It turns out that living with Hermione Granger means waking up to a to-do list tacked to your door and charmed to follow you and reintegrate itself whenever you try to rip it up in pieces and toss it in the bin.

After nearly two hours of failed attempts to dodge and destroy it, Harry found himself begrudgingly climbing the steps to the attic in order to retrieve the dusty boxes with Christmas decorations. Needless to say, his Auror pride was brutally shattered and Hermione was truly the mistress of evil like Ron had said.

The attic, despite the dust and the bloody horrible cold draft was quite the object of interest. There was antique furniture like dressing tables, and stuffed monkeys and dogs with shiny glass eyes. Deep red velvet curtains with rich gold trim were haphazardly thrown to a corner next to what he recognized as Hermione's old school trunk and an assortment of porcelain jars, some lidded. Curious as ever, Harry raised the lid of one of the jars only to be horrified to find several teeth.

He let go of the lid, which clattered against the other jars and broke into several little pieces.

He grabbed the three boxes with Christmas written on them and hastily carried them down, finding Hermione's attic easily scarier than even Snape's goddamn dungeon.

"Hermione!" He shouted, outside the double French doors leading to her room-he-should-not-enter-under-risk-of-being-AK'd. He knocked on them almost frantically. "Hermione, what the fuck were those teeth in that jar upstairs?"

Seconds later her head popped out of the door and he could see her rolling her eyes at him.

"Harry, my parents were dentists. They liked keeping souvenirs from their more challenging cases."

"That's just disgusting."

Hermione shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"It's almost nine, have you taken the rubbish out, yet?" She asked him.

"I'm on holiday, 'Mione."

"And I'm at my wits' end, Harry."

He looked at her face with that part-annoyed, part-haughty expression of hers and suddenly felt an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. The way she parted her curly hair to the side today, and the way the ivory sweater-vest somehow brought out her more physical attributes wasn't lost on him. Harry found himself gulping as soon as he realized blood had rushed to his groin area and his heart was pounding like he was utterly besotted.

" I'd take your wits away any day… "

When her eyes widened and her lips arched downwards he realized the giant idiocy of words had actually escaped his mouth.

" Umm , better just drop these downstairs, yeah? Don't want to be late putting out the rubbish.

He all but ran for his life. Hermione was left standing there at the threshold in utter disbelief.

Later that evening when it was already dark and the soup wasn't yet bubbling in the pan, Hermione slipped on a thick wool sweater and put on a scarf. Harry was out hanging the Christmas lights the muggle way because the neighborhood was muggle and he wasn't at all in the mood to deal with the repercussions of being seen with his wand. Plus, the extra work was good, anything to take Hermione and her sexy witch looks out of his head.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, eh, Harry?" She asked him, startling him in a way that almost made him lose his balance on top of the ladder.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. Kill me already, will you?"

She laughed then, her hands buried deep in her pockets, cheeks turning red.

"Come on, soup's ready, time for dinner." He was about to inform her that he still had an entire side of the house to deck in lights when she did the job herself by flicking her wand. The antique enlarged bulbs glowed in shades of red, yellow, green and blue. "If you're lucky enough I'll even let you give me a foot rub."

Harry climbed down the ladder and closed it, carrying it back inside to store in the pantry off the kitchen.

"Did France turn you into such a tease? I don't remember you being so funny." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

Hermione chuckled as she followed right behind him.

"On the up side, it seems all is better with Harry Jr ." She hit his arm playfully, smiling in delight as his cheeks and ears turned a bright red. "Don't worry Harry, France has made me a much more experienced witch."