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He stood there, hunched near the Christmas tree. In all black. Waiting for her. Beautiful, mysterious, so hidden inside. She was the only one allowed to discover the centre. With every step she wanted him even more. Quickly, she ran down the dormitory steps and stood in front of him. He was mumbling something indecipherably, almost too quiet to hear. Impatience was eating her alive. She wanted to know him, see him, unravel him; but she needed hands for that, otherwise he would never open up before her, she was certain. He was destined to her, her one and only. He belonged to her. He slid a little closer. She twitched, startled. She couldn’t hold back any longer. She touched all the black enveloping him delicately. He didn’t move away; a good sign. Excitement was burning her up. No more tenderness, now there was only place for growing desire. She started ripping away all this black paper, separating her from his hidden contents. Yes, Hermione Granger loved getting magical presents.