(Part one, stay tuned for more H/H! I love it! Whahaha!)            

Unkempt waves of non-descript brown framed Hermione's oval face, wild and untamable and hateful to Hermione, who sat staring into her mirror in mild disgust. She brushed it, combed it, brushed it again, wet it, dried it, and combed it again, but nothing happened to the mass of brown curls that hung around her head. No matter what she did, it simply sprang back as if nothing had happened. Finally, thoroughly frustrated, Hermione pulled back her hair into a simple ponytail, and threw on a dark green sweater and a long gray skirt before hurrying out of the dorm, the door slamming behind her.

                "Merry Christmas Hermione!" called Ginny Weasley, leaving her own dormitory and running down the hall towards her. "Have you seen Ron yet?" she asked, looking around. Then she left Hermione alone in the hall, with nothing but her unkempt curls and melancholy thoughts. It was her seventh year at Hogwarts, already the Christmas holidays, and she knew that soon it would all be over, this wonderful time that she'd had here at the wizard school, and she hadn't even told him yet. She and Harry and Ron had been together for seven years, and she hadn't yet managed to work up the courage to look into his sparkling green eyes and tell him the truth.

                She opened the door to the common room, which was shining merrily with pretty Christmas lights and decorations hanging from the ceilings and windows…and a soft glow was coming in through those same windows, having nothing to do with the decorations. "Hermione!" Called Ron Weasley, rushing over with Harry in hot pursuit. "Hermione, it's snowing, look!" She walked to the window, and gazed out, seeing the white flakes pouring down, creating a glimmering haze in the sky, and making everything appear fuzzy. "Beautiful," she murmured, not really meaning it, feeling like each snowflake weighed more heavily on her heart than the last. Already winter, and she hadn't told him yet.

                "Come on, Hermione, let's go outside," said Ron impatiently, tapping his foot as Hermione reluctantly pulled on her coat and, then grabbing her hand and yanking her towards the door. She turned in the doorway, and saw Harry looking out the window, his profile stark and striking against the white snow. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he turned and smiled, and walked over, and took her other hand, and they all went padding through the door into the great white world beyond.

                Ron came upon a large log as they slipped outside, and stood next to it, smiling hopefully at Hermione. She sighed, and waved her wand, muttering a few choice words, standing back to watch as the log shaped itself into a nicely polished wooden sled, with enough room for two people to sit on it once. Ron grinned broadly. "C'mon quidditch champion, let's see what you make of it!" And Ron shoved Harry on to the sled, and nudged it on it's way down the hill. It went flying, jostling Harry from side to side, until it crashed into something large and furry, throwing Harry off and leaving him sprawled face down in the snow. The something large and furry jumped on him and stared licking his hand. It was Fang, the boarhound. Hermione giggled, despite herself.

                Harry sat up and grinned at her. "That's better," he called up the hill to her. "I think that's the first time you've smiled all morning." He dragged the sled up the hill, letting Fang run up behind him, barking and yipping in excitement, until Fang tripped over a root and landed face down in the snow with a surprised yelp. Everyone laughed. Ron jumped on to the sled, and pulled Hermione in behind him. They roared down the hill, laughing until they landed in a heap at the bottom. At the top of the hill, Hermione got on again…and Harry sat down behind her. His arms locked around her waist as they careened downwards, the wind whistling through her hair and around her face. A snowflake landed gently on her eyelash, melting and running down her cheek.

                This really was wonderful, she thought, out here among the beautiful snow covered trees, with her two best friends in the whole world, on Christmas day, seemingly without a care in the world. But Hermione knew better. They were having fun now, all together, and she wanted it never to end, but it would all be over soon, and it was nearly the end of all the fun and joking around, and it was winter of their last year, and she hadn't even told him yet. So as they pulled the sled back up the hill together, she opened her mouth to tell him, closed her eyes, prepared her mind…

                And was hit in the stomach by an accurately lobbed snowball. Flailing backwards, she landed in the snow. Harry leaned over, smiling, and reached out a hand to help her up, and she smiled back, reaching out to take his proffered hand. Then, suddenly, Harry was lying alongside her, a bemused expression on his snow-covered face. Ron stood over them, laughing so hand he looked like he might burst, and making another snowball in his hands. Harry and Hermione jumped up, grabbing some snow, and ducking as hard round white balls whizzed through the air all around them. Their wands lay forgotten on top of the sleds, as they finally tired, and threw themselves down in the snow, staring up at the sky, still grinning. "Let's just rest for a while," panted Harry. "I don't think I can take any more just yet." They all nodded.

                No one said anything for a long time. Then finally, Harry spoke up again. "So this is the last hurrah, is it?" Hermione felt her heart sink into the soles of her feet, and her smile faded from her face. Harry continued. "What'll we do when this is all over? I mean, this has been the best seven years of my life…I don't want to just lose it all of a sudden…and I don't want you lose you two, either." There was another long silence, then Hermione sat up straight, and turned, looking at each of them in turn. "I don't know about you two, but I have to leave home after this year ends. I'm a wizard now…I can't stay in the muggle world." Ron sat up too, and nodded. "Yeah…me too…Mom still treats me like the baby of the family. I have to get on my own." Harry looked at them. "Me…too! The Dursleys don't want me anymore than I want them…"

                Hermione felt increasingly lighter with every word spoken. "We're…all leaving home? And…well…" she looked at Harry, and he nodded. "I have a little bit of money, you know, that stuff I inherited…from mum and dad…it's probably enough for a small apartment-!" Ron jumped to his feet. "A small two room apartment, in the building right across from Fred and George's joke shop! And we could help them out there if we needed a little money to get started!" They were all standing now, beaming at each other, unaware that they were cold and shivering, and hungry.  "Could we really do it?" Hermione asked, wanting to believe that it was true. Ron shrugged. "Why not? We could pull it off…of course…we'd have to get jobs and everything…and probably would have to do something with the pets…"

                They all remembered Fang, and looked over at him, digging furiously through the snow. Ron frowned. "Better take him back to Hagrid," he commented. "Wonder how he got out here by himself anyway?" And, throwing a very significant glance at Hermione, he trundled off, grabbing the startled dog. Hermione blushed, glancing quickly at Harry, who was looking off into the distance somewhere. Ron knew! She wondered if she should tell Harry now…or if she even needed to anymore. It wasn't wise, was it? What if he hated her after she told him? It would shatter everything. No…she couldn't tell him…not now…

                "Hermione," Harry whispered, "are you scared?" She stared at him, her heart pounding. "Scared? About what?" Harry shook his head. "I've…never been away from Hogwarts before, not in the wizard world…I don't know if I'm prepared for this…I don' t know if I can be alone like this…" And before Hermione knew what was happening, she'd thrown her arms around Harry, and he hugged her tightly to him. "Oh Harry," she whispered, "You're not alone. You're never alone…" And as she felt his arms press around her, she wanted to let him know. But she didn't, and it was Christmas, and the happy time was almost over, and she hadn't told him yet.