand in hers and starting off down the path with him in tow.

In the end, Harry and Hermione had tabled the majority of their nascent schemes to prank the Weasleys, at least for now. Though in truth, had it not been for the-slight delay getting out of bed-and then the shower, they might have gone forward with it. Instead, she just leaned against him as they crunched through the snow, having Apparated a touch outside of the house to give themselves time to walk.

The day had dawned crisp and clear, with the snow forming an unbroken field leading to the front porch of the Burrow, and the air just chill enough to bite. Harry looked down as they walked, watching the clouds of steam slipping from her lips, and grinning at the faint blush dusting her cheeks, a blush that had been on them, one way or another for almost a day now.

She slapped at his arm with her free, mittened hand, knowing his train of thought, before reaching up with that same hand and pulling his face down to hers. She sighed as she pulled away, and a brief annoyed grimace crossed her face, "I didn't get anyone anything..." Harry crooked an eyebrow, and she giggled, "Alright, you came out rather nicely in the bargain..."

"If you say so," he replied in a mock-affected air.

"But I..."

Harry kissed her forehead and pulled them back into motion, "You did, actually, at least for the kids...Dobby," he explained.

She rolled her eyes and nodded after a beat as they stepped up onto the porch, which was decorated with perhaps the selfsame set of Wellingtons that she had found there years and years ago.

The Burrow was once again the happy place it had been when Harry first saw it, all those years ago from the seat of a battered, blue, Ford Anglia. The scars of the wars, including a pitched battle here that had resulted in the loss of one of its former inhabitants, were gone, hidden under the concealing blanket of snow, and dimmed by the passage of time, besides. But even so there were changes.

A new, bright-green Mercedes SUV sat next to the storage shed, with the plates, "WHIZBNG", one of the twins' no doubt. A large, frozen-over fountain anchored Molly's garden, put there last year by the boys for her birthday, and if Harry or Hermione bothered to reach out with their magic, they could find the four Aurors on security detail, even today, under invisibility cloaks guarding the Minister of Magic.

Harry looked over at Hermione and she gave him a quick grin, before he opened the door into the house and stepped inside, with her following along. Instantly, the pair was thrust into a maelstrom of noise and light, as a half-dozen miniature lighted trees were swooping around randomly, a pair of red-headed boys, three and two sprinted by, both looking remarkably like Fred or George, and a large, fat grey and black-striped Kneazle, named Spork, meowed at them loudly.

The Kneazle was Ginny's new pet, a replacement for Arnold, who had been lost in the evacuation of Hogwarts during the war.

Hermione gasped softly from behind Harry as Luna walked by, seemingly without seeing them, dressed in a flowing, almost fairy-like green dress, trailed by two, identical four-year-old girls with long, flaming red hair, and oddly-ethereal grey eyes. The two girls, dressed exactly as Luna was, in miniature, were trailed in turn by a pair of cat-sized chestnut ponies, who neighed as they walked into the living room. "They really are just like her," Hermione breathed in Harry's ear, and he nodded.

"You have no idea..."

Harry took a step into the living room, and Luna's twins turned, "UNCLE HARRY!" they cried in unison, and charged him, the tiny horses breaking out into a trot to follow their mistresses. They crashed into his legs to hug him, and the room turned to the door.

Almost the entire Weasley clan was present and their significant others, except Bill and Fleur and their two children, Andrew and Bernice. Bill and Fleur were stuck on assignment in Hong Kong for Gringotts, Harry had had dinner with them a week ago, and Percy...who had died in the war, about a hundred yards from where they stood. No trace of that thought was present in the cries of greeting from Fred, Angelina, George, Alicia, Ron, Luna, Charlie, Molly or Arthur however, as Harry waved back, and knelt to hug his goddaughters.

A sudden hush fell over the boisterous room as Harry's movement exposed who had been standing behind him.

The twins looked past Harry and then up to him, before letting go of him and walking around to either side. The pair of tiny redheads looked up at her, and then at eye-level as she crouched down to them. "Are you Aunt Hermonee?" asked Moon, who was wearing a tiny pendant in the shape of a moon in deference to her father's occasionally tenuous grasp on sanity.

"Yes, I am," Hermione replied into the otherwise quiet room.

"Are you going to stay?" Sun went on.

Hermione's eyes flickered almost unnoticed to Harry, "For a very long time, yes."

"Uncle Harry has been very sad without you," mentioned Moon, "his Gringles have been all out of whack."

"I've been very sad without him too," Hermione whispered with just a trace of pain leaking through.

The girls looked at each other, communicating without words as Hermione looked back up to Harry and then back to them.

"Then why did you leave?" Sun questioned, and both girls cocked their heads to each side in an unpracticed synchronized movement.

Harry knelt next to Hermione, "Sometimes adults do stupid things for reasons that seem good at the time." He shrugged, "Sometimes they are afraid of something that they shouldn't be afraid of."

"Why?" both girls asked at once.

"Merlin only knows," Harry muttered and the twins looked at each other and started to play with their ponies again, evidently having lost interest in the topic...or perhaps they were just distracted by the shiny silver bridles the animated toys were wearing.

Harry and Hermione stood, only to almost lose her feet as Ron swept her up in a hug, and spun her around, before setting her down in front of him. "About bloody time," he replied gruffly, as Luna hugged Hermione, with slightly less histrionics, and kissed her cheek.

"Hello, Hermione," Ginny said with a trace of an undercurrent, walking in from another room with her son cradled on her hip. The two-year-old boy looked over at Hermione, and then buried his face in Ginny's shoulder so that only the top of his blonde hair showed as Ginny walked over to the couch and dropped down on it. "It's good that you're...back?"

Hermione sighed faintly, though only Harry heard the sound, and looked over at the smallest Weasley, that could use a wand anyway. Hermione beamed in return, and Harry, Ron and Luna all hid almost identical flinches. "Yes, Ginny, I am."

"That's good, I suppose you have a job lined up with a library somewhere?" she asked sweetly, and Hermione returned the look.

"Come on, Herms," Ron said loudly, throwing his arm around her shoulders, "I'm sure that the girls would love to show you their new toys." Ron led Hermione away, with Harry and Luna trailing, as he led them into the kitchen. "Sorry," he said before Hermione could round on him for using her hated nickname, "she's been like that since Draco left her...bloody prat."

"Which one?" Harry asked as he served himself a mug of more-than-slightly spiked egg nog and looked over to Hermione. She gave him a small nod and he handed it to her, before he fixed himself another and sat at the table. Hermione started to sit next to Harry, but sat across from him. Luna stared at her, and then at Harry. She looked over to Ron and gave him a meaningful look as Hermione slipped down to the floor as Sun and Moon walked in, their tiny ponies trailing them obediently.

"I got you two something," Hermione said, accepting at pair of small boxes from Harry, which expanded in her hands. She folded her legs Indian-style and shrugged off her coat, flipping it up and back at Harry, who sat it next to him. Hermione opened the boxes and handed the girls a pair of dolls, each looking exactly like the girls only in miniature and dressed in tiny jeans and jumpers.

Both girls hugged her after laughing in delight, and then settled down in front of her, setting the dolls on the horses, where they grabbed on and started to gallop laps around the dining room table. Hermione watched the girls for a moment, a faint longing expression on her face, before she met Harry's eyes.

Luna smirked slightly, as she bent down next to Hermione's ear, "So does Harry shag as good as he looks?"

"Luna," Hermione gasped as she flushed and dropped her head, hiding her face behind her curtain of hair. "Your daughters are..." Hermione looked around to find that the two girls had crawled under the table and were using chairs as corrals as they brushed their horses, and their doppelganger dolls were feeding them tiny apples. "They are right there..." she murmured. Her eyes widened, "How...I..."

"Auras," Luna replied in a word and Hermione closed her eyes. She heard Harry chuckle softly and she punched his leg to the accompaniment of a soft, "OW!"

Ron laughed uproariously, and Harry glared at him.

"Wondrously," Hermione replied very quietly, rising easily from her seat and taking a seat on Harry's knee. Harry's arms came around her automatically. She held up her left hand to Luna, and the blonde made a soft squealing sound, dropping to her knees to examine Hermione's ring.

"It rather is time, Harry, you should have given this to her four years ago," Luna said knowingly after a few moments spent examining the shimmer of the gemstones. "Ronald was much more prompt with mine," she stood and looked to Ron, who shrugged helplessly at Harry.

"Are you sure that you really want to do this, mate?" Ron asked, trying not to laugh, "she's rather...bossy." He looked to Hermione, "I can't even imagine..."

Harry kissed her cheek, tightening his arms around her, "Yeah...more than I could ever say." He swallowed heavily and Hermione looked back, lifting her hand to cup the back of his head and bring their foreheads together as tears shimmered in the corners of his eyes, "I screwed up once...I'm not going to again."

Ron nodded and took two steps forward, hugging them both, "Good," he said fiercely, "I've missed you too, sis." Hermione graced him with a tiny smile. "Not as much as Harry, here..."

"OI!"

"But too damn much," he finished feelingly, and let go of them, to pull Luna into his arms, and tuck her head under his chin.

Hermione looked down from them at a tug on her jeans, to find once again that both girls were looking up at her, "Are you going to be living with Uncle Harry?" asked Sun.

"He has an owl named Hedwig," Moon added, "it's a really silly name." Ron barked a laugh in the background. Luna rapped him behind the head, shutting him up, "She's very pretty though," Moon went on, "she lets us pet her...She doesn't like Dad's owl."

"I have a cat named Crookshanks," Hermione mentioned, and both girls giggled. "And yes," Hermione paused briefly, smiling at the very thought, "I am going to be living with Harry for the rest of our lives."

"That's a long time," Sun replied with the awe only a precocious four-year-old can generate. Moon nodded. The pair looked at each other for a few seconds, silently, and Moon nodded again, before the pair headed off again, with their herd in tow.

"You know I am really glad that you are back, Hermione," Luna said, glancing towards the door to the living room where the majority of the Weasleys were probably already trying to eavesdrop, and finding that they had been stymied by Luna's foresight of casting a Muffliato on the room. "I can have someone to talk to again..." Luna shrugged, "Ginny is quite bitter when she doesn't get shagged regularly...Though I admit that I am as well, but Ronald takes care of it..."

"I'm sure," Hermione replied wryly.

"When are you going to tell the rest?" Ron asked, looking meaningfully down at Hermione's hand, as she used her thumb to spin the stones to the inside.

Hermione looked back at Harry, he shrugged, and she smiled faintly, "I don't know, we are not exactly hiding it, but we haven't even told my parents yet..." she snorted softly, "Actually they still think I'm in Boston...Kinda surprised that Mum hasn't rung my mirror yet to say Happy Christmas...she and Dad are still probably...celebrating," she said with a small shiver.

Ron, Luna and Harry made identical faces at the thought. Ron watched as Moon started to set up a jumping course for the horses out of cups and bits of tableware, and thought, vaguely that he probably should stop her. He sighed, and watched as Harry nuzzled Hermione's neck absently, "You know the Prophet will be all over you two...it was bad enough with Luna and me..."

"And I," both women corrected him unthinkingly.

Ron shared an exasperated look with Harry, who carefully did not share it in return, before he shrugged, and kissed Luna's hair, "I never really believed Harry when he said he hated the fame, but after...and then after the Cannons signed me..."

"Ron punched a Prophet reporter when they tried to break in to get pictures of the girls at St. Mungo's," Harry explained, waving towards Sun as she snuck a cookie from a tray of them behind her parents as Ron and Luna pretended not to notice.

Sun sat down next to Moon and broke it in two and handed one half to her twin.

Hermione nodded, she had long since accepted the need for any extreme to keep those she loved safe. She gave Ron a quick smile, almost in thanks for his protection of her de facto nieces, even with her separation from them for the entire lives so far. "You know that you are going to get to babysit, don't you, Hermione?" Luna asked, smirking as she danced in Ron's arms, rocking back and forth to a music that no one else heard.

"I'd better," Hermione replied, looking back at Harry, "as long as you watch ours."

"Blimey," Ron muttered, "you work fast, Mate..."

"Not yet," Hermione assured him, "but I'm sure that he's up to it rather quickly."

Harry kissed the top of her head as he tightened his arms around her belly almost protectively. "We can get on that later tonight, if you'd like, Love," he whispered and she looked back at him, with her bottom lip in her teeth and faint shimmers of moisture in the corners of her eyes.

Hermione jumped slightly at a touch on her knee and looked down as Sun was pulling on her pants, "Can we go back into the other room, Aunt Hermonee?" she asked, her fingers twisting on the sides of her dress, "Grandmum has more cookies in there."

"Yeah, honey," Hermione replied, standing from Harry's lap, and taking the girl's hand in her right. Moon took her other and together, the girls pulled on her, taking her along with them as she and Harry returned to the rest of the family, and the lives they had put aside for four years.



finis

A/N: Ok there you go, Merry Christmas to Superbeffie, who was the recipient of this little gift. And now for the announcements.... Duh dum DUHHHHHHH!....

Most likely there will be the NC-17 version of this fic, as your probably know I can't resist it. If it's written, I'll try to have it up for New Years.

On Christmas and Christmas Eve...you might want to see if I've posted anything...Just a hint...It's possible that there might be something that more than a few people have asked for.

That's all, have fun, and Merry Christmas, to all and to all a good night (or day, depending on where you are).

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