When the Gryffindor girls had all settled, wrapping themselves in thick dressing gowns and fluffy socks, Lavender Brown went around and handed them all cups of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows, as Parvati's wily charms had failed to convince the boys to part with any of the Butterbeer bottles that they had liberated from the Yule Ball.
Fay Dunbar was sat next to Hermione on her bed, with the other girls set to face them on Fay's bed next to it. Accepting her hot chocolate from Lavender, Fay frowned at her fellow witch's open dressing gown.
"Lavender … have you not got any knickers on?" Fay quirked. "I can see your pubes through that cotton, you know?"
"So?" Lavender shrugged. "We've all got them. Besides, there should be no secrets between girls. And, after all that dancing tonight, my minge is sweaty and needs an airing."
Parvati snorted out her hot chocolate as Lavender flopped down on Fay's bed next to her.
"Lav!" Parvati cried, scandalised. "That is vile!"
"What? It does," Lavender replied, shamelessly. "I'm not the skinniest witch, as you know. And just because I don't have any knickers on doesn't mean you can look, Fay!"
Fay smirked as Lavender winking teasingly at her. "I wouldn't worry about that. My date didn't exactly go well. Maybe dating witches is something best left to being older, when half the people around you don't look at you as if you've sprouted a second head."
"You didn't get on then, you and your Beauxbatons girl?" Parvati asked.
"It wasn't that, but I don't think she liked people talking about us," Fay sighed. "I suppose that sort of thing might happen a bit more at an all-girl school, but we were the only same-sex partners there. She went back to her friends half way through the night and never came back."
"That's her loss," Hermione told her, loyally. "How did you get on with the Durmstrang boy, Lavender?"
"Not much better," she replied, sadly. "He didn't want to talk a lot ... he was more interested in getting a bit handsy with me. I didn't mind so much, but he was a bit brutish about it. Then I got a paper-cut from him."
"A paper-cut?" asked Fay. "How in the world did that happen?"
"Dimitar was carrying around a piece of card in his back pocket and I caught my knuckles on it," Lavender explained. "Then I got a little stab from a pencil he had attached to the card. I made a joke about it, something like asking if he was going off to play golf after the Ball, then he got all huffy and stormed away. I didn't see him again after that."
Hermione bit the edge of her mug as Lavender told her story. She wondered if she ought to tell them that this sounded exactly like what had happened with Sally-Anne Perks and Viktor Krum, but as Harry hadn't given her permission to divulge the information she just sipped her hot chocolate and stayed silent.
"What a clown," Fay spat. "How about you, Pav? Did your date go any better?"
"It was alright," Parvati replied. "Nothing special. Terry Boot was a bit dull, to be honest. Nice to look at, but not much of a conversationalist. But nevermind that, he's not the Ravenclaw date we are here to talk about!"
"Yeah," Lavender nodded, her eyes lighting up. "Come on, Sly Miss Cross over there … clear your throat and tell us all about you and a certain Boy-Who-Lived that you've been keeping all these secrets about!"
Parvati and Fay hooted out twin giggles at that, and Hermione buried her head in her mug to hide the deep flush that was spreading over her cheeks. Composing herself a second, she finally looked up at the others.
"I have been keeping lots of secrets about Harry, but some of them are very personal to him, and there is no way on Heaven or Earth that I'd tell you those," Hermione began. "So if you try and ask, I'll just keep ignoring you."
"Fair enough," Parvati conceded. "But there must be some stuff that you can tell us."
"Yeah, especially about how you came to be dates for this evening," Lavender pressed on keenly. "That's the juicy part we all want to know."
"Well, it wasn't all romantic or anything, if that's what you're thinking," Hermione replied. "It was just that Harry was approached by Viktor Krum, who told him that he was going to ask me to the Ball and wanted to know if Harry had a problem with it, because Krum often saw us studying together in the library. Harry basically had a bit of a row with him about it, told him to back off, then said that he was already going with me, which he wasn't at the time. I heard the whole thing from behind a bookcase."
"Aww," Lavender cooed girlishly. "Excuse me, Hermione, but that is very romantic. Potter coming to your defence like that."
"Yeah, I'd love a fit boy like that to come riding to my rescue," Parvati agreed, bitterly.
"Easy, Pav," Fay teased. "Keep your comments about Potter neutral. We don't know what other secrets Hermione hasn't told us about them yet."
"Oh, of course!" Lavender crowed gleefully. "Is he your boyfriend now?"
Hermione blinked crazily at the very idea. Had that been what they'd looked like tonight? Hermione shivered pleasantly with the enormity of what it could mean if they had. But she parked such ideas for the night. Her cheek was still tingling from where Harry had kissed it, and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to handle the thought of him one day kissing her heart, too.
So she had to stay firmly within the bounds of reality. "No, Harry isn't my boyfriend. We're just friends."
"That wasn't how it looked to us," Fay smirked. "Nor the rest of the school. The way you two were holding each other when you slow-danced … it was ... wow, just wow. It was so intimate even the Slytherins were swooning. Well, maybe! But you know that's all everyone will be talking about for weeks?"
"Really?" Hermione hushed weakly. "Oh, I hope not. Harry will be so annoyed by that. He hates being gossiped about."
"I wouldn't worry, I bet he knows it's coming," Fay soothed. "And you couldn't hope to have anyone better suited to help you deal with all the nonsense."
"It's more than that too," Lavender added. "He can't have had too much of a problem with being talked about in relation to you … after all, he kissed you! And he did it right in front of your friends. Only a boy who's totally gone on a girl wouldn't care about something like that. Giving you a kiss was just that important to him."
"Yeah," Parvati nodded in agreement. "You should have gone after him and given him a proper kiss, on the mouth and everything. Most people would have, after that."
Hermione dropped her jaw in horror. "Oh … is that what I should have done? Do you … do you think that Harry would have been expecting me to? Did I let him down by not doing that?"
"Maybe not expecting, but probably hoping," Fay smirked. "I mean, we all heard him say how beautiful he thought you looked, and what boy wouldn't want to be kissed by a girl they think is beautiful?"
Hermione was half-pacified by that. Perhaps it would have been the done thing to go after Harry, but maybe it wasn't right for them just then. It might have been a bit much. Even so, Harry had told Hermione she was beautiful … and that was more than enough to bring a warm smile to her face.
"Despite all that, though," Lavender ploughed on. "You still haven't said how this all came about in the first place. We've never seen you with Harry … you don't stop and chat at meals, you don't have any classes with him, nothing. So how did it come to be that he was fighting over you with Viktor Krum?"
That phrase only intensified the warmness in Hermione's cheeks, spreading it down her neck and throughout her body. It was such a lovely sensation.
"Harry and I decided to become penpals," Hermione confessed. "We were discussing the Hogwarts Penpal Club in the library a couple of months ago, and that conversation led to us agreeing to be penpals with each other. And then it, sort of, went from there."
"Wait a minute, let me get this straight," Lavender frowned. "You were discussing an anonymous penpal scheme, then agreed to start writing to each other, even though you both knew who you'd be writing to?"
"Yes, that's pretty much it," Hermione confirmed.
"And did you fancy each other before that, or …" Lavender teased.
"Fancy? What are you talking about?" Hermione protested defensively.
"You became pen-friends with a famous wizard, who barely speaks to anyone, then you exploded at the rest of our House when they were giving him a hard time," Parvati took over. "And now you know things about him, I'm guessing, that literally no-one else knows, or is even ever likely to know. And he was happy for you to do that. As far as I see it, at least one of you fancies the other one, I'm just trying to work out which one it is, or if it's both."
"It's both," Fay nodded, solemnly. "I refer back to the slow-dance as evidence!"
"And the kiss, don't forget the kiss," Lavender added playfully. "What did that feel like, Hermione?"
"Soft … his lips were maddeningly soft, especially for a boy," Hermione whispered, still trying to wrap her mind around the things that the girls were suggesting about her and Harry. It seemed too fantastical to be considered at all, but still … there it was. And there seemed to be some root to the concept. Hermione just wondered how deep that root went into herself. She needed to be alone to analyse it.
"So, when are you seeing him next?" Lavender ploughed on, relentlessly. "For there must be a next time, surely?"
"We've agreed to go to the Hogsmeade Christmas Market together," Hermione replied, before adding a little dopily, "He's going to buy me a toffee apple."
"A toffee apple?" Fay giggled. "You two are so dorky, it's adorable, really."
"The Christmas Market is a whole week away, though," Parvati funned. "How will you stand to be away from him till then?"
It was a valid question, one that caused a dull ache to be born in Hermione's chest. The subdued but pressing, half-happy, half-painful sensation - which had been slaked by being near to Harry for the Yule Ball - had returned from it's slumber and taken residence above her heart again. Hermione didn't know how to explain it, or what she might to do make it go away. The only antidote seemed to be Harry ... and he was too far away to ask for a soothing massage.
But the idea of Harry massaging Hermione's chest made her tremble, in a very grown-up-girl sort of way, which just wasn't appropriate at all.
"We have end of term exams next week, that's all I'll be thinking about," Hermione replied, knowing how the lie was a pathetic one, even in her own mind. Exams dominating her thoughts instead of Harry! What a nonsense notion! She swatted it aside like an annoying fly. "After that, I'll have a nice day out with him before we go home for Christmas."
"Well, if you aren't kissing him properly by the time we board the Express, I think we'll all be very disappointed in you, Hermione," Fay quirked. "And that reminds me … I have to go and see the Weasley twins before I go to bed. They owe me a lot of Galleons for winning the Betting Pool, you know!"
Over the weekend the Great Hall was out of use for normal activities, as the space was put back to rights after the Yule Ball. The house-elves could be seen merrily sweeping up piles of confetti and streamers and broken Butterbeer bottles, removing the little round tables to the storage chamber via the door in the far corner, and scrambling over scaffolds to take down the stage erected for The Weird Sisters. Occasionally, one of the elves would push one of his fellows from the scaffold, and belly laugh as he bounced away like an ugly, mis-shapen rubber ball, only for the victim to run back with raucous laughter, hell-bent on exacting a suitable revenge.
Hermione watched all this on Sunday morning, after she had been out for her usual walk through the gardens, that Hagrid tended so diligently even in the Winter. She had been careful to avoid the glare of the castle for all of Saturday, vainly hoping that the gossiping tongues might stop wagging if she hid away for a few days. But she liked to start her day with a brisk stroll, so snuck out while everyone was eating breakfast in their Common Rooms, confident that she wouldn't meet anyone on the way.
Though she was glad to be proven wrong when she actually did run into someone on her way back to Gryffindor Tower.
For Harry was on his way back up from the shadowy corridor that led towards the kitchens when Hermione spotted him. Heart fluttering wildly at the sight of him, and with all the events of the Yule Ball, as well all the deconstruction of it with her dorm mates and in her own daft mind still fresh in her head, Hermione was rendered a bit inert as Harry approached her.
And if his reaction on seeing her was any indicator, he hadn't been dwelling on other subject for the last thirty-six hours either.
"Hermione?" he cried in surprise, as though amazed that any human was alive and in front of him, let alone her. Then he simply came to an abrupt halt, a good few feet away from her. There was something about the fire that ignited in his eyes as they fell on her that caused Hermione's throat to constrict. She could barely get the words out when she finally replied.
"M-morning, Harry," she muttered. "I didn't expect to see anyone up this early."
"I've just gone to get Luna some breakfast," Harry explained, holding up the items he was carrying. "She's only been eating things that begin with the letter 'B' this week … don't ask, she does quirky things like this from time to time … but everyone ate all the bread before she could get to it. So I've gotten her a bacon bagel and a blueberry muffin from the kitchens, because she was quite upset. Plus, I don't want her to go hungry, obviously."
"Ahh, the three 'B's," Hermione grinned. "Good choices."
"I don't know about the three 'B's, but I'm fairly certain she has OCD if no another letters!"
"Don't we all," Hermione quirked. "You're very good to her, you know?"
"Someone needs to be," Harry mumbled back, scuffing his shoe shyly. He still didn't know how to accept compliments properly, especially from Hermione. Looking for a change of subject, he finally remembered how his feet worked and walked along the corridor to her, resisting the urge to stand too close, no matter how overpowering it was. "What are you doing?"
"Just watching the elves," Hermione frowned. "It's so wrong how they are slave-driven like this. Someone ought to do something about it. I heard they don't even get paid."
"That does sound wrong," Harry scowled in agreement. "But I cant say I know enough about how the situation works. I'd hate to think that it was slavery, like you said. But there could be another explanation."
"Such as?"
"The school provides them a safe haven, so that the unscrupulous magical families don't take them and exploit them?" Harry suggested. "And in return, they cater for the students and staff and do maintenance and stuff. It might be a mutually beneficial set up, and nothing sinister."
Hermione rolled her lips thoughtfully. Harry's eyes were drawn to the momentary flash of moist pink as she did this, and his own mouth dried as a blast of shocked air swept through it. Harry shook off the sensation as Hermione began to speak.
"I suppose you could be right," she mused. "I can't imagine that Dumbledore would permit them to be so exploited."
"I'd hope not, but then again, Dumbledore might be a master manipulator of humans and creatures alike!" Harry teased. "He certainly seems the type."
"How does he?" Hermione laughed. "He's genial and eccentric, not malicious like that."
"Maybe it's all a cover," Harry replied, wrinkling his nose playfully. "You'd never suspect him, would you? I bet he has a harem of Veela trapped in a cage in his office, that he lets out every night after the students are in bed to have their wicked way with him!"
Hermione hooted out a giggle. "Ooh, can you imagine?"
"I'm actually trying not to," Harry retorted, seriously. "It's enough to make you see your breakfast again … and I haven't even eaten!"
Hermione chuckled again, then frowned in genuine seriousness. "If you haven't eaten, you should. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so I wont keep you."
"Is that an order?" Harry grinned, cheekily.
"Yes it is," Hermione replied stoutly, her eyes flecked with light. "Now go on with you, before Luna's bagel gets cold."
"Yes, miss! Merlin, you are so bossy."
"This is what you signed up for, no turning back now," Hermione returned, piously.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry grinned. "Alright, I'm going. Do you want to come upstairs with me?"
"Excuse me!" Hermione squeaked out in surprise. Harry just smirked at her.
"I meant, if you're going back to Gryffindor Tower, shall we walk together to the Fifth Floor, where I can go off to the better tower, you know … my one."
"Ho ho ho," Hermione drawled, rolling her eyes amusedly at Harry's gentle ribbing.
"You're a bit too early to start being Santa Claus … you'll only have to wait a couple of weeks, though," Harry teased as they started walking.
Then for the first couple of floors, they said nothing at all. Harry took up the mantle to break the silence. He cleared his throat and looked over cautiously.
"I had a really good time the other night. Did you?"
Hermione smiled brightly, but was too shy to look Harry in the face as the memories bloomed again in her mind. "You know I did. I told you so."
"But you might have changed your mind in the meantime," Harry quirked.
"Hardly! I'm not that fickle!"
"Well, that's good. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"I did," Hermione beamed, finally looking at him. "I very much did."
"Good. At least I wasn't an awful date for you," Harry muttered, bashfully.
"You were not awful … you were the best. Better than I even hoped for," Hermione replied with a searing blush. "You did all the right things … you certainly said all the right things. About them … do you still mean them, here, in the cold light of day?"
Hermione hitched what she foolishly believed was a neutral look onto her face, but her rapid blinking gave away her sense of inner hope.
Harry just smiled warmly at her. "Of course I do. I'm not that fickle."
Then they both smiled to themselves and looked straight ahead, tongue-tied by the raging emotion passing between them. Looking into the face of the other was simply impossible in such a state.
So they soon found that they reached the Fifth Floor without saying anything else at all. Hermione cursed the magical staircases … she was sure that there were more steps than this usually, and swore bloody revenge against those stairs that had gone walkabout and thus curtailed her time with Harry. She could feel that imperative pressing sensation putting pressure on her chest again as the time came for them to part.
Breathing sadly, Hermione turned to Harry. "So, this is you. I hope Luna likes her bagel and her muffin."
"I'm sure she will," Harry quipped. "She's the sort of girl that will be so shocked that I've done something nice for her, that she'd eat a buffalo and a Bludger if I'd brought them back for her breakfast of 'B's'!"
"That was certainly a lot of B's," Hermione laughed. She wanted to step in, get closer before they said goodbye. But she was bothersomely frozen in place, which annoyed her.
Then Harry rolled his jaw nervously. "So, you know what day it is today?"
"Yes, it's Sunday," Hermione replied in a puzzled tone. Then she clicked as to what Harry was getting at. "Oh, right … our Note Night. What about it?"
"Well, shall we not do it this week?" Harry suggested, quietly.
"Why not?" Hermione asked, slightly anxious as to where Harry was going with this. "Don't you want to?"
"Of course I do," Harry soothed, taking a brave mini-step closer, causing Hermione's heart to smash into her ribcage unexpectedly. "But I sort of want to try and be apart for a week … just so I'll have loads to talk to you about when you take me to Hogsmeade next week."
Harry's wry grin made Hermione melt a little again. She was running out of organs to disintegrate at this point. But her legs still worked, so she stepped a foot closer to Harry.
"But I don't know if I want to do that," she whispered softly. "I don't know if I could stand it, being all alone in my Tower and not talking to you for a whole week. I might go mental."
"You managed well enough before," Harry pointed out with a smirk.
"Yes, well … that was before," Hermione muttered. "Back when I was a smeghead."
"You were never a smeghead," Harry laughed. "Or you hid it well, if you were. I don't really want to do this either, but I don't want to look stupid by running out of things to say in Hogsmeade. I barely managed to have enough to say at the Yule Ball."
"But, like I said, the things you did say were the most important ones," Hermione replied shyly. "Alright, fine. We'll do this. But I warn you, if I'm very cross on Saturday, you'll only have yourself to blame."
"That's fair," Harry smirked. "Right … I'm going to go. Good luck with the exams this week, not that you'll need it."
"You too. I hope you're ready to drop into second place behind me, for I've been studying very hard!"
"Game on, Miss Granger!" Harry hooted out. "Do you have enough quill nibs for the exams?"
Hermione slapped herself hard on the forehead. "Oh, bother! I meant to order some last week and I forgot. That was probably your fault, you know. Do you …"
"Yes, I have spares, as always," Harry laughed as he cut in, shaking his head in wonder. "I'll send you a pack over with Hedwig later on. She always visits me at night before she heads to the owlery."
"Ok, thank you," Hermione blushed. "But don't put any silly hexes on them, or anything. If I end up writing my name as Roonil Wazlib or something I'll be very cross with you, Harry!"
"I wouldn't want that!" Harry chortled. Then his laugh died abruptly, as that wriggly, lively thing in his gut responded to the way that it really liked Hermione saying his name. It caused an icy shiver to burst over every inch of his tickly skin. "R-right, well … better go … bagels to deliver … and stuff."
"Yes, I don't want Luna to think badly of me."
"Oh she wont, she really likes you," Harry replied. "She's got good taste, that one."
Hermione smiled sweetly at the compliment. "Then you'd better get her breakfast to her. Okay, so, I'll see you Saturday, I suppose. I already don't like this, Harry."
"Me, neither. But you'll be glad of it on the weekend. Trust me."
"What time shall we meet? Nine?" Hermione suggested.
"We have to have breakfast first," Harry reminded her. "How about Ten?"
"Nine-thirty?"
"Deal," Harry smirked. "We have to save room for a toffee apple, after all."
"Or maybe even one each," Hermione teased. "Okay, nine-thirty in the Entrance Hall. And you'd better have a lot to talk to me about after a week of radio silence!"
The next week was harder than either Harry or Hermione expected, and this had absolutely zero to do with their exams. It started for Hermione on Sunday night as she was revising Arithmancy. She looked at her revision timetable and suddenly remembered that Harry had never told her how he colour coded his own timetables and homework planners. She was halfway to writing him a note to ask about it, when she realised their agreement meant she couldn't send him anything, and her brain rebelled a bit against their accord.
This was Sunday … it was Note Night, and Hermione was boiling with frustration at not being able to write to Harry … ooh, that boy had a lot to answer for. All these feelings were rattling her and putting her life in turmoil.
"That's it. I'm never writing to him again!" Hermione cried in bitterness of spirit, throwing her half-scribbled note into the fireplace, which cracked and sparkled as the flames swallowed it.
"Something wrong?" Fay quirked from the next bed. "Has Harry done something to upset you?"
Hermione snapped her head to Fay, seething with unreasonable anger.
"He wont let me ask him what colour he uses to code Arithmancy!" Hermione shrieked in a shrill tone. "Can you believe that?"
"Capital offence," Fay grinned, trying to stay loyal but highly amused by Hermione's agitated state.
"Exactly. I'm glad you agree," Hermione fumed, missing the sarcasm completely. "I don't know why I put up with his antics, I really don't."
It wasn't any easier for Harry, though. Tuesday night came around and his body moved on autopilot to the desk in his dorm. He had taken out a fresh quill and some parchment before he remembered that he wasn't going to write to Hermione this week. He was so despondent by the realisation that he abandoned his plans for revision, choosing instead to sit cross-legged on his desk to stare over at Gryffindor Tower through the window, and wonder if Hermione was feeling as miserable about this as he was.
Eventually, after what felt like a month to them both, Saturday morning arrived. They ate the quickest breakfast they could get away with, before passing each other with excited grins as they left the Hall to get ready to go out. Within ten minutes Harry was back waiting in the Entrance Hall. Hermione trotted down the stairs five minutes later, Fay and Lavender flanking her like sentries.
"Bye girls," Hermione twittered, abandoning her guard detail as soon as Harry was in sight, waving to them as they chuckled at her exuberance to get away from them.
"Shall we?" Harry grinned, motioning out of the main doors.
"Yes, let's," Hermione nodded. "I want to get to this telling off I owe you as quickly as possible!"
"Telling off? What for?"
"This whole not writing palaver!" Hermione cried. "I've been going nuts with only textbooks to read. I am not going back to that life, Harry. So you have a lot to making up to me to do today!"
Harry smirked at her, then noticed Hermione's teeth were chattering slightly and her breath was rising as steam in front of her face.
"Are you cold?" Harry asked in concern.
"Well, it is a bit nippy," Hermione pointed out. "Middle of December in Scotland and all."
"Why aren't you wearing your scarf?"
"I couldn't find it, and in my rush to get back downstairs I wasn't in the mood to look very hard."
"Well that was silly," Harry clucked. "Here, have mine."
Hermione blinked up at the offer. "No, I really cant. You keep it on."
"I can handle the cold, don't worry," Harry reassured her, undoing the artful knot in his scarf and moving to place it around Hermione.
But she stepped back in playful alarm. "No, it's not that. I cant wear it because it's your Ravenclaw scarf. I can't go around wearing that! What will the other Gryffindors think if they see me in this get-up?"
"They'll think you've finally transferred to the House where you always wanted to be," Harry teased. "You've got your blue dress and your eagle hair clip … you take my scarf for your Ravenclaw collection. I know you like it."
"Well, it does have its attraction … you know, it looks warm and everything," Hermione blushed prettily, as she quickly fumbled over her words. She gave in to offset any niggly awkwardness. "Oh, alright then. Thank you."
So Harry closed the gap between them and snaked the scarf around Hermione's neck, gently lifting her hair to tuck it tight to her skin, but leaving her to tie the knot underneath her heavy coat. Hermione closed her eyes briefly and drew in the scent … it was unmistakably Harry, and Hermione had the feeling that the scarf would live under her pillow from now on, just in case she needed a fix, if only she could persuade Harry to part with it.
"Better?" Harry asked.
"Loads, thanks," Hermione replied, tugging the scarf ever more snug to her neck. "I'm sure these scarves are better than the Gryffindor ones."
"Better House, see?" Harry quipped. "Better students, better scarves, better everything. We're just better!"
"If you say so! All I'm interested is in that you'd better make up for not speaking to me for the last week. So go!"
And Harry tried, determined to not run out of things to say for the fifteen minutes it would take to reach the village, where they would have other topics to take their attention. The week of exams provided the richest seam to mine, allowing them to discuss which tests and questions had been the trickiest, comparing answers then funning with each other over which of them had done better.
Then they reached Hogsmeade Village Square, Harry still buoyed by the fact that there hadn't been any awkward silences between them yet. Luckily, they were some of the first from Hogwarts to reach the village, so only a handful of other students were there to stare and point at them as they passed, no doubt preparing to embellish the stories of about Hermione came to be wearing Harry's scarf into something far more lurid than the truth.
But that was something to worry about later. Ignoring Honeydukes entirely (my parent's would have a joint heart attack if they saw me surrounded by so much sugar, Harry!), Hermione guided them instead into Scrivenshaft's quill and stationary shop, where she began thumbing through the pages of A New Theory of Numerology, which she picked up from their modest book display.
At the same time, Harry made an over-dramatic fuss of an order form on the counter. He was playfully trying to persuade the shopkeeper that it was perfectly legitimate to subscribe to quill nibs rather than magazines, refuting the suggestion that no-one could possibly need that many new nibs every month, until Hermione came over and marched him out of the shop, with light-hearted admonishments ringing in his ears.
Next they went up to the Shrieking Shack, sitting on the rickety old fence that surrounded it and looking at the boarded up windows and rattling roof rafters.
"What was it like, when Sirius told you who he was in there?" Hermione asked cautiously. This was crossing the line of intimacy and she knew it … or had they already crossed it long ago and she simply hadn't noticed?
Harry didn't seem to mind either way, taking a lungful of air to steady himself before speaking in a calm and clear voice. "I didn't believe him at first. All I knew was that he'd been trying to kill me and I was anxious for the confrontation. I'd overheard Minister Fudge talking about it with a few of the teachers, see, on the only time I've visited the Three Broomsticks. They were talking about Sirius, about the misconception that he was involved in my Mum and Dad's murder. I heard it all and went mad wanting revenge. It was all I could think about. So if I was ever horrendous to you last year, that was the reason why, and I'm sorry if I was."
"I don't remember you being like that, so you can stop worrying. So, you went after him when he came here?" Hermione coaxed in a gentle voice.
Harry nodded and looked down ruefully. "I know it was stupid, but my head was filled with such anger … I was as mindless as Sirius was thought to be. But then I heard everyone talking about how Ron Weasley's rat had vanished, after Sirius managed to get into Gryffindor Tower that one night, and it triggered a memory.
"I was in my secret copse one evening with Hedwig and she suddenly went crazy, sniping out of the trees and going after something. I followed, and saw that she was hunting a rat in the long grasses, but it managed to get away from her and disappeared. She was very cross, as you can imagine. She's such a diva and doesn't like missing a target, but she's also a superb hunter. She never misses. So I knew something wasn't right … there was something up with that rat.
"I was out visiting Hagrid when I first saw Sirius in his dog form. I'd helped him put a case together that managed to spare one of his hippogriffs from being slaughtered. It was supposed to have injured Malfoy or something, but Hagrid insisted he was putting it on, and I believed him."
"You helped save the hippogriff," Hermione hushed in a reverent tone, as she remembered the event. "I was in the class when it happened, and Malfoy definitely milked it, but I didn't know that you'd helped to save the creature's life. How did you do it?"
"Malfoy went to his connections, so I tapped up mine," Harry confessed. "I shared a compartment on the train at the beginning of last year with Susan Bones, and her aunt is a big shot in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I asked Sue to arrange a meeting for me with her aunt … don't hate me, but sometimes I have to use my fame for some things that would be impossible without it … and I told her what was going on. She intervened and Buckbeak was saved."
"Buckbeak? I remember the name now," Hermione nodded. Harry couldn't look directly at her, for her warm expression was making him very hot all of a sudden, and it was freezing in Hogsmeade today. It was all very peculiar. "That's … that's incredible, Harry."
Harry shrugged, pocketing the compliment to try and deal with it properly later. "I just did what I could."
"And that was such a noble thing," Hermione whispered venerably. "Maybe there's a bit of Gryffindor in you after all!"
"Let's not go too far!" Harry guffawed. "I find that remark ... insulting! Anyway, I was leaving Hagrid's when Hedwig swooped overhead, barking angrily. I don't know why, but I thought she was calling for me to follow. So I did."
"You and your instincts again?" Hermione quirked, kicking her heels against the fence as Harry told his story. She didn't think she'd ever be able to properly tell him how much she loved to hear him talking. She wanted to do everything she could to encourage him to carry on all day.
"Something like that," Harry grinned. "Hedwig was chasing a rat again, and I wondered if it was the same one. So I went after them. Then the oddest thing happened … a giant dog bounded out of the bushes and took up the chase on the ground. Hedwig circled and tried to direct the dog … and she led him right to the Whomping Willow before turning away. Her pretty feathers wanted no part of those angry branches!"
"I can bet!" Hermione chuckled. "But how did the dog and rat get from the Willow to here? The branches go nuts if anything gets within three feet of them. Just ask Ron and his brothers, from that time that they flew their Dad's enchanted car to school just to make a big entrance."
"Yeah, I heard about that," Harry replied. "That'll be legendary, that one. Dumb, but legendary. But as far as the other part goes, there's a secret passage that leads from the Willow to the Shrieking Shack. It was put here during Professor Lupin's time as a student ... as a place for him to go when he changed. You must have worked out that he was a werewolf?"
"I did," Hermione nodded. "But not till Professor Snape took over his class one lesson and set us an essay on how to spot werewolves. It was easy after that."
"He set you that essay too, did he?" Harry frowned. "What a scumbag. He only did it to expose him. Remus Lupin is a good friend of Sirius, as he was of my Dad, so Snape naturally hates him, too. It was cruel, unfettered malice from Snape, pure and simple. He dressed it up as Lupin being a danger to people, but it's just good old fashioned hatred masquerading under a banner of stoking social prejudice."
"Yes, well, let's not dwell on him," Hermione frowned. "How did Sirius get past the branches of the Willow?"
"This is where it gets weird," Harry mumbled, looking purposefully away. "There was a cat that was helping him. He put his paw on a knot in the root and the branches stopped thrashing about. The cat even kept his paw there till I'd gone through, before following me down the tunnel."
"A cat? That's amazing," Hermione breathed in awe. "That must have been one intuitive kitty."
"You don't know the half of it."
Harry glanced up at Hermione then, and his expression caused her to cock her head at him in borderline alarm. That look couldn't mean what she thought it did, could it?
"What did the cat look like?" Hermione asked in a little voice.
"Bushy orange fur, bandy legs," Harry replied carefully, as Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, Hermione, it was your Crookshanks."
Hermione gasped deeply. "Crookshanks helped you to unmask Peter Pettigrew and save your Godfather?" Harry nodded to confirm the tale. "But how … and why didn't you say so before now?"
"I didn't know when it happened," Harry explained, his voice lined with a pleading tone that softened Hermione at once. "And I only realised who he was when I came to using him to send you one of our early letters. After that, I knew it would be awkward to tell you about his role without telling you the whole story, which I wasn't ready to at the time. But I think that's why Hedwig was willing to come to you when you sent your first letter to me ... she and Crookshanks must have bonded over helping Sirius, so she trusted you, too."
"How unfortunate that you have a perfectly reasonable excuse, and that I'm perfectly reasonable to accept it," Hermione quirked. "That might have been our first row, Harry!"
"I prefer us without rows," Harry frowned back.
"I know … so do I, that was just a joke, Harry. Sorry … please go on."
"It's alright … I just don't like rows," Harry muttered. "Most of the ones I've had didn't end well for me, that's all."
Hermione felt her heart stutter at Harry's admission. He was referring to his home life before Sirius, she knew he was, but she couldn't let on that she knew more than he'd told her. It was such a delicate subject and she had to tread very carefully around it.
"Then let's not row," Hermione suggested in her brightest possible voice. "Just tell me how the story with Sirius ends, and what my cat had to do with it!"
"He actually stopped me killing Sirius," Harry confessed. "Bit my ankle when I tried to curse him, then Remus Lupin turned up and stood in front of the dog I was trying to kill. Remus has never has told me how he knew that I was there, but Sirius has hinted that he does, and that I'll find out one day if I'm a 'good boy'. It's probably some mischievous spell or another, knowing him.
"But anyway, Lupin arrived, stopped me killing the dog, which then became Sirius, then they turned the rat into Pettigrew. They had all become Animagi at school, which they told me as part of the explanation. You probably know the rest."
Hermione nodded. "Sirius and Lupin handed over Pettigrew to Dumbledore, who had him arrested and helped clear Sirius' name. And Crookshanks was involved all this time and never told me!"
"Did you expect him to tell you?" Harry quirked. "Do you speak cat?"
"Oh, well, no … I see what you mean," Hermione blushed. "But still … I had no idea that he was involved in your story till you just told me."
"I had no idea he was your cat, I swear," Harry promised. "Then I asked Hedwig to find out which cat was yours, then to lead me to him if he was out hunting one night or something, so I could use him to get a letter to you. As soon as I saw him, I knew. Sorry for not telling you sooner."
"It's alright, you have perfectly good reasons," Hermione soothed. "Crookshanks has a lot of explaining to do, though! Come on, take me to see this Grange you were so excited about. It's been a day of wonders and I'm quite keen for another one!"
So off they went. Right at the edge of the village, a path sloped down and away from the houses, to a pretty little spot amongst a ring of trees. There, standing majestically on rising ground, was a mightily impressive stone structure. Made from dozens of bluestone monoliths, which seemed to glow with their own light and gave off a low hum of energy, there were three concentric rings of standing stones topped with many heavy lintels of thick rock, all smoothly carved and fitted together so tightly that not even a single human hair could have been slid between the joins. It was one heck of a sight to see.
Hermione was delighted by it, feeling the buzz of energy radiate through her bones as they got closer. "Wow, Harry! This is amazing! It's so beautiful."
"I'm glad you agree," Harry beamed, stepping closer as Hermione's eyes shone with the light of the monoliths. "Just wait till you see the centre of it. Come on, while the sun is high."
So Harry led them inside. Hermione wanted to be playful, hiding behind some of the stones as she raced ahead on the arcing path, only to jump out and scare Harry as he caught up with her. Eventually, they reached the middle of the complex. There was a peacefully silent, subdued spot at the very heart of the stone rings, where a low mist hovered at about ankle level. Pressed into a single standing stone at the centre of the space, a panel of different jewels and gemstones had been set into the rock. They were dull at the moment, but the sun was just rising higher behind where Harry and Hermione were stood.
"This is called the Temple of the Moon," Harry whispered, as if afraid to disturb the silence. "I've never seen it by the moonlight, but it's very impressive by the sun. Wait for it … wait for it … there!"
Harry breathed out in reverence as the sunlight peeked over the rim of the lintel behind them and fell right onto the panel of gems. Each one shone in a brilliant display of dazzling colours, looking for all the world … as Harry had said … as if they were being lit in sequence. If there was a code there, it was too magnificent for mere mortals to decipher.
But it looked spectacular, as Hermione hushed to Harry. "That's … that's so beautiful. Wow, would you look at that! This is just the most awesome thing, Harry. How did I never know this was here before?"
Harry wanted to answer that question, but his mind was more pleasantly occupied. For in her admiration of the Solstice Marker, Hermione had stepped close to Harry, so that the back of her shoulder was now pressed lightly into his chest. Either she hadn't noticed, or didn't care, because she showed no inclination to move away from the contact. It would be the easiest thing just then, for Harry to reach out and thread an arm around her, so they could enjoy watching the display a little more intimately.
But even the mere thought of doing that was the most terrifying thing imaginable. Harry reckoned he'd rather duel Voldemort with a feather duster than to put his arm around Hermione without asking, or without having the excuse of being on a dancefloor to justify his actions. So he just stood very still, drank in the lemon-scented fragrance of Hermione's shampoo and tried not to fidget too much where stray stands of her hair tickled him against his chin and cheek.
After a minute or so, the sunlight moved on and the Solstice Marker returned to shadow. Hermione led the way back out of the complex, swaying slightly as she walked. Harry knew that feeling … he'd been a little overawed by his first experience here, too. It tended to overload the senses if exposed to the powers of the place for too long.
What Hermione needed was a little bit of sugar … and Harry had just the thing.
"Two toffee apples please," Harry asked the lady on the stall as their turn came. He paid Two Sickles each, and then presented the first toffee-covered Golden Delicious to Hermione, before joining her for a walk through the market once he'd been given his own.
Hermione closed her eyes as she bit into the sweet coating. "Mmmm," she purred. "That's yummy."
"Worth the wait then?" Harry grinned.
"The whole day has been," Hermione smiled back. "Thank you, Harry. This is the first time that I've actually enjoyed a Hogsmeade weekend."
"You'd be happy to do this again then?" Harry asked, cautiously.
"Absolutely," Hermione nodded keenly. "I don't think I'll be truly happy in life until I've seen the Temple of the Moon by the moonlight, though. That's something we'll have to see at least once. What do they use the Temple for, do you know?"
"Weddings, blessing of babies, that sort of thing," Harry replied, looking away evasively. "They mostly get done at night, mostly."
"Oh …" Hermione blushed. "Imagine that … a moonlit wedding? How romantic would that be! I think I want one."
"Do you want to get married then?"
Hermione half-choked on the way that Harry had phrased the question. Her soppy heart just laughed deeply at her as she tried to get it's rampant beating under control.
"I'd not really thought about it," Hermione confessed. "I'm only fifteen, after all. But I don't know … I suppose if I ever meet the right wizard, get swept off my feet …"
She let her words drift away into the cool air … and then Harry and Hermione were back to being physically unable to look at each other. It was so peculiar how this kept happening between them all of a sudden. Now it was Hermione's turn to break the silence.
"What about you? Ever thought about it?"
"Not really," Harry muttered. "I've never had good role models for that sort of stuff … marriage and family and things. Mum and Dad don't count, as I don't remember them at all. But like you said … if I meet the right witch, who knows?"
"I never said I wanted to meet the right witch," Hermione teased. "I cant see that ever being my thing. Girls annoy me too much with their cattiness and drama … imagine actually being in a relationship with one?"
Harry went to make a witty comment, but then a curious idea poked into his mind that nearly cost him his balance. For he was suddenly imagining being in a relationship with a witch ... and it was an entirely new concept for him. But there was more to it than that, and it was this that brought on his sudden bout of vertigo.
Because he was only considering one witch for his relationship fantasy … and she was walking right next to him, chomping noisily on the crisp coating of her toffee apple.
Harry blinked as the hugeness of this transition careered into his mind. He was thinking of being with Hermione in a relationship? Is that what he was saying? He found it hard to deny that he was. And he was rattled to discover just how little resistance he had to the idea, even though it had shattered his world-view in a single second.
Harry noticed then how close together they were walking. Had they always been like this, or had Harry's loss of gravity simply caused him to physically stumble into Hermione's personal space? He also saw that each of them had the arm nearest to one another down at their sides, and every few strides the back of Harry's knuckles would graze with whisper-soft delicacy against the back of Hermione's palm, and he was left to wonder if they'd subconsciously entered into this state this on purpose.
He hadn't realised this was happening before, but now every slight contact sent jolts of energy shooting up Harry's arm, with the combined force of all the magic he'd ever cast, fogging his skull when it reached that part of him. It was all he could to do blink as firmly as he could, just so that he was able to keep his eyes cogent and showing him the way ahead.
"So no, if I ever get married, it'll definitely be a wizard for me," Hermione went on relentlessly. "I just need to find one that will put up with me!"
That jerked Harry crossly back to his senses. "What's that supposed to mean? There's nothing wrong with you."
Hermione let a blush steal across her cheeks. "That's sweet, but it just proves that you don't know me nearly well enough yet! I'll have to redouble my efforts in my letters. Speaking of which, it is still okay that I write to you over Christmas, isn't it?"
"You'd better," Harry frowned, still annoyed at how Hermione was so quick to put herself down. "I get the feeling that Sirius will be trying to be all extra festive for our first Christmas together, so I'll need some sanity to escape all the tinsel and baubles and his terrible Carol singing!"
Hermione giggled merrily at that. "I'm sure it will be lovely. Stop being such a grumbler."
"I know you're probably right, but I'm still not used to being fawned over. It'll be … odd … to genuinely have a merry Christmas for once."
Hermione looked over at him with a pained sort of fondness in her eyes. Harry wasn't sure he liked that. Accepting compliments from Hermione was hard enough, but he didn't think he could stand accepting her pity or sympathy. He just couldn't get his head around how she suddenly cared for him so much to be this interested in his well-being.
"Well, I think you definitely deserve one," Hermione told him, genuinely. "And what you also deserve is a nice Christmas Card, so you can expect one from me."
"You know, I've never actually had one of those," Harry mused in a low voice.
"What?" Hermione asked in strained astonishment.
"A Christmas Card," Harry repeated. "I've never had one."
Hermione gasped in horror. "How can that be? How is that even possible?"
"Easy, really," Harry replied, shyly. "I mean, I've never had any friends before, and no family to speak of, so there's never been anyone to send me one. I've always liked it that way, as it means I wont have to send one back out of courtesy. I wouldn't even know what to write in one."
"Well you'd better learn quick, because you'll be definitely getting one from me, and I will be fully expecting one in return!" Hermione teased. "Come on, let's go and have a look around the market. There must be a stall selling cards here somewhere."
So off they went. They spent the next hour going around the little market, looking at stalls selling pretty wrapping paper and tree decorations, breathing in the heady, complex aromas of mulled wine, mulled mead and warm cider, and wondering what it would be like to be drunk and how they'd know when they were. Harry wondered if the fuzzy sensations would be anything like the one he felt every time he caught a blast of Hermione's shampoo, or the faint trace of perfume that he could only pick up when he was standing far too close than could be healthy.
Eventually, they found a stall selling Christmas Cards. Hermione bought a box of cards, as she had a lot of relatives to write to, and helped Harry pick out a card for her, which depicted a large Christmas tree, with lights that actually twinkled, and snow that had been enchanted to fall right off the edge of the card before vanishing into the air. It was a very clever piece of magic, they both agreed.
Then they simply strolled around the village and enjoyed each other's company. Hermione told Harry about previous Christmas breaks her parents had taken her on, to skiing in Andorra and festive resorts in Reykjavik. Harry listened, rapt, to the details of Hermione visiting geysers and hot spring lakes and active volcanoes whilst in Iceland, and trying not to be too jealous that his Christmases, by comparison, were mostly spent trying to avoid the acid-hot tongues of his Dursley overlords, not that he would dream of interrupting Hermione while her passion for nature was in full-flow and running amok within her.
Then they ambled around trying to avoid the crowds of students, which were much larger now, and the pointing and gossiping was becoming more frequent. Harry had expected as much, as it was the first time that he and Hermione had been seen together since the Yule Ball, and this was in another social setting, rather than in the Hogwarts library or something. The rumours were bound to intensify, and Harry felt guilty for not thinking more clearly about things.
"Sorry about this," Harry mumbled, as they swerved away from a clutch of students huddled near Zonko's Joke Shop, who found the sight of them more entertaining than anything on sale within the shop. "Being seen up here today probably wont do anything for our anonymity."
"Oh, hang them!" Hermione cried. "What do we care about them? I think we can count on one hand the amount of other students that we actually like, whose opinion actually matters to us. You know what? I think we should go to the Three Broomsticks, show them all just how little we care about their silliness."
"That's a big step," Harry pointed out cautiously, though deeply impressed by Hermione's bravery.
"Then we should get it out of the way," Hermione announced fiercely. "Come on, I'll treat you to a Butterbeer."
Hermione seemed unmoveable on the idea, so Harry didn't protest as she marched them up the hill to the pub overlooking the village square. They entered to a blast of warm air, that was a welcome balm against the chilly wind that they'd been used to all day. There was a cordon blocking the right-hand side of the pub, separating the regular patrons and customers from the Hogwarts contingent, who were given their own space to the left.
And as Harry and Hermione entered the pub, all fifty of the Hogwarts heads assembled there turned to gawk at them.
After a brief lull in conversations, the volume shot up again, with a change in topic no doubt the reason for much of this. Hermione assumed a dignified pose, held her head in the air, then took Harry by the crook of the arm and guided them to a spare booth near the window. A young waitress, who looked as if she may have only just left Hogwarts herself, came over and took their order, returning a few moments later with two foaming tankards of Butterbeer.
Harry looked around as he sipped his warming drink. There were a few glances in their direction, a few gossipers chattering rapdily behind raised hands, but all in all it wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting. He was just about to tell Hermione so when they were abruptly interrupted by Lavender and Parvati.
"Hey kids, mind if we join you? Everywhere else is full," Lavender chimed brightly, before plonking herself down next to Harry.
From across the table, Hermione shot Harry a pained expression. She knew what an ordeal sitting next to a girl like Lavender would be for him.
"So, what have you two been up to?" Parvati asked. "Had a good day?"
"Yes we have, actually. We've just been to the market and done a bit of shopping," Hermione replied, saving Harry from the need to talk, and showing her bag as evidence. "How about you?"
"Yeah, we've had a good time," Lavender twittered. "I just lost all my money on the coconut shy, though. I'm not very good it at. But I'm parched now. Hey, Haitch, you don't mind Pav and me sharing your Butterbeer, do you? I'm sure Harry wont mind sharing his with you, will you, Harry?"
Hermione, still looking mortified at Lavender's brassiness, glanced over at Harry. To her immense surprise, he seemed to be bearing this very well.
"No, I don't mind," Harry replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "That's unless you do … Haitch."
Hermione's eyes flared at Harry, as a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, in a very clear gesture of, 'don't you dare start calling me THAT!'
"That's great," Lavender beamed, reaching over to slide Hermione's tankard towards herself.
"Yeah, that's very generous of you both, thanks," Parvati agreed. "Hey, tell you what, why don't we swap seats? You come and sit by me, Lav, and Hermione can sit next to Harry. It's ever such a long way to stretch over the table to share tankards, you know."
Harry flicked his eyes at Hermione, who rolled hers in return and tried not to tut in amusement at the not-so-subtle matchmaking efforts that the other girls were making. But Hermione gave not a peep of complaint, and demurely swapped seats with Lavender, scrunching her eyes in a knowing way as her dorm mates grinned teasingly at her.
"There, that's better!" Lavender crowed gleefully. "Now Pav can help me mark the crossword answers in Witch Weekly. You two can just … carry on like we aren't here."
Lavender winked pointedly at Hermione, who had to restrain herself from kicking the little flirt under the table. Instead, Hermione just turned bodily to face Harry, muttering lowly under her breath.
"Sorry for them. I know how much this must be bothering you."
Harry grinned as he took another swig of Butterbeer, whispering into the tankard, "Don't worry about it. They aren't so bad. Besides, I actually prefer the seating arrangement this way around."
Hermione blushed prettily. "Me, too."
"It's all good then," Harry nodded back.
After that they had a pleasant little afternoon. It turned out that Lavender was about as good at crosswords as she was at coconut shies, so Hermione had to help her with some answers, and even Harry offered some suggestions, too. He also took pains to try and make conversation with Parvati, talking mostly about her sister who, like Harry, was a Ravenclaw. Hermione felt so proud of him for that, but honestly didn't know what to make of it.
"Is this all for me?" she wondered in her head in something like astonishment. "Is he trying to be polite and sociable to my friends for my benefit? Why would he do that? It's against everything I know about him ... or have I really brought about this much of a change in him?"
It was a train of thought that made Hermione all sorts of jittery, and she found that she was scooting a little closer to Harry in the booth, almost protectively, every time she moved in to help Lavender. There was something about him being so chatty to Parvati that both pleased and bothered Hermione, as though she wanted to keep that side of Harry all to herself. She wondered if this was how things were going to be, if she would soon come to envy everyone that Harry spoke to that wasn't her? It was a little worrying that she thought she might.
At around four o'clock, the time allotted to the Hogwarts students in the Three Broomsticks came to an end, and they were all requested to finish their drinks and make their way outside. Harry and Hermione walked with Lavender and Parvati all the way back to the school, chatting companionably until they reached the Entrance Hall and walked up the stairs to the Fifth Floor, where they had to part ways.
"We'll just wait up here for you, Haitch," Parvati crooned in semi-tease, as she and Lavender trotted up to the next landing as Harry and Hermione said their goodbyes. Hermione just glowered at the girls in pointed crossness until they were gone. Then she turned shyly to Harry.
"Well, that's two good days we've had together," Hermione chimed breezily. "More after Christmas?"
"Yeah, definitely," Harry grinned. "I really enjoyed today, just as much as the Yule Ball, I think. So thanks."
"Me too, it was such a lot of fun," Hermione nodded fiercely. Then she reached up to her neck. "Here, you can have you scarf back now. Thanks for the lend."
"No, you keep it. I'd like you to have it," Harry said, refusing to take the scarf back and gently pushing Hermione's hands to her chest when she offered it to him. For a moment too long, Harry's palm lingered against the back of Hermione's knuckles. It took a force of nature for him to finally pull away, but the electric shocks of contact were getting rather dangerous to his health, so it was probably for the best that he let go.
"Alright, thank you," Hermione whispered, accepting the gift without resistance. She slid the scarf back around her neck. "So … I suppose we wont see each other until next year now?"
"No, I don't think that we will," Harry agreed, sadly. "Look on the bright side … you have three weeks to think of where we're going to spend our next day out. I think you should pick."
"I don't see that as a bright side, not at all," Hermione groaned despondently. "But I'll have a think about it."
For a moment, they simply stood awkwardly, not really knowing what to say next. Then Harry took a weighty breath, taking on the responsibility of getting their parting started.
"Well, we'd better go and pack," Harry suggested. "Train goes early in the morning and everything."
"Yes, you're probably right," Hermione said, sniffily. "Okay then, well, see you next year. Don't forget my Christmas Card!"
"You send yours first," Harry grinned. "I don't even have your address to give to Hedwig."
"That's true, but your house has all those enchantments on it, you said," Hermione quirked. "Regular owl post wont be able to find it."
"Fair point … it's Twelve Grimmauld Place, London. So there, now you know. Enchantment lifted!"
"You're such an arse!" Hermione laughed. "Alright, I'll write first … as usual."
"Why change our habits now?" Harry chuckled. "Right then, see you next term."
"Okay. Bye Harry."
"Bye."
Then Harry started walking off towards Ravenclaw Tower. Hermione turned and tried to go upstairs, but Lavender and Parvati blocked her path, refusing to move and mouthing silently for her to go after Harry. Huffing at the blockade, but anxious to give Harry something to go away with, she gave in and hurried down the corridor after him.
"Harry, wait!" she called out.
Surprised, Harry stopped and turned in confusion to greet her. "Did you forget something?"
"Yes … this," said Hermione, breathlessly. Then she stepped in and drew him into a close and intimate hug. "You have a good Christmas, you hear? Have the best one you can. I'll be thinking of you. Merry Christmas, Harry."
Harry's arms went automatically around her too, squeezing her gently. "Merry Christmas to you."
The hug lasted for a good minute. There seemed to be loads more to say, but neither of them had the vocabulary to say it. So they just stayed silent, until the time felt right to slowly slip away from each other. Then they said another goodbye, their eyes shining together, until Harry finally resumed his walk to Ravenclaw Tower properly this time.
Lavender and Parvati came up on Hermione's shoulders then, flanking her on either side … which was a good thing, as she felt dazed and dizzy enough to fall over.
"Well, it wasn't a kiss, but it was still sickeningly romantic just the same!" Lavender whispered.
"Yeah, it was saccharine alright," Parvati agreed with a grin. "I'm going to be honest now … I'm totally jealous of you, Hermione. I wish I could get a boy to look at me the way that Harry Potter looks at you. It's just the most adorable thing."
"Me, too," Lavender nodded, vigorously. "You know what, next term, first thing I'm doing is getting myself a penpal. Come on, Hermione, you can give us tips on how to nab the perfect wizard with just a quill a couple of stamps!"
Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she followed the girls back along the corridor and up the stairs. She had to marvel at the situation, at the prospect of her giving other girls advice on relationships. But there it was. And they were right, too … for she had nabbed the perfect wizard, or she shyly hoped that she very soon would be able to say that. He might not have been perfect for everyone, but she was quickly becoming convinced that he was perfect for her.
Now all she had to do was work out how to survive almost a whole month without seeing him. One thing was for sure, Harry's letters - for she hoped there would be many - would be worth as much as all her Christmas presents combined.
She just hoped she wouldn't have to wait too long to open them.
Enjoying this story? Check out some of the others in my portfolio and don't forget my crossovers! They're worth a go, honest! Thanks for reading, and stay safe in these wacky times!