Day Twenty-Five: Christmas

I may not always love you

But long as there are stars above you

You never need to doubt it

I'll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I'd be without you

Harry woke up alone to the sound of music drifting into the bedroom, it was still dark outside. A little concerned and not particularly interested in staying in bed alone, he stumbled into his discarded boxers and followed the sound of the vaguely familiar song in search of Hermione.

He found her in her living room humming and swaying to the music as she rearranged the books on her bookshelves. It was something he knew that she did every so often when her collection had grown significantly, or she just felt like she'd found a better way to organize it. He also knew that she usually saved this particular task for when she was upset and needed something to distract her because it wasn't mindless like most housework.

But the idea that she was upset was at odds with her humming and the contented smile on her face.

"Hermione?"

She started and turned to look at him, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that it was him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, are you alright?"

She put the stack of books she was holding aside and made her way over to him. "I'm fine."

He looked at her dubiously. "You just felt a sudden need to redecorate so early in the morning that it's practically the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep any longer and I didn't want to wake you up," she laid a hand on his forearm and smiled, "despite the fact that we've spent a lot of time in bed this week, we haven't actually gotten that much sleep."

He took her hands and pulled her against him. "I know, so why aren't you tired?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, "I think I might be on something like a sugar high of happiness." She let out a little snort and covered her mouth. "I mean, Merlin, Harry, I'm saying sugary sweet things like that."

"I'll take it."

She began to pull on his arms and into a dancing stance, the same way they'd spent holding each other for hours last night. He followed her lead, moving in time to the music.

"What is this we're listening to?"

"It's the soundtrack to 'Love Actually,' I bought it while you were away last week."

"Oh, I guess that explains why this sounds kind of familiar."

"Ah, so some of that film did sink in," she snickered.

"Shut up, it's not my fault that you're so distracting."

"I'm glad," she nipped at his jaw, "you are too. Do you think it'll ever stop being like this?"

"What do you mean? Like what?"

"This intensity," she went up on her toes and kissed him to demonstrate her point. "I know, intellectually, that we're probably in a honeymoon period right now, and that it probably won't be quite so much," she clutched at her shirt over her heart.. "But also, this song is resonating with me in a way it never has before, and so I wonder if maybe this is just the way i'm going to feel from now on."

He just looked at her curiously, urging her to go on.

"'You never need to doubt it. I'll make you so sure about it,'" she sang the song back to him. "'I'll make you so sure about it,'" she repeated in a whisper. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I don't know?"

She sighed. "What I said yesterday, when I said that sometimes my love for you feels like more than my body can contain. When I told your parents that you were so loved, and that you always will be, I can't express how much I meant that. I've been struggling for days, because I so want to be able to express it properly, but I just…do you know how frustrating it is for me to not be able to explain something?" She asked, beginning to sound a little frantic. "To feel it as deeply as I feel this and not be able so say it out loud, for words to fail me so completely? I don't doubt that your love is as deep as mine, but I still long to be able to show you, to, I don't know, prove it. My heart longs to make you sure about it. I've quoted books to you, and now song lyrics and it's not nearly enough-"

She had worked herself into a near panic, he could feel it thrumming between them, so cut her off with a kiss. "I know what you mean," he breathed between kisses, "I know what you mean. Don't fret sweetheart."

Despite her distress over not having the words, he thought she'd expressed herself eloquently. Ironically, her ineloquece, the gaps between words, her clear struggle to explain, actually spoke volumes and had done exactly what she was so convinced she was failing to do.

He had heard it said that love consumes you, as if it takes something from you. But really it fills you up, and he was so full of her he sometimes thought that he would burst as well. He had understood exactly what she meant when she said she felt like it was more than she could contain.

He understood now the drive for physical connection, beyond pleasure, and why they called it making love. He wanted to show her too, to try over and over until they got it perfect. If they never did they could just keep trying, and if they did, well, who wouldn't want to experience perfection over and over?

He knew they would have to learn to manage the intensity of it all, because they couldn't spend every week like they had this one, constantly in each other's company. They had full lives. Lives they'd fought hard for, he didn't want her to give a single part of that up. He loved her too much to hold her back and hoard her for himself, even if she would allow it. And she wouldn't be the woman that he loved if she did.

But what he could do was relish every moment.

"Come back to bed with me, let me show you," he requested roughly.

She nodded and he took her hand and they practically sprinted to the bedroom.

The quiet comfort of the Grangers' home on Christmas was unlike any other Christmas he had ever experienced. He had good memories at Hogwarts and the Burrow both, but they were loud and chaotic, and the festivities almost required a day of rest afterwards to recover. This was peaceful in and of itself.

The shift in Hermione's parents' behavior over just the course of a couple of weeks was fairly astounding, and all but confirmed what Harry had long suspected: they had been donning masks in his presence. He hadn't understood why until recently, but he knew a facade when he saw one. He believed that Helen had truly meant her Christmas invitation, and that he was welcome in their home but he was pleasantly surprised by how easily he seemed to slot into the family dynamics.

The atmosphere was casual though Hermione had worn a dress, she'd explained to him that was only to make things a little bit special and assured him that the festivities themselves would be low-key. When they gathered to open presents they didn't rip into them all at once, nor did they exactly take turns. Each person moved at their own pace, taking time to admire what the others had received, but also not making a big show of it. Harry was reminded of Hermione's assertion that she didn't like to be watched opening presents.

She saved his for last, as he saved hers. And he was more nervous about the gift she was holding in her hands than he had been when he had given her the Advent calendar twenty-five days ago. He would not have thought that possible last month, in fact he would have said that her Christmas present was one of the best he'd ever come up with. But that was before she was his girlfriend.

"You look nervous," she observed.

He heard Richard and Helen grow quiet across the room but he ignored them and simply shrugged. "I hope you like it."

"I will Harry," there was no doubt in her assertion.

She tore into the package, he'd wrapped this one himself just as he had the Advent calendar. But in this case it was because he wouldn't have trusted anybody else with it. She removed the lid from the box and froze.

"It has a preservation charm on it, you can handle it," he told her.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God," she looked down at the box and back up at him, "oh my God, how did you do this?!"

"I know somebody. I asked the right questions," he shrugged again but he couldn't help but smirk a little at her astonished expression and the way her voice had gone all high pitched.

Hermione removed the book from the packaging and just held it in her hands.

"Well, we can see that it's a book, but would one of you mind explaining why Hermione is looking at it like it's the holy grail?" Helen asked cautiously.

"Because it basically is the holy grail. Or, actually, more like the Rosetta stone. This is basically an Elvish language primer," Hermione answered, never taking her eyes off of the book.

"I don't understand."

Hermione finally looked up and licked her lips, clearly preparing to impart her knowledge; Harry had once been wary of this particular expression, but he'd grown to love it.

"There was a time when races of elves lived much more openly and in harmony with humans," she began, looking at her parents. "Obviously they had their own languages and cultures. Just like you might want to learn a foreign language, some humans learned various elvish dialects."

"Okay, so this is one of the books that would teach you I assume?" Helen asked.

Hermione nodded.

"There must be more to it than that. You wouldn't be practically in raptures over something you could buy at Flourish and Blotts," she insisted.

Hermione smiled. "Long, sad story short, over the millenia relations devolved, there was a pestilence, much like the bubonic plague but centuries earlier, but that elves were especially susceptible to. Most of the races retreated to their own enclaves, what we now know as the house elves were bound to humans to save their magic, it was only meant to be a temporary measure," she shook her head sadly. "This," she stroked the book reverently, "knowledge was all but lost." She set the book aside and threw her arms around Harry. "I'm afraid to ask what you had to do to get this."

He kissed her cheek and pulled back so that he could look at her as he spoke. "Honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. I met a wizard on one of my goodwill missions at the beginning of the year. I didn't know it at the time but he has high elf ancestry. Anyway, he got my attention mostly because he didn't really care about me at all, but he was very interested in you."

She raised her eyebrows.

'Yeah, at first I was alarmed, but I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn't a blood purist in sheep's clothing and that he actually admired what he'd heard about your work, specifically your lobbying for house elf rights. You're a rare witch, especially in Britain but you know that. He wanted the perspective of somebody who actually knew you." He shrugged sheepishly. "It's really not that hard to convince me to talk about you, and once he started revealing more about himself that's when I started asking him questions, because I thought he might have access to resources that would interest you."

"Well you thought right."

"I'm sorry," Richard interrupted. "You said something about a goodwill mission. What is that?"

He sighed.

Hermione looked at him. "Would you like me to explain?"

He just nodded.

"It's basically exactly how it sounds," she began. "Occasionally, Harry travels abroad or takes meetings here with the officials of other governments. He hates it because it's basically just trotting out the war hero to make them feel special. But it works, it's helped start dialogues with countries we've traditionally been at odds with, and people are willing to listen to Harry about topics that have previously been considered taboo. So he does it, because it does a lot of good." She took his hand and squeezed, looking at him with a mixture of pride and love in her eyes.

Both of her parents looked a little taken aback, but they nodded. He imagined they were learning a lot this morning about the extent of his, and to a lesser extent, Hermione's influence and fame in their world. Hermione had gifted them a muggle framed print of the photograph of him and Hermione taken at the Yule Gala. They'd seemed to really like it, but couldn't hide their shock when Hermione pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet that had the wizarding version of the photo on the front page.

"That sounds very honorable, Harry," Helen said quietly.

"Thank you, some good should come out of being me."

Hermione cut her eyes at him and shook her head, but thankfully didn't comment. "So, you got this from that man," she asked, effectively shifting the topic back to the book.

He nearly sighed in relief. "His name is Claude Dubois, It's from his personal collection. And before you can worry, while I insisted on paying for it, he was very fair. He just doesn't want this knowledge to be lost and he thinks curious minds like yours should be encouraged. He'd like to meet you, but obviously I didn't make any promises."

"I think that sounds very interesting- wait. Claude Dubois, that's a French name."

His lips twitched. "It is."

"Is this why you went to Paris without telling me?"

"Yes, I had actually hoped to have this for you for your birthday, but Claude is very eccentric and he went on some kind of three month research trip at the end of the summer and forgot to tell me. He contacted me when he got home and I went to Paris last month to meet him. I didn't tell you because I knew that if you knew I'd be to Paris, you'd have a million questions and I'm pants at lying to you."

"Harry," she shook her head. "Thank you, but why were you nervous about giving me this? Surely you knew that I would love it."

"It's a book," he explained simply.

She frowned in confusion. "And?"

"Everybody gives you books."

Her mouth formed a little 'oh,' of comprehension and she took his hand. "That only bothers me coming from people who think the only thing I like are books. I know you don't think that, and it's not like you just picked out something from the window display at Flourish and Blotts. This is amazing. Truly, thank you."

"I'm happy you like it."

She nodded towards the flat box sitting next to him. "Open mine now."

He nodded and picked it up, again surprised by how light it was, just as he had been when Hermione had first handed it to him. He unwrapped it carefully, it had been folded so precisely, it just didn't seem like the kind of gift you ripped into. Then he opened the lid of the box and saw a single piece of paper sitting inside. Not cheap, everyday paper, nor the parchment that was so commonplace in the magical world, but a thick cardstock.

He picked it up and read it. Most of it had obviously been printed by a machine, but several places had been handwritten. It appeared to be some kind of gift certificate but the language was very formal, almost legal.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?" He looked at Hermione.

She bit her lip. "I've commissioned a portrait for you."

"What?" He asked incredulously, almost choking on the word.

"Not a portrait of you!" She added quickly. "You would hate that. "

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Of your parents. Or, at least that was my intention. You can choose another subject. It's just that you have so few pictures of them, especially together. And they would have had a portrait painted eventually, had they lived," she said quietly. "This artist can make a painting of a photograph, or you can give him several and he will sort of extrapolate a new one. He's a muggle artist because I know you aren't fond of magical portraits, but we can temporarily charm the pictures so that they don't move, so that's not a concern. I just thought it might be nice for you to have something like that to display in Grimmauld. Something bigger and a little more formal than a snapshot…" she trailed off looking as uncertain as he'd ever seen her.

Harry stared at her.

"Is it a terrible idea? If you hate it, I can take it back and use it to have Crookshanks painted."

Harry couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. "Crookshanks!" He wheezed, "that cat has tried to scalp me at least once a day, every day this week and you want to have a portrait made of him?!"

She puffed up indignantly. "He thinks he's protecting me! And he's my first child, I should have a portrait made of him."

Harry laughed harder. "Protecting you, sure that's what he's doing," he muttered to himself.

"Does this mean we shouldn't be hoping for any human grandchildren in the near future," Helen said, sounding so much like Hermione when she was attempting to stir the cauldron over an issue that it was eerie.

Harry shut up immediately and looked at the Grangers. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see that Hermione was doing the same.

"Mum!" Hermione squeaked.

Helen just shrugged, utterly apologetic. Richard looked some combination of amused and horrified, if that was possible.

"I'm just trying to manage my expectations, Darling," Helen said.

Hermione covered her face with her hands and groaned. Harry gave her a minute before reaching over and taking one, prying it away from her face, basically forcing her to look at him. He winked and, almost immediately, she relaxed.

"Thank you for my gift," he said, trying to divert the conversation for her as she had done for him earlier. "It's an awesome idea, and I never would have thought of it myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he gave her a quick kiss.

Hermione turned back to her parents. "Stay out of the business of my uterus, Mother, or you might not get any grandchildren at all," she snapped, pointing her finger at them.

Helen just shrugged, obviously unconcerned about her daughter's exaggerated ire. "I'm pretty sure the only one I have to convince is Harry. And I don't think he'd be a hard sell at all." She grinned at them impishly and jumped out of her seat. "I have to go check on the ham," she declared and left the room without looking back.

Hermione glanced at him and rolled her eyes; he laughed.

Several hours later Christmas dinner had been eaten, the kitchen cleaned in a group effort, and the foursome were back in the Grangers living room watching a Christmas movie. Well, there was a Christmas movie , Helen was reading, Richard had dozed off in an armchair, and Harry and Hermione were stretched out on the sofa. She was sitting between his legs, propped up on his chest.

"It's been a nice day, don't you think?" She asked, and he could tell that she was fighting to stay awake.

"It's been great," he agreed, rubbing her back soothingly. "More than I ever could have asked for."

The truth was, Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so at peace. He never would have been able to imagine it for himself, and if he had, he never would have had the courage to go after it.

He glanced down at the woman on his chest and realized that it was never his own courage that he'd needed anyway. It was her, just her; from the time she was only a little girl who told him that he was a great wizard, to the beautiful grown witch who'd stood beside him this Advent and faced down the boggarts of his childhood.

He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. "Happy Christmas, Sweetheart."

She snuggled against him with a happy sigh. "Happy Christmas, Harry. I love you."

God only knows what I'd be without you

Author's Note:Merry Christmas! Wow, I'm more than a little emotional right now. First, I just want to clarify that this is the final chapter. You can consider this story complete, as bittersweet as that is to me. However, I am considering an epilogue. I've been going back and forth about that all month. So what do you think? If I do, it will be a New Year's thing. Let me know!

Second, and most importantly. THANK YOU. Every single one of you. I first conceived of this story on November 27th. I knew what I was considering doing was crazy, but the idea just wouldn't let me go. And I'm happy it wouldn't. But I'm not sure that I would have had the energy to get to this point without y'all. The love and support that have been heaped on this little fic was more than I ever could have asked for and I can't thank you enough!

If you want to see pictures of all the Advent calendar gifts, check me out on Pinterest. I'm RiverWriter there too, and the board is the name of this story. I'd love to hear from you even if all you want to do is say 'hi.' Or if you have questions about this or my other writing, don't hesitate to comment on this story, or reach out to me on Tumblr. Thank you, thank you, thank you, have a happy and safe rest of the holiday season!