Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, neither are the lyrics.
{Remus's thoughts} [Hermione's thoughts]
Chapter Eight: Happy Christmas
Hermione fell asleep on Christmas Eve without candies dancing in her head. All she could see was his face. All she could hear was his voice. All she could feel was the feel of his lips on hers for that brief, wonderful moment. His taste lingered on her lips, and his smell was in her robe. She was happy- genuinely happy- for the first time in months. Better yet, she was in love.
Remus didn't sleep much on Christmas Eve. All he could think about was Hermione. {Am I doing the right thing? I know we love each other; the light is proof enough of that. But she's still young. If anyone were to find out- But does that even matter?} His thoughts quarreled all night long. By the end, his only thought was whether his gift for her was good enough or not.
Christmas morning arrived. The usual noise in the Common Room had increased ten-fold. Ginny dashed into Hermione's dormitory. "Come on! The boys are going to kill you if you don't get down there so they can open presents." [Boys. All they can think about is presents. Presents- I have to find that part.] Hermione shouted to Ginny, promising she'd be there in a moment, and dove under her bed to find Remus's present.
Dumbledore's head popped into Remus's chamber on Christmas morning. "Wake up! Presents and the like are in the Staff Room. Don't want to miss what I got Snape!" Remus laughed quietly to himself. Dumbledore turned into a little boy every Christmas. After talking to Harry, Remus had gotten him the perfect present. Maybe this year Albus would be happier after opening all of his presents and, apparently, finding something lacking.
Hermione's Christmas morning was interesting, to say the least. She had received the usual: books, parchment, quills, socks from Dobby, a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, sweets, and, from Ron, a pile of Quidditch-related things. "I thought you should learn more about it," was all he would say to her questioning.
Lupin didn't get anything of interest from the other staff-members. However, Dumbledore was very pleased with his present. "Woolen socks! I thought nobody would ever- How did you- Thank you so much," Dumbledore ecstatically thanked Remus, his eyes glittering with tears.
With minutes left before it was time to leave for the feast, Ron asked Hermione to talk to him "in private." Hermione grudgingly followed him into a back corner of the Common Room. "Look up," he said. Hermione caught a glimpse of green and suddenly Ron's face was millimeters from her own. She dodged to the side and he caught her cheek.
"Ronald Weasley! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"It's mistletoe."
"I know and I really don't care," Hermione's voice grew louder, so loud that it was shaking with her anger. "Explain yourself."
"You're supposed to tell people how you feel about them at Christmas and I thought that- I thought that I could give you your first kiss."
"My first what? Without even asking? Honestly, do you think that I've never kissed anyone before? What do you think Viktor and I did in the library? We weren't just studying. And while we're telling people how we feel, never do anything like that ever again, Ron, or I swear to God that you'll regret you ever met me." With that, she turned and pushed her way out of the crowd that had grown around them. As she began to open the portrait, Ginny rushed up and began to try and calm her down.
"What happened to her? I thought she liked me. She danced with me, didn't she?" Ron tried to make sense of it all, but neither he nor Harry could come up with a reason why Hermione had gotten more upset than she had ever been before.
By the time Hermione got to the Great Hall, she had calmed down considerably. However, at the first sight of Ron's red hair bobbing above the rest of the crowd entering the Great Hall, she began to shake again. [That prat. How could he even think that?]
{Is Hermione okay? I've never seen anyone that angry in my life.}Remus continued to watch her under the pretense of 'scanning' the room for any trouble. He would have continued, but Dumbledore commanded everyone's attention.
"Happy Christmas, everyone. I trust everyone received at least one good present today? Good, good. Well, I know all of you are anxious to eat, so tuck in!" Food appeared on their plates and everyone began to eat. After several minutes, Dumbledore got their attention again. "Sorry to disturb you, but it appears that there are yet more owls eager to deliver holiday greetings. Watch your heads!" Owls swooped overhead. Hermione was the only one to receive a greeting. The note read: 'My room, 8 o'clock.' Hermione glanced at the staff table with a questioning gaze. Remus caught it and gave the slightest of nods. She carefully folded the note and tucked it into her pocket.
"What was that, Hermione?" Ginny asked, ever-curious.
"Nothing important."
"Note from your secret admirer, eh? I knew whoever it was couldn't forget Christmas."
Hermione ate dinner, the earlier incident with Ron in the back of her mind. All she could think about was him. 7:30 came and Hermione excused herself. She was 'tired' and needed to get some rest. She knew that the rest of her dorm-mates would be a bit 'occupied' for the rest of the night. She freshened up, grabbed his present, and headed for his office.
Remus excused himself as well. He got to his office early and paced until she came, worrying over whether his present was good enough or not.
Hermione arrived at his door. She shrunk the present and tucked it into her pocket, next to his note. The door opened at her touch and she walked in to see him pacing. "Remus, are you alright?"
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in, I'm fine. How are you?"
"Fine, fine." A moment of awkwardness filled the room. "Er, happy Christmas, Remus!"
"Happy Christmas. I have your present."
"And I have yours. You go first."
Lupin motioned for Hermione to sit on his couch, he sat in the chair opposite it. "Accio guitar." A guitar flew in and Lupin grabbed it out of mid-air before it beaned Hermione in the head. "For your present, I found a song. It's a Muggle song, but I think it rather fits." He cleared his throat and began to sing.
"Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
I want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love more than this
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time
Come what may
Come what may
I will love you until my dying day
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you
And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time
Come what may
Come what may I will love you until my dying day"
Hermione was speechless. "Remus, that was amazing. I would give you your present but you just gave it to me."
"Thank you. But, what do you mean?"
"I mean," she enlarged the present, which turned out to be her guitar, "I was going to sing that song for you. But I guess this will have to do."
Remus began to ask what 'this' was but was cut off as Hermione's lips touched his. Her present continued on for a bit, but Hermione finally pulled away. "I meant what I said last night, Remus. I love you."
"I love you too, Hermione. But, can I ask one thing?"
"Anything."
"Why me? A woman with your brain, your talent, your you-ness, she could have anyone. Why did you pick me? I'm, what, twice your age, not that that matters, I have hardly any money, I'm not fantastic in the looks department, and I'm a werewolf. Why pick me?"
"I didn't 'pick' you, silly. I fell in love with you. There's a difference. I'm not one of those girls who goes 'Hmm, I think that this week this guy will be the love of my life'. I don't pick people. I just follow my heart. It lead me to you. You know that. You've seen proof of it," she grabbed his hand, causing the light to glow again. "What you are doesn't matter to you. Okay, you're a werewolf. But you're also the most loving, caring, smartest, kindest man I've ever met." Hermione's present continued on a bit more.
Remus was the one who pulled away this time. "Hermione, you do realize what will happen if anyone finds out? I'll get fired, I'll go to Azkaban."
"For what, loving me?"
"You're my student. You're underage. The Ministry hates werewolves. They've wanted to lock me away for a long time. This will seal it all."
"I won't tell a soul, Remus, I swear." The bell chimed. "I have to go. I'll- I'll send you a letter. I'll be Areebah, writing to Remus. You be, um, Fateen, writing to Hermione. I have to go. I love you."
"I love you." They kissed once more, but Hermione had to go. She left the room against her will to go back to the dormitory.
[{Never knew I could feel like this.. Want to vanish inside your kiss..}]
*End Chapter*
A/N: Read, review, make me happy! The upcoming celebration of the Pilgrims arriving to kill off the original dwellers of North America should give me plenty of time to write more. I'm still collecting names for an email list.
{Remus's thoughts} [Hermione's thoughts]
Chapter Eight: Happy Christmas
Hermione fell asleep on Christmas Eve without candies dancing in her head. All she could see was his face. All she could hear was his voice. All she could feel was the feel of his lips on hers for that brief, wonderful moment. His taste lingered on her lips, and his smell was in her robe. She was happy- genuinely happy- for the first time in months. Better yet, she was in love.
Remus didn't sleep much on Christmas Eve. All he could think about was Hermione. {Am I doing the right thing? I know we love each other; the light is proof enough of that. But she's still young. If anyone were to find out- But does that even matter?} His thoughts quarreled all night long. By the end, his only thought was whether his gift for her was good enough or not.
Christmas morning arrived. The usual noise in the Common Room had increased ten-fold. Ginny dashed into Hermione's dormitory. "Come on! The boys are going to kill you if you don't get down there so they can open presents." [Boys. All they can think about is presents. Presents- I have to find that part.] Hermione shouted to Ginny, promising she'd be there in a moment, and dove under her bed to find Remus's present.
Dumbledore's head popped into Remus's chamber on Christmas morning. "Wake up! Presents and the like are in the Staff Room. Don't want to miss what I got Snape!" Remus laughed quietly to himself. Dumbledore turned into a little boy every Christmas. After talking to Harry, Remus had gotten him the perfect present. Maybe this year Albus would be happier after opening all of his presents and, apparently, finding something lacking.
Hermione's Christmas morning was interesting, to say the least. She had received the usual: books, parchment, quills, socks from Dobby, a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, sweets, and, from Ron, a pile of Quidditch-related things. "I thought you should learn more about it," was all he would say to her questioning.
Lupin didn't get anything of interest from the other staff-members. However, Dumbledore was very pleased with his present. "Woolen socks! I thought nobody would ever- How did you- Thank you so much," Dumbledore ecstatically thanked Remus, his eyes glittering with tears.
With minutes left before it was time to leave for the feast, Ron asked Hermione to talk to him "in private." Hermione grudgingly followed him into a back corner of the Common Room. "Look up," he said. Hermione caught a glimpse of green and suddenly Ron's face was millimeters from her own. She dodged to the side and he caught her cheek.
"Ronald Weasley! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"It's mistletoe."
"I know and I really don't care," Hermione's voice grew louder, so loud that it was shaking with her anger. "Explain yourself."
"You're supposed to tell people how you feel about them at Christmas and I thought that- I thought that I could give you your first kiss."
"My first what? Without even asking? Honestly, do you think that I've never kissed anyone before? What do you think Viktor and I did in the library? We weren't just studying. And while we're telling people how we feel, never do anything like that ever again, Ron, or I swear to God that you'll regret you ever met me." With that, she turned and pushed her way out of the crowd that had grown around them. As she began to open the portrait, Ginny rushed up and began to try and calm her down.
"What happened to her? I thought she liked me. She danced with me, didn't she?" Ron tried to make sense of it all, but neither he nor Harry could come up with a reason why Hermione had gotten more upset than she had ever been before.
By the time Hermione got to the Great Hall, she had calmed down considerably. However, at the first sight of Ron's red hair bobbing above the rest of the crowd entering the Great Hall, she began to shake again. [That prat. How could he even think that?]
{Is Hermione okay? I've never seen anyone that angry in my life.}Remus continued to watch her under the pretense of 'scanning' the room for any trouble. He would have continued, but Dumbledore commanded everyone's attention.
"Happy Christmas, everyone. I trust everyone received at least one good present today? Good, good. Well, I know all of you are anxious to eat, so tuck in!" Food appeared on their plates and everyone began to eat. After several minutes, Dumbledore got their attention again. "Sorry to disturb you, but it appears that there are yet more owls eager to deliver holiday greetings. Watch your heads!" Owls swooped overhead. Hermione was the only one to receive a greeting. The note read: 'My room, 8 o'clock.' Hermione glanced at the staff table with a questioning gaze. Remus caught it and gave the slightest of nods. She carefully folded the note and tucked it into her pocket.
"What was that, Hermione?" Ginny asked, ever-curious.
"Nothing important."
"Note from your secret admirer, eh? I knew whoever it was couldn't forget Christmas."
Hermione ate dinner, the earlier incident with Ron in the back of her mind. All she could think about was him. 7:30 came and Hermione excused herself. She was 'tired' and needed to get some rest. She knew that the rest of her dorm-mates would be a bit 'occupied' for the rest of the night. She freshened up, grabbed his present, and headed for his office.
Remus excused himself as well. He got to his office early and paced until she came, worrying over whether his present was good enough or not.
Hermione arrived at his door. She shrunk the present and tucked it into her pocket, next to his note. The door opened at her touch and she walked in to see him pacing. "Remus, are you alright?"
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in, I'm fine. How are you?"
"Fine, fine." A moment of awkwardness filled the room. "Er, happy Christmas, Remus!"
"Happy Christmas. I have your present."
"And I have yours. You go first."
Lupin motioned for Hermione to sit on his couch, he sat in the chair opposite it. "Accio guitar." A guitar flew in and Lupin grabbed it out of mid-air before it beaned Hermione in the head. "For your present, I found a song. It's a Muggle song, but I think it rather fits." He cleared his throat and began to sing.
"Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
I want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love more than this
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time
Come what may
Come what may
I will love you until my dying day
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you
And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time
Come what may
Come what may I will love you until my dying day"
Hermione was speechless. "Remus, that was amazing. I would give you your present but you just gave it to me."
"Thank you. But, what do you mean?"
"I mean," she enlarged the present, which turned out to be her guitar, "I was going to sing that song for you. But I guess this will have to do."
Remus began to ask what 'this' was but was cut off as Hermione's lips touched his. Her present continued on for a bit, but Hermione finally pulled away. "I meant what I said last night, Remus. I love you."
"I love you too, Hermione. But, can I ask one thing?"
"Anything."
"Why me? A woman with your brain, your talent, your you-ness, she could have anyone. Why did you pick me? I'm, what, twice your age, not that that matters, I have hardly any money, I'm not fantastic in the looks department, and I'm a werewolf. Why pick me?"
"I didn't 'pick' you, silly. I fell in love with you. There's a difference. I'm not one of those girls who goes 'Hmm, I think that this week this guy will be the love of my life'. I don't pick people. I just follow my heart. It lead me to you. You know that. You've seen proof of it," she grabbed his hand, causing the light to glow again. "What you are doesn't matter to you. Okay, you're a werewolf. But you're also the most loving, caring, smartest, kindest man I've ever met." Hermione's present continued on a bit more.
Remus was the one who pulled away this time. "Hermione, you do realize what will happen if anyone finds out? I'll get fired, I'll go to Azkaban."
"For what, loving me?"
"You're my student. You're underage. The Ministry hates werewolves. They've wanted to lock me away for a long time. This will seal it all."
"I won't tell a soul, Remus, I swear." The bell chimed. "I have to go. I'll- I'll send you a letter. I'll be Areebah, writing to Remus. You be, um, Fateen, writing to Hermione. I have to go. I love you."
"I love you." They kissed once more, but Hermione had to go. She left the room against her will to go back to the dormitory.
[{Never knew I could feel like this.. Want to vanish inside your kiss..}]
*End Chapter*
A/N: Read, review, make me happy! The upcoming celebration of the Pilgrims arriving to kill off the original dwellers of North America should give me plenty of time to write more. I'm still collecting names for an email list.
