Chapter 9: Take it Easy
December came to Hogwarts and with it, a lot of snow. Students were forced inside for the most part and what time they did spend outside, they were bundled in so many layers, it was a wonder they could move their arms.
Hermione had taught Harry how to conjure a set of blue flames, the hottest flames magic could create so that they would have some warmth with them whenever they ventured onto the grounds.
Thanks to the teachings of Flitwick, Harry found a way to combine the flames with a few spells so he could hold the flame in his hand and it would float above it. On Saturday morning, Harry was rolling it through his fingers, feeling the warmth but never letting it burn him.
"I don't know how you do that," Hermione said as she kept her flames safely in a jar and held the jar for proper warmth.
"Must come down to intent," Harry said. "I combined the spell with a little Leviosa and imbibed it with a knockback jinx. Anytime it comes near me, it'll float away, gently."
"You're an odd one, Harry Potter."
"You're just now noticing?"
"No, but now I feel safe commenting on it," Hermione ribbed him.
"Well now that you feel safe… catch!" Harry pushed the ball of flame toward her.
Hermione yelped and reflexively put her hand out. The ball went right up to her palm and bounced away, resting in front of her hand.
"Don't scare me like that!" Hermione then pushed her hand forward and the ball came back to Harry. Back and forth they threw the ball until they were especially cold."
"Hey you two," Hagrid's voice called out to them. "Come on in, would'ya? Yer gonna freeze if yer stay out and longer."
They sought refuge in Hagrid's hut, stepping inside to a roaring fire as he was pouring hot water into three mugs.
"How're ya doing?" Hagrid asked. "Between classes and Quidditch, I've hardly gotten to see yer."
They filled Hagrid in on all their adventures, minus Harry's time in the Hospital Wing.
"And apparently Snape got himself bit by the Cerberus guarding the third-floor corridor," Harry finished catching Hagrid up.
"How do you know about Fluffy?"
"That thing has a name!?" Hermione's shrill reply echoed across the hut.
"Course he does, I raised him meself," Hagrid said. "When Professor Dumbledore told me he needed Fluffy te guard the…"
"Yes?" Harry leaned forward in his chair. "What's he guarding?"
"That's none of yer business," Hagrid once again started looking around, looking for any sort of distraction. "That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel, ya hear?"
"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Harry and Hermione asked in concert, leaning forward excitedly.
Hagrid then set the record for the world's biggest facepalm.
"I shouldn' have said that. I shouldn' 've said that."
Deciding they had pushed things a little far, Harry and Hermione traipsed back up to the castle. He looked at her and knew they both had the same thought.
"Library," they said simultaneously.
"Jinx," again in stereo. "Jinx again."
The rest of their Saturday came trying to find anything on the aforementioned Flamel. Harry knew he had read it while Hermione could swear she had heard the name before. It was at breakfast the next day when Hedwig landed at the breakfast table that Harry's holiday plans changed.
"They said yes!" Harry was distracted from his breakfast by Hermione's squeal of joy. She turned to her best friend. "How would you like to spend Christmas with my parents and me?"
"I wouldn't want to intrude," Harry tried to talk her down but she wasn't having any of it.
"Harry," Hermione said, earnestly. "Christmas is a time for family; for hope, joy and good tidings. We'd like to have you join us this year. My parents would not have said yes if they thought you were intruding."
"There is one thing," Hermione looked hesitant. "In order to get them to understand my request, I sort of… told them about your trip to the hospital. I didn't go into specifics but I did tell them generally what was wrong. I hope that's okay."
"I'm not thrilled with it," Harry said. "But I trust you and trust your parent's discretion. If they're willing to have me, I'd love to spend Christmas with your family."
"As long as your aunt and uncle say yes," Hermione told him. "We would love to have you."
"I'll write them a letter but I'm sure they'll just be glad to not have me 'freeloading' on them this year."
Harry wrote them a quick letter, playing it a little coy. He told them either they say yes or he'd have no option but to return to them. A week later, an annoyed-looking Hedwig returned with their response.
She flew in at breakfast and landed in front of him. Somehow the Dursleys had taped a note with the word "Yes" to her leg. She clicked her beak even after Harry removed the note and Harry offered her bacon.
"Three strips is more than enough, girl," Harry started negotiating with his familiar. She screeched and lightly pecked his hand twice.
"Five? Good lord what did they do for you to demand five?
Harry could swear Hedwig glared at him as if to say "you don't know the half of it."
"Alright, fine." Harry held out two more strips. "Better?"
Still annoyed, Hedwig flexed her wings and flew off. Ron took a break from his breakfast, mid-bite mind you, to look at the exchange with a look of confusion.
"Who is the master in that relationship?" Ron said, his mouth still full of egg.
"She was delivering a note for me to some people who are rather… difficult," Harry tried to explain. "And could you please swallow before talking? We're trying to eat here."
"What was so important for you to send her off?" Tactless Ron struck again. "I didn't think you had anyone to write to. The only one who uses Hedwig is her."
Ron pointed his fork at Hermione who glared right back at him. Even though he had toned down his temper and started to tolerate her, Ron still managed to rub her the wrong way.
"I had to get permission from my guardians to approve my plans for Christmas," Harry said.
"But I thought you were staying, same as me. We were going to play chess and get to know one another better."
Outside of their weekly chess games, in which Harry felt he was improving and even beat Ron a few times, they had little interaction. Ron still scraped by in his studies and generally tried to ignore Hermione whenever she was near.
"I'm sorry Ron but I received a last-minute invitation to spend the holiday away from the castle and it would be rather nice to have some time away."
"Whatever, maybe we'll catch up once you're back."
"Yeah, that sounds good," Harry said but even to his ears, it didn't sound convincing.
A week later, Harry was packing up for the journey back to London, trying to figure out what to pack. Clothes weren't an issue: everything hung off him but thanks to the Nutrient Potion regimen that Pomfrey had him on, they weren't as bad as September. Harry put on a decent amount of weight and even caught up to most of the class in height, making Harry thankful for the growth charms Madam Malkin put on his school robes.
No, what Harry was really deciding between were the books. He didn't want any of his school books- Harry and Hermione were working well ahead of their peers- but Harry didn't really have anything for leisure reading. Then he saw it; a book he had bought months ago but never cracked into.
After Tracey Davis recommended he look into Wizarding Families of Britain, Harry had realized the book in question was so old that it was nearly illegible. Using Hedwig, Harry had ordered a copy of his own but, due to school and Quidditch, he had forgotten all about it.
Might be a good thing to examine over break, he thought as he slid it into his bag. Maybe it'll have something about Flamel in it.
Meeting Hermione in the common room, Harry hoisted his rucksack up. Since it was only two weeks, he didn't feel the need to travel with his trunk this time.
"Ready to go?" Hermione said. Together they walked down toward the train that would take them to London.
Back in the same compartment that they shared on the way to Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione both sat on the same side of the bench this time. They tried to read for a while until the door opened.
"Mind if we join you?" Neville asked. With him were Susan, Hannah, Lavender, and Parvati. Padma introduced herself to the group but left her twin to join some of her other friends in another compartment.
They talked about the holidays, school- Susan and Hannah thanked Harry for starting the Potions club- and different family traditions.
"Well my auntie and I usually spend some time alone," Susan said. "She gets caught up in her job at the DMLE and we don't often get a lot of time together."
"DMLE?" Hermione asked.
"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Susan said.
"Think of it like the Magical District Attorney's office. She oversees the Auror force, which is the Wizarding Police Force. She also decides which cases to bring before the Wizengamot, for the most part. The only ones who can overrule her are the Minister or the Chief Warlock and even those can be overturned if 60 percent of the 'Gamot votes for it."
"Sounds like a complex job," Harry said. "I honestly don't even know how Dumbledore does everything. Hogwarts, Wizengamot, ICW. That's three positions with three varying responsibilities."
"You've seen McGonagall's office, right?" Lavender said. "That's how. She's Deputy Headmistress but she basically runs the school. What's she up to, three tables now? Plus she teaches her own courses and is the head of a house of students.
"Suddenly it makes sense how a troll was able to get in," Hermione responded.
"Auntie was irate when I told her about that. She sent a howler to Dumbledore about not properly managing the wards, after that."
"Howler?" Harry asked.
"Wards?" Hermione asked at the same time.
"Howlers are audible letters, usually reserved for when you've royally screwed up. I've heard rumors that Fred and George's mom can crack the stones at Hogwarts," Hannah explained again. "And wards are basically a magical security system. We start to learn about them in Runes, which we can take starting third year."
"Well, well, well," Harry groaned as he recognized the voice. "Looks like a real pity party going on here. What's the matter, Potter, can't make some real friends?"
"What's the matter Malfoy?" Harry shot back. "Did you lose your bodyguards or did your monthly payment not go through? Or, more likely, they got tired of being treated like hired help? You whine about my friends all the time, Malfoy, yet you seem to have none of your own. How sad."
"That's…. no…. they're just getting something to eat. I don't need backup for a mediocre half-blood like you."
Malfoy stormed out of the compartment to general laughter.
"I don't think I've seen anyone get under his skin so well," Hannah said. "Bravo, Harry!"
From there, Harry, Hermione and Hannah informed all the purebloods about different muggle traditions.
"So they believe an old man with a beard comes down their chimney, eats cookies and leaves presents," Neville was working through the idea of Santa. "But they don't believe in magic?"
"What do you mean, Neville?" Harry asked.
"Well, he could be a wizard. Extension and weightless charms on his bag, apparates into the houses, summons the items out of his bag and then leaves."
"I never thought of it that way," Hermione was impressed.
"It's possible Saint Nicholas was a wizard and the legend grew from there," Harry said. "We all know how easy it is for one act to create a legend beyond even that person's control."
From there, things settled down until finally, the train was pulling into the station. Neville turned to Harry and asked him a question he had been dreading all ride long.
"Would you be willing to meet my gran?" Neville asked. "She's heard a lot of you from me and was hoping she could meet you."
"I'd love to," Harry smiled at his nervous friend. "Lead the way. Do you mind if Hermione comes?"
Neville shook his head and lead the way onto the platform, toward a woman wearing a green dress with a gray shawl. Most noticeable, however, was the stuffed vulture on her hat.
"Hello, grandson," the woman's voice was raspy and a little cold. "Ah and you must be Harry Potter and, I'm guessing, Hermione Granger? Neville has told me all about you. I'm Augusta Longbottom, or Madam Longbottom if you'd prefer."
"Yes, madam," Harry said, shaking her extended hand. He learned that looks could be deceiving as his hand was almost crushed by hers. "Neville speaks very highly of you."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said, wincing as she took got the same handshake. "Neville tells us you're a very formidable woman."
"That's my grandson. He has so much of my Frank in him and I'm just excited to see it continue to come out. My, Harry, you look just like your father. Good thing he didn't have those eyes though. He broke enough hearts as it was.
"Neville tells me you don't know anything of your heritage."
"I was raised in the muggle world, ma'am," Harry said. "I've been trying to catch up since then."
"That's unfortunate. If I had my way, you would have been raised with Neville at Longbottom Manor. Alice was your godmother after all."
"Gran…" Neville tried to stop her before she said too much.
"Your mum?" Harry turned to Neville. "'My mum's best friend was muggleborn and she was top of the class.' That's what you told me on the train. Why didn't you say that was my mum?"
"I thought you knew but you were embarrassed by me," Neville hung his head. "Because I'm such a poor wizard."
"Neville," Harry tried to make his voice gentle. "I simply didn't know. I've heard a few stories about my dad but almost nothing of my mum. I'd like to hear more, if possible."
"Unfortunately," Neville's Gran spoke up. "She and my Frank are in St. Mungo's. They were attacked not long after your parents, in fact. The attack rendered them catatonic. We hope for recovery or cure but, after 10 years, we're not keeping our hopes up. All that remains of House Longbottom is Neville here and my Frank's wand which he uses to this day."
"I'm sorry for bringing up such a sore subject," Harry laid his hand on Neville's shoulder. "We both suffered because of this war. So did Susan and a whole host of other families. I vow, here and now, the last of the Potters will stand resolute with the last of the Longbottoms."
Maybe the Great Alliance isn't dead, Augusta thought. They don't yet realize how big this is.
"Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom will follow," Neville and Harry clasped each other's wrist, Neville's blue eyes peering into Harry's green.
As Harry and Hermione walked away, Harry looked pensive.
"Something bothering you?" Hermione knew his looks by now to know something was.
"It's really cruel to call me the Boy-Who-Lived when so many didn't."
"They needed hope, a signal that the war was over."
"But it wasn't really over, was it? Neville lost his parents, Susan hers. Draco's father keeps the ideology that caused the war alive and instilled it into his son. We have to do better, be better."
"Oh! There's mum and daddy!" Hermione shot off like a rocket, catapulting into her father's waiting arms.
"Princess! My how I missed you!"
"I missed you too daddy, mother," Hermione turned to hug her mom with equal ferocity.
"It's good to see you, Little Winter," Hermione's mum held her daughter close for an extra second before looking up. "Harry!? Is that you?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Helen, remember? You look… healthier and I think you have even grown a good bit since September."
"Hogwarts has been good to me," Harry said as he looked directly at Hermione. Hogwarts was good but it was Hermione who got him to his current form of health.
"It certainly has. Come on, we should probably start heading out before traffic gets too bad," Richard said.
They walked out of King's Cross, toward a black Jaguar sedan. Harry smiled, thinking Vernon would be impressed.
"So Harry," Helen turned to look at him as he took his seat in the back. "You're here for two weeks. What would you like to do?"
"Oh I don't want to get in the way," He shrugged. "Whatever you usually do sounds great."
"Isn't there anything you like to do during the holidays?" Helen asked. She knew Hermione told her about that trip to the Hospital Wing but she was continually amazed at how much the boy had suffered.
"I've... never really had a holiday before, though I did enjoy making Christmas dinner for the Dursleys and I'd like to at least help with yours, if I may?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Helen smiled warmly at him. "But first thing tomorrow, we are taking you shopping for some clothes. I can see your growth spurt has made your pants a tad short. It's time we fixed that."
"I couldn't ask…"
"Good thing you aren't asking then," Richard chimed in from the driver's seat. "Consider it a Christmas present from us to you."
"Thank you, sir."
"None of this 'sir' business. Until the queen deigns to knight me, I shall be Richard, okay?"
"Okay… Richard," The name still felt weird on Harry's tongue.
A short while later, they pulled up to a two-story Tudor-style brick house with white accents. Harry stepped out of the car and looked up to the house. There was no other word to describe it but homey. Snow had just fallen, giving it a look reminiscent of a Christmas card.
"Come on, I'll give you the tour." Hermione dragged Harry through the door.
Suddenly, Harry was treated to a tour of the house led by the youngest docent ever.
"And this is the library," Hermione said as she walked through a set of French doors into a room whose three walls all had built-in bookcases. Inside there was an assortment of reading chairs, loveseats and even a single couch with plenty of room around to access all the books.
"How many of these are yours?" Harry slyly asked, dodging a smack from Hermione in the process. After the library, Harry was led upstairs to a big bedroom with a queen bed in the center. The room was painted pastel blue and would catch the full light of the sunrise in the mornings.
"Wow, this is incredible," Harry said. "Looks really comfortable. Where will I be sleeping?"
"Harry," Hermione smiled. "This is your room. For the next two weeks, you'll be sleeping here."
"Really? I don't know what to say…" Harry's face reddened. "Thank you. Especially thank you for inviting me."
"You're welcome," Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him onward, continuing the tour. "Down the hall is my room."
Harry entered the room and instantly knew it was hers. Where the first room was blue, this one was lavender with two bookcases up against the far wall and a desk placed before the window. Late afternoon sunshine floated in through the window, making the cherry wood of the furniture glow. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the bookcases chock full of every sized book imaginable. Everything about this room screamed "Hermione."
"This is fantastic!" Harry was awed at how different this house felt from Privet Drive. After Hermione's room, she lead him down the hall, pointing out the bathroom that they would both be using and led him toward the second staircase at the back of the house, pointing to a set of double doors before they descended.
"That's mum and daddy's room," she said. "Though we're supposed to knock before we enter."
Down the stairs, Harry entered into a dream. A gleaming white kitchen with hardwood floors, an island with granite countertops and a state-of-the-art cooktop built into it. Around the island was a collection of maple cabinets, a dual oven, a sink and a stainless steel dishwasher.
"Wow," was all Harry could say as he ran his hands along the island, feeling the cool granite beneath his hands as he drank in the sight. In the corner to Harry's right, next to the island, was a small round table that served as a breakfast nook, a set of French doors leading out to a sunroom while another solid oak door lead to the formal dining room.
Due to the snow, Harry couldn't see what the backyard offered by Hermione filled him in.
"Out back there's a pool and in the summer we set up a hammock," Hermione said. "What do you think?"
"I think it's brilliant," Harry said, still amazed by everything the house offered. Once Harry finished drinking in the kitchen, Hermione lead him back to the main room where Harry could see a large entertainment setup with a recliner, couch and love seat arrayed around a TV that would make Dudley squeal.
"It feels like home," Harry said.
"Well we're glad you feel that way," Harry turned to see Richard and Helen coming down the main staircase. "And we are so glad you could join us."
Given the long day, the Grangers decided to order out and, for the first time, Harry was treated to fresh pizza. It always smelled so good when the Dursleys ordered it yet the order was always accompanied with Harry being locked in his cupboard.
"You'll freak them out," Vernon always said, laughing at his pun.
"Well Harry," Richard smirked at him. "Has this dish snagged a PIZZA your heart?"
Hermione and Helen groaned but Harry leaned into it.
"That was just too CHEESY, Richard."
"I should have stayed at Hogwarts," Hermione facepalmed.
"I should have joined you," Helen agreed.
"Oh come Hermione," Richard was trying to keep himself from laughing. "You're looking at us like we're weird-DOUGHS."
"Okay, Winter," Helen sighed. "There's no hope for either of them."
"You keep calling Hermione 'Winter,'" Harry finally got up the nerve to ask. "Where does that come from?"
"Hermione's name comes from a Shakespeare play, like everyone in this family. Mine comes from Troilus and Cressida, Richard from Richard III, obviously and so we carried it on with Hermione from Winter's Tale. Hence, I call her 'My Little Winter' or sometimes simply, 'Winter.'
"I like that and I love the name," Harry said looking between mother and daughter. "It is great that it means so much to the both of you. Do you enjoy going to see Shakespeare plays?"
"It's actually a favorite outing of ours," Hermione said. "Getting dressed up and going to a Shakespeare play is among my favorite memories growing up."
"Do you have a favorite play?"
"A Midsummer Night's Dream," Hermione said, her eyes glazing over. "It's so witty and irreverent but only if you have a really good actor playing the Fool."
"So Harry," Richard interjected as Harry was reaching for another piece. "Do you have a favorite book?"
"I didn't have the most opportunities to read while growing up but I got hold of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe one day. I loved the idea of finding a doorway to a magical world to find a measure of escape."
"However," Harry looked at Hermione as he continued. "Hermione loaned me her copy of the Lord of the Rings and I have enjoyed that. I love the relationship between Frodo and Sam, how they persevere against all odds."
The conversation carried on with ease as the Grangers got to know the boy who featured in Hermione's every letter home.
"Boy, we were hungrier than I thought," Richard sat back and examined the empty pizza boxes. "Guess I won't have cold pizza for breakfast tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," Harry dropped his head. "I'll make it up to you; I'll cook breakfast tomorrow. What time would you like it ready, sir?"
"First off," Richard worked to keep his voice even. He recognized the signs and remembered Hermione's letter about his Hospital visit. "I haven't been knighted so Richard will do until then. Secondly, I am not angry and you don't have to cook breakfast for us. You are our guest.
"Besides," a smile appeared on his face. "It's really Hermione's fault."
Hermione gasped and threw her napkin at her father, hitting him square in the face.
"You know, Hermione," this exchange brought Harry out of his shell again. "If you weren't so afraid of heights, you'd make a good chaser. Your aim is pretty dead-on! I still haven't forgotten the bean."
"What bean is this?" Helen asked.
"On the train, we were trying different snacks and one of them is called Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. When they say every flavor, they mean it. I got a sap one first and Hermione challenged me to eat another. I was understandably reluctant, so I told Hermione if she wanted me to eat it, she'd have to earn it. Next thing I know, she's thrown the bean, mushroom by the way, straight into my mouth."
"To think," Richard got in on the teasing. Hermione was positively crimson at this point. "My daughter, the athlete. Too bad Hogwarts doesn't have a basketball team."
After that exchange, Helen noticed wide yawns from both teenagers.
"I saw that you two. Up to bed, the both of you. We'll be out of here tomorrow at nine for shopping. Everyone better be ready to leave by 8:50. Got it?"
Harry laughed and Helen snapped to look at him.
"Sorry," he tried to collect himself. "But I see where Hermione gets her occasionally bossy nature. She has the same tone when she's laying down the law for homework and classes."
"Yes," Richard stood and hugged his wife. "She got the best parts of my wife, though I'd watch out. She also got my wife's temper and my mischievous nature. It's a deadly combo if you're not prepared for it."
"Enough you," Helen smacked him in the back of the head. "Up to bed, the both of you."
Harry ascended the stairs, conducted his nightly routine, pulled back the covers, sank into a bed that even outstripped the school beds and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Harry awoke with a start, momentarily forgetting where he was. Slowly he moved toward the door, opening it to investigate the sound that woke him. It was early, that much he could tell. The sun had not even risen through his window as he opened the door and tip toed into the hall.
Hearing what sounded like screaming, Harry bolted downstairs, alert for whatever trouble he might find.
There on the couch, clad in a bathrobe, sat Richard watching some sort of program on the television. It featured a character with messy black hair in an orange uniform. He seemed to be facing off against a bigger bald man.
"What're you watching, sir?" Harry asked, taking Richard by surprise.
"Harry! Didn't realize you were up," Richard said. "First, I'm still not knighted. Second, this is Dragon Ball Z, it's an animated series being aired in Japan. They're working on an English dubbed version but I have a colleague who loves it and turned me onto it. It's hard getting a subtitled version but it is worth it.
"That's Goku," Richard pointed to the man in orange. "He's an alien from a warrior race called the Saiyans. He was sent to Earth as a baby and has since become its best defender. He's currently defending the Earth from a pair of warriors from his home planet.
"Helen doesn't like the program so I have to watch it early in the morning on days we don't have to work. Would you like to sit and watch?"
Harry was entranced as he moved to sit in front of the TV.
"Wow he's fast," Harry said, his eyes wide. "The bigger guy can't even lay a hand on him."
"That's Goku," Richard laughed. "Trains hard to become the best, always challenging himself to be better. Look how he analyzes his opponents and tests them, before attacking. Speed and brains will beat brute strength every time when properly used."
Harry drank in everything he watched, wondering how much of this could be achieved with magic.
"What's that?" Harry asked at the ball of energy Goku was shooting.
"It's called the Kamehameha wave. It's a special ball of energy that he focuses into a single point before shooting it at his enemy."
That was super cool, Harry thought and pondered a magical equivalent.
"Harry," Richard turned to the young boy. "I want to thank you for being there for Hermione. You feature quite prominently in her letters, you know? Befriending her on the train, standing up for her, saving her from the troll.
"I thought you were a lonely soul when we met at King's Cross," Richard's eyes, which Harry noted were exactly the same as Hermione's, locked onto his. "I hoped you would be a good friend to my daughter but I could never be sure. You have been good for her and to her. It's tough trusting another, especially a boy, to not hurt their little girl but, as a father, I am forever grateful."
"I am grateful too, Richard," Harry said. "I can't imagine things without her. If I had met someone like Ron Weasley first, I might not have embraced my studious side. I could have become lazy and let others dictate my future. Heck, if I met Ron first, I might not have stood up for her on Halloween."
Harry took a deep breath and continued.
"Hermione has been a pillar for me to rebuild myself. You've read her letters and I'm sure she mentioned my past. Hermione has allowed me to move on from that and start becoming someone that I think would make my parents proud.
"She didn't have to stop and help me at the station. She didn't have to stick with me when she realized how rough my past was. She didn't have to invite me for a normal Christmas with you. It's nice; having a friend who accepts who I am, yet challenges me to be better. Experiencing a real, loving family has opened my eyes. Thank you. For everything."
"Glad you finally dropped the sir," Richard smiled and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. For once, Harry didn't flinch. "As long as you are good to my daughter and treat her with the honor and respect she deserves, you will always have a place within our home."
Richard glanced back at the screen.
"Oh look. Goku and Vegeta are starting their fight now. My colleague tells me it's quite the event."
For the next hour, Harry watched Goku fight Vegeta, thoroughly enjoying the normalcy of watching an animated program, in the morning, with no chores to do.
"I'm surprised Hermione isn't up yet. Usually, she's waiting for me when I come down in the mornings."
"Oh when there's no prospect for learning, my little princess can sleep in a bit. But promise her a museum visit, though, and she's up at dawn," Richard laughed as he thought of their last trip to Paris when Hermione did just that.
At the conclusion of the episode, Harry stood and decided to return the kindness of the Grangers. Marching into the kitchen, Harry took a quick inventory before turning to Richard.
"Richard," Harry said. "What do you and Helen usually like for breakfast?"
"You don't have to do anything, Harry."
"I would like to. Do you like omelets?"
"That would be nice. I'll go get Helen," Richard said, climbing the stairs to alert his wife to what Harry was doing. At the same time, Harry got out the eggs, started cooking some bacon and chopped up a few onions and peppers. When the bacon was perfectly cooked, he removed it from the pan and chopped it up too as Helen entered the kitchen.
"Good morning, Harry," Helen smiled at the preteen. "I hear you are cooking omelets?"
"Yes Mrs. Granger," Harry said. "Do you like peppers and onions with your omelet?"
"It's Helen and yes."
Adding a little milk, Harry whipped the eggs into his preferred consistency before poring the eggs into the skillet that he set out. Adding the peppers, onions and bacon bits, Harry layered cheese over the top, letting it all mold together. Flipping the omelet closed, he slid it onto the waiting plate and held the plate out for Helen.
Having experienced Hermione's cooking a few too many times, Helen tentatively took a bite. Her eyes widened and fireworks set off in her brain.
"Harry," she said, breathlessly. "This is incredible. Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"One of the benefits of the Dursleys. They had me cook every day. Turns out, I'm actually quite good at it, not that they would say it aloud."
"You're hired," Helen said. "How much do you want to cook for us?"
"Every day that I am able to, I would love to, free of charge," Harry said. "It's the least I can do."
"You don't have to do that, Harry. You're our guest."
Looking to Richard, Harry asked, "What would you like in yours?"
"What you did for Helen looks good to me."
Harry busied himself replicating the omelet as Hermione entered the kitchen.
"Something smells wonderful this morning," She said, groggily. "What's for breakfast, mum?"
"Well ask Harry," Helen laughed at the way Hermione snapped to full alertness. In her tired brain, she has forgotten Harry was their guest. "He's making omelets for everyone."
"Haaarrry…" Hermione moaned his name. "You're the guest, not the cook."
"I wanted to do it," Harry said simply as the omelet slid out onto the plate intended for Richard. "What would you like?"
"What they had, though could I get a little spinach in it as well?" Hermione made doe eyes at Harry.
"Put those away and I will," Harry pointed at his friend. "Those should be illegal, you know?"
"Don't I know it," Richard said with a laugh. "Half our library exists because of those eyes."
He took a bite and exclaimed, "You can cook! Harry, this is amazing!"
Harry blushed at that praise but continued to work and before long, Hermione had her own omelet.
"You put Hogwarts to shame, Harry," Hermione lauded his cooking the same as her parents.
Harry started to clean up and Helen stopped him.
"Aren't you going to make one for yourself?"
"Oh, that's not necessary."
"It most certainly is," Helen put her foot down. "If you are going to cook for this family, you will make enough for yourself. Besides, you'll need the energy for today."
"Why? It's only a little shopping."
"Oh brother," Richard rubbed his temples. "Harry, there's no such thing as a 'little shopping' where my wife is concerned. There's a reason we only do it once in a while. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.
Harry resigned himself to his fate and turned back to the cooktop, adding the ingredients for his own omelet. As he finished, Helen picked up his plate and carried it to the sink.
"If you cook," she said. "You don't clean. Go on up and get ready. We leave in a half-hour."
Curious about what fate lie ahead of him, Harry headed upstairs, ready to face whatever came next.
A/N: I didn't intend Christmas to be two chapters but some of the interactions took on a life of their own.
Next comes Christmas and Hermione gets a very special gift that she was not expecting.
