"Harry," a voice called to the teenager as he walked into the living room of his house in America. He looked around to see the house was decorated for Christmas, including a large pine tree covered in lights and ornaments. However, no wrapped packages were under the tree. Instead was a beautiful English girl with bushy brown hair. She was wearing a green robe fastened around her by a large red bow. She smiled at him and said, "Happy Christmas." His mouth went dry as he started walking toward her for about five seconds until he heard a male voice calling his name.
"Wake up, Harry," the voice called again, causing the Boy-Who-Lived-In-Secret to open his eyes. Now, instead of looking at Hermione, he was looking at Cedric Diggory. He glared at the evil monster who'd just pulled him away from his wonderful dream.
"Just five more minutes," he muttered before grabbing his pillow and putting it over his eyes.
"All right. I just thought you'd want to know your girlfriend is outside, but I'll just tell her you thought sleep was more important." Cedric laughed as a now fully-awake Harry jumped out of bed.
"Tell her I'll be there in ten minutes." Even though he was anxious to see Hermione, he figured she'd prefer he shower first. 'And brush my teeth,' he added silently, remembering her greeting the month before, when they'd snogged in front of everybody.
"I will," replied Cedric. "And Happy Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Harry managed to say before closing the bathroom door.
-HM-HM-HM-
Nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds later, Harry, with messy wet hair, pushed the door to the temporary Hogwarts boys' dormitory open to see, "Hermione!" sitting on a stool reading. She was wearing jeans and a winter coat with her hair in a simple ponytail, but as far as he was concerned, she was wearing the most exquisite outfit in the world. She looked up and smiled radiantly at him. Before she could even say anything, he'd put his hands on her cheeks, bent down and kissed her. He hadn't even noticed the plant Hermione had sat under, but followed the tradition anyway.
How he missed that simple, yet amazing sensation of touching his lips to hers. He forgot all about the pressures on him to open the Yule Ball, to figure out the clue for the second task of the tournament, even the tournament itself, as he let himself get lost in this glorious moment, until a bright flash caused them to pull apart.
He looked around to see a woman, who he guessed was a reporter, putting down a camera. She had long straight black hair that was just showing hints of going gray. If he had to guess, Harry would've said the woman was in her early fifties. "How stirring," she commented in French. "The youngest champion has a brief moment under the mistletoe with his girlfriend. I'd imagine you miss him, Miss Granger. Especially knowing how many French girls much prettier than you have been propositioning him."
Before Hermione answered, Harry angrily remarked, "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen one French girl who's half as beautiful as Hermione. We were just leaving."
He didn't even notice the bright smile on his girlfriend's face, but he did hear her whisper into his ear, "Happy Christmas, my love."
-HM-HM-HM-
After a delightful breakfast, during which Harry realized that in his rush to see Hermione, he hadn't even noticed the stack of presents by his bed, the couple returned to his dorm and he began opening presents. The way he'd realized his oversight was when Hermione thanked him for the present he'd gotten her – a book on the history of Magical France, written in French, along with a bottle of genuine French perfume, charmed to protect the wearer from minor hexes.
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Harry McGonagall (Completed)
FanfictionProfessor McGonagall has watched the Dursleys all day and can see what sort of people they are. When Dumbledore leaves Harry on their doorstep and disappears, she takes him away.
