Christmas at the Burrow was a delightful whirlwind of chaos and joy, especially with two young Weasley boys in the house. Bill was practically the definition of "big brother" at this point, eagerly helping Charlie tear into presents and showing off his new "big boy" status with each task he undertook, while Charlie babbled and toddled around, thrilled by the attention and excitement around him. The air was filled with the scent of Molly's cooking, the warmth of a crackling fire, and the shrieks of children running around in their new Christmas jumpers.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a bittersweet twinge at having missed this last year. The Animagus transformation had kept her so preoccupied, she'd missed watching them grow and learn through the lens of these holiday traditions. But now, here she was, surrounded by laughter and love, fully immersed in the Weasley holiday spirit.

At one point, Bill shyly handed her a Christmas cracker, looking up at her with a mischievous grin. She smiled, giving it a good tug with him, and they both jumped when it popped, sending a small shower of golden stars and a tiny green dragon charm spinning into her hand.

"Oh, look, Charlie!" she laughed, holding up the charm for the younger Weasley boy, who squealed in delight, reaching out with his chubby hands. Hermione couldn't help but marvel at how easily she fit into this lively home, even if only in the role of cousin and older sister figure.

Later, as Molly set out a feast that seemed almost too grand for their small family gathering, she caught Hermione's eye and smiled warmly. "Glad we could have you here with us, dear," she said, squeezing Hermione's shoulder. "I'd nearly forgotten how wonderful it is to have another girl in the house. Maybe next year you'll show me how to make some Muggle recipes?"

"Of course!" Hermione replied, touched. "Thank you for letting me be part of this. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

As the quiet of the evening settled over the Burrow, and the house grew calm with Bill and Charlie finally tucked into bed, Hermione sat with Molly and Arthur by the fire, sipping on warm tea. They seemed content, a soft look of happiness passing between them as they exchanged a glance.

Molly reached over to squeeze Arthur's hand, her eyes glowing with a secret joy. "Hermione, dear," she began, her voice gentle. "We've been meaning to tell you something. It's a bit early yet, but... well, it feels right to share it now."

Arthur's smile was warm, and his arm draped over Molly's shoulder protectively. "We're expecting another little one," he said, his voice soft but filled with unmistakable pride. "Due sometime around the end of August."

Hermione's heart leapt as realisation struck her like a bolt of lightning. Percy. The orderly, proud, rule-abiding Percy Weasley, destined to come into the world surrounded by the chaotic, loving energy of this family.

"Oh! Congratulations!" she exclaimed, reaching out to give Molly a warm hug, and then turning to Arthur with a bright smile.

Molly's face glowed with happiness, and she gave Hermione's hand a squeeze. "Thank you, dear. It's always a blessing, isn't it?" she murmured, and Hermione could see the quiet love in her eyes.

As Hermione sat back, feeling the warmth of the moment, she couldn't help but think how Percy would fit perfectly into this ever-growing family, another piece of the puzzle in the Weasley clan. And for this moment, it was a secret only they shared, nestled in the heart of the Burrow on a Christmas night.

When Remus arrived at the Burrow, he was clutching a small, neatly wrapped package for Molly, a shy smile on his face. "Just a little thank you for having me," he said, handing it over, and Molly's face lit up as she unwrapped it, finding a beautifully bound herbal remedies book inside.

"Oh, Remus, this is just lovely!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a warm hug before immediately steering him to the kitchen table. "Now, sit yourself down and eat. You look like you could use a few good meals."

Hermione couldn't help but grin as Molly piled food onto his plate, not taking "I've already eaten" for an answer as he gave her a sheepish look over his food. It was only once he had cleared his plate and managed to fend off Molly's offer of seconds that she finally allowed them to head outside, shooing them out the door into the snowy fields around the Burrow.

The fresh air was crisp, the snow sparkling under the afternoon sun. Hermione adjusted her earmuffs, her wild hair framing her face, and gave Remus, cutely bundled up in a beanie, scarf, and thick mittens, a mischievous grin. "Ready?"

"Ready for what?" Remus asked, curious.

Hermione didn't answer—at least not with words. Instead, with a wink, she transformed into her ermine Animagus form, her sleek white fur blending almost seamlessly with the snow. She dove under the snow and started weaving tunnels, only to pop up at random intervals, always in a different spot from where Remus expected. She'd wait until he spotted her, then disappear again, leaving only her tail as a tease before vanishing back into the tunnels. The game had Remus laughing out loud, the sound echoing across the frosty fields.

Finally, after a few rounds of hide-and-seek, Hermione transformed back to her human form, cheeks flushed from the cold and exhilaration. Remus shook his head in amused disbelief, his breath visible in the chilly air. "You know, I think I just put it together—that ermine we saw in the meadow by Potter Manor over the summer. That was you, wasn't it?"

Hermione gave him a playful shrug, her smile giving her away.

He chuckled. "Hermione… ermine. Fitting, don't you think?"

"Oh, hush," she laughed, nudging him. "Took you long enough to figure it out."

Remus smiled, still taking it in. "How long have you been an Animagus?"

"Since April Fools," she replied with a smirk. "Remember that thunderstorm?"

Remus's face lit with recognition. "You mean when you and the boys tumbled back into the common room soaked and covered in mud? I should have known. You lot looked like you'd been wrestling with the elements."

She nodded, grinning. "That was us, alright. But the boys didn't make it through that round, thanks to ignoring my advice."

"What advice?" he asked, intrigued.

"They used leftover dew from my December harvest instead of collecting it fresh," she explained with a sigh. "I tried to warn them, but they thought they knew best."

Remus laughed, shaking his head at the memory. "So that's why you were sneezing up a storm last Christmas—you'd caught a cold sneaking out in the night for that harvest, hadn't you?"

"Guilty as charged," she admitted with a laugh, not correcting him that it was the set up and the harvest, though there was a tinge of embarrassment in her eyes. "But it was worth it. Just… not for the boys. They all lost their first attempt at the very start because none of them wanted to use a sticking charm to keep the mandrake leaf in place for a whole month. They were all so sure they'd manage without it."

At this, Remus let out a genuine laugh, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "So they all failed because of a bit of stubborn pride? That sounds about right."

"Pretty much." Hermione rolled her eyes, then her expression grew more serious. "You know, if they'd been able to finish it on time, maybe none of the mess with Snape would have happened, because we would have been there with you in the Shack."

Remus's laughter faded, replaced by a quiet understanding as he looked down at the snow. "Maybe. But what's done is done." He glanced back up at her, his voice softening. "Thanks for all of it, Hermione. Not just for what you did that night with Snape, but… for this, for sticking with me. You're the reason things aren't worse than they already are."

She reached over, giving his gloved hand a gentle squeeze. "Always in your corner, Moony. Always."

They sat quietly for a moment, watching the snow drift around them, their breaths puffing into the cold air. Despite the frosty weather, Hermione felt warmer than she had in a long time, knowing that Remus knew he could count on her, no matter what.

After catching Hermione and Remus sprawled out on the couch, tangled together in the most innocent yet familiar way, Molly gave them a pointed look before calling Hermione over for a "quick chat." Arthur took Remus out to his shed with a glint in his eye, mentioning something about "fascinating Muggle contraptions," which Remus, of course, couldn't resist.

Molly led Hermione to the cosy kitchen, where she sat down at the table and gave her a warm but curious look. "Now, Hermione, dear," she began, with the careful tone of someone who didn't want to seem too nosy but was decidedly curious. "I couldn't help but notice you and Remus seemed… comfortable."

Hermione tried to suppress a laugh, but it slipped out anyway. "Oh, Molly," she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face, "Remus is just a friend. He's… well, he's Remus."

Molly gave her a long, scrutinising look, though Hermione's sincerity must have been convincing because she seemed to soften, giving a little sigh. "I see. Well, I suppose I just wondered if there might be something there." She looked away for a moment, then added, "You know, it's just that you both seem… well, quite close."

"We are close," Hermione agreed. "But it's a friendship kind of close, you know? He needs someone steady in his corner, and I'm happy to be that for him."

Molly eyed her for a moment longer, then nodded, finally accepting Hermione's reassurance. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to hear it," she said, though her expression softened further. "Still, I'm a bit old-fashioned, I suppose. And, well… I wouldn't want you to end up in an awkward situation if… feelings were to change."

Hermione chuckled, appreciating the sentiment. "I understand. I think we're safe, though."

Satisfied, Molly gave a small, approving smile, though Hermione caught a glint of amused disbelief in her eye, as though she might still secretly think there was a chance for more.

The day before the Potters' New Year's party, Molly finally revealed the dress robes she'd chosen for Hermione. She led her upstairs with an air of mystery, her hands carefully cradling a garment bag.

"Now, I know you're not one for anything over-the-top, so I found something elegant but simple," Molly said, a twinkle in her eye as she unzipped the bag. Out slid the robes, a beautiful lavender shade with an understated shimmer to the fabric. The long sleeves were slightly fitted, and there was just the faintest bit of sparkle woven through the material, giving it a magical, moonlit glow.

Hermione's breath caught. "Oh, Merlin, this is beautiful," she murmured, fingertips grazing the delicate material.

Molly beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "Glad to see I still have the touch!" she chuckled, giving Hermione a gentle pat on the shoulder.

On the afternoon of the party, Molly pulled her aside again, practically buzzing with excitement. "Come on, let me help you get ready. You only get to do this once a year, after all."

She expertly braided Hermione's hair, leaving a few tendrils loose around her face for softness. Molly then opened her jewellery box, carefully selecting a set of simple but pretty silver earrings and a matching bracelet for Hermione to wear. She didn't often wear makeup, but Molly insisted on just a touch—a shimmery lavender eyeshadow that matched her robes, along with a swipe of mascara and a dab of gloss on her lips.

When Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognised her reflection. The subtle changes and Molly's thoughtful touches made her feel graceful and polished.

Molly smiled approvingly. "There. Just perfect. Now, remember to have fun, alright?"

At that moment, Remus stepped in, ready to leave for the Potters' with her. His jaw dropped slightly, and he stood there for a second, stunned in his nice brown robes.

"Wow. Hermione…" he stammered, then grinned. "Well, James won't know what hit him, that's for sure."

She rolled her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. "Oh, stop. He won't even notice."

Molly smirked knowingly but simply patted her on the shoulder. "You two go and enjoy yourselves. And happy New Year!"

With that, Hermione and Remus stepped into the Floo, disappearing in a swirl of green flames, the lavender shimmer of her robes the last thing Molly saw as she waved them off.

As the green flames dissipated, Hermione and Remus stepped out of the Floo, brushing off a bit of soot as they adjusted to the surroundings. They were immediately met by the welcoming committee—Effie, Monty, and James, all waiting with warm smiles.

Effie approached first, clasping Hermione's hands. "Oh, my dear, you look absolutely radiant!" She gave a little gasp, eyes lighting up as she took in the lavender robes and Hermione's braided hair. "Simply beautiful!"

Monty grinned, tipping an imaginary hat. "Quite the entrance, you two. Remus, you've scrubbed up well too."

But James just stood there, frozen, as if he'd been hit by a Lumos spell directly in the eyes. His usual cheeky grin had vanished, replaced with a look of wide-eyed astonishment as he took Hermione in, his gaze lingering on the shimmer of her dress robes and the gentle way her hair framed her face.

"James," Effie said, nudging him with a playful smile, "you're gawking."

James blinked, quickly recovering his composure, though a faint blush crept up his neck. "Uh—wow, Hermione, you… you look amazing," he stammered, running a hand through his hair with a sheepish grin. "I mean, not that you don't usually… just… yeah. Really amazing."

Hermione chuckled, feeling the warmth in her cheeks intensify but refusing to let it show too much. "Thank you, James. But you'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth."

Remus smirked, nudging James's arm. "Looks like someone's lost for words. And here I thought that was impossible."

James threw him a mock glare before breaking into his usual grin. "I'm still capable of speech, thank you very much. And don't you start, Moony, or I'll have to remind you of that time you—"

"Let's save that for later," Remus cut in quickly, eyes twinkling as he threw an arm around Hermione.

Effie laughed, taking Hermione's hand once more as she led her into the sitting room. "Come on in; we've got refreshments, and the music's already started in the ballroom. Everyone's eager to celebrate." She gave Hermione a warm wink. "It's lovely to have some fresh elegance around here, my dear. You're going to turn a few heads tonight, that's certain."

James cleared his throat, stepping into place beside Hermione as they made their way into the house. "So… save me a dance later?" he asked casually, though there was a hopeful look in his eyes that Hermione couldn't ignore.

Her smile softened. "Maybe even two, if you're lucky."

James grinned, his face lighting up, and together they entered the manor, where the sounds of laughter, music, and the excitement of the New Year awaited.

The evening buzzed with a strange energy, partly from the glamour of the party and partly from the unspoken tension between them all. Sirius, true to his word, kept a careful distance from Hermione and Remus, exchanging only the most polite nods across the room when necessary. Hermione was both relieved and somewhat distracted by it, still unsure how she felt about his restraint.

At first, she was perfectly content to stay with Remus, chatting by the refreshment table and occasionally taking to the dance floor for a relaxed waltz or two, his gentle presence keeping her grounded amidst the otherwise elaborate event.

But when James finally appeared to claim his promised dance, the tone shifted. He extended a hand with a playful, almost nervous smile. "I believe you owe me a dance, Miss Prewett," he said, eyes alight with something she couldn't quite decipher.

Hermione took his hand, feeling her pulse quicken. The room seemed to fade away as he led her onto the dance floor, his touch both warm and steady. She couldn't ignore the way he looked at her, the unyielding focus in his gaze as they moved in rhythm to the music. His hand rested lightly on her back, guiding her with the kind of care that sent a spark up her spine.

"You really do look incredible tonight," he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with something deeper.

"Thank you," she replied, managing a light laugh to ease the tension, though it did little to steady the fluttering in her chest. "And you look rather dashing yourself. Though I suppose you're quite used to hearing that."

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Not from you. You're usually… well, more blunt and no nonsense."

She felt her cheeks heat up but forced herself to keep eye contact. "No nonsense isn't the same as unkind."

"Good point," he replied, his gaze flickering down to where their hands were joined. "I like that about you."

Their steps grew slower, almost unintentional, and she felt herself get pulled into the intensity of his gaze. "James…" she began, unsure what she wanted to say.

But before she could finish, the music slowed, drawing them even closer. His eyes didn't leave hers, and the electrifying tension between them thickened, the unspoken promise lingering in the air as they stood there, closer than before, lost in the charged silence.

Realising just how closely they were holding each other, Hermione pulled back slightly, searching for a way to ground herself. "Well, I hope I haven't made you regret inviting me tonight."

He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "Regret? No. You're exactly where I want you." He said it softly, his voice low, and for a moment, neither moved.

Just then, a loud burst of laughter from across the room broke the spell. They turned, and Hermione noticed Remus giving her a knowing look from the edge of the dance floor, his expression a mix of amusement and genuine warmth.

James released her hand reluctantly, his grin softening. "I'll let you off the hook for now," he teased, stepping back with a playful bow. "But I'll be back for that second dance."

Hermione smiled, catching her breath as he walked away. She glanced back over at Remus, who was watching with a slight smirk, clearly aware of the subtle shift between them.

As she returned to the edge of the dance floor, Remus leaned in, chuckling softly. "You two looked like you were in a scene from one of those romance novels you pretend not to read."

"Oh, shut up," she mumbled, unable to hide her grin.

But as the night went on, she found herself glancing James's way more often than she'd anticipated, feeling that same spark linger between them, something neither of them could ignore.

The countdown began, and the room filled with excited cheers, laughter, and anticipation as everyone prepared to ring in the New Year. Hermione felt herself tense as James appeared beside her, his presence a comforting warmth amidst the bustle. She smiled at him, watching as he raised his glass in a small toast before setting it aside and turning his full attention to her.

"Three… two… one… Happy New Year!" The voices around them rang out, and without missing a beat, James leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss.

Her initial reaction was shock, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes wide and questioning. For a second, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, as if he half-expected her to push him away as she had with Sirius. But before he could withdraw, she made her decision, feeling a thrill rush through her as she committed to the moment.

Hermione leaned in and kissed him back, fully, fiercely, throwing caution to the wind. In that instant, she decided that it didn't matter what might happen months or even years down the line. If he'd end up with Lily, so be it—but for now, she had this small piece of time to hold on to, and she was determined to enjoy every second of it.

As they parted, she saw him smile in that unmistakable, dazzling way, his eyes bright with surprise and delight. "I didn't think…" he began, breathlessly, his hand still resting lightly on her waist.

"Happy New Year, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her own boldness but relishing in it just the same.

"Happy New Year, Hermione," he replied, his fingers brushing her cheek before pulling her into another kiss, soft and warm, with the kind of tenderness she hadn't anticipated.

The room was still roaring around them with laughter and noise, but in that moment, it all faded away. She knew this may not be forever, but that night, with James's hand in hers and the thrill of the new year shimmering around them, she allowed herself to believe that, just maybe, this was exactly where she was meant to be.

Hermione sat by the window of the Hogwarts Express, watching the familiar countryside blur past, her fingers idly brushing over her lips as if the memory of James's kiss lingered there still. A small smile tugged at her lips, but she tried to quell it, feeling the warmth bloom in her cheeks every time she thought of that night. She glanced over at Remus, who had barely looked up from his book but wore a knowing smirk that made her blush deepen. She could feel his silent amusement, though thankfully, he hadn't said a word about it… yet.

Almost halfway through the journey, as was becoming a tradition of sorts, James entered their compartment, shutting the door behind him and leaving Sirius and Peter elsewhere. Hermione's heart raced for a moment, unsure if he'd acknowledge what had happened at the party or if it would stay locked in that magical bubble of New Year's Eve. But as he moved toward her and took a seat beside her, his hand slipped effortlessly into hers, fingers entwining as if they'd always belonged that way.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, his voice warm and laced with that familiar, playful affection. Her breath hitched slightly, her cheeks instantly heating up at the unexpected but welcome endearment.

"Hi," she managed, her voice softer than she'd intended. The thrill of his words and the gentleness of his touch made her smile despite herself.

Remus cleared his throat, closing his book with a small thump. "I think it's about time for my prefect rounds," he said, casting them both an amused glance. "Enjoy yourselves."

He slipped out of the compartment, and Hermione chuckled as she watched him go, grateful for his discretion. When she turned back to James, he was watching her with an expression so tender it made her heart skip.

"So," he began, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in slow, comforting strokes. "You've been on my mind a lot since the party."

She looked down, biting her lip to stifle a grin. "Oh?"

"Yes, I'd say more than a lot," he said, leaning in a little closer. "Which might be a problem since Quidditch season starts up again soon. I'm going to be utterly distracted."

"Well, we can't have that," she replied, trying for nonchalance, though her voice trembled slightly from the closeness.

They both laughed, and it felt easy, natural, like nothing had ever changed between them except for this added layer of warmth and closeness. He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before letting his fingers rest on her cheek, his gaze searching hers.

"Thank you for coming to the party," he said, his tone quieter now, almost vulnerable. "I know it wasn't exactly… simple, with everything going on."

Her hand tightened around his, grounding herself in the reality of the moment. "It was worth it," she said, the sincerity clear in her voice. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

They sat like that for a moment, neither in any hurry to break the silence or the connection they had. Outside the window, the countryside stretched out in endless hills and trees, a perfect backdrop to the calm that had settled between them.

Eventually, James's hand slid from her cheek, and he settled back, still holding her hand in his. "So," he started, his tone turning playful again. "You'll come to my next Quidditch match then, right? I'll need all the support I can get."

"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Hermione replied, her face lighting up with a warm smile as she met James's gaze. Her words hung in the air, carrying a depth neither of them acknowledged aloud, as if the promise in her words was for more than just his next Quidditch match.

They shared a moment of quiet understanding, their fingers still entwined, the world outside the window slipping by in a blur. James's thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand, grounding her in the reality that, finally, after so much tension and uncertainty, there was something here—something real.

Just then, the door to the compartment slid open, and Lily Evans stepped inside, her eyes scanning for Remus. The sight of Hermione and James's joined hands caught her attention, and she stopped short, her expression shifting from surprise to something that was hard to read.

"Oh—sorry. I was just looking for Remus," Lily said, glancing between them. There was a slight lift of her brow, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she took in their closeness.

Hermione cleared her throat, feeling a warm flush rising in her cheeks. "He, uh, just stepped out to do his prefect rounds," she said, her voice catching slightly.

Lily nodded, though her gaze lingered on their entwined hands. "Right," she said, giving Hermione a soft smile that suggested she understood more than she was letting on. "Well… I'll catch him later, then."

As she turned to leave, Hermione couldn't help but feel a faint wave of embarrassment but also a strange sense of reassurance. Lily, perceptive as ever, didn't seem to mind seeing them together, and that subtle acceptance made Hermione's heart feel just a little lighter.

James gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his playful smile reassuring her as they watched Lily leave. "Think she'll spread that around the Gryffindor common room?" he asked, leaning in conspiratorially, his tone light but his eyes warm.

Hermione laughed softly, shaking her head. "I doubt it. She's the one who told me ages ago that you'd, well… that you'd been trying a bit too hard with her."

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "I suppose I deserved that. I can be a bit much, can't I?"

"Just a tad," Hermione teased, nudging him playfully. "But somehow, I find it… works for you."

They shared a soft laugh, the air between them light and easy. Hermione glanced out the window again, her heart racing as she thought of all that lay ahead, both with him and in the uncertain world they lived in.

"Thanks," he said suddenly, his voice softer. "For being here. It's strange, but it feels like… I don't know, like I can finally be myself."

Hermione looked back at him, her heart skipping a beat at the earnestness in his gaze. She knew that things between them might shift and change with time, that the road ahead could be complicated. But here, in this quiet compartment, it felt right.

"Me too," she replied, giving his hand one last squeeze.