Hi! So I've had this idea floating around in my head since like January and I have kept putting it off, and I decided that since it takes place on Christmas Eve., when better to post than on Christmas Eve?
This is set when Harry and Hermione are in the Godric's Hallow graveyard and Harry sees his parents. So I guess on with the story! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

The Kissing Gate

They made their way in through the kissing gate, which shut with a soft clink behind them. Even though it was quite soft, Hermione, who was already nervous and very jumpy, practically flew away from it and slid closer to Harry, clutching his wrist far too tightly.

He merely waited for her to calm down, his own throat dry not from fright but from knowing where he was and that his parent's remains could very well lie beneath where he was standing. She loosened her hold after a bit, thankfully, and lowered her hand until it was softly intertwined with his own. Whether she did it because she was still scared or because she wanted to comfort him, sensing his anxiety, he couldn't tell.
She wasn't moving, staying determinedly rooted to the spot, so Harry tugged a little on her hand, but she remained like a statue. Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was afraid of death or dead people. Every time Ron had said something about Dumbledore coming back, she would always get very high-strung and her voice would usually raise half an octave at the very least.

Concluding her problem, he walked backwards until her was right next to her and scooted nearer to her until they appeared to be sideways hugging (without arms). She leaned in to his touch and tightened her grip on his hand with her own gloved one and finally agreed to step forward.
"They're not going to hurt you," He said finally, when her hand had begun to cut off his circulation (she had tensed up more every step they took). She nodded, and at last, he was able to coax her forward without her getting frightened, and after a while she didn't really need his hand anymore. But now he needed her's.
After all this time, he was going to see his parents, but he couldn't do it? He had wanted this for so long, but now he was nervous, and perhaps even a bit scared of it? It didn't seem to make any sense to Hermione. She would give anything to see her parents at the moment, but she knew that they wouldn't even know her anymore.

A single tear made its way from one of her chocolate brown eyes. It broke her heart that she had done that to them. And if she brought their memories back, would they ever fully forgive her? It was so hard to accept that she wouldn't be seeing them for Christmas or even getting their letter like she always did. She couldn't believe she hadn't respected fully how wonderful those two sentence holiday greetings were. A few years ago, they would go in the rubbish bin after Christmas day, but now she knew she would cherish them. It just hurt so much.
For a moment she considered voicing this to Harry (who was slowly dragging her forward because she was thinking too much to move out of her own accord) but after even half a thought she decided against it. That would be ridiculously insensitive! He could hardly even remember his parents, and she wanted to tell him that her's were perfectly safe as the Wilkins but that she missed their cheesy Christmas cards. No way!
She could still hear the gentle caroling coming from the church, and could help but wish she was home safe with her parents (The Grangers and not the Wilkins) without a care in the world, humming carols under her breath like the good old days (she knew she was far too young to call anything the 'good old days') and not here, outside in the freezing cold on this godforsaken near-impossible mission to destroy objects that held the soul of some crazy lunatic who was determined to murder the very person she was standing mere inches from, holding hands with; her best friend.
She felt terribly guilty about it, but she didn't want to be here any longer, but she knew Harry wouldn't stand a chance if she just got up and left after she had promised him she wouldn't. She couldn't really blame Ron for leaving; he was only accepting what she couldn't.

With that thought, she felt her heart shatter. How could she possibly think that? Of course she loved Harry, but she was just tired of all of this, scared about what might happen if they failed, overwhelmed because they really were only just kids, stranded, half-starved, and forced to complete this ridiculously complex mission that not even a fully-grown man could.
Before she knew it, she was full-out crying (thankfully silently) scooting ever closer to Harry, who seemed to be all she had left at this point, seeking comfort and love when the ones she was used to having offered that were know somewhere in Australia, not a single thought spared to their daughter, because they didn't even know they had one.
Not wanting Harry to see her crying, Hermione walked off, but stayed close, still quite nervous about the shadows lurking about. The need not have though; Harry had already sensed her tears long before she had started to cry. He knew she wanted to leave too, and it just shattered him to know that. He didn't want to be selfish, he didn't want to keep her here if all she wanted to do was just go home, but he just didn't think he could go on if she left. She just meant too much to him.

He wished they would talk more. She seemed to hate him ever since Ron left. He had tried relentlessly to get her to perk up, to love him, to be that cheerful bookworm he knew and had fallen hopelessly in love with again. He just wanted her to be happy, and if that meant leaving him forever, then so be it. He had always been the type of person to value other people above himself. And for her that meant he would willingly die a painful death (which he knew he probably would if she did go) to make sure she was alright and happy.
He wished again that she would just talk to him. It was so easy earlier, so why did their friendship have to fall apart now, when he knew he needed it most? When he knew she needed it most? He knew what was constantly on her mind, what was always beating her up inside. She wanted to leave, but she was too good and loyal of a person to do it. She wouldn't break her own moral code to go see her parents, be with them again, even if she was in danger there too.
That was one of the many amazing things about Hermione. She never thought of herself. Those who she cared about came first. And she would always them rather be angry at her than be hurt. She was so loyal that you can't get rid of her if you tried, not that you would because she was also unbelievably brave, kind-hearted, intelligent, caring, and of course, so crazily selfless. He wished he could comfort her all those times she's upset but he knew that he isn't who she needs now.
Attempting to drag his thoughts away from Hermione, he kept walking, glancing the headstones, searching for his parents, both hoping he would, and would not find them.
His heart stopped. His hands became unnaturally sweaty. His mouth went completely dry. He seemed to lose his ability to speak. There were there. Right in front of him. And, as if on cue, the church lights-all of them-went out, leaving nothing but a hopeless darkness that seemed to mimic his soul. Once again, he found himself wondering what it would be like if they had lived. But then someone's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Hey, Harry?" Called Hermione. She didn't sound in danger so he decided to ignore her, knowing he wouldn't be able to answer anyway, with his tongue so dry he was shocked it wasn't already decapitating.
Hermione began to say something else but she trailed off and he wasn't paying too much attention. He seemed to have lost his hearing abilities too. He wondered briefly if he was dying, if his parents were pulling him in, angry at him for shortening their lives...
He felt a very warm and soft hand close he immediately recognized as Hermione's close around his, and he was uncommonly glad he could still feel. Feel her comfort she was trying so desperately to offer was like warm water soothing his throat after a cold. He knew he was crying, but he didn't care. He wished his parents would just take him already. Take him out of all this misery. Make it easier for Voldemort to kill him so it could all just stop. All the pain, all the frustration, all the sadness, and all the guilt; the weight of the world was simply too heavy for him to carry alone. But then he remembered he wasn't alone. Hermione was still there, always by his side, and that comforted him more than he ever thought it would.
He felt her warm lips, smooth and soft, lightly touch his cheek, catching a few of his ice cold tears and replacing it with a pleasant tingling.
She then bent down and conjured a wreath of white lilies and gave it to him to place on his parent's grave. He laid them down and squeezed her hand, letting her know how much he appreciated it.
And suddenly, words weren't needed. Suddenly, they realized that they never were. And right there, right then, they kissed. Kissed in the multi-colored church lights that had flickered back on the moment their lips had touched for the first time. Kissing just beyond the kissing gate.

Ok, so I know that last bit was a little cheesy but otherwise I think it turned out better than I thought it would. Well, hope you liked it! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, a Happy Kwanzaa, and a Happy New Year!