The Meaning of Christmas

A/N:I'm back...after a gruelling semester, I finally found time to sit down and write something other than ridiculously long reading notes...as it's Christmas, I thought I'd do a one-shot...'twill be a departure from the cute Christmas stories, and take it down to bare bones with view of human tragedy...

The Meaning of Christmas

They had barely escaped their pursuers.

Recently, the Death Eaters had become much bolder in their attacks. In their last encounter, Seamus Finnigan had been grievously injured, and Hermione came out with a few scrapes. The three of them had found an abandoned wooden shack in a grove off the main road, and took cover within its rotted walls. The Death Eaters lost their tracks, and had continued on...

To make matters worse, tonight was Christmas Eve. In the secret communication between Hermione and her parents, she had agreed to visit them clandestinely for three days to observe the celebration. Unfortunately, a Death Eater patrol had spotted them, and their flight resulted in the momentary safety of the miserable shack, in which they were now residing.

Harry had sealed the walls with a charm to prevent the cold air from entering through the cracks. He also started a magical fire for warmth, while disillusioning the entire building to assure it was not seen by unfriendly eyes.

“Do you think they will come back this way?” Hermione asked him tensely, as she peered for the umpteenth time between the boards in the darkness outside. Other than snow, however, little else was visible.

“I don't think so,” Harry tried to reassure her once more. “They didn't see us come in here.”

Hermione's jaw tightened, but she did not reply. Instead, she sat back down on her rickety chair, and clutched the mug of tea in her hands. From the corner, Seamus groaned unconsciously in his sleep; it was a good sign - he had a chance to recover. The firelight illuminated the dark patch of bandage, soaked with blood at his side...

“Water...” Seamus whispered through dry lips.

Hermione was at his side in an instant, and with a flick of her wand, produced the desired glass of water. She held it up to Seamus' mouth and gently poured it down his throat - he instinctively gulped.

Immediately after, he quietened down and slipped back into the recesses of sleep.

Harry regarded her as she sat back on her chair, deep in thought.

“I want to be with them, Harry,” she whispered, so as to not wake up her patient, “I promised Mum and Dad I would be with them this Christmas.”

“I know, Hermione, and I think that we will,” Harry reassured her, “only we have to make it to your parents' undetected...”

“And with Seamus,” she pointed out.

“Will they take care of him?” he asked uncertainly, “If your parents are unofficially a target for the Death Eaters.”

“They won't deny me,” she replied with certainty. “If there was only a way to reach them, to let them know where we are.”

As if fate had heard her, the fierce rustling of wings became discernible through the sounds of the wind outside. Harry stood up immediately, and clutched the wand at his waist.

“Go beside Seamus,” he directed her quietly, and she retreated to their injured friend's side.

The wings flapped more insistently, and now came from the direction of the door. Still wary, Harry approached deftly, and seized the handle. With one quick motion, he pulled it open, with a repelling charm on the edge of his tongue...

Along with the fierce wind and snow, the recognizable form of Hedwig flew in, and swooped around the little cabin. Harry managed to glimpse her, before closing the door with some difficulty, and lowering his wand back into its holster.

“Hedwig!” Hermione exclaimed.

The brilliantly white owl circled once more, and landed on Harry's shoulder heavily. She was visibly tired from what must have been a long journey. Harry took Hedwig from his shoulder, and placed her on the chair he was sitting on earlier.

“Long flight, girl?” he questioned his pet quietly, while conjuring a bagful of owl treats from thin air.

While Hedwig recovered her strength, Harry took the rolled up scroll attached to her foot. The wax seal had the seal of Hogwarts on it, and he wondered why the school would write to him now, of all times...

He broke it open, and skimmed the contents, with Hermione watching him intently from the corner; Seamus was still soundly asleep.

Harry,

We know where you are. Word has been sent to Hermione's parents that you're safe, although delayed. Help will arrive as soon as the Death Eater patrols in the area subside. Intelligence tells us that the case will be so in a day, two at most. Do watch over Seamus, and make sure he lives - we need him. I sincerely hope you and Hermione are both doing well.

Best,

Minerva.

The note was hastily written, and although it bore their old teacher's semblance of fine cursive, it was difficult to read.

“Harry?” Hermione questioned him, “what does it say?”

His eyes snapped up to her. “We have to lay low for a few days, Hermione,” he told her, “the others know where we are, and as soon as the Death Eaters are gone, we'll be picked up - and your parents know we're stranded for the time being. Here,” he handed her the letter.

Hermione's eyes travelled rapidly over the parchment, and a sigh escaped her, showing her frustration and disappointment.

“So that means we're going to have to spend Christmas in this miserable shack!” she exclaimed.

Harry didn't respond right away, but the words that eventually escaped him, were heavy with significance. “At least, we have another Christmas to celebrate. For all you know, all of us could be rotting in the snow outside right now.”

Hermione's breath hitched, and she closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she realized the gravity of what Harry had just said. “Yes - yes, you're right,” she told him quietly.

He made his way over to her, his boots echoing as they hit the wooden floor, and bent down to embrace her. “We're alive, Hermione. I couldn't ask for more,” he whispered in her ear.

Seamus mumbled in his sleep, and shifted slightly under his covers. It was becoming apparent that his condition was slowly improving.

“I know, Harry,” Hermione rejoined quietly. “Just...”

Harry put a finger on her lips. “I know,” he said, “life can be disappointing, but you have to always seek the positive.”

Hermione smiled slightly, but didn't respond. Her mind did turn to look for the positive thoughts Harry had mentioned, and she didn't notice him leaning in closer and closer...

Until she felt his lips on hers - when, or how, she didn't realize, but this moment she had imagined...was it real? Maybe she was dreaming...

However, the thought was certainly positive - and would make for a very nice Christmas memory in these dangerous and uncertain times...

A/N Just a little story to get the creative juices flowing once more...hope it was half decent...

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