Disclaimer: not mine, dammit. You just insist sprinkle salt on my wounds. It's JK Rowling's, OK!
Name: Christmas Miracles, and Playing the Guitar.
Gift for / dedicated to: Noga, who translated for me a lot of stories. I love you.
Rating: K
Pairing: Dean Thomas / Hermione Granger
Summery: There are Christmas miracles, Impacted by one song on the guitar. Fluffy one. Hope you'll like.
Author's note: Oh, listen, I am writing the third chapter of "He never thought she would be so complicated" and in the mean while it just… stuck into my head ... Hope you will forgive me:)
Dean sat in the common room on an armchair by the fire. It was Christmas Eve, and everyone exchanged gifts, laughing, eating. As people started leaving, late at night, Dean pulled out his guitar and started playing quiet Christmas poems.
His eye fell on her, sitting in the armchair next to him. Hermione Granger.
Brown hair pinned back loosely, a big book in her lap and her legs tucked under her, as she hums the song Dean's fingers plucked on the strings of the guitar.
"Dean? Oi, mate, I'm going upstairs" Seamus tapped on his shoulder. Dean looked up.
"Wha, what? Yeah, right, good night," he said, distracted. Seamus grinned and rolled his eyes.
They were the only ones reminded. Dean and Hermione.
Her brown eyes were still fixed on the book, while she was occasionally scribbling notes on the paper.
He noticed a plaid blanket around her.
Now, he had a plan!
Dean changed the song, to a quiet and sweet one he once heard on the radio on holiday. Hermione looked up when she recognized it.
"How do you know that song?" she asked.
"I heard him on the radio. It's my favorite song," he said, and smiled, his fingers never stopping their movement.
She smiled back.
"Mine to," she said, and bowed her head again.
"Care to share your blanket, Mio? Little cold here." Dean said after a moment, grinning mischievously
"N-no. Of course not," she smiled, and stood, passing by, when she realized there was no other way.
She sat down again, her feet under her and spread the blanket over them.
The fire dyed her brown hair with golden tones.
Dean was humming quietly, feeling Hermione's body close to his.
"Mio?" Dean said softly after a few minutes.
She looked up, and he stopped playing.
Slowly, he raised his hand to stroke her cheek. Her eyes were fixed on his own. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers softly, and they parted in a moment.
It was a brief kiss, sweet, innocent. Dean thought it was perfect.
When they parted Dean opened his eyes, and looked at her. He saw her blush. She was so beautiful.
"I wanted to do it for a long time," he murmured against her lips
"Me too" came a quiet, surprising, reply.
Dean smiled broadly and put his arm around her shoulders.
'That's a nice Christmas miracle' Dean thought to himself, as he twirled a lock of unruly brown hair around the fingers of his right hand.
Well, I promised you a fluffy pic.
Meet your expectations?
Love and waiting for comments, 'cause any comment worth something
Love,
TheGrimGirl