Summary:
Baby, It's Cold OutsideBy: Potato19 Set during OOTP. The story of how Hermione's innocent suggestion of running a Secret Santa with the DA leads to the ultimate search for the perfect presents, an unexpected change in holiday plans, late-night mistletoe-kisses and revelations of profound feelings hidden deep down. Total HHr.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Family - Harry P., Hermione G. - Chapters: 12 - Words: 75,620 - Reviews: 256 - Favs: 1,824 - Follows: 705 - Updated: Jan 3, 2017 - Published: Dec 29, 2016 - Status: Complete - id: 12296750
Chapter 1
His hands were shaking from the cold.
Harry Potter stared down at his gloved fingers before he tucked his hands under his armpits to warm them up. He knew he was being stubborn, but he just couldn't bring himself to go back into the Castle. Staying outside was a form of defiance towards the powers that be, and he was determined to see it through until it was absolutely necessary for him to seek warmth.
"You're going to give yourself a cold, Potter."
Harry looked up from his position perched on a large rock overlooking the Black Lake, to see his best friend approaching him cautiously. Hermione Granger was all bundled up for the cold, looking rather adorable in her Gryffindor beanie and matching scarf. She was careful with where she placed her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was slip and end up in a pit of snow.
"Scoot over," she instructed him once she was near enough, and he happily shifted, making room for her. Because of the height of the rock, she had to jump up to take her place beside him and she almost slipped off, so she was forced to grab onto his arm to steady herself. "Oh my God, Harry," she suddenly exclaimed, squeezing his arm tight. "Isn't your bottom frozen?"
Despite his earlier foul mood, Harry let out a laugh. "I think that it's actually gone numb," he informed her.
Hermione did not let go of his arm, rather choosing to hug it to her chest, as if they could transfer precious warmth between them. Harry ended up resting his hand on her lower thigh, and he had to resist the urge to tuck it between her legs for the warmth. That would just be... too far.
"Well, I'm starting to think that coming out here was a better idea until I actually did it," she muttered, just managing to stop her teeth from chattering.
"Didn't anyone tell you that it's cold outside?" he asked, risking a smile.
"My best friend could have told me," she said; "but he was nowhere to be found." She waited, knowing full well that he wouldn't comment. "What are you doing out here, Harry?" she eventually asked. "It's freezing!"
Harry chuckled. "It's not that bad," he said, absently squeezing her lower thigh. "It's not even snowing."
Hermione stared down at where his hand was on her leg, feeling self-conscious of the way she was gripping his arm for the first time. Her sudden panic must have showed on her face because he softly blew on her cheek to get her attention.
"Hey," he said, his eyes shining with mirth. "What's up?"
She took a deep breath. "How long have you been sitting out here?"
He dropped his gaze. "Not long," he mumbled, and they both knew it was a blatant lie. He cleared his throat. "Is life always going to be this unfair, Hermione?" he asked quietly, his breath fogging up as he spoke. "I mean, I've accepted a lot that this world has thrown my way, but - " he stopped and sucked in a sharp, cold breath.
Hermione was too cold to brave actually hugging him properly, so she just tightened her hold on his arm. She didn't know how else to comfort him, or to let him know that she understood without actually voicing whatever he was determined not to say out loud.
"When is enough going to be enough?" he asked softly, almost whispering.
Hermione couldn't see the back of his left hand because of his glove but she knew what was there, and she absolutely hated it. It made her blood boil with just how much she hated that ridiculous excuse for a... human being. Hermione had long since lost her undying faith in their professors. How could they knowingly allow that woman to continue to teach when - Hermione sighed. There was no use getting worked up over something she couldn't control.
Her Harry was hurting, and that did not sit well with her.
Hermione had no answers for him, and the encouraging words she wanted to say sounded flat in her own head, so she didn't bother with them. Instead, she decided to distract him. "Sirius wrote to me," she said, knowing that would pique his interest.
Harry brightened instantly, the mention of his godfather too tempting. "Really? What about?" he asked. Then he paused; "Umm, if you don't mind my asking, that is," he added nervously.
She smiled warmly at him. "He asked me about you, and what you liked," she told him. "He wants to get you the perfect Christmas present, but he doesn't really know you well enough yet, so he asked me to tell him all about the wizard who risked his life to save him."
"A wizard who couldn't have done any of it without a certain witch," Harry said candidly, his earlier mood temporarily forgotten.
Hermione blushed, and was suddenly thankful for the cold. It could be the excuse for her red cheeks.
"So, what did you tell him?" Harry found himself asking, suddenly very interested in what Hermione could have told his godfather. "I hope nothing bad."
As if there was anything bad to tell, Hermione thought, and then checked back on her realism. Harry was a human being, flaws and all, and yet he was still perfect. Wow, she was in deep trouble.
"Hermione," Harry prompted, looking amused at how distracted she suddenly was. "What did you tell him?"
She let out a breath, giggling quietly. "Well, I told him that you like treacle tart and sugar quills," she explained. "You love flying, and you love your friends and would do anything to protect them and keep them safe. I told him that you're true, and you're strong, and that I've never been ashamed to be your friend, or any prouder of you than right now."
Harry blinked.
"I also told him that he's missed so much, and that he's going to have to make it up to you somehow."
His eyes widened. "Hermione!"
She didn't shy away from his outburst. "It's the truth, Harry, and he agreed with me."
"He did?"
"Of course he did," she said easily. "He cares about you a lot, and he's excited to be able to spend this coming Christmas with you, even if it'll be behind closed doors. I don't know why but I'm convinced this is going to be a great Christmas, Harry."
"You sound so sure," he commented lightly, smiling at the distant look in her eyes.
Hermione gripped his forearm tightly. "I'm willing it to happen," she told him timidly. "Don't laugh at me. You might jinx it."
"I won't laugh," he assured her. "I want this to be a great Christmas as well."
Hermione sighed and leaned into him a little more, surprised by her own boldness. It helped that he didn't seem to mind. "So, I actually did come out here for a reason other than to annoy you," she said, offering him a small smile.
"You're not annoying me," he said, glancing at her. "I like sitting here with you, despite the cold."
Hermione met his gaze, brown eyes locking on green. She didn't know if he could see the worry, confusion and happiness reflected in her eyes. Because she worried, sometimes, that the core of who she was as a person made it difficult for people to spend time with her. She'd spent years being the insufferable know-it-all, but now she was best friends with this wonderful boy who seemed to accept her, bookworm tendencies and all.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, looking away from the heat of her gaze for a moment. He took a breath before he looked back at her, smiling at her flushed cheeks and slightly pink nose. Harry loved winter sometimes.
"I had this idea," she began, somewhat nervously; "about having a Secret Santa with the DA."
Harry blinked, taking it in, and then his face broke out in a wide grin. "That's a great idea!" he said, tugging on his arm and pulling her closer.
She looked a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "Oh."
"Oh what?"
"I thought that I would have to explain what it was," she said, sounding embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
Harry nudged her gently with his shoulder. "I know I lived in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years, but I do know some things, Hermione."
For a moment, she was convinced that she'd offended him, but then he started to laugh, and her heart rate slowly came back down to a rate that was just above normal. It would never reach normalwhile in Harry's presence these days and it was definitely turning into a problem.
"But I do really think it's a good idea," he said, his laughter tapering off. "Or did you want to practice explaining it to me, you know, before you told the rest of the group?"
"Do you mind?"
Harry turned slightly, taking a bit of his arm back, so he could look at her properly. He was determined to give her his full attention. "Go on, Professor Granger; I'm listening."
She rolled her eyes, took a breath and then proceeded to explain her complete idea to him. Even as she spoke, she was fully aware of the fact that his eyes never drifted from her face. He was listening intently, and he was hearing her. There were times in their friendship when she knew he wasn't paying attention, but this was not one of them. It was actually a little distracting, seeing as he was so close, but she pushed through her explanation until she was happy that she'd covered everything.
"So, what do you think?" she asked. "Do you think they'll go for it?"
Harry waited a beat, before he nodded. "We'll make sure to tell them that it doesn't have to be anything big or expensive," he said. "Just, well, umm, it has to be thoughtful, and not everyone has to participate if they don't want to. But I think it'll be fun."
"We need some fun," she agreed, absently referring to the residual anger that seemed to be permanently inhabiting her best friend. She just wanted to see him happy; wanted to hear his laugh and see that lopsided grin that always managed to make her breath catch. "Everything is always so serious around here, and I get that that's the way that our lives are right now, but I think we need this. Something light, festive, and happy."
"You don't have to convince me, Hermione."
"Maybe I'm trying to convince myself," she said in a whisper and it was amazing that he heard her at all.
Harry responded by squeezing her lower thigh again, less flustered by the idea now that his hand had been on her leg for quite some time. "We'll tell them in our next meeting."
"Which is tomorrow, Harry."
"I knew that."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, what am I ever going to do with you?"
"Well, if you weren't holding my arm in your death grip, I think you'd probably be kissing the snow right now," he said with a grin that made her heart skip beats. Not even just one; many.
Hermione automatically made to release his arm, but Harry shook his head.
"I'm teasing," he assured her. "I like it," he admitted shyly; "it's like you've claimed me."
Hermione just blinked, unsure how to respond. What could she even say to something like that? Did he know? Did he know what his words could do to a teenage girl? Even a girl who desperately held onto her composure around him like Hermione Granger?
Harry took a shaky breath. "Did you really come out here just to tell me about the Secret Santa idea?" he asked, eager to change the subject. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights but, the second he started talking again; she seemed to return to herself. What had he said?
"Partly," she confessed. "I also thought, maybe, umm, that you needed a friend," she said, her voice dropping in volume. "I wanted to distract you, maybe make you forget the heavy stuff for a little while."
He kept his eyes on her. "But it's freezing!"
Hermione's hold on his arm tightened. "I'm not so sure," she said, glancing down at his hand on her leg. "I'm feeling quite warm; how about you?"
Harry grinned at her. "If you catch a cold; you're not allowed to blame me," he said, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping from his lips. "Let it be known that Hermione Granger has made her own decision to remain at Harry Potter's side, despite the bitter cold."
If he only knew, she thought. She would remain at his side, always. She would never go. "Aren't you the one who said that it wasn't that bad?" she asked. "Something about it not even snowing?"
As if on cue and, before Harry could even reply; it started to snow. It came slow at first, landing gently on their clothes and in Harry's hair. Harry couldn't get over how wonderful she looked with snow on her eyelashes, her pink face and a happy, carefree smile framing her perfect features. She looked young and happy and breathtaking.
"Amazing," she said lightly, looking up at the sky.
Harry also looked up, wanting to see what she was seeing. It wasamazing. He absently opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, the child in him wanting to catch the snow. With that in mind, he turned to look at Hermione, temporarily caught off guard by the shining in her eyes. "Say, Hermione?"
She didn't even look at him. "Hmm?"
"Is there some kind of spell that can, umm, catch a single snowflake?" he asked, suddenly embarrassed. Would she laugh at how absurd his question was?
Hermione closed her eyes, visibly thinking. She even started to hum to herself, which just made him watch her in awe. Yes. That's what it was. Awe. Eventually, she opened her eyes to look at him. "I'm sure there are ways," she said; "just no single spell, I don't think. I can find out, if you'd like."
"Oh, no, don't worry about it," he said, smiling. "I was just curious, but thank you."
Hermione made a mental note anyway. She would do a bit of research about it, mainly because the question had to have some significance for Harry. He wouldn't have mentioned it if it didn't. It was something she learned early on. With Harry Potter, it was important to pay attention to the small things; the things he swept under the rug when he thought nobody was looking.
The next time Harry felt her shiver; he suggested that they go inside and get warmed up before dinner. Hermione was surprised by her own reluctance to leave their position. She knew it had very little to do with the warmth of their position, but more to do with Harry and their position.
"I promise you can still hold onto my arm once we're inside," he said teasingly. "I'm just afraid, you know, that I'll get frostbite and it'll end up falling off. Then what will you do?"
Hermione rolled her eyes as she released his arm and stretched her back out. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a drama queen?"
Harry watched her cat-like grace with wide eyes, somewhat transfixed by her movements. "Uh - " he sputtered.
Hermione threw him an amused look before she launched herself off the large rock, stumbling slightly as she landed. She turned to glare at him when he let out a small laugh at her expense. Her one hand moved to rest on her hip as she waited for him to join her.
Harry had a lot more poise as he slipped off the rock and landed steadily right beside her. He was grinning like a fool, enjoying the unimpressed look she was shooting him a little too much. Innocently, Harry thrust out his right arm for her, which made her smile. It was the kind of smile that pulled on his heartstrings, forcing him to open his eyes and take notice.
Hermione gratefully took hold of his arm and leaned into him, suddenly unafraid of their proximity. They were Harry and Hermione. This was what they did.
The walk back to the Castle was slow. Hermione almost slipped a few times and her grip on Harry was sometimes the only thing that kept her upright, though he made no comment on that until they were safely within the corridors, on their way to the Gryffindor Common Room. They didn't encounter any students on their way, so Hermione felt comfortable enough resting her head on his shoulder, her heart thumping in her chest. She hoped that he couldn't feel it.
Harry brought them to a stop just before they reached the Fat Lady, and moved to stand in front of Hermione. Gently, he dusted the snow off her shoulders, her scarf and hair he could reach.
She playfully swiped at his hands. "I can do it," she said proudly.
He just gave her a toothy grin.
Hermione returned his smile, while she dusted off the snow on hiscoat. "I really do hope you don't catch a cold," she said absently. "Maybe we should have stopped by the Kitchens to get some hot soup or some tea."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You just want to spend more time with me, don't you?"
Hermione ran a hand through his hair, using the excuse of wiping snow from his already damp strands. She was blushing and, as soon as they entered the Common Room; she wouldn't have the cold as an excuse anymore. It was as if he knew, and he was just doing it on purpose.
Harry didn't want to go inside just yet. "So, if I, umm, if I don't get you for this Secret Santa thing; does that mean I won't be able to buy you a present as well?"
"You don't have to," she said, smiling happily. "Really, Harry, I don't expect anything from you."
"But what if I want to?"
"Then I'm not going to stop you," she said, exaggerating a sigh.
Harry absently pulled her beanie down, as it had risen up to reveal her ears. Her very pink and adorable ears. "Thank you," he said softly.
"For what?"
"Does there actually have to be one specific thing?" he asked, meeting her gaze. "Can't it just be for everything?"
Hermione just looked at him, wondering what brought this all on.
"Or, better yet, thank you, for all that you are, and all that you're not," he said, stepping towards her. "Is that enough?"
Hermione blinked, and then nodded numbly, her voice failing her. She would never survive the rest of this year if it was going to go on like this. Something was going to have to give.
Harry looked like he was going to say something more, but the sound of students coming down the corridor stopped him, and he took an automatic step back from Hermione, as if he were suddenly realising how close to her he was standing. He laughed nervously, and rubbed the back of his neck with his still-gloved hand.
"We should go inside," she said, clearing her throat. "We could probably get started on Transfiguration before dinner."
Harry just smiled. "Lead the way, pretty girl," he said softly, and her eyes snapped towards him. "What?" he asked innocently.
"What did you just call me?" she asked, her voice shaky.
Harry sounded equally uneasy. "Uh - pretty girl?"
Her brow furrowed. "Why?"
"I would think it was rather self-explanatory," he said, smirking slightly. "And, I guess, I kind of want to have my own nickname for you," he admitted. "Do you hate it? I can come up with something else, if you'd like."
"No," she rushed. "You just surprised me."
"That's me," he said smugly. "I'm just full of surprises."
Hermione just shook her head as she turned and made her way towards the portrait hole. She wasted no time in saying the password to gain them entry, and then she was stepping through into the Common Room. Once they were in the warmth of the room, Hermione threw him a somewhat dreamy look, and then disappeared up the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.
Harry missed a step at the sight, drawing the attention of a few students; but he managed to laugh it off, as he made his way to his own room. None of his roommates were around, so he was able to retrieve his books in peace. He wasn't sure he wanted to explain where he'd disappeared to after classes. He wasn't even surprised that Hermione was the one to find him, or to come at all.
She really was a great friend.
The word gave Harry pause. Friend. It just seemed too insignificant to describe just what Hermione Granger was to him. Perhaps it came from the fact that they'd saved each other's lives before, but they needed a word that was somehow just more.
When Harry made it back to the Common Room, Hermione was already seated at what was now known as the Trio's table. When they weren't in the library, this was where they worked; Hermione acting as ringleader and Harry and Ron her reluctant circus acts.
Harry, admittedly, was more attentive whenever it did come down to schoolwork, though he wasn't nearly at the level of Hermione Granger. Nobody was. Not even some of the Ravenclaw students. Hermione Granger was one of a kind, and it sometimes bothered her when her fellow students couldn't see the merit in being more like her when it came to their studies.
It took Harry pointing out that not everyone could be like her, and that it wasn't fair to expect everyone to be, to calm her down when she worked herself up with thoughts about her House's relative incompetency. She'd get flustered and red in the face, and Harry thought her ranting was sometimes rather cute.
Hermione quickly got them both working, and only spared the redhead a disapproving look when Ron Weasley eventually joined them after he'd run amok throughout the Castle with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan.
Ron just shrugged as he settled in on Harry's left diagonal. Harry learned early on that it was wise - and sometimes potentially dangerous - for him to sit between them. He acted as a buffer more often than not, and today was no different. Ron started to slack earlier than Harry anticipated, and Hermione lost her patience quicker than usual.
They started to bicker and Harry wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. When they both stood up, they drew the attention of other students, who quickly shrugged it off as something they'd all seen before.
"Merlin, would you just stop nagging me?" Ron eventually shouted, his irritation getting the better of him.
Hermione huffed, her arms folding across her chest. Harry looked like he wanted to say something to defend her but she gave him a significant look that told him that she could handle this. Hermione squared up to Ron, reaching her full height and glaring at him. "You call it nagging," she said bitterly, her voice rising; "but I call it 'listen to me the first time, dickhead.'"
There was absolute silence in the Common Room for a good few seconds, before Ron gasped, and Harry burst out laughing. The raven-haired wizard even doubled over from his own laughter, and dropped down into his chair as he clutched at his stomach.
It took Hermione a moment more to realise that all eyes were on her, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction on most of the faces of their fellow students. Her cheeks flamed red, and she made a move to bolt from the room, but Harry's sudden hold on her wrist stopped her. He stood up again, his laughter still evident in his eyes.
"Stay," he said quietly enough for only her to hear. Then, louder, he said: "That was amazing, Hermione." He sounded so sincere. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was also quite red. "You deserved that, mate," he said, and that ended it all. The other students returned to what they were doing, and the Golden Trio gathered into an impromptu huddle.
Hermione was astutely aware that Harry had yet to let go of her wrist, his fingers pressed against her pulse point and forcing her breathing to remain erratic. Did he even realise what he was doing? Hermione reasoned that it would probably be worse if he actually did.
While the leaders of the DA stood together, Hermione explained to a still-red Ron that she had an announcement to make at the end of the next night's meeting, so they would probably have to cut the actual practical part short. When he asked why, Harry and Hermione merely exchanged a look, and then they both grinned at him.
"It's a surprise," they said at the same time, and then they both burst out laughing.
It merely confused Ron, and he suddenly couldn't help the worry that he felt. Or was it fear? Not because of the surprise, but because of, well, Harry being Harry with Hermione. Ron had been jealous of Harry plenty of times, but this was the first time that he'd truly acknowledged his jealousy of the kind of friendship Hermione honestly had with Harry. Somehow, Ron just knew that, if push came to shove; Harry would choose to trust Hermione before he chose to trust Ron, and that made him feel uneasy.
Harry's laughter tapered off, and he regarded his redheaded friend curiously. "Oh, don't worry, Ron," he said lightly. "It's a good surprise; I promise."
Ron noticed the lightness of his friend, and couldn't help being surprised that Hermione managed to have accomplished such a thing. Harry had been closed, guarded and bordering dark at times this term, so this was different and pleasant. Ron stamped down on his own unnecessary emotions. How could be possibly be jealous of that?
"Now, please can we return to our essays?" Hermione asked - though it most definitely was not a question. She made a point of glaring at Ron, who silently returned to his seat.
Harry could only smile at the satisfied look on Hermione's face as he also sat back down. "Amazing," he whispered under his breath, picking up his quill and resuming his writing.
But Hermione heard him.
She had vivid dreams.
Hermione Granger didn't normally dream in black and white, but this night was different. Her dreams consisted of snapshots of a certain wizard, standing with her under falling snow, with whispered words and warm, chaste kisses.
She woke up flushed and smiling, her heart beating wildly. She felt childish. She was sixteen years old. Surely that was too old for schoolgirl crushes and endless dreams about a certain green-eyed wizard. Surely.
But that was what Harry did to her. It hadn't always been this way, which was what was so annoying. Before this year, all she had been was his ever-present best friend, but now... things were just different this year, and she couldn't quite pinpoint when everything changed for her. Because things had.
Hermione liked him.
No. It was more than that, but probably less than love, because there was no way for Hermione to know for sure. How could she? She'd never even liked someone this way before.
Hermione eventually climbed out of bed and went about getting ready for the day. Despite the previous evening's disruptions, she, Harry and Ron had all managed to finish their Transfiguration essays, which freed up some time for this evening's DA meeting. There wasn't much in the way of lesson planning for this meeting, as she and Harry decided that they wouldn't tackle anything new until after Christmas.
The day itself went rather slowly. Despite her excitement over the idea of Secret Santa, she felt nervous about it as well. It was a very Muggle thing to suggest and she was a little worried about how the wizards who weren't familiar with Muggle-lore would take it.
Harry sensed her unease during their last lesson of the day, and he could only guess what it was about. He tried to get her attention to ask what was on her mind but she wouldn't look at him, and he just knew that it was on purpose. She was determined to work through whatever was bothering her by herself, and Harry was going to respect that. For now, at least.
She seemed to come back to life when the three of them started on their way to the Room of Requirement. He spotted her moving her lips, mouthing her little speech to herself as she walked. He didn't understand why she was so worried, but he didn't try to diminish her worries by telling her that she had nothing to worry about. Hermione was the most logical person he knew so, if she was worried, she probably had a good reason.
Harry confidently led the DA meeting, doing several demonstrations before having them partner up to, once again, practice the Stunning Spell. It wasn't a particularly complicated spell, but he was keen to get them to start dodging as well. He and Hermione decided on the Shield Charm as the next thing the group covered once they got back from their Break.
Once Harry called an end to proceedings, he handed over to Hermione, who looked rather pale.
There were twenty-eight people in Dumbledore's Army and, even with two members standing on either side of her - Ron and Harry - Hermione still felt a little overwhelmed. She glanced at Harry, who was giving her an encouraging smile, and then proceeded to speak.
"We've all been working very hard this year," she began, holding their attention in a very Harry-like way. "I know I'm not the only person who's proud of the progress we've all made. We will probably have only one more meeting before we break up for Christmas, which is why I thought it would be a nice idea to do a DA Secret Santa."
She waited for the murmuring to erupt and then die down. From the mixture of confused and excited faces, she knew she was going to have to explain.
"Basically, a Secret Santa is when you receive a gift from someone who picks your name out of a hat," she explained crudely. "I have this hat here," she said, taking the Santa's hat from Harry as he handed it to her; "and what we'll do is put everyone's name into it. Of course, not everyone has to participate, but I reckon it will be fun. You might have to get a present for someone you're not particularly close to, but you get a gift out of it as well, and I think it will help us learn about one another." She paused to make sure people were still paying attention. "We'll trade gifts during our last meeting next week, and note how there is a Hogsmeade weekend strategically placed between now and then.
"With that said, this is really just a little game, which means that the presents shouldn't be big or expensive, just thoughtful." She glanced at Harry again, and he nodded encouragingly. "I thought maybe, on the pieces of parchment, we could also list a few things that we like, just to make it easier for whoever ends up picking us." She was met with silence, but she soldiered on. "It's something light, to try to take away from all the dark we've had to deal with this year, so, umm, how does that sound?"
There was more silence.
"I think it sounds great," Harry suddenly said, to which several people started to agree, much to Hermione's relief. She threw him a grateful smile, which he acknowledged with a nod.
Hermione proceeded to hand out the little pieces of paper. "So, just write your names on the top, and then a few things that you like. For example, umm, I like books and I like knitted things... things like that." She wasn't sure why she blushed, but she did, and Harry's knowing smile didn't help. "Just random things, really. Once you're done, just fold the piece of paper, and pop it in the hat." She held the hat out in front of her.
Of course, she and Harry had already done their lists, so they were the only two left with nothing to do while the rest of the group busied themselves, some of them having to dig deep to discover what they actually liked.
"What if we get someone we don't like?" Zacharias Smith asked.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, before Harry spoke up. "What would you like someone to get for you if they were to pick your name?" he asked pointedly. It was no secret that Harry wasn't particularly fond of the loud Hufflepuff, and the fact that he'd responded at all to Smith's question was enough to let everyone know that Harry felt quite strongly about the spirit of this game being played out the right way.
Wisely, Smith didn't respond, and just popped his name into the hat. Once all the names were in, Hermione gave it a thorough shake, mixing up all the names until she was satisfied. Harry chuckled on her left side, and she looked at him quizzically.
"I think it's enough, Hermione," he said, sounding amused.
She flushed.
"Go on," he said, prompting her forward.
"It's a Secret Santa," Hermione reminded them as she approached the first group of students. "So don't let anyone know who you've got; it takes away from the fun that way," she instructed as Ginny Weasley pulled out the first name.
Everyone watched as she unfolded the piece of paper and smiled. The redhead had to force herself not to look in the direction of her chosen name, which made Hermione smile.
"Luna, you're next," Hermione said, and so it went on. "Remember, this is all for a bit of fun, so don't go overboard, and do try. We need some Christmas spirit."
Harry merely watched as Hermione commanded the room with the kind of grace that he was coming to associate with her. She moved from student to student, a small smile framing her face. This was a great idea, and he couldn't help letting her know when she finally came around to him and Ron.
"Just pick," she said, her cheeks tinging pink.
Harry did as he was told and reached into the hat, keeping his eyes on her as he did so.
"You are so weird," she finally commented, as she moved on to Ron.
Harry didn't say anything as he peeked at his piece of paper. He had to school his features to make sure his face didn't break out into a full on grin. He might have even done a small happy dance if he wasn't in a crowded room. Without saying a word, he pocketed the piece of paper and looked around, somewhat surprised to see several eyes on him. Mostly girls.
Of course they'd want Harry Potter to have picked them.
Once Hermione was sure she'd gone through everyone, she returned to her initial position between Ron and Harry. She was, of course, the last to pick, seeing as she had been the one walking around with the hat. She stuck her right hand in, picked up the last piece of paper and unfolded it. At first, she was convinced that her eye were deceiving her, but a few blinks later; the name was still written there in scrawl that she knew all too well.
Harry Potter.
Chapter 2
II
Harry Potter.
Hermione Granger was sure her face gave away her shock and excitement, but nobody seemed to be paying close enough attention. Except Harry, of course, and he felt something ugly twist within him. Who had she picked? Whose name could result in such a reaction from his best friend?
"Who picked Harry?" someone asked, jolting Hermione from her wayward thoughts. She was already thinking hard about what she could possibly get the wizard in question. This was the perfect opportunity to - to what? To show him that she liked him more than either of them were ready for.
"Anyone willing to swap?" someone else asked.
Hermione took a deep breath before she spoke up. "No swapping," she said, loud enough for them all to hear over the sound of their own voices. "That isn't in the spirit of the game," she pointed out. "And believe me, if you try; I will know."
The way she said it, made them all believe her. After what she accomplished with their bewitched coins; it would be wise not to underestimate the young Gryffindor witch.
"I think that's all for today," she said, smiling happily, and then watched as several students started for the exit.
Harry came up close behind her. "I think you're the only person I know who could possibly terrify a room like that and look so happy about it," he commented mildly, clearly amused.
Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, surprised to find him standing as close as he was. She resisted the urge to put some distance between them and just smiled at him. "Well, I'm a regular old pro, aren't I; having to deal with you and Ron on a daily basis."
"Oh yes; I'm deadly afraid of you," he said, grinning.
"As you should be."
Harry stepped closer to her, dropping the volume of his voice. "So, are you going to tell me who you picked for your Secret Santa?"
She turned to face him fully, her eyes wide. Did he know? "And why would I do that?"
If Harry was surprised by her initial reaction, he didn't let on. He just continued to look at her with innocent, green eyes and a happy little smile. "Because I asked so nicely," he said, almost singing the words.
"You didn't even say the magic word," she pointed out.
Harry exaggerated a pout, and bat his eyelashes endearingly. "Pleeaase."
Hermione felt her body stiffen. Goodness, why was he so perfect? What was she expected to say to that face? Truly, if he kept it up; she would probably reveal every single one of her secrets.
Before Hermione could formulate a suitable response, Ron was stumbling towards them, looking concerned.
"What's wrong?" Harry was quick to ask, turning away and stepping back from Hermione. "What happened?"
Ron huffed. "Well, it's Smith," he began, already frowning. "I just overheard him saying that he ended up picking Colin, and he's talking about how he's just going to give him some of his spare pieces of parchment. Honestly, I've never met a more insufferable Badger. How is he not in Slytherin?"
Harry looked concerned. "Maybe we could pool together and get Colin something just in case Smith doesn't pull through with a suitable gift," he offered, and Hermione all but melted at the suggestion.
"I think that's a great idea, Harry," Hermione said, absently touching his forearm. "And plus, we know him well enough not to need his list."
Both boys nodded, before the three of them started to leave, seeing as they were the last students left. They didn't talk much on their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room because they were all lost in thought, trying to think up the best gifts for their Secret Santa gifts.
Hermione was still rather giddy that she'd managed to pick Harry. She was a little worried that some of the other girls would think that she did it on purpose. But why would she? It wasn't as if anyone knew the true extent of her crush on the famous wizard. Really, even she didn't know the depth of her own feelings. Right now, she was just his best friend; that was all. All she could do now was thank her lucky stars that it was his name she picked.
She wasn't even worried about who picked her. It actually could have been Zacharias Smith for all she cared. Though, it just never occurred to her that the very person agonising over what to get for her was none other than Harry Potter himself.
Harry knew Hermione well enough not to need the list she'd written, but it was still interesting to see what she'd added to the books and knitted items she'd mentioned earlier. It turned out that she liked ornaments, random trinkets and writing. He assumed that meant that she liked stationery and, maybe, notebooks? Hermione did have a lot of notebooks. What did she do with all of them? Would she mind another one?
Despite her eagerness to start planning Harry's gift, Hermione made them work on their homework. Ron made light-hearted jokes about her nagging, which she didn't seem to mind. He wasn't as irritated as the night before, so the three of them were able to get on in relative peace.
In fact, Hermione was surprised when the person to disrupt their calm was Harry Potter. He grew bored of reading up on the next Potion they would be brewing and took to annoying the hell out of Hermione to get her to reveal who her Secret Santa was. The thing was, though, that Harry Potter's idea of annoying wasn't annoying at all. At least not to Hermione, who felt like she'd won the lottery whenever she was his sole focus.
He tried stealing her quill a couple of times, and shifted her parchment while she was writing, which, okay, did annoy her; but he looked so cute and innocent, and how was she supposed to stay mad at that face?
Wow, she had it bad.
Somehow, Hermione was able to keep him at bay, and convince him to return to his reading. It took great effort, of course, but he eventually did it, and they returned to working. Ron just found it all so amusing, especially since Hermione probably would have flayed him for even taking too long of a breath when he should have been working. These double standards.
Harry, however, didn't let up on trying to figure out who she'd picked. He spent the next few days constantly asking her, whether verbally or in written form. Whenever she asked him who hepicked, he would clam up, which definitely interested her.
Hermione's gift idea for him came to her when she was researching catching - and so preserving - snowflakes for Harry. She was definitely curious to find out why he'd asked her about it, but she wasn't sure how to bring the topic up again. He'd shut it down so quickly that she wasn't sure if it was a good or bad memory.
"It's a good one," he told her, when she finally plucked up the courage to ask him about it. She'd found him on his large rock by the Black Lake again, braving the cold in his own stubborn way.
Hermione was more graceful jumping up onto the rock this time around, so there was no need for her to grab his arm, but he still offered it to her knowingly. She didn't even hesitate before she was hugging it to her chest, soaking up the warmth of him.
"At least, I think it's a good one," he added thoughtfully. "I think you'll have to be the judge." He took a long, shuddering breath as his eyes focused on the frozen lake in front of them. "It was my first year in school," he began. "Dudley and his friends, they'd made my year horrible, targeting me during our breaks and making sure that none of the other kids became my friends." He smiled ruefully. "But in late December, just before school closed for the holidays, it started to snow, and our teachers let us out early, to go and play in it, I guess.
"It was the first break that I wasn't scared of being hunted by my cousin and his gang," he said quietly. "I remember standing there, arms spread and mouth wide open, thinking that, if I could just capture this moment, every other day would somehow be worth it. I guess that turned into catching snowflakes. Catching memories." He looked at her, surprised to see the tears in her eyes. "So I think it's a good one," he said softly.
Hermione leaned into him, breaking their eye contact. "It's a good one, Harry," she whispered, and the two of them settled into comfortable silence. It stretched on for quite some time, before Harry heard her teeth chatter. It was his cue to suggest they go inside.
And, as they were headed into the relative warmth of the Castle, Harry couldn't resist the urge to ask her, once again, who she'd picked for her Secret Santa.
Hermione was just curious as to why he was so desperate to know. So she asked him, the next day, as they were making their way to Hogsmeade in a carriage with Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny. It wasn't exactly a tight squeeze but it was more crowded than the Trio was used to.
"I just want to know," Harry replied evasively.
Hermione eyed him carefully but made no comment. There was definitely more to it, but she wasn't going to ask any more questions while they were in the presence of other people.
"So what shops do we all need to go to?" Hermione asked the group, taking control the only way the future Head Girl could.
From the spatter of responses, they decided to split up into three pairs for the first few hours to pick up their necessary gifts, and then meet at the Three Broomsticks for some lunch. Harry ended up setting off with Neville, Hermione with Ginny, and Ron with Luna, which had the redhead looking a little bewildered. How had that happened?
Hermione and Harry exchanged an amused look before they went in opposite directions. As much as Hermione wanted to be paired with him, she couldn't exactly buy the things she needed for his gift while in his presence. He would be sure to know, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction of having his relentless question answered before time.
Harry was suffering the same dilemma, though he wasn't quite sure why. He and Neville headed straight for Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Neville whispered to Harry that he wanted to get an engraved set of quills for his Secret Santa, which Harry thought was a great idea. The praise seemed to bolster the Gryffindor, and he disappeared into the shop purposefully, while Harry looked around, absently meandering through the aisles. He had an idea, but he wasn't sure if his idea actually existed.
Well, he was a wizard. If it didn't exist; he would make it exist.
Harry found the perfect set of leather-bound notebooks. Well, they were slightly smaller than Hermione's normal notebooks. They were rather journals, but that didn't seem like a concern. Harry plucked them off the shelf and made his way to the front counter. He had to explain his idea to the young man behind the desk two times, before he finally clicked.
"You want them embroided, or is it engraved?"
Harry nodded anyway. "Is that possible?"
"Magically, anything is possible," he said cryptically, which wasn't exactly an answer but Harry decided to roll with it.
"Well, do you do it here?" Harry asked; "or do I have to go to another shop for that?"
"We can send it out for you," the man replied. "There isn't a shop in Hogsmeade that does it, but it will take two to three days though."
That was cutting it close, and Harry couldn't keep the grimace off his face.
"Of course, though, with a little extra incentive, I can get it back for you by Monday," he said coyly, and Harry had to roll his eyes. "We'll deliver it by Owl, of course."
Harry waited a beat, accepting the exploitation. "Fine. By Monday."
"Maybe Tuesday morning," the man said, dropping his gaze. "It has to come here first, before I can send it to you."
Harry growled quietly. "It better be perfect then," he said sharply. "You wouldn't want Harry Potter to be unhappy, now would you?"
The young man blinked in surprise and, frankly, Harry was surprised as well. Was that some kind of threat? Did he just use his fame like that? Merlin, what was this gift doing to him? Better yet, what was this gift for Hermione doing to him?
"It will be perfect," the man said, nodding his head. "You have my word."
Harry sighed. "Okay then," he relented. "This is what I want on the books..." By the time Harry was done handing over the various drawings he'd done, Neville was back at his side, grinning widely. Harry resisted the urge to ask him all sorts of questions, as he paid for his own items.
Neville's eyes bulged slightly at how much Harry was spending.
"They're special order," Harry told him. "Merlin, please don't tell Hermione; she'll kill me with guilt over this not being in the spirit of the game."
Neville chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me, Harry."
And Harry believed him. Really, truly, Neville Longbottom was a boy who you trusted. Once the order was sent through and everything was paid for, the two boys left the shop. Barely an hour had gone by, so there was no point in heading to the Three Broomsticks already.
"Honeyduke's," Neville declared, laughing at his own antics.
"Lead the way," Harry said, laughing as well. "Oh, I can pick up some sugar quills. I love those things."
"I think the entire world knows that," Neville commented as the two of them trudged through the sticky snow. It wasn't exactly melting but it was rather sludgy and they had to be careful where they stepped in case they went sliding across the cobbled ground. "The Quibbler has a weekly column about your likes and dislikes."
Harry blinked. "It does?"
Neville nodded. "Oh yeah," he said. "They've always supported you, Harry. Luna says that her father truly believes you and he wants to do all he can to get others to believe as well. And plus, is it so horrible that his little column shows that you truly aren't going Dark? I mean, what Dark wizard doesn't like Chocolate Frogs?"
Harry laughed out loud, almost slipping on the ground. "It's just the concept that gets me," Harry tried to explain, using a hand on Neville's shoulder to steady himself. "They're frogs, Neville, urgh." He shuddered at the thought. "I mean, I sort of like chocolate, but leaping frogs, no thank you."
"If I recall correctly, Hermione bought you an entire box of them for Christmas in our first year," he said, raising an eyebrow. "And I'm pretty sure that the entire box ended up empty."
Harry couldn't hide his blush. "In her defence, she didn't really know back then," he said. "And I'm sure that the lot of you ate most of them."
"But you did brave a few, just for her, didn't you?"
"I didn't want to be rude," he said, somewhat defensively. "And now she knows I don't like them, which is something she loves to tease me about."
Neville just smiled, his head shaking slightly, as they reached Honeyduke's. Harry opened the door and Neville went in first. It wasn't as full as Harry thought it might be, but they did run into Ron and Luna. The redhead still looked beyond bewildered, but the sides of his mouth were turned slightly upwards from his own amusement at whatever Luna was going on about. He didn't even beg his fellow Gryffindors to save him.
Neville and Harry looked through the shelves for a while, picking out various sweets and candies. Harry figured that, with this Secret Santa thing in play; he could afford to give his other friends things from Honeyduke's. Everybody liked a good sweet or two.
On their way to pay, Harry stalled and lifted a box of chocolate frogs.
Neville raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"For Hermione," Harry said simply.
Neville chuckled. "You do know that Hermione doesn't like chocolate frogs either, right?"
Harry did know, and Neville knew that Harry knew. "So, really, I'm buying this box for the lot of you, aren't I?" he joked.
Neville shrugged, still smiling. "You don't hear me complaining. I love those dainty amphibians."
The more time that Harry spent with Neville; the more he started to wonder why they hadn't hung out more before today. Neville was great company, and really funny too. Harry made a mental note to spend more time with the blond Gryffindor.
Once they were done in Honeyduke's, the two of them did some further wandering. They stopped by a book shop and just browsed. Harry was tempted to buy Hermione something more but decided against it. She would disapprove of her set of journals anyway. He didn't want to risk more of her wrath.
They past by a Quidditch shop, which Harry resisted entering. Neville didn't seem that interested. Which was how they ended up in a jewellery shop. Neville spotted something in the window that he might have liked to get for his grandmother, and Harry followed him inside. The shop was empty but for the two of them, and two older women behind the counters. One of the women was quick to start helping Neville, while the other hovered as Harry looked around.
Harry glanced over the rings, lingered on the bracelets and then stopped on the necklaces. There were so many different types of charms, both pretty and meaningful. Then there were the not so formal ones, like little books, broomsticks and cauldrons. It all made him smile.
"See anything you like?" the woman behind the counter asked, her voice raspy.
Harry felt slightly uneasy, but he tried to keep it off his face. "I'm just looking," he said simply.
"We received some new watches," she informed him. "They're very lovely. Would you like to take a look?"
Harry was tempted to say no, but something stopped him. The word just wouldn't leave his mouth, so he finally nodded.
The woman smiled, revealing yellow-stained teeth. She was a little scary-looking, but Harry's unease was slowly fading. Something told him that he didn't have anything to be worried about with this woman. "They're over here," she said, gesturing for him to move to his right. "We've got various metals, and various faces. Are you looking for yourself, or for a friend?"
Harry blinked. He didn't wear a watch, and he wasn't sure he wanted to start. "Umm, do you have matching his and her sets?" he found himself asking.
She smiled widely at him. "Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaimed, as she bent down to retrieve several boxes. "Of course, you can specify next to every detail of the watch itself," she explained. "You can pick aspects of the watches you see before you and we can have them custom made."
Harry just nodded, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. What was he doing? Was he really going to buy a set of watches? Matchingwatches?
Yes, yes he was.
Harry was done with his purchase well before Neville was. The woman promised him that the watches would be delivered on Wednesday morning, specially wrapped and sealed, only to be opened on Christmas Day. It was a gift that Harry would hand over in private, in case... Well, he wasn't sure what would happen.
"Ready to go?" Neville asked him, getting his attention.
Harry nodded. "I'm thinking that I could do with a nice, warm butterbeer right now," he said, leading the way out of the shop. "Though, I would like to make one more stop before we head to the Three Broomsticks, if that's all right?"
Neville just nodded, following behind Harry. They stopped at a clothing store, and Harry bought various pairs of quirky socks, several scarves and beanie sets, and a few pairs of gloves. Neville made no comment as Harry paid, but he did find it amusing that most of the items he bought were for girls.
Neville and Harry were the last pair to arrive at the Three Broomsticks, which was already full of students. They found their friends in a booth in the back, six butterbeers in front of them. Harry slipped in next to Hermione, who beamed at him.
"I hope you don't mind, but we ordered for you," she said, blushing slightly. "We weren't sure how long we'd have to wait."
"Thank you," he said, meeting her gaze. "I was wishing for one of these."
Neville nodded, letting everyone know that Harry really was.
"So, what did the two of you get up to?" Ginny asked from her position beside Neville. "Looks like you did quite a bit of shopping."
Neville smiled at her. "Now, you know we can't tell you," he said. "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."
Ginny pouted for a moment, before she relented and started on her drink again. The six of them fell into easy conversation, happily discussing their plans for the upcoming Christmas Break. Harry was going to Grimmauld Place, Hermione was going home to Oxfordshire, Luna was going on an expedition northwards with her father, Neville was going home to Longbottom Manor, and Ron and Ginny were going home to the Burrow.
Harry would end up seeing them, he was sure, when the Weasleys visited Grimmauld, but nobody made any promises. The good thing, Hermione supposed, was that Harry wouldn't be alone in the Castle. She'd worried about that when the Weasleys announced that they would be going home for Christmas this year, citing something about not spending enough time as a family, especially with Voldemort around.
It was also one of the reasons why Hermione insisted on going home as well. That, and she missed her parents quite terribly. As an only child, she was convinced that she'd adjusted to boarding life quite well, but that didn't stop her from missing being at home every day with the Drs Granger.
Conversation went on rather nicely until Harry gasped.
"What? What?"
Harry was looking at Hermione. "What on earth happened to you?" he asked, his eyes drifting down her back to her legs.
"Oh," she sounded, flushing red instantly.
Ginny laughed. "It you're referring to the wet, and the dirt; you should know that she fell."
"I slipped on a particularly slippery rock," Hermione defended herself, even as Harry's face broke out into a smile.
"Three times," Ginny added, and Hermione shot her a heated look. Ginny ignored it. "It was hilarious."
"She laughed for a good thirty seconds before she even thought to help me up," Hermione muttered, huffing. "She laughed even longer the second time. I had to get up myself the third time. My gloves are soaked right through."
Harry waited a beat. "Well, I have a solution for that," he said, reaching into the packet under the table and bringing out a lovely pair of red gloves. "These are for you," he said, absently reaching for her hands.
Hermione's brain shut down long enough for him to take hold of her hands. "Oh, no, Harry, I couldn't," she protested weakly, coming back online.
"It's okay," he said, gently. "I bought them for you."
"Oh."
Harry refrained from putting them on for her, because they wereinside, but it was mainly because his entire face was heating up. Everyone was looking at him, and his heart was starting to race. He eventually released her hands, leaving the gloves with her, and then turned to the group, who were just staring at him.
"I, umm, well, I bought gloves for you and Luna as well," Harry said, looking at Ginny. He reached into the packet again and retrieved a set of blue and a set of gold gloves, before handing them over. He'd also bought a pair for Cho, but he decided not to mention that.
"Thank you, Harry," Luna said, clutching the soft fabric of the blue gloves to her chest. "They're lovely."
"They really are," Ginny agreed. "Thank you, Harry."
Harry let out a shaky breath and glanced at Hermione, who looked pensive. It took her a moment to shake herself out of it, and then return to the conversation. Harry waited until the other four were involved in quite a debate to lean into Hermione, so he could whisper in her ear.
"Don't worry, pretty girl, I got only you a matching scarf and beanie as well."
Hermione yelped, the feel of his breath against her skin both shocking and so lovely. Harry jumped at the sound and pulled back, clearly worried.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron said; "what did you say?"
"Nothing," Harry protested innocently. "Honestly, I didn't say anything." He gave Hermione a significant look, which she did her best to ignore. Harry leaned back, wondering what it was about what he'd said that made her react the way she did. Didn't she want the matching scarf and beanie?
Harry returned to his butterbeer, and they all managed to get past the awkward moment. Harry didn't actually speak to Hermione directly again until they were leaving, and he asked if she needed help with her bags.
Hermione just shook her head, and Harry left it at that.
When they got back to the Castle, Harry went up to his room to put his things away. He was feeling odd, like he'd done something wrong, but he wasn't sure what. He didn't like the feeling at all.
Harry didn't go back down to the Common Room until it was time for dinner. He'd toyed with the idea of going out to his rock, but ultimately decided against it. It really was cold outside, and it really was no fun sitting out there without Hermione, now that he had.
The Common Room was empty save for one person. Hermione looked like she was waiting for him, and she seemed to perk up when she spotted him. She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand and he joined her on the couch across from the burning fireplace.
"They've all gone down to dinner," she said, watching as he looked around. "Apparently Hogsmeade visits make Gryffindors hungry."
"Why aren't you down in the Great Hall with them?" he asked.
"Well," she said smiling at him; "I was waiting for a certain matching scarf and beanie before I braved the cold."
"Oh," he said, grinning. "I'll be right back," he rushed, jumping to his feet and racing up the stairs. He ruffled through his things until he found what he was looking for, and then raced right back down the stairs. When he returned to her side on the couch, he absently sat a little closer to her.
Hermione noticed but she said nothing. What could she say, really? He didn't even realise what he was doing, which she agreed was worse than having him know, surely.
"These are for you," Harry said proudly. "Gryffindor red."
"Because I'm a Gryffindor?"
He blinked. "No, because I like the way that you look in red."
"Oh?"
Harry blushed bright red. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "Is that weird? Am I allowed to say that?"
She frowned slightly. "Why wouldn't you?"
"I don't know," he said quietly. "I mean, I said something earlier and, well, you, ummm, you yelped, Hermione."
Hermione offered him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "You just surprised me is all."
"But we're okay?"
"We're perfect, Harry," she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "And thank you for my gloves, hat and scarf. I absolutely love them."
At that, Harry stood up and put out his hands to help her up. Hermione ended up standing right in front of him, close enough for her to feel his breath on the bridge of her nose. He reached for her new scarf and wrapped it around her neck. He placed her beanie on her head and positioned it just right, taking care not to pull on her hair. He was so gentle; so careful, and Hermione realised only after he stepped back that she was holding her breath.
"Shall we go?" he asked, staring at her face. "Now that you're going to be nice and warm; we can go for a walk down to the Lake after dinner, if you'd like," he offered nervously.
"I would like that very much, Harry," she said calmly - nothing like she felt. His suggestion felt like more, but she wasn't sure how that could be.
Harry had the somewhat reckless urge to take hold of her hand, but he stopped himself. "Let's get going," he said, stepping back and turning to lead the way out of the Common Room. They walked side by side, their fingers occasionally brushing against one another, but neither of them were bothered by the contact.
In fact, by the time they reached the Great Hall; they were both blushing madly. Only Ginny seemed to notice, but she made no comment as Harry and Hermione sat down together. Closer than normal; not that either of them even realised.
Hermione removed her scarf to eat, and laid it over her lap. Harry smiled at her, and then proceeded to eat his dinner, trying not to panic about the walk that was going to come after. They normally did take walks, but this felt different. He wasn't sure why or how it could be, but it did.
"Do you think there will be dessert?" Ron asked after a while, making all his friends laugh. Trust the youngest male Weasley to be the first to ask about dessert.
Even though no words passed between them, both Harry and Hermione knew that they wouldn't be staying for dessert. It would be too late and too cold for their walk if they were to stay. So, by mutual decision, they both stood up and gathered their winter garments.
"Where are you two off to?" Ginny asked.
"Just a walk," Harry answered.
"DA things?" Ginny asked, pressing for information.
"Sure," Harry said absently, stepping back. He placed a hand on the small of Hermione's back and led the way out of the Great Hall. Just before they left the Castle, Harry made sure that she was bundled up warmly. He wrapped her scarf nice and tight, even covering her mouth and nose to protect them from the bitter cold.
"Can you hear me?" she asked.
"Loud and clear," he said, tightening his own scarf. "Can you hear me?"
Even though he couldn't see her mouth smile; he could tell that she was smiling widely through her eyes. He'd never really noticed just how expressive her eyes were. They revealed so much sometimes.
"I feel like we're going on some super secret mission," she said, jumping slightly.
"Easy there, Batman," he teased, starting to walk. "Do try not to slip, if you can."
Just as he finished speaking, Hermione did slip on the icy top step and her sudden grip on Harry's arm was all that saved her from landing hard on her bottom. She tried to glare at him when he laughed, but she more or less started to laugh as well. His real laugh was rather contagious.
Over the years, Hermione learned to tell the difference between his true laugh and his forced one. She didn't blame him for having a fake laugh, mainly because of the outward expectations that the Wizarding World had for him. There were things that she knew he was working through, and still had to work through, which would probably make it difficult for him to feel happiness.
And then there was this laugh. It was honest, true, real and so very beautifully Harry.
The two of them walked arm-in-arm towards the Black Lake, neither of them feeling the need to talk. If anything, Hermione was actually rather surprised by how cold it actually was. She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. She gave herself fifteen minutes at the most; probably more if they kept moving.
"Do you know that I hate the cold?" she asked, breaking their silence as they approached the Lake. "The cold, and the wet," she said, shivering. "Hate them."
"Why?"
"Well, for starters, it's cold," she said, laughing; "and, well, I do end up on the ground more often than not, which isn't fun. I mean, it's really difficult not to feel miserable when it's pouring out, isn't it?"
Harry glanced at her. "So you prefer the summer then?"
"I'm actually a fan of Autumn," she informed him. "I love the colours, and, I don't know, but the thought of falling leaves just fills me with warmth."
It amazed him, really, that he was still learning new things about her. He hoped it would never stop, because, well, he was convinced there were many layers to this wonderful girl. He'd even called her amazing, because he was coming to realise that she truly was.
Harry didn't keep them outside for very long. Despite the cold, it was nice to spend some time with Hermione, alone and without eyes constantly watching him. This year was one he would like to forget, but his days weren't all that terrible recently. He wasn't yet ready to acknowledge that it had a lot to do with Hermione Granger.
By the time they made it back to the Common Room; Hermione felt as if they hadn't even left the Castle. It wasn't yet curfew, but the Common Room was emptier than what was normal for a Saturday night.
"Didn't Fred and George mention something about a demonstration in the Great Hall?" Hermione asked, absently recalling one of the twins - she still wasn't sure which one - saying that they had a new product and were going to set it off tonight.
"They're just trying to get themselves expelled," Harry said quietly, as they stepped towards the staircases leading up to their separate dormitories. "And, with Umbitch prowling; it'll probably happen."
Instead of reprimanding his use of language, Hermione giggled. "I'm sure they're being careful," she said, which had Harry giving her a pointed look. "Right. Of course. Never mind."
Harry loosened his scarf and let it hang down around his neck. Without asking for permission, he did the same for Hermione. Her face was bright pink, though neither of them was sure it was from the cold.
Hermione was the first to yawn, and Harry quickly followed suit, making them both smile. "It's been quite the day, hasn't it?" she asked.
"All that shopping has tired you out, huh?"
"You could say that."
"So then it's time for bed for my pretty girl," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.
Hermione might have died and gone to heaven. Did he just call her his pretty girl? Oh. My. God.
Harry tugged on her beanie until it covered her eyes, and he just stared at what was left of her face for the longest time, his mind racing. Before he lost his nerve, he placed a gentle kiss against the soft skin of her left cheek, absently breathing her in. "Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered.
Hermione was too shocked to speak and, by the time she recovered enough to lift her beanie; Harry was gone. Her face broke out into a smile of, maybe, disbelief, and pure happiness. That boy.
All she knew was that she was definitely going to have another night of vivid dreams filled with a certain green-eyed wizard, and she didn't mind that at all.