A/N: Good morning! Or evening, or middle of the day. It is now Christmas morning in Australia, and my Christmas doesn't start until later really (we're waiting for the little'n to arrive!) so I thought I would fill my time up with writing a Christmas story for you all - as I do most years! Thankfully (I have a lot of ongoing stuff right now) it's only a one shot, but I can also use this time to update you on what's going on.
ALL of my stories will get finished, except I'm super busy right now, getting someone else's book edited, then finishing my own. On that note anyone who has a really good grasp on the English language, and a set of editing eyes and fingers please PM me, I'd love to talk to you about maybe reading a bit (or all) of my story.
Anyway, back to this. I have Age of Healing and Of Secrets Lies and Birds of Fire on the go and they will get finished, despite the perhaps dwindling excitement over Harry Potter in general. I'm wondering if it's just how long I take between chapters, or whether it's fandom wide. Interesting thoughts.
This has not been beta-d, there's no warnings, except it's filled with Christmas fluff. It's post war, no epilogue, imagine Hermione decided Ronald was not the man for her, and that Harry decided that perhaps Ginny is the woman for him, but right now the Weasleys are too upset about Fred (who isn't!) to even contemplate being without each other at Christmas.
As always I wish you nothing but love and happiness, no matter what you're celebrating and while it may not be very PC of me, I'm wishing everyone a Happy Christmas, because that's what I celebrate. The meaning behind the words is the same, no matter what you are (or not) celebrating I think. Special shout out to Spin, who didn't beta this, because she's been at work (in RETAIL!) all week. Actually anyone that had to work this week, or on Christmas day. You're awesome.
Lots of love!
-0-
Harry paced outside the stone gargoyle for more than a little while, until it huffed at him and asked if he wanted to go up. He stood for a moment, wondering at how far his life had come and then nodded, thanking it once it was moving.
The spiral staircase hadn't changed, though he had not walked up it for months, the feel was different though; it belonged to another now, but Harry would always remember climbing them to meet Albus Dumbledore.
As he raised his hand to knock, he knew that those memories would be there forever, but it was time to move on.
"Come," the stern voice said, making him smile.
"Hi," Harry waved awkwardly. "Um, hello Professor."
"Mister Potter!"
Despite the formal titles, Headmistress McGonagall was up and around the desk in no time at all, hugging Harry with glee.
"What do I owe this pleasure my lad?"
"Um -"
And that brought them to the crux of the issue. Harry had often wondered at the lives of his teachers, wondered what they did at a time of holidays and family. He had, since leaving, learned of a few with families, and a few with extended families, but the woman before him remained a mystery. In the heat of the moment, he had told himself he was doing the right thing, but now it was here, he wasn't so sure any more.
"I," he frowned. "I -"
"Come through lad," Minerva grinned, opening a door in the wall. It opened into a library and he looked around like the child he had been when he first walked these hallowed halls.
"Wow," he said, unable to contain himself.
"It is quite impressive," she grinned, pouring them both a drink of something from a side table. "Hogwarts put it in specially for me."
"That's pretty awesome," Harry said with a smile when she passed him the tumbler.
"It is that," she winked, sighing as she took a sip. "What can I do for you Harry?"
"Have you ever called me that before?"
"A few times," Minerva conceded. "But mostly in my head."
He chuckled and they fell silent as Harry contemplated just how presumptuous it was to come here.
"I think I made a mistake in coming here, not that it wasn't good to see you Professor, it's just -"
"Surely brave Harry Potter hasn't chickened out?" Minerva asked. "You looked quite serious when you came in."
"I've realised that it may have been rather impertinent of me," he said quietly.
"I have been a teacher longer than you can imagine, I can handle it," she grinned wryly.
"Will you be alone for Christmas?"
He sat very still, watching her face and he was sure as he watched her pale even in the firelight that he'd said the wrong thing, and that in any moment, he'd be transfigured into a rock.
"I," she swallowed, staring at the amber liquid in her glass. "I'm -"
He remained silent. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to laugh it off, but that is what Ron would do, and he didn't like the way he did that. He wanted to say something deep, but that was Hermione's area. What did Harry Potter do? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this, because he'd had so few situations from which to learn. He expected that Hermione had learned for her parents; Hermione was a well rounded child, but poor stunted Harry was a little out of his league.
"Sorry," he shrugged.
"Don't apologise," she said quietly. "You have nothing to apologise for Harry. You are brave to come here."
"Not really," he shrugged. "I just didn't want you to be alone."
"And that is where your heart differs from the others," she whispered, reaching across the gap between them and patting his knee. "Only one other student has ever asked me that, and got an answer from me."
"Who?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.
"Your mother," she chuckled. "She invited me to Christmas with the boys and her. It was awkward at first, but I was glad of it once that was over. I spent the next few Christmases with them, and you."
"Really?" Harry asked, wondering why he was only hearing of it now.
"I have no children, though I was married at one time or another. My life is a rather tedious one Mister Potter, but those few years with your family were more magical than anything we do here."
"Well then," Harry said, draining his glass and standing up, turning to hold out his hand. "It's not fancy, but I can cook a mean turkey. Hermione's waiting for us Headmistress."
Minerva looked between him and her clenched hands in her lap, before smiling up at him. He pulled her to her feet and she gathered a few things in case she felt she would stay overnight. He stood by the fire as she extinguished the lights and stood with a carpet bag before the flames.
"Grimmauld Place," Harry called, bracing for the tight squeeze in the Floo.
He chuckled as he weaved in and out, catching tiny glimpses of other grates as he travelled. The first time he had travelled by Floo had been a nightmare, but he had grown and so had his confidence. He spun from the grate, slipping on his glasses as he did so.
"Hey," Hermione said, looking behind him. "Is she coming?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "She's coming."
She beamed at him as the fire flared again and Minerva McGonagall stepped out as regal as ever.
"Minerva!"
Harry laughed out loud as Hermione hugged Minerva tightly. The older woman looked affronted for a second, but quickly relaxed into Hermione's embrace.
"I am not a charity case Miss Granger," Minerva smirked. "Though I will take your charity this once."
"It's not charity Minerva," Hermione scoffed, taking her bag and sliding her arm into Minerva's. "It's family."
Minerva paused, as did Harry as they realised Hermione was right. He smiled up at the painting above the fireplace, a reproduction of the smiling photo of his parents that Hagrid had given him for his first real birthday. They'd done it tough for a long time, and since the war they'd thrown themselves into redecorating Grimmauld Place. The only thing left to change was the bedrooms, which were mostly functional anyway. He heard Minerva remarking on how much work they'd done, and his pride preened a little. He'd had to relearn how to do a few jobs by magic, but he'd done most of the work himself, after a lesson or two from Dennis Creevey's father. With Hermione helping the magical side to it, it had gone fairly well.
"Harry?"
"Coming," he called, rushing to keep up with them.
Minerva had shed her travelling cloak and stood looking at the spread on the table. It was perhaps a little excessive, but Harry, and Hermione were compensating, so he didn't care.
"That is certainly a Christmas Eve feast," she grinned.
"We may have gone overboard," Harry laughed, really looking, and knowing what was still to be made, baked and roasted on Christmas day.
"It'll keep," Minerva said quietly, moving to stand beside him. She took his hand and squeezed a little before letting go and waving her hand. Her robes changed to a beautiful, but modest frock. Another wave of her hand and her hair was in what Hermione termed 'an up do' and winked at him. "What can I do to help?"
"Nothing, we're ready. Let's eat!" Hermione said, joining them.
There was laughter and happiness flitting in the very air around them. It was something Harry had never experienced before. Christmas at Hogwarts had been amazing, especially after so long at the Dursley's, but this, this was special.
"Harry?" a voice at the front door called.
He grinned at Minerva's confused look.
"Don't go away," he warned her, getting up and meeting the guest in the hallway.
"Hello," Andromeda Tonks said warmly, passing the baby to him and embracing him.
"Hi, come in, we started without you like you said."
"That's fine, he slept hard."
Harry chuckled and tickled Teddy, walking back to the table.
"Hello Hermione," Andromeda said, kissing her cheek. "Minerva," she did the same and Harry grinned against Teddy's belly at the shock Minerva had on her face.
He'd spoken to Andy about inviting Minerva and warned her to just go with it, and she was.
"Have you met my Godson?" Harry asked Minerva.
"I haven't," Minerva smiled sadly. "They chose well."
They sat down once more, talking happily of memories and treasures from the past. Minerva's posture got less stiff and soon she was laughing with the rest of them, glass in hand and sparkle in her eye.
They retired to the living room, decked out rather impressively with a huge tree and sparkling muggle decorations.
"It's beautiful," Minerva whispered to him as they sat together on the sofa. Hermione was reading and Andromeda had left for a while to go to church; a tradition her husband had introduced her to.
"It is," he said, looking down at Teddy. "Would you like to hold him?"
"It's been a long time Harry," she said awkwardly.
"Nonsense," he smiled. "Here."
He quickly, but carefully placed Teddy in her arms, and another part of her relaxed. A soft smile appeared on her face, and he decided that this was the Minerva he wanted to get to know. The soft woman on the inside of the Headmistress that had merely been coping, like he and Hermione both had been for so long.
"I think, in lieu of Christmas presents this year, I'd like to make a promise to you Minerva, and you Hermione. I promise that we won't let this go, that we'll see each other, even for a cup of tea every week."
"I agree," Hermione said quietly. "I promise too."
"It seems that while I am outnumbered, I am not overcome," Minerva smiled, kissing Teddy's hair. "I also promise to not let this become as so many of my other friendships have done. We will set aside time every week."
"Good," Harry said, pausing as he heard the cuckoo clock in the hall cry out for midnight. "Merry Christmas Hermione, Minerva."
"Merry Christmas," Minerva whispered, leaning against his shoulder. "Merry Christmas."