I'll Be Home For Christmas

Dear Hermione:

Wish I were home with you and Kelly. I really missing watching her grow. Everything is winding down, and I can't wait to come home. Things here are fine and going along pretty slowly. I must go for now but I will write more soon. Please tell Kelly I love her and give her a kiss from me.

Hermione, please don't fret. I'll be home for Christmas, you'll see. It'll all be over soon. I promise.

Love, Harry.

Harry finished the letter with sagging shoulders, and dropped the quill to the ground. Things here are not fine. But he still intended to be home for his daughter's first Christmas. He would be home for Kelly and Hermione. The war would be over. That, of course, only left him about nine days to end the war and find his way home. But Harry would see it done.

I'll be home for Christmas

Just you wait and see

Harry looked outside the tent, sighing deeply. He just never should have married Hermione before the war. Why could he not have waited? Why, why, why?!

Because you were in love, came a voice answering, echoing through his mind. Because I was in love, he repeated. I was in love.

"Harry?" someone questioned, poking their head around the tent flap.

"Yeah?" he answered, wiping his fingers along his eyes quickly.

"There's a letter for you, your owl is out here."

"Oh, thank you," Harry said, standing up meet Hedwig.

When Harry untied the letter from her talons, Hedwig crooned and jabbed her beak into her stomach feathers. Absently, Harry petted her back while reading the letter. After he finished, he folded the letter, and pushed it into his pocket, tying the new one to her talons.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, as she made an owl face of exasperation. "Last one for a bit, okay?"

She nipped at him with veneration before spreading her wings and taking flight once again, trying to catch a wind that wasn't there. Harry watched her fly away, disappearing into the sky full of clouds, a promise of snow.

Dearest Harry:

Well, we got a tree the other day. I didn't know what to do for ornaments, so I borrowed a lot from my mum and dad. But I did go to Diagon Alley to find some, too, and they had some really interesting decorations. I've never had Christmas lights like these; they change color, like lots of muggle ones, but these also change shapes. And I've yet to catch the same shape twice. You should see it; I've never had this much fun watching a tree!

By the way, Ron came the other day, on his way out of town. Said he was off to come find you, so I expect you may see him soon.

Kelly and I are meeting my parents soon, so I will have to stop writing for now. Kelly is missing you, as am I, and we hope to see you soon.

With all my love,

Hermione

Harry smiled slightly, trying to imagine the house, all decorated for Christmas. He saw the tree in his mind's eye, the colors and shapes of the lights shifting together. There were presents under the tree; big ones, probably from Hermione's parents. He could hear Christmas music playing on the radio and Hermione danced into sight, carrying little Kelly in her arms. She spun in circles, singing along, where Kelly's face held that of unmistakable baby joy. Harry's eyes misted over at the beautiful sight.

Oh, how Harry wished he could hold Kelly again, just as he wanted to hold Hermione. He wanted to be with his family this Christmas. He didn't want to be out here in the middle of nowhere, fighting this war, soon to fight a battle with the worst man ever to exist. He wanted to go home.

There'll be snow and mistletoe

And presents 'neath the tree

**********************************

Hermione sat in the couch by the tree, Kelly asleep in her lap. His letter was crumpled in her fingers, and her forehead rested in her other hand.

I'll be home for Christmas, you'll see. It'll all be over soon. I promise.

Love, Harry.

And here it was, Christmas Eve. While others sat in late night Christmas Eve services or around the tree opening early presents, Hermione wallowed in despair; wishing for Harry.

"Oh Dear God, Harry, you don't have to be home tonight. Just come home, Harry, just come home."

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams

Climbing the stairs to take Kelly to her cradle, Hermione's thoughts delayed on Harry. Everything for Christmas was ready, everything except for Harry. He had promised, and she hadn't wanted to believe, but she had. She had believed everything he told her. She just wanted him home, and his promises were all she had now.

With Kelly safely in the cradle, cuddled up with her blanket, Hermione walked to her room. She stalled at window, her eyes drawn to the stars in the sky.

"He'll be home," she demanded herself to believe, eyes still transfixed on the star. "He'll be home with us."

She just had to believe once more.

I'll be home for Christmas

The tall, inhuman . . . man stood bent over, face shoved close to face with the Hero who lay amidst defeat.

"Goodbye, Potter," Voldemort hissed into Harry's face. "I think I will leave you here to die slowly and painfully. And you will just have to imagine all the things I will do to your friends before you die."

With that, he sent a mocking glance Harry's way before raising his fingers, as if to snap them together. Lifting an eyebrow, he began to speak one last word -

Harry cried out to the night, his fingers tight around his wand, "Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort's mouth dropped open before his body crumpled to the ground - dead. Harry's fingers shook violently . . . he had just murdered someone. He made someone die. On Christmas Eve. His wand slipped from his fingers, and he curled them into a fist his nails jabbing into his palm, crying out again. This time, anger laced in with the frustration and pain.

Harry tried to stand, but everything was leaving. He tried to feel around for his wand, but his fingers fell to the ground and lay still. All leaving him. His strength, his will. His body and heart were breaking at once. He was going to die twenty feet from the worst man ever to walk this planet. The one he had killed.

And he was going to miss everything. Everything.

His daughter growing up; he was going to miss it all. He wouldn't watch Kelly take her first steps or say her first words. She would go off to school for the first time without a kiss from her father. In the middle of the night she'll wake up from nightmares, and Harry won't be able to calm her. She would bring her first boyfriend home, and Harry wouldn't be there to meet him. When she married, someone else would give her away at her wedding.

And Hermione. Oh, Hermione. He won't ever kiss her again. He'll never put his arms around her and feel her warmth. Never again will he be able to jump life's adventures hand in hand with her. They won't recount their memories together ever. And they won't grow old together. Hermione will grow old and wise alone, and he would die here, tonight.

He pictured the cozy front room of his house again . . . one last time. He watched as Hermione and Kelly sat on the floor, ripping the wrapping paper off the boxes. Kelly cooed to herself, bouncing her toys around while sitting in Hermione's lap. Hermione looked up, right to Harry, and she stared longingly into his eyes.

"I love you," she whispered to Harry.

Harry smiled one last weak smile before closing his eyes.

If only in my dreams