Okay so there will not be a lot of Hogwarts in the next couple of chapters (pr maybe Ill be able to fit it into this one. Not sure yet). Hermione didn't stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, so she will be filled in on things later. So this will be about her being at home with her family for the most part.
I'm gonna enjoy filling in missing moments for Hermione. It will give me a chance to showcase and expand upon different relationships with the other students as well as her parents.
On with the fic!
Chapter 13: The Journey Home
In the middle of December, I woke up to a majestic world. Snow blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts like a pristine quilt, sparkling under the pale winter sun. Everything outside glistened as if the world had been enchanted overnight. The lake had frozen into a shimmering sheet of ice, reflecting the gray December sky, and I could hear the distant laughter of students daring each other to skate across its slippery surface. It was the kind of morning I had only read about in my favorite books—magical, otherworldly, and breathtakingly beautiful.
Inside the castle, warmth and cheer seemed to radiate from every corner. The Great Hall was a sight to behold. Twelve enormous Christmas trees stood proudly, each uniquely adorned. One was draped in twinkling fairy lights that danced like stars; another sparkled with icicles that looked like diamond shards. Holly and mistletoe were woven along the walls, and garlands of enchanted snowflakes floated lazily in the air. It was as if I had stepped into the pages of a fairytale.
As I made my way to the Gryffindor table, the smell of roasted chestnuts and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air. I spotted Harry and Ron chatting with Hagrid, his giant frame impossible to miss even in the festive bustle. I waved as I approached.
"How many days you got left till yer holidays?" Hagrid asked, his voice a warm rumble.
"Just one," I replied cheerfully, a bright smile spreading across my face. "And that reminds me, Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch. We should be in the library."
Ron grinned knowingly. "Oh yeah, you're right."
"The library?" Hagrid said, trailing after us as we headed out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is."
"You what?" Hagrid said, his expression shifting to alarm. "Listen here, I've told yeh to drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'!"
"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," I said sweetly, trying to downplay our curiosity.
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added with a smile. "We must've been through hundreds of books already, and we can't find him anywhere. Just give us a hint. I know I've read his name somewhere."
"I'm sayin' nothin'," Hagrid said stubbornly, crossing his arms.
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," Ron said with a casual shrug as we left Hagrid behind, determined as ever.
Ever since Hagrid had let it slip, we had made it our mission to find out who this Flamel bloke was. How else were we going to find out what Snape was trying to steal since Hagrid wouldn't say anything else about it? Problem was, we had no idea what book he would be in, and we had already looked through Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.
The library was quiet as ever, but even its usual stillness couldn't dampen the sense of determination that fueled our search. Towering bookshelves loomed over us, their dusty tomes filled with the secrets of the magical world. I handed Harry and Ron a list of subjects and titles that I thought might help, hoping this time we'd find something useful.
Ron wandered aimlessly between the shelves, pulling books at random. Harry, ever resourceful, made his way toward the Restricted Section. The gilded ropes marking it off glinted ominously in the dim light. We both knew we wouldn't be able to check anything out from there without a teacher's permission, but Harry seemed to think it was worth a try.
"What are you looking for, boy?" Madam Pince asked sharply, her sudden appearance startling us.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly, feigning interest in a nearby shelf.
"You'd better get out, then," she said sternly, brandishing her feather duster like a weapon. "Go on, out!"
Before we could protest, Harry grabbed Ron and me by our arms and ushered us out of the library. I couldn't help but grumble under my breath. "But we aren't finished yet!"
As we made our way to lunch, Harry became distracted by Oliver Wood, who seemed eager to discuss strategy for the next Quidditch match. That left Ron and me trailing behind.
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" I asked Ron earnestly. "And send me an owl if you find anything."
Ron shrugged. "You could always ask your parents if they know who Flamel is. It'd be safe enough to ask them."
I smiled at the idea. "Very safe, as they're both dentists."
"Then again," Ron said thoughtfully, "they probably wouldn't know much about it then would they? Being Muggles and all."
"Well, I have heard some of the names of famous witches and wizards in our world, only nothing magical is referenced to them." I explained.
Ron hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you sure you don't want to stay at school with us for the holidays?" His voice was casual, but I could sense the sincerity beneath it.
"My mum and dad are expecting me," I said softly. " Plus Christmas is always done big in my family. So I will have to be there."
"Is a Muggle Christmas different from a wizard one?" he asked curiously.
"I don't think so," I said, thinking of the festive cheer in the Great Hall. " From the looks of Hogwarts, it seems like they are both similar. We decorate the house, we get a tree, we cook lots of food, and there's presents. Same as here."
"I guess you get loads of gifts since you're an only child," Ron said with a grin.
I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean yes, I may get my fair share, but a lot are books and clothes. I did get a bicycle last year, though. That was nice."
Ron smiled. He didn't ask what a bicycle was, so I gathered he already knew what I was talking about.
"Just make sure you and Harry keep up the search for Flamel, okay?" I said as we reached the stairs.
"Of course, Hermione," Ron said with a smirk. "This is us we're talking about. Always on task, we are."
I rolled my eyes playfully. Somehow, I wasn't entirely convinced.
Two mornings later, I found myself dragging my suitcase along the cobblestone path toward the carriages that would take us to Hogsmeade Station. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and wood smoke, and frost sparkled on the ground like a blanket of diamonds. It felt like stepping into the pages of one of the Christmas storybooks Mama used to read to me.
Hogwarts castle stood tall behind us, its snow-covered towers glowing softly in the winter light. I glanced back several times as the carriages rolled along, feeling a bittersweet pull in my chest. The thought of being home with Mama and Papa filled me with excitement, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. I hoped that Ron would like his gift of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans, and surely Harry would enjoy his gift of deluxe chocolate frogs.
The train station buzzed with students carrying trunks and cages, their chatter mixing with the occasional hoot of an owl. Once aboard, I found a quiet cabin near the back and settled in by the window, my suitcase tucked safely overhead. As the train pulled away, Hogwarts grew smaller in the distance, fading into the snowy hills.
I felt a rush of anticipation thinking about home—our cozy house, the familiar warmth of the kitchen, and the comforting smell of Mama's pies baking in the oven. But alongside that excitement, a part of me couldn't shake the curiosity of what a magical Christmas would have been like. I pictured the Great Hall filled with enchanted snow, glowing candles, and gifts appearing magically beneath the trees.
As I stared out at the frosted landscape, the door to my cabin slid open, and Parvati Patil stepped inside. She wore a bright pink jumper with delicate embroidery, paired with jeans. Her dark hair was tied back neatly, and her cheeks glowed with excitement.
"All right there, Hermione?" she asked, settling onto the bench across from me.
"Hello, Parvati," I said, smiling. "I'm doing well. Are you excited to be going home?"
"Very! Christmas is always such a lovely time. Amma's already started making preparations—she'll have the house filled with the smell of masala chai and kulkuls by the time I get back. What about you?" Parvati asked, her eyes warm and curious.
"Oh, Mama loves Christmas too. She bakes pies—apple, pumpkin, sweet potato. The whole house smells wonderful for days," I said, smiling at the thought.
Parvati lit up. "Amma does something similar! She makes a huge batch of Kulkuls for the holidays. Baba loves them—he sneaks them from the kitchen before they're even served! We also have this tradition where she makes biryani for Christmas dinner. It's like her special gift to us."
"That sounds amazing," I said, intrigued. "Do you celebrate anything else during the holidays?"
"Well, it's a mix," Parvati explained. "We light diyas, just like we do for Diwali, to bring light and joy into the house. Amma always says it reminds us to celebrate life. Then, we decorate the tree together. Baba loves picking out ornaments—he insists on finding ones with elephants or peacocks. And every year, my sister and I try to outdo each other with presents. Last year, she got me a scarf enchanted to sparkle. I loved it!"
"That sounds so magical," I said earnestly. "We decorate too, but I think our ornaments are much simpler. And we sing carols—though Papa always sings off-key to make me laugh."
Parvati laughed, her eyes crinkling. "Baba does the same thing! He'll sing Indian film songs but replace the lyrics with Christmas words. It drives Amma mad."
We talked for a little while longer until Parvati checked her watch and said she needed to get back to her sister. "Enjoy Christmas with your family, Hermione," she said before leaving the cabin.
After Parvati left, the trolley lady came by, pushing her cart laden with sweets and treats. I could smell the sugary goodness before she even reached my cabin. My stomach gave a little growl, and I realized I hadn't eaten much breakfast.
I rummaged through my bag, finding a few coins I had saved from Hogsmeade. "I'll have a pumpkin pasty, please," I said, handing over the coins.
She smiled warmly as she passed me the treat. "Here you go, dear. Happy holidays!"
I settled back into my seat and unwrapped the warm pasty, its golden crust flaking slightly. The first bite was heavenly—the perfect balance of sweet and spiced pumpkin filling. I chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, though part of me wondered if Mama and Papa might scold me for indulging. They always tried to balance my sweet tooth with plenty of vegetables, but surely they'd forgive me this one time.
As the train rolled along, I watched the snow-covered countryside whip past the window. The fields sparkled under the pale winter sun, and the trees looked as though they'd been dipped in frosting. Villages dotted the horizon, their rooftops blanketed in white, with thin streams of smoke curling from chimneys. It felt like something out of a postcard, and I found myself daydreaming about how Hogwarts would look buried in even deeper snow.
I finished my pumpkin pasty, brushed the crumbs from my lap, and pulled out Hogwarts, A History to pass the time. As much as I was eager to see my family, a part of me was already missing the magic of school—the enchanted ceilings, the moving staircases, and even the bustling chatter of the common room.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the train began to slow, the landscape giving way to the familiar sights of London. Smoke from the train mingled with the gray winter sky as we pulled into King's Cross Station. I stood and grabbed my suitcase, my heart pounding with excitement.
The platform was a flurry of activity as students reunited with their families, hugs and laughter echoing all around. I scanned the crowd and spotted Mama and Papa standing near the barrier, bundled up in their winter coats. Mama waved enthusiastically, her face breaking into a radiant smile when she saw me.
"Hermione!" she called, her voice warm and full of joy.
I hurried over, dragging my suitcase behind me, and practically threw myself into their arms. Mama wrapped me in a tight hug, her familiar perfume—lavender and chamomile—wrapping around me like a second embrace. Papa ruffled my hair and laughed.
"There's our girl," he said, his voice brimming with pride. "Look at you. Have you gotten taller?"
"I missed you both so much," I said, my voice muffled against Mama's scarf.
"We missed you too, darling," Mama said, pulling back to look at me. "But you look so happy. Tell us everything! How was your first term?"
As we walked to the car, I launched into a detailed account of my classes, my excitement spilling over with every word.
As we drove through the bustling streets of London, the conversation flowed easily. Papa asked about my professors, Mama wanted to know all about my dormitory, and I described everything in vivid detail, from the cozy common room to the restricted section in the library.
I felt like I was repeating myself with some of it, as I had written a lot of this in letters. But I guess my parents wanted to hear it from me first hand.
When we finally pulled into our driveway, the sight of our little house, with its wreath on the door and the warm glow of lights in the windows, filled me with a sense of comfort I hadn't realized I'd been missing.
"I can't wait to show you everything I've learned," I said as we unloaded my suitcase. "Well, in written form. Underage witches and wizards aren't allowed to do magic in the muggle world. Did you know that?"
Mama laughed. "I certainly do now."
As soon as I stepped inside my house, I was cheery as I always am when Christmas is around. The house sparkled with Christmas magic. The banister was wrapped in twinkling fairy lights, and a wreath with a big red bow hung on the door. In the sitting room, a massive tree stood proudly in the corner, glowing with golden ribbons, shiny ornaments, and the brightest star on top.
"Mama! Papa! It's perfect!" I exclaimed, my heart racing with excitement.
I ran up the stairs, my father coming after me with my suitcase. I had missed my room. My little safe haven. I was eager to be in it again.
In my room, I found a smaller tree by the window, decorated with tiny paper chains and book-shaped ornaments.
"You even got me a tree!" I said down to them. A very nice surprise indeed.
"Of course, sweetheart," Mama said, her voice warm.
Papa chuckled, "We knew you'd love it."
Everything felt magical and homey, like the best welcome back I could've imagined. I was exhausted so I quickly changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. I wasn't in bed longer than 10 minutes before I drifted off to sleep.
It felt so good to be home.