Disclaimer: I am making no money from this story. J.K. Rowling owns the characters and, honestly, she'd be appalled if she knew what I was making them do.

A/N: Taking place over Xmas break during fifth year.

Special Christmas Gifts

Harry woke with a dull ringing in his ears and a feeling of pressure against his chest. He vaguely recalled that it was Boxing Day, but couldn't entirely recall why he felt so awful. An attempt to sit up reminded him of the pressure against his chest, and made him re-evaluate the situation. He wasn't alone in his bed. It wasn't even his bed.

His right arm lay wrapped around a soft, warm, naked back. The pressure was somebody's head, resting against his chest. Peering awkwardly down and to his right, he could see a wild tangle of wavy brown hair. He lifted up the blanket that covered them and looked down her back as it curved gracefully down to the top of her…He quickly dropped the blanket and blushed furiously. It wasn't a trick of his imagination. She really was naked.

Resting his head gently against the pillow, Harry tried to recall details of the night before. It had been the night of the big Christmas dinner. All of the professors had been there, plus the handful of students that had stayed behind. Just two first-year boys from Ravenclaw, whose parents were taking a second honeymoon over the holiday, and a redheaded seventh-year Hufflepuff girl that Harry hadn't really known before the holidays began; her name was Megan. Himself, of course, with no family to return to, or at least none that he wanted to return to.

And Hermione.

It all came rushing back to him, the blood alternately rushing to and draining from his face as he recalled it. The professors had decided to break out a stock of particularly good Muggle wine. Harry and Hermione, both having been raised by Muggles, knew about champagne, but had never partaken of any before. It seemed to Harry that it must have been pretty darned strong stuff. Harry could recall getting more and more light-headed and giggly as the night progressed, and had a distinct impression that he'd had to carry Hermione back to the Common Room. The rest of the night returned to him in bits and pieces, none of them completely coherent but all of them leaving him breathless and worried…and aroused.

The chuckle he thought he'd stifled must have echoed loud in his chest, because almost immediately thereafter the head on his chest raised up and looked into his face, eye to bloodshot eye.

It seemed to take Hermione forever to take in the situation she found herself in. "Um. Hi, Harry. What're you doing…in my bed?"

Harry couldn't meet her gaze any longer; he looked away and blushed furiously. "I was, er, going to ask you the same thing…I mean, how did I…did we…er…" Harry finally stopped, realising he was making no sense to himself, and surely even less to Hermione.

Hermione started to sit up, but seemed to suddenly realise her complete state of undress and quickly collapsed against Harry again. She tried to gather the sheets against herself, to serve as a barrier, no matter how flimsy, between them. She stopped with a confused expression as with every inch of sheet she pulled between them she uncovered Harry's prone form by an equal amount. She gave it up and started speaking. "Okay, I remember the champagne, and I recall becoming quite giddy. Oh, and I vaguely recall asking for a ride back to the Common Room…" she broke off and blushed a bit, but didn't continue.

"A ride?" Harry asked, not recalling that part.

"Yeah, you know, on your back. Actually, I didn't really ask per-se, I guess I jumped onto your back." She tried to meet his eyes, unsuccessfully.

Suddenly recalling more of the evening just past, Harry filled in more information. "Oh, yeah, I remember now. You jumped up, yelling 'gimme a ride!' and grabbed me around the neck. I was a bit, er, unstable myself, so I fell right over with you on top of me. We were laughing. I told you that it would be better if I carried you back a different way and I picked you up from the front…face to face…" and he broke off, recalling what had happened next.

"And I wrapped my arms around your neck?" Hermione prompted, then dropped to an embarrassed whisper. "And my… legs…around your waist?" Harry could just nod, mutely. He tried to stop thinking about the remembered sensation of holding her like that, the heat she had generated in him. He was definitely trying to move away from the memory of the kisses she had given him on his neck as he had walked unsteadily towards the Gryffindor Common Room, his hands holding her up, gripping her…no, too ticklish, that memory…

"We walked to the Common Room like that. I don't think anybody saw us," he said at last.

Hermione looked up, meeting his eyes again with her own betraying her concern. "What about the Fat Lady?" she asked, breathless.

"Nearly out cold, as I recall. Too many rum candies to have paid much attention, unless I miss my guess." Hermione sighed with relief. Then she seemed to realise that their situation hadn't changed at all. "How long…did we stay in the Common Room?" she asked, tentatively.

Harry hadn't thought that far into his fogged memory of the night before. Doing so now, he realised that there weren't any non-ticklish memories to think about. "No more than an hour or so, I imagine. I mean, between the chair by the fire and the rug in front of it…" he trailed off again when Hermione glanced up at him, startled.

"Oh yeah. The…rug." She seemed to have come to the same understanding as Harry, that there were more mines than clear ground in this conversation. Neither of them spoke. Harry wanted to break the uncomfortable silence, but was too embarrassed to say more.

"Harry," she said, sitting up and trying to cover up. She gave it up as a bad job and let the sheet slide down, uncovering her upper half. Harry gasped and tried to look away, but couldn't. He'd not realised, even after the previous night's activities, just how well developed Hermione had become. She always wore such modest clothing and the robes didn't help one to get any notion of her feminine form. Hermione saw him staring and, though she blushed, she ploughed ahead with what she had to say.

"Harry," she said again, putting a hand under his chin and making him look at her face. It took considerable effort.

"Yeah," Harry said, guilt and lust making his voice hoarse.

"First and foremost, I want you to know that I didn't expect this. I never expected us to get together, and it's not how I'd have wanted us to get together, but I'm…I'm glad we did. I can recall most of the night fairly clearly right now, even through this hangover I've got, and I'm pretty sure that it was…wonderful." Now it was her turn to look away. She apparently felt her nakedness more keenly than she had since she awoke in Harry's arms, as she grabbed a pillow and pulled it against her chest, covering herself.

"Wow, Hermione," Harry blurted. "I guess I never figured we'd end up in a situation like this. Not us. Not together, at any rate. But, I had…I don't think I've ever…I really liked it" He finished lamely, voice dropping down to a whisper. Harry had been sure he couldn't get much redder, much more wildly embarrassed than he had been, but he felt the temperature in his face rise a few more degrees.

Hermione lay back down beside him, and pulled the covers over herself again. Harry wondered what she was doing when the pillow she'd had clasped to her chest was removed from under the blanket and her head returned to his chest. His arm snaked around her to hold her again, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do. She tilted her face up to him, concern etched on her features. "No regrets, Harry?"

He didn't have to think for very long before he had an answer for her. "Nah. I'm just glad…" and he couldn't speak any further.

"What? What're you thinking?" Hermione prompted.

"I'm just glad my first time was with somebody I…cared about." Harry stopped awkwardly again. "Not to say that I'm in love with you. I mean, you…you're not in love with me, are you?"

Hermione chuckled softly. "No, Harry. I love you too, but it's not that sort of love. It's…" and she started laughing even harder, unable to speak.

"What?" asked Harry, on the verge of being offended.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry," she said, leaning up on her elbows, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she turned, momentarily making Harry forget his ire. "It's just that I was about to say that I love you like a brother." She lost it again, and returned to giggling, which Harry barely noticed as he was laughing as well. Some brother he had turned out to be!

He looked down at her as she laughed and thought about how attractive she was to him at that moment. It wasn't that she was pretty exactly. Harry had always thought she was cute, but never really seen her in this light. It was then that he realised it wasn't that he found her pretty right now, so much as he found her sexy, a concept that was even harder to get his brain wrapped around. A sexy Hermione Granger was definitely something new.

He noticed the way that her eyes lit up when she laughed, and how pretty her lips were, and it hit him all the sudden what Ron saw in her. But thinking of Ron was enough to cool his ardor completely. Ron had returned home for the holiday, against his wishes, to spend it with his family. His parents had demanded that he come, as Bill and Charlie, his brothers, were coming, and they wanted the whole family together during dark times. Harry and Hermione had both been forced to stay behind because of school projects, and Ron would be furious if he knew how Harry and Hermione were spending their vacation. He'd never speak to them again. The laughter died on his lips and he looked down at Hermione with concern. She noticed right away, and she stopped laughing as well.

"What Harry? What's the matter?" she asked, her own concern obvious in her voice.

"What…uhm…what happens now? What about…Ron? You know he…loves you." It was very hard for Harry to think of Ron right now, his guilt conflicting wildly with the pleasure of the night before. What had he been thinking? Of course, it was that he hadn't been thinking at all. His brain had not been involved in many of his actions the night before.

Hermione looked away, suddenly shy again, hugging Harry tight. "Ron isn't in love with me, Harry. He loves me, and I know that, but he's not in love any more than you and I are…"

Harry stopped her there. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I know Ron, know him far better than you might think. He's barking mad about you. I see the way he looks at you, and you have no idea the number of times I've had to bite my tongue when he says something about you that makes him blatantly obvious. And, I'll admit, I have a new take on just what he's been thinking all this time." She looked up in time to see him raise his eyebrows at her, and smiled weakly at him.

"If you've been so observant as to notice how Ron feels about me, then I guess you must know I'm more than just fond of him myself. Oh, Harry, this is hard! I'd never have done…this…with you if I'd not had my judgement impaired by the champagne and if I hadn't been feeling so…lonely. It's not that I don't find you attractive…" She stopped, smiling at him again. "I must, deep down. After all, a few glasses of bubbly and I was jumping all over you." Harry smiled back at her, but her expression quickly faded. "I feel terrible. I feel like I've used you, and betrayed Ron." Tears began to well in her eyes.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "What you said could go for both of us. I just reacted on instinct last night. Being so close to you and alone with you, and not entirely in control of myself in general…I guess I just listened to my body. And you needn't tell me about being lonely. I'm pretty well versed in lonely…" Harry's face took on a blank expression as he tried to repress memories he'd rather not relive.

"So, Harry, what should we do? Are you going to…tell him about this?"

"Oh, Lord, no. I can think of no better way to make him hate me…hate us…and no doubt ruin our friendship as well, when it all falls apart. No, I think this is going to have to be our little secret." He stopped, suddenly unsure "If, that is, you…"

"Yes, Harry," Hermione responded at once, her voice tinged with regret. "That makes sense. I think I can keep it a secret too. I hate to, especially with Ron, but I think we have to. I'll tell you one thing I am going to do, though."

"What's that?"

"Never get drunk again!" They both laughed again, the tension momentarily forgotten.

"I'll tell you one thing I'm going to do, too," Harry returned.

"What's that," Hermione asked, still smiling at him. Harry turned over and rolled her onto her back, freeing his arm from around her shoulders and ending up hovering over her. She laughed and he smiled down at her.

"I'm going to take the privilege of another kiss." For all their intimacy of the night before, the kiss was tentative at first, but soon warmed and became more passionate than Harry had intended. After what seemed like a large portion of forever, he pulled away from Hermione, extricating her hands from his hair, and took a deep breath.

"Wow, that's not at all what I'd intended," he began, but trailed off, looking down at her now exposed body. His glance became a hungry stare. He started when she spoke with determination.

"Harry Potter, if this is really where it ends and I'm going to have to take the secret with me to the grave, I'll be damned if I don't make the most of it before I do!" She laughed, smiled wickedly up at him and pulled him back down to her for another kiss. The rest of the morning passed most pleasantly.

It was nearly noon before Harry decided that he'd best get out of the girl's dormitory before Professor McGonagall caught him there. He was looking around the room, considering his options, but turned again to Hermione who was putting on some casual clothes, so she could accompany him to the Great Hall. He briefly wondered how he was going to spend the rest of his life looking at her without thinking of her in only her knickers as she was just then, or even less, as she'd been before. He cleared his throat and said in a husky voice "Hermione, I know you've given me a great deal already, but I'm afraid I've got to ask you for more."

Hermione giggled and finished pulling up her jeans. "Harry, I'm already dressed! If you think…" but she stopped when she saw he was laughing at her. "What?" she demanded.

"No, Hermione, not that. It's just that I think that my clothes are still down in the common room." He gestured around her bed, inviting her to verify for herself that there were no clothes lying anywhere. "I'll need for you to fetch them up here for me, before I can leave."

"What if I want to keep you up here, all for myself?" she asked, grinning. "No, I suppose Lavender and Parvati would never let that happen. Unless I promised to share you, and told them about how good you are at…" She never got to finish the sentence, as Harry had thrown a pillow at her.

"Alright, alright, I'll be right back." And with that, she walked down the stairs. Five minutes passed, and Harry had already begun to wonder if they'd somehow been discovered. Hermione finally returned, a bundle of rumpled clothes, undergarments and robes included, in her arms when she entered the room, her cheeks blazing.

"We are so lucky that Professor McGonagall didn't come into the Common Room this morning! Oh, Harry, our things were everywhere! The brocaded chair, the one by the fireplace? Tipped over. My bra, my knickers were on the stairs up to the dormitories!" Harry finally gave in to a laughing fit and fell over onto Hermione's bed.

"It's not funny! The least that we could have expected was detentions and a hundred points lost!" but she too had smiled and begun to separate their clothes so that Harry could dress.

"Sorta makes me wish I could Apparate back to my room. Yes, Hermione, I know, not on the school grounds," he finished, heading Hermione off before she could correct him. "Makes me wonder, though, if that particular ward wasn't put in place just to stop this sort of activity from occurring." He tipped her a wink. She threw the pillow back at him.

After Harry finished dressing, they walked together down to the Common Room, Hermione scouting the way. Harry was about to duck back up to the boy's dormitory to change into more appropriate and less wrinkled clothes when Hermione stopped him.

"Harry, I know we're not going to get the chance to talk about this. It'll be a hard enough secret to keep without it being brought to the fore of my mind all the time. But I wanted to…thank you. You're sweet, you're gentle, and you're a fantastic lover…" these words brought the color back to her cheeks again. "I want you to know that I'll never forget."

Harry cupped her chin and brought her face back up, so he could look into her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll never forget either. I meant what I said. I'm so happy my first time was with somebody I…love." He kissed her lips, tenderly, without the fiery passion they had recently shared, but all the more passionate because of it. They broke apart and Harry slipped up the stairs to change his clothes and to start keeping their secret.