[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter!]
The falling snow dampened the sounds of the city around them, and for the first couple of blocks around Harry's house, they felt like they had the whole city to themselves. Unfortunately, the crowded A501 quickly punctured that balloon, but it was nice for a moment. By the time they arrived at Grimmauld Place, both of their cheeks were once again flushed from the cold and snow speckled their hair. The sight was enough to make Harry pause.
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "What–"
He silenced her with a passionate kiss. "You," he said they finished kissing approximately one full minute later, "look absolutely beautiful. I couldn't help myself."
She blinked, both out of confusion and a general daze from the kiss. "Me?"
"Of course." He offered her his arm again. "Who else?"
Hermione didn't respond verbally, but instead took his arm and lay her head against it for the last half-block or so of walking.
They didn't have to wait long at Sirius's door in the cold, since he threw it open almost immediately after Harry's knock. "Perfect timing, Pup!" he said. "I just came down to see if you were here yet." He gave Harry a huge hug, followed immediately by one for Hermione.
"It's been a busy morning," Harry said as Sirius ushered them inside. "How are things here?"
"The usual," Sirius said. "Remus and Kreacher are arguing about who gets to cook what in the kitchen, so I'm staying out of it and sipping mulled wine in the sitting room." He looked at Hermione. "And before you ask, 'Isn't it a bit early to be drinking?', the answer is 'no.'"
"I wasn't going to ask that," Hermione said.
Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "Yes, you were."
"Yes, I was." Hermione sighed. "You people have been a terrible influence on me."
Sirius beamed. "Haven't we just? You know, some mulled wine will help with that."
Now it was Hermione's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Will it, now?"
"Absolutely. Our terrible influence won't bother you nearly as much."
She thought about it for a moment. "You're not wrong," she said.
"That's good enough for me," Harry said. "Mulled wine for two, please."
"Coming right up," Sirius said. A few minutes later saw them sitting comfortably in the sitting room upstairs sipping on mulled wine.
"This is delicious," Hermione said. "Thank you. I'll need to pace myself or I'll be unconscious by suppertime, though."
"It's an old family recipe Kreacher knows," Sirius said. "I hated it when I was younger, but once I realised he was urinating in it I made him stop and stick to the recipe."
Hermione spit out her wine.
"He's just messing with you," Harry said as he drew his wand. "Tergeo," he said, and the wine vanished from the carpet. "Probably. Like I said before, just don't ask."
"And the best way not to think about something," Sirius said, "is more wine."
"I'm OK for now." Hermione eyed her glass warily.
Harry shrugged. "I wouldn't mind some more."
Remus came in just as Sirius was refilling Harry's cup. "Happy Christmas Eve," he said. "Do you all like the wine?" He had bags under his eyes but still seemed genuinely excited that they were there.
"It's delicious, thank you," Harry said. "I think Hermione liked it more before Sirius claimed Kreacher used to…um…adulter it."
The older man sighed. "Sirius, you can be a gigantic prat sometimes, do you know that?"
"Only sometimes?" Sirius faked a pout.
"Anyway," Remus said, ignoring him, "Kreacher hasn't done anything like that since we had our big fight with him after we took over the house ten years ago."
"He really did that sort of thing?" Hermione asked.
"He tried occasionally," Sirius said. "He'd only had a wizard painting of my mother for company for several years after my parents passed away, and my mother was an insane bitch who hated almost every other life form on this planet for some reason or another."
"Wait," Hermione said, "how can a painting keep him company?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Harry, haven't you introduced her to any wizarding paintings?"
"It never came up," Harry said. "Nev and Sue probably didn't because they didn't know if some of their relatives would approve of her. You know how the older generations could be about muggleborn."
"Believe me, I do," Sirius said. "There's no time like the present, then. Remus, do I have any paintings of relatives in here who weren't complete plonkers?"
The other man thought for a moment. "Not really. Maybe Phineas Nigellus. He's only kind of a plonker."
"Good enough." Sirius set down his wine and rose from his seat. "Come, Hermione. I'd like you to meet one of my great-great-grandfathers."
She shrugged and followed him, along with Harry and Remus, up to one of the unused bedrooms on the second floor. Sirius opened the door with his wand at the ready, which turned out to be a good call because a black cloud burst out of the chest of drawers as he stepped into the room.
Before Harry could react, the cloud coalesced into the broken corpses of a man who looked much like him, a slender woman with red hair, and a black-haired baby.
Harry's stomach lurched and Hermione gasped, but Sirius just growled. "Fuck you," he said. "Riddikulus."
Before their eyes, the corpses morphed into a platinum-blonde man, woman, and young man. All three were naked and appeared to have expired while performing questionable acts on one another. Sirius cackled evilly and the three corpses disintegrated into a swirl of black smoke that almost seemed to be sucked back into the chest of drawers.
"Fuck that thing," Sirius said. "Has anyone ever tried to kill one with Fiendfyre?"
"Sirius!" Remus said. "No Fiendfyre in the house!"
"Fine," he grumbled.
Harry had finally found his voice by then. "Your boggart is…"
"Your parents and you murdered by Riddle, yes," Sirius said. "I'm sorry you had to see that."
Hermione looked between them. "But…how…what even was that?"
"It was a boggart," Remus said. "An incorporeal spirit that feeds on fear. They're often attracted to unused spaces in the homes of old wizarding families, especially traditionally Dark ones like the Blacks. When you encounter one, it attempts to incapacitate you with your worst fear while it sucks away your magic. Sirius drove it away with the Boggart-Banishing Charm, which turns it into something you find harmlessly amusing."
"In this case," Harry said, "was that Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes," Sirius said. "After having managed to kill each other in an orgy accident."
Remus and Harry stared at him for a moment before laughing so hard they had to lean on each other for support.
"I don't think I get it," Hermione said.
"That's my bigoted arsehole cousin, her husband, and her son that went to school with Harry," Sirius explained.
"And whom I'm never going to be able to look in the face again," Harry said in between guffaws. "That was hysterical."
A smile crept across Hermione's face. "I admit that was legitimately funny," she said.
Remus managed to get himself under control and stood back up. "This is a great opportunity for Hermione," he said. "I won't have the opportunity to show her many Dark Creatures like this. Before we drive it from the house, can I use it for her practice?"
Hermione gulped.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Harry asked. "She's only just finished her Second-Year curriculum."
"I think she can do it," Remus said.
"I'll do my best." Hermione drew her wand. "How do I fight it?"
Remus led them back out of the room and closed the door. "That should lure it back out," he said. "Now, the incantation to stop one is Riddikulus. As you say it, point your wand at the creature and imagine it in something ridiculous. You need good concentration to picture this in your head through the fear it's creating, but you have fantastic concentration."
She blushed and allowed Remus to walk her through the minimal wand movement and the incantation. When he was satisfied, he motioned to the door. "I think you're ready. I'll follow you into the room in case you have trouble. Harry, I think it might be best if you stayed out here. A person's worst fear can be intensely personal, and if the boggart latches onto you, well, I'd rather not have her encounter a dementor."
Harry shuddered. "Good point."
"Your boggart is a dementor?" Hermione asked.
He nodded. "Yes. It was convenient for practising the Patronus Charm, but that's not something you want to expose most people to."
"That's awful!" Hermione gave Harry a quick hug.
Sirius put his hand on Remus's shoulder. "Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked.
Remus nodded. "I couldn't teach a full class today, but I can handle a boggart."
"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked. "You don't look well, but I didn't want to say anything."
"Tomorrow is the full moon," Remus said.
"Oh, right!" Hermione said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, I'm used to it," he said. "Now, are you ready?'
"Yes." She squared her shoulders and faced the door.
Remus opened the door for her. "I'll be right behind you," he said, "but I think you can do this."
She gritted her teeth and strode into the room. Harry couldn't see the form the boggart took, but a moment later he heard a man's voice.
"It was all a lie, you know," the man told Hermione. "You're nothing special. I can't can't wait for you to fail your O.W.L.s and come crawling back to me."
Hermione gasped and took a step back, but she didn't leave the room.
"You'll lose your position, of course, but I'll let you work as my assistant. You know, doing real research. You're no witch. You'll never be–"
"Riddikulus," Hermione shouted, and a thud reverberated through the house.
"Huh," Remus said. "I've taught dozens of students how to fight a boggart and that's the first time I've ever seen that happen."
Harry looked into the room. A couple of Boggart-man limbs were still visible on the floor, but most of it was covered by a giant black anvil. As Hermione flew into his arms, he couldn't help but laugh. "That's wonderful," he told her. "Great job."
"You don't think I'm stupid for fearing that, do you?" she asked him, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"Of course not," Harry said. "And you beat it in an awesome manner."
"Thank you," Hermione said. "It nearly got me, but I remembered how the Wiggenweld Potion I made you saved your life and realised I was a witch and nobody could ever take that away from me. That helped me focus on the spell."
"You did a great job," Harry said.
Sirius clapped her on the back. "I agree! I love the Bugs Bunny touch, too."
Remus strode back out of the room. "I banished the boggart from the house, but Phineas Nigellus seems to still be avoiding his portrait."
"That's fine," Sirius said. "She's been through enough today without inflicting one of my relatives on her. Let's go have some more mulled wine and then a nice dinner."
"Yes, please," Hermione said.
As Harry escorted her down the stairs and back to the drawing room, behind Remus and Sirius, she whispered, "Maybe that wasn't the best thing to do on Christmas Eve."
"I'm sorry," Harry said. He opened his mouth to explain why none of them were all that good at celebrating Christmas, but thought better of it and kept quiet.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered. "Were you about to provide another example of why you need better reference points?"
"Maybe," he whispered back.
She sighed and gripped his arm tighter.
Fortunately, the gift exchange was next, which Harry thought would be a great distraction from Dark Creatures and any part he might have played in introducing them to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve. They all settled in together on one big chesterfield, and naturally Sirius said "We'll go first!" as soon as they'd all sat down.
Harry rolled his eyes. In response to slightly raised eyebrows from Hermione, he said, "Sirius wants to start every year."
"Only because I can't wait to see your face," Sirius said. He and Remus gave Harry a cubic box about one foot on a side wrapped in wrapping paper covered in gaudy Christmas trees and elves.
"Once again, you've outdone yourself with the wrapping," Harry said.
"Thanks! Last year was a great year for terrible wrapping paper," Sirius said.
Remus shot his husband a fond smile. "Sirius has a whole system worked out for finding the gaudiest possible wrapping paper. Every year, he waits until the week after Christmas when places have the wrapping paper they couldn't sell on clearance and finds the worst of the lot."
"I see it as letting the other shoppers clean out the rolls I don't want," Sirius said. "It's so much easier to find terrible wrapping paper when the good stuff has been sold."
"That's quite clever," Hermione said. "I mean, the results are hideous, but I can't find fault with your methods."
"Good, because your gift is next," Sirius said. "First, though…" he gestured to Harry. "Oh, and you'll want to open that on the floor."
"Sure." Harry picked up the box and set it on the floor next to the coffee table, eyeing it warily. Christmas surprises from someone as inventive as Sirius could be any combination of wonderful, terrifying, and injurious.
The box was easy to open and didn't explode or burst apart, which was a good start. After one unfortunate incident in the late '90s they'd all agreed to forego jump scares in presents, but Harry knew Sirius well enough to be worried that he hadn't been able to resist putting one in anyway.
Instead, the sides of the box fell away and revealed what appeared to be a tiny wooden cabinet. "A miniature?" Harry asked.
"Not exactly," Remus said. "Stand back."
Harry stood and took a step back, at which point Remus Finite'd the miniature and it sprang back to its normal height of roughly four feet tall and eighteen inches on a side.
"A cabinet?" Harry asked.
"No," Sirius said. "A hand-cranked Victor Victrola. It'll play just fine in a magical household–we checked. And the cabinet inside is full of shellac 78s that will play on it."
"This is amazing, thank you!" Harry said. "It'll be nice to have some music in the house."
"You're welcome, Pup," Sirius said. "It was your witch's idea."
Remus nodded. "She introduced me to Mr. Folkes, who said he never used this and had been considering selling it for years."
"Well, thank you all, then." Harry gave each of them a hug. "That's a great gift."
"I'm glad you like it," Remus said. He recast the Shrinking Charm on the Victrola, resealed the box, and recast the Lightening Charm on the box. "There you go. Now you can take it home easily."
"Good idea," Harry said. "So that was from all three of you?"
"Only us," Sirius said. "Hermione has something else for us. Speaking of the witch, it's her turn for a present."
"You really didn't need to get me anything," Hermione said. "You've all done too much for me already."
"The whole point of a gift is that it's not given out of obligation." Remus pulled out a flat present and handed it to Hermione. "Now unwrap your present so we can see how you look in it."
Hermione blushed and unwrapped what turned out to be a dark brown capelet made of heavy crushed velvet. "This is beautiful," she said, "but it's really too much."
"We didn't spend a pence," Sirius said. "My mother was a much larger woman than you are and that was hers when she was a girl. She would have hated the thought of a muggle-born witch wearing it, so of course we had to give it to you when we noticed–"
Remus coughed.
"When Remus noticed your coat seemed a bit big on you," Sirius continued. "So you get a capelet that fits and I get to posthumously stick it to my mother. Everyone wins."
Hermione looked down at the capelet in her hands and stared silently at it. After a moment, Harry asked, "Is anything wrong?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful. You're right; my coat is too big for me and I knew that when I bought it. My previous coat from my parents was much nicer, but they bought it for me when I started uni and it got ripped too badly to fix it again two years ago. I couldn't afford to replace it and I didn't want to go crawling to my parents for help, so I resigned myself to being cold until someone brought that into another stall in the market just after Boxing Day. It didn't quite fit, but it kept me warm. Every time I put it on was a reminder that I couldn't afford anything that did fit."
She rose to her feet and pulled the capelet over her shoulders. "This fits perfectly and looks beautiful," she said, "but I feel like I'm letting go of one of the biggest pieces of my past life by putting on this witchy-looking, gorgeous capelet."
Harry took one of her hands in his own. "Hermione, you're a witch, and a gorgeous, powerful one at that. You belong in this capelet just as much as you belonged in that coat you scraped together the money for."
"And my mother would be furious," Sirius said.
"And his mother would be furious," Harry said. "It's important to keep our priorities in order."
Hermione nodded, the stillness of her solemn face broken only by an impish golden twinkle in her brown eyes. "I understand. I'll wear this as much as possible to annoy Sirius's late mother. That it's beautiful and fits me perfectly doesn't enter into it."
"Excellent," Sirius said. "Your sacrifice in the cause of cheesing off my mother is noted. As a token of my appreciation, you can keep the Potions book you nicked from my library."
"Eep!" Hermione turned bright red. "I'm sorry! I was going to give that back tonight! It's right there in my bag."
"It's alright, really." Sirius laughed. "It's not like any of us particularly enjoy brewing, either, especially not anything that advanced."
"Advanced?" Remus asked. "What did she borrow?"
Hermione sheepishly withdrew an ancient copy of Moste Potente Potions and passed it to Remus. The worn leather binding flexed in her hands and just a bit flaked off as the old book changed hands.
"I've heard of this book," Remus said. "I doubt there's a recipe in here below N.E.W.T.-level difficulty, and most are mastery-level. Were you reading to see if it contained any useful principles you could apply at a lower level?"
"Not exactly," Hermione said. "I wanted to get you all something really nice for Christmas and Professor Tonks mentioned how much trouble you could have gotten into had you had access to Polyjuice Potion in school, so knowing how much you all still like to cause trouble, I made you some." She withdrew the small box from her purse, opened it, and laid it on the coffee table in front of them. Inside, three vials of a dark, muddy-looking potion rested on a bed of shredded and crumpled pink newspaper.
Sirius's jaw dropped. "This…is one hell of a prank, kid. The key is making them plausible, though. What does it really do?"
"Um…turn you into someone else, once you add something from their body," she said. "Sorry, I thought you'd know what it was."
"He does." Harry took one of Hermione's hands in his own. "It's that he doesn't believe you. Do you have any idea how advanced this potion is?"
She shrugged. "It took quite some time, so I suppose pretty advanced."
"If it didn't take so long to brew, it would probably be a good test for N.E.W.T.-level students," Harry said. "You just finished your Second-Year curriculum."
Remus nodded and picked up one of the vials. "That you could even attempt this is remarkable," he said. "And the appearance is correct for you to have succeeded." He unstoppered the vial and took a long sniff. "As is the smell. This is truly amazing."
"Bloody hell," Sirius said. "It's one thing to say 'she's a genius,' but to see evidence like this is just something else. Not one in ten witches or wizards in Britain could brew this potion and you didn't know about magic four months ago."
"I just followed the instructions," Hermione said, shrinking back from the praise and attention.
"The ability to do so is not universal," Harry said drily. "We still don't know how Neville caused half of the accidents in Potions Class that he did. Most of us probably would have levelled my house had they tried to brew this."
"I didn't realise it was so dangerous," Hermione said.
"For you, it wasn't," Harry said. "For the rest of us, yes." He shook his head. "My gifts can't compete with this."
"Don't worry, Pup," Sirius said. "Quantity of gifts has a quality all its own, so hand 'em over."
Hermione shot Remus and Harry a pleading look. "Did he…did he just quote…about Christmas gifts?"
Harry had no idea what she was talking about and just shrugged, but Remus shook his head. "Probably not, which somehow makes it worse. Best not to think about it, my dear."
"OK." Hermione shuddered.
Sirius ignored the whole conversation, but the impish twinkle in his eyes made Harry wonder if he knew exactly what he'd done…whatever it was.
"Anyway," Harry said, "here's my usual gift to Sirius." He passed over a pair of large, gaudily wrapped books, which Sirius opened eagerly.
"Thank you!" Sirius said. "I look forward to these every year."
"What are those?" Hermione asked.
"Sirius isn't allowed to go to muggle newsstands anymore after an incident we won't discuss during the holidays," Harry said. "So every month I buy a copy of Playboy and Playgirl for him, and at the end of the year I have them bound properly and give them to him as a gift."
"These are great magazines," Sirius added. "I learn so much about muggle culture from the articles, and when I get bored of reading–"
"Every page or two," Remus muttered.
"I can look at attractive naked people," Sirius continued.
"So you read them for the articles?" Hermione asked, smirking.
"Yes, I do." Sirius nodded.
"You realise that it's a muggle joke that everyone claims to read those for the articles and lies, right?" Hermione asked.
"Why?" Sirius asked. "They're good articles."
She sighed. "I admit it. I still can't tell when he's having me on."
"I'm not sure any of us can." Harry patted her shoulder and passed Remus a smaller and more conservatively wrapped book.
Remus carefully opened the paper and stared at the leather cover of the book in his hand. "Sakurai Keiichi's latest monograph on Counter-Curses? I didn't know this was available in English yet!"
"It wasn't." Harry grinned. "I found an eccentric publisher in the old magical community in Buffalo, New York who needed the work and underwrote half of the translation in exchange for a 60% share of the profits after he covers his printing costs. Sakurai-sensei was happy to licence it to us, especially since he usually only gets 10% royalties on his translated works in the English-speaking world and I offered him 15%."
"This is too much, Harry!" Remus said.
"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "I'll probably earn back most of what I spent on the translation in a few years, and I got to read it, too."
Remus reached over and hugged him. "This is a wonderful gift, thank you."
"I think Miss Granger is being a bad influence on you," Sirius said. "Buying him academic books is one thing, but actually reading them?"
She arched her eyebrows at Sirius. "You, Sirius Black, are accusing someone else of being a bad influence?"
"Yes, because you're being a good influence. Which is bad. Harry needs more good influences in his life, by which I mean bad ones," Sirius said.
"So…is she bad or good?" Harry asked.
"Good. And that's bad," Sirius replied.
Hermione put her head in her hands. "This is my fault. I was the one who asked him."
"See? She gets it." Sirius leaned over and patted her shoulder, but she didn't look up. "You know what would help?"
"Mulled wine," they all said simultaneously.
Kreacher popped up next to the table. "Kreacher understands the need for intoxicants to deal with Master," he said as he conjured four glasses and filled them with wine.
"Thank you," Harry said, but the old elf just grumbled.
"Before you go," Sirius said, "let me give you your gift." He reached down and passed Kreacher a thick, rolled-up parchment with a bow on it. "Four feet of parchment on the life and accomplishments of Ophiucus Black from Remus, Harry, and me."
Kreacher took the parchment and nodded. "Kreacher thanks Master for the gift and hopes to live long enough to see Master and his Heir comprehend even a fraction of the greatness of House Black, but Kreacher recognizes the futility of this hope." He inclined his head briefly to Harry and popped away again.
"I can explain," Harry told Hermione, who appeared to be so confused that she couldn't even formulate a question. "The only thing Kreacher enjoys in life is talking about the superiority of the House of Black, so every year we write him a long essay about the accomplishments of one of the family members. We don't even have to put them in a good light, because the things we might think were unpleasant–"
"Slaughtering a village full of muggles because they burned a squib to death," Sirius offered.
"Exterminating an entire species of troll," Remus added.
"Experimenting with the Imperius Curse on unwilling subjects," Sirius said.
"Drinking only red wine, even with fish courses," Remus said.
"Anyway," Harry said, dragging the conversation back on track, "Kreacher tends to think those are all good things, so we don't even have to lie to him."
"Um…that's good, I guess," Hermione said. "I mean, it's Christmas, so I'm glad he's happy, but…is anyone else worried about what makes him happy?"
"All of us are," Remus said, "but he's hundreds of years old and is unlikely to change his mind in the space of a few decades."
Hermione blinked. "Hundreds…I'm still not used to the Wizarding World yet, am I?"
"It takes awhile," Harry said. "Non-human creatures can be especially difficult to wrap your head around, which I suspect is why most Magicals don't even try."
She shook her head. "I'm tempted to join them some days. Do I even want to know what you got Dobby?"
"No," Harry said.
"I promise I won't get mad," Hermione said.
Harry arched his eyebrows at her. "I don't believe you."
"I do," Sirius said.
"No, you don't," Remus said.
"Of course I don't," Sirius said, "but she's hilarious when she's angry…at someone who's not me, I mean."
"I really won't," Hermione said.
Harry sighed. "I told him I'd invite at least four more people over to supper, let him cook a five-course meal for all of us, and clean it up afterward."
"I promised I wouldn't be mad at you," Hermione said. "I'm gradually understanding the ways in which house elves aren't humans, but that isn't coming naturally to me. Sirius's last comment is making it easier to not be mad at you, though, so thank you, Sirius."
Sirius crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's mean. I'm going to play things closer to the vest from now on."
They all stared at him. First Remus started laughing, then Harry, and finally Hermione…followed by Sirius.
"Yeah," Sirius said, "I couldn't keep a straight face for that, either." He raised his glass. "To the greatest gift of all: being able to spend time with you."
They all toasted one another and the evening passed away in a manner much like the wine: warm and pleasant, with just a touch of spice (due mostly to Sirius's occasional reminders about his desire for grand-godchildren to buy extravagant Christmas gifts for). After a Sunday Roast with all of the trimmings for dinner and a dessert of sticky toffee pudding a la mode, Harry and Hermione bid Remus and Sirius farewell and made their way back home.
The snow had stopped falling by the time they left the house and the air was crisp and clear…well, crisp and clear for London, at least.
"I love these moments right after the snow falls," Harry said as they walked. "Everything is so calm and white. In a few hours, it'll start to go grey and by tomorrow we'll probably be trudging through dirty slush, but right now, it's wonderful."
"It really is," Hermione said. "Thank you for sharing your family Christmas Eve with me."
"We were all happy to have you," Harry said. "I think you've brought a lot to our lives in the last few months." He chuckled. "That first week you stayed in Grimmauld Place, Remus told me it was your idea to wait up for me for dinner. That was…nice. None of us had great examples growing up of what a loving family was like, and I didn't realise how much of it was simply habit until you showed me."
"Habit?" Hermione asked as they waited for the walk signal across the A501.
Harry nodded. "Just getting into good habits, like seeing each other regularly or catching up on what we're doing with our lives. It's helping us all grow together rather than apart."
"I'm glad," she said, reflected light from the streetlights glowing warmly in her eyes.
"It's just…" Harry paused till they finished crossing the street, then looked at her. "Tomorrow is the first time you're either going to see or talk with your parents since you moved in. You know how important it is, and…you're not doing it."
"You're not wrong." The warmth in her demeanour and voice were gone.
"Then what–"
"My parents and I have exactly the kind of relationship they want us to have," Hermione said.
They walked on in silence for a few minutes before Harry spoke again. "Do you want me to go with you tomorrow?"
"No, thank you," Hermione said. "I need to do this myself."
"Alright," Harry said. "If you're sure."
"Absolutely. Will you be alright alone on Christmas?" Hermione asked.
"Don't worry about me," Harry said with a wave of his free hand. "It's nice to have a day of quiet after the family party every year. Normally, Sirius enjoys the chance to scandalise all of the stuffy Purebloods at the Ministry Yule Ball, but if I showed up I'd just get a bunch of annoying attention from people who want to fawn over my accomplishments or congratulate me for my parents' deaths. This year, of course, they're not going because of the full moon the next day, but the end result for me is the same."
"If you're sure," Hermione said.
"Absolutely," Harry said.
She bit her lower lip in thought for a moment as they walked. "You think I'm lying, don't you?"
"Of course," he said. "Do you think I'm lying?"
"Of course." She shot him an impish smile that faded quickly. "I hate to see you alone on Christmas, but solitude is better than my parents, trust me."
"I can't say I'm happy to let you go, then," Harry replied. "I don't care if I'll enjoy it; would me being there help you?"
Hermione shook her head. "It would probably just make them trust my decision even less."
"I understand." Harry shot her a rueful grin. "Well, at least nobody there is going to expose you to a Boggart at what is supposed to be a holiday party."
She shrugged. "I considered being annoyed about that, but I decided it's an occupational hazard of being close to you three. You'd probably have to be the kind of person to think nothing of using a holiday party as a horrifying educational opportunity to also see someone being hunted by an unknown number of dangerous enemies and think she'd make a good houseguest."
"Putting a roof over your head was hardly heroic," Harry said.
"So you're saying anyone else would have felt the presence of that beacon and done the same?" Hermione asked.
"Well…"
"I thought not."
"You don't have to sound so smug about it," Harry said.
"I do when I'm attempting to convert a nonbeliever in my boyfriend's awesomeness," she said.
Harry had to laugh at that…and he also had to pull her close and kiss her.
She didn't seem to mind.
