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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 123887 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Boxing Day

Dumbledore’s keen ability to accurately guess what was going on at Hogwarts wasn’t guaranteed, as evidenced by the exposure of Barty Crouch Junior, but Harry decided it was still pretty remarkable when he and Hermione found Fred and George’s after-party still going strong, despite the late hour (which was nearing two am).
“The Champion and his Lady-in-Waiting have arrived,” Fred announced gleefully over the loud music blaring from the horn of the old fashioned record player as he gave an exaggerated, sweeping bow, “deigning to grace their subjects with their presence.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry snorted mirthfully, shaking his head.
“What say ye my liege and lady?” George called out, following the lead of his twin. “Dost thou care to share a libation with the peasants?”
He gestured towards a table festooned with a legion of bottles, mostly butterbeers, but there were a number of champagne bottles - clearly nicked from the Yule Ball - and a smattering of smaller bottles of stronger stuff, including red-currant-rum and firewhiskey (which the prefects were pretending didn’t exist).
Hermione raised her eyebrows at the rum and the firewhiskey, but having imbibed a few sips of “stronger stuff” with the headmaster, she knew she couldn’t really say anything without seeming a complete hypocrite. She glanced at Harry and was pleased to see him shaking his head.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks!” said Harry. “I had a few glasses of champagne earlier and a brandy with Dumbledore - that was plenty. I don’t want to get completely pissed.”
“Probably for the best,” Fred chortled. “You don’t want to end up like the Three Musketeers...”
“You should’ve seen them,” George guffawed, “Ron, Neville, and Seamus are totally sauced. They’d give Uncle Bilius a run for his money.”
“Uncle Bilius?” Hermione frowned thoughtfully; the name seemed familiar. “Isn’t he the one who supposedly died twenty four hours after seeing a ‘Grim’?”
“Is that what Ron told you?” George snorted. “The way I heard it he snuffed it after tossing back one too many at the pub and tripping over his neighbour’s dog - just happened to be a black labrador. He hit his head, and didn’t go to St Mungo’s, thinking he was alright. ... By the time one of the cousins he’d been drinking with checked on him the next evening, it was too late.”
“Shame really,” said Fred wistfully, “He was the life of the party. He’d down a bottle of firewhiskey, whip up his robes, and pull bouquets of flowers out of his arse. ... He’d’ve been alright if he’d just gone to a Healer to check his noggin.”
“Hmm... Sounds like an object lesson in not over-indulging to me,” Hermione proffered.
Fred shrugged.
Harry couldn’t help but agree with Hermione. It was one thing to get pleasantly tipsy, but he’d been on the receiving end of Aunt Marge’s vicious drunken tirades too many times to see much point in getting sloshed - that was usually when she started complaining about him, or whacking him with her walking stick.
“Anyway, I think I’m off to bed,” said Harry, “I’m bloody knackered - been up since five thirty. But don’t stop your after-party on my account,” he added with a half-smile.
“Don’t worry! We won’t,” said George, grinning. “‘Night then, Harry.”
After saying good night to Fred too, Harry walked Hermione to the foot of the stairs which led to the girls’ dormitories. Hermione smiled at Harry, just a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“I had a lovely time today, Harry, despite how it ended. At least Voldemort’s plans have been thwarted...”
“...for now,” Harry interjected. Hermione nodded.
“I know. But we’ll get through it, Harry - together. We always have...” Hermione thought she saw a glimmer of something in Harry’s eye - guilt, or worry, she wasn’t sure - but then it faded.
“Yeah, we will,” said Harry quietly, taking Hermione’s hand.
His eyes flickered at the rest of the busy common room as he wondered if it was dark enough. Hermione made the decision for the both of them, reckoning everyone else was too distracted to pay attention, and drew Harry closer for a proper kiss. The noise of the party faded as their arms encircled one another, and for a moment they were the only two people in the world. When the kiss finally ended, Hermione was pleased to see Harry looking cheerfully dazed again.
“Good night Harry. See you tomorrow,” she murmured before turning and climbing up the stairs.
Harry watched Hermione for a moment, then made his way to the other side of the common room and up the stairs to his own dorm. Upon entering, Harry was briefly taken aback, his eyebrows shooting up. He rubbed his crinkled forehead, torn between feeling amused and mildly embarrassed for Ron and Seamus.
Only Neville seemed to have managed to climb into his bed properly and pull up the covers. Seamus was completely starkers, save for a sock dangling from one foot, and lying face down on top of his bedclothes, his pyjamas still in one hand and his clothes strewn across the floor.
Ron wasn’t in much better shape, clad only in his boxers - barely, as he had apparently passed out before he’d got them past the top of his thighs, exposing his bum - sprawled across his bed, pyjamas beside him, and drooling into his pillow. His clothes were also messily scattered across the carpet. Shaking his head and smirking slightly, Harry drew the curtains around Ron’s bed and Seamus’s bed to save them all any further embarrassment when they woke the next morning...

~o0o~
Dumbledore couldn’t recall such an eventful Boxing Day morning in recent history. He stirred a spoonful of honey and squeezed a slice of lemon into his steaming cup of Earl Grey as he eyed his deputy headmistress who was adding a splash of milk and a sugar cube to her own tea.
They both sipped their teas in silence, listening to the crackling of the flames in the hearth and Fawkes ruffling his feathers. Finally, Minerva McGonagall broke the quietude.
“Well, this is quite the to do, Albus! Voldemort may be foiled for now, but how long until he crafts another mad scheme to come after Mr Potter?”
“That is indeed a good question, Minerva. There is no clear answer to that. Though we can at least be thankful that Cornelius has seen reason. He cannot deny that Voldemort has returned, as I feared he might. The evidence presented by Amelia and Kingsley after their own thorough Veritaserum interrogation of Barty Crouch Junior, and the confirmation from the Senior Crouch was far too convincing for Cornelius to ignore.
“And given the soft spot Cornelius has for Harry Potter, his drifting allegiances have now been pulled firmly back into our orbit. I had little trouble convincing him that Lucius Malfoy is also a potential threat to Harry. Cornelius will now, I believe, be quite reticent to continue giving Lucius the time of day...”
“Yes, well, it’s the Senior Undersecretary who most concerns me,” said McGonagall pointedly. “I don’t trust her, and she still has Cornelius’s ear.”
“Quite,” Dumbledore agreed. “Dolores Umbridge certainly bears keeping an eye on. In any case, in regards to Voldemort, I have put the Order on high alert, and Amelia has agreed to station some Aurors at Hogwarts. Kingsley will be joining us of course, and he and Alastor have made some recommendations of those who are less inclined to be swayed by Scrimgeour’s perspective.
“There is one in particular who should make a suitable escort for Harry - Alastor and Kingsley both believe she is a good candidate for recruitment into the Order. ... Now, on to other matters. ... Minerva, I confess, I am in a quandary regarding several problems which concern Harry, and I believe it is long past time to confide in you, and seek your counsel. I feel I also owe you an apology - there are a number of things I have kept from you over the years...”
“You don’t say,” McGonagall snorted. “Perhaps you can start with why you really left Potter with those awful people...”
Dumbledore sighed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Indeed, that is a good place to begin...”
A knock at the door of the headmaster’s office startled McGonagall; she pursed her lips and frowned in frustration. Of course there would be an interruption just as she was about to get some real answers for a change.
“Please feel free to enter,” called out Dumbledore, “the door is unlocked.”
The door creaked open and a girl with pink spiky hair who barely appeared to be sixteen or seventeen poked her head in, looking a bit nervous.
“Oh, sorry Professor Dumbledore, sir. I didn’t know you had company - Shacklebolt told me you ‘ad a special assignment for me and to get over here as soon as possible. Hi Professor McGonagall.”
“Ah, thank you for coming Auror Tonks, do come in,” said Dumbledore warmly, his eyes twinkling. “My apologies for drawing you away from your family this holiday season. But yes, this assignment is indeed regarding a matter of some urgency...”

~o0o~
It was almost noon before Seamus and Ron peeked out through their curtains, their faces red with embarrassment, both thankful there was nobody else in the dormitory. They both winced when the light hit their eyes.
“Er... What happened last night, Seamus?” Ron squeaked. “Are you, er...”
“Starkers mate,” said Seamus, “You too?”
Ron nodded, then wished he hadn’t when his head throbbed painfully.
“D’you think anyone saw us?” he asked.
“S’pose so,” Seamus mumbled as he massaged his sore temples. “Someone must’ve shut our curtains. Either Harry or Dean, or both, I guess.”
Ron groaned, then glanced over at Neville’s unoccupied bed and frowned, hoping to have him to share the embarrassment with as well.
“How did Nev manage to survive?” he grumbled.
“Smaller sips than us, I reckon,” said Seamus. “He was still pretty smashed though, just not as bad as us.”
“Speaking of which, my head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Hangover mate! Me Da gets ‘em all the time - at least once a week. Reckon Pomfrey will have somethin’ for the headache...”
Ron and Seamus dragged on some clean clothes, both moaning in pain when they stood up to find them. Then the haggard looking pair shuffled off to the hospital wing, hoping Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t ask too many questions. They both spotted curtains pulled around one of the hospital beds in the ward.
“Wonder who else is in here?” Ron muttered.
“Probably Harry,” said Seamus, grinning as much as his aching head would allow. “He’s always in here for something or other.”
Madam Pomfrey peered out through the doorway of her office to see who the new arrivals were. She raised her eyebrows, giving them both a shrewd look.
“Mr Weasley, Finnegan, I hope you’re not bothering my patient,” she said brusquely.
“Who’s in there?” asked Ron, burning with curiosity.
“Never you mind for now,” said Pomfrey. “What can I do for you two?”
“Er... headaches,” said Seamus shiftily.
“I see. And the two of you both have headaches then,” The hint of a smirk hovered at the corner of Pomfrey’s lips. “Should I be worried that you have something contagious?”
“NO!” Ron blurted out, his eyes widening. “Just... er... erm...”
“Hmm... ‘Er’ can be quite dangerous if you’re not careful,” Pomfrey interjected. “Especially at your age. Let this be a lesson boys. Now wait right here and I’ll find some pain potions for you - and you’ll stay away from my other patient if you know what’s good for you.”
Ron and Seamus both gulped and stayed rooted in one spot while they waited, neither wishing to test Pomfrey’s temper. Moments later she returned, a satisfied look in her eye to see that they hadn’t moved. Pomfrey handed each groggy looking boy a vial.
“Right! Now down the hatch,” she said, watching as they downed the contents of their vials. “Very good! I strongly suggest you make sure to drink lots of water to flush your systems and rehydrate. ‘Er’ can be quite toxic in high quantities, and dehydrates the body - as Longbottom found out the hard way too ... Now shoo, so my other patient can have some peace and quiet.”
Feeling much better, Ron and Seamus made their way to the Great Hall to discover that lunch was almost over and that many of the other students had departed to play in the snow or lounge in their common rooms. But Harry and Hermione were still there chatting to Fleur Delacour and a little girl who looked much like her and much too young to be a student.
Fleur glanced up to see Ron and Seamus approaching and smirked. Harry and Hermione turned to see who she was looking at.
“Hi guys!” said Harry, grinning.
“Good afternoon Ron, Seamus,” said Hermione teasingly, her eyebrows raised.
“Up so late - Why, I wonder?” said Fleur with a smirk and a look which suggested a rhetorical question. “Ze morning ees gone.” She noticed them peering questioningly at the young girl beside her. “My seester, Gabrielle. She and Maman - zey visit for the holidays - weel be here through New Year.”
Fleur glanced at Harry and Hermione and rose gracefully from her seat. “Thank you! Gabrielle ees mos’ excited to meet you, but I theenk we go outside now, play in ze snow. Per’aps we see you again later.”
“Yeah, of course Fleur!” Harry smiled at Fleur’s younger sister. “You’re welcome to join us any time.”
“It was nice to meet you, Gabrielle,” Hermione beamed.
“Thank you, ‘Arry, ‘Ermione. Ees vairy nice meeting you also,” squeaked Gabrielle, blushing shyly as she stood up and took her sister’s hand.
As the Delacour sisters departed, Harry and Hermione waited patiently for Ron and Seamus to say something, as the latecomers were hastily piling bangers and mash on their plates before it vanished.
“So, Harry,” Ron tentatively began, his voice low, eyes darting around nervously, “Did you, er... see anything last night?”
“Whatever do you mean, Ron?” asked Harry, his face a picture of innocence. But Hermione got right to the point.
“You’re lucky Harry found you, you know!” she said with falsely prim tone, the look in her eye and the upward twitch at the corners of lips giving her away. “If Dean had gone upstairs first, I expect you wouldn’t hear the end of it from half the school - or at the very least from your brothers.”
“Harry told you?” Ron shot a wounded expression at his best friend. Seamus didn’t seem to care, being more concerned about his empty stomach as he dug into his lunch.
“I tell Hermione everything,” Harry retorted. “She’s my girlfriend. Besides, it’s perfectly safe, Hermione’s your friend - you know she wouldn’t say anything to anyone else.”
“Yeah, that’s true enough I suppose,” Ron agreed, shrugging as he forked a banger. “Hermione’s right anyway. Dean probably would’ve been laughing it up with Fred and George right now if he’d spotted us.”
“Anyway, that’s not really what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Harry, as eagerness crept in his voice. “We’ve got loads to tell you about last night. If you hadn’t been completely blotto, I would have told you already - you might have even been in on it, in fact...”
“Jusht get t’th’point, Harry,” Ron grumped through a mouthful of mashed potato and banger, feeling a bit cross that he’d apparently missed out on something. Hermione looked a bit green as a few bits of mash flew from his mouth.
“You know the Marauder’s Map,” Harry began, “I’ve been checking it out lately, and I saw something weird on it a few times, but I wasn’t sure what was really going on. Anyway, last night, I finally figured it out when I brought the Map to the Yule Ball - Professor Moody wasn’t really Moody... he was Barty Crouch Junior, Barty Crouch’s son...”
As Harry launched into his explanation, with Hermione interjecting at intervals, they told Ron the whole story - minus Barty Crouch Senior’s involvement in his son’s escape from Azkaban which Dumbledore had asked them to refrain from discussing with anyone, having decided Crouch Senior had been punished enough for his mistake. Ron was rapt as he shoveled his lunch into his mouth at a rapid clip; even Seamus was listening intently.
“Blimey!” gasped Ron, when Harry and Hermione finished telling him everything. “Another bloody maniac involved with You-Know-Who was out to get you then.”
“Yes,” said Hermione, in a mildly haughty tone. “Which is why you shouldn’t have been so dismissive about Moody’s supposed paranoia about Dark Wizards when he was teaching us all about the Unforgivable Curses. Well, the fake Moody’s alleged ‘paranoia’ anyway - he apparently did a good enough impression of the real Moody to even fool Dumbledore.
“Either way, he was absolutely right! After all, you know Vol...”
“Don’t say it,” hissed Ron.
Harry struggled not roll his eyes, but Hermione rolled hers.
“Fine! You-Know-Who then,” she snapped. “Anyway, you know he and Wormtail are back in Britain, because Harry told us all about his vision. And apparently you forgot all about the Death Eaters terrorising everyone at the World Cup!”
Ron had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Yeah, I guess that was a bit stupid of me. I did forget about the mayhem at the World Cup actually.”
Seamus shook his head and chortled. “How’d you manage that, Ron? You were right in the middle of it, weren’t ye? I’ll never forget that night - our tent was burnt to the ground, and me da was with me and Mum - special allowance for muggles married t'wizards, you know. We were just lucky those mad blokes in the masks didn’ know me da’s a muggle or they’d’ve probably cursed him.”
“Oh!” said Ron seriously, “You really are lucky then.”
“I’ll say!” Seamus sighed, suddenly serious himself. Then he dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “Anyway, I’m off to find Dean - see what he’s up to. Is it okay if I tell ‘im what’s goin’ on?” he asked Harry.
“I don’t see why not, really,” Harry replied, shrugging. “It’s not really going to be a big secret when the real Moody starts teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. And the Ministry probably knows all about it by now. Dumbledore told us the Aurors would be taking Crouch Junior into custody this morning. ... Just don’t tell anyone about my Map, or that Hermione and I were involved.”
“Righto! Cool! Thanks Harry,” said Seamus, looking a bit excited at having an amazing tale to tell.
“I think I’ll go find Neville and tell him too,” said Ron, looking just as eager as Seamus. “Unless you were planning on telling him,” he added, with a sort of pleading and hopeful expression.
Harry supposed Ron wanted to be one of the first to spread the news, and reckoned Ron should have his moment in the sun.
“No, that’s alright Ron! You can tell everyone if you want. Just remember to keep me and Hermione out of it.”
Ron beamed. “Thanks Harry! No problem!” Then Ron and Seamus dashed out of the Great Hall to tell everyone they knew.
“That was really sweet of you, Harry,” said Hermione when they were gone.
Harry grinned. “Well, thanks to you, I get Ron a bit better now. He needs the attention more than me. Anyway, I think I fancy a stroll in the snow myself. Maybe we can find a quiet spot away from everyone to just look at the lake and the mountains, and, erm...”
Hermione giggled. “That sounds very romantic, Harry.”
But just at that moment, a girl with spiky pink hair whom they had never seen before entered the Great Hall and peered around as if looking for someone. She grinned when she spotted Harry and Hermione.
“There you are! Been looking all over for you two...”
- 8
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- 10
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise