A/N: I have just recently become bored with Harry and Ginny stories. Hermione is my favorite character of the series, so I figured I'd try a Harry/Hermione fic. This story may have lemon in it, not sure I've never tried it. So i hope you enjoy it!
Santa Claws is coming to Town
The snow fell silently over the city of London. With Christmas just a few days away, the streets and buildings were decorated festively; lights and wreathes plastered from windows and streetlights, small ceramic reindeer rested in infinite slumbers on displays. From some of the stores came soft and calm music, adorning the up coming holiday.
With a full moon over town, a man ran the streets. His trainers made prints in the snow that had covered the sidewalk, long after men had stopped shoveling it. Puffs of smoke flew from his mouth as he raced along the white walk. The man- with a bit of a pudgy stomach and looked to be about twenty- looked over his shoulder constantly. He came to a corner and skidded around it, waving his arms frantically to keep his balance.
"Please," he breathed out hoping that someone would hear, "Merlin, please don't let me stop!" His silent, frantic, tone was labored and forced. He kept running through various side streets, taking small shortcuts as he went. It was obvious that he was running from something, something that wanted him.
One alley made him stop with a skid. He started to sob. "No, no, no! Fuck!" It was a dead end. He turned to run back through the way he came, but he froze. Something had been following and that something was standing in the middle of the alley. "Who are you?! Why are you doing this to me?!" the man tore at his hair, screaming at the figure.
It cocked its head to the side, almost curiously, before it threw its head back. Long locks of hair flew with it, spreading widely. A harsh, echoing metallic laughter bounded off of the walls, taking a long time to dissipate into the night sky.
"WHO ARE YOU?!" He backed up against the wall, sliding down into the snow. He sobbed into his hands.
The thing moved forward-each step covered at least a meter and a half-walking as gracefully as a professional dancer. As it reached the man it cocked its head again, looking down in pity and disgust. It wasn't a worthy opponent, but it did fire at him, that made it right for the man to be killed.
The man looked up as he heard clicking, his face contorted to a look of horror. It grabbed him by the throat, lifting him three meters off of the ground. The man tore at the hand, trying to pry it loose, and kicked at its stomach. There was no avail. He could only watch as the snowflakes melted on its body, as the other arm rose into the air.
There were only three more sounds that night. The last scream of the captured man was the first. It was followed by a series of tearing and ripping noises. Finally, there was a triumphant roar rising high into the night.
"Harry?" Hermione asked him. She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all in the Gryffindor Common Room; all sitting in front of a roaring fire.
"Hmm?" came the response, the young wizards eyes closed and leaning against the couch cushion.
"Have you given any thought of what you want to do when we leave Hogwarts?" He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Like I mean have you really though about it?"
"Come on Hermione!" Ron whined. "Not this again? Why can't we just have one day, just one, where we aren't planning anything?"
"Ron, I'm just curious." Hermione twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
"Well just leave it. I mean, you don't have to nag all the time do you."
"No… I guess not." She quietly got up and went through the portrait hole, not before Harry saw the tears in her eyes.
"Nice one Ron." He smacked the redhead and went after Hermione.
"Hey!" He yelled at him, but the boy was already gone.
"Hermione!" Harry was running after her. "Wait!" She didn't stop, not until he finally reached her. Her eyes were teary and bloodshot; her arms were wrapped around herself, hugging her body. She wouldn't look him in the face. Harry lifted her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Hey, come on now. Where's that smile at?" She avoided his eyes. He turned his head upside down. "Oup! There it is!" She laughed a little and wiped her eyes. "There's the Hermione I know." He hugged her, which she returned earnestly.
"I'm sorry. He just… I don't know why I ever liked him."
"Wait, liked? As in you don't anymore?" She shook her head. "Well… Who do you like?"
"Just some guy." She absentmindedly kicked her shoes together, again avoiding his eyes.
"Hermione, I want you to know," he started off nervously, "that you have always been my best friend. You always will be." She nodded, still not looking at him.
"Same here. Harry?"
"Yeah?" She finally looked at him.
"Would you mind if I told you something, like something no-one else knows?" She asked, a blush rising into her cheeks.
"Not at all. In fact, I'd be more than honoured. Hold on though, let's find somewhere more private." He pulled her into the nearest empty classroom and sat on a desk. "Okay, shoot."
"I'm in love." She blurted out. Her hands flew to her mouth, as her eyes grew big. Harry just sat there and grinned.
"I'm happy for you!" He pulled her into a hug. "Who's the lucky guy? Or girl? OW!" He earned a smack in the arm. "But seriously, who is he?" She took a breath and crushed her mouth onto his. His eyes flew wide-open, shock settling in, before he kissed back.
Fifteen minutes later found the two fighting for breath and tongues returning to their rightful owners.
"Does that… answer your question?" She panted.
He nodded. "And I believe you now know who I love?" She grinned a huge smile.
"Well Mr. Potter," she walked seductively back up to him, flicking the opening of his collar and sliding a hand through his hair, "whatever are we going to do now?"
"Oh, I'm sure we can-" but another mouth was crushed to his. His hands went for the top of her shirt, unbuttoning it as he fought for dominance in the battle of mouths…
"Harry!" Hermione said groggily. He opened his eyes quickly and sat up.
"Whasgoingon?" He rubbed at the crust sticking his eyelids. He got a bearing on his surroundings. It was completely dark in the room. "Hermione," he reached over and found her face, "are you okay?"
"Besides your finger in my nose," she laughed as he blushed in the dark and pulled his hand away, "yes love I'm fine. You however have an owl." He sighed and went over to the window.
"You know you woke me from the most amazing dream!" He opened the window and the owl hopped in, shooting its leg out. He took the letter and gave the owl a treat, as it flew off he walked back over to his bed.
"Mmm?" She lazily answered.
"Yes indeed, twas the day in which we… confessed to each other." Even in the dark he saw her smile. Laughing, he turned on the light. She groaned in protest. "Sorry! Here." He placed his pillow over her eyes. He saw her smile again.
"Thanks." She whispered.
"Always." He opened the letter and began to read. It dropped from his fingertips as he stared at the empty air where it had been.
"What's it about?" Hermione asked, her arm draped over the pillow. "Harry?" She pulled the pillow away and looked at him, squinting at the light. "Harry honey, what's wrong?" She reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't respond. She grabbed the letter and began to read. Her mouth dropped as tears sprung to her eyes. "Oh Harry… I'm so sorry. Tell Kingsley you can't take this one!" She pulled him into a hug, in which he actually returned.
"You know I can't do that." He whispered. He kissed her head and got dressed. It was his holiday, so he dressed in a more comfortable muggle attire.
Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and pouted childishly. He looked back at her. "Oh don't be like that."
"I don't want you to go." She crossed her arms over her naked chest.
"Hermione, you know if it was anyone but him I wouldn't go…" He tried to plead with her.
"But it's our vacation! I want to spend it with you, that's the reason I agreed to marry you Potter, so I could always be with you!" He sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Hermione… Wait, I have an idea." She raised her eyebrow.
"I'm listening…"
"How about you come with me?" Her face remained unchanged, until the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. "I know it really isn't better conditions, but I'd be able to deal with it a lot better with you there." He shrugged. "That is if you want t-" a pair of lips cut him off. The wet smacks of their mouths stopped as he began to talk. "I'll take it as a yes. Now go get changed." She moved to the dresser and he pinched her exposed bottom. She glared at him. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
It took them fifteen minutes to get completely dressed and apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. He and Hermione waved to Tom, the owner, and they walked into muggle London.
As they looked at all of the festive decorations, they came to the alleyway. They walked into said alleyway, and identified themselves. The wards went up behind them as the two came up to the crime scene.
Kingsley Shacklebolt looked up from the mangled body, nodding to Harry. "Hello Potter, Mrs. Potter."
"Hello Kingsley." The both responded. Harry peeked around the man to get a closer look at the body. His face blanched and he turned to his right, away from his wife, and began to vomit. His knees hit the pavement harshly, as he spilled his stomach all out onto the ground. Hermione rubbed his back and spoke comfortingly into his ear.
He stopped and looked up at his mentor. "Jesus kid, I've never once seen you throw up…"
"Well I've never seen a body… quite like that. Are you sure it's him?" Kingsley nodded grimly.
"I lost my stomach when I saw him too." He was handing Harry the wallet when Hermione blanched and began to retch next to Harry. He pulled the hair out of her eyes and began to speak comfortingly. She stopped and got to her feet, still wobbling.
"Sorry." She said meekly, a blush creeping to her pale complexion.
"Hermione it's fine. Are you okay?" She nodded, pushing herself into him, shielding her head in his neck. Kingsley handed him the wallet and he looked from the body to the identification. The body was missing its head, and was skinned, stuck to the wall. The wallet had been taken from the clothes pile off to the side, which was also laced with organs and the missing skin. "Jesus Christ." The I.D. confirmed the death: Neville Longbottom.
I'd really like some feedback on this one. Sorry it was slow, it's going to get a lot better, and I am going to finish this one! So just leave a review telling me what you thought, It'd be much appreciated.
