The Hogwarts Lonely Hearts Club

Hermione's Christmas Presence

Three days later and it was the day before Christmas Eve. Snow had begun to fall heavily on London, bringing much of the Muggle side to a standstill. It simply wasn't a society equipped to deal with severely adverse weather, so traffic hardly entered the city, people threw snowballs at each other in Piccadilly Circus, and the sprawling festive markets did a roaring trade, as the carpets of snow brought out the romantic in everyone.

Today was also the final chance that Hermione would have to buy Harry's Christmas present, but she still couldn't decide on what to get for him. For despite being more accustomed to present buying, this was the first time that she was gifting to a friend, herself. This was an entirely new scenario for the previously friendless witch, and she wanted to get it just right.

But the process was proving more difficult than Hermione had first imagined. None of her ideas seemed to satisfy her, or felt more suited to if she were buying for her own tastes rather than Harry's. She loved the many commonalities they shared, but a plethora of books, or a myriad of study aids, didn't strike her as the sort of present which would properly convey her affection. And she wanted that to be clear in whatever she did decide to give to him as his first ever Christmas present.

Though on that score, Hermione was at pains to not be too explicit, lest Harry got scared off and ran a mile from her ... for that wouldn't do at all.

Because despite all the teasing, despite all her denials, Hermione knew for certain now that Harry Potter had claimed as his own some silly corner of her newly stirring heart. It was a part that would never belong to anyone else as long as Hermione lived, no matter what might happen in the future. It made the organ quiver and flutter just to think about it, to remember how her skin shivered when Harry's warm breath had whispered Merry Christmas into her ear, as they hugged after the Hogsmeade visit.

Indeed, she still tingled from the sensation ... as sweet as sherbet, as cosy as rain on a cabin roof. She could easily grow addicted to it if she wasn't careful.

Which was why such care was needed on this present-buying expedition. Hermione had brought her mother along to give her some sage advice, travelling to Didcot railway station - which was as far as the car could safely go in the snow - where they would catch a special train into the Magical side of London.

"Are you sure we can get a train from here?" Catrin asked as they trudged up the icy stone steps to the platform. "This side of the station looks like it hasn't been used in years."

Hermione rolled her eyes, as she prone to do when challenged. "Of course we can, Mother. This is a special platform, and it only looks abandoned to non-Magical eyes, so that other people wont come snooping about. Just give me a minute."

Then Hermione looked around. Seeing that they were quite alone in the lightly falling snow, the witch drew her wand and gave it a deft flick in a practiced manner. For a second or two, nothing happened. Undeterred, Hermione tried again with a , a little more force. This time, a scrawny youth stepped out from a doorway disguised as a disused information board a few steps away. He was bedecked in a uniform of gold and silver, with smart trousers, a blazer and his pock-marked face pink with cold beneath a gold and silver flat hat.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on. What choo in such an hurry for, eh?"

"We'd like to catch the next train to London, if you ever decide to open the barrier for us, Stan," Hermione huffed impatiently.

"Oh, it's you, Hermy. Might have guessed. Choo going to London for?"

"You can guess that too, once we are on the train and far away," Hermione scythed. "And please don't call me Hermy, I've told you before that I don't like it."