Days later Harry invited Neville over simply because he needed a buffer between himself and Hermione. They were going Christmas tree shopping and Hermione was carrying measuring tape and a camera just to be able to make comparisons and determine the best bloody tree.

He felt he might die of boredom watching her go between twenty or so specimens for hours when he could be at home watching the next two films on his bucket list along with much-deserved bottles of butterbeer. He had after all spent the morning scrubbing the kitchen tiles and rearranging the dishes and cupboards in a way that actually made sense to a normal human being.

Teacups next to the refrigerator, such a bloody hodgepodge.

"This one!" He heard her exclaim from where she was next to a tree that was perfectly identical to the one next to it. Neville, ever the patient friend, helped her manoeuvre it and the salesman helped them load on to Hermione's father's car. They tied it to the top and drove home to Thistlewaite.

It was a curious surprise to Harry how after only a few days the place had already grown on him. Vines of purple flowers covered the brick exterior of the house and the large bay windows had pretty stained glass features. He loved that the door was a bright, glossy red. It made the large wreath Hermione decorated stand out more.

Once the three of them carried the tree inside and properly set her huge self up by the window in the parlour, to the right of the fireplace, Neville rubbed his hands together and began to say his goodbyes. Hannah was waiting for him at the Leaky so they could go shopping for last minute Christmas gifts. He and Harry exchanged pats on the back and Neville gave Hermione a parting kiss on the cheek.

After Neville apparated away, Harry looked at Hermione and she looked at him. They hadn't been alone in a room since yesterday at dinner time, when for some mysterious reason they had deemed it normal for two best friends to flirtatiously banter.

"Did you do something drastic with your hair in the past few years? What's this perfume you use? I can feel it all around the house."

"What, does it smell bad?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"No, obviously ."

"Obvious to whom?" Harry snickered, shaking his head. "You know, we can decorate the tree tomorrow."

"Yeah? And do what instead?" Hermione smiled and walked his way swaying her hips in a fashion that simply did not match up in his head with the Hermione of his childhood. Had she been abducted by aliens? Was someone feeding her love potions?

She came impossibly close to him and lay her left palm against his chest. Their faces were just an inch or two apart and Harry had no choice but to breathe in her fancy, delicious French scent and feel the soft fabric of her shirt graze against his hand.

And then, Hermione wickedly produced a deck of playing cards, an equally wicked grin on her face.

"You know I always win." He told her, eyes sparkling competitively.

"HA! But I've been practicing and you know I have the habit of aceing everything I practice."

"True, but talent trumps practice, my friend, and , you've never won me once."

The two almost raced to the dining room table where Hermione shuffled the cards with her wand. Harry kept a watchful eye in case she attempted to cheat. They both knew it wasn't in her character though, but didn't care at all if they were acting like silly children.

"How's your little book going, Granger?"

"How does losing feel like, Potter?" She retorted, with a devilish grin. When she flipped over her many cards to reveal a perfect Royal Canasta, Harry knew it was over for him.

" Fucking hell. " He muttered, looking at her in disbelief.

"A cat it is then." Harry grumbled.

Had he won the game they'd get a pet dog instead.