Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, although I really wish that I did. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. Nor do I own the song that I use in this fic, "Where Are You Christmas?", which belongs to Faith Hill. I really love the song though!
lyrics
CHRISTMAS SONGS
Damn it. Why did she, out of the other thirty students in her Muggle Music Class, have to be picked? True, at first it was supposed to be an extra credit assignment that had been due, and Professor Capalbo (AN: I know he isn't a real teacher in Hogwarts, but he is at Norco High School, so deal!) had mentioned that the one he believed was the best was to be either sung or played in front of the entire school but… still!
She probably was the only one who actually did it.
"Being the winter season, we have a song written by our very dear Gryffindor songstress, Hermione Granger." A flurry of applause erupted after her professor's statement, although she knew that none came from the Slytherin table. Everyone else either didn't care or loved the fact that a Gryffindor was performing.
Breathe, she told herself firmly, stepping toward the microphone which Capalbo was so bent on using. The crowd quieted slowly with each step she took.
"This… this song has a double meaning", she told her audience, gulping down her nervousness. "I just hope you'll understand." She exhaled a breath she had been unaware of holding. "This is for you, if you know who you are."
The piano began to play, a slow tempo but a faster tune echoing from its strings. Its high octave notes doubled throughout the large quiet room. Soon, her melodious voice flowed alongside the tune, heard easily as if she were in her own dorm alone, thinking aloud.
"Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?/"
A violin began to play chords behind the two, projecting their sound out to the audience better.
"Where is the laughter
You used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?/"
A clash of cymbals found her ears, begging her to belt out her next lyrics. She complied willingly to her music's desires, her nervousness disappearing, almost gone.
"My world is changing.
I'm rearranging.
Does that mean Christmas changes too?/"
The percussion came in as the violin and the piano played together.
"Where are you Christmas?
Do you remember
The one you used to know?
I'm not the same one.
See what the time has done.
Is that why you have let me go?/"
The bridge came on, signaling her to continue her singing.
"Christmas is here, everywhere.
Christmas is here, if you care.
If there is love in your heart and your mind,
You will feel like Christmas all the time./"
She suddenly had the courage to look at him, the man who she wrote this song for, to only see his emerald eyes hungering for more of the lyrics, sparking brilliantly as she watched him, the finale of her song in her ears, the electric guitar loud.
She looked away, afraid that if she stared any longer that she would forget her lyrics. Her mouth opened automatically as she felt the ending come to her lips.
"I feel you, Christmas.
I know I found you.
You never fade away.
The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us.
Fills each and every heart-/"
The background cut out, leaving only her and the piano, the violin joining soon after.
"-with love./"
The whole room burst out with applause louder than before, even a few Slytherins (soon to be exonerated from the ones that did not) were hooting loudly at her as some others loudly clapped their palms together.
She grinned widely, wondering if the young man she had written the song for had gotten the hint, head pounding with the thoughts of what could happen now with the truth out there. He may have been dense, but no one could truly be that thick-headed. Not even Ron, and hopefully not him.
"Hermione!" His voice echoed in her head as he tried to make his way through the large throngs of people. As he reached the stage, he offered her a hand off the stage. "Can I take a spare moment of your time? Before you go home for vacation?" She nodded, taking his hand. "A little nervous?" he asked her with a small laugh as he felt her trembling palm in his own, causing her to laugh out loud as well.
"You have no idea", she whispered into his ear as he helped her down finally.
They exited the room, unnoticed, the other students mesmerized by the exciting (AN: cough cough) stories told by their big headed new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Why do all of their teachers for the class have to be big shots, or try to make them look like one?
The two seventeen year-olds walked around the lake, silent the whole way. Once certain that no one could hear them speak, the dark haired young man stopped, causing her to also halt.
"Harry?" she questioned, worried.
"That…" he began, either hesitating or trying to formulate words. "You're a great singer, 'Mione. Bloody great writer, too. But…" He trailed off, afraid to continue his sentence for some reason.
"But what?"
"Did you mean it?" She swallowed nervously. Oh, he had figured it out. "Do you really feel that way? About me of all people?"
She unearthed an unsure laugh. "Is it too late to take the fifth?" she asked, a thought striking into her confusion and fearfulness. "How did you know that it was about you? It could have been about Ron, for all you know."
"Yes, but why would you have looked at me after the lines 'If there is love in your heart and your mind, you will feel like Christmas all the time'?" She looked at him in awe. He still remembered the lyrics? "That's why I know, and yes, it is too late to take the fifth", he told her, a satisfied smirk on his face.
She hesitated. She had known that he would find out eventually, but she only wished that it had come out normally, not through a song. "Then, yes", she said bravely, reading her heart for the quick and dulling pain of rejection. "I meant every single word, I felt every little feeling, for you, of all people. I, Hermione Jane Granger, have indeed fallen for my best friend, Harry James Potter. Anything else you'd like me to say to further humiliate myself before you." He shook his head no, his lips curled into a large, happy grin.
"No, I think we're good." He leaned in and brushed his harsh lips against her tender ones, surprising yet fulfilling her every perverted dream. He unhooked himself from her mouth. "What do you think?"
"Good", she repeated, leaning in further, deciding to deepen their beforehand kiss. "Very good", she murmured softly on his lips.
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Orokid: I wrote this last year, but it got accidentally deleted… laughs nervously Anyway, here it is again. Hope you liked it.