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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 123768 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties--all rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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Lucky Man

Hermione tried her best to ignore all the girls giggling and ogling Harry as she made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast with him. They couldn’t all possibly know yet, she told herself, and anyway, it would be unreasonable to expect that they wouldn’t find Harry fanciable after he’d tied Krum for first place.
But despite her attempts to reason with herself, Hermione couldn’t help finding all the attention lavished on her boyfriend annoying. She determinedly squashed her irritation, reminding herself that there were more important things to worry about - like keeping Harry alive.
The Great Hall was abuzz with conversation, giggles, and stares - which seemed to become more frequent and intense as breakfast wore on - and Harry looked as discomforted as Hermione herself felt. And poor Harry didn’t even have Ron to help distract him at the moment, as Ron was gravitating towards Neville for the time-being. But perhaps a shift in focus would help keep Harry’s mind occupied.
“So,” said Hermione crisply as Harry munched on a buttery crumpet, “how are you getting on with that Golden Egg Harry?”
Harry swallowed his mouthful before replying.
“Oh... er, fine,” he said shiftily.
“You haven’t even cracked it open again since the First Task celebration, have you?”
Hermione tried to give Harry a hard stare, but found her mouth twitching up at the corners. Harry grinned sheepishly.
“Er... Well, it’s barely been a week and a half since the First Task, and I reckon I’ve got loads of time till February 24th. That’s almost three months away.”
“But who knows how long it’ll take us to work out how to decipher the screeching?” Hermione reasonably pointed out. “And then - once we’ve figured out what the Second Task is - we’ll have to find the best spells to help you get through it and practice them. ... And the Second Task is hardly going to be easier than the first, is it? The tasks are just likely to get even more dangerous.”
Harry paled slightly, looking thoughtful as he considered Hermione’s words.
“Blimey! When you put it like that...” he muttered. “You’re right Hermione! I dunno what I was thinking!” Then a puzzled look crossed his features. “Wait... what did you mean, ‘we’? I thought I was supposed to work out the Clue by myself. You know... Triwiz rules? You even said so yourself.”
This time it was Hermione who looked slightly abashed, her cheeks growing warmer as they turned pink. She bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Well, yes, I did say that. But that was before...”
Harry raised his eyebrows, unable to prevent a little smirk from crossing his lips.
“Besides, the other Champions have an unfair advantage, having three years’ worth of magical training and knowledge on you,” Hermione added defensively. “And... and McGonagall as good as said that I should keep helping you.”
“I’m not complaining,” said Harry quietly. “And McGonagall’s right - I need you Hermione. You’re the smartest, loyalest, kindest person I know. ... You’ve stuck by me through everything, and I wouldn’t have got past the Dragon without your help...”
Another thought seemed to strike Harry; he cast his eyes down, looking deeply disturbed as he continued.
“I probably wouldn’t’ve survived this long without you. I... I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been - all the time I’ve wasted when I should be learning as much magic as possible! There’s a bloody evil genius after me, and I picked rubbish like Divination because it looked easy...”
Hating to see his confidence so shaken, Hermione quickly took Harry’s fork-free hand in her own and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Harry, don’t! ... Don’t beat yourself up like that,” she reassured him. “You’re brilliant in Defence - better than me - and amazing at Charms...”
“Took me ages to get Accio though...”
“That was just because you couldn’t concentrate. You were too upset about Ron ditching you and all the idiots wearing Potter Stinks badges. You would have have got it in no time flat otherwise. You’re brilliant in Charms! ... You can do a Corporeal Patronus! Not just anybody can produce a Patronus Charm, especially not a Corporeal Patronus - they’re beyond NEWT levels. And yours is off-the charts! It’s easily as powerful as Dumbledore’s.”
“It... it is?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, looking both surprised and skeptical.
“Yes Harry, it is! Last year, you chased off over a hundred Dementors with your Patronus. I wouldn’t have survived without you, Harry - none of us would have. You saved us all - you, me, and Sirius - from being Soul Murdered by those horrid wraiths.
“That’s almost unheard of. Most wizards who can perform Corporeal Patronuses can only manage to ward off between ten and twenty Dementors at best. The only other wizard powerful enough to chase off a hundred Dementors all by himself with a single Patronus is Dumbledore. He did it last year too, when all those Dementors swarmed you during the match.
“You didn’t see it because...” Hermione shuddered, remembering that terrifying quidditch match - the night she’d almost lost it, thinking Harry was dead when he hit the ground. “...because you passed out and fell off your broom.”
Harry peered at Hermione as if he were remembering something too. He returned Hermione’s comforting hand squeeze under the table with one of his own.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For making you cry.”
“It wasn’t your fault you fell off your broom - the Dementors...”
“No - I mean because I didn’t talk to you for a month after you told McGonagall about the Firebolt, when you were just trying to save my life. That was horrible of me...”
“I should have talked to you about it first,” Hermione moaned.
“You tried to, remember? But I was being an idiot,” Harry said firmly. “I should have taken it to McGonagall to be checked myself. I knew there was something weird about getting the most expensive broom in the world anonymously, even before you showed up in the common room.
“I knew Dumbledore or McGonagall or Lupin wouldn’t have forked out that much for me - I even told Ron so myself before you showed up - but I didn’t care. I ignored my own gut instinct because I was so excited to fly it. If Sirius really had been a bloodthirsty maniac, and you hadn’t done what you did, I could have died...”
Hermione’s heart began to race as Harry leaned in closer; she wondered if he was about to kiss her, in front of everyone at breakfast. But the moment was spoiled when Draco Malfoy swaggered up to the Gryffindor table, Pansy Parkinson at his side, both of them chortling.
“So is it true then, Potter?” Malfoy drawled. “You actually have a date with Granger? Skeeter actually got that bit right after all, did she, about you and Granger being besotted?”
“So what if she did?” Harry retorted coolly, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, it’s just a bit odd, considering the bit that Skeeter got wrong - you know, the rubbish about your ‘stunningly pretty’ girlfriend. I just reckoned someone of your station could do better than show up to a fancy shindig with a bushy haired, buck toothed Mudblood.”
Hermione scowled. Parvati and Lavender both shot vicious glares at Malfoy.
“I like Hermione’s hair - she’s perfect just the way she is,” said Harry, his voice even. “I almost feel sorry for Parkinson though, if you’re planning on making her get a nose-job before you think she’s good enough to go to the Ball with you.”
Hermione was startled, and under other circumstances might have admonished Harry for commenting on Pansy’s looks. But having so recently endured many of Pansy’s taunts about looking like a chipmunk or a jackrabbit, Hermione found it difficult to feel much sympathy for her. And she reckoned that Harry had hit uncomfortably close to home when Pansy gasped, suddenly clutching her hand to her face and shooting a dirty look at Draco. Seamus and Ron both sniggered.
“Watch your mouth, Potter,” sneered Malfoy, his pallid cheeks flushing. “Or you might not make it to the Second Task.”
“Right, because I’m really worried about you after facing a Dragon,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.
Fuming now, Malfoy huffed; he grabbed Pansy’s arm hard, making her squeak, and stalked off with her.
A number of emotions rushing through her veins, Hermione was very pleased with Harry’s cool-headed response and sharp comebacks. But some of his proclamations had left her with butterflies in her stomach. Of course, Harry could have just been being kind, defending her from Draco Malfoy’s taunts. Hermione dithered for a moment before deciding to ask.
“Harry - what you said... about my hair...?”
“I love your hair!” said Harry firmly. “And I noticed recently that you shrank your teeth a bit, but I thought they were fine just the way they were. I meant it when I said you’re perfect just as you are, and yesterday when I said that you’re beautiful!”
Hermione blushed. Harry seemed to think he’d said enough, because he turned pink and focused on finishing his breakfast, digging into his scrambled eggs and bacon.
As the day wore on, many of the girls who had been eyeballing Harry and giggling earlier began looking very disappointed as it became more clear that the rumours sweeping through the castle about Harry taking Hermione to the Yule Ball were true. By the end of the day, everyone seemed to know.
Harry, determined to make up for lost time, hadn’t hesitated when Hermione suggested that they make a trip to the library to see if there was anything which would help with the Golden Egg clue. Unfortunately they had found next to nothing in the books about Golden Eggs, excepting a snippet in a chapter in a book about King Midas - an ancient Greek Alchemist who had apparently worked out the secret of turning things into gold.
“...but that’s it,” said Hermione, slamming the book shut in exasperation. “Just a passage about him transforming goose eggs into gold. And nothing about it seems relevant to screeching eggs.”
“Hmm... D’you think that’s where the story of the goose who laid the golden egg came from?” asked Harry.
“You know, I think it might, actually,” said Hermione. “But that gives me another idea...”
As Hermione darted off to look for another book, she noticed that Viktor Krum was yet again lurking in the library, this time with a perplexed look on his face. But by the time she returned with a book on the reproduction cycles of magical land and water fowl, he was gone. Hermione plopped down in her seat, noticing Harry with his head in a book about Banshees.
“Banshees?” she said questioningly.
“Well, it sounded horrible when I opened the egg - like screaming Banshees, so I thought maybe this book would have something about translating Banshee shrieks, but there’s really nothing in here except to say that their screams are actually a defence mechanism.”
“Oh, that’s a very clever idea, Harry. It’s a shame that it didn’t pan out,” She stared at Harry for a moment, quite impressed with his brainwave, which set her on another track of thought. “Of course!” she burst out, “We’ve been going about this all wrong! This isn’t about the egg at all...”
Hermione jumped up again, and ran off to look for more books. When she found the section on magical languages, Hermione pulled a dozen books off the shelf, and returned, puffing from exertion under the weight of the heavy tomes. Harry’s eyes boggled at the sight of all the books.
“You take that pile, Harry,” she said, pushing several books towards him. “Look for any magical languages described as sounding screechy or screamy to humans...”
“Your pile is loads bigger,” Harry noted wryly.
“I’m a faster reader...” Hermione shot him an apologetic look, almost as soon as she had said it, horrified, and hoping she hadn’t damaged their burgeoning new relationship. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like you’re slow. Your reading speed is perfectly normal.”
“No need to apologise, Hermione,” said Harry, grinning. “I know you’re a genius, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
Blushing furiously, Hermione propped up the first volume in front of her, hiding her strawberry-red cheeks. Indeed, Harry was only halfway through his first book by the time Hermione cracked open her third. She had nearly finished it before she found something which looked promising.
“Harry,” she squeaked excitedly as her eyeballs flew across the page she was perusing, “I think I might have found something. Listen: Mermish, the language of the Merfolk - also known as the Nereid - is a language harsh, sometimes even painful, to human ears, and indecipherable above water. However, once the Nereid is submerged, the sounds of its utterance is magically transmogrified, which is then interpreted by the brain of the listener to be in the language of the listener’s native tongue.
“It is important to note that this does not connote the reverse to be the case. In order to carry on a conversation with members of the Nereid species, a human must learn how to speak and understand the Natural Language...”
“Blimey!” swore Harry, dropping his book on the table and bolting up from his chair. “That could be it Hermione! Maybe I need to open the Egg underwater. Let’s go get it and see.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yeah, while it’s still light outside. It gets dark too early this time of year.”
“Oh, er... okay.” Hermione hurriedly threw her bag over her shoulder, and trotted after Harry, suddenly comprehending his spur of the moment plan.

~o0o~
Once back at Gryffindor Tower, Harry raced up the stairs to the dormitory, tossed his book bag on his bed, and flung open his trunk, retrieving his Egg and shoving it in the pocket of his robes. Dashing back down to the common room, Harry looked impatiently around for Hermione, breathing a sigh of relief to see her arrive moments later, looking slightly out of breath.
“Come on,” he said eagerly, grabbing Hermione’s hand and pulling her towards the portrait hole.
“Harry,” she wheezed as they ran through the castle, “maybe there’s some other way - perhaps a tub...”
“Then we’d have to find a tub somewhere,” Harry argued. “This is quicker.”
“Fair point,” Hermione agreed. “As long as you’re not fussed about the cold.”
Once he threw open the castle doors, Harry had to admit it was freezing outside; icy rain which was nearly sleet fell from slate-grey clouds. But he’d never let cold and wet stop him before, and he wasn’t about to start now. Hand in hand, he and Hermione pelted down the hillside until they reached the edge of the lake.
The surface of the cold water rippled where the raindrops fell, and the dark silhouette of the Durmstrang ship stood out against the already snow-covered mountains surrounding the lake, cutting a breathtaking wintry scene. His hands shaking slightly, Harry held the Golden Egg in his hand and kneeled beside the lakeshore.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, grinning at Hermione.
Then, taking a deep breath, Harry thrust his hands into the freezing water; he opened the Egg and leaned over, plunging his head in for a listen. He was surprised when another head suddenly appeared next to his own under the surface of the lake, but he tried to maintain his concentration, thrilled that Hermione’s research had paid off. Instead of the sound of a thousand screeching banshees, an ethereal seraphic choir could be heard.
There was something oddly enticing about the unearthly, seductive chorus of feminine voices, despite the somewhat dismal nature of the song itself. If Hermione weren’t his girlfriend now, Harry could imagine that he might have to follow those enchanting voices no matter where they led. But whatever magic the voices held were no match for her.

Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching ponder this,
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour, the prospect’s black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
Harry’s head broke the surface with a splash as he gasped for breath, wiping his shaggy drenched fringe from his eyes and replacing his glasses. He glanced at Hermione who was sputtering and shivering beside him, her normally bushy hair dripping and plastered to her head.
“You know you didn’t have to...” he began.
“You d...didn’t th...think I was g...going to be left out, d...did you?” Hermione interjected, her teeth chattering.
“Not really,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want you to freeze to death. Anyway, you deserved to listen for yourself - you were bang on about the Mermish - You’re a bloody genius Hermione! I dunno if I’d’ve ever worked that out by myself.”
“J...j...just a b...bit of research, H...Harry,” Hermione retorted, managing to look a bit pleased and embarrassed all at once. “A...anyway, it was y...your idea w...which inspired me. You’re b...b...brilliant too!”
Hermione shivered again, her lips turning blue. Harry didn’t know what came over him: maybe it was Hermione’s high praises, maybe it was her loyalty, or the thrill of discovery, or the fact that she’d helped him solve yet another problem, or that she looked beautiful and half-frozen and in need of warming. Whatever it was, Harry moved as if possessed, leaning towards Hermione, and kissed her.
Hermione was taken by surprise when Harry chose that moment to kiss her, but she’d been hoping ever since that morning that the right opportunity would arise again and she gave herself to the moment, the heat of the kiss thawing her frozen lips. Shivers of elation instead of cold rushed through her veins and Hermione took Harry’s damp head in her hands, not wanting the kiss to end.
Of course, eventually it did have to end, and Hermione couldn’t help feeling vaguely disappointed when their lips parted. Harry must have caught the yearning look and misread it, she thought, when he suddenly flushed a deep shade of red plum.
“Er.... Sorry,” he muttered. “I just... I thought... er, you looked kissable.”
Hermione almost giggled, but caught herself, beaming back at Harry as she shook her head, feeling her own face grow hotter.
“Don’t be sorry!” she squeaked. “It was lovely. I just... er, I didn’t want it to be over.”
And to prove it, Hermione leaned towards her surprised looking Harry and pressed her lips to his again. They both lost themselves in one another for an endless moment, and when the second steamy kiss was finished, Harry looked utterly dazed, grinning giddily.
Footsteps crunching on frosty pebbles broke the moment. Hermione and Harry both scrambled to their feet, faces blazing with embarrassment.
Harry swallowed nervously, eyeing the surly looking figure of Viktor Krum who was braving the icy rain in jogging gear and trainers. Harry’s hand hovered near his wand, recalling Sirius’s admonition to be cautious around Karkaroff’s students. He was startled when a sardonic smirk crossed Krum’s features.
“So, is true then - Skeeter’s article and rumours zat you and Her-my-own-ninny are together,” said Krum, his voice heavily accented.
“Er... what?” Harry gaped at Krum. That was the last thing he had expected the Durmstrang Champion to bring up. Hermione seemed equally stunned, apparently to the point of speechlessness.
“I vos hoping zat were only rumours,” Krum tried to explain. “I see Skeeter’s article, but I do not believe. Zen I hear ozzers say is true today, and I am not so certain. I hoped to ask Her-my-own-ninny for date - but now I see truth. Please can forgive me?”
“Forgive you? Oh, er... Yeah! Of course,” said Harry, still amazed, but starting to feel a lot friendlier toward the Durmstrang Champion. Without the scowl on his face, Krum didn’t seem at all the sort who would be into Dark Magic.
“You... you were actually going to ask me out?” Hermione squeaked, having finally found her voice. “Why me?”
Harry grinned at Hermione’s utterly bewildered expression. Krum glanced at Harry, looking like he was carefully considering his words before speaking to Hermione.
“All I can say, is zat Harry Potter is very lucky man to haff you as girlfriend. I must now look elsewhere for date.” Krum smiled wryly, then turned back to Harry. “I haff heard you are very good flyer, Harry Potter - Seeker like me. Perhaps ve could fly together some time?”
Harry felt a little woozy, astonished yet again to be treated as an equal by the older Champion and Professional Quidditch player.
“Er... yeah!” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “That sounds great! And it’s Harry... just Harry is fine.”
“My friends call me Viktor.” Krum reached his hand out to shake Harry’s. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Harry. ... And you also, Her-my-own-ninny,” he added with a little bow.
“If... if you’d like, I might know someone who would be interested in a date,” said Hermione.
Viktor looked thoughtful for a moment before responding.
“If she is friend of yours, she must be nice. Perhaps she vould like to meet tomorrow. Now I must take my leave - return to ship before too dark.”
Harry and Hermione both watched their new friend traipse off along the lakeshore to where the Durmstrang ship was docked, growing soggier as the rain continued to fall from the darkening skies. Then the quiet pair made their way back up the hill to the castle, both wrapped up in their thoughts.
Halfway up the hill, under a copse of pines, Harry suddenly halted. Hermione stopped and turned to give him a puzzled look. Harry took Hermione’s hands and peered earnestly into her big brown eyes.
“He’s right you know,” said Harry, his heart thumping in his ears. “Viktor’s right! ... I am really lucky... and Malfoy’s an idiot! Viktor could have any girl he wanted, but it was you who caught his fancy, Hermione. ... He obviously sees what I see - how gorgeous you really are! ...”
Hermione bit her lip and blushed, fluttering her eyelashes shyly.
Harry swallowed, hesitating, wondering if things were moving too quickly. But the more he thought about it, though the revelations of the last couple of days had been profound and coming at him fast, they had been more or less the ripping open of a curtain which had been covering the steady build up of three and a half years worth of previously unacknowledged feelings. Harry decided to go for broke and let the chips fall where they may.
“...You’re the best thing that ever happened to me!” he continued. “I... I love you Hermione!”
Hermione’s eyes widened, her heart soaring, stunned at Harry’s earnest declaration. She trembled slightly as she melted in Harry’s green gaze.
“I love you too Harry,” she murmured. The next thing she knew their lips had met again for another deep, burning kiss - a kiss which curled her toes and kept her warm even after, through the icy downpour all the rest of the way to the castle.
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise