Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, whatever you want to call him, woke up to a buzzing sound next to his ear. It was his best friend, Ron's, Auto-Answer Quill. Hermione, girlfriend of Ron and mutual best friend of both Ron and Harry, got it for him upon making Head Boy for Gryffindor in their seventh year. He looked out the window and saw flurries of snow sticking to the window. He remembered what day it was - the beginning of winter holidays.

Usually the trio headed to Ron's for the holidays, but Ron's family was on holiday in Mallorca with his brother, Bill, and Bill's wife, Fleur. Hermione's parents were in South Africa, fulfilling a life-long dream of "running with the wild," as they put it in their letter. Harry had no family to go home to anyway, so here they were, stuck at Hogwarts for Christmas. Harry didn't mind because most of the kids went home, but Ron wouldn't let an hour go by without complaining about how his parents forgot about him and how his brothers were on an island surrounded by beautiful, gorgeous women wearing nothing but coconuts for bras, despite Hermione's reproachful looks whenever he mentioned these island goddesses.

"And what am I, Ron? A hideous sea creature?" She would come back with variations on this phrase and Ron would say, "No, honey! You're beautiful! You really are! Wait...are you mad? Come back!" At least Harry had constant entertainment for break.

This morning, though, something was different. He could just feel it. Maybe it was the cold and maybe it was the thought of all the cider that was going to be consumed by the end of these 3 short weeks. Maybe it was the thought of only having to spend one more year here. Maybe it was the thought that it really was his last Christmas here, at Hogwarts. Whatever it was, it gave him that same fuzzy feeling you get when you run down the stairs on Christmas morning to find that the biggest present under the tree has your name on it.

He smiled to himself and reached for his robe. Putting it on and making his way down the stairs at the same time, he walked into the common room to find Ron and Hermione snogging under the mistletoe and several onlooking second years, looking both intrigued and uncomfortable.

Harry cleared his throat and said, "Good morning guys," in the direction of the couple. They quickly broke apart, Ron looking like he just left a dream state, scolding Harry for waking him up in the best part. Hermione looked like a startled cat, her bushy brown hair was slightly more disheveled than usual as she tried patting it down with her hands.

"Harry, mate," Ron said. "Can't you see we were, you know, busy"

"Sorry Ron, but did you know you had an audience?" Harry replied motioning towards the rest of the common room. The still surprised Herimone looked in the direction of the second years as they either scurried away or busied themselves with something else very quickly.

Ron laughed as he put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and said, "Me and Hermione," he paused to look down at her and she at him. They smiled at each other as he continued, "got a little something for you. A...surprise if you will." He let go of her and walked towards the Gryffindor common room's Christmas tree, beautifully decorated with pearl inlayed ornaments, tinsel made of real silver and real gold, and a beautiful star on the top that shone with the brightness of the night sky on a clear night. He bent down, getting on his hands and knees, and looked for something, picking up different presents and looking at the tags.

"Ronald, it's on the left. No, your OTHER left. Ok good, now look in the back. Yes there. No. Right in front of you, dear. Yes THAT one."

He finally found it and handed it to Harry. Harry took the present and turned it over in his hands, noticing that the tape on the bottom was off-center and the bow was very lopsided. Ron had to have wrapped it.

"But guys," Harry started. "Christmas isn't for another week"

"Yes Harry, we know. But after defeating Voldemort," Ron cringed as Hermione continued, "We thought that we could give you one of your presents early," she finished.

"Yeah, mate, it was the least we could do." Ron added. "I mean, you saved the entire wizarding world"

Harry raised one of his eyebrows. "But, you guys were with me. You helped me loads! I couldn't have done it without you."

"Just open it already, willya?" Ron exclaimed. "I'm getting hungry and I wanna make it down to the Great Hall before all the Christmas sausage and bacon are gone"

Harry and Hermione laughed while Ron remained completely straight-faced, wondering what he said that was so funny. Harry again turned the present over, and sighed, starting to carefully take off the tape on the bottom of it. Ron looked on excitedly while Hermione looked anxious, massaging one hand with her other. Finally removing all the wrapping paper and ribbon and tape, Harry noticed that he was now holding an old notebook in his hand. He turned it around to the front and saw the words, "Harry Potter - Our Friend. By: Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley" He thumbed through the notebook and saw it was filled from front to back with Hermione's perfect hand writing.

"Ron and I have been working on this for about a year now. It's about all of us. Well, all three of us anyway," Hermione told Harry. Harry noticed a tear fall on the cover. It was his own.

"Oh God, Hermione," Ron looked at Harry and then to Hermione frantically. "He doesn't like it"

"Harry," Hermione said softly as she put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Harry's tears had turned into sobs and in between breaths, he told them, "This...is the best present I have ever received." Hermione looked sympathetic as she threw her arms around him. Ron awkwardly put his hand on Harry's shoulders, not knowing what else to do. "Thank you so much guys," Harry added.

"Oh Harry! You're welcome! You're so very, very welcome!" Hermione began to kiss the top of his head and his cheeks. "We were afraid you weren't going to like it"

"Oi! Harry! Get your hands of my girlfriend!" Ron exclaimed. Again, the two laughed while Ron remained confused. Hermione used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe the tears off Harry's face.

"Let's get downstairs shall we?" she suggested. "The breakfast before Christmas holidays is usually the best." Harry nodded and Ron sighed loudly, saying, "Finally." The three of them headed downstairs, Ron holding Hermione's hand and Harry holding the book. When he said it was the best present he ever received, he said it with all seriousness.

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Draco woke up to a buzzing sound next to his ear; it was Crabbe's Cornish Pixie. Crabbe, his dorm mate, had found it flying around the grounds back in their second year and he's had it ever since. He got up out of bed and made his way down to the common room. He saw a couple Slytherins down in the common room, mostly the older ones. All the younger ones were still in bed. It was still pretty early, but later than he usually woke up.

He yawned and made his way over to the couch, picking up a copy of the Daily Prophet. He noticed some eyes on him, but tried not to. Unfolding the Prophet, he saw on the front page, "Potter does it again! Escapes death and saves the World!" He snorted as he crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire. "Bloody Potter," he thought. "The Bleedin' Chosen One." He rolled his eyes at the thought of it and reclined on the couch, putting his arms behind his head.

He tried to close his eyes, but the common room portrait door swung open and he heard a gaggle of girls come in, head of them, Pansy Parkinson. Pansy was Draco's on-again off-again girlfriend for sometime now. She wasn't anything serious, but she was alright. Most Slytherin guys said she was "hot," but Draco didn't really see it. Yeah, maybe she was pretty, but nothing special. She was crazy about him and he knew it - usually playing that to his advantage. He sat up.

"Hey baby," she purred.

He looked up, but didn't say anything to her. She sat down on the couch next to him, playfully pulling at a loose thread on his robe. He could feel the rest of the girls' eyes burning a hole in his back and through the corner of his eye he saw Pansy mouthing something to them. He just rolled his eyes and propped his legs up on the coffee table. Pansy followed suit and the other girls left the common room, giggling.

"Darling, how come we don't talk anymore?" Pansy inquired.

"We talk," he said, simply.

"I know but," she sat up and sat cross legged on the couch, now facing him. "Usually it's with friends. I mean, we never talk when we're by ourselves"

"We're alone now," he said, still looking forward.

She looked around the common room. "Yeah," she reached for his hand. "I guess we are"

He finally looked at her and she looked into his eyes, biting her lip. He knew she wanted him to kiss her, but he didn't. She made a slight click with her tongue and entwined her fingers with his. His hand was limp. He wasn't really into it. She kept getting closer to him. He could feel her eyes on his. Closer still. He could feel her breath on his neck. Closer yet. She kissed his neck and was moving up to his lips. He still hadn't moved from his original position. "Pansy," was all he said.

She made no effort to hide her sigh of annoyance. "What?!" she snapped.

"I'm hungry." He got up, but as soon as he got up, she grabbed his wrist and started crying. Violent sobs were filling the common room and people were now staring at the couple. Draco rolled his eyes and sat back down.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a tinge of annoyance.

She looked at him, still crying. "You don't love me."

"Not this again," he said, picking at his fingernails.

"You don't even look at me!" she whined.

Draco kept his head down, but averted his eyes upward, towards her and raised his eyebrows. "I'm looking at you now. Happy?" No answer. He stood up once more and so did she. As he started walking toward the door, she ran after him and grabbed his wrist again. He stopped walking, but didn't turn around. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, half-hoping the chandelier would fall on her so he wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Draco Malfoy!" she screamed.

He spun around, bemused. "But you weren't talking, darling." He smirked.

"Don't call me that! I hate you! I hate you Draco Malfoy! I hate you so much!" She was raising her voice to a record high. Some of the other Slytherins actually looked scared. Draco couldn't have looked more bored.

"But, Pansy, you always hate me"

"But not like this Draco," he started coming closer towards him. She lowered her voice and repeated "I hate you"

"Okay," was all he said.

She was, evidently, not very happy with that so she started crying again, hitting his chest with her balled fists, screaming obscenities. He grabbed her wrists and held them tight, narrowing his eyes in on hers, his jaw tightning. She looked frightened. She immediately stopped crying, her eyes as wide as a house elf's. Draco held on even tighter and then suddenly let go. Her arms fell to her sides and she looked relieved. For a second, she thought that maybe he would forgive her, but then she felt a stinging burn across her face. Draco had never hit her before. They were both scared. She looked at him horrified, slowly stepping backwards. He looked at her and then at his hand. He raised his hand to his face so he could see it better. He could still see the red mark of her face from the slap. Her bottom lip was trembling and tears were now streaming down her face.