It was nearing Christmas time, which Hermione found only amplified her feelings of missing her parents. This would be her second Christmas without them, but this one would not offer the distractions of a life or death mission. Instead she tried to bury her head in finals, her duties as head girl, and occasionally she found time to catch up with Ginny and visit Ron.
Ron had been relentless in his efforts to invite her to Christmas at the Burrow, but she knew the sight of a family celebrating together would only make her feel even more desperate to see her own parents. There was also the fact that Ron had been making less than subtle efforts to try and bring their relationship to the next level of intimacy.
She could not blame him for his advances; they were after all, in their seventh year, and she was his girlfriend. And of course she wanted to experience sexual love, she may have been a stereotypical "good girl" but she wasn't a nun. Still, something about it kept feeling wrong. It's just the timing she kept repeating to herself. When the time is right, I will know.
Ron had been quite patient about the matter, and she did enjoy spending time with him, whether it be laughing over chocolate frogs or walking about in the snow at Hogwarts grounds, hand in hand. Still, the concept of being in the Burrow just near his bedroom made her feel a bit nervous.
Then there was the issue of Harry, who Ron had still yet to apologize to. She had managed to get the general idea of their argument, and she was surprised it had held out as long as it had. It didn't seem to be the worst argument they had ever had, but Ron's stubborn streak kept him from apologizing, and Harry seemed to have become introverted in an alarming way. She felt like she saw less and less of him as he was always busy with classes, quidditch or rounding up a few Gryffindor boys to go listen to weekly quidditch matches on Professor Freeman's radio.
Hermione was glad that Harry had found a male role model in Professor Freeman who, from all accounts, seemed to have a reputation for bravery, strength and intelligence. Harry had lost every man who had ever come into his life as a father figure, and while he was too old for that now, having someone he trusted and admired was important to him. She understood that, but there was still something about the grey eyed, black haired professor that sat oddly with her.
Harry had also come to spending much time at the library which surprised her. She had once seen him talking in hurried whispers with Madam Pince, but when she asked him what it had been about he told her it was just a bit of homework. She could tell he was lying, but she wasn't sure what to make of it all.
Harry, for his part, had been trying to avoid Hermione. When he did see her, it still remained the highlight of his day, but he didn't want to admit that to himself. He also didn't want to admit that he kept rejecting the advances of perfectly attractive, interesting girls because of his hold ups over her. He was certain that Sirius would have wacked him upside the head for being such a fool, but his Godfather was dead and the closest male friend he had now was Professor Freeman, who fortunately never attempted to breech such private topics.
Harry wasn't sure what he wanted to do for Christmas. He supposed he would visit Godric's Hollow to leave flowers at his parents' grave. And then after that depressing trip... dinner? That was about the extent of his plans, but he was glad to hear that Hermione would be around. He decided he needed to get her an extra special gift given that she would be missing her parents and that the year before he had subjected her to a particularly bleak holiday season.
The weekend before the students packed up to head home for the Christmas season, Harry headed into Hogsmeade to find a gift, this time being more careful about hiding his identity to avoid mobs of fans and nosey reporters.
Hermione also headed to Hogsmeade that weekend, but with the intention of seeing her boyfriend before he headed to the Burrow to celebrate the holidays with family. Ron had been making quite a bit of money as the head of Hogsmeade's Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, so she hadn't been sure what to get him. In addition, she hardly had any money to her name since she no longer had parents to assist her on the financial end of things. So she had taken to charming what looked like a small toy owl. The owl was about pocket sized, but when prompted could be used to find missing items, flying to the mislaid object and hooting loudly. She was quite proud of her nifty bit of magic work, and knew it would be useful as Ron was constantly losing things, and when he used the "accio" spell, it often resulted in disasters as things were knocked over or ripped apart.
Having neatly wrapped the gift she went to find him at his flat in Hogsmeade. "Merry Christmas Ron" she greeted, glad for the warmth of his fireplace.
"Happy Christmas" he replied, taking her coat and kissing her cold cheek.
He had set out two steaming mugs of cocoa, and she smiled upon seeing them, taking a seat at his the small square table of his modest bachelor's pad. They enjoyed their warm beverages and talked easily about small topics such as the weather. Afterwards they found their way over to the couch where a warm fire crackled.
As they settled into the plush cushions, Ron edging closer to her until his lips were pressing down on hers. She returned the embrace, feeling his tongue glide into her mouth, her lips parting to allow this. He began to kiss her heavily, leaning into her until her back was pressed hard against the arm of the couch. He pushed against her, the weight of his body falling against her until she felt she could hardly breathe. He fumbled to find his way to moving his hand beneath the fabric of her sweater, his hand warm as it glided against her stomach and then his long fingers wrapped against her rib cage, her heart beating nervously beneath.
This is right, this is goodshe told herself as the assault of his kissing pressed against her lips. She felt his fingers slide their way under her bra, gently grazing her breast, and she stiffened in spite of herself, not sure why or how it had happened.
He suddenly retracted his hand, and the weight of his body against hers was removed, his wet kissing and forceful tongue lifted away as she gasped for the air she realized she was being deprived of.
"This isn't right is it?" he said, his voice heavy and remorseful as he turned his head away, staring into the fire before them.
"What do you mean?" she asked, feeling horrified that she had insulted him somehow.
"You know what I mean Hermione. I love you, I have for years now... and I always thought, that, well, we'd marry one day" he admitted, suddenly blushing furiously. "I wanted to be that guy who was perfect for you, who you would admire as a wonderful husband, hell, maybe even a father to our children one day. I know we're young, and I probably sound like a bloody fool but... I'm just not that guy for you."
She gaped at him, unprepared for this comment. "Ron, you can be... I mean you are..."
"No, please listen" he said, turning his brown eyes on her, a note of desperation suddenly in his tone. "I'm not trying to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to believe we could be together, I really hoped that when you got here we'd kiss and I'd be reassured, but I just know more clearly than ever.
I know we will both find that special sort of love one day but... hell we're too different! Half the time we fight, we're both stubborn, I want one thing, you want another, I have this stupid pride, you have this bossy attitude... and we might just make each other miserable! I can never be that patient, doting husband you deserve."
She thought maybe there was truth in his words, but she was so shocked that there was a ringing in her ears and she could hardly think straight. It was as if the image of the future she had invented to herself to get through the burdens of war had just been shattered, and she felt stupid for not seeing it coming. Tears stung at her eyes sharply, and she ran for her coat, not listening as he desperately urged her not to leave. She ran from Hogsmeade, not slowing until she was nearly at the door of Hogwarts. She controlled her tears until her made it to her bedroom, and there she promptly locked the door and let herself cry, throwing the carefully wrapped gift she hadn't given him to the floor.
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It took Harry nearly the entire day to track down a gift that he felt was ultimately suitable. It was late evening when he got back to Hogwarts, and decided to go to the library once more. He had been trying to find information on Anna Alvarez, but without Hermione's clever assistance it had been a difficult task. He had done very little research without her in the past, and he realized he barely grasped any concept of how the library was organized. He had asked Madam Pince for assistance at one point, but she hadn't been able to find any authors by that name, and had referred him to a reference of wizard and witch biographies which came in a series of massive, heavy books that he had been slowly wading through with no success.
He had been considering asking Professor Freeman if the name held any significance to him, but then decided he did not want to drag the professor into his personal affairs. He considered him to be a friend, but he had also been burned enough times to know that being trusting wasn't always the best quality. So he decided to keep up the search on his own for a bit more before he looked for help.
He sat by the candlelight, searching through the books, name after name of wizards and witches dating back to thousands of years ago. He often found himself distracted by a funny name of bizarre tale, until he finally decided it was time to give up on the search and retire to his room for some sleep. He walked the dark hallways of the school, his mind drowsy with various thoughts, allowing each to rise up and then pass through his mind. While the issue of Mr. Anonymous was strange and had the potential of being dangerous, Harry could hardly feel too concerned when just a year before he had been quite certain he was destined to die any day.
"Greedy Goblins" he said to the Fat Lady, who was grumpy at having been woken. She swung open and Harry felt the warmth of the common room welcome him. Many students were still awake studying, and those who had already finished mid-year tests were enjoying avid conversations or games of chess. The sight suddenly and painfully made him miss Ron.
Just as he was thinking about the tall red head, the boy's sister came walking down the stairs from the girl's dormitories, her posture tense. Her eyes were fixed directly on Harry, which made him feel uncomfortable. He had gotten used to being around Ginny as she was in some of his classes and on the quidditch team as well. But they had still managed to cautiously avoid each other, keeping conversations to pleasantries and small topics. Thus, being caught in the direct stare of her light brown eyes made him feel a bit flustered.
"Harry, we need to talk" she said, her voice reflecting a demanding tone that reminded him of how fiery her spirit could be.
"Um... sure" he said, following her back out the porthole and into the hallway, once more upsetting the disgruntled Fat Lady. Once in the corridor he felt a surge of discomfort, unsure about what Ginny had to say to him and half feeling that she was about to yell at him. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw deep concern.
"I don't know what's going on Harry" she sighed. "Nothing is as it should be... you and Ron not speaking, this awkwardness between me and you, and now Ron and Hermione breaking up. After all each of us has gone through, the bonds of experience should be far stronger than any of this!"
"Wh-what?" Harry stammered. "Ron and Hermione?"
"You hadn't heard?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "I was sure you would have been the first she ran to! Ron just told me, he wanted to speak urgently through the Floo Network, he's quite upset."
"She broke it off with him?" Harry asked, feeling somewhat hopeful in spite of himself.
"No, he broke up with her. He told me that his feelings towards her had always been confused, he was always caught between fighting with her and wanting to kiss her, and it was no way for a relationship to go on."
Harry felt a pang of concern for Hermione. Ron had dumped her, just before another lonely Christmas, and he immediately knew she would not be feeling well about it. "Have you seen her?" Harry questioned the youngest Weasley.
"No, I assumed she had gone off to find you. When I saw you enter the common room, I was so upset by seeing Ron all glum that I felt like I needed to say something. And now I have... listen Harry, I know my brother can be a git, but such great friendship can't fall apart like this. He does feel awful for what he said to you, and he knows you were right. He told me what you said about being a better brother, and he has been, and I appreciate that. I just hope... things will be okay again one day between you and him, and you and I as well. That's all."
Harry nodded, seeing the wisdom of her words. There was nobody to blame directly for all the hurt feelings that seemed to be circulating, but it needed to be forgiven. She was right; it was no way to end a great friendship. But right now he needed to find Hermione and then he knew he would require a fair amount of cooling off before he could resist the urge to hex Ron for hurting her.
"It was a good talk Gin. I need to find Hermione." He turned quickly, about to run off through the school, but Ginny stopped him.
"Harry, try her bedroom first."
"Of course" he nearly laughed, feeling like a dope. He went back to Gryffindor Tower when he realized that he would have difficulty getting up the stairs to the girls dormitory given that they were cursed to prevent boys from going up to the girls' rooms. "Ah, shit" he swore. He thought to ask Ginny to check, but realized there was something awkward about having the sister of the boy who had just broken her heart knocking on the door. "Well, here we go."
He got a running start and as soon as his feet hit the stairs they turned into a long slide as they had fifth year when Ron tried to climb up. However, his momentum was great and his balance quite enhanced from years of quidditch. A loud bell clanged, alerting the students in the common room to what was happening, and there was a sound of hoots and laughter as they saw Harry recovering his footing and racing up the slippery chute. A few boys whistled and cheered him on as he disappeared around the corner, having successfully made his way into the dormitory.
Slightly winded he straightened himself out and knocked on the door that read "Hermione Granger, Head Girl". "Come in" greeted her familiar voice.
He slowly opened the door to find her lying on her bed, surrounded by books studying for her last exam. "Er- hello" he said awkwardly, standing in the door frame still.
"Harry?" she exclaimed, nearly falling off her bed in surprise. "How in Merlin's name did you get up here?"
"I just ran... fast" he explained lamely.
"Oh" she responded, blinking hard.
He studied her for a moment, thinking at first that she looked quite all right. She seemed to be buried in work, and her voice sounded fairly normal. But as her brown eyes caught his he saw the faint but tell-tale red lines of bloodshot from crying. "I heard what happened" he told her, his shoulders slumping slightly as he still stood leaning against the door frame.
She looked away, returning her face to her books, quickly scribbling something down with her quill. He took the absence of her gaze as a chance to survey her bedroom. He had never seen her room before, and unsurprisingly it was very neat. She had a large bookshelf stuffed full, a carefully arranged desk and beside her bed a framed picture of her parents. The only poster on her wall was of Beatles Abbey Road, which surprised him. He hadn't known she was a Beatles fan. He wondered what else he didn't know about her.
There was what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, and he felt he ought to turn around and leave when she finally spoke. "You can come in Harry, close the door."
He followed her commands and she slowly closed the cover to her book, magically sending them all from her bed and into a neat stack on her desk. For a moment she stared at the wall as if contemplating something and then he realized she was trying not to cry. He remembered the promise he had made to her as she had slept that night at the Burrow- that he would watch out for her. But there was nothing he could do to fix this. He wanted to run to her side... truth be told he had a growing need to kiss her, but this was not the time or place and he knew that very well.
"Ron said that he had always imagined us getting married one day" she said with a short laugh. "Funny thing is, I always thought much the same. I don't know why, it was just this dream I started having ever since the war ended. But nothing has been like I expected. My parents don't remember me, half the time I don't even know what I'm doing with my life, I hardly ever see you anymore, and Ron isn't in love with me..."
She broke off, keeping the tears brimming in her eyes from spilling over. "The thing is, he's completely right! I shouldn't want a boyfriend who never knows the right thing to say and who has an overabundance of pride. But after the war, I just wanted to be in love and have someone be in love with me. I thought if I could make that happen, the pain of what was lost wouldn't be so great. So I forgave him for leaving us during the horocrux hunt, and I forgave him when he was flirting with the stupid girls, but he was more honest than I could be in the end. That sort of romantic love... it was just never really there."
"You will find it Hermione, eventually" he said softly, now walking closer until he was sitting beside her on the bed. She suddenly rested her head on his shoulder, and he could smell her hair, a sweet scent that he could not quite place but made him feel calm and pleasant.
"I know" she sighed, feeling a lot lighter in his presence, as she always did. "At least we have each other right? It can't be an entirely terrible Christmas if we have each other."
"It will be a great Christmas" he resolved, kissing the top of her head as she sat up. "I promise."
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At first, the break up with Ron had felt like swallowing a heavy rock. For several days she couldn't seem to escape the feeling of dread that she had lost something important, that she had somehow failed. She blamed herself for not going to the Burrow like he'd asked, she blamed herself for not taking the next step with him like he'd wanted. But eventually, the hurt feelings and upset left her as more and more she thought about their final kiss, and how it had been nothing like she had always wanted. After a few days, she began to see that it had never been right, and she came to accept that.
What also helped was seeing Harry more frequently. He would walk with her to the Great Hall for each meal, and on the night when everyone went home he presented a large box of Butterbeer which they drank together by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, staying up late and playing wizarding games and chatting about fond memories.
When she woke up Christmas morning it was with a feeling of remorse. She looked at the picture of her parents at her bed side, and whispered "Happy Christmas" knowing that they would probably be celebrating in their new home in Australia, happy in each others' company, not even knowing they had an eighteen year old daughter waking up to cold stone floors in a magical castle somewhere in England.
She decided to go down to the common room and see if Harry was there so she could give him his gift. When she got downstairs, there was no sign of Harry, and he wasn't in his room either. She felt frustrated that he had gone, but also somewhat nervous as it wasn't like him to just leave her alone. She grabbed a heavy blanket from her room and wrapped it around her before the fire, anxiously hoping he would return from wherever he had gone.
The portrait door popped open and Harry entered, his black hair dusted with still melting snow. "It's snowing" he grinned, shaking his and sending flecks of water everywhere.
"Where did you go?" she demanded.
"To visit my parents" he explained. "I wanted to leave flowers at their grave again, like we did last year. I suppose it's a somber tradition, but I'd like to keep it up."
"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed, feeling terrible for being angry with him. "I would have gone with you!"
"I wanted to let you sleep" he explained. "And I got some breakfast from the kitchens" he held up a woven basket, pulling back a cloth to reveal a delicious array of foods.
He set it down on the table and they dug in as they opened a small stack of gifts that had been awaiting them. They had each received the traditional gifts of a sweater and fudge from Mrs. Weasley, this time with a note reading I do hope you will both come visit soon. Please forgive my Ron for being a prat, he doesn't mean it and we do so love you both. Harry snickered at the prat comment and Hermione elbowed him, but not without a bit of laughter of her own.
They had each also received gifts from Ron, with a note of his own apology. Harry was glad to see the red head was finally coming to his senses, and was glad that he had thought to send a gift of his own, despite their recent lack of communication. Hermione had also sent Ron the charmed owl, although it had been last minute due to a battle to make up her mind. Ron had gotten her a set of books; an innocent enough gift, but sweet.
Harry was also surprised to find a gift from Professor Freeman- four tickets to a Puddlemere United game. Bring along some of your mates- hope this cheers your Christmas up a bit stuck in that drafty, shitty castle. Harry laughed at the unedited professor's choice of language, and was excited by the proposition of seeing Oliver Wood play soon.
"Well, would you like to see your gift?" he asked Hermione, once they had finished their breakfast.
"Of course!" she exclaimed, feeling full and happy. Harry had been right, it was a much better Christmas than she had expected. He handed her a small package wrapped somewhat sloppily, suggesting he had wrapped it himself. She untied the ribbon and shredded the paper to reveal a little black box, a locket inside of it on a fine silver chain.
"It's not just any locket" he explained, a bit of excitement in his voice. "At first I didn't know what to get you. I thought of all sorts of things, but nothing seemed quite right. I knew there was only one thing you would really want for Christmas... the same thing I want... my parents back.
But of course, I couldn't do that, as you know the memory charm you performed on them is much too strong, I doubt that even with the elder wand it could be reversed. But Professor Freeman had me thinking about mirrors..."
She popped open the locket, and inside there wasn't a picture, just a shiny mirror surface with her own partial reflection peering back at her. "Remember the two way mirror I had a piece of when I saw Aberforth? It's very similar... you can charm it to see anyone you choose. Whenever they are happy or feeling peaceful, it will show them to you. The incantation is simple; you just need something that belonged to your parents when you do it. And then you can watch over them."
Tears of happiness rose up into her eyes as she held the delicate locket in her hands. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of something like this, of all the nights she had secretly stayed up looking through old photo albums and crying... and the whole time there had been a simple way to keep her family in her life.
"So... you like it?" he asked, suddenly uneasy by her tears.
In response she threw her arms around his neck, and he could feel her warm, moist tears against his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of hair, which lately had become increasingly familiar to him. Then suddenly, his lips were on his and it was as if a shock ran through his body, and his fingers ached with the sudden desire to pull her into him closer, to deepen the kiss, but in just as quick a flash her touch was gone.
"I'm sorry" she said quickly. "I got carried away, I was just so happy!" She turned quickly with the excuse of getting one of her parents' things from her room to activate the charm.
As he watched her run off he slumped back in the couch dully, staring into the fire as he thought Of course she didn't mean it... she was just broken up with by Ron, what did you think she was going to rebound into your arms? Still, he found his way to regaining good spirits by focusing on the fact that she was happy with his gift. He often felt that her losing her parents was entirely his fault, and being able to give her a little bit back made him feel happy.
In her room she quickly slammed the door, slowly sliding down to the floor, her fingers gently pressed against her lips where they had just touched Harry's. What was I thinking? her mind screamed. He must think I'm such a floozy, kissing him like that just a week after Ron breaks up with me. And yet it had felt so good, it had felt just like the way they said it ought to in books and in movies. The brief brushing of their lips had set her heart racing, had made her world spin an almost dizzy but wonderful way. Every cliche of love had swelled up in her, and it was so much different than the almost sweetly awkward experience of kissing Ron.
What does this mean? she wondered to herself. She had known that she found Harry attractive, and that she loved him deeply for all of his wonderful qualities. There wasn't a person in the world she trusted more than him, felt more safe or comfortable in the presence of. But she had always thought somehow, for some reason, that it was Ron she was meant to be with, that she would fall in love with. Had she fallen in love with Harry without even realizing it?
"Oh my God" she whispered out loud with a note of panic. "I'm in love with my best friend." She began to pace suddenly, wondering how she hadn't noticed it sooner. It should have been so obvious she thought, feeling foolish. Why else would I go racing off into danger with him without a second thought, or feel like the highlight of my day was seeing him, or get upset when other girls paid him too much attention, or cry when he was hurt...
She could have slapped herself upside the head for being so daft. She stopped pacing and looked at herself in the mirror. What am I going to do? she wondered, glaring into her own reflection and wishing suddenly she could speak to her mother and get some womanly advice. She had just spent the past six months dating Harry's best friend, how was she just going to pick up with Harry now? And did he even feel anything for her? If so, he had never shown it.
She felt sick to her stomach and laid down on her bed, feeling dizzy once more, but this time in a bad way. She had thought that Ron breaking up with her was a heart wrenching feeling, but the realization of unrequited love was a million times worse. It felt like she couldn't breathe. He can never know she decided after what felt like an eternity. Things with Ron may never be the same; I can't afford to lose another friendship over a failed attempt at romance.
With this decision in mind, she went about setting up the locket charm. She may not be able to talk to her mother, but at least she could see her for Christmas morning. When she arrived back in the common room it was with the now functioning locket that dangled from her neck. Inside, the mirror now reflected her parents as they happily shared Christmas dinner. It was growing dark in Australia, and they had lit candles as her father served her mother a large slice of ham.
Harry could tell from the content smile on her face that she had the locket working, and she showed him. "I think they would have liked you" she said, as he watched the Grangers toast to one another. "Here" she handed him a neatly wrapped package that appeared to be a soft covered book. "It's really nothing special, nothing like what you got me. But I hope it helps..."
He carefully tore off the paper and his heart nearly stopped. "Les Maudites: An Ancient Mystery Exposed". But it wasn't the topic that stunned him as much as the author. The fifty page report had been written by none other than Anna Alvarez.
"I've been looking like crazy to find out who Anna Alvarez is!" he exclaimed.
"Why?" Hermione exclaimed. "I only found the report because you had mentioned Les Maudites to me that night. I thought it might hold some special interest to you, and since I don't have much money to buy you a gift with, I thought I'd put my library skills to some good."
"This was in the library the whole time?" Harry asked.
"No" she frowned. "You were right; there was nothing in the library about Les Maudites. I had to specially request this from a library in Spain. It took a bit of cross referencing and tracking down, but there you have it."
"I couldn't find anything about a writer named Anna Alvarez" Harry admitted.
"That's probably because it's a pen name. It says so inside. I didn't read the whole thing though, I didn't want to snoop. It's clear you've been spending a lot of time at the library, and I had a hunch this had something to do with it. But it's also clear that you don't want to tell me what." She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
"It's probably nothing" Harry began. "I didn't want to tell you because I know how you worry."
"Well now I AM worried."
"Over the summer I received an owl at Grimmauld Place from a man I've been calling Mr. Anonymous. I don't know how he found me there, or who he is. But I've received several owls since. He seems to know a lot about me, and I can't trace the sender no matter what I try. They're not really threatening, but they're certainly mysterious."
"I want to see them" she demanded, and he acquiesced by running up to his room and bringing them for him to read. She tried the same spells he had to reveal the sender, but with equal results. She read over them carefully. "They really are strange Harry. It seems like someone is stalking you, but that's not what is so strange, I'm sure you have dozens of stalkers."
"Dozens?" he yelped.
She ignored this, looking up at him with a light of concern in her eyes. "What concerns me is that is seems as if this Mr. Anonymous expects something of you. And why does he want you to know about Anna Alvarez and Les Maudites?"
"I dunno" Harry shrugged. "Looks like another fucking mystery for Harry Potter, wonder child."
She eyed him sadly, and could see how glum the whole thing was making him. He just wants a normal life. Doesn't he deserve that?
"Just be careful Harry" she warned.
"I always am right?" he grinned suddenly, knowing full well that he was anything but a cautious person. He placed the report to the side now and stood, stretching. "Thank you for this, I have a feeling it's important but I'll read it later. For now, I want to celebrate Christmas and I have just the right way to get into the spirit."
"How's that?
"Let's get drunk and play in the snow."