Chapter Text
Christmas always seemed more magical than any other time of the year in Hermione’s home. She and her mum had many traditions that were just between them. As Hermione curled up in the oversized armchair she claimed as hers, she drifted off to sleep watching the lights on the Christmas tree dance and twinkle. One day she would find out how her mum did it all. The steady thump of the antique nutcrackers on the mantel as they marched from one end to the other through the falling snow, snow that never melted or made a soggy mess on the floor, lulled the sleepy girl to sleep. Christmas really was magical.
Whispered voices slowly pulled Hermione from her dreams of Santa and gifts under the tree.
“We will be together again soon, my love. I want you both with me, where you both should be. Not stuck here having to pretend to be something you’re not. You both deserve the very best in life, and I will do everything in my power to give it to you both,” the man said-a man that looked very much like Santa.
To her groggy mind, Hermione knew she must still be dreaming. But it all seemed so very real. Her mom was standing by the fireplace talking to a man with white hair, dressed in a stunning red velvet suit. She couldn’t see his face without tipping them off that she was awake. She knew that Santa would never come back if he knew she saw him.
“I know you are working hard to get everything settled for us. I love you, Santa,” her mom giggled-stretching up to give the man in the red suit a passionate kiss.
“I better go before we wake her up. I love you, Jean Granger,” Santa whispered.
Her mom and Santa tiptoed around the armchair, heading to the back door, still whispering about being together. Hermione drifted back to dreamland once she could no longer hear their voices.
Knowing Hermione was asleep and wouldn’t hear them, Jean and Santa said their last goodbye’s for what would be much longer than either of them anticipated.
“Jean, I’ll be back soon. Please don’t cry. You must stay strong for Hermione. Her magic should manifest soon and you will need to help her learn to control it until we are back in the wizarding world,” he said, trying to reassure her.
“I know Corban. I’ll prepare her and be ready when you come back. I miss you,” she said as a tear slipped from her eye. “Happy Christmas, my love.”
“Happy Christmas,” Corban sighed as he pulled Jean in for one last hug. “I’ll see you soon. Send your p atronus if you need anything, anything at all.”
Hermione woke up early on Christmas morning to find her mum waiting for her.
“Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
“Happy Christmas, Mum,” Hermione squealed.
Maybe Santa was just a dream. Her mum was happy, she was excited, and all was right in her world.