A big thank you to my Beta, Coffee reveries for the help in writing and for letting me take inspiration from an old story of hers. Buon Natale!

Rome, December 18th, 2018

It was still dark out as she rose from the sofa, her back aching and her head throbbing from exhaustion and stress. Winter season was supposed to make one feel lazy, want to mingle much longer under the soft and warm covers, curl up with a nice book or watching episodes of a favorite muggle television show, that had been on the 'to watch' list for far too long. Winter should be for snuggling with a loved one and making love as well. It should be about family, friends, being content and being together. Four years of Rome and she was still living in the same little flat with the tiny courtyard, paintings bought in street fairs and flea markets scattered about, bringing life and color to the rooms. Here were the same scented candles she seldom lit because they'd been gifts; piles and piles of old journals, muggle pens, quills, and ink as well as newspapers and photographs on top of every surface. Bookshelves covered almost every wall and her bed hadn't felt her weight or her warmth since last week because she simply could not sleep… The anticipation was too great.

Hermione slipped her feet into the fluffy slippers that had wormed their way underneath the coffee table and twisted her curls upheld with her wand. She rose from the sofa headed for the kitchen where she put the kettle on. As she turned toward the refrigerator to retrieve the carton of milk, she heard something knock against her glass window. Turning around she caught sight of a snowy owl, Heidi, her best friend's owl who would stop by every once in a while, carrying in a letter or postcard from her master. She pulled the window open and the beautiful creature flew in, circling her kitchen a few times before landing gracefully on top of Hermione's countertop. The witch opened a small jar laying on her shelf and pulled out a treat for the owl before untying the folded piece of parchment attached to her leg.

When Hermione received the letter, she had expected him to tell him of his newest adventure and the place he was currently visiting in the world, maybe Tibet or Honduras, perhaps even the Fiji Islands or Vancouver, Canada. She hadn't at all been expecting what he relayed in his message and now her anxiety doubled, tripled even.

Harry would be in Rome the very next day and intended to spend Christmas with her, just the two of them. The kettle whistled like mad in the background and the owl eyed her quizzically with those yellowy eyes, but she didn't even notice. Harry would be here tomorrow, they would meet again after four years that had passed far too quickly for her liking and the brightest witch of her generation and former Minister of Magic to the United Kingdom hadn't the slightest idea of what to do with herself.

It was his last day in Mexico and Harry Potter was certain he'd miss the place. The colors, the people, the spices, the sunshine, the history as rich as the embroideries on the traditional dresses and the gold of the Spanish churches… He'd always felt at home in Mexico, one of his favorite places on Earth and he'd traveled a great deal in the past twenty years, seen many a sight and met countless amazing people. As he stared at his reflection in the mirror of his hotel room, nervously unbuttoning the collar of his light blue linen shirt and slipping it off. He imagined she would be receiving his letter this exact moment. It was nighttime in Oaxaca and after an entire day of scavenging markets and shops in search of the perfect gifts for her with just the help of an old borrowed bike, he began to feel the familiar butterflies in his stomach, signaling that tomorrow he'd be in a different place and most importantly he'd be with her. Four years, he realized, was long enough for her to have made up her mind already and although brilliant, capable and focused, Hermione Granger could also be a master procrastinator if she put her mind to it. Harry was well aware they weren't getting any younger, hell, they were both nearly forty already, if the white hairs sprouting midst the black of his hair weren't indication enough. He entered the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower, prepared to wash away all of the dust, sweat and anxiety of today. Tomorrow he would see her again and he couldn't wait… The nervous excitement was so great he even sang as the water splashed over his head, he didn't know the words but the melody was from a love ballad he'd heard on the radio somewhere and la-dee-das were all he could manage.

After recovering from her initial surprise and finally downing her morning coffee with toast and honey, Hermione looked around the mess that was now her flat. It wasn't typical of her, to be so careless and unorganized, but the past week she had felt like she was stuck in a limbo of not knowing and it seemed to wipe away any energy and motivation she may have otherwise had, but oddly enough it had also left her unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. So far, all she'd really been doing was eat, lay around, watch television halfheartedly and once a day make the way down to her courtyard still clad in pajamas and robe, despite the cool weather to water her plants, though they looked very much dried and dead, as was typical of the winter season.

Despite all of this, the prospect of his arrival and so very sudden filled her with a giddiness she hadn't felt in a long time. She ran back inside the kitchen and opened the cupboard door taking out the cleaning cloth, broom and bucket, filling it with water and lavender-scented detergent. She went about cleaning, dusting and putting away books, papers, and all things out of place in an organized and alphabetized fashion with the help of her wand and some useful spells learned years ago with Mrs. Weasley and before she knew it, most of the work had been finished before noon.

Hermione changed the blankets on her bed and the one in the guest bedroom/office as well, loaded the washer and like any truly good Italian housewife beat the dust off of her rugs outside the window. Finally, she returned to the kitchen and decided the gray of the cabinets were far too unflattering. She put on her winter coat, boots and crochet scarf, strapped on her leather satchel and made her way to the local shop for construction supplies where she bought a can of paint, some rolls, and brushes. She bid signor Vicenzo buon pomeriggio and scurried off, a woman on a mission. She passed by the bakery, the irresistible smell of fresh warm bread calling out to her and bought two large loaves for home. Before making the turn to enter her street she stopped by the little street fair and bought cheese, smoked salami, vegetables and fruits to stock inside her fridge. She imagined Harry might arrive hungry and she didn't want to risk them crossing a blizzard to find anyplace to eat in. The weather this time of year could be so unpredictable…

As she passed the ancient carved wood and red painted door of her building, she came face to face with her upstairs neighbor.

"Ciao, Carmella!" Hermione called with a smile and the elderly lady with gray curls escaping her head covered in a silk floral scarf smiled hugely at the sight of la Inglesa, as they called her. Deep red painted lips pecked each of Hermione's cheeks.

"Buonasera, 'Erminia! Shopping for Christmas?" She asked upon seeing the loads of bags and packages the witch carried. Hermione shook her head with a smile. She'd given up on any of her Italian friends being able to say her name properly, so 'Erminia' it was.

"Not yet. An old friend of mine will be visiting for the holidays, I'll be sure to introduce him to you." The older woman smiled and nodded.

"Will you be decorating any time soon? It's almost Natale!" Hermione groaned internally because indeed it was just around the corner and she had lost track of time.

"I will tomorrow, today I'm cleaning." Carmella nodded and patted her shoulder.

"Devo andare, tesoro, parliamo più tardi (I have to go, darling, we'll talk later)", the two exchanged another pair of kisses on the cheek and Hermione's neighbor and friend made her way to the building's main entrance.

"Certo, buona giornata, Carmella! (All right, have a nice day, Carmella)" Hermione called from her apartment's door.

"Grazie, tesoro, anche tu!" Carmella responded with a wave, her keys already in her hands, shutting the door behind her.

As Hermione walked inside her flat, looking tidier than it did in weeks, Hermione immediately felt lighter. She lay her purchases on top of the wooden kitchen table and hung her coat behind a chair. With a flourish of her wand, the music player began spinning and the high sound of Etta James' magnificent voice wafted throughout her little home. With a simple spell, all of her cupboard doors were scrubbed clean and ready for the splash of new color and burgundy it would be.

Later that night and after having drawn a nice relaxing bath with lavender scented bubbles and the company of a book and chamomile tea, Hermione even managed to sleep a few hours, physically tired as she was from preparing her home for him.

Heidi the owl was smart enough to stay and sat perched serenely on the back of the armchair in the corner of Hermione's bedroom. She knew very well her master would be arriving tomorrow and it was no use flying back to Mexico tonight.

The words written in his letter echoed in her mind even in the land of dreams:

Hermione,

I'll be in Rome tomorrow evening to spend Christmas. Mexico has been a delight, as always, but I'm anxious to see the Coliseum and the Vatican buildings in the snow, and you most of all. Stock up on the wine!

Missing you as always,

Harry