December 28, 1936

It was only four in the afternoon and the sun was already setting on downtown London as it painted the town in orange and the sky a mix of purple and pink. Both Tom and Hermione were in her room. He sat on her stiff mattress that creaked and shrieked with every movement as the girl with brown frizzy curls went into her closet and took out a jacket to throw on.

"Why are you going into town? There's nothing special about it," Tom stated in a snappy, bitter tone.

"Well, I've never seen it before. It's probably pretty with all the snow and Christmas lights still up," she said as she buttoned herself up and struggled with her oversize mittens.

Christmas had just passed and the orphanage celebrated as best it could with what little it had. Many donated a few pounds here and there but you would see more money from a single man donating to his church on a Sunday morning. Still, they were an orphanage and they would take what they could. Mrs. Cole spent a little more on their dinner which included a whole rotisserie chicken that would last them a few days and the bones left over would be used to make a broth. There were no gift exchange except for the old toys already there that Mrs. Cole would wrap up and distribute only to have the children exchange them with one another. Hermione got a broken tracker missing three of its four wheels while Tom got a box of broken crayons. Both left their so-called gift on the floor of the den where another child would play with them later.

"Snow is just cold, frozen water and it's probably not even that pretty after people trampled in it and Christmas lights are just tiny light bulbs. What is so great about it that you want to make a whole journey to see it?"

Hermione smiled as she could hear him try to talk her out of going on her trip. Tom scowled into his book as his eyes skimmed through its bland words. Junk.

Her smile melted off when he kept looking at his book at if to avoid eye contact. She asked, "Are you mad at me?"

The question stung like rubbing alcohol to a fresh wound. Tom turned his head to the tiny girl in the dark hooded peacoat and rainbow mitten. She watched him with her doe eyes that told him she was genuinely curious to if he was upset with her. He wasn't, of course. It wasn't her fault the situation was what it was. Hermione tucked her chin a micro inch in as if she was trying to hide within herself like a turtle, ready to take cover from Tom's wrath of anger and feelings of injustice.

"I'm not mad at you," he assured her, "I just don't like that that old, wrinkly bag of bugs isn't letting me go too. It's not fair."

"Sorry."

He sighed heavily to show his annoyance and placed his book on her bed as it was doing little to hold his interest. Just another stupid children book with pictures and letters the size of his hand as if the writers believed blind children were reading their trash.

Hermione walked over and jumped on her bed, the sudden weight caused it to shift violently as the two seesawed. She giggled at Tom's surprised face as he was momentarily lifted into the air before the metal springs evened out from under them.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I wish you could come too."

"It isn't your fault so stop apologizing all the time," he snapped a bit too harsh.

Hermione was about to open her mouth to apologize again but the matron's voice rung from below.

"Hermione, dear! Are you ready?"

"Coming!" she yelled back from her room. She turned to Tom and whispered, "I gotta go."

He grabbed her hand and led her out the door. Hermione felt bad that Tom couldn't come. She knew he was angry but she had another motive for going out today: she wanted to get him a present for his birthday.

It was three days before New Year's Eve and Hermione had asked Mrs. Cole if she could take her into town to go buy something for Tom while the matron ran errands. As much as Mrs. Cole didn't like Tom, she loved and adored Hermione and the girl never asked for anything from the matron since her arrival in the spring. It was still a wonder why she hadn't been adopted yet. The rejected adults would say Hermione didn't want to leave but the matron suspected Tom had something to do with it. She just didn't know what.

Hermione finally came down the stairs in the thick peacoat that was donated to the orphanage recently for Christmas. It was a little big for her but it would shield her from the harsh December cold. Hermione trailed behind Tom like a little duckling as they walked hand in mitten hand.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Mrs. Cole. I'm ready now," Hermione said slightly out of breath. They may have been a year apart but Tom was considerably taller than most kids his age and with Hermione's short stature, she often had to power walk to keep up with his normal pace. She looked up to the old woman with excitement flooding her brown eyes.

"Very good" the matron said. "Shall we go?"

She held out her hand and Hermione took it with her small mitten one. She turned to Tom and whispered something Mrs. Cole couldn't hear. He looked angry but he reluctantly let go of Hermione's hand and took a step back. Hermione tugged on Mrs. Cole's hand as a cue for them to leave while Tom was still allowing her to go. The two walked out and Hermione waved to Tom before disappearing from his sight.

Tom stood on the other side of the recently closed double wooden doors. With Hermione gone now, he instantly felt bored. He ran a hand through his black hair and huffed in anger as he messed up his perfectly combed head. Why couldn't he go into town too? What, did Mrs. Cole think he was going to run off? Ridiculous. He wouldn't have anywhere to go.

Maybe when I'm older, he thought.

"Tom?" called an older girl Mrs. Cole hired to help take care of the orphanage. She had short brown hair in the cut of a bob with a few curls at the tips to flatter her face. Tom couldn't remember her name. Jenny? Jill? Julia? Something with a J sounded right but the name never made it to his tongue. How could it when he never made the effort to put it in his brain?

The older girl shifted nervously in place as Tom just stared in silence. He turned and curtly walked back up to Hermione's room without a word leaving the young caretaker to find another child to bother. Tom picked up his book and returned to his room where he continued where he left off in his boring book. Perhaps by the time he finishes Hermione would be back.

After a few minutes of mindless reading, he shivered and threw a large rag which Mrs. Cole stupidly deemed to be a blanket, over his body but it did little to protect him from the chilly draft. After half an hour of endless shivering, Tom had enough of hearing his teeth clatter in his ears. He moved his way down to the den where Amy was sitting in his old chair by the fireplace with a stuffed bunny doll in her lap as she made it dance back and forth. Without having to make his presence known, the girl looked up, surprised to see Tom standing in the doorway as he glared at her. The scared little girl couldn't remember the last time she saw Tom in the den as he was usually off with Hermione somewhere uncharted but from the look on his face and his frizzy haired friend gone, it was undeniable Tom was ready to reclaim his spot in the den.

She instantly shot off the chair like a rocket and flew out of the room to a group of girls in the corner playing with their dolls. He smirked and took his place on his throne as he sunk into the soft cushion.

Much better.

The roaring fire provided a comforting heat that radiated over his entire self. A sigh expelled passed his lips as he soaked into the blissful nostalgic feeling of his chair where he would comfortably wait for Hermione to return.

Hermione sat patiently on a cold bench by a large shop window as she waited for her chaperon to finish catching up with a group of old women they ran into as Hermione continue to lose feeling in her bum. The two had been running errands for a few hours and Hermione had no luck with finding a gift for Tom. She received two pieces of candy from the grocer but that was it and it hardly made a gift.

She ran her fingers over a row of warm Christmas lights that wrapped themselves up a gutter next to her, enjoying the small amount of heat they emitted and listened to pieces of the adult's conversation as the group of women giggled and discussed about the current hot gossip buzzing through the town's ears.

"Did you hear Rony eloped and-"

"That's nothing. Karen was found is Eric's room when Penny-"

"I heard the owner of the small restaurant down the street-"

"Such a shame."

"Unbelievable."

Hermione didn't know what the topic of the conversation was as names were toss left and right. What did elope mean? What did Karen, whoever she was, find in whose room? There was a restaurant down the street?

The small girl found the adult conversation too complicated to follow and decided to tune them out. She turned her attention to keeping herself busy as she swung her legs in midair and glanced up to the dark sky littered with twinkling stars.

The conversation took another turn as the women seemed to start discussing their plans for New Year's and Hermione inwardly groan at the thought of living the rest of her life on that cold bench. A freezing breeze carrying the town's odor flew through the female group sending shivers down their spines and eliciting a chorus of teeth clattering.

"Emily, poor Hermione is a popsicle! You best get her back to the orphanage," a woman with blonde hair told the matron.

All the women turned to look at the orphan and Hermione shifted uncomfortably under their stares. They all smiled kindly when one asked,

"So Hermione, what are you doing for New Year's?" as if trying to create an opportunity for the girl to contribute to their adult conversation. "Any boys?"

"Oh hush Tina. Hermione is much too young to think about things like that," her chaperon chastised.

"Don't be silly," the woman replied. She looked back at Hermione with a wicked smile. With her bright eyes, dark hair and that smile of hers, the woman reminded Hermione of Tom.

"I-I have a friend name Tom." Any signs of a smile surfacing to Hermione's face after her proud fact was quickly drowned when she saw Mrs. Cole grimace.

The woman grinned nonetheless. "I thought so. A cute girl like yourself- it's no surprise really." Hermione blushed shyly at the compliment.

"Hermione asked me to take her out so that she could buy Tom a birthday present," Mrs. Cole explained and informed the birthday was on New Year's Eve when another woman questioned. They all turned their attention toward the girl on the bench as if her life was the hottest news to reach their ears.

"Have you found anything, darling?" Hermione shook her head and looked down to her dangling feet. "Well that's alright, just give him a kiss."

Hermione's head snapped up faster than a mouse trap at the suggestion. Many of the other adults hollered an uproar while the rest just laughed.

"Linda, don't put such thoughts into the girl's head. For goodness sake she is just nine years old."

The woman named Linda chuckled and lowered herself to eye level with Hermione. "Is this Tom a good boy?"

Hermione nodded rapidly with a goofy grin. "He's my best friend. We read together and play together and our rooms are right next to each other. Not to mention he's really smart and nice. And, and," Hermione said hurriedly as she was getting more excited talking about how wonderful her friend was, "he protects me when the other kids pick on me."

"Well he sounds like a fantastic little gentleman, doesn't he ladies?" The herd of women nodded, all except Mrs. Cole, of course. "Let me give you some advice, Hermione, woman to woman." The two inched in slower as if sharing a secret. "His birthday is on New Year's Eve, right? Well, if your cute self isn't already fast asleep, you should stay up with Tom and at the stroke of midnight give him a kiss. Just a peck on the cheek will do," she added when Hermione's eyes widened innocently. "You see it's tradition to kiss a boy at the stroke of midnight on New Year's. It shows how close you two are but you can't do this with any boy. No, no, no. You can only kiss a boy if you really like him. He has to be extremely important, maybe even someone you want to spend your life with."

"I always want to be with Tom. He's my best friend," her innocent response caused a smile to cross on Linda's face as the older woman knew Hermione wasn't quite understanding.

"Good. A kiss at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Day will ensure that both of you will have a year full of luck and happiness together. It's like magic."

Hermione cringed a bit at the word. The last time she cast "magic", Billy and his dogs woke up with a room full of cob webs and spiders. She stuttered at the memory but to everyone else, it just looked like she was cold. But maybe this was different. The woman did say it would bring Tom and her a year full of happiness. Maybe the kiss at midnight will bring lots of books and put up an invisible barrier to keep her orphan bullies at bay. That would be a splendid year indeed.

The girl's eyes sparkled like diamonds until Mrs. Cole cleared her throat.

"Alright, that's enough out of you Linda. I think you have had one too many drinks."

"What? Preposterous!" she denied but got to her feet anyways.

Hermione and the matron bid the group of ladies goodnight as both parties parted ways. They walked down the street and turned two corners until they were standing on a busy street full of people.

"Shall we go home, Hermione?"

Hermione wanted to shake her head and continue on with her quest to find the perfect gift but she knew the matron had bigger priorities she had to take care of and so the disappointed girl only nodded. Mrs. Cole could see that Hermione didn't want to leave but she wasn't about to argue.

They began to walk down the street and as if it appeared out of nowhere, Hermione spotted a bookstore. Had it always been there? She tugged Mrs. Cole's hand gently and she looked down on the girl with her eyebrows raised.

"Um... can we go into that store before we leave?" Hermione asked in her high-pitched voice while putting on her pleading eyes like Tom had done so many times to her over the months. She pointed to the store and the old woman looked over. It was an old bookstore with chip and faded paint and Mrs. Cole knew the shop owner. The matron nodded and they made their way over. It was the least she could do after making Hermione wait while she talked with her former classmates and the stop could give them a chance to warm up.

There was a bell that rang when the door opened and a voice greeted them immediately after.

"Hello, how can I- Ah, Mrs. Cole. What brings you here?" a male voice asked. He was standing behind a counter that was too tall for Hermione to see over. Actually, she was a good couple of inches short from reaching the counter top.

"Hello, Charlie. We came here to look around for a present." Mrs. Cole replied.

"We?"

Mrs. Cole pointed down to Hermione and a man's face appeared from above her. He looks younger than David, she noted. His hair was a shade lighter than Hermione's and was a bit shaggy. Probably a hairstyle for the harsh cold.

"Hermione, this is Charlie, a dear friend of mine." Hermione waved and squeaked out a hello. "Charlie, this is one of my children from the orphanage, Hermione Granger."

"Granger?" The man looked at Hermione with wide eyes, his facial expression told her that he was surprised at the mention of her last name. Mrs. Cole whispered something in his ear and Hermione could only catch the first two words that were, "don't mention," but couldn't hear anything after that. Eight months may have passed since the mysterious fire in April but no one had forgotten the tragedy. So many people died that night and the culprits were still at large. The friends, family, and neighbors that died that night- it would be the first holidays without them. The Grangers were a respectable family who owned the only dentist clinic in town. Every townsfolk knew the Grangers including their little girl so when news about their deaths got out, it hit the small town like the plague. It shattered all the townsfolk's hearts.

The store owner's eyes softened, but Hermione could see they were a little sad-looking now.

"Hermione, honey, Charlie is the one that donated all the books to the orphanage. Charlie," she said turning toward the man, "Hermione is constantly reading. I'm sure she has read almost all the books already, even the more advanced ones that some of the older children can't read yet," the matron boasted on.

"So the little lady likes books, eh?" the man asked. Hermione nodded. "Well, ain't that the best thing I've heard all day."

"My friend Tom likes books too. I wanted to buy him a present for his birthday," Hermione said and presented all the money that was in her pocket. She didn't have much but it was something. David would slip her a few pence every now and then which she felt extremely guilty for taking but it had added up handsomely. When he last visit, he gave Hermione a whole pound bringing her up to a heft $1.14. Mrs. Cole chastised him but he argued it was a Christmas gift and proceeded to push the currency into Hermione's hand.

The store owner looked at the small change with warm eyes and a smile. He hummed to himself as if he was thinking about something. Then, he snapped his fingers and softly said,

"Ah ha! I've got just the thing. Follow me." He waved for Hermione to follow him to the back. She looked to Mrs. Cole and the woman just waved her forward as she took a seat nearby the entrance. Hermione beamed and ran after the tall man. They were at the back of the store and Charlie opened a door to a cluttered closet. He was spinning around, looking for something until we pulled out a box that was sitting under many other boxes. He walked over to Hermione who was standing a few feet away and opened the box he was carrying.

"These are some old books that have just been sitting in the back for years," he explained while pushing the opened box to Hermione's feet. "You can buy any two books you want from here. Pick one out for your friend and take one for yourself."

Hermione's eyes widened with excitement. "T-two books?"

The store owner just laughed at her astonishment. The box of books had been there since the beginning when his grandfather had built the store. No one ever bought them so they were packed away until he brought them out now. To be honest, he had forgotten the box had even existed.

Hermione started to rummage through the box as her hands took one book out at a time and stacked them high on the ground. Charlie would give her a brief synopsis on every book she stopped to look at until she finally chose one that had a blue cover with a pair of big yellow eyes and small red lips.

The Great Gatsby, she read. From Charlies explanation, the book seemed interesting enough to take and so Hermione placed it on the ground separated from the others stack.

She kept digging and finally got to the bottom of the box where her fingers brushed against something that felt different from the other books. She pulled it out and looked at the book in her hand. It was black and the corners were covered in a goldish color metal. The cover was smooth but the material was soft. Hermione had never felt the material before. She opened the book and began to look through it but the pages were blank. They were crisp and stuck together as if it was being opened for the first time. She turned to Charlie with the strange book in her hands.

"What kind of book is this?" she asked the man. "It doesn't have anything in it." She bent the book to flip the page rapidly as if to show him her discovery.

Charlie smiled. "That, my dear, is a diary. You see, its pages are blank so you can write or draw anything you want in them."

Write anything I want? Hermione had never thought about writing in her precious books. She would never want to deface such beautiful items.

"Many people buy them to write their own stories or feelings down like when you have a bad day or you want to keep a memory," he elaborated. "Or, I guess you could turn it into a drawing book. You can put whatever you want on these pages, they're yours to mark as you see fit."

It was perfect. Tom could write his own stories in it. Hermione knew he was the smartest kid in the orphanage and that he would be able to fill the pages with his endless imagination. She looked excited at the black book.

"I like it. Can I take this too?" she asked turning the book over and over in her hands.

"I did say you could have any two books in the box, didn't I?" he answered with a wink. Hermione gave a toothy smile, giddy that she was able to find the perfect present for Tom. She handed him all the money she had and walked back to Mrs. Cole who was browsing the shelves near the door.

"Were you able to find something?" she asked as she saw Hermione coming closer. Hermione nodded and held up the plastic bag Charlie gave her to hold her books. Mrs. Cole held out her hand and Hermione took it. Charlie walked back and positioned himself back behind the counter. He tossed Hermione's money into the cash register, closed it and leaned over the counter so he could see the little girl.

"Now, shall we go back? It's almost dinner time."

Hermione nodded and before they got to the door, Hermione got on her tip toes and placed one of the candy she got earlier and put it on the counter. "Happy New Year's, Mr. Charlie!" she called up to the man.

He smiled, unwrapped the sweet candy and popped it into his mouth.

"Goodbye you two, get back safely." He looked down to Hermione as she pulled up her hood. "Be a good little lady, Hermione. Ya hear?"

"I will! Bye!"

The bell at the top of the door jingled and the two walked back to the orphanage. Hermione quickly took out Tom's present and tucked it into her jacket where she held it securely under her arm. After taking narrow roads and several turns, they both passed through the metal gates with Wool's Orphanage on top.

Hermione and Mrs. Cole stomped their shoes to knock off the snow that had packed under them and went inside where Tom instantly appeared in the hallway.

"Hello, Tom," Mrs. Cole greeted the sulky looking boy. He only nodded and took Hermione's hand before leading her away. "Dinner is at seven you two," she reminded them.

"Thanks for bringing me with you, Mrs. Cole." Hermione called behind her as Tom dragged her away. She turned toward Tom then and tugged on his arm to stop. "Tom, wait. I have to go to my room and put away my jacket."

He nodded and she ran up to her room and threw open the door. She quickly shed her jacket and stashed Tom's present in her pillowcase and placed it so that it was on the bottom side. She'll have to hide it better when Tom wasn't waiting for her. She pulled the piece of candy from her jacket pocket and took out The Great Gatsby. Charlie told her to pick a book out for herself but Hermione wanted to share it with Tom. She liked discussing what they read.

Hermione walked to her door and after throwing one more glance toward her pillow, she hastily made her way back down the stairs where Tom was waiting impatiently as he tapped his foot in a stead rhythm.

"Where did you go?" Tom asked irritably as they began their journey to their secret hideout. "You've been gone for hours." He would never admit it but he did miss her immensely and it was dreadfully boring around the orphanage as the young caretaker tried to organize a stupid game with all the other orphans.

Hermione giggled and presented the piece of candy and offered it to Tom as a peace offering. He looked at it for a moment, clearly surprised. The orphanage never had any candy or sweets. Mrs. Cole thought buying sweets and sugar was a waste of money and there was barely enough to keep the children fed, not to mention she didn't want to spend extra money treating cavities.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, still eyeing the candy and the colorful plastic that encased it.

"We went to the market to buy some things to make dinner and the man there gave me a piece. I wanted you to have it since you couldn't come out," she explained while leaving out the part about the bookstore. Hermione hated lying to Tom. He was her best friend after all and they have been together for more than half a year now but she didn't want to tell him she bought him a present. Not yet. You could say she was pitying him, but to Hermione, such word didn't exist yet. "Happy Early New Year's," she added and gave him a small smile.

He looked at the candy for several more seconds before bucking up the courage to take it.

"Thanks," he muttered softly and shoved the present in his pocket. There was the lightest shade of pink on his cheeks and it grew shades darker as he couldn't figure out the reason behind it. It wasn't like he was embarrass or anything. What was there to be embarrassed about? It was just a piece of candy that Hermione decided to reserve for him.

He grabbed her hand again and flashed her one of his angelic smile that made Hermione's heart fluttered and thump against her chest. It wasn't fair he had that glorious smile. Such thing should be illegal.

"What's that?" he asked nodding towards the square object in her other hand.

She beamed up to Tom. "I'm glad you asked." She looked around the room like she had something illegal tucked under her arm. She pulled out the book that looked gigantic in her tiny hands. She watched with satisfaction as his eyes lite up when he saw the book. "The bookstore owner got it from an old box in the back. He said it's been back there for years and that he's giving it to the orphanage." Tom took the book and eyed it. "Want to go read it?"

It was a silly question really, of course he would want to read it, probably just as much as she wanted to read it too.

Tom smiled and the two ran off to their spot, away from the other kids running around in the den where the unnamed caretaker was being tortured by the other girls pulling her hair. Once they arrived at their usual spot, they placed the book on the floor and laid on their stomachs. They flipped open the book and read until dinner where Hermione had to pry Tom away by tugging on his rough, wool sweater. The two wolfed down their steam vegetables and slightly stale bread before running back to continue reading their romantic book.

Three days later...

New Year's Eve- 11:53pm

There was a sudden knock on the door and Tom was pulled out from his slumber.

Who is knocking on the door in the middle of the night? Tom thought angrily.

Everyone knew his room was off limits. The only one he ever lets into his room was Hermione and that was only when he was with her. As much as he liked Hermione, it bothered him when people were in his room, even if it was his best friend.

"Pst! Tom?" a too familiar voice whispered against the door. Tom sprung up then, now fully alert and concentrated on the voice. "Tom. It's me, Hermione. Are you sleeping?" she asked a little louder.

He got up and walked towards the door rubbing his heavy eyelids awake. What was Hermione doing up so late after curfew? Tom knew she wasn't one to break rules. He opened the door and the serene moonlight from Tom's window hit Hermione's face.

"What's wrong? Had another nightmare?" Tom asked.

Ever since Hermione came to the orphanage during that stormy night, she often got nightmares. There had been a couple of times where Tom could hear Hermione in her room crying at night. He would go into her room and crawl under the sheets with her; it seemed to always calm her down and she would sleep peacefully. When she started to scream, that was when a doctor was called in. The doctor said she was having night terrors and that it was normal and common with children, especially children that had been through what Hermione had suffered.

Still, on a rare night when it happened, the matron would pin her down and shout for her to wake up, telling her it was only a dream although she and Tom both knew the "accident" was very much real. Tom never wanted to hear her scream and cry like that again. Whenever he would hear her crying through the paper thin walls, he would quietly walk over to her room and slip into her bed before she could get worse.

"N-no," she stuttered. The moon's rays behind Tom gave him a white glow that made him even more handsome and held her momentarily lost for words. She cleared her throat. "I have a surprise for you," she whispered, remembering her mission.

Hermione pulled out the diary that was poorly wrapped in an old newspaper from last week. "I'm sorry I didn't get to give it to you sooner, but I didn't want the other kids to see and I had to wait until Mrs. Cole was asleep." She held it out in front of him with a smile.

He looked at the package. "F-for me?" he asked stunned. In his ten years, no one had ever given him a birthday present. He took the package and stared down to it, turning it from hand to hand as if testing to see if it was real.

"Sorry but I lied to you before," she confessed. "Mrs. Cole took me with her into town so that I could get you a gift for your birthday."

"You bought this? For me?"

He looked at Hermione who nodded with excitement and showered him with a bright, warm smile. He felt a little jealous that she had money. Wherever did she get it? His jealous emotion was squashed as he remembered that she used it to get him something. She could have easily spoiled herself but no, she decided to spoil him with her surprise. And what a fantastic surprise it was. He was more surprised that she was able to hide it from him. If anything, he was impressed with her skills in stealth. He couldn't help but think she got it from him.

"Of course! You are my best friend," she replied cheerfully. Actually, Tom was her only friend. No one wanted to be friends with a shy and quiet person who woke up the orphanage with her piercing screams of nightmares, howling about fires and not being able to breathe. Tom was the only friend she had and that was enough for her.

She had waited three days to give it to him and had manage to fend off his constant interrogation in the beginning when she refused to let him into her room. He knew she was hiding something because she had been so giddy around him, more so than normal.

"But I didn't get you anything," he muttered shamefully to himself.

If he knew Hermione was going to give him something he would have taken the time to steal one of the other children's toys to give to her. During the time Tom had been here, he always just stole toys and other items from the other kids and claimed it as his own. It was easy with Mrs. Cole being dull and oblivious. No one would dare snitch on Tom. Such actions would surely be punished. But now... now, someone gave him a gift and it truly was his. It belonged to him.

"That's not true," Hermione shook her head. "You got me that pretty shell from the beach when I was sick, remember?"

The shell was a pearly white one that were larger than her two hands combined. It had a large protruding part that, if one was desperate, could be used to drink out of. Tom didn't know what he was thinking when he picked the object up for Hermione on his trip to the beach. Maybe it was her request to bring something back. A souvenir. He just thought the easiest thing was to bring back a stupid shell. It was sort of pretty, he'll admit, but he felt it no indifferent to the others but there it was, sitting on Hermione's windowsill when he was in her room as if it was a first place trophy she put up to be admired by green-eyed monsters.

"Yeah, but that was months ago and it's just a stupid shell."

"It isn't stupid. It's the best gift I ever got."

"It's the only gift you have gotten," he countered with a smile.

"No," she stated stronger, "It is the best gift because you gave it to me." She gave him a sunny and heartfelt smile before closing the distance between them and wrapping her thin arms around his neck to whisper, "Happy birthday, Tom."

He stiffen at the sudden contact, hesitant to return the embrace. When he made up his mind to do so, he was interrupted by the sudden sound of explosions, cheers, and the loud chiming bell that hung over the church down the street. Both snapped their head to the window. There were bright sparks of light of several different colors shooting into the sky where they burst, creating several more colorful streams of light to rain down. It was New Year's Day.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, both surprised and enchanted by the lights. She turned and pecked Tom on the cheek who again stiffen and instantly felt his blood rush to his face and ears. His temperature spiked like a fever as his face colored in the dark. If it weren't for the fireworks casting their colors of his pale face, Hermione would surely have seen him blush.

He blinked a few times to clear his head. Why was he blushing again? Was he getting sick? There was a draft in his room and his blanket did little to keep him warm. It couldn't have been the kiss, it was a simple, chaste graze of the lips. He shouldn't- wasn't- blushing because of that, surely.

Hermione was distracted as she looked back to the fireworks painting the dark sky with their lights, her face pressed tightly against Tom's glass window. Tom continued to watch her. He watched her gleeful expression as rockets whizzed and exploded in the sky followed by cheers. She was completely absorbed with the dancing lights, oblivious to his stare and amber cheeks. Although the fireworks were lovely, Tom thought the twinkle in Hermione's eyes were more radiant than any star or firework he had seen.

He felt his chest tighten. Definitely sick, he concluded silently.

They heard the sound of footsteps from downstairs and Hermione froze as if Medusa had just cursed her. She wasn't suppose to be out of bed after curfew and both knew that well.

"Oh no, I better get back before Mrs. Cole catches me," she said running to the door and leaving the boy behind, naïve to the effects her earlier action still held on him like an evil curse.

He could hear her light footsteps as they pitter-patter their way to the room next to his and her coded three taps on their shared wall to bid him a goodnight. He rose his hand to where Hermione's lips met his cheek and looked back at the present she gave him. Tom slowly peeled away the newspaper wrapping, revealing the simple black diary that belonged to him and only him.

Author's Note: Oh Tom. So young, so in denial.

It's getting to be that time of the year. What will you give to your special someone?

Until next time.