What if...

Nicknames and Gifts

"PETER PETTIGREW ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN!" The title of the Daily Prophet screamed on Christmas Eve.

This was one time Harry would actually read the Prophet.

"Two esteemed Azkaban guards reported the sight of a dirty brown rat that was fleeing to their boat. Moments later, they saw a bright red light and remember no more. We suspect they were stunned by the cowardly Pettigrew as he made his escape while the guards were still unconscious. The guards received no punishment, as it was beyond their control."

"Beyond their control?!" Harry repeated. "Just turn around, it's not hard." He was fuming at the guards.

"Harry." Hermione said softly, lacing their hands together under the table. "As much as I feel the same way, getting angry won't do anything to stop Pettigrew."

Harry didn't know whether this was another effect of the soul bond, but he felt instantly calm somehow.

"You're right, 'Mione." Harry said finally. He then almost slammed his head into his bowl of porridge.

Hermione hated nicknames. All of her friends knew that. And of course, his stupid brain had decided split-second that giving her a nickname would be a good idea.

Her red cheeks were clearly a sign that she didn't like it.

A million thoughts were flying through her head, so he couldn't understand any of them through their soul bond.

Though the main one Hermione was focusing on was how nice it sounded when he said her name like she was some sort of international treasure. She decided that if anyone was going to be able to give
her a nickname, and a good one at that, she would admit, then it would be Harry.

"'Mione?" She asked, a playful grin on her face Harry didn't see as he was facing the floor.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what-" Harry stuttered.

"Harry." Hermione said gently. "I love it." She assured him, her face looking slightly pink. Just to be sure, she pecked his cheek, and was delighted when it turned red. Despite being bound by their very souls, romantic endeavours still made them blush.

"Oh. Okay, 'Mione." Harry grinned, feeling special as he was the only one who Hermione had allowed to use a nickname for her. Neville had tried with 'Herms'. It had not ended well for the Herbology prodigy.

Harry smiled as he saw Hedwig fly in with a letter bearing the Gringotts seal.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, peering over his shoulder, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.

"A chainsaw." Draco said sarcastically. He had been invited over and was happy to sit with his real friends, ignoring the stares he received.

"Very funny." Hermione sniffed.

"It's a letter." Neville stated helpfully.

"Thank you, captain obvious." Harry snorted. "And don't worry, 'Mione, you'll find out soon enough."

It took a few seconds, but Neville and Draco got there in the end.

"'Mione?!"

..................................................................

Harry woke up to the feeling of his body being rocked violently, as if he were a boat traversing extremely dangerous waters. He opened his eyes and found that he was the boat and Neville was the water.

"Get up! It's Christmas!" Neville shouted into his ear, looking very excited.

Harry went back to sleep.