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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
- 5
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Countdown to Christmas

Upon returning to his seat at the staff table, Dumbledore couldn’t help but notice the Potion Master’s venomous glares at young Harry Potter; he sighed and glanced at the Deputy Headmistress to his left. Her own expression was taut, her lips pursed and brow creased with irritation. Her annoyance however, was not directed at Harry Potter - it was directed at the headmaster himself, and no small measure of her anger was directed at Severus as well.
As the feast appeared on the gold and silver platters adorning the table, and Dumbledore carved a slice of roast chicken for himself, he pondered his decision. Minerva would have no doubt preferred that her fourth year Gryffindors’ Potions homework had simply been cut down to a far more manageable size, and that the fourth year Slytherins had been given holiday homework as well.
That would have certainly been an equitable arrangement, but it had occurred to Dumbledore after listening to Miss Granger repeat Draco Malfoy’s taunts at Minerva’s prodding, that this holiday season was uniquely special, warranting the canceling of all homework assignments. Hosting guests for the Triwizard Tournament didn’t happen every year after all.
It had pleased the headmaster to no end to bear witness from his tower to Harry Potter’s burgeoning friendship with Viktor Krum as the pair flew around the Quidditch Pitch together nearly a week ago. Just as it pleased him to see the Delacour girl forging bonds of friendship with Granger and Harry. It was a hopeful sign in these troubling times.
Harry’s vision during the summer of Voldemort’s return to Britain with Pettigrew boded ill for the future. There could be no doubt that the self-appointed “Dark Lord” was seeking another means to regain a human form, and would yet again attempt to kill the boy who had defeated him three times already, all in his bid to restore a Pureblood Supremacist Order to wizarding Britain, under his iron rule.
If Harry’s strength of character and inestimably kind nature proved anything, it was that the Prophecy - dubious though the business of Prophecies may be - held great truth to it: Harry had the power within himself to defeat Voldemort - a power which was beyond Voldemort’s ken. The only real quandary was what to do about the connection between Harry and Voldemort - a connection which had disturbing implications.
It was bad enough that Dumbledore had yet to devise a means of breaking that connection, thus freeing Harry to flourish and allow his prodigious abilities - as embodied by the boy’s remarkable Patronus - to grow to their fullest potential, but now Dumbledore had to contend with questioning the trust he had placed in Severus as well.
Which was stronger, Severus’s commitment to protecting the life of the child of the only woman Severus had ever cared for, or his hate for the man whom that woman had married and the boy she had borne? Trust did not come easy to Dumbledore, but he had trusted Severus’s desire for vengeance against the ‘Dark Lord’ in her name.
And that trust was becoming increasingly shaken with every act of cruelty waged against Harry and Harry’s friends.
His eyes once again flickering towards his deputy headmistress, who was now digging into a lamb chop and potatoes, Dumbledore considered seeking her counsel and entrusting her with his darkest secrets. There was no question she had earned that trust in spades.
When Minerva had burst into the headmaster’s office with Hermione Granger in tow, her fury at Severus’s blatant disregard for protocol and his utter lack of any commitment to fairness - was only matched by her enormous concern for Harry’s safety and well-being. Dumbledore had been forced to concede that Severus had overstepped his boundaries yet again when it came to Harry Potter.
Following his impromptu meeting with Minerva and Miss Granger, Dumbledore had summoned Severus to his office, and the outcome of that conversation had left him unsettled. Severus had not taken his dressing down well.
“You disappoint me, Severus,” the headmaster had sighed, “...yet again. After last year, I had hoped for better...”
“Better?” The contempt in Severus’s tone was poorly hidden, “After Potter and his little friends set Black free? ... Did you really think...?”
“I would have hoped, that my word would be enough Severus,” Dumbledore interjected. “As I explained at the time, Sirius Black was innocent - Pettigrew was the traitor...”
“Based entirely on the word of three insolent children and Black’s partner in crime, Lupin,” Severus snarled.
“Three children whose moral integrity is unassailable,” Dumbledore countered. “As is Remus Lupin’s.”
“Integrity? Don’t make me laugh. Potter and his friends are liars and thieves. Troublemakers all - just like James Potter and his little gang! They think themselves above the rules... Potter, Weasley, and Granger attacked me...”
“Do you really want to go there?” said Dumbledore coldly. “You were hardly an innocent yourself, Severus, in your days as student. How long did you stalk Remus, hoping to expose his secret, knowing I would have no choice but to expel him if you did? How many times did you attempt to get past the Whomping Willow of your own accord before Black revealed the secret of gaining entrance to you?
“...Which he did out of sheer frustration with your attempts to expose Remus’s condition to the world I would hasten to add. ... And shall I also bring up the many complaints raised by others against you and your compatriots, Severus?
“Assaulting and verbally abusing muggleborns was quite the pastime for you and your friends, was it not? ... Practice, I would wager, for your post-Hogwarts career as a Death Eater. Do not think to convince me that you hold any moral high ground, in casting aspersions against James Potter, Black, and Lupin. You do not...”
“I switched sides...” Severus growled. “I have helped you protect the Potters’ son ever since...”
“For which I am most grateful,” Dumbledore acknowledged. “But that was only after several years of aiding and abetting the mass-murder and torture of innocents. And I have oft considered the question of whether you would have switched sides, had Lily Potter never been targeted by Voldemort...”
Dumbledore paused, raising his bushy white eyebrows and noting that Severus remained silent on that score.
“In any case,” the headmaster went on, his unease growing, “as I was saying, I am very grateful for the fact that you have kept to the Letter of your promise in helping me protect Harry. However I am very disappointed that you have not kept to the Spirit of your promise. ... The lens through which you see Harry is grotesquely distorted, but that is your business - I can do little about that. Harry’s health and well-being however, is both of our business’s. How many times must I step in when you treat him unfairly, Severus...?”
“You know why I must,” Severus interjected heatedly, his sallow cheeks flushing. “Am I not your spy? Lucius Malfoy has certain expectations...”
But Dumbledore was having none of it, and interrupted Severus in turn. “What Lucius Malfoy expects is for you to favour his son - to look the other way and disregard young Draco’s insubordination and infractions - to mark up Draco’s scores when they slide down - and to grant Draco privileges for which he is quite undeserving. These I allow, no matter how painful it is for me to do so, in order for you to maintain your status as Lucius Malfoy’s friend and confidante.
“However, do you really expect me to believe that your constant attempts to harass Harry, and your attempts to fail him, or contrive reasons for his expulsion, are part of the facade you maintain to placate Lucius Malfoy? ... Of course not!
“This is just another excuse to cover for your hate of James Potter, which you have already openly admitted to projecting upon his son. Lucius must surely know that reprisals against Potter for slights against Draco - whether imagined or deservedly real - are off the table as long as I am headmaster.
“Yet still you carry out Lucius’s hopeful requests to retaliate against Harry on Draco’s behalf without hesitation - not for him, but for yourself. You are so used to seeking reprisal against Harry for what you believe are sins bequeathed by his father, that you have no compunction against doing the same at the behest of Lucius and Draco.
“That ends today Severus! No longer will you unfairly mark down Harry’s exam scores, as you attempted to do at the end of last year before I stepped in and reversed them. And no longer will you differentiate between Slytherin and Gryffindor in terms of how much homework you dole out, as you did today.
“From now on, if you believe that any particular individual student requires extra work to maintain a reasonable standard in your class - especially if it is Harry Potter or one of his friends - you will confer with me first. I will also henceforth be monitoring the points deductions and detentions you hand out, just to be certain you are not abusing your power in that regard as well. Is this understood?”
Severus had glowered mutinously, his dark eyes glittering, then he slowly nodded.
“Yes Headmaster, of course!” he said, as evenly as possible, looking sulky. “I will do as you ask.”
Dumbledore had eyed his Potions Professor keenly, then nodded in return.
“Very good Severus! I will, of course, be making adjustments regarding the holiday homework you handed out to some, but not others. And if Lucius questions you on this matter, or tasks you with future reprisals against Harry, you will inform him that I simply won’t allow it, as you should have done before. ... Lucius will understand. Favouring Harry Potter is what he expects of me after all!”
Severus had sat there a moment before taking Dumbledore’s pointed expression as a dismissal. It was clear that his orders to treat Harry Potter with a modicum of respect had been taken under duress, and Dumbledore wondered for how long he could hope to trust Severus’s feelings of guilt over the death of Lily Potter, and his antipathy towards Voldemort, to win out. Could he truly be trusted to be spy once again, should the “Dark Lord” reconstitute himself, or was it too dangerous?
Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore surreptitiously regarded his Deputy Headmistress now, as they ate dinner; he had no such concerns about her. Minerva’s devotion to the safety of Harry Potter - indeed to the safety of all students, regardless of House - was surely more trustworthy than a desire for redemption and vengeance. Minerva could not be a spy of course, but perhaps it was time that she learned of Severus’s role in things - and perhaps be informed of Dumbledore’s other quandaries as well...

~o0o~
There was another popping sound in the Gryffindor common room, accompanied by chortles of laughter. Harry, who had been enjoying a game of wizard chess with Ron, grinned to see that another had fallen victim to one of Fred and George’s Canary Creams, no doubt hidden in the centre of a mince pie.
“Not again,” moaned Neville, who was now covered in yellow feathers.
“Ah, don’ worry about it, mate,” laughed his fellow feathered friend, Seamus, who had also eaten a mince pie. “It’s all in good fun, eh? ...an’ they’ll be gone soon enough.”
“That’s true,” Neville sighed. Then he let out a little chuckle and flapped his “wings.”
Hermione shook her head and gave him a little half-smile, having resigned herself to the situation. Nobody seemed to be coming to any harm from bursting into feather. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Harry, it’s almost time...”
“Oh, yeah, it is,” said Harry, “I’m going for a fly with Viktor, Ron - no Snitch this time. You coming? You can borrow a school broom and join us...”
“Yeah, sure,” Ron quickly agreed, his face lighting up.
The Christmas Holidays were in full swing now, everyone taking full advantage of Dumbledore’s proclamation of no holiday homework this year. The castle and its surrounds were filled with a frenzy of Festive activity while delicious smells wafted from the kitchens, and the professors had gone all out with the decorations. Peeves hid in suits of armour bedecked with red Father Christmas caps, belting out Christmas tunes with salty improvised lyrics at the top of his lungs.
Parties were held in common rooms, and wintry activities were held on the grounds. A number of students had taken up ice-skating on the parts of the lake with the thickest layers of ice close to the shore; snowball wars became increasingly hazardous as wands propelled the snowballs in ever greater volume and velocity. The snowmen, snow-forts, and ice-sculptures adorning the lawns grew more intricate daily.
And Fleur and Viktor weren’t the only ones to have started hanging out with Harry and Hermione and their friends. Cedric and Cho Chang had also joined in more than once. The only ones who seemed to be having less than a good time were a number of Slytherins, several in particular.
Infuriated to learn that Daphne Greengrass had accepted Zabini’s invitation to the Yule Ball, Draco had finally approached Pansy, despite the fact that she had refused to have her pug nose reshaped for him by a Healer her father knew.
“You must be joking!” snapped Pansy. “I’d rather go with Weasley - well, probably not Weasley, but Potter maybe. At least Potter knows how to treat a girl. He’s not obsessed with perfect looks, unlike you!”
“Potter?” snarled Draco, “You’d rather go with a blood-traitor than me, would you? Too bad for you he’s already got a Mudblood to take to the Ball. You’ll look pretty stupid at the Ball without a date...”
“For your information, I have a date!” Pansy hissed angrily. “I didn’t bother waiting around to see if you’d relent and choose me as a last resort! ... So we’ll see who shows up without one, won’t we?” she added with one final glare before turning on her heel and storming off to her dormitory.
“I’ll go to the Ball with you Draco,” said Millicent Bulstrode, leering at him hopefully. Draco gave her a glance, looking a bit green around the gills; then he marched off to the boys’ dormitory, cursing under his breath.
“Oi, I thought you were going with me,” said Goyle, frowning.
“Well, a girl can try and trade up, can’t she?” Millicent sniggered.
“S’pose so,” Goyle grunted, shrugging, knowing he was in no position to complain.

~o0o~
During the run up to Christmas Eve, Harry and Hermione slipped away from the others whenever they could for a bit of last minute dance practice. Upon returning to Gryffindor Tower after their sessions, which often ended with a bit of snogging, Harry found himself wishing more and more for a bit of privacy at nights to relieve the stirrings of his growing ardour; cold showers just weren’t cutting it.
Even with the curtains pulled around his bed, Harry was reluctant to give in to his need, afraid that he would be heard. Given Seamus’s hidden supply of magazines, Harry didn’t doubt that of all his dormmates, Seamus at least was taking care of his urges under cover of night. But Harry wasn’t Seamus, and he vowed to himself to look up privacy and silencing charms at his next opportunity.
It was mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, and just as he was considering seeing if the library was open while Hermione was busy doing something with Lavender and Parvati, there was a tap on the frosted over window of the fourth year boys’ dormitory. Harry opened the window, letting in a blast of cold air and a flurry of snow, pleased to see that Hedwig had made it back in the nick of time.
“Sorry Hedwig,” said Harry, as he untied the small parcel from his exhausted owl’s talons. “I know it’s been a bit of a rush for you - between delivering that letter for the Twins and picking this up for me. I’ll make it up to you - I promise.”
Harry found some owl treats for Hedwig and poured some water from the jug beside his bed into a glass for her.
“Merry Christmas Hedwig,” he said gratefully, stroking her feathers while she thirstily guzzled the water and nibbled the owl treats. “I hope she doesn’t think that I’ve gone mad,” Harry added, sounding a bit worried. “You do think she’ll like it, don't you?”
Hedwig lifted her beak and uttered a little hoot to reassure him. Then Harry carefully stashed the little package in the drawer of his nightstand with the Christmas Card for Hermione when Hedwig darted back out the window and flew off to the owlery for a good, long nap.
Satisfied that he was as ready as could be now for Christmas, Harry shut the window and put his charms books back in his trunk. Then he went back downstairs, wove through the crowded common room, past Seamus and Dean and Ron and Neville (who were all playing a game of four-way wizard checkers), slipped out through the portrait hole, and made his way to the library to look through the Advanced Charms books for a solution to his privacy problem.

~o0o~
Harry awoke with a start, his heart pounding. It was nearly pitch black, then he remembered his curtains were closed, and thanked his lucky stars that the silencing charm that he had found had worked perfectly last night. It felt really early though; something had woken him, but he wasn’t sure what.
He turned over in bed to reach through the curtains for his clock to see what time it was, and stared into two slightly luminescent, green tennis-ball sized orbs peering right back at him.
“Dobby!” Harry gasped, jerking back and nearly falling out of his bed. “Blimey! Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!”
“Dobby is very sorry Harry Potter, sir,” the anxious house-elf squeaked. “Dobby is taking Harry Potter’s extra present and his card for Missy Granger to put in her stocking, and then Dobby is coming back and bringing Harry Potter a present and wishing him a Merry Christmas sir!”
“How did you know I got Hermione an extra present?” Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Tis part of a house-elf’s magic,” said Dobby. “We is taking presents from givers and putting them in stockings and pillowcases of receivers during the night, and we is always knowing when there is last minute and extra presents.”
“Oh! Of course!” said Harry, feeling a bit silly. “You know, I never really thought about how the presents always ended up in our pillowcases and stockings. Anyway, I got you a present too, Dobby, it’s not much...”
Harry pulled back his curtain and retrieved the parcel he had been keeping in the drawer of his nightstand, and handed it to the stunned house-elf.
“Harry Potter is getting a present for Dobby?”
“Er... yeah,” said Harry as Dobby gleefully ripped into the wrapping, revealing a pair of purple and gold socks. “I got it during my Hogsmeade visit. I hope you like them.”
“Dobby loves them!” Dobby squealed. “Socks is Dobby’s most favourite clothes sir! How did Harry Potter know?”
“Er... lucky guess,” Harry grinned, pleased at his success. Then he reckoned he ought to open Dobby’s present for him. Harry chortled when a pair of woolen socks, one green with silver broomsticks, and the other red with gold snitches, fell out of the wrapping and rolled onto the bed.
“Wh...what’s going on?” grumbled a groggy voice the next bed over. “It’s not even light yet.”
“Just Dobby,” Harry told Ron. “He was bringing me a Christmas Present. It’s not even six yet though. You can go back to sleep.”
Reminded that it was Christmas Day, Ron bolted right up, wide awake and grinning. Christmas was the one day a year that Ron actually liked waking up early.
“Go back to sleep? No way! It’s Christmas,” said Ron excitedly. “Merry Christmas Dobby!”
“Thank you sir!” Dobby squeaked happily. “Merry Christmas to you too. Dobby would stay, but there is much work to be doing in kitchens, and Dobby still has a few more presents to deliver before other students is waking.” And on that note, Dobby vanished with a little pop...

~o0o~
Hermione stirred, yawning, when Crookshanks purred and butted his furry head under her chin. She blinked blearily, and saw that it was just after six thirty am. It wouldn’t even be light yet for at least two hours. But if she knew Ron and Harry, they would probably be up soon if they weren’t already. It was Christmas Day after all.
“Morning Crookshanks! Merry Christmas!” Hermione whispered, giving her cat a pet and a kiss on the head.
“That you Hermione?” murmured Lavender.
“Oh, you’re awake!” Hermione was surprised; she wasn’t used to Lavender waking up this early on a Sunday.
“I’ve been awake for half an hour,” Lavender said quietly, her voice tinged with excitement. “I love Christmas, but I didn’t want to wake anyone else... Parvati usually sleeps in till at least seven.”
“Who can sleep with all this whispering?” grumbled Parvati, throwing a pillow at Lavender. “Sounds like leaky balloon in here. Might as well wake up now and open our presents.”
Lavender giggled, then the other girls began stirring as well. Hermione crawled to the end of the bed in her nightie and grabbed her pillowcase, tipping it on her cover. There were numerous presents from her parents, including books and the usual assortment of sugar-free sweets. Those were made up for a bit by an assortment of sugar-loaded wizarding sweets sent by Hagrid, including Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Ice Mice, and Fizzing Whizbees.
There was also of course, the expected parcel from Mrs Weasley, including mince pies, nut brittle, and her traditional woolly jumper, green with a picture of a dragon on it this year. Hermione suddenly realised that Mrs Weasley must have taken Rita Skeeter’s assertion in the Daily Prophet that she and Harry were a couple seriously, and expected that Harry’s jumper would be exactly the same.
Hermione giggled at the idea that she and Harry would be that couple - the one with matching sweaters - much like her mum and dad in fact. Thinking of Harry, his was the next present she found. From its size and weight she knew it was a heavy tome.
First removing the silver bow and ribbon, and carefully peeling the scarlet, emerald, and gold paper, Hermione gasped to find the incredibly expensive book she had been drooling over in Tomes and Scrolls inside; a three hundred and fifty year old copy of Mr. William Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies: The Illuminated Wizarding Edition.
“Oh, Harry,” she murmured, running her finger along the gold embossed lettering, and taking a deep whiff of the aged burnt sienna coloured leather binding, “you shouldn’t have.”
Hermione opened the ancient book and turned the vellum pages, admiring the detailed moving illustration on the frontispiece fromA Midsummer Night’s Dream. She bit her lip and sighed, feeling guilty about Harry spending so much on her their first Christmas together. Wondering how well off Harry actually was, Hermione carefully placed the book on the nightstand next to her bed and opened Ron’s present, finding a box of Sugar Quills and a box of Licorice Wands.
Hermione’s stocking contained more sugar-less goodies from her parents, and some of Hagrid’s rock cakes. She was surprised to find another present from Harry tucked at the bottom. It was small, wrapped in purple and gold paper. For some reason her hands trembled slightly as she began unwrapping it.
The dormitory seemed very quiet all of a sudden; the squeaks of delight from the other girls as they unwrapped their presents went silent. Hermione bit her lip again, frowning as she peered at the black velvet jewellery box in her shaking hand.
“I can’t believe him,” Hermione muttered. “We’ve barely been together a month.”
“That’s from Harry?” asked Parvati. Hermione slowly nodded.
“Then you’ve really been together since First Year,” Parvati insisted, her limpid eyes widening earnestly. “It’s obvious he loves you to bits, even though it took him three and a half years to figure it out.”
Hermione’s features flickered pensively; Harry had said as much to her in his own way. And it was so like Harry to go all in, jumping in with both feet without looking once he’d made up his mind about something.
“Well go on then, open it,” said Lavender eagerly. “What’s wrong Hermione?”
“It... it’s just... too much! He’s spent so much on me already,” Hermione moaned. “That book on my nightstand - a muggle edition of that particular book would go for millions of pounds at auction. I saw it in the bookstore in the village, so I know it wasn’t that much in wizard money, but it was still several hundred galleons... roughly as much as a mid-range quality broomstick.
“And... and now this! ... Wh...what if it’s something else really expensive? I only got him a book about quidditch and some science fiction novels...”
“It’s not a competition Hermione,” Parvati pointed out.
Anguished, Hermione bit her lip. “That’s not really what I meant...”
“You do deserve it Hermione,” said Lavender perceptively. “You’ve always been there for him. You do deserve to be treated like a princess if Harry can actually afford it.”
“That’s just it, I don’t really know how much his parents left him. Most of his clothes are just cast-offs from his cousin. He almost never spends any money on himself, except for his school supplies. What if he’s spent more than he can really afford?”
“That’s for Harry to decide, isn’t it?” said Parvati.
“I... I suppose...” Hermione said hesitantly; she knew she was running out of excuses. Her final reticent thought was that she wasn’t sure that she was ready for anything that a ring might represent, but from the shape of the jewellery box, Hermione knew it wasn’t really a ring.
Drawing a deep breath, Hermione decided to simply roll with it, whatever it was. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Harry by not accepting his presents. Her fingers trembled as they undid the clasp and opened the black velvet box. She gasped at the exquisite contents - a matching set of shimmering pearl earrings and necklace. Hermione smiled through the tears suddenly blurring her vision, clasping a hand to her mouth.
“They’re gorgeous!” Lavender squealed, jumping up and down as the other girls in the dorm oohed and aahed.
“They’ll go perfectly with your gown and dress robes,” Parvati beamed. “Now you won’t need to borrow anything.”
AN:
@ BdwMedic: Thanks again! ... :-)
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise