I hope the pacing is okay in this one. Inspiration came and went quite frequently, so I'd set it down for a bit and come back to write more, which wound up with a bit of a disjointed first draft I had to smooth out. After so much proofreading, it all starts to look like a meaningless wall of words.

Anyway, I hope you guys like it.


Chapter Six: Escalation

Cedric Diggory was the toast of the school after his performance against the dragon. Even some of the Beauxbatons contingent were passively rooting for him after the disastrous showing their own champion had given. Viktor Krum seemed even surlier than usual during meals, listening to everyone gush and awe over Cedric's flying prowess. Hermione thought he was being a bit childish, personally; it wasn't Cedric's fault the quidditch star hadn't thought of flying. Cedric hadn't even, not really—it had been Harry and his wonderful brand of madness which had concocted the scheme, which was a strangely personal point of pride for Hermione. Thanks to her crush, Hogwarts had outshone the other two schools quite handily.

Currently, their school was in the lead in the Triwizard standing, with Durmstrang a close second and Beauxbatons a distant third. All three had at least succeeded in obtaining their golden eggs, which were apparently some sort of clue to the next task.

Neville Longbottom, meanwhile, was abroad who-knew-where and didn't look to be returning anytime soon. Speculation ran rampant as to his whereabouts and his motives, most especially after a one-two punch of articles featured in Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet—both of course were written by none other than Rita Skeeter.

"Utter codswallop, both of them," Harry said, lounging back into their usual sofa in what had become their study spot. Hermione had her legs pulled up and was furiously fighting a blush while leaned against his side, both of them studying the magazine and the paper together. "I can't believe people eat up this drivel."

While normally quite unconcerned with matters such as tabloid gossip and "government newspapers", as he put it, Harry was unusually riled up today, and the reason was obvious; he was (at least partially) the subject of one of the articles. While the Daily Prophet article had gone with the usual accusations of Neville Longbottom being a coward and other quite tasteless comparisons to his heroic parents—Hermione thought that if they were trying to goad him into returning or something, they were doing rather a better job of the exact opposite and pushing him further away—the Witch Weekly offering was quite a bit more…steamy:

TRIWIZARD TURMOIL!
Inside Cedric Diggory's Heartbreak

With the juiciest bit of gossip having dried up, Rita Skeeter seemed to have realized at some point that Cedric—being quite handsome and having made a name for himself in the First Task—was an opportunity in his own right. And given that he was right in the middle of a burgeoning relationship, that was all Witch Weekly needed to run a cover story on him.

Of course, a scandal had to be woven in as well.

"Oi, Potter! Two-timing Chang with Granger, are you?"

"Sure am," Harry said. "What was your girlfriend's name again, Browning?"

"You – "

"Me," Harry said, getting to his feet as Mark Browning made to advance on him. When Harry didn't back down, however, Browning only sneered and stalked off.

"Imbecile," Harry muttered sinking back into his seat and shooting Hermione a glance. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "He really had his tail between his legs, though, didn't he?"

"Apparently, I can be somewhat intimidating," Harry said blithely, and Hermione giggled.

"You do have quite a scowl," she told him. "What did Skeeter call you? Hawkish?"

"You know, the only good to come of this article is that Mum is sure to sic Uncle Sirius on her," Harry said. "He's old money, he can afford to make her life difficult."

"Maybe this will be her wakeup call," Hermione said.

"Let's hope so," Harry muttered.

The Witch Weekly article had been, naturally, sensationalist gossip befitting such a rag, painting Cedric as a tragic hero just wanting to make a name for Hufflepuff House, while Cho had been made out to be his faithless love, stepping out on him with Harry Potter and flinging herself at him during the First Task. Poor Harry (who had done nothing more than try to help Cedric in the face of impossible odds) was now known to readers all over Wizarding Britain as some womanizing homewrecker, with a boundless appetite for female company and no regard for any hearts he might break in the process.

Skeeter had then seen fit to cite Harry's dead father as a factor in this, declaring his Uncle Sirius "the last disgraced scion of the once-great Black family" and calling into question his parenting skills.

That had gotten Harry absolutely livid.

"After all he's done for us, after all he's still doing, for her to write such drivel. Oh, she is going to pay."

Unable to think of anything else to do, Hermione simply nestled back into his side, resting her head on his shoulder and reaching a hand up to gently run her fingers through his hair. Fighting off a blush, she couldn't help but marvel at how soft it was—she'd been wondering for weeks.

"Is this at least helping?" she asked, and Harry let a small chuckle.

"It's actually helping immensely," he admitted.

"Christmas break is quite soon," Hermione said. "No more classes."

"Now that's something to cheer me up," Harry said with a grin. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Hey, I get to take you to the Yule Ball. That's pretty good, innit?"

"Oh, guess who asked me to the Yule Ball the other day?" Hermione asked, and Harry let a curious noise. "Viktor Krum."

"…Really?" Harry asked. "That's… Did you run across each other in the library?"

"I guess that's why he's been skulking around there," Hermione said, frowning a bit at the memory of his quiet little confession. "He's been…watching me."

"That's actually quite creepy," Harry confessed. "He's a bit old for you, isn't he?"

"Aren't I a bit old for you?" Hermione asked him in coy tones that surprised even her, and Harry snickered.

"Touché," he said.

"Anyway, at least I had an excuse," she said. "I already have a date, and things are getting semi-serious between us."

"Oh, we've upgraded to semi-serious?" Harry asked with a grin. "Exciting."

"I thought so," Hermione said primly. "I might even kiss you on the cheek while we're out at Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Goodness," Harry said in mock-proper tones. "I shall have to owl Mother and make sure it's gentlemanly to let you do so."

Hermione snorted out a laugh, scooting closer. "That's it, I'm doing it now," she insisted, pressing a smooch to Harry's cheek and leaning back to be rewarded with the sight of his gobsmacked face and a slightly pink blush on his cheeks.

"Uh…doing what?" he asked. "I missed it."

"Oh, this," Hermione said, now giggling quietly as she leaned in to plant another on his cheek.

"Hang on, wait a second," Harry said, shaking his head. "I must be missing something. Are you doing something, or…?"

"I'm doing this," Hermione snickered, scooting in once more. This time, as she leaned in, Harry turned and captured her lips against his, a quick and tasteful peck that had Hermione stunned and lingering for a moment before she pulled away. "Oh…I've been had."

"I, uh…hope I wasn't crossing a line," Harry said, his lovely green eyes searching hers in a nervous, flicky way.

"Perhaps that one needed to be crossed," Hermione said. Her own face felt quite warm, and she chanced a look around before deciding she didn't really care who saw this next bit. Let them gossip. Pulling her legs up onto the sofa, she leaned against Harry and went in for their second of many more kisses.

Let Rita Skeeter write her drivel; she wouldn't let anything to spoil this.

000

The very next day, Harry and Hermione strode hand-in-hand to the carriages that would ferry them through snow and sleet to Hogsmeade Village. Seated across from each other, Hermione found herself unable to stop grinning like a fool as she glanced up at the boy. They had spent a bit of time…well, snogging (there was simply no other word for it) in their unobtrusive corner of the lounge—it was hardly exemplary behavior for a prefect, but Hermione was starting to become a bit disenchanted of the school and its faculty. They were allowing such mocking and bullying behavior to be heaped on poor Harry. Even Professor Sprout had apparently been treating him a bit coldly, seemingly believing that he was stealing Cho away from Cedric.

At the very least, Cedric was making sure to explain the truth to everybody—in fact, he'd have everyone believe (and rather rightfully so) that Harry was the sole reason he'd come out of the First Task so ahead in points.

In any case, to say she was smitten would be a dramatic understatement. Harry was fast becoming her very favorite person in the whole world, and just simply being around him was a treat its own.

"What's that smile for?" Harry asked, his grin matching hers.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said impishly.

"Right," he said. "So, we going to Proudly's again?"

"I think that sounds lovely," Hermione said. "Not like we can do much of a scenic walk in this weather."

"The Three Broomsticks is sure to be packed," Harry said with a glance out at the gray sheets of frozen unpleasantness pouring upon them. "Thankfully, Proudly's is something of a well-kept secret."

"Sort of a shame," Hermione said. "They could do for more clientele."

"Nah, Piston Proudly says the business he gets is all he needs," Harry said. "Any more, and he wouldn't be able to keep up with it, and all the little cakes and such would lose that personal touch."

"Well, that would be tragic, wouldn't it?" Hermione said with a giggle.

"Very much so," Harry chuckled, that deep and dusky sound that Hermione went ever so slightly mad for. "Oh, and word travels fast, don't it? Daisy's already on my case about us snogging yesterday. Says I should've asked you to be my girlfriend."

"Oh, did she?" Hermione asked, trying very hard to pretend that her heart was not in the midst of some sort of catastrophic implosion. "How very rude of her."

"She means well, doesn't she?" Harry said. "Just wants to see me happy, I think."

"And she thinks that involves…me being your girlfriend?" Hermione asked, attempting and failing quite spectacularly to keep her voice level. Harry, for his part, seemed just as reluctant to make eye contact with her as she was with him, though their gazes did eventually meet—and both burst into laughter.

"Are we being a bit ridiculous right now?" Harry asked her, and she snorted.

"The fact that we both snuck a glance at each other at the same time was just…comical," she giggled.

"Hermione," Harry said after a moment, fixing her with a level look. "D'you reckon we should?"

"Should…what?" Hermione asked, feeling her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

"Do this for real," he said. "Date."

"Well, we're on a date," Hermione said, staring at her shoes.

"You know what I mean," Harry said, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice that actually made Hermione feel a bit bad.

"Boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked him. "Everyone around us would be so smug, telling us they told us so and all that."

"Yeah, probably," Harry said. "I don't much care, however."

"Neither do I," Hermione said with a smile, slipping across the small carriage to squeeze onto the bench next to him and nestle against his side. Grinning down at her, he leaned in and captured her lips in another warm and wonderful kiss that had her clutching at his coat to make sure he didn't try to get away too soon.

He didn't.

"Well," she said after a fashion, still grinning like quite the fool, "do we even still need to go on this date? It seems we've already made a decision."

"Fair enough," Harry said with a chuckle, and Hermione was pleased to hear a breathless note to his voice. "Cake, though."

"You make an excellent point." Hermione snuggled into his side. "Cake is wonderful."

The carriage trundled down the main path, and they disembarked into sheets of frozen rain. Harry, luckily, had brought along a massive umbrella, which he clutched to while Hermione clutched to him. Rather enjoying herself, she found herself dissolving into giggles as the pair tried to walk in sync toward the pastry shop, nearly tripping several times and causing her to squeal as Harry caught her. As he held the door open for her, she found herself taking an extra second just to look up at the boy, to revel in the wonderfully satisfying feeling of knowing that that was her boyfriend.

She, Hermione Granger, had a boyfriend!

And he was quite a catch!

Soon enough, the two were sat at the same small corner table as last time, Hermione quietly thanking the counter girl as she served them two steaming mugs of cocoa. Across the table, Harry seemed contemplative as he regarded her, though he sipped his cocoa with a pleased hum.

"Tasty," he said.

"You seem a bit thoughtful," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh, just…rather pondering how different things turned out than what I'd been thinking when I talked to you that day at the game," Harry said. "Definitely went better than I could have thought, you know?"

"Did it?" Hermione asked, feeling another of what seemed to be an endless number of blushes heating her face as of late. "Well…I'm glad you decided to sit next to me. I'm…glad to have met you and…well, everything that happened after. …I do need you to stop scribbling silly things in your planner during my Transfiguration class, though!"

"Oh, c'mon, I have History of Magic, and it's boring!" Harry chuckled. "I'd much rather talk to you."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Potter!" Hermione shot back, though she lost the fight against a smile, leaning on the table and sipping at her own mug. "I suppose a little note here or there isn't awful. But I don't want to keep looking down and seeing a pageful of how boring Professor Binns is."

"What if I write about how pretty you are and how I think you have lovely eyes?" Harry asked with a grin, and Hermione huffed, her fading blush returning in full force.

"You are—horrid!" she groused.

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Harry chuckled. "Mum, Uncle Sirius, Daisy—I'm starting to think I might be the problem."

Hermione snickered at that, and Harry winked at her as a plate of cakes floated toward their table, drifting gently to a landing between them along with two smaller saucers and two tiny forks.

"Oh, gingerbread cake," Harry said, sounding delighted as he served himself up a piece. "They had this around the holidays last year, it's great."

He scooped out a tiny forkful and pushed his plate toward Hermione, who took a bite herself and found herself quite enjoying the flavor. Sitting back, she spent a moment simply basking in the atmosphere of this place, in their warm and cozy corner with its lovely orange glow that chased away the horrible gray outside. It was perfect.

This was perfect.

"Rather tasty, then?" Harry asked with a chuckle, and Hermione shrugged.

"I'm just…," she trailed off with a pleased hum. "This is lovely."

"It is," Harry said with a nod, peering at her with those intensely green eyes that sent her heart fluttering just to look at. "Being friends with you, being…more than that now. Even getting to know Cho and Cedric and Marietta has been…different but kinda nice. For the past three years or so, it's just been me. And Daisy. But…"

"Being the reclusive Gryffindor seeker rather got lonely, hm?"

"Well, don't tell anyone," Harry said with a playful grin. "Got an image to keep up, after all."

"Of course," Hermione said. "Mum's the word."

"Oh, speaking of," Harry grumbled a bit. "Mum is going to be absolutely over the moon when she hears about this."

"About you finally getting a girlfriend?" Hermione asked, feeling once again the little thrill at the fact that she was someone's girlfriend.

Would that ever get old? She doubted it.

"And the fact that it's the girl that's been tutoring me in Arithmancy," Harry said. "This is the absolute perfect ending to it all, for her."

"And for you?" Hermione asked, taking another bite of cake and sliding it back toward him.

"Well, I certainly won't complain," Harry admitted with a chuckle. "Uncle Sirius always says, Potter lads need a smart woman to rein them in. Someone who can keep up with them and smack 'em around when they have to."

"Oh, then we're absolutely perfect for each other, aren't we?" Hermione told him with an impish smile. "A little stinging hex to the backside every once in a while to keep you in line?"

"What am I getting myself into?" Harry asked with a snicker, and Hermione poked her tongue out at him.

"I'm asking myself the same question," she said.

Of course, Hermione had to tell Cho and Marietta when she returned from Hogsmeade that things between the pair had become official (and they had kissed!), and news spread throughout the common room in one fell swoop upon Cho's jubilant shriek and subsequent giddy squeals.

Hermione wasn't exactly surprised, simply resigned.

Still, Parvati and Lisa enthusiastically congratulated her, but it didn't stop there. The very next day, she was stopped in the corridor by Fred and George Weasley, who also wished them well and told her to take good care of their seeker.

"Quidditch players can be rough to handle – "

"But you've a no-nonsense air about you, don't you?"

"Don't be afraid to give him a good smack every now and again – "

"Just leave him in one piece for practice," they finished in unison.

"What a couple of weirdos," Marietta muttered as the pair disappeared into the crowd of students around them.

"I've always liked them," Cho said. "Probably the best beaters Hogwarts has, but don't tell Jason and Duncan."

"I'm telling them," Hermione said immediately, and Cho snickered at her.

"Nooo, they'll never forgive me!" she said. "Hermione, you're so mean!"

"She has gotten a bit sassier, hasn't she?" Marietta pointed out. "Since she's started spending time with Harry."

"He's rubbing off on you," Cho giggled. "That's adorable!"

"Oh, hush, the both of you," Hermione huffed, even as a little smile quirked her lips. There was something gratifying in knowing she and Harry were mingling in such a way.

"So, you two have made it official," Cho said.

"And snogged," Marietta added.

"And snogged," Cho said. "Which—go Hermione, well done. D'you think this is a really real relationship? Or just a school fling?"

"Well—I dunno," Hermione said. "It feels…more than fling-like. This feels…like we're connecting, I suppose. I like being with him, being around him. Just talking to him."

"That sounds really real to me," Marietta said.

"We won't know for sure until they meet each other's parents," Cho said sagely. "If they can at least pretend to get on with the parents, that's long-lasting right there."

"Hermione's parents are muggles, though, right?" Marietta asked. "Can Harry get along with muggles?"

"His mum is muggle-born," Hermione said, trying to keep an edge from her voice at Marietta's words. She'd inherited her parents' rather dismissive attitude toward muggles, sadly, and it was frustrating at times.

"Well, he shouldn't do anything overly strange to weird them out, at least," Cho said, obviously trying to keep the peace. "And you and his mum have that in common, then."

"We have a lot in common, from what I'm hearing," Hermione said, grinning a bit. "She sounds lovely, I can't wait to meet her."

"Oh, she can't wait to meet his mum," Marietta said with a knowing grin. "Cho, this boy is definitely the one."

"I'd best be your maid of honor," Cho huffed, and Marietta giggled.

"If you have a muggle wedding," she said. "That would be interesting."

"I—we just started dating yesterday," Hermione said, deciding to once again ignore the subtle disdain in Marietta's comment. Honestly, a muggle wedding would only be natural, given Hermione's childhood spent in the muggle world and Harry's "foot in both worlds" upbringing. But to Marietta, the idea of doing anything the muggle way was a quaint little thought—silly Hermione, don't you know there's a better way of doing things now?

"This is really so wonderful, though," Cho said with a warm smile. "You and Harry, me and Ced—all we have to do is set Marietta up with someone!"

"I'm quite fine being single, thank you," Marietta said, but Cho had her sights set on the girl now. "Cho – "

"Weren't you and Zacharias Smith getting quite cozy together just the other night?" Cho asked her. "Chatting and whispering to each other?"

"We were not whispering!" Marietta shot back, her cheeks going a bit pink. "He was asking me for help with his Transfiguration essay."

"But why you specifically?" Hermione asked, jumping at the chance to get on Marietta's case. Marietta shot her a mutinous look, her mouth puckering in a pout.

"Because we have a rapport," she said. "Hermione's the one into younger blokes."

"No, I've already bagged mine," Hermione said with an impish smile. "It's not tease-worthy anymore."

"She's right," Cho said sagely. "Now it's you and Zacharias."

"I have absolutely no interest in him!" Marietta protested. "We just chat about Transfiguration sometimes!"

"Well, talking to you about his favorite subject…" Hermione said.

"Transfiguration isn't his favorite subject, Charms is," Marietta huffed. At this, Cho gasped with a wide smile, and Hermione shot Marietta a triumphant smirk. "Oh, you – "

"You know what his favorite subject is!?" Cho squealed. "That's promising!"

"Ugh, I'm happy for you, Hermione, but now that you're in dating bliss, she's just going to pester me," Marietta grumbled, and Hermione winked at her.

"And I for one can't wait," she said.

000

Two days after Hermione and Harry made things official, a retraction article was issued by Witch Weekly, apologizing for their libelous claims and personally attesting that Harry Potter was an upstanding lad of fine moral character. Rita Skeeter herself was vilified by the paper, which vowed to never publish another of her articles again. Similar claims were made in the following days by the Daily Prophet, Transfiguration Today, Seeker Weekly, and even The Herbologist's Quarterly, who also published a glowing article about Nevile Longbottom, citing him as "one of wizard society's finest up-and-coming herbologists".

"Boot-lickers," Harry muttered, the pair back to their usual loveseat in the corner of the lounge. "Uncle Sirius went completely postal on the Prophet and Witch Weekly, reminded them that he'd inherited all of his Uncle Alphard's business dealings, including a lot of stock owned in just about every wizard publication this side of the pond. It seems Alphard's great-great-grandfather invented the wizarding printing press."

"And he threatened to pull their funding," Hermione guessed. Harry grinned fondly out the window, and Hermione planted a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"He said if they ever printed another word against James Potter or any of his family, he'd take every last knut they have and invest it in The Quibbler," Harry went on, snickering and squeezing an arm around her. "I wouldn't want them to think I'm anything less than a gentleman to you, after all."

"Trying to protect my reputation?" Hermione asked, nestling against him and inhaling that wonderful scent of his once more.

"Someone's got to be the upstanding citizen in this coupling, and it won't be me," Harry chuckled.

"Somehow, I think you'll only be dragging me into trouble," Hermione told him with a smile, and he snickered.

"At least you're mentally prepared for it," he said.

Throughout the rest of the day, Harry was beset by apologies and (amusingly, to him) numerous assurances that classmates he'd never even spoke to before had been so sure the article had been utter nonsense. Professor Sprout, it seemed, even made it a point to stop him after Herbology and apologize for her earlier coldness toward him, citing a longstanding struggle with "gossip rags" as a weakness of hers.

When asked if he'd had anything to do with it, Cedric only admitted that he'd perhaps had a few loud conversations with his friends in the common room about how rubbish the article had been.

Hermione just wanted he and Harry to be best friends already.

000

Soon enough, it was the first day of the holidays, though one would barely be able to tell by looking at the Great Hall. Most everyone had stayed this year, with only a few of the third years and younger electing to go home. Daisy had even chosen to remain behind, though mostly to keep Mafalda company—her parents had written a letter detailing their upcoming holiday trip to Italy, and it had been not-so-subtly made clear multiple times that it was to be a couple's trip, with no mention made of accommodations for Mafalda whatsoever.

Mafalda's brisk tone as she'd claimed that Italy sounded boring anyway (and the slight shine to her eyes) had Hermione forming an instant and intense dislike for the poor thing's parents. Of course, she and Daisy had immediately set to making plans for a trip to France in the nonspecific future, Hermione recounting all of the fun things she remembered from her recent holiday with Mum and Dad until Mafalda's eyes had lost their sheen and instead gone wide with the imagined majesty of the Eiffel Tower, Placa de la Bourse, and the French Riviera.

It had been a singularly rewarding sight.

"Ced was telling me the other day that he's already gotten a good start on his clue for the next task," Harry said, pulling Hermione from her memories. The two were taking breakfast at the Gryffindor table again; it seemed no one questioned Hermione's presence anymore, and Fred and George always made a point to greet her with matching jaunty waves when she came by. "He's really taking this seriously."

"Well, he came in first place," Hermione said as she spooned some beans onto her plate. "That's probably given him a real morale boost. He's ready to dive in and keep that momentum."

"Harry," Daisy said, ambling up to the table with Mafalda in tow. The pair settled across from them, and Daisy slid a pamphlet toward her brother. "Should we go to the Louvre?"

"It's pronounced Louvre," Hermione said, and Daisy stuck her tongue out at her—Hermione, of course, returned the gesture, while Mafalda giggled at the pair. "It's a wonderful place to visit, though. I'd highly recommend it. Just looking at the Mona Lisa alone is an unforgettable experience. Knowing that you're looking at the original work of Leonardo Da Vinci himself is mind-boggling."

"Well, that's settled," Daisy said with a nod. "I want my mind boggled."

"Boggle is a fun word," Mafalda observed.

"Of course it is, dear," Daisy said, patting Mafalda's hand and sending her into a fit of giggles as she served herself some eggs.

"You're actually planning a holiday?" Harry asked with an amused look at the pamphlet, which seemed to be a wizarding tourism brochure of some sort.

"I already wrote Mum," Daisy said matter-of-factly. "She said she'd take care of it and to send her a list of places we want to visit. I've a stack of pamphlets I'll want you to look at later, by the way."

"What an enterprising young creature you are," Harry in flat tones, and Daisy flashed him an impish smile.

"Are you going to deny Mafalda a fun-filled holiday to France?" she asked, wrapping her arms around Mafalda's shoulders. The smaller girl peered up at Harry with wide eyes and egg dribbling down her chin, and Hermione snickered a bit as she saw Harry smiling quite fondly at her.

"How could I possibly do so and call myself any sort of good big brother?" he said. Mafalda looked especially pleased at that, wigging happily in her seat as she sipped at some orange juice. Scooting a bit closer, Hermione gently rested her head on Harry's shoulder, smooching his cheek.

"It's so precious when you're a good big brother," she said, and Harry's face went very slightly pink at her words.

"Well, lucky for you and these two, that's good incentive for me to keep doing it."

000

Christmas break was at first a pleasant blur. While Hermione normally grew fairly restless without the structure and stimulation of lessons and school life, she had much more meaningful distractions this year. The first week was spent on the occasional "Mistletoe Hunt", which was exactly what the name implied. It became a delightful pastime to walk the corridors of the school and thrill at the sight of another of the little decorations, only to find themselves a bit enthusiastically adhering to tradition.

Professor McGonagall happened upon them once, only clearing her throat softly and encouraging them to pick a more secluded spot for their "holiday activities". Hermione thought she might even have caught a small amused look on the woman's face as she strode away from the blushing pair.

When she wasn't snogging her new boyfriend, Hermione was anticipating the Yule Ball with equal parts unbearable eagerness and absolute dread. While there was a certain degree of apprehension at making sure she didn't do something silly to foul up the occasion, she was so looking forward to getting dressed up—her dress looked absolutely fabulous. Cho and Marietta had teased and toyed with her hair for hours one evening, sorting out the perfect style in preparation, and once that had been coupled with the gorgeous periwinkle blue gown she had picked out, even Hermione had to agree with Cho and Marietta's gushing claims that Harry's jaw would most certainly hit the floor.

Forget the shy thing that didn't think she could possibly land a bloke; Hermione Granger looked good.

But as Christmas Day drew nearer, she found her emotions ticking back and forth between both extremes at a rapidly-increasing staccato. Would Harry like her dress? She absolutely couldn't wait to dance with him! What if he thought she'd overdone it? Oh, there would be a garden full of lights and fountains to stroll through hand in hand! What if he was actually a really terrible dancer?

Well—that would actually be sort of charming; the graceful seeker with two left feet on the dance floor.

Still, every time things swung back to anxiety and unease, Harry was there with a little smile and a wink, telling her quietly that he couldn't wait for the ball, that he was actually even looking forward to it despite a general dislike of social gatherings.

If he was so confident they were going to have a good time, who was Hermione to doubt him?

Too soon but also after an interminable wait, the day was upon them. Christmas morning arrived brisk and with fat flakes of snow drifting past the dormitory window. Waking to the usual pile of presents at the foot of her bed, Hermione was delighted to see that a couple more had joined the stack. In addition to a Flourish and Blotts gift certificate from Mum and Dad (they had grown increasingly at a loss as to what to get their magical daughter over the years) and a brand-new makeup kit from Cho and Marietta (with a palette chosen especially for her), she saw that she had gotten presents not only from Harry (a book on American wizarding culture) but from Daisy (a basket of handmade Christmas treats that looked quite tasty) and even a small box from –

"His mum got me a gift?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Mm?" Cho murmured sleepily, still quite burrowed into her bedclothes. Only the black nest of her hair was visible peeking forth. "Whassat, Hermione?"

"Harry's mum got me a present," Hermione said, plucking up the gift and already setting to unwrapping it.

"Oh, that's interesting," Marietta spoke, emerging from the loo with a dressing robe on. "She must be trying to make sure the two of you work out."

"What'd she send you?" Cho asked, poking her head out of her covers and peering curiously over as Hermione unearthed a small silver locket on a fine chain. "Oh, that's pretty."

"It is," Hermione said, turning the jewellery over in her hands. There was a pale blue topaz set into the front, glinting faintly in the dim lighting of the dorm. It would actually go perfectly with her dress tonight. "Hm. I wonder if that's why Daisy was asking what color my dress would be."

"What a devious girl," Marietta said.

Setting the locket carefully on her bedside table, Hermione saw that Lily Potter had also included a Christmas card, which featured a picture of a vast assortment of people waving out at her from a grand-looking sitting room. Hermione saw Harry with his arm around Daisy, who was clutching fast to her big brother and beaming. Next to them was a woman with gorgeous copper hair, Harry's glimmering emerald eyes, and a warm and motherly smile on her face. Lily Potter was certainly beautiful, Hermione mused. Nearby, she recognized Remus Lupin from his time as their DADA professor last year, and the handsome-looking man with shaggy hair and a boyish smile on his face had to be the infamous Uncle Sirius. Next to him stood a statuesque woman with coal-black hair and dark eyes, and the pair each a hand on the shoulder of a girl no older than seven or eight, most likely the daughter Harry had mentioned Sirius having.

"Look at them all," Marietta said, peeking over Hermione's shoulder. "Big family."

"When his father was killed, Harry says they all sort of came together to support each other," Hermione said. "And they…stayed that way."

"That's wonderful," Cho said, clutching her blankets to her as she crawled from her bed.

"Like a massive blended family thing," Marietta said.

"Oh!" Cho gasped, rounding on Hermione. "You two should take a picture tonight at the ball and stick it in that locket!"

"Hm, perhaps I will," Hermione said, turning the card over and finding a handwritten note on the back in elegantly loopy writing. Curious, she read:

Dear Hermione,

Happy Christmas, darling! I hope you have loads of fun, and I hope my rotten, ungrateful little boy treats you well at the ball tonight. If he doesn't, you send me a letter and I'll let him have it.

I do hope I'm not being overbearing (would you believe I've been accused of it before?), but when I heard Harry had gotten himself a girlfriend, I knew I just had to play the embarrassing mum role I was born to. Thank you so much for helping him study and apply himself—I know he's brains in there, he just needs a push every now and again, you know.

And also, thank you for being a friend to him and helping him make other friends. He doesn't tell me much in his letters (when he bothers to WRITE them), but Daisy's told me he's spending more time with your friends, and he even helped Cedric Diggory with the Triwizard Tournament. That got us points with Amos Diggory, let me tell you. As did siccing Sirius on the press for trying to stir up drama with these gullible fools.

Anyway, I won't pack a whole speech about the failings of this society into a Christmas letter. I just wanted to say that I do hope we get to meet soon, and thank you for being such a lovely friend to my Harry.

Love from,

Lily Potter

P.S. The locket is a bit of handmade jewellery (I dabble in craftiness once in a while), so don't feel like I'm trying to trap with some old family heirloom. You and Daisy actually got matching ones this year.

Feeling perhaps a small bit choked up, Hermione set the letter aside, staring down at the locket and thinking that she couldn't wait to meet Harry's mum, to introduce him to her parents, all of the little minutiae that came with being in a relationship with him. Perhaps it was too soon to tell—perhaps they were too young for such thoughts—but she really felt that there was something undeniably real at work here. Being around Harry and being with him, it felt so perfectly nice. Was it so wrong of her as a lovestruck girl of fifteen to entertain fanciful notions of life together, of merging her small Granger family into the massive blend of Potters, Blacks, and a Lupin? Already, Daisy seemed to consider her a sister figure; maybe someday it would be real and Daisy would be her sister-in-law.

Maybe someday there would be a white dress draping behind her, Harry standing at the head of an aisle with his crooked smile and glimmering eyes, Cedric nearby as his best man and Cho awaiting as her maid of honor—and, she mused with a small giggle, Mafalda prancing about with flower petals.

"What's got you so giggly?" Marietta asked with a knowing smirk, and Hermione stuck her tongue out.

"I may or not be in love, is all," she sighed.

What was this rotten boy doing to her?


The next chapter will contain the Yule Ball and will with 98% certainty be the last one of this story. I don't need another long-runner in my lineup, thank you very much.

Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.