Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but the wonderful, J. K. Rowling does. Thanks for never giving up on your fans and keeping up your legacy. :)

Author Notes: Harry and Hermoine fluff below! It's has a weird plot, but I think it's original, at least I hope! Merry Christmas too you all as well! :)

Rated: G for small kisses and fluffiness.

Enjoy! :)

// Flipped thru the Pages

By: Simplicity

--

The stockings were hung by the fire; swinging back and forth as the tip of Harry's fingers ran over the red faux fur that each one held to cover their interior secrets. His index finger grazed over his own stocking, feeling the warmth of its flesh on his chilly skin. He smiled to himself; he had always adored Christmas's at Hogwarts. It offered him so much more then the Dursley's had ever offered on him on Christmas. No, Harry, didn't want hundred's of presents; he just liked being around those who cared for him. And it was certainly better then staying under in a cupboard alone and cold on Christmas Eve. And this Christmas Eve, would be the best one yet to come.

"Harry." Hermoine called out; she had noticed Harry's reflection while her face was buried in 'A Christmas at Hogwarts'. Her twin eyes had caught his image as she was swiftly flipping a page, getting more carried away in the book. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry tiptoed his face over to hers. He smiled meaninglessly at her for a moment before waving his hand in the air after leaning against the fireplace casually, in a rather curious way at that. "Nothing's wrong with me Hermoine, just enjoying the season." He had that innocent look on his face when he spoke to Hermoine. Under the glasses and under the scar stood nothing more then your average boy with an extra dose of courage, love, and spirit. And most certainly was his spirit high in this Christmas time.

Hermoine had patted the seat besides her, trying to call Harry's attention from his own. After waving the fingers of her right hand into the chilly air a few times, Harry had finally noticed her. It was as if he was reading a book, but only thinking it. But just as deep as Hermoine was into 'A Christmas at Hogwarts'.

Harry trotted, slowly, over to Hermoine and sat by her on the couch. He was truly enjoying the scene of the flickering fire beneath several strings of Christmas cards and varieties of stockings. Hermoine nuzzled her face back into her book, mumbling things about the book here and there; ones that would cause Harry to look over at her when she spoke. Unlike most books Hermoine read, this book was particularly smaller, thinner in fact. The print was much bigger and there were illustrations above or below words from what Harry could see when sneaking a pick here and there.

"Hermoine how many times today have I seen you buried in that book?" Harry asked as he sneaked a look over the book's cover. It glistened with snow, and a handful of trees. People, wizards to be exact, were covered in the scene with smiles on their face. Much like the fireplace, Harry had enjoyed this image--he enjoyed the simple things of life.

Hermoine felt a streak of blush run over her cheek as she heard Harry's comment to her. She needed something to say to that, because, she was buried in that book almost all day minus breakfast, lunch and dinner. Which was an awful lot due to the fact that the book only had.. Ten pages total. "Uh, it depends Harry." Hermoine grinned after she started her statement. "How many times have you been looking at me today?"

Harry, too, felt a long stream of blush run along his cheeks. Perhaps Hermoine had mistaken it by the building fire that flushed along his body. But she didn't comment on it, none the less did she notice it. Harry just turned away and slipped his hand along the side of his cheek and to the back of his head. Harry felt that he needed to answer Hermoine's question, because she had done the same for her. So quickly in his mind he compiled a reasonable answer. "It's just that you're always around me, and I it's hard not to notice someone who's always around."

"Is that the best answer you could up with?" Hermoine asked as she closed her book and pushed it to the side, eyeing Harry cautiously wanting to know the honest truth. Harry had finally allowed the blush to fade from his white cheeks and turned to face Hermoine again. He didn't know exactly how to answer the question--so instead he decided to take some sort of action.

Doing so, he reached over to the book that Hermoine so loved to read and pulled it into his lap. Instantly, the book captivated him. Golden letters along the top of the books cover read the title of the book. Harry was almost so captivated that he glanced along the cover, running his fingers down the pattern for minutes. But reality hit him and he opened to the first page of the book. "It was night before Christmas. And along the castle walls, hung ghostly goblins. And stockings strung from the walls."

Hermoine watched over Harry as he read the lines of the book. Her ears had perked up to listen to the delicious voice of Harry's reading the words she loved so much. Her nose wiggled as she moved her legs onto the other side of the couch and casually looked over Harry's shoulder to watch the illustrations in the book as he read each word just perfectly.

"The professors were snug under their bed, Students not thinking of work to be done. Carelessly sipping warm hot chocolate, while Hogwarts carols were being sung." Harry continued as he turned to the next page. He glanced over to Hermoine for a moment. His eyes glanced along her face and over her eyes. His own eyes were stuck watching hers for several moments. Hermoine, in return, watched Harry's glowing eyes before he turned back to the book smiling down at the words. "They all knew that the next day, Christmas would brings lots of love and cheer, For you see young wizards and witches, Christmas is the best time of the year."

Hermoine softly leaned her chin on Harry's shoulder, trying her best to not startled Harry from reading her the book. But she wanted to feel him read it. Watch his lips as each word was sung from his lips. It was great to read a book that she loved, but it was better yet to have a book read to her by her best friend. As soon as that thought floated in her mind. She thought to herself. 'Hermoine! When did Harry become your best friend?'

But her thoughts were stopped as soon as Harry continued onto the next page of the book. His fingers ran over the image of the fireplace and stockings on the next page as he read the lines. "There was the presents and gifts alike. There were sweet kisses under the mistletoe. There was the fire warming by stockings, giving off that warm fiery glow."

Hermoine and Harry, almost at the same time blushed to the word kisses. But, Harry, you see was different then the rest of the boys. They would call kissing 'stupid, and horrible'. You see Harry; he did desire a kiss from someone special. There needn't be mistletoe for that kiss if there was love. Harry was intrigued to just kiss Hermoine for that moment, but he had noticed that Hermoine was too captivated by the book.

"A Hogwarts Christmas was different indeed, Unlike those kids begging for toys; there was a spirit of love, between the girls and the boys." Harry had read onto the next page. He now knew why Hermoine had loved this book so much. Hermoine had wanted love, that sweet love that fairy tales were made of. That innocent kiss from two lovers in her midnight dreams. And he too, was falling in love with this book much like Hermoine had done before him.

Harry, decided to make sure that Hermoine was interested in him reading the book to her. As hard as it was to do so, Harry closed the book and looked over to Hermoine whose eyebrows raised at the snap of the book being shut. She lifted her peachy chin from his shoulder, pleading to him like a mother's child. "Harry! Don't stop there." Her words were soft spoken, like an angel's harp playing into Harry's ear. He did enjoy her voice, not to say the least her breath caressing his cheeks.

And Harry did as told. Reopening the book; their dream, their wishes, their love. He turned back to the page he had last read and turned to Hermoine who was clinging lightly to his arm. He did the daring, he did what he had not done before: Harry slipped his hand around Hermoine's back and allowed her to snuggle against his arm and side lightly. But before his blush would start to bloom from his cheeks, he read again. "You see these witches and wizards whom come from afar, come together during this giving season. They shout and cheer together as one. You see these witches and wizards bond together for one reason."

Harry's voice continued to melt away, much like the brewing fire that flamed before their eyes. No one could notice that Hermoine had laid her eyes on Harry instead of the book. Nor could anyone notice that Harry had casually glazed over Hermoine as he turned page to page. Nor could anyone notice when, after each page, they both would press their fingers against the images, which were known as memories to them.

"Along the halls of Hogwarts; when winter blooms from fall. Wizards and witches start to believe, which is the greatest magic of them all." Harry's voiced trailed on eagerly. Each word gave him some more meaning to not only life, but also the friendship with Hermoine that he had. And Hermoine listened away like a carefree child waiting for Santa Claus to plop down the chimney to deliver toys and goodies.

And as Harry turned to the last page, his eyes began to glow. Though the light of the book was dimming to their last words, they knew that the light the book had offered were like footprints painted in their hearts. His lips began softly, like a tune from a flute. Harry was obviously to infatuated with the book to ever allow it to finish. But then again he was too eager to not know the ending. "Each Hogwarts Christmas came and gone by, Leaving trails of love over ten feet tall. And if this is the night before Christmas, May tomorrow be the best Hogwarts Christmas of all."

Harry closed the book before pushing it to side. He smiled and simply watched over Hermoine. She was in too much of shock to realize that Harry had just read her a story. Almost a bedtime story in fact. Her lips curved into a smile and with every twist of each bone that formed her smile; Harry had did the same.

Hermoine leaned over softly and kissed Harry's cheek softly, murmuring in his ear after sweeping a strand of hair from the near of his earlobe. "Merry Christmas, my Harry." She spoke those words that were said to be so true. You see this Christmas Eve Hermoine did believe in something. Before the story she had no idea what she believed in, but she had something to believe in this Christmas she knew. Harry did not reply to her message, but only in a kiss. His shy and shaky lips pressed softly against Hermoine's own.

Two pair of chapped lips meshed softly together to form one whole. It was a sweet kiss that the two did not wish to part. But like all great things they must have end; so that they could realize the beginning. The beginning of something grand. Which would certainly not end. You see around the world wizards and witches did bond this Christmas, and this Christmas Harry and Hermoine had found each other. But as the book did tell the two, something important that neither one knew.

You see, this Christmas, Hermoine believed in love. And Harry did too.

.:end:.

Thank you for reading my little story, and I hope it has brought a little bit of joy to your Christmas! Have yourself a safe and Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays as well. :)

And if you could, please review my story. There's nothing better then a stocking full of personal thoughts of my writings!

Lots of Love,

- Simplicity