Chapter 22

"Baby just be mine, a kinda-sorta Christmas Valentine
You're making every day with you and I
Feel like a very merry February, baby just be mine
Just say you'll be my Christmas Valentine
I wanna make every day a holiday with you."
Song - Christmas Valentine, by Ingrid Michaelson and Jason Mraz

22 December 2005

Harry

"So…"

"So, what?" Harry challenged, staring at the immense length of glass counters, the crowds thinner in this room. His stomach was still turning due to their ill-advised trip over on the Knight Bus, but Hermione was wearing heels and hadn't wanted to walk, and the London streets were too crowded this close to Christmas to Apparate in broad daylight. But now they were here, on solid ground, and he was about to do the one thing he hated above all others.

Shopping.

"Harry," Hermione said, the exasperation clear in her tone. "You pulled me out of work — where I was working on the closing paperwork on your case, mind you — and insisted I come with you to Harrod's, of all places. And now we're here looking at the Jewelry counter, and I think I'm owed an explanation."

"I need a gift and don't know what I'm doing. I needed you."

A slow, knowing smile turned the corners of her mouth. "A gift for Draco, I presume."

"Of course, a gift for Draco. Who else would drive me to a place like this only days before Christmas."

Hermione took Harry's arm and tugged him out of the way of several young women, their fancy handbags and scarves making Harry feel dreadfully out of place. "And you're just now shopping?"

Harry scowled. "No. I'll have you know that I bought him a new pair of boots weeks ago. They're dragonhide and comfortable, and I think he'll love them."

"So we're here because…"

Harry closed his eyes and remembered the evening before. "You were there, Hermione. He did all that. For me. He researched and planned and put together something that was a part of my family, and a part of his, and he made me feel like I had traditions."

"Oh, Harry," she said quietly, taking his hand and squeezing.

He held on, letting her anchor him. "And not just yesterday." He turned to her, eyes open now, needing to make her understand. "I feel like he's made it his mission this month to ensure I had the best Christmas ever. And I have. I feel like I've had a hundred Christmases all rolled into one, and he did that for me. He hasn't said anything about it, he hasn't asked for thanks or gloated or given me that knowing smirk that I just want to kiss off his mouth."

He smiled at her low chuckle.

"I want to get him something special. Something that shows him that I know him, that I understand and appreciate what he did. And he says he likes emeralds."

She snorted out loud at that, drawing the attention of several of the clerks. "Right, well, there will certainly be something here. Since we're shopping for men's jewellery, it'll slim down our options."

"Thank Merlin, because this place is intimidating."

"Let's start here."

And so they did, beginning with a couple of designers Harry had at least heard of — Cartier and Tiffany & Co — and browsing through several other completely foreign to him. As if they weren't all foreign to him, but the first ones he vaguely remembered from movies.

There were dozens of items he considered, but nothing was catching his eye; nothing screamed Draco's style or aesthetic, so they continued on, poring over glass cabinets and speaking with posh sales clerks.

It was while they were waiting at the Rolex counter that Hermione brought up the case. "We should be able to get community service and probation for each of them. They confessed and are willing to work along more legal paths to continue their philanthropy."

Harry let out a little snort. "Philanthropy. They were breaking into people's homes and got caught on camera."

"But they were helping the people, not stealing. Not a single person who was affected wants to press charges, so while we have them on breaking the Statute, that's the extent. It's their first offence, and although it's an egregious one, I think it's appropriate."

"I agree, actually, but they really need to be redirected."

She nodded. "I'm working with them to set up something similar to the Muggle Christmas donation boxes for children."

Harry smile, considering what the kids were trying to do. "I liked that they were helping in more than just gifts."

"Me too."

"What about something like a handyman service, but free or low-charge for those who are struggling? And we can teach them how to be more discreet when they use their magic if the family isn't magical."

"They'd need a way to subsidise that."

Harry thought about the funds in the Black family vault he'd barely touched, mostly using the Potter vaults and his own monthly income for everything he needed or wanted. The Black Vaults had funded the refurbishing of Grimmauld Place, true, and Harry occasionally used them to donate to various charities, but the annual interest income was more than he'd actually even spent.

"I think we can make that happen."

Hermione grinned, then her eyes widened when the clerk came back with the tray of watches she and Harry had requested.

"Sir, I've brought you several that may meet your needs. These three here are in the price range you suggested, and as you can see, they are quite elegant."

But Harry's eyes weren't on any of those. They were nice, sure. But the one on the end was the one. Harry couldn't take his eyes off it.

"That one," he said, pointing. "Tell me about it?"

"Harry," Hermione whispered, properly awed.

"Very good eye, sir. This is the Day-Date, one of our most classic lines. You said he enjoyed emeralds, and while this one does not have emeralds, the olive green dial is most attractive."

Harry nodded. "He'd like that one."

The clerk turned over the card displaying the price, but Harry hardly paid it any attention. Wasn't he just thinking about the money in the Black vaults? If he couldn't spend inordinate amounts of money on his lover, who was a Black, by birth, then what was he doing with it? Other than funding charities for Hufflepuffs, of course.

"Harry, surely Draco doesn't expect—"

"No, he doesn't. Just like I didn't expect what he did for me." He laid his hand over hers and smiled at the clerk. "Can you gift wrap it for me?"

"Certainly, sir." And as the man walked away, all Harry could think about what that watch on Draco's wrist. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was entirely Draco.

"Fine," Hermione said, a little smile replacing the earlier shock. "But he'll need to take it to the Jewellers' in Diagon to get some Protective Spells placed on it. With all his potions' work, the last thing he'll want is something ruining it."

"Do you think I—"

"No! Let him do it so he can tell them what to protect against. Merlin, Harry, you've already spent enough on this thing. I can't even say it out loud. It's obscene and over the top."

Harry smirked. "Just like Draco."

She threw her head back and laughed, ignoring the looks of the other shoppers around them. Harry handed his credit card to the clerk and pulled Hermione in for a hug. "Thank you."

"Of course. And don't worry, I won't breathe a word of this to Ron."

Harry groaned. "Yes, please don't."

The clerk returned several minutes later with the wrapped watch, the paper a beautiful silver with green ribbon.

"Even the wrapping is perfect," Harry said, grinning, slipping the gift into his deep pocket and escaping with Hermione from that hellish store.

"Wait, I thought we'd get tea! You promised me tea!"

"I lied. I'll make you tea at home. I'll buy it somewhere else. Hell, I'll go pick you some leaves and brew it from the dew in the Forbidden forest, but please don't make me go back in there."

Hermione squeezed his hand and let him drag her down the street.


A/N: Holy cow, 3 more days! We're almost there, which means this part of the story is almost over. Don't forget that there are another 19 fics in this universe that you can find on my author profile.