Mistletoe

Mistletoe

She sighed, her brown eyes gazing blankly out the window, her fingers tapping listlessly on the sill in front of her. What was it about the holidays that brought her spirits down as much as it brought them up? She didn't understand it. The beautiful white snow blanketing the impressive grounds of Hogwarts in its winter splendor, the cheerfully cackling fire in the scarlet-and-gold draped Gryffindor common room, the merrily twinkling lights, yards of fresh green holly and red ribbons, mistletoe everywhere... The festive decorations left no doubt about the upcoming holiday and though it signified the end of the first term and beginning of the second, and with that, the approaching exams, the fact didn't bother her as much as people seemed to think. She was content to enjoy the Christmas season, if only she could drag herself out of this blue funk.

"Hey." The gentle voice was accompanied with a slight nudge. Hermione blinked and raised her gaze to see her best friend sitting down beside her on the crimson loveseat in front of the common room's one window. "Got the best seat in the room, I see," he said with a smile.

She couldn't help but return it with one of her own. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey, yourself." He handed her a mug of steaming hot chocolate with mini marshmallows melting into the hot confection. "Holidays just aren't the same without hot chocolate." He took a sip from his own mug and they sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Hermione wrapped her hands around her warm mug, her heart warming in much the same way at Harry's quiet thoughtfulness. He may have been a celebrity of sorts and the best Quidditch player Hogwarts had ever seen, but he was still down-to-earth and friendly. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and was surprised to find him studying her as well.

"You look kind of depressed, Hermione," he observed. His green eyes were inquisitive. "Anything you want to talk about?"

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and gave him an embarrassed smile. "I'm not quite sure myself," she said, running her finger around the rim of her mug, "what I'm depressed about, I mean. Something about the season just gets to me, I suppose."

He was silent for a moment, fiddling with the hem of one of the emerald green sweaters Mrs. Weasley had sent him the last five years and would be sure to send another this year. Hermione watched his fingers play with the knitted fabric, made with love; its color carefully chosen to match his eyes and bring out his good looks.

"Why didn't you go home for the holidays?"

She jerked her eyes to his. "I-I don't know," she stammered, shifting uneasily under his searching gaze. "I just had a lot of things--school things--I had to take care of... Projects, homework...as prefect, you know, I have a lot of responsibilities--" She stopped as he shook his head at her, smiling a little.

"This is me, remember? You don't have to give excuses." He gently brushed her loose hair back from her face. "I just want to know."

Hermione looked at her lap. "I..." She bit her lip then sighed, shifting and leaning her head on his shoulder the way she had so many times in the past. "My mom and I," she began in a hesitant voice, "we've grown apart. She doesn't understand so much of my life. So many things, little things, like shopping in Diagon Alley, trips to Hogsmeade...even my classes at school." Her voice caught. "So many things separate my world from hers..." She broke off and blinked back tears. Harry silently slid his hand over hers, giving her a supportive squeeze. "I'm just a little lonely," Hermione whispered, finally acknowledging what had been bothering her since her return to Hogwarts as a 6th-year prefect. She looked up at her best friend for five and a half years, taking in his unruly black hair, covering a scar so well-known in the wizarding world, emerald eyes, and a mouth almost always quirking up in a ready smile...

"You and Ron were always off talking about Quidditch, or you were at practice, or playing wizard's chess..." She instinctively moved closer to him, comforted by his presence, his familiarity, the fact that he was finally there. "I was so busy with all my classes, all the homework, all the prefect duties... We hardly ever saw each other, Harry." Her voice wavered. "Then Ron and Lavender...I saw even less of him. And you, Harry, you and Cho were always together. I felt...left out." She laughed shakily. "I just immersed myself more in my studies, telling myself it didn't mater, we were still friends... No one noticed, anyway."

Harry shook his head at her. "Oh Hermione," he said, looking pained. "You've got it all wrong. Me and Ron, we...we thought you didn't need us. I mean, you were prefect. You were at the top of our class. You were always so busy...you never even came out to my Quidditch practices anymore," he stated in a hurt voice.

"I was always there at the matches," Hermione replied fiercely, her eyes flashing golden-brown fire. "I'd never miss a match no matter how busy I was."

He brightened at that and then sighed. "We've been idiots, haven't we? Avoiding each other, thinking..." Shaking his head, he squeezed her hand and smiled. "I'm just glad we're back."

She returned his smile, impossible as it was for her to resist it. "Me, too." She snuggled up against him, their hand still linked, both nestled in the warm loveseat with their mugs of hot chocolate and their best friend at their side. Hermione was happy, her heart full of love and contentment, no long yearning for that something--for her friends, for Harry--and she was pleased to sit quietly, ensconced in silence, comfortable and secure, satisfied and at peace with the world. Then Harry, after a lengthy and thorough examination of every Christmas decoration decking the Gryffindor common room, said so softly Hermione wasn't sure she'd heard him right, "Did you know that me and Cho broke up?"

Eyes widening, she sat up and stared at him in surprise. "You did? Why? You were so happy together!"

"I wanted to be fair to her." He blinked owlishly behind his glasses. "She's a beautiful person, inside and out." His gaze was now firmly fixed to the carpeting beneath his feet. "She deserved a guy who loved her completely...one who hadn't already fallen in love with someone else." He glanced up.

Hermione was speechless. What was he saying? And why was he looking at her like that--? Heart pounding wildly, she told herself not to get her hopes up. "Harry," she whispered just as he murmured, "Hermione," and reached up gently to cup her face.

"Hermione--I--" His eyes searched hers, looking for something, a sign perhaps. He must have found it for the next thing she knew, he was kissing her, softly, sweetly, just a mere brush of the lips that sent her pulse racing madly. When he drew back, she saw the red in his cheeks.

"Harry?" she whispered again, unconsciously setting her mug on the sill. Her other hand, freed from his clasp when he'd stroked her cheek, reached instinctively for him.

"I love you, Hermione," he said fiercely, capturing her hand with his. "I can't tell you when I fell in love with you--by the time I realized it, I was already gone. It's just you...everything about you. I can't help it." He drew her to him and stared down into her face, his face creased with nervousness. "Will you have me?" he asked softly.

Unbidden, tears rose to Hermione's eyes. Never had she-- Not even in her wildest-- He'd been with Cho...she hadn't dared to hope. But it seemed--could it be?--that he felt the same way?

"I love you, Harry."

All of a sudden, she was in his arms and a mug of half-drunken hot chocolate found its way to the floor, unnoticed as it spilled across the carpet, leaving a stain to mark a memory. The two entangled on the loveseat above were occupied in making the memory with tears and hugs and whispers of "I love you" and "I love you, too" and "Why didn't you tell me?"Â Secluded away in their private alcove by the window, their emotional scene went unnoticed by all, friends and housemates who had known all along and would be loudly proclaiming it the next day when they found out their predictions had finally come true.

Harry was grinning when the girl in his arms pointed to the mistletoe dangling above their heads, secured to the window that opened to a wonderland of white. Blissfully ignoring the fairyland outside, Harry obligingly took Hermione in his arms and kissed her until they were both sure that this Christmas, though miles away from any relatives, they were truly at home.

A little ways away, a blonde girl elbowed the redheaded boy next to her. "That mistletoe wasn't there a minute ago was it?" she hissed, her tone accusing but the dimpled smile and dancing blue eyes giving away her glee.

Ron laughed and wrapped his arm around Lavender. "Nope," he said cheerfully. With a tender look, he kissed her forehead. "Merry Christmas, love."

~FiN~

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