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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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Physical Activities

Harry and Hermione had received a few odd glances when they returned to Gryffindor Tower, wet and dripping all over the scarlet and gold rugs. But after changing into clean dry clothes, and settling together in a little settee near the fireplace in the common room, nobody gave them a second look. For a few minutes they both basked in the heat of the crackling flames, simply enjoying the warmth.
“So, what do you think about the rhyme, Harry?” asked Hermione, finally breaking the silence.
“Well, seems pretty obvious seeing as it was in Mermish,” Harry replied. “The Merpeople are somehow going to steal something of mine, something I’ll really miss. They’ll hide it in the lake somewhere and I’ll have an hour to get it back. Pretty basic, really! ... Dunno what they’d steal from me though.
“I doubt they’d know about the Marauder’s Map or my Invisibility Cloak - and I reckon they’d have to leave me my wand. So, maybe my Firebolt?”
“Yes...” Hermione nodded slowly, her brows knitted in thought. “That’s more or less what I was thinking too. It does seem to be the most logical interpretation of the song...”
“...but it seems like there’s more to it, doesn’t it?” said Harry, picking up on Hermione’s uncertainty. “Anyway, whatever it is, isn’t the most important bit right now. My biggest problems are that I don’t know how to swim, and I reckon I’ll need a spell or some sort of magic to breathe under water.”
“What? You’ve never been swimming?” Hermione peered at Harry with surprise.
“The Dursleys,” Harry muttered, “They always left me locked in my... er, at home, when they took Dudley swimming, or left me at Mrs Figg’s when they went on day-trips to the beach. And my primary school didn’t have a pool.”
Hermione scowled, catching Harry’s near slip. She’d gathered from some of the things that Harry had been more open about over the years that the Dursleys weren’t at all nice to him, and she knew that Harry had had bars on his bedroom window from the story of how the Weasley brothers had rescued him the summer before second year.
But there was something much more than simple dislike and strict parenting which Harry would almost never talk about. Hermione vowed to herself to press him on it eventually, but now didn’t really seem like the right time.
“That’s alright Harry, I can teach you all the basic swim strokes,” she said gently. “Though it’ll be a bit hard learning in the lake during the winter - I suppose we can look in Advanced Charms textbooks from later years or in the library for warming charms.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks Hermione.” Harry paused for a moment, and Hermione could see another query forming in his mind, this one apparently even more anxiety inducing. “Er... I don’t suppose you could teach me how to dance too?”
“Actually, I can,” Hermione replied, smiling, thrilled to finally have the opportunity to put her skills to use. “Mum and Dad gave me lessons when I was little...” She left it there, not liking to admit that nobody had ever wanted to dance with her at any of the functions she had attended with her parents - not that most boys were ever very keen to dance anyway, at any age apparently.
“Brilliant!” said Harry, breathing a huge sigh of relief...

~o0o~
The last weeks of the term before the start of the Christmas Holidays were busier than Harry had ever imagined they could be. Not only was he contending with piles of homework that some teachers like McGonagall and Snape were doling out, but now, he also had swim and dance lessons with Hermione.
And though he much preferred the swimming and dancing lessons, Harry found himself with a new appreciation for studying his other subjects with Hermione as well. Harry reckoned that Snape would be in for a big surprise when he aced the Antidotes Exam that he was certain Snape had planned for the last day of the term - as long as he managed to concentrate and ignore Snape’s usual deliberate attempts to antagonise and sabotage him during exams.
Hermione had found a Warming Charm in one of the Advanced Charms books, and they had both managed to learn it in one afternoon, which made swim lessons in the increasingly icy lake much more palatable - especially when it began snowing properly. They still hadn’t discovered anything in the library which would allow Harry to breathe underwater, but there was plenty of time for that now.
Harry’s biggest concern after that, wasn’t so much finding unused classrooms in which to practice dancing with Hermione, but making sure they wouldn’t be caught off guard by other students walking in on them. He was still utterly embarrassed by the idea of others seeing him dance, certain that he would be the only Champion with two left feet. So he had taken to bringing along the Marauder’s Map to find the most isolated unused classrooms, and had practiced Colloportus, the Locking Charm, to keep other students out.
Meanwhile, though neither were actively avoiding Harry and Hermione anymore, Ron and Neville more or less kept to themselves, vacillating between trying to pluck up the courage to ask girls to the Yule Ball, and just giving up the ghost, opting to go stag instead.
“Why do they all hang out in packs?” Neville moaned as they passed a gaggle of giggling girls in the hallway. “How are you supposed to get one alone to ask?”
“Dunno mate,” Ron shrugged, in one of his more cynical moments. “Is it even worth the trouble though? I mean, sure, girls are nice to look at, and they smell nice, but they’re all blooming mad - even Hermione’s gone barmy this year!”
“I suppose,” Neville muttered, not sure who Ron was trying to convince more, himself or Neville.
“...Still,” said Ron, apparently shifting into a more hopeful phase as he eyeballed an exceptionally pretty blonde Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass, whom he’d normally never look at twice if he could help it, simply on a matter of principle, “it wouldn’t be all bad I guess - except for the dancing bit! Who’re you thinking of trying it on with?”
“I was thinking maybe of asking Hannah Abbott, but I took too long working up the nerve - it’s too late now,” Neville sighed. “Some Ravenclaw bloke asked her - Anthony Goldstein, I think his name is.”
“Sorry Nev! That’s arsed,” said Ron absentmindedly as he stared, slack-jawed, at several older, curvaceous Beauxbatons girls who were dawdling near the entrance of the Great Hall, tittering as they in turn eyed Cedric Diggory.
Ron was so distracted that he didn’t hear when someone called out his name. Neville, who had momentarily been engrossed by the buxom figures as well, finally heard when the voice called out a third time, and nudged him.
“Oi... Ron!”
Ron swiveled around, vaguely annoyed to have his ogling interrupted. He stiffened slightly when he saw who it was, still not entirely sure how he felt about things - not sure that he was ready yet - maybe if he had a date of his own - perhaps one of those Beauxbatons...
“Oh... Hi Harry! What’s up?” he asked, trying his best to sound casual, his eyes briefly flickering towards Harry’s girlfriend.
“Viktor... Er... Krum that is,” Harry began, looking a bit awkward himself, “he and I are going to chase a Snitch around the Pitch for a bit...”
Ron goggled at Harry, mouth agape.
“Are you mental?” he gasped. “It’s practically a blizzard out there.”
“Er... yeah, I know,” said Harry, grinning. “It’s normal weather for Krum though - Durmstrang is somewhere in Norway, north of the Arctic Circle, according to him. I, er, just thought you might like to come and watch - get a chance to meet him. I know what Sirius said, but Krum’s alright really - you’d like him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really!” Harry nodded, then glanced at Neville. “You’re invited too, Neville.”
A surge of excitement welled up inside Ron, then crashed against the shoals of his envy, and something else, something even more painful. For a moment, the idea of Harry being chums with Viktor Krum felt like a stab in his gut. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that Harry was offering him, Ron, a chance to meet Krum and make friends too... Finally, Ron’s excitement won out.
“Yeah! Alright Harry, that sounds smashing!” said Ron eagerly. “How about it Neville, you coming too?” he asked his other friend.
“Er... yeah! Okay!” Neville squeaked, his face lighting up.
Neville couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t dreaming, having missed the World Cup on account of the fact that his Gran thought it a boorish activity. He wasn’t the ultimate Krum fan that Ron was, but the notion that he’d finally get a chance to see the world’s best (and youngest in history) Professional Seeker, in action, wasn’t lost on Neville.
As it turned out, a few others had apparently been invited to watch as well. Ginny, and Parvati and Lavender were already bundled up in coats and scarves and waiting in the stands, whispering and giggling; a young Ravenclaw girl with big dreamy looking eyes and dirty blonde hair was sitting next to Ginny too. Lavender looked especially pleased with herself about something.
Shortly after Neville and Ron took seats, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan showed up, followed moments later by Seamus and Dean, then Katie Bell, Alicia, and Angelina Johnson.
The Snitch was released. Harry and Viktor waited a few minutes for it to zip into the air and lose itself in the thickly falling flurries of snow, then they kicked off, soaring up above the stands and swooping around the goal posts.
The news that Harry Potter and Viktor Krum were flying around the Quidditch Pitch together had clearly started spreading through Hogwarts like a wildfire, as students from other Houses braved the weather and the stands began to fill.

~o0o~
“What? Potter and Krum? No way!” Draco scoffed at his disheveled Housemate who was brushing snow from his shoulders onto the green and silver rug in the Slytherin common room. “You sure you weren’t seeing things - it’s been practically whiteout conditions all day.”
“They’re out there right now,” said Theodore Nott, “Come back with me and see for yourself.”
“Probably a challenge match,” Draco snorted, standing up. “Why else would Krum want to hang out with Potter?”
“Dunno about that.” Theo shrugged as he followed Draco back to their dorm so that Draco could get his coat. “I saw them chatting in the courtyard yesterday after classes let out for the week - they looked pretty chummy to me. Potter’s pet mudblood was there and some other Gryffindor bints too - they were all laughing it up about something.”
Ten minutes later, after wading through the snowdrifts piling around the castle, Draco stood on a bluff overlooking the Quidditch Pitch with Theo. Retrieving his Omnioculars from his coat pocket, Draco peered through them and spun the dial. His face darkened as the two silhouettes on brooms, barely visible through the snow flurries from a distance, came into focus.
“Un-fucking-believable!” Draco swore, growing angrier by the minute at the Durmstrang student’s betrayal. “I’ll have to tell father about this,” he muttered.
“See? What’d I tell you?” said Theo, smirking slightly at Draco’s familiar refrain.

~o0o~
Harry was in his element when he was flying, and he had flown in more than enough bad weather to put on a good showing. By the time he and Viktor decided to call it quits, they had both managed to catch the Snitch once each. Grinning, his cheeks red from the biting cold, Harry climbed off his broom, sinking into the white powdery drifts on the lawn of the pitch.
“You are most excellent flyer, Harry,” said Viktor as he and Harry strode toward the edge of the pitch. “And zat Wronski Feint vos very nice manoeuvre...”
“I learned it from watching you at the World Cup,” Harry fairly pointed out.
“Ah! I see! I may regret zat some day, should ve ever meet professionally,” Viktor chuckled.
As Harry drew closer to the stands, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and the rest of his friends were waiting, some of them very excited to meet Viktor Krum for the first time - though at least two of their fellow Gryffindors had met him more than once already. Viktor caught sight of the bouncy girl with wavy golden hair spilling out from under the hood of her parka as she leapt up and down next to the girl with long dark hair.
“By ze vay, I am liking Laffender very much! She has much joy. Please, you can thank Her-my-o-nee for me for introduction?”
“Yeah, of course. No problem, Viktor,” said Harry, breaking into another grin.

~o0o~
Sunday was the last Hogsmeade Day of the term, the last chance to shop for presents before Christmas without resorting to Owl Order, and Hermione had decided that she and Harry could afford to take some time away from studying for a visit. Harry thought it might be good practice, a test run for a date with Hermione, and attacked his hair with a wet comb, uselessly trying to make it stay flat and straight in the right places.
Thankfully the snowstorm had largely come to an end, and only a few light flakes swirled from the pearly grey skies above. As usual, Hogsmeade was as pretty as a Victorian Christmas painting at winter, lampposts decorated with Holly Wreaths, windowpanes crisscrossed with webs of frost, glittering icicles hanging from eaves, and thatched roofs covered with snow, looking like gingerbread houses.
Harry reckoned any date with Hermione in town ought to include a lengthy visit to a bookstore or library, and made Tomes and Scrolls their first stop. He was pleased to see he was right on the mark when Hermione beamed at him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. When Hermione disappeared down one of the aisles, Harry took the opportunity to purchase a book she had peered at longingly, and a book he knew that Ron would read as well.
After the usual tour through the village, with stops in Zonko’s and Honeydukes, Harry’s only quandary was where to eat lunch. He slowed as they neared Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop, and was relieved to no end when the little crinkle between Hermione’s eyebrows indicated her distaste. He sped up and made a beeline for the Three Broomsticks.
They sat in a cozy booth near the fire, plates in front of them piled with bangers and mash, drinking frothy butterbeers from mugs. The day was almost perfect - it would have been totally perfect save for one little event. Hermione, giggling at Harry’s foamy butterbeer moustache, risked a proper kiss, believing their booth to be secluded enough from general viewing.
The flash of a camera bulb went off. Harry groaned and Hermione turned livid to see that Rita Skeeter and her cameraman had sneakily ensconced themselves at a table nearby, behind a leafy ficus. A little smirk crossed Rita’s scarlet lips as she stood up and beckoned her cameraman. Harry and Hermione glowered at their backsides as they departed from the tavern.
“She just can’t leave us alone,” Hermione muttered angrily. “As if there’s nothing better to report on.”
“Could’ve been worse though, I suppose,” Harry sighed. “Imagine if we’d never got together and you’d come here with Viktor instead. Skeeter would’ve turned us all into some sort of ridiculous love triangle. That would’ve been horrible.”
“That’s true,” Hermione agreed, unable to help a little giggle at the idea. “Other than a little minor embarrassment, I don’t really see how she could do much harm with a picture of a little kiss,” she added with a shake of her head.

~o0o~
The last week before the term came to an end flew by. Fortunately (?) the Blast-Ended Skrewts were now too dangerous to work with, so the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson became an excuse to play in the snow and chat with Hagrid, swapping war stories about aggravating encounters with Rita Skeeter.
Some of the other teachers lightened up a bit as well. Flitwick organised a game involving colour charms with a prize for the best work, and everyone had a good laugh as students ended up with orange polka dots on green skin, or purple stripes on yellow, and a myriad of other colour and shape combinations adorning their features.
Hermione almost won when she turned Harry crimson and gold, patterned in the shape of Phoenix feathers. Harry barely edged her out, painting Hermione’s skin with kaleidoscopic swirls of colour, every hue of the rainbow, and silvery sparkles sprinkled in for good measure.
Other teachers were far less inclined to let students mess around or play frivolous games. Professors McGonagall and Snape kept the students’ noses to the grindstone, and Moody would no more let students skive off than he would burst into a love song and shower everyone with rose petals.
Though Harry was beginning to wonder if something was going on with Moody, when he spied Bartemious Crouch on the Marauder’s Map in either Moody’s office, or his quarters, several times when he was checking for unused classrooms unoccupied by students getting up to the sorts of things he had been starting to think about a lot lately himself.
“There’s something weird going on, Hermione,” said Harry, the third time he spotted Crouch on the Map in as many days. “Why’s he hanging out at Hogwarts when there’s no Task happening? ... and in Moody’s office or quarters when Moody isn’t there?”
“Perhaps he’s meeting with Moody to go over security at Hogwarts during the tournament, given recent events at the World Cup,” Hermione suggested. “They are both ex-Aurors after all. And he could just be waiting for Moody to return from somewhere else on Hogwarts’ grounds the times we’re looking at the Map.”
“I suppose,” Harry muttered uncertainly. “That does actually sort of make sense...”
“Anyway,” Hermione interjected primly, trying to get Harry to focus, “you still need to work on your waltzing, Harry. Why don’t you put the Map down for now - you can keep an eye on it later.”
“What? Don’t you like squashed toes then?” Harry retorted, wearing a cheeky expression as he put the Map aside.
“Actually, I don’t really mind at all, as long as they’re not my toes,” Hermione quipped back, raising her eyebrows. Harry chortled.
“Alright, I really don’t want to look like an idiot out there,” he said. “It just feels weird, moving in three step rhythms when I’ve got two feet.”
“It does take a bit of getting used to at first,” Hermione admitted. “But you’re brilliant at flying, you’ve got exceptional hand-eye coordination - which is why you’re so good at spellwork too - and you’re almost better at swimming than me already. You’re obviously a natural at physical activities Harry! Once you get the hang of this, you’ll probably be better than nearly everyone else on the dancefloor.”
Harry was a bit startled at Hermione’s proclamation, not to mention extremely chuffed. Feeling a bit bolder than usual, as his feet began somehow moving of their own accord in time to the waltz on the little Wizard Wireless which Hermione had been bringing to the lessons, Harry leaned in for a kiss. It was the steamiest kiss he had given Hermione yet in the past couple of weeks as he trailed his lips to nuzzle Hermione’s neck.
Hermione giggled. “That tickles Harry. ... And that’s not exactly what I meant by physical activities.”
“Am I doing it wrong then?” Harry asked sincerely. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” Hermione shook her bushy head, peering back into his earnest green orbs, her breath quickening, “You’re doing it perfectly!”
AN:
@ BdwMedic: Thanks again! ... :-)
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise