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Happy Christmas, my love. If you're reading this it means you've awoken. You've probably realized I am not there. If you want to find me, and your Christmas present, you're going to have to follow a set of clues. The rules are as follows:
Be sure to listen because this is important
Every door needs a key
Keep this in mind when you find your next clue
Be quick my miss, your timing is slim
Every door closes and the key will be for nought
Reply with your answer, for you have a choice
Say no and I will come home
Though I must admit, it's worth the effort if you say yes
If I need to say the obvious, it would be a first
The clock does not start without your permission.
Oh yes my dear, just one more thing.
Your first clue is one word away.
She reads the letter five times, just to be sure she understands everything. The letter is waiting for her when she wakes up, and though she's a bit annoyed when she wakes to an empty bed, there's a ball of excitement growing in her stomach.
Of course Draco knows she loves this kind of stuff. They've been dating for three years now, she'd be a bit disappointed if he didn't know his own girlfriend. She bites her lip in excitement, throws the covers away from her and scrambles for some clothes. She should dress presentably, at least. Right? She slides on a pair of black jeans, an emerald sweater Draco had gotten her their first Christmas together, a pair of nude flats and twists her hair into a bun. That would be sufficient, should she arrive at a formal location.
Hermione quickly brushes her teeth and checks herself once over in the mirror before she snatches the parchment up again and says, "Yes."
The letter glows blue and the familiar sensation in her navel sets in as she disappears into thin air.
When she regains ground, she finds herself in a forest. There's a voice shouting her name somewhere to her left that makes her jump. The person, whoever it was, was moving towards her. As the figure grows closer, Hermione realizes it's Neville and a pleased grin settles across her features.
He's barefoot, and there's dirt all over his rolled up pants and bare arms. He's grinning at her, holding out a hand for her to grab. There's dirt on his cheeks and nose too. She giggles and greets him with a quick hug.
"So, how are you?" she asks, eager to catch up.
Neville shakes her head and offers an apologetic smile.
"Sorry Hermione, we really don't have much time. Come on, follow me."
Neville leads her to a tiny cottage, the small front porch bespotted with strange plants and colorful, large flowers. The inside is a bit cramped, but homey all the same. Luna appears from what Hermione suspects is the kitchen.
"Oh, hello Hermione."
"Hi, Luna." Hermione says with a grin.
Neville and Luna lead her down the hall to a small room off to the right. It could be a study if it weren't for the dozens of dusty, odd decorations and unlabeled boxes. The desk is covered in old trinkets and broken pots. There's overused paint brushes and half-painted canvases everywhere.
On a table to the right, however, sits a pensieve. Hermione stands directly in front of it as Neville pours in the vial and takes her hand. Luna grabs her left and squeezes it lightly.
Hermione doesn't have time to ask what's going on before all three of them are leaning over the pensieve before they are falling into the depths of their treasured memories. They watch as Hermione sticks up for the pair beside her throughout the years. All of the picnics by the Black Lake they shared. There were a few more painful memories thrown in; like when Hermione learned the truth behind Neville's parents and when they were all in the Ministry, bruised and broken by the Death Eaters. And of course, there were flashes of their time spent in the Room of Requirement during their Dumbledore's Army days. She watches eleven, twelve, fifteen year old Hermione help Neville in Potions.
When they returned to the half-study half-storage room, Neville's eyes were watery and red and Luna looked solemn.
"You're one of the best people I know Hermione." Neville mumbles.
Luna hugs her tightly and kisses her forehead. She hands Hermione a beautifully hand-crafted white rose flower crown
"This is charmed to last for months. But keep it safe all the same." is all Luna says before it glows blue and she is gone.
The world comes into view as she falls into tall grass. The sun is high in the sky but the winds are gusty and sweep her bushy hair into her face. She stands up, the flower crown still balanced delicately between her fingers. She squints at the lopsided building not far in the distance. Her heart leaps as she realizes it's the burrow. Excited to see who will be greeting her, she races towards the house.
As she grows closer, she can clearly see Ron standing outside his front door, waving at her. She is a bit shocked to see Ron (he hadn't been happy about her relationship with Draco for a long time) but happy all the same. It's been a while since she's seen him too, giving how often he travels to Romania.
His smile is wide and crooked when she hugs him tightly. He squeezes her then pulls away to take a good look at her.
"I'd ask how you are, but we don't have much time. Come on." Ron says, leading her towards the broomshed.
Hermione asks no questions as she follows him. She's going to have to explain to Draco what a scavenger hunt is supposed to be like, but it's sweet all the same and she's glad she at least gets to see some of her friends. Not to mention she thinks it adorable how much effort Draco clearly put in to all of this.
When they get to the broomshed and step inside, Hermione squeals at the sight of Ginny.
"Ginny, you're-"
"Pregnant, yeah. Five months in." Ginny says with a wide grin.
But Hermione hardly has time to hug her best friend before Ron is grabbing her hand and telling her to lean over the pensieve. She's expecting her feet to leave the floor this time and welcomes the floating sensation as they travel down, down, down to whichever memory it is that she'll see first.
When her feet touch ground again she realizes they're standing in the corridor of Hogwarts, students screaming and running in terror around them. Ron is smiling at her, still gripping her hand. Hermione is staring at him in horror. There's a crack of lightning and a rumble of thunder.
"It's Halloween, first year." Ron tells her, leading her down an empty corridor.
Ahead, Hermione can see two small figures running furiously down the corridor. Ron tugs at her arm and starts running. Hermione follow suit, wondering what on Earth Ron was trying to show her. As they grow closer, she can make out a speck of bright red hair. Harry's young, squeaky voice echoes off the stone walls.
Halloween...first year...suddenly it all clicks. This was the moment Harry and Ron had realized she was in the bathroom. This was the beginning of her friendship with Ron and Harry. A smile flickers across her face.
She watches from a nook as eleven year old Ron and Harry race into the bathroom. They follow soon after and watch as Harry and Ron attempt to distract the troll. Hermione doubles over with laughter. Ron had chucked a pipe at its head. At the time it was terrifying, but watching it now, it was slightly hilarious. Ron grins at her sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.
"Probably wasn't the best move." he mumbles.
Hermione just grins at him. Anything was better than nothing that night. They watch as Harry and Ron finally take down the troll and McGonagall and the other Professors arrive on scene. McGonagall begins to scold them when the memory fades away at their feet and the next begins to form.
It's her first stay at the Burrow. She's playing exploding snap with Harry and Ron. All of them are laughing hysterically, a tray of half eaten sandwiches beside them.
They're in the Gryffindor common room. She's looking over Ron's essay as he smiles at her appreciatively and offers her a chocolate frog as a way of thanks.
The memory fades once more and after a moment she and Ron find themselves near the Whomping Willow. It's just Ron and her sitting by the tree. Fourteen year old Hermione was looking after Ron while Harry talked Privately with Sirius after the big confrontation in the Shrieking Shack.
Dozens more memories faded in and out before them. Ron comforting Hermione during the War. Ron making her tea and bringing her food on days when she couldn't muster the energy or was too focused on studying. Late nights spent playing wizard's chess (even though she was rubbish) and exploding snap and sitting out in the field next to the burrow during the summers.
Hermione and Ron start floating upwards and seconds later Hermione is standing in the broomshed again. When she looks up, she jumps. The entire Weasley family is standing in and just outside of the broomshed. Molly's eyes are a bit watery as she steps forward, holding a square shaped package.
Hermione takes the package from Molly and rips it open. It's some sort of book, but the brown leather cover is blank. She opens it to the first page and gasps. Her lips are quivering when she looks up at Molly. tears now trickling down her cheeks.
"You made this?" she croaks.
Molly nods. Arthur tightens his hold around his wife's waist and smiles at Hermione.
She looks back down at the photo album to observe the pictures within. They're all magical pictures and she loves it. Page after page of the album are filled with pictures of her time spent with the Weasleys and Harry over the years.
"There's something extra special about this photo album by the way." It's Percy that pipes up.
Hermione looks surprised and curious. They're all grinning, smug as can be. It's George that provides an explanation.
"They're linked to the portraits in our house. So if you ever need the real versions of us, all you have to do is open that beauty up."
Hermione refrains from rolling her eyes. The Weasleys are still wary of Draco and his parents but with time maybe they'll see them differently. She hugs them collectively and as soon as they let go the photo album is glowing blue and she's being rooted from the ground.
The floor is hard and cold beneath her. She lands flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the Hogwarts Library. She would know it anywhere.
"Ah, there you are." says a familiar voice.
Hermione stands up and dusts off her pants, only to be face to face with Harry. She squeals and throws her arms around her best friend, hugging him tightly. It's been a few months since she's seen him, as they're all so busy lately. He laughs and tells her he's missed her.
"Oh I've missed you too—but Harry, why are we at the Hogwarts Library?" she asks, looking around.
It's empty. And though it is the Christmas Holidays, she finds it odd that there isn't a single soul in the library, not even Madam Pince.
Harry extends a hand to her, she takes it—the photo album and flower crown clutched in her free hand—and together they wind through stacks and between tables and chairs.
"We don't have much time, come on."
"Harry, where are we going?" she asks as he drags her through stacks of books.
They pass the corner she had deemed hers during her years at Hogwarts; beautifully illuminated by the sun and most importantly private. No one had ever bothered her.
Finally, they stop. The first thing that catches her eye is the pensieve sitting on the table. Wait, hold on. Their table. The table she, Harry and Ron always occupied when they actually came to the library with her. Grant it, most of the time the two boys were playing tic-tac-toe on a piece of parchment or quietly joking around while she revised their homework and studied, but they had a good time all the same.
Harry empties the contents into the pensieve and grabs Hermione's hand.
"Are you ready?" he asks with a knowing smile.
She nods. They dip their heads in, and all she sees is silver clouds. Until their feet leave the floor and they're falling...falling...falling...
"You're a great wizard, Harry." said an eleven year old Hermione to an eleven year old Harry.
Hermione gasps. Harry is smiling at her. The scenery changed. They were in the Gryffindor common room. It was just Harry and her. They looked no older than twelve and she took notice to the large announcement listing curfews and other restricting rules. This must be their second year.
"I'm sure you're not the heir to the Chamber of Secrets." said twelve year old Hermione.
"You don't know that for sure, Hermione. For all we know, I could be."
Twelve year Hermione shot him a grim smile and gripped his hand tightly. She took his homework into her custody and told him she would review it.
The scenery changes again and this time it is third year and they're in the library. It's the three of them this time and they're laughing so hard they're crying.
It's fourth year and Hermione and Harry are sitting at their usual table in the library, bent over books and scribbling important notes on parchment.
And then the images begin changing quickly. They're mere quick glimpses of moments with Harry.
Hermione hugging Harry tightly as he cried...Hermione showing Harry her research on the horcruxes...Hermione and Harry laughing—looking so carefree and innocent. Harry and Hermione enjoying butterbeers in The Three Broomsticks. Throwing snowballs at one another. Hermione crying on Harry's shoulder during sixth year. Harry and Hermione walking around the Black Lake and just talking. Hermione hugging him tightly before he walked to his assumed death during the Battle of Hogwarts.
And then suddenly, she's being lifted back up. The images disappear and the silver clouds reappear. Her feet land on the stone floor with a soft thud. Harry lets go of her hand and is reaching underneath the table. Hermione wipes the tears that are slipping down her cheeks.
Harry clears his throat, facing her and holding a rectangular brown package.
"Hermione, you have been one of the best friend's I've ever had. You've been there for me since day one. You are absolutely brilliant, in every aspect. And just—there are no words to describe how thankful I am that our paths crossed eleven years ago."
She's crying openly now. She lets out a shaky laugh as Harry hands her the package. Quickly, she tears the wrapping off. Her jaw drops and she gasps, her heart catches in her throat.
"Harry, this is--"
"The very first Hogwarts, A History. Yeah." he says with a lopsided smile.
"Oh, Harry..." she whispers, examining the cover. "How did you get this?"
"Sorry, Hermione. But it's time." he nods down at the book, which is now glowing a bright blue.
Hermione looks at Harry once more as he wishes her a Merry Christmas and then she is gone.
When she reappears, she immediately recognizes the fading floral wall-paper and tan carpeting. She's home. Her first home. Her heart leaps when she sees her parents standing in their living room with her. They're holding out their arms as she rushes towards them before hugging them tight.
"We've missed you, dear." her father whispers.
"I've missed you both too." she replies, her voice muffled in the fabric of their shirts.
"Come. We haven't much time." her mother says.
Hermione expects to be sat down with a photo album. So she's temporarily shocked when her parents lead her to their dining room, where another pensieve sits on their table.
"Is this safe?" she asks, feeling slightly worried.
"It's completely safe." her father reassures.
She takes his hand and stands in front of the pensieve with her parents by her side. Her mum tips the vial over, the silver string swirling in the white fog. She grips her parents hands tightly as they lean over. Their feet leave the floor. They're falling through the depths before landing softly.
They're in a doctor's office and her parents are waiting anxiously in a set of chairs. Her mum is giggling excitedly as her father tries to stop smiling. A doctor enters and sits down behind the desk.
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'm pleased to inform you that you are expecting."
Her parents squeal and shout in delight. They turn and hug one another tightly. Her father cradles her mum's head in his hand and kisses her cheeks.
The memory fades, but when the next one takes form, Hermione realizes they're still in the same doctor's office. Her parents enter, and Hermione's eyes widen at her seemingly very pregnant mum.
"I was only about six months in." her real mum chimes in.
Her memory parents sit and whisper back and forth. It's not long before the doctor enters and he sits behind his desk once more. He tells them they're having a girl. Her dad is practically crying while her mum nearly jumps up and down in delight.
Hermione is already trying not to cry.
She watches as she is born and her parents both cry as they hold her tight and welcome her to the world. She watches herself take her first steps and ride a bike and be tucked into bed by her parents. It's her first day of school and her parents are crying and kissing her repeatedly. Her dad is reading to her by the fire on Christmas Eve while she snuggles against his chest. Her mum is cleaning up a scrape on her knee after she fell in the yard.
She relives the memory of her first magical outburst. The breakfast tray had splattered to the floor, spilling jam and orange juice all over the white tiled floor. She's eleven and Dumbledore is explaining everything to them. She's a witch...there's a school that could teach her magic.
She watches the last remaining years of her childhood take form before her. Holidays spent in resorts, quiet mornings on the weekends during the summer, singing Christmas Carols off-key and high pitched.
And before she fully realizes it, they're once more standing in their dining room. All three of them are openly crying. She's hugging her parents so hard she's not sure if they can breathe. She inhales deeply, trying to stop the tears. Her legs are shaking so badly, she doesn't want to let go just yet.
But her mum and dad pull away. Her mum wipes her eyes and moves out of her vision. Her dad grips her arms to steady her and looks her dead in the eyes. His lip trembles and she takes a moment to really study his face. There's more wrinkles now than there were ten years ago. His eyes are still a piercing dark blue and grey mix. He smiles at her, that same gentle, loving smile she had received all her life.
"Hermione, you are the greatest gift we could have ever received. You're always full of surprises and you excel at everything you do. There are...no words to describe our love for you."
Hermione chokes on yet another sob before wrapping her arms around her father's neck. He squeezes her tight and rubs her back to soothe her. She hears her mum re-enter the room.
"A gift, for our greatest gift." her mum says softly.
Hermione lets go of her dad and accepts the small, carefully wrapped package. She tears it open to find a small, hand-carved wooden box. When she pries it open, she gasps at the silver locket inside. The heart has intricately carved vines with roses blooming from it.
She removes it from the box and opens the locket. Inside is a picture of the three of them. It's a bit old, about eleven or twelve years. She's on her father's shoulders with her mum hugging her dad's waist and smiling up at the two of them. On the other side of the locket are the words, Always with you.
"I love it." she says breathlessly.
Hermione secures it around her neck and hugs her parents once more. Her parents give each other a knowing look before excusing themselves. They tell her to head out to the backyard and wait in the gazebo. Confused, she obliges.
When she steps outside, she's happy to see that it's snowing now. The sky is covered with light gray clouds. The air is nearly frigid, but she doesn't mind. She's always loved her backyard. There's a stone pathway leading right to the gazebo. The path is lined with flowers which then wrap around the entire gazebo. At Christmas time, the gazebo is covered in white Christmas lights.
Hermione sits down and waits. She carefully examines the first copy of Hogwarts, A History—running her fingers along the pages and squinting at the text. The flower crown Luna and Neville gave her sits atop her head now. No more than five minutes must have passed before the sound of footsteps crunching against the snow could be heard.
Her eyes lit up when she saw a familiar head of white blonde hair walking towards her. She sets the book down and stands to greet him. His cheeks are pink from the cold and his eyes are bright.
"Hello, love." he murmurs before pulling her in for a kiss.
Their lips meet and she melts. As she does every time. He's warm and tastes of peppermint. His hands are sturdy against the small of her back. She's blissfully wrapped in safety and warmth.
Draco retreats and takes her hand in his. He stares down at their laced fingers, struggling to find his words. Hermione waits patiently. She's eager to see what gift Draco will give her. Especially if it's as touching and sentimental as the rest of hers had been.
"Come with me, love. There's a few things you need to see." his voice is soft, music to her ears.
They face the center of the gazebo and her brows furrow in confusion. There in the very middle is a pensieve.
Was that there when she first arrived? It couldn't have been.
Draco pours the vial in, grips her hand and she's falling for the fifth time that day.
They're standing in Diagon Alley. People are bustling about, chatting animatedly. She knows what day this is. It's the first time they saw one another since the war. He had looked so lost and scared that day—like he was pushed into a world he wasn’t ready to face. And he wasn't. He had told her that. She watches as she greets him with a handshake and a wary smile.
The memory versions of them melt away, hands still grasped together. They're in a café now, it's pouring outside and the tiny coffee shop is mostly empty. It's the first time they were meeting on purpose. She had invited him out for coffee, her treat. He told her later that morning it was the first time he was looking forward to something in a long time. That he wasn't worried about meeting up with her.
She watches as she makes him laugh and he stares at her with stars in his eyes. She hadn't realized this at the time. She had been completely oblivious to the way he looked at her for months.
The café disappears and then they're standing in a park on a sun-filled, warm day. She smiles to herself. Their first date. She would never forget. The memory versions of themselves enjoy their picnic Hermione had prepared that day. They both had their shoes and socks off and were lounging on the blanket. Draco's attention was solely on her as she talked about everything and nothing, distracting him from the storm in his head and the constant hate directed at him.
Now they were standing in their flat, watching as Draco cried onto Hermione's shoulder. He hadn't been able to hold it in anymore that night. It was probably the whiskey, but he wouldn't be so vulnerable in front of just anybody. Of course she didn't know this at the time.
Hermione watched as the memories of themselves fell in love, slowly, patiently, carefully. Her heart was so heavy with love and something she couldn't even begin to describe—it was all so blatantly clear to her now. How much she meant to the man standing in front of her. How much he loves her. Had loved her for quite some time now.
He ran a hand down her cheek, cocking his head slightly. She sucked in sharply, the cold air hitting the back of her throat.
"Hermione Granger, you are the light of my life. You were there for me when I was at my darkest. And...you saved me, really. You opened up a new world for me. You were the first person after the War who didn't spit in my direction or try to hex me. That day that you approached me in Diagon Alley...that was the first day of the rest of my life."
He pauses to wipe a tear that is now trickling down her ice cold cheek.
"Hermione, you are...everything. Everything I have today, I have because of you. And I don't think I could ever find a way to thank you for that."
She's full on sobbing now. She's sure her face is quite repulsive; with her runny nose and puffy, red eyes. But she can't help it. Merlin, she loves him so much. All she can see right now is him. Her once broken Draco. Her on the mend Draco. He's her person. Her home. She knows it with all her heart, can feel it coursing through her veins, can feel it in her bones.
And then he's crouching, until he's on one knee. And he's pulling out a box and she's gasping and covering her hands with her mouth. She's speechless. She's soaring. Her vision blurs and she blinks away the tears.
"Hermione Granger, do me the honor of taking me as your husband and let me show you, every day, for as long as you'll let me, how thankful I am for you."
She can't speak. Her mind has forgotten how to form words, let alone speak. All she can do is nod furiously and crash into him, her lips pressed tightly against his. Her arms are around his neck, touching every inch of his back she could reach in attempt to bring him closer.
They're both laughing when he slides the ring on her finger. The fourteen carat diamond ring fit snug around her ring finger.
Cheering exploded around them, making Hermione jump and break away from Draco's grasp. She lets out a laugh at the sight before her. Everyone is here. Her parents, Harry, the Weasleys, Neville, Luna. Blaise, Theo and Pansy are in the mix as well. They're cheering and clapping with the rest of them—Hermione waves at them, a wide grin pasted on her face.
She looks at them all, the people she loves and the man she loves most. Her Draco. Her heart swells again and she wishes she could find the words to tell them how much they mean to her. How much they've done for her.
Hermione turns and looks at her fiance. This time, the stars in his eyes are not lost to her. She sees them, clear as day. Impossible to miss. His arms are secure around her waist. He kisses her again and she sighs into him. She hopes he can feel how much she loves him. She cradles his face in her hands and presses her lips a little harder against his. The corners of his mouth pull upwards—she can feel his smile against her lips. He squeezes her tightly. She's home.
"My Draco." she whispers against his lips.
She presses her lips to his forehead, down his nose and across his cheeks.
"Merry Christmas, Hermione." he says softly.
"Merry Christmas, Draco." she replies, running her hand down his cheek.