Defending Heart

Chapter 13: Christmas Day

⚠️ Warning - Romantic interaction between adult/ underage minor. Mild sexual innuendos surrounding underage minor. ⚠️

Harry and Hermione wake up in the same bed, on different sides. It's the way they've woken up together on Christmas for years, but this time it lacks warmth. There's no cuddling or intimate closeness. Harry sits on the edge of the bed, still partially asleep while Hermione flits around the bedroom trying on different suit combinations. "What do you think?" she asks him, holding up a black button down and grey two-piece. Harry blinks a few times.

"I-It looks great!" he says with uncertainty, scratching his head and feeling his hair flop down the back of his hand. At least when it's semi-long it doesn't stick up in all directions before he brushes it. "You... look great, Hermione,"

Hermione huffs, beginning to change standing in front of him. Harry glances out the window, disappointed this isn't going to be a white Christmas. "I should make it snow in here - create a microclimate!" he suggests.

"No!" Hermione gasps. "You'll ruin my hair before the speech!"

Every Christmas Day, the Minister for Magic gives a speech tp the entire Wizarding world, done live in a huge amphitheatre before the most powerful and respected Wizards, like Dumbledore. It's similar to the Queen's Speech done each Christmas for the Muggles, only difference is this one isn't shown on TV. People usually either have to see the speech live or project it magically from something, but they need to be accepted by a communications channel to project it.

"Aw, fine," Harry pouts. "Oh! Before I forget!" he snaps his fingers in sudden elation and rummages through his unpacked trunk from Hogwarts, revealing a pair of long, dark robes from within. He holds them up and Hermione sees the Hogwarts crest on the back, the lace sparkling golden and red, the Gryffindor colours.

"It's your Christmas present, I thought you'd like it for your speech," he grins.

"Oh Harry, it's perfect!" Hermione gasps, lunging forward into a hug. They go to kiss, like an immediate autopilot before thankfully Harry hesitates and they solely break away. It's decided with a look that they wont discuss what just happened. "I have your present too, one second,"

Hermione ducks behind the bed, the same place they used to stash James' presents. She produces a small package wrapped in red paper. Harry's eyes glow with excitement as he delicately unties the bowed ribbon, letting strands falls between his fingers. He pulls open the parcel with a look of grave concentration that makes Hermione laugh. This is the most careful way she's ever seen someone unwrap presents. The paper falls away.

"Oh Hermione," he hadn't noticed before that she hasn't been wearing her wedding ring. Maybe a testament to his lack of perception, Harry finds the ring in a box along with a note written in parchment and ink, in the calligraphic handwriting of his wife.

For you, and your future, whoever that is with.

"What do you mean by whoever my future is with?" he asks, confused. Hermione's eyes glitter for a second.

"Oh, - nothing, just a sentiment,"

"I love it anyway," Harry gives her a small smile, realising that's not all that's in the box. Hand-woven bracelets in thick twine are in there too, intricate patterns of gold and red and black.

"They're friendship bracelets," Hermione picks hers from the box, tying the back string around her wrist. "I sent Ron one for Christmas also,"

She holds her wrist up to the light, letting Harry watch how the bracelet fits. "We each wear them as a symbol of friendship. I had them made specially by the nice old woman down the road,"