Disclaimer: Most definitely not my characters. No money being made. Just working out my frustrations over what could have been since it's cheaper than therapy.
Author's Note: There are currently only two chapters of this story at the moment. I have ideas for more, but I do not know when the time or the muse will cooperate so I can write more. In the meantime, enjoy some holiday H/Hr!
Originally written as part of the LiveJournal 2007 holiday H/Hr fest, a_pumpkin_xmas. Check it out for more great H/Hr fic and art.
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Harry woke the next morning, disoriented when he saw his sitting room instead of his bedroom. Hermione was next to him, but not clinging to him as he remembered. Neither did he remember being tucked in under the blankets. He slipped out of the bed and went to the kitchen. It was his turn to supply breakfast.
Hermione woke to the smell of rashers and toast and padded into the kitchen. She seized Harry's hand and removed the fork he was holding, laying it aside. Then she drew him into a warm embrace.
"Thank you for last night."
He hugged her back. "You're very welcome. How'd you sleep?"
"Very well, though I did wake once and decided to get some covers for us." She moved back and took his face in her hands. "I mean it. Thank you. It helped a great deal." She drew him forward and kissed the tip of his nose impishly, deliberately shifting the mood. "Now, what can I do to help?"
Harry followed her lead, trying to ignore the tingle of his skin where her lips had landed. "If you'll get the glasses from the cupboard and the juice, we're just about ready."
As they started eating, Hermione asked, "So, what should we do with the day today?"
"Well, did you know they've got ice skating at Hyde Park?"
"Oh dear, I'm rubbish at skating."
"Well, I've never been on skates in my life, so I fully expect you to spend most of the time laughing as I fall on my arse."
Hermione chuckled, then grew solemn. "I had an idea, but you don't have to come with me."
Harry put his fork down. "When you say it like that, I know I'll probably feel like I must. What is it?"
"I thought about…going to my parents' grave. Leaving some flowers or something."
Harry paused. After a moment, he reached over and took her hand. "I'll go with you, if you'll go with me."
Hermione smiled, although her chin trembled slightly. "A fair trade if I ever heard one."
They decided to visit the graveyards first. They went back to Covent Garden to a flower shop Hermione knew of and bought bright arrangements of ivy and evergreen with red berries and white flowers. Then they Apparated into a copse of woods next to where her parents were buried.
Harry hung back as Hermione approached the graves. She set the basket of flowers between the two flat plaques in the ground and knelt there for several moments. He watched as her head suddenly bowed and her shoulders shook and started forward. But when she lifted her head again and squared her shoulders, he paused. That's my girl, he thought with fierce pride.
Before he could wonder at the strength of that thought, Hermione was getting to her feet and walking back to him, wiping her eyes with her gloved hands. "Shall we, then?"
He nodded and closed his eyes to Apparate away.
They arrived in Godric's Hollow a few feet apart; constant practice during what would have been their seventh year had made it possible for them and Ron to always Apparate closer than had been advised by their trainers in Hogwarts. This time Hermione stayed back slightly as they approached the elegant tombstone that listed his parents' names.
Harry set his basket below their names and knelt on the cold ground. I miss you, Mum. I miss you, Dad. Now that Voldemort is gone and I'm not in fear of my life every waking moment, I think I'm going to miss you a lot more. He glanced back at Hermione, who was intently studying a nearby gravestone so as not to hover over him. But I've got friends. I've got a future thanks to you.
He stood and dusted off his knees. Hermione came to his side and took his hand.
"You OK?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I think I am. You?"
She gave a small smile. "Getting there."
***
They Apparated back to London. Harry was surprised to discover that the rink at Hyde Park booked in advance and that they wouldn't be able to skate there. The attendant kindly handed Harry a pre-printed list of other rinks in London, and Hermione studied it.
"Somerset House and the Tower of London will be packed. Let's try the one at the Natural History Museum. It's out of the way enough that it won't draw as many tourists."
They took the Tube and found that Hermione's prediction was correct. They got skates and laced them on, then held onto each other carefully as they made their way to the rink. Hermione was thoroughly disgusted when Harry quickly found his balance and began gliding across the ice, while she tottered and tried to keep her ankles from bending. So totally not fair.
Harry swung up behind her, laughing. "Hey, this is easy! Just like flying!" Hermione glared at him and he stuck his tongue at her. He took off again and Hermione simply stopped at the railing to watch him. He was smiling so radiantly that several of the people he passed paused to watch him as well.
He went around a few more times, and on the last lap started trying to skate backward. After a few false starts he was quickly skimming across the ice in reverse, then turning easily to go forward again.
He stopped in front of Hermione, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes and her mouth twisting at one corner in disgruntlement. He grabbed her hands. "Come on, hang onto me."
"Harry, wait…Harry!" She dared not struggle much, lest she pull him down among the other skaters. He held her firmly and drew her along.
"Just go with it, Hermione. Don't think about it…feel it!" As she began to move more steadily, Harry switched from skating backwards in front of her to going beside her, his hand still firmly supporting her elbow. She gasped as she nearly lost her balance, and Harry moved closer, switching the hand that held hers and putting the other at her waist. "Come on, left…right…" She tried to match his stride, thankful that he wasn't as tall as Ron or this would never have worked. She leaned into him, taking comfort in his solid presence, as she tried to remember seeing pair skaters on television and copy how they had moved.
He guided her around for a few laps, and then slid away from her slightly, still gripping her hand. She tightened her fingers around his hand, looking at him uncertainly, and found him watching her, nodding his encouragement. Their eyes locked for a moment…his belief in her and her confidence in him flowing back and forth…
And suddenly Hermione was sprawled on the ice, her skate caught in a small tree branch that had blown down from overhead. Harry had kept his feet, but was bent over awkwardly, his hand still clasped in hers. He knelt, trying to shield her from the other skaters that were beginning to crowd around. He saw the awareness growing in her face, of the pain as the wrist of her free hand was bending in a way it had no business doing so.
Harry moved to gather her up, and a voice stopped him. "Wait, son. Not on skates." The man sent a girl over to the railings, where she waved frantically for help. Harry seethed with the need to get Hermione out of sight where he could fix the break, to spare her every second of pain that he could, and had to force himself to wait.
When two of the skating attendants arrived, walking steadily across the ice in rubber-soled boots, Harry had gotten Hermione in a sitting position and her arm somewhat immobilized with his scarf. The attendants linked arms and Harry and the man got Hermione seated on them. They carried her to a chair and talked about calling for an ambulance.
"No need, my car's nearby. If she can walk a few steps-" Harry paused briefly to look at Hermione, who nodded even as she bit her lip. "-then I'll drive her myself. We just need to get these skates off." Harry let one of the attendants take care of Hermione's skates while he exchanged his own for his shoes. With repeated assurances to the others that they could handle it, Harry helped Hermione walk out.
"Merlin's teeth, this hurts!" Hermione hissed when they were out of earshot. Harry drew her into the shadows between two stately columns and took out his wand.
"Good thing I'm not Lockhart," he murmured, and was rewarded with a chuckle from Hermione, though her face was white and drawn from the pain. He pointed his wand at the break. "Bracchium emendo."
Hermione drew a deep breath. "Thank you." She rubbed her wrist where the break had been. "I'm sorry. I should have been watching where I was going."
"It wasn't just you, I wasn't paying attention either. I'm just sorry that the skating is over so quickly, unless you fancy finding another rink and trying again?"
"No, no," Hermione shook her head. "I've had quite enough of skating. And it's going to be too cold tonight for wandering around. I say we buy what we need for a little Christmas feast and carry it back to your place."
"All right, but let's fetch Crookshanks from your flat. It's only a few streets over from here, isn't it?"
"You're right, it is. And I know just the place to buy our food." Linking her newly-healed arm in his, Hermione led the way.
***
Like the previous evening, they ended up in Hermione's bed. This time they cheerfully pulled Muggle crackers apart as they munched on Turkish Delight and mince pies. Harry was wearing a red paper crown and Hermione had a silver pasteboard tiara. They groaned over the inane jokes in the messages, crumpled the papers up, and tossed them for Crookshanks to chase. At one point Crookshanks managed to bat his prey under a set of shelves and Hermione went to retrieve it. Harry moved over to the telly to find one of the BBC broadcasts of holiday concerts. It took him a moment to realize that Hermione hadn't moved from his bookcase.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"Could I ask you something?"
"Of course." He turned to her and paused a moment. Hermione was holding a small picture that belonged on the top shelf, along with several others of friends from Hogwarts. This one was of him and Ginny, taken at his seventeenth birthday party just before he, Hermione and Ron had departed to start their desperate search for Voldemort's Horcruxes. In the moving photo, the image of Ginny was clinging to Harry, playing with his hair, and flirting like mad, while the image of Harry was looking rather embarrassed over it.
"Do you think about her a lot?"
Harry paused a moment, studying Hermione. She was tense, her shoulders rigid, even though she'd asked the question nonchalantly. She was looking at the photo with her lips pressed together.
He came over to her and took the photo from her. "I think about her in the way I think about most of the people who died. They cross my mind sometimes-her more than most because of Ron and the rest of the Weasleys."
"But you were dating in our sixth year. And I know you thought about her during the months we spent trying to destroy the Horcruxes."
Harry put the picture back in its place. "We wouldn't have lasted if she'd lived, if that's what you want to know. She was an escape for me, someone I could pretend to be just a normal guy with, so I could forget about being the Saviour of the Wizarding World for a while.
"I could go into her world, where everything was calm and peaceful on the surface. But she wouldn't go into mine. For one thing, I wouldn't let her in. For another, she didn't try to get in. When I broke up with her after Dumbledore's funeral, I was ready. I had all the arguments set out for why she couldn't come with me-the same arguments you and Ron wouldn't even let me begin to use-and she never asked. Not once."
He looked straight into Hermione's eyes. "I don't know if I ever properly said it, but thank you. Thank you for sticking with me through it all, even when I didn't want you there. Thank you for making it possible for me to defeat him."
She blushed, her eyes shining with tears about to fall. Harry paused, looking at her as if he wanted to memorize every detail…the way the fairy lights made her eyes glisten and her hair shine…the way she was about to bite her lip to keep the words from coming, from downplaying what she had done for him and for the wizarding world.
He wanted to kiss her. Instinctively he wanted to reach out, take her face in his hands, and plant his lips on hers. And he thought perhaps she was feeling the same pull. He knew she wouldn't do it, though. Hermione was reason and logic personified and would come up with a hundred reasons not to cross that line, not the least of which was risking the precious friendship they had, or upsetting the balance they had with Ron…
And then, as he had done so often in his life, Harry followed his instincts.
He felt Hermione draw back slightly in surprise, but he followed her and refused to lose contact with her warm lips. He slid one hand behind her neck and into her hair and felt her hands creep up to his shoulders. Encouraged, he parted his lips and even as he was about to touch his tongue to her mouth, asking to be let in, her hands flew up and tangled in his hair as she deepened the kiss.
Harry felt his knees turn to water as they continued to plumb the depths of each other's mouths with their tongues. He pushed her against the wall and pinned her there, continuing to snog her passionately as he fumbled to reach under her jumper.
Hermione tried to push his hands back and finally jerked her head to one side, breaking off the kiss. "Harry, wait. Wait!"
He pulled back, breathing heavily, and propped himself with his hands to either side of her, keeping her in his arms. "Why?" he gasped. "Don't you want this?"
Her expression melted into an apology even as her eyes burned into his. "I do-" Harry eagerly moved to resume snogging, but she ducked under one arm and out of his embrace. "I do, but I don't want us to rush anything and ruin this before it's begun."
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to beat down the impulse, the need to take her in his arms again and lower her onto the bed that was sitting so conveniently behind her.
Seeing that he was going to listen, Hermione took his hands and drew him to sit on the edge of the bed. "I want this, Harry. I've wanted it for a long time. But please…we have to take it slowly. If we mess this up by moving too fast, if we don't give Ron and the others time to adjust…we could make a mistake that could end our friendship forever. And you mean too much to me to risk that. I can't not have you in my life, Harry, even if that means never kissing you again."
She took his face in her hands. "Can you do that for me?"
Harry turned his head and buried his lips in the palm of her hand. He heard the slight gasp in her breath and felt her hands tremble. Smiling slightly at the knowledge that she was as aflame with desire as he was, he replied, "I'll do whatever it takes for us to be together, Hermione."
She grimaced. "Then you can start by taking yourself into your room to sleep. It's getting late."
"My room? But it felt so good to sleep next to you last night," Harry protested.
"I know. And that's why I want you a safe distance away tonight." Hermione pulled him to his feet and gently but firmly pushed him toward his bedroom.
"Not even a good-night kiss?"
She darted in for a quick kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Harry."
***
Harry spent one of the longest nights he could remember, tossing and turning and unable to think of anything but Hermione lying in the bed in the next room. He got up when light began to filter through the curtains and tried a cold shower. He went into the sitting room to find Hermione asleep with a book by her side. Harry picked it up, curious, and found that Hermione's solution had been to bore herself to sleep with a copy of Middlemarch that had been left by the previous tenant. Smiling, he replaced the book and went into the kitchen to scrounge up breakfast.
He had finished preparing bangers and eggs when Hermione wandered in, her eyes sporting dark circles underneath. "Happy Christmas, Harry."
"Happy Christmas. I see you slept about as well as I did."
She smiled ruefully and went to put the kettle on. Harry reached over and pulled her into a hug, which she returned. She kissed him and slipped away to fetch mugs from the cupboard.
"Breakfast and then presents?"
Harry nodded in agreement as he transferred the sausages from pan to plate. They ate companionably, speculating on what Ron and the Weasleys might be doing today in faraway California. Harry cleared the table while Hermione poured out the last of the tea to carry back into the sitting room.
They had set their presents under the tree. Hermione looked at the small box wrapped in shiny red paper and wondered what Harry could have possibly found for her. She reached under the tree and brought out the larger box for him. "You first."
"I won't argue with that," he replied cheerfully, and began tearing off the snowflake-patterned paper.
Hermione watched, a little worried now that Harry was actually opening her gift. He lifted the lid of the box and looked for a moment, then tossed the lid aside. He drew out the jumper and let it unfold, looking at the rich, tapestry-like blend of blue, green, gold and burgundy wool. And though he was troll-level stupid when it came to clothes, even he recognized the name on the tag.
"Wow, Hermione. This is…" He held it up under his chin. "Are you sure I'm ready for the runway?"
She laughed. "I did think it was time you had some really nice clothes. You still wear those old castoffs under your robes half the time. And while I know Mrs. Weasley knits with love, a handmade jumper with a dragon on it's not exactly what you'd wear to a fancy restaurant."
He set the jumper down and held up the beige trousers she'd bought to match. "You cheated. There's no way these cost less than twenty pounds."
"Oh ye of little faith! Don't you know how much stores slash their prices for the last shopping days?"
He gave a crooked smile. "Guess I went shopping in the wrong place, then." He leaned down and plucked the small box from under the tree. "Your turn."
Hermione unwrapped it carefully, untying the bow and pulling the paper off slowly to keep it in one piece. She could sense Harry's tension as he watched. Inside was a velvet-covered box that could only hold jewellery. She opened it and gasped.
It was a silver bracelet, heavy with sparkling charms. She pulled it out to get a better look, breathing, "Oh, Harry!"
He relaxed and smiled. "I know you don't usually wear any jewellery, but I was poking through this one shop and saw some parents choosing a charm to add to their daughter's bracelet and it just hit me."
Hermione was turning the bracelet over in her hands, looking at each of the charms he'd chosen. There was an open book, a cat that looked quite close to Crookshanks, a quill, a tiny castle, and an hourglass. "Is that…?"
"Closest I could get to the Time-Turner, yes. There's room to add more charms. Like the one that's under the pasteboard there."
"Goodness, there's more?" Hermione pulled the pasteboard up to find a tiny silver Christmas tree, studded with red and gold stones and a wee gold star.
"One for our first Christmas together, if you will," Harry leaned forward, sliding one hand up her neck to cup her cheek, and kissed her gently.
Hermione leaned back for a moment. "The first of many more," she replied, and returned his kiss firmly.