Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the characters in this story.

Additionally, there are direct lines from 'The Polar Express' by Chris Van Allsburg and those are (obviously) not of my own creation, but rather leveraged to help tell this story because of the fondless I hold for the book and how it impacted my childhood. 3 If you have not read the book, I highly encourage you buy a copy this holiday season and read it!

*Written for Harmony & Co. Advent 2018*

Hermione slipped past Harry and through the open door to his bedroom, giving him a small smile in thanks. She'd been in here before, but it felt so different now. She couldn't help but notice all the small details. The filigree worn on the four poster bed that had previously belonged to his godfather, the rich burgundy comforter, the warmth from the fireplace lit across from his bed, or the way the room smelt exactly like Harry. Freshly mown grass, new parchment, spearmint toothpaste and the musk of a cologne he began wearing during fourth year. The combination of the scents caused the small flame in the bottom of her belly to roar higher until it licked at the base of her heart and began to ignite a dull ache between her thighs. Turning around, she let her feet drag across the wooden planks of his floor and watched as he carefully shut the door behind him once he had cleared the threshold into his room after her.

Harry leaned back on the heavy wooden door, emerald eyes drinking in the image of the witch before him. The nervousness he had felt boiling over as he lead her up there seemed to vanish, and instead he was now filled with strange confidence as he watched her lips part to exhale a shaky breath. Her gift long forgotten, it was obvious that they both clearly had only one thought in mind now that they were here alone.

Harry moved towards her first, letting the heavy silence between them lay bare as he reached to her and she came willingly into his arms. His mouth found hers with a hand at her cheek, his fingertips sinking into the side of her curls as he pulled her body tight to his. He had dreamed of this moment for as long as he could remember: pulling her into his arms, a shared kiss, the feeling of her heart thumping in time with his own. He had longed for it since fifth year, even if he had to lie to himself for all the years she had spent dating Ron.

Hermione's lips parted, allowing his tongue passage into her mouth, and when his hand on her hips slowly slipped beneath the hemline to her henley and pressed against her lower back, his index finger dipping just beneath the waistband of her sweats, an involuntary moan was pushed into Harry's eager mouth. Her own hands seemed to find a life of their own, forcing a path across his chest, fingers bending to the etching of the well-defined muscles that lay hidden beneath his shirt. She knew he had bulked up since school, but good lord it should be illegal to possess the amount of muscles she felt.

As his tongue swept against hers, beckoning her to deepen the kiss, Harry tilted his head to the left and began to slowly walk her back, his hips framing hers as they moved until he felt the resistance of her legs against the side of his bed. His hand on her cheek slowly slipped down the column of her neck, his fingertips brushing across her pulse point and working their way down the side of her body to rest on her hip as he slowly broke from the kiss as his mind raced. Was this too forward? This was all happening so damn fast, and well, maybe these feelings were new to her. Maybe he needed to ask? That was the gentlemanly thing to do in this moment, wasn't it?

With his hands on her hips, Harry gently took a step back, giving some room between them as he let out an uneven breath to help collect his thoughts. It was then he felt movement between them, her elbows brushing against his forearms, and he cracked open his eyes just in time to see her head pop out of the red henley shirt that had clung to her torso seconds earlier. Emerald eyes widened as he drank in the sight of Hermione topless, her round breasts no longer hidden beneath the night shirt, or even that lace bra from earlier. Her pink nipples were already hard, peaked, begging to be plucked and tasted. His brain backfired as he tried to process what was before him, causing his mouth to fall open as he drank in her topless figure. She had soft curves, that much he had known for years, but to see them now, laid bare... Merlin, her clothing did her little justice. The large, once-pink scar on her side from Dolohov's curse glittered with an iridescent sheen that would have given away the dark properties of what had hit her, even if Harry was none the wiser. On her collarbone and neck lay the pink scar from the cursed blade, another permanent reminder of war, but even with the blemishes, whether self-induced (like the small indentation on her index and middle finger of where her quill rested when she wrote), or given to her by someone else, Hermione was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was… perfect.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed before leaning back on her elbows and she slowly crawled across the thick burgundy comforter, her chocolate brown eyes glued to Harry as she moved. Her teeth bit her bottom lip as worry of her forwardness began to eat at her subconscious. Maybe she was moving too fast? "Harry?" she called softly when he made no move to follow.

As if snapped from his stupor, her voice pulled him back to reality and he suddenly felt incredibly overdressed. His hands found the hem of his shirt and he yanked it over his head, knocking his glasses askew, and the last remaining order that his hair held was gone by the time he tossed the debatably clean shirt across the room towards his hamper. "Hermione?" he questioned back as he sank his right knee onto the mattress.

Hermione's heart sprang into the base of her throat, her eyes running across his torso. His chest held a light smattering of thick black hair. Hidden beneath she could make out the circular scar from the locket, but moreover, various small spell marks from his years tracking dark wizards. Her impulse to reach for him and run her mouth over every single scar screamed at her, but she knew now was not the time. Maybe one day she would be given the opportunity, but right now was about more than that. Right now was about giving in to an urge she had felt for so long. When her gaze ran further down his body, she felt her pulse quicken, reaching its peak tempo when it followed the thin trail of black hair beneath his belly button to his beltline and a very noticeable bulge in his jeans gave way to what exactly he was feeling.

Her eyes lifted to his to find his pupils blown wide with lust, only a thin ring of green visible now and she shivered in anticipation. "Kiss me," she instructed, lifting her right elbow off the mattress and her hand went out towards him, fingers reaching to touch his skin once more.

Harry did not have to be told twice. He crawled across the mattress, his knees slipping between her legs and parting them with his hips as he moved across her body until he hovered over her. His mouth found hers quickly, and as she threaded her fingers into his hair, Harry placed one hand onto the mattress beside her head to hold himself steady as his other hand dragged up the side of her body until he could cup her breast.

Hermione quivered under his touch, her body practically vibrating with nervous anticipation as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her breast. This was far from her first time, but for some reason everything felt so new. So awoken. As his thumb swept across the peaked bud of her nipple her back arched off the mattress to push more of her body into his palm, wanting nothing more than to feel him pluck the piano-tight strings of her body like a well trained musician.

Harry swallowed up her moans in his mouth, eating them like he was a starved man. He wasn't even aware a person could make the little noises that she was, sending drudging waves of need straight to his cock as his fingers plucked and twisted lightly at her nipple before moving to the other as he rolled onto his side so he lay on the mattress next to her. He could do this for hours, and never be bored, but he longed to see what other little noises he might entice from her.

Hermione whimpered when Harry's mouth left hers, and she almost reached up and pulled his mouth back to hers, but when his lips pressed fondly against her neck, she reconsidered that thought. Her head tipped back against the mattress, exposing more of her flesh to him. She lifted her right hand to cup over his that was on her breast and slowly guided it further down her body, over her ribs, across her belly button and lower until their joined fingertips hit the elastic waistband of her sweatpants.

Harry's teeth nibbled at her collarbone before kissing across the scar, his tongue dipping out to lavish against it as he pushed his hand lower, moving an inch at a time. He wasn't certain if her boldness right now was in the moment, or just how Hermione was (always sure of precisely what she wanted), but right now he could not be more grateful for her certainty because it left little to interpretation. When his fingers brushed across the neatly trimmed hair across her mons, his cock throbbed nearly painfully. Merlin, was this really happening? He had dreamt of this for so long, wondered what she looked like beneath her undergarments, fantasized about what he would find and now here he was. Her body spread across his bed with her hand on his forearm, clutching it for support.

Hermione's nails bit against his skin when his fingers slipped through her pussy, brushing across her clit as they ventured lower to moisten themselves on her essence. His name tumbled from her lips, and she spread her legs wider, offering him more room to explore. It did not take long for him find a rhythm that had his name being whispered like a prayer into the quiet of his bedroom, her hips rocking into him as the base of his palm ground softly against her clit as he worked his index and middle fingers into her tight channel.

He could feel her pleasure rising, the walls of her pussy in a near vice-like grip on his fingers, and just as he sped up, prepared to bring her over the edge, she reached down to still his movement. His eyes lifted from where he was watching her body tremble from what he was doing to her face, his brow knit with confusion. Did he do something wrong?!

"H-Harry," Hermione stammered, glassy eyes searching his as she panted. "I-I need you," she managed, her tongue darting out to dampen her suddenly dry lips.

She needed him…She needed him. Harry nodded, quickly pulling his hand from inside her sweatpants, and he rolled back on the bed to make quick work of his belt. Not bothering with removing it from his pants, he simply unbuckled it before unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs with his boxers in tow. His legs kicked them off, thankfully taking his socks with them as they hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. Turning back to Hermione, his eyes dropped to her waist to already find her without her bottoms either and he couldn't help the primal groan that slipped from his throat.

It was Hermione's turn to look at him in reverie. He was big, not frighteningly so, but enough to cause her core to ache fiercely in desire. Her eyes flickered up to his, and she reached out to rest her hand against the side of his face as she leaned up to kiss him once more.

Harry moved on top of her, his knees parting her legs once more, spreading her wide open for him as he framed his hips against hers before reaching down to grasp the base of his cock, and he swept himself through her folds in a testing brush.

Hermione's legs bent at the knee, and she lifted her right leg to rest against his hips, giving her leverage to rock against the head of his cock wantonly as he positioned himself against her entrance. She needed this...she needed him. Merlin, how she had allowed herself to go this long without him in her life in this capacity was beyond her, because in this moment nothing felt more right than the sparks that flew between them.

Harry's hips pressed forward and he sank into her heat, the warmth of her pussy enveloping his cock, and he had to quickly shift gears in his mind and think of absolutely anything other that how fucking amazing it felt to be inside her. Quidditch...Paperwork…Potions.

Hermione keened, her body stretching to accommodate his cock with a primal ease as she arched up off the mattress and pressed her breasts tight against his chest. His pace was slow, testing to figure out what felt good for them both before he picked up the rhythm with a renewed confidence. It had been months since she had last shagged someone, but she was almost one hundred percent certain it had not felt like this last time - this bloody fucking amazing.

Harry broke their kiss, his forehead pressing lightly against hers as the sound of their bodies joining echoed around his bedroom, mixing with the soft little moans she made to create what he was certain was something he would never tire of hearing. His name had never sounded better before. Long gone was the disapproving drawl she childed at him in their youth, replaced with a cry that further fueled his desire for her. He was close, so very close to the edge, every muscle of his body tightening in anticipation of a climax he was desperate to fight off. At least until he had made her find her own.

Hermione's legs lifted, resting on either side of Harry's hips as he rocked against her, and she dropped her hand from his shoulder, carefully sliding it down her body until her fingers dropped to feel where their bodies joined, his manhood pistoning out of her, laying claim to the most intimate parts of her body. Nothing had felt so erotic before. Lifting her fingers to her clit, Hermione rubbed small precise circles, working the little bundle of nerves around until the combination of his cock deep inside her and the self induced pleasure on her clit pushed her into the open arms of bliss.

White heat burst behind her eyes, the tension in her body instantly vanishing as the only thing she could do was gasp Harry's name as she trembled under his touch. The world around them seemed to fade. There was nothing else that mattered in that moment. No Ron, no Teddy, no worry about how exploring a relationship with Harry was going to affect their friendship. Nothing fucking mattered.

Harry felt her walls flutter, squeezing his cock impossibly tight, and her body trembled with spent adrenaline, and he finally gave in to his own climax. His head dropped from hers, resting in the crook of her shoulder as he ground his hips against hers in small circles as his seed spilled inside her. His fingers curled into the mattress on either side of her, and only the most primal moans could be uttered as he rode out the drudging waves of his own orgasm.

Slowly, careful not to pull out too fast, Harry rolled onto the mattress next to her, his body sprawled on top of the thick burgundy comforter, his heart thumping so wildly beneath his chest he was sure it was going to break free and run away. Reaching up, Harry's fingers swept the fringe of his hair off his forehead before adjusting his frames on the bridge his nose and he glanced over to Hermione, a slow grin spreading across his lips when their eyes met.

"Harry," Hermione breathed as she attempted to regain her own breath.

"Yeah?"

"Don't look so…" Her mind pondered the best adjective to use. He looked positively pleased with himself. Like a cat who'd gotten into cream. And while it did not upset her to know she was the cause of this expression, it did slightly embarrass her. "Smug."

Harry's eyes crinkled as his smile widened with laughter. How he even thought this was going to change their relationship was beyond him. Hermione would always be… well-Hermione. Something he had both loved and hated about the witch growing up, and now it just seemed absolutely perfect because that's exactly what she was to him. Perfection. "I'll do my best."

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking up at the ceiling as she rested her hands over her stomach, feeling the rise and fall of her body as she regained her breath. "I didn't think-" Hermione began, mustering up the courage to put to words something she had wanted to since he first kissed her earlier. "-you liked me like that...like this."

"Oh?" Harry lifted a thick black brow at her, it poking almost boyish over the top of his frames as he rolled on his side to face her. Reaching out, his hand smoothed across her abdomen and found hers to lace their fingers together. "And what about now? Do you feel the same?"

Hermione snorted, looking back over to the wizard with an amused expression that could rival the late Severus Snape's. "Of course not," she scoffed, her fingers gently squeezing Harry's, "I was simply commenting on how surprising that… well, all of this is."

Harry nodded in agreement, his lips pursing to the side of his mouth as he shrugged innocently. "I didn't invite you over here in an attempt to seduce you, but I'm rather glad it worked out like this," he admitted, laughing when she swatted as his chest with the back of her free hand. "'Mione I've liked you for...for ages. I never thought you'd ever give me a shot."

"Ages?" Hermione repeated, her brows lifting at this skeptically.

"I could lie and say I knew fourth year at Yule ball-" Harry started, only pausing to laugh when Hermione very visibly eye-rolled a statement she had heard several times before by various suitors over the years. "- but we both know how smitten I was for Cho at that time."

"Harry, are you really trying to talk about an old flame right after we...you know!?"

Harry snorted, trying to dampen his laughter so he didn't offend the witch who was eyeing him with a narrowed gaze. His hand let go of hers and lifted to stroke the back of his fingers across her cheeks as he shook his head no. "Fifth year. Since fifth year I've fancied you," he explained as he tucked her wild curls behind her ear.

"Fifth year?" Doubt dripped into her tone, unable to help the skepticism that seeped into the moment. Fifth year had been ages ago! It was well before anything between her and Ron. If his claims were true, Harry would have had ample opportunity to make his move in their youth! Something that Hermione would have willingly accepted, even back then.

"We were in Charms. You were talking to Neville. Helping him with his wrist movement on engorgio...and I...I just knew I fancied you," Harry admitted, his wide grin dampening to a bittersweet grin as the memory replayed in his mind. The way her hair spilled from the thick bun on the top of her head, and the sunlight made it look like fresh caramel. The smile she wore, the laugh. She was more beautiful then than she had ever been before. So at ease, in her element: helping others.

Hermione blushed, her eyes averting from his as his words sunk in. "Sixth year...for me," she said timidly. "I...I always had a bit of a crush, but… sixth year was when I knew for certain. When you started dating Ginny."

Harry's eyes softened, watching as she nervously picked at her cuticles as she spoke, her eyes still hidden from his.

"I was so torn between happiness because you're both my friends and I wanted you both to be happy, but also being...so bitterly devastated because…because I hoped that once Cho didn't return your interest you would finally see me."

Harry's fingers ran down her delicate jaw to her chin and he carefully tipped her face up, his eyes finding hers once more. "I've always seen you, 'Mione. You've always been the most beautiful girl in the room...how you thought anyone wouldn't see is quite silly."

Her cheeks flushed crimson. "Oh stop it," she scolded.

"I'm dead serious!" Harry insisted.

Reaching up, Hermione pushed his hand away from her chin, her blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. "I...uh...I thought we were coming up here for you to give me my gift," Hermione teased, hoping to use the abrupt change of subject to allow her time for her mind to catch up to her heart.

"Oh shit. We were, weren't we?" Harry laughed, glancing over his shoulder before back to the witch and he leaned over to press his lips against hers in a quick kiss. "One second, kay?" When he got a confirmed nod back, Harry slipped from the bed and began to move across the room, the glow from the fire lighting his way as he moved towards his dresser.

Hermione crawled up the bed and slipped under the covers, pulling it up to her chest as she glanced around the room curiously as she waited. The last time she had been in his bedroom, it had been so messy: boyhood clutter lined the shelves, empty bottles of water or ale on most surfaces. Now, it was either Kreacher's doing or his own, but either way the room was downright tidy. Short of their clothing that had been stripped off in haste earlier, nothing cluttered his floor, not a single bottle was in sight and long gone were the Quidditch posters and magazines.

Harry moved quickly, pulling open the third drawer in his dresser and he pulled out the brightly wrapped package. It was no larger than a shoebox, and whatever lay inside was obviously light. Nudging the drawer shut with his knee, Harry moved back to the bed and slipped beneath the covers next to her before laying the present in her lap.

Hermione's brow knit… no. He wouldn't have. Grabbing the package, she gave it a small shake and when the contents rolled around with a familiar sort of rumble, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Harry, you cannot be serious!"

"Whaaat?!" Harry feigned innocence, his laughter breaking through his act as he watched her rip open the wrapping paper to reveal a broomstick servicing kit. "You always said the best gifts are the kind that keep on giving-ow!"

Hermione had lobbed the package directly at his chest, her own laugher mixing with his as she crossed her arms over her chest, unable to keep herself from remaining stern as he rubbed the center of his chest were the box had scratched him. "Harry James Potter, you're absolutely the worst. You know that?"

"I know… but something tells me you're going to be a lot more forgiving about that now." Reaching out, Harry pulled Hermione into his arms and eased them down onto the mattress as he nuzzled the back of her hair fondly. "I'm sorry," his voice was soft against the back of her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her body back into his until he lay spooning her, their naked bodies flush against one another. "It was pretty funny though, you have to admit."

"You owe me a real gift, you know?" Hermione told him, not willing to admit the humor in his present.

"I know," Harry agreed, smirking into her hair.

"A proper one," she added for good measure.

"Of course."

When the antique clock that sat atop his mantle began to chime, signaling the dawning of a new day, Hermione reached down, her hand laying over the top of his on her middle, and she laced her fingers into his, letting the comfort of his hold relax her. "Harry?"

"Hm?" the wizard mumbled. He pulled of his glasses and tossed them haphazardly on the nightstand with the expertise of someone who had done it several hundred times. His eyelids suddenly felt exceptionally heavy, and he doubted he would be able to keep them open for much longer now that she was in his arms. The warmth of her body against his was beginning to lull him to sleep.

"Happy Christmas," Hermione yawned.

"Happy Christmas, 'Mione," he returned before nuzzling against her shoulder to pepper her skin with soft kisses as he cuddled in closer. As his nose ran across her skin, Harry's brow furrowed and he pulled back just a hair to look down at the back of the witch in confusion before he leaned in to smell her skin once more. "Uh… 'Mione?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah?" It was Hermione's turn to offer a sleepy reply as she nuzzled into the comforter, not sensing the confusion from the wizard behind her.

"No offence…but why do you smell like the Quidditch locker room?"