A/N: Okay, I'm going to try and do my best to get back on track here. I've just been so busy lately. And I know it seems weird to have a Christmas-y chapter on Halloween weekend, but oh well. Here's Chapter 2.

CHAPTER TWO

'TIS THE SEASON

A few hours earlier…

Harry was in hot pursuit of his target, and he wasn't about to let them escape. They had evaded and even gotten the drop on him a few times already, but Harry had managed to regain the upper hand. Although, one thing could certainly be said for his adversary: they certainly knew how to handle a broomstick.

The cold December air pierced at Harry's face, not quite cold enough to cause frostbite, but just chilly enough to make the skin feel raw. The snowfall coming from the dull grey sky was relatively calm, providing a serene setting against the racing broomsticks that zigzagged over the open area outside. Fortunately, the snow wasn't a flurry, so it did nothing to impede the view of Harry and the person in front of him.

The figure in question suddenly broke to the right in a downward arc, and Harry determinedly tightened his mitten-enclosed hands on his broomstick and followed suit. Keeping his eyes trained upon the person, Harry could clearly see where they were headed, and he immediately sped up in an effort to stop them before they reached it. Closer and closer Harry came, closing the distance between him and his opponent in under five seconds until at last, Harry could reach out and wrap his arms around the slender form of the person in front of him. While doing this, Harry had propelled himself forward, and the momentum of the action sent both him and the person tumbling down toward the ground right before they could reach the Quidditch hoop.

Luckily, the snow-covered ground wasn't far below, so Harry and Hermione's laughter wasn't cut off after they had impacted softly with the snow. In fact, their laughter continued as the two of them rolled around as an aftereffect of their minor crash. When they stopped, Hermione was on her back while Harry was propped up on his left side, his arm encircling Hermione as she leaned into his chest.

"Cheater!" Hermione playfully accused as her laughter began to die down. "And I was about to win, too!"

"Hey, I told you," Harry smiled back, "I'm more of a Seeker than a Chaser."

Hermione adjusted the brow of the wool cap sitting atop her head so that she could look at Harry better. "Still making excuses, are we? It's not like it's your fault…well, actually, it is because after all, you were the one who insisted I learn to play Quidditch."

"I know, I know," said Harry exasperatedly. "But at least you were willing to. Although, it seems I've created a monster."

Hermione laughed again. "Harry James Potter, did you just call me a beast?"

"Oh, but I meant it in the most loving of ways!"

The fistful of snow that Hermione threw directly into Harry's face at that very moment made Harry release his hold on Hermione and roll to the side. Laughing triumphantly, Hermione got up and ran north, where a two-story brick cottage was sitting atop a small hill.

"That was meant in the most loving of ways, too!" Hermione called over her shoulder as she continued running.

Harry shook the snow out of his face and grinned mischievously. "Oh, no you don't. You're not getting away that easy!" He scooped up a handful of snow of his own and gave chase. Within seconds, Harry had caught up with Hermione and was able to grab her gently around the waist, but firmly enough that he knew she wouldn't be going anywhere.

"Harry! Don't you dare!"

"Sorry, angel, but you shouldn't start something if you can't handle how it ends."

Harry used a small spell to keep Hermione in place while he pulled back the collar of her coat, as well as her shirt underneath.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," Hermione pleaded. "There's really no need t-ahhhh!"

Her sentence was cut off when Harry dumped the snow down her two layers. The icy feeling slid down Hermione's back, and some of the snow even trickled through her pants.

"Tit for tat!" Harry declared triumphantly as he ran back towards where their brooms and the Quaffle were. Once he reached them, Harry turned around to see what Hermione was doing, only to be lightly tackled to the ground.

"You're going to pay for that!" Hermione's smile betrayed her threat.

Harry gazed up at his girlfriend with puppy dog eyes. "Oh, really?"

Those eyes made Hermione melt inside. "Not fair! You know I can't resist that look!" When Harry persisted in his sympathy stare, Hermione sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright! You're off the hook…until tonight." With that, she leaned down and kissed Harry with as much passion as she could muster.

The kiss deepened even more when Harry snaked his arm across Hermione's back and flipped them so that they were in the same position they had been a few minutes earlier. Harry broke off the kiss, leaving the two of them frazzled-looking.

"Well, then," said Harry heavily, "I'm already counting down the hours."

This comment made Hermione smile as bright as the sun, had it been out on this particular day. She glanced over at the Quaffle she had dropped when she and Harry had been falling. "Up for another match?"

Harry brought his watch arm up to read the time, which was currently 5:15 in the evening. "It's getting late," he said. "We should go back inside and start on dinner or something."

Hermione nodded in agreement as Harry helped her to her feet. They then collected their broomsticks and the Quaffle and began trekking through the snow towards the cottage.

The cottage belonged to Marcus Bloom, Harry's handler in the Auror Division, and he had offered to let Harry and Hermione stay there during the first few days of their Christmas vacation while their apartment in London was being updated with the latest defensive spells. It was ordinarily used by Marcus on his own vacations, but as a summer house. The hill the cottage was perched on overlooked a vast expanse of sea and a small beach. But since the season was presently winter, the water was a depressingly pale shade of gray and the temperature of it cold enough that even standing barefoot on the shore wasn't bearable for more than two minutes.

Yet despite the cottage being used in its off season, the interior still provided its inhabitants with a warm and cozy feeling. By now, Harry and Hermione had become accustomed to the way the cottage was set up. So after they stepped inside, they paid no attention to the half living room, half kitchen that composed almost the entire area of the downstairs level and was divided by a sitting bar in the kitchen. A staircase built over the closer end of the bar led to the second level, which was made up of two bedrooms and a bathroom. It was the kind of place to go in order to get away from the routines of everyday life and just relax. And that was precisely the reason Harry and Hermione had taken Marcus up on his offer.

Harry and Hermione made their way into the living room area, which they had took the liberty of decorating for the holidays while they were here. Christmas lights were strung along the tops of the walls and a medium-sized and fully decorated Christmas tree was placed in the left corner of the room. Elsewhere, things like miniature Santa statues and nutcrackers occupied smooth surfaces such as tables.

Harry and Hermione sat on the couch in front of the roaring fireplace; the piece of furniture was flanked on either side by a plush armchair and a wooden rocking one. The couple removed their gloves and held them out before the flames, letting the heat restore feeling in their fingers.

"Marcus really does have a nice set up here," said Harry as he and Hermione were still sitting there.

"Yeah," nodded Hermione as she removed her cap and ruffled her hair a bit. "I almost don't want to go back to our apartment tomorrow."

"Which is why we should really enjoy the time we have left here while we can."

Hermione stood up. "Yes. Well, I'm going to go change. I think you soaked through the back of my shirt with that snow of yours."

"Well, stuff happens," Harry replied slyly. He had his shoulder shoved playfully by Hermione before she disappeared up the stairs. Once Harry was sure she was gone, he reached into his right coat pocket and pulled out a small black box that had a soft exterior. Harry opened the box to quickly examine what lay inside. After staring thoughtfully at the contents for a few seconds, he looked around at the setting, then back at the contents.

Not just yet, Harry thought to himself before closing the box and stuffing it back into the pocket. The time, mood and setting had to be just right. As he replaced the box, Harry caught a whiff of his clothes. They had the distinct and rather strong smell of having raced around outside. Kicking off his boots and resting them beside the fire, Harry decided to go upstairs and take a quick shower. Although, he ended up having to wait for Hermione to finish first.

About fifteen to twenty minutes later, Harry had returned downstairs dressed in a dark green sweater and jeans. When he set foot in the kitchen, he was met with two things. One, the sight of Hermione dressed in a cashmere red sweater and black pants while she and a few enchanted pots and pans stewed away at preparing dinner and two, the enticing aroma of a well-cooked meal.

As Harry came closer to Hermione, though, another scent invaded his nostrils. It was the smell of the perfume Harry had given Hermione as an early Christmas gift last week; it smelled like a mixture of flowers and strawberries. Smiling, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and nuzzled her neck, which lay underneath her curly hair. He could sense her pleasure at this.

"I'm famished," he whispered into her ear.

"It won't take much longer," Hermione said.

"No, you don't understand," Harry growled as he pulled her slightly closer. "What I'm hungry for is something else entirely."

Hermione turned herself around in his arms and placed hers around his neck. "Pace yourself, there, Mr. Potter. You can't have dessert first." She planted an enticing kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry kissed her back, many times. "You know," he muttered between each one, "you're not helping the situation. Especially when you're wearing that perfume."

"Once again, don't blame me, blame yourself." She found herself kissed senseless this time.

"Eeeevening." The sudden sly-sounding voice came from the right, where the dining table sat. Harry and Hermione stopped kissing and both turned their heads to see Marcus leaning casually against the table, smiling through his stubbly face with his arms folded across his chest. When he made eye contact with Harry and Hermione, Marcus gave them a wolfish wink.

Harry gave his superior a look that was a cross between a smile and an annoyed stare. "Marcus. Can we help you with something?"

"No," Marcus replied casually. "But can I help you with something? Champagne? Wine? Candlelight?" He swiped his wand through the air directly over the table, and all three of the items he had mentioned appeared there. "I see you're enjoying the cottage rather well."

"Yeah," Harry responded with just a touch of sarcasm. "And we'd enjoy it a lot more if we were alone."

"Not to worry, I just dropped by momentarily to pick up some papers." Marcus held up a manila folder. "Barnes needs the paperwork on that special assignment Ian went on recently. Seems I left it here when I came down for the weekend a while ago."

Ian was a fellow Auror of Harry's in the Ministry, as well as being part of Harry's team. The other members were Hermione and Ann Flynn. Barnes, on the other hand, was the current head of the Auror Division and ran it with a no-nonsense authority. In a way, Barnes reminded Harry of Severus Snape, sans the greasy hair and hateful attitude.

"Well, it looks like you found it," said Harry in what he hoped was a patient tone. "Now, I realize this is your cottage and everything, but this is Hermione's and my vacation. "

"Say no more," grinned Marcus as he tucked the folder underneath his left arm. "I'll get out of your rather messy hair. And if I don't see you two before you return to work, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Oh, and Harry, don't forget to use…you know." With that suggestive remark, Marcus winked roguishly one more time and Disapparated from the spot. Harry and Hermione were left shaking their heads in amusement.

"He's a real jokester, isn't he?" Hermione remarked cheekily.

"Oh, he's a riot," said Harry sarcastically. "You should see him when he's drunk."

"I have," Hermione reminded him. "Curiously, there's very little difference in his sense of humor then."

"Except when he tries to goose a few girls," Harry responded roughly.

"Relax, it was the Halloween party, and he thought I was someone else. After all, I had on a mask. You didn't have to jinx him."

"I know," nodded Harry. "It just made me feel better."

Hermione smiled lopsidedly at him right as the timer on the stove went off.

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the candlelit table with plates of ham, potatoes, vegetables and glasses of either chilled pumpkin juice or wine spaced between them. Slow, yet rather romantic, Christmas music filtered through the speakers of a radio mounted on the kitchen counter. All of the Christmas decorations around them sparkled beautifully, giving the scene a majestic quality.

It was when Harry and Hermione had reached the dessert course of scrumptious apple pie and vanilla ice cream and after all regular topics of conversation had been exhausted that Harry noticed how silent his girlfriend was; something that was very unlike her. More specifically, she had abandoned her food and was gazing thoughtfully out of the window on her left. Not much could be seen through the glass, except for her own reflection.

"Hermione." That got her attention, and she looked back across the table at Harry. "Something wrong?"

Hermione held his gaze for a few seconds before shaking her head, but unconvincingly. "No, it's nothing. I just got to thinking."

"About…?"

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "We're on vacation. I shouldn't bring it up now." But a few more seconds under a pointed stare from Harry seemed to convince her otherwise. She sighed heavily. "Okay, then. We've been on the trail of The Brotherhood of the Black Serpent for six months now. We even have access to one of their own. Does it make any sense that we're still coming up empty?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be silent. The mention of their Brotherhood connection, Ron Weasley, hardened Harry's jaw and made him exhale deeply through his nostrils. It brought up emotions too troublesome and difficult to deal with, and Harry certainly didn't want to deal with them at a time like this. After all, Ron had seriously betrayed Harry and Hermione's friendship and trust with him when he had not only switched sides out of jealousy and rage, but also had a hand in the death of his own sister, Ginny.

"No," Harry answered finally. "No, it doesn't." And that happened to be a truthful answer. It really didn't make sense that the Division's continued interrogations of Ron in the last six months had yielded no results. Something wasn't right about that.

"Look," Hermione began, "I'm sorry I brought-"

"Don't worry about it," Harry cut in, a bit more forcefully than he would've liked. "Just…wait until we get back to the office to do that sort of thinking."

Hermione nodded and got up from her seat, walked around the table to come up behind Harry, and wrapped her arms around him soothingly. She kissed his cheek tenderly and rested her face in his shoulder.

Harry was grateful for the gesture and returned it by rubbing Hermione's arm and kissing her own cheek.


The train began to move, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son's thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him…

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in the air.

"He'll be all right," murmured Hermione.

As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

"I know he will."

That was where the dream ended and Harry suddenly awoke.

It was the dream he had been having on and off for a little over two years now. Upon the dream's inception, the woman who always told Harry, "He'll be all right," as the train kept rounding the corner had always been Ginny. But in the past few months, ever since June when he and Hermione had gotten together, Hermione had taken Ginny's place as the mother of Harry's children. Also in the past months, Ron had disappeared completely from the dream. Harry wasn't sure how much truth lay in the dream, but he was sure that the prospect of starting a family with Hermione was something he wanted to make happen.

Harry, now on his back, moved his right arm along the bedspace beside him, but discovered it to be empty. Frowning, Harry lifted his head to see that Hermione's side of the bed was indeed empty, but the indentation her head had made in her pillow was still visible. The mattress itself was still warm.

It was then that Harry spotted the stream of light sneaking into the bedroom through the crack of the door, which was ajar. Seconds later, the light was extinguished, the door was pushed fully open and Hermione walked in, looking fully awake.

Harry also noted that, unlike him at the moment, Hermione was wearing clothes.

He retrieved his glasses from the bedside table and stared groggily at Hermione's moonlit form. "What time is it?" Harry asked thickly as he tried to fight off the allure of going back to sleep.

"4:30 in the morning," Hermione replied as she swept over to the dresser and pulled open one of the drawers. She then extracted a set of Harry's clothes. "Get dressed. As fast as you can," she added as she tossed them over to him.

Harry caught his clothes as he was straightening himself up. By now, he was becoming more alert. "What's going on?" he asked as he started pulling on the garments.

"Marcus sent a message by Floo Powder. I heard it because I was up getting a glass of water."

Harry stood up as he finished hitching up his pants. "What did he say?"

"There's been an incident at the Ministry. We're needed."