Christmas evening was always a sleepy, subdued affair, and the Potter household was no different. After a day spent eating more food than was advisable in one sitting, the adults would retreat into bottles of brandy and port, getting quietly tipsy while the children played with their presents, or ate their way through second and third helpings of trifle and Christmas cake.

That night, James and Sirius were sat on the settee in the Embankment Flat, discussing the Queen's Speech with a large glass of amber liquid each, watching Harry and Lily as they gently swayed to a slow Christmas song playing from the radio.

Harry was mindlessly content. Now not every twelve-year-old boy in the land would have been so happy, to be seen holding his mother so tenderly close, with her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders. But Harry couldn't give two Sickles about them. He simply closed his eyes and smiled cosily, listening to his mother's heartbeat as she rocked him soothingly, feeling the occasional soft bump as the baby growing inside Lily kicked and danced along with her mother and big brother.

"I'm happy, Mum," Harry trilled lowly, snuggling in tight. "I'm warm, and cosy, and full of cake. And I have you and Dad and Sirius. And the new baby too. This is my favourite place to be. Have you thought of a name for my sister yet?"

"We have a few in mind, but we haven't completely settled on one," Lily crooned lowly, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's head. "I quite like Seren - which means star. But your Dad might prefer something more traditional. Charlotte or Anna are his favourites at the moment, but he changes his mind more often than he changes his underwear!"

"Eww! Mum!" Harry chortled. "That's foul."

"Be thankful," Lily teased quietly. "You haven't seen your father's boxers! At least it's Christmas, though. So the ones that have had holes in since May can finally be replaced by the new ones I bought him!"

Harry laughed softly and hugged into his mother's warmth again. He put on a good, tough front, he thought, but if he was honest, Harry was a sucker for a good cuddle. He remembered how warm and fluffy Papageno had been when he crawled under his covers, during those last weeks at Hogwarts. He was a cat, so of course he was snuggly, but sometimes Harry would remember his scent, and for a tiny moment would realise how much like Hermione's it was, albeit a feline variant.

And, like a secret, guilty indulgence, Harry would shyly wish that he was cuddling her instead.

Harry's eyes flew open at that notion. He could feel his heart rate shoot up and race wildly around his chest. He clung onto his mother, slightly afraid of the potency of the emotion that was suddenly rampaging through him. He thought it might cost him his balance if he let it power through him so uncontrolled. His mother responded in kind, hushing soft sounds into his hair as she continued to rock them in a half circle where they stood beneath the mistletoe.

Harry was thankful of his mother's support just then. It helped him ride the waves of this frightening new sensation. It was so powerful! But what was it? It had come from his heart, so Harry calmed as he accepted that it must be a good emotion to have originated there. But he had never felt anything like it.

Though, despite the abject terror it inspired, he was bizarrely keen to feel it again.

So what had caused it? Simple ... a simple idea. Cuddling Hermione. Not hugging ... but cuddling. Up until that moment, Harry would have thought of them both as the same thing, but he now saw that there was a universe of difference between them. He was cuddling his mother, he knew that much. And it was totally different to the hugs he got from winning at Quidditch or something. They were night and day, really.

It was the intimacy that separated them, he decided. Harry was warm and cosy and safe, and, above all else, he felt loved. Blindingly and mindlessly loved. The certainty of that was enough to bring hot, silly tears stinging behind his eyes. And he was loving his mother right back with all he could give, squeezing her as tightly as the baby between them would allow. There was softness here, gentility too, and Harry was a slave to the sensations, addicted to them, drunk on the affection he was swimming in.

This was cuddling ... and Harry felt, with a jolt of shock, that he'd like to hold Hermione just like this.

In that moment, Harry felt sure he had never missed anything so much in his short life as he did Hermione just then. The feeling speared him painfully through the chest. He burned with it. It was like part of him inside had been set alight, and it seared through his veins and boiled over his skin.

Harry didn't know what to do with the emotion at first. It hurt, but it also thrilled. That was weird. It made him delirious euphoric, but also senselessly afraid at the same time. Which one was Harry supposed to go with? He had no idea. The happiness seemed scarier than the fear in a way. That was new, too.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to see Hermione. As soon as possible. He trusted she would keep him safe. And warm. And cosy. She wouldn't let him drown in whatever this deluge was that he was being attacked by. And maybe, just maybe, if Harry hoped very quietly, Hermione might actually want to join him in this whirlpool of gorgeous uncertainty.

And then, right on cue, there was a tinkly little ping from a device on the coffee table.

"Ooh, looks like Hermione's finally worked out how to use Muggle technology!"

Harry flew away from his mother, as Sirius twittered his announcement from his spot on the settee. Harry snatched up the mobile phone he'd left there, before his Godfather had a chance to read the preview message.

"The question is, do you remember how to use a Smart Phone, son?" James joked. "Annwn was a long time ago for you now."

"I remember," Harry scoffed. "What do you take me for?"

"His son!" Sirius chuckled. "James has a memory like a sieve. Let's hope it isn't a genetic defect!"

Harry grinned at his father. "I get all my genes from my Mum, thanks!"

"No wonder your legs look so girly then!" Sirius teased. "I'll have to get you a pair of Levi's when I'm next in Muggle London!"

"You really aren't funny, do you know that?" Harry taunted. "I've heard better jokes in Christmas Crackers!"

James snickered next to Harry. "So, what does Hermione have to say for herself? It's nearly ten o'clock and that's the first text message she's sent you!"

"I don't know," Harry volleyed back, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. "She must have been busy."

"Dont feel bad, kiddo," Sirius told him consolingly. "It's probably been a bit of an emotional day over there."

"Why?" Harry asked in immediate concern.

"It's Malcolm," Sirius began. "Oakley Street have called him back to their world. They need him. The Magisterium forces there are making moves into the Southern ice worlds now. They have found some new phenomena at the Aurora Polaris in Antarctica that they are looking to exploit and, as Mal is the foremost expert on such things that Oakley Street have at their disposal, he has to head back to learn what he can about this new development."

"When will he return?"

Sirius' expression darkened in an instant. "Where the Magisterium are concerned, return is always a relative and uncertain prospect. The only thing we know is that Mal is going into significant danger. I offered to go with him ... but he insisted I stay here and take care of Lyra. His only concern is for her. And for Hermione, too. He has come to see her very much as his own daughter. They both have, in fact."

Harry nodded as he understood that. He felt awful concern for Hermione knowing, as he did, that she viewed Lyra and Mal as surrogate parents, too. Indeed, she more often than not called Lyra 'Mum' as she did her name. She barely even noticed that she did it anymore. If Malcolm was leaving them, it must be terribly upsetting for Hermione.

"Is that why you stayed here tonight then?" Lily asked, taking her usual seat in her reclining easy-chair and putting her feet up. "To let them say a last goodbye?"

Sirius nodded solemnly. "It didn't seem like something I should intrude on. I've come to get on well with Mal, but this wasn't something I had any right to be part of. So I gave them all space to say goodbye in their own way."

"And now I assume they have," Lily smiled softly, nodding at Harry's phone as the notification light flashed on every few seconds.

"Tell me," Harry asked, battling with the persistent urge to open the message from Hermione. "How did you even get the phones to work around magic? I didn't think they could."

"Ah, that was all me," James cut in smugly. "I was working on something similar before we left Annwn. It was a simple matter of dampening the effects of a magical field on Muggle electronics, so they don't get overloaded. I was walking around London, looking at the craft stalls on the Thames for some Christmas decorations, when I got the final piece of the puzzle."

"A phone cover," Sirius nodded, impressed. "Imbibed with a modified Shield Charm, I suppose?"

"Now that was my idea," Lily grinned. "I always was the better one at Charms."

"I'll give you that," James smirked. "But I'm still the most charming one."

"If you do say so yourself!" Lily twittered. Then she contorted her face into a grimace. "Ooh, the baby didn't like that!"

"Are you okay?" Harry and James asked in concerned unison.

Lily smiled fondly at them both. "I'm fine. Little Seren just felt the full force of her Daddy's ego. I don't think she was too impressed!"

Sirius chuckled deeply as Harry let out a breath of relief. Then he eyed his parents suspiciously.

"So ... you both helped to get these phones to work for me and Hermione?" He asked. "Why?"

"Because we know how much you want to stay in touch with each other," James replied easily.

Harry gulped. The idea of touching Hermione had taken up residence in his brain again. He couldn't shake it, as outlandish as it was. Where had this restless need to be near her come from? And why couldn't Harry stop thinking about it?

"In any case," Lily was saying. "It's quite useful for you to have them. Other people around you wont, so you can be sure than when you use them to talk to each other you are who you claim to be. With all this business of enchanted diaries infecting Hogwarts, I for one feel far safer knowing my child isn't being hoodwinked by anyone. I know Lyra feels the same."

"Lyra knows about this?" Harry queried. "I wasn't sure she'd approve."

"She was skeptical at first," Sirius confessed. "But I talked her round, showed her the benefits. Then she became very excited about buying sparkly phone covers for me to enchant for Hermione. They are very blingy, apparently. She's thinking of getting a phone herself in the future just so she can decorate the thing!"

"Maybe we should?" Lily suggested to James.

Harry frowned. "What about knowing for certain that me and Hermione will only get messages from each other? If everyone gets phones this could all go horribly wrong."

James smirked knowingly. "Don't worry, Harry, we wont cramp your style. And if you send me one of your lovey-dovey texts by mistake, I promise not to tease you about them. Too much. Maybe."

"I do not send lovey-dovey anything!" Harry protested hotly, as his father erupted in laughter.

"Try telling that to Hermione," Sirius sniggered. "She was carrying around that Christmas Card you sent her so often I thought it was part of her outfit! What did you write in that? I tried to sneak a look, but she never put it down long enough for me to see. Whatever it was, you practically enchanted the girl!"

Harry went to object again, but that image of Hermione jammed in his throat. She had carried his Christmas Card around with her? That stirred all sorts of lovely in Harry's mind. It warmed him even more than that sip of brandy he'd stolen earlier when his father wasn't looking.

The phone light flashed again. Harry looked longingly at it. Lily smiled down at him.

"You can go and talk to Hermione, Harry," Lily whispered softly. "On the condition that you give me a kiss goodnight first."

Harry grinned and leapt up. He bent down to give his Mum a swift peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mum. Love you."

Then he hurried off to his room and locked the door.


Fifty miles away, in the part of Oxford that was more university than city, Hermione paced nervously around her bedroom and looked at the collection of wires and glass and plastic on her pillow. It had been over ten minutes since she'd pressed the 'send' button, but Harry was still yet to reply. Had she done it wrong? What was keeping him?

"Stop fretting," Papageno urged. "He might not have seen it. Or he might be on the loo or in the shower. It is late, Hermione."

"Oh dear, I didn't think about that!" she yelped in reply, wringing her hands. "Maybe it's too late. Perhaps I should have waiting until the morning -"

And just then ...

Ping.

Hermione practically flew to her bed, flopping down excitedly and snatching the phone up. Laying on her front, and crossing her ankles in the air behind her, she hurriedly opened the message. Papageno padded up the bed alongside her to watch.

"Hi. Sorry I took so long. Are you still there?"

Hermione felt her heart speed in her neck. Why, she couldn't have said. But it just did. She began tapping away at the touch screen.

"Yes. I. Am. Still. Here," Hermione wrote out carefully.

Papageno frowned. "I'm sure you don't need to say all the words you're typing, you know!"

"Oh, did I say that out loud?" Hermione asked in surprise. "I didn't realise!"

"It's fine. But you might want to press 'send'."

"Oh, of course," Hermione replied, before hastily following the instruction.

"Good. I was afraid you might have thought I was ignoring you and went to bed in a mood with me!"

Hermione chuckled lightly. "I wasn't ignoring you?"

"Question mark?"

Hermione huffed at that. "Sorry. I meant '!'. I'm still getting used to how this works. I wasn't sure I was doing it right."

"LOL! You're doing it just fine."

"LOL?"

"Laugh Out Loud. There are a whole load of little acronyms like that. I'll send you a list of the ones I know."

"Thanks. I need all the help you can give me! Oh, by the way, Merry Christmas!" Hermione typed, then she hesitated nervously before adding, "xxx."

Over in London, Harry felt his heart leap into his mouth. "Merry Christmas to you, too xxxx."

"Four kisses?" Hermione swooned. "Always has to go one better that boy, doesn't he, Pap?"

"Is that a complaint?" Papageno snickered back.

"Absolutely not!" Hermione grinned. "I don't think I could ever have enough kisses from Harry. Should I tell him that?"

"Not right now. Look."

Ping. "Sirius told me about Mal. Are you okay x?"

Hermione felt her heart sing in her ribcage. Harry was concerned about her! It was Christmas Night, he was with his family, but he was thinking about how she was! Hermione felt certain her head was going to fall off if she didn't hold it in place.

"I'm fine," Hermione typed. "It was very sad when Mal left, but he's as tough as old dragonhide. He made me cry when he said he was only going to stop the Magisterium from hurting me and Mum, I mean Lyra. I have to stop doing that! But I'm okay now. I just wish - what does it mean 'character limit reached'?"

Harry's laugh could be heard all the way from London, if Hermione had listened very closely.

"You have a limit of words per text. Don't worry, I just got it in two bits. I did wonder why Mal wanted to stop the bad guys 'hurting'. I know he's a nice guy, but still!"

Hermione laughed deeply. "Oh, Harry! You're so silly! I've missed that."

There was a pause, maybe of thirty seconds or so. Hermione could feel Harry thinking, deliberating, maybe watching the Thames flow by as he decided if it was safe to send whatever it was he was writing. It ramped up Hermione's anticipation by a factor of fifty. She held her breath until her phone pinged again.

"I've missed you too."

Hermione squealed ... actually squeaked like a little mouse or something. She read the words again and again. She wanted them to be burned into her eyes.

"Aww ... he's missed me, Pap!" she hushed under her breath.

"Of course he has," the dæmon replied sagely. "But better not leave him hanging, though. He might think you find it weird that he has."

"Oh right!" Hermione yelped. She tried to type quickly again, but found that her hands were trembling. "Stupid fingers! Work properly!"

"I've missed you," Hermione eventually managed to type. "So, so much. I was so hoping to be able to see you over Christmas. I swear, when I get my hands on that basilisk I'm going to bite its eyes out for this!"

"LOL! These phones have cameras, you know, and I'm so going to film that!"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. Her hands hovered over the digital keyboard a moment. "Cameras, you say? So you can take pictures with them?"

"Yes. You can record videos too. You know, moving pictures."

"I know what a video is, Harry! I'm not totally backwards, you know!"

"Sorry. You're so complex I forget which bits of this world you know and which ones you don't. But REALLY I should know that you know EVERYTHING. You're just amazing like that."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione breathed lowly to herself, smiling so brightly that Pap felt like looking away. "Stop doing these things to me when you're so far away and I cant kiss you stupid for them!"

Ping. "Why were you so interested in the camera?"

Hermione gulped. It was time for a risk. "I was hoping you could take a picture and send it to me. I want to see you. I miss your face."

Another delay. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!"

Hermione laughed and blushed all at the same time. "My hair's a mess! I haven't brushed it before bed yet. It's all over the place and I haven't got any make-up on or anything."

"That's how I like you best xx."

Hermione felt her heart leave her body. Her mind had long gone with it.

"Okay, but can I wait until tomorrow? I need a shower to sort my hair, and I actually don't know how to take and send pictures yet. Can you wait till the morning?"

"Not really ... but I will!"

Hermione wished she could control her pulse. It was hammering so hard in her neck that Pap was pawing at it to keep it in.

"You can still send me yours?" Hermione chanced.

"Well that just wouldn't be fair, would it! If I have to wait, then so do you. So there!"

"That really isn't fair, Harry!" Hermione huffed at her phone. "I think I hate Harry a little bit, Pap!"

"No you don't, you love him," Papageno corrected piously. "We both do."

"Yes, we do," Hermione swooned with a beaming grin. She went back to her phone.

"Fine, spoilsport! But you had better send me two pictures to make up for your cheek! By the way, Pap says hello."

"Hi Pap, I'm sure you're reading this too. Merry Christmas. Hermione ... odd question ... and it's only because of Mum and her 'condition' ... but if you had a baby, would he or she have a little dæmon too? Not that you'll have one right now, obviously, but when you're older?"

There was something once invented called breathing, but Hermione had forgotten what it was and how to do it.

"What do I say?" Hermione hushed. "He's asking about children!"

"Why are you so panicked?" Pap asked. "It's not like he's talking about our children. Or is he?"

"I don't know," Hermione whispered. She took a deep breath. "No, of course he isn't. I'm just being silly."

"I think my children would have dæmons, yes. I saw a nursery once and all the babies there had them. They were all little things - tiny mice and humming birds and things - but yes, they had them."

"And what if you had a baby here? In this world?"

"I ... I really don't know."

"What would you prefer? Would you like them to have d æ mons or not?"

"I'd have to think I would like my babies to have them. Because I have one and that's what I'm used to. I would find it strange for my children to not have dæmons."

"I think I'd quite like my children to have dæmons, too. It would be so nice. I'm actually a bit jealous that you have Pap and my dæmon is stuck inside me."

Hermione blinked hard. "Pap ... is Harry saying he'd like to have children with me? Is that what he's saying?"

"Um ... I'm not sure. He's just saying he'd like his own children to have dæmons. Though that would mean going to our world -

"- and who else would he go there with?"

"Dont get all panicked. This is all just theoretical."

Hermione swallowed hard. "Of course it is. Just keep it light and breezy."

"If you want a dæmon, you can always borrow Pap! I think he quite liked staying with you!"

"I liked looking after him, too. But, Hermione, if it's weird that I keep touching him - and you don't like it - just tell me to stop. I'll understand. Lyra explained it a bit more to me."

"Lyra can just keep her big fat mouth shut!" Hermione seethed. When she was done Lyra was owed a telling off for sticking her nose in where it didn't belong. Hermione typed quickly. "I don't want you to stop, Harry. As long as you don't mind it, I don't either. Actually, I quite like it. It makes me feel close to you."

"I think that, too! But I know how ... personal ... it is now."

"We're best friends, Harry."

"Do you let your other friends touch Pap?"

"Well ... no."

"But I can?"

Hermione took another gulp of air. "As often as you want. The more often the better, actually."

Harry didn't respond with words. Just a smiley face and a little heart icon. Hermione shivered pleasantly as she read them. Where were these little pictures on the phone? She had to find them to send one back.

Then Harry sent another text. "I have to go. My Dad is tipsy and insisting I play drunken charades with them all. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to you before you went to bed."

Hermione smiled broadly. "And to tell me you missed me!"

"And that! Well, Merry Christmas, Hermione xxx"

"Merry Christmas, Harry. I hope I'll be waking up to those pictures you promised! xxx"

"I'll try. But don't blame me if they put you off your cornflakes! Goodnight xxx."

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione typed and spoke at the same time. Then she kissed her phone, which was her new favourite toy in the whole world, and slid herself happily into bed.