AN: Merry Christmas! As an early Christmas gift, I decided to upload two, yes, two chapters! Bwahaha. :) Enjoy, my lovable ones!

And as anyone I owe gummy bears to... they're right here. You come get 'em. *wink*

Disclaimer: Not mine! I am excessively cheerful today!

Dedicated to: Everyone who reviewed. You are the stuff of inspiration. *glomp!*

Chapter 17: Christmas Cocoa

So I lay my head back down

And I lift my hands and pray

To be only yours, I pray

To be only yours, I know now

You're my only hope...

- Only Hope, Switchfoot

            Harry opened his eyes, and there was no sun. It was simply a bright, shining light, and the wind was cold as it whispered to him from outside his window, knocking loudly with fingers of twigs and tree branches.

            He reached out, almost involuntarily, then drew back again, remembered Hermione wasn't beside him anymore, and that she hadn't been for months now.

            Stumbling out of bed, he slipped his glasses on and looked out the window. Snow, bright and pristine, sweet and glittering, layered the streets outside in mounds of pure white. Children were already playing, and their sweet laughter drifted up to him on the wings of the cold wind.

            Harry rested his forehead against the frigid glass, closed his eyes and sighed.

            "I wish you were mine, Hermione." he prayed to the snowflakes drifting down, frozen tears from heaven. "I wish I was yours. I wish you loved me too."

            He could still feel her there, her hand in his, her lips against his, her voice, her laugh.

            Harry opened his eyes and wiped away the tears. And he went back to bed.

***

            "Snow! There's snow!" Hermione looked positively beautiful in the bright shining light reflected from the snow. At least that what Draco thought.

            He smiled sleepily at her. "Want to go outside and play?" Hermione laughed. "Absolutely!" Draco blinked. "Wait, I was-"

            She smiled disarmingly at him. "Oh, come on. Or no breakfast for you." Draco heaved a mock sigh and rolled out of bed as Hermione dashed around, pulling jackets and mittens out of the closet. "You'd better be nice to me." he said sadly as he pulled on the thick jacket over his dark pants. Hermione looked happier than she had been in weeks. "I will be, once you come on out."

            Fifteen minutes later, Draco stood uncomfortably in the middle of the snow-laden garden as Hermione walked briskly around, inspecting the wards. "They seem to have held up fine during the snowfall..." she mentioned, reinforcing them one by one.

            Draco looked down, his eye caught by a smear of blood-red on against the virgin snow...

            Hermione walked back to him, smiling. "That's done. We can go play now... oh!"

            She stared at the rose in Draco's hand. "Oh..." she breathed, touching it carefully. "They're still alive." Draco held it carefully, considerate and gentle. "Yes." he said thoughtfully. "They are."

            He smiled then, beautifully, and he held it out to her. "Here you go, Hermione. Merry Christmas." She looked at him quizzically. "What?" Draco took her hand, folded it around the rose's thornless stem. "I said, Merry Christmas."

            Realization broke over her face like the dawn. "Merry Christmas to you too!" she squealed happily, throwing her arms around his neck in a fit of joy. Draco smiled, patted her on the head gently. She pulled away, clutching the rose, eyes bright.

            Draco took it from her and gently set it on the windowsill. "Let's put that there for the moment, why don't we?" Then he turned back to her. "After all, I still want to play."

            Hermione caught his eyes in hers, then narrowed them playfully.

            "Aha. So is this the part where I trip over backwards and you catch me right before I fall?" she whispered teasingly, slowly shuffling backwards into the soft snow. Draco's eyes twinkled.

            "No. It's the part where I push you over, then follow you down."

            And with one swift move, he did exactly that.

            And their laughter was carried up by the frigid breeze, to the bare, skeletal treetops and beyond.

***

            Parvati knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until finally, with a heavy sigh, she pushed it open.

            "Harry, there's Christmas tea, come on down."

            She was met by a steely silence from the man who bent over the desk, scribbling away as if his life depended on it. And as Parvati stared forlornly at him, she knew that it probably did.

            "Harry, please." she implored. "It's Christmas, for heaven's sake. Are you going to waste it cooped up in your little garret scribbling away at parchment?"

            Harry's voice was bitter. "As long as Hermione receives my Christmas wishes, I do not consider my efforts wasted. As long as she knows I still care, I do not mind spending all Christmas up here, alone. And even if she does not reply, as long as I know it got to her safely, my Christmas will be considered well-spent."

            Outside, the snow was falling slowly but sweetly. Parvati felt her heart ache. She walked over to him, laid her hands on his tense, hunched shoulders. "It's Christmas." she repeated slowly. "I prepared a tea, I worked hard on it to make it presentable and edible, and Ron's downstairs, waiting for you."

            She took a breath, went on. "We're having dinner later, and we invited everyone. Molly, Ginny, Charles, Bill, and Percy... and we even invited Sirius, and he said he'd try his best to make it." She felt Harry flinch at the mention of his godfather.

            "You won't make us incomplete, will you, Harry? Just because you're incomplete yourself?" Parvati felt something rising up in her, and her grip unconsciously tightened on Harry's shoulders. Her eyes swept over his cluttered desk, the unwritten letters, the pile of drafts and crumpled parchments, the ink-spotted quills, the book of Paladins... the sketch of Hermione that Draco had made.

            "Are you going to be like this forever? Are you going to spend the rest of your life clinging to someone who's fading away faster than candle smoke?" Parvati sighed. "Harry, you have to learn to let go."

            "But I love her." his voice was small, hurt and full of tears.

            "We love her too, Harry, but you don't see us pining away for her, do you? Of course we're worried," she added hastily. "we're all worried about her, and we've all got our own fair share of... er... regret about Malfoy... but Harry, she's a million miles away... and we're here, and this is now, and this is Christmas."

            Her voice dropped to a whisper. "We miss you too, Harry. Just like, you miss her. But," she gestured to the scrolls of parchment and the burnt-down candles. "But it's more painful for us missing you, because you're right here, yet you seem an eternity away."

            "But Hermione?"

            "Hermione really is an eternity away, Harry, and you aren't, which makes it so much worse for us. We miss you, Harry, and though Hermione can't come back... Ron and I are hoping that you still can."

            She laid a hand on his tousled black head. "We're hoping you still will."

            Harry was silent. Parvati squeezed his shoulders in a sisterly fashion and walked to the door. Before she shut it behind her, she threw in her final word. "Ron's downstairs, and even though he won't admit it, I'll say it for him. We love you, and we love Hermione too... but we know how to let go, and we know how to accept things as they are... Harry, you should learn how to. Ron misses you, so do I, and we understand that you miss Hermione... but Harry, it's been a year since she left."

            "You have to learn to heal yourself. And maybe, just maybe, Christmas with us, the people who are still here and loving you, will help somehow."

            Parvati tucked a loose curl behind her ear, thinking of Ron, who was sitting downstairs, forlornly nursing a cup of lukewarm tea. "Is Hermione your only hope, Harry? Then in that case... it's too late to save you now, is it? She's saving another, and it's up to you to save yourself. We're willing to help, but you won't let us."

            She stopped her hand on the doorknob. She looked one last time at Harry, who was staring down at his unfinished letter, his hands and knuckles as white as the snow outside.

            "I've said my piece. We'll be waiting. In the meanwhile, Merry Christmas, Harry."

            A soft click as the door closed behind her, and the footsteps faded away.

            Harry lifted his head and looked out the window in front of him. With a shaking hand, he swung it open, letting in the freezing cold air, and the sweet laughter of children playing in the snow below. Silence.

            He could remember those days at Hogwarts, when the three of them, the inseparable trio, would tumble through the snow with nothing troublesome in their minds. Nothing troublesome, but for the fact that Malfoy would always be there with his sneer and ready insults.

            Harry's heart ached. Malfoy, once again, you've defeated me. But I'm not giving in this time.

            He closed the window, and began arranging the scrolls on his desk. He gave the letter a glance and set it aside, pushing back his chair and making his way to this closet.

            I'll finish it later. Meanwhile, I have Christmas to attend.

***

            They tumbled in the door, laughing, their arms around each other. Draco smiled down at her, a smile like a sunrise. Hermione pushed the hair back from his smooth forehead, her expression softening. And playfully, he stuck out his tongue and nipped a snowflake off her cheek.

They stood in the hallway, snow and wind blowing in through the open door and swirling around them as they locked themselves in a kiss and sealed off the world around them.

            Hermione closed her eyes and let herself drown in the warmth, the utter warmth and presence that was Draco. His hands on her waist, the searing warmth of his mouth, though they had been outside for more than an hour, her arms locked around his neck and the brief glimpse of snow-white skin and silvery eyelashes before she closed her eyes and kissed him.

            Finally they broke apart, laughing softly. He pulled her to him, as he closed the door behind him. "Warm enough to melt the snow." he winked at her. She laughingly pushed him away and told him, in a mock-stern voice not to drip on the carpet. Draco looked meekly at her.

            "Excuse me, there's nothing here but bare wood flooring and worm-eaten knotholes. What carpet?"

            Hermione tossed him her jacket. "Pretend there's one." and she headed to the living room to start a fire.

            Fifteen minutes later found them curled up before a roaring fire, with Hermione cradling a cup of cocoa in her hands as she leaned comfortably against and Draco idly playing with the curls of her hair. She closed her eyes as his hand slid down her cheek in an uncharacteristically warm gesture. "Merry Christmas, love." she murmured.

            Draco looked up into the fire, its ruby red flames reflecting in his eyes of steel grey. Outside, the snow was drifting down like so many white feathers, as if the angels up above were having a pillow fight.

            He smiled, and Hermione looked at him. He leaned forward, and met her lips in a warm kiss.

            "Merry Christmas to you, too."