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"We were dreamers not so long ago.
But one by one we all had to grow up.

When it seems the magic slipped away,
we find it all again on Christmas day..."

Josh Groban "Believe"

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2:15 AM

Hermione rolled over onto her back, feeling a tiny pang in her body as she did so. She had turned onto her side in her sleep, and lying in that way on her stomach wasn't exactly comfortable. She stretched out her arms and one of them fell against an emptiness in the bed. She turned her head and saw that she was alone. She sat up and pulled the covers off, turning the switch on the kerosene lamp that sat on a small table beside the bed.

"Hey! Put that light out!" whispered an angry voice that wasn't Ginny's

"Sorry," Hermione apologized carefully stepping over both Ginny and Seamus lying on the floor to reach her robe. Seamus had come into the room an hour ago after he was sure that Mrs. Weasely was finally asleep. Ginny was fully clothed above the wool afghan she was under, but Seamus shirt and a few articles of Ginny's clothing were lying discarded next to them. "Harry hasn't come in yet, I want to find out where he is." She gave no indication of surprise at seeing Ginny and Seamus in their current situation.

Ginny kept herself covered with the blanket and handed Hermione the robe. "Don't tell Mum, I'd rather enjoy a quiet Christmas Morning."

"Don't worry, you're safe," Hermione said slipping the white terry towel over her sleeveless nightgown and tying it off. "This isn't endangering the ways of Wizard Kind."

"You're a good woman Hermione," Seamus said slipping an arm around Ginny's waist from under the blanket.

"Just don't stand up, either of you until I'm out of the room," Hermione said in warning.

Hermione walked to the door and stepped out into the hall. The hallway was dark, but moonlight streaming through a shield shaped window, casting enough of a gray glow for her to see by. The oak wood floors were cold under her bare feet, making her wish she hadn't taken off her woolen socks in the bed. She debated on turning around and retrieving them, but decided she could deal with cold feet as opposed to walking in on Ginny and Seamus.

Pictures of the Weasely's distant relatives smiled down at her from their frames mounted on the wall. Hermione was surprised to see one of her and Harry taken on their wedding day next to one of Mrs. Weasely's Aunt Tessa. It was a strange thing to see yourself smiling back at you repeatedly. Harry looked almost shy, but very handsome in the black dress robes and she had on a strapless eggshell white dress with her hair in an updo scattered with tiny white roses, her arms wrapped around the front of his shoulders. Hermione compared how much smaller her waistline had been back then with a sigh before venturing further down the hall.

A pinpoint of light moved slowly along the wall on the left. It wavered there for a second before suddenly throwing itself at Hermione, and illuminated both her and the person who was traveling by it.

"Hermione," Fred stepped over to her in a bright blue robe with a silver 'W' emblazed on the right corner. "What are you doing up?"

"I'm looking for Harry," Hermione responded. "He hasn't come to bed yet."

"Oh. He was still down in the sitting room when I came up." Fred looked like he had gotten caught doing something illegal. "I was just coming down to see Angelina –" he paused for way too long, staring at the door to his old bedroom. "Sometimes we like to have these late night talks you see."

"Fred for heaven's sake you don't have to tip toe around with me!" Hermione snapped. "I'm six months pregnant, it's not like the idea of two people having sex the middle of the night is a foreign concept."

Fred's eyebrows rose at her answer, then a smile tugged at his lips: "Why Mrs. Potter, you're so very frank tonight –I like it." He took a step closer to her. "Just remember, mum's not the word."He stepped back to the door and twisted the knob, but didn't push it open right away, turning back instead to Hermione: "I'm going to get me my Christmas present early, you go get yours too."

Fred disappeared into the bedroom, and as Hermione walked away she caught what sounded like Fred saying: "You ready to see a real Whizzing Weasely rocket?"

She stepped carefully down the curving staircase and walked quietly into the sitting room, seeing the glow of the bewitched candles, and Father Christmas sleeping at the base of the tree on top of a soft package that she knew to be a wrapped sweater for Ron.

The sofa and the chairs around it were all empty, the stillness of the air only broken up by the quiet ticking of the cuckoo clock. There was a large multi-payned window that overlooked the front drive, revealing the beginnings of a soft snowfall in the night outside. Hermione found Harry at this window, watching the flakes add to the building white carpet on the sleeping ground.

"Harry?"

Her voice made Harry turn around to her. "Hermione, what is it? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she walked over to where he was standing. "I just woke up, and I wondered where you were."

"I couldn't sleep," Harry took his eyes off the snow and looked down at her. He was only two inches taller than he was so it was really more of a slight downward tilt of his head.

Hermione turned to glance out at the snow for a moment. "It's beautiful out, it reminds me of our first Christmas at Hogwarts, do you remember? You and Ron kept convinced me to study outside and spent the whole time pitching snowballs at my head."

"I remember you were throwing them too after a few minutes." Harry said

"Well I had to get even with you two," she smiled.

Harry smiled as well, for a brief moment, then it suddenly vanished and his face shifted into a new territory of emotion: "Do you think I'll be a good father?"

"Harry what?-" The change of subject was so sudden that it caught Hermione off guard, blindsiding her with what to say: "Of course you'll be. You were wonderful with Elise all night."

"I wish I was as confident as you Hermione."

"I'm not as confidant as you might think, we're both new at this, but so is everyone at first."

"You don't understand-" Harry cut himself off what he wanted to say but couldn't get to come out. "Your mum Hermione, she watched you grow up. You have all these memories of your childhood with her, and now you have this connection with her because she went through what you're going through now. I don't have that connection – my dad died before I could even remember him." The intensity of his gaze burned through her eyes, her brain, into her very being. "How can I be a good father when I can't even remember my own?"

Hermione touched his shoulder, sweeping away a thousand sentimental answers that hovered in the air, begging for her to use them. "As long as you love your children, it will be more than enough. Your dad knew this; it's why he sacrificed himself – that's how he loved you."

"It's not enough," Harry's words had dropped as quiet as a still night. "I want him here –" a tear dropped from his eye like a falling star, and he made no move to wipe it away. "I'm sorry I know that sounds bloody selfish-"

"Harry-" Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck.

Harry slid his arms around her back, holding her, feeling a heaviness settle in his chest. "I miss my dad Hermione."

Hermione nuzzled her head into his neck, feeling her own tears splash onto her cheek. She wished so badly at that moment that she knew James Potter; that he was here, that he could hold his son. She pulled away suddenly when a sharp pang smacked into her side.

Harry looked at her in concern "What is it?"

Hermione's answer was to take his hand and press it on her stomach.

It only took a second for Harry to feel the baby kick out against his hand. A mixture of wonder and awe spread itself across his face at feeling his own child move.

Hermione saw the expression color every inch of his face. "How can you possibly think that you won't be a good father?"

Harry moved his hand from her stomach to her face and kissed her with an emotion that couldn't be expressed to her any other way. He pulled away after several moments and bent low, kissing the roundness of her belly.

Hermione caressed a hand through his hair. "Happy Christmas Harry."

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End.

I always loved the Christmas moments at the Weasely's and wanted to do something with one. The family is so large and chaotic that it makes it wildly fun. And I love Harry and Hermione, so of course we had to have them. This was intended to be fluff, but not sugary sweet candy, I didn't want Harry reflecting on his dad and just thinking 'oh how wonderful I knew him for a year before he died'. I wanted to show his sadness, his love for his father in a much more real light.

Please review.

Peace,

Mystic