Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

A/N: This was written for mini_fest over on LJ, thanks to phil_urich for beta reading. The story was inspired by _odella_'s fanart, Lady of the Order. If you want to check the piece out, head over to my LJ (link is in my profile), find the post for Jan 3rd, 2010, and follow the link in the story's header.

As it snowed lightly outside, Terry Boot sat at one of the tables in the Leaky Cauldron, intently studying from a book laid out before him. As his ignored mug of hot chocolate cooled off, Terry was too busy browsing back and forth in his book to notice much of anything else. His job as one of the archivist in the Ministry of Magic had its advantages, and among them, was access to countless pieces of works by an incredible range of individuals.

The book that currently held his interest was a study on the greatest pieces of classical art. Terry loved looking at the these masterpieces made by these great hands. Only a small few that were close friends knew he had an interest in art, mainly drawing. Those who did find out, all usually had the same reaction. One of puzzlement that a Ravenclaw, those held so stead fast to logic, facts, and numbers, could be so interested in something so created and intuitive.

But, there was something fascinating about not just the image the artist created, but the little details and nuances in the image, and the process that went forward in to creating it that Terry found fascinating. He also was a bit jealous of their talent, as he loved to draw in his free time, he felt his talent didn't come close to reproducing these masterpieces. It was why it was a hobby he guessed, though he did wonder from time to time what it took to be someone who painted all those magical portraits.

From since he could remember, Terry loved to draw and color. It was only second to his thirst for knowledge. His mother would tease him know that if his head wasn't buried in a book, he was drawing on everything he could find. In private, Terry would smirk to himself as he remember his old lecture notes from his Hogwarts classes; along their margins, there would always be some kind of doodle. I should call mother sometime this weekend, and let her know I'll be coming for Christmas break.

Suddenly, a loud bang interrupted his attention, and Terry's head snapped upwards. For a moment, he looked around in puzzlement for the source of the loud noise. Then, after readjusting his glasses, he glanced over towards the corner of the Cauldron, and saw Hannah frantically trying to keep a pair of over zealous house elves in control as they decorate a large Christmas tree.

Terry grinned to himself as he watched the Leaky's new landlady try and keep everything under control. This was her first Christmas in charge of the famous landmark, and he knew she wanted everything to go perfectly. Hence the larger than normal Christmas tree.

In his opinion, Hannah was doing a great job. While he was curious as to how she was able to buy the place, as he was never aware that the Abbotts were a particular wealthy family. But, he knew it wasn't any of his business, and he suspected that their had been some help from a very generous friend. A friend who so happened to be close to Miss Abbott's fiancé, Neville Longbottom.

For a moment, Terry watched as Hannah carefully handed one of the house elf a brightly colored bauble. Hannah followed with her eyes as the house elf quickly Apparated to a beam above the tree, and then delicately hung the bauble from a high branch.

As Hannah continued handing out ornaments and other decorations, Terry returned to his book. Flipping a few pages, he stopped as he came to a portrait of a young woman in what looked like classic garments. While by today standards the woman would probably be consider plain, to those of the time, and to Terry, the woman was strikingly beautiful. This was another quirk to him, he preferred the classics to contemporary things, such as beauty. He much preferred a natural looking woman, who had curves and wasn't perfect looking.

Staring at the portrait, his mind began wandering, and he began daydreaming what it would've been like to paint something like that. In his daydream, the model always seemed to be the same woman, or witch. An old crush that Terry couldn't, or perhaps wouldn't let go.

Than as if on cue, that witch came bursting through the Cauldron's door accompanied by an ice cold wind and her normal companion.

"Evening, Hannah!" Hermione Granger called out as she brushed some snowflakes from her coat.

"How are you Hermione?" Hannah called back.

"Cold," Harry answered for Hermione, while he blew on his hands.

Hannah laughed and ushered them towards a table. "Well, have some stew. It'll warm you up, and I promise Harry, I didn't put any weird stuff in it this time."

Terry watched the trio laugh as Hermione and Harry sat down. Propping the book in front of him, trying to appear as if he wasn't watching, he continued to listen in.

"Where's Ginny?" Hannah asked.

"Last minute practice for the United game next week. Sometimes I miss the game, but then I see Jones, and I'm reminded of Oliver."

"Harry," Hermione chided, and just rolled her eyes as Harry laughed.

"I'm just saying it'd be nice to see my wife for more than a few hours every other day," he told the other two women.

Tuning out the rest of the conversation, as well as most of the other background noise, Terry looked back at the portrait. She'd be perfect for a portrait like this. She looks so much like one of them. I just wish I had the real talent to create something this good, and to make her look this good.

How is someone like her single?/i Terry thought to himself as he glanced briefly over the top of his book. What kind of fool would not want to be with a woman like that? As mismatched as they were, I can't believe Ron wouldn't try harder to make it work. Hermione is a witch who could only make you better. Sure, she's not perfect, who is?

Certainly not Ron. Terry snickered at the thought, as he had never really liked Ron. He found the other wizard to be loud, obnoxious, far too opinionated, and at times, seemed to think far too highly of himself. Terry never understood why everyone thought Ron and Hermione were good for each other, and how all their arguing was some kind of unresolved romantic tension. Yea, it was tension, but there was nothing romantic about it.

Even though he had developed an attraction to the brunette, he didn't dare act upon it. While he didn't understand it, and thought it doomed to fail, Terry knew at some point Ron and Hermione were going to collide like two speeding trains. Whomever had the unfortunate chance to get in between them was going to get run over. Like Lavender.

Terry cringed a little as he thought about Lavender Brown. Sure, she was a bit obsessive and went a little over board, but the way Ron treated her was wrong. If it hadn't been for other events immediately afterwards, Ron may have found out how annoyed his classmates were with him.

"Hi Terry," Hermione's voice rang out close by.

"Uh?" Head jerking up, he snapped the book shut on reflex. He then groaned as he felt pain surge through his hand, and then realized that he had slammed the book shut on his fingers. "Hi Hermione," Terry replied as he flexed his throbbing fingers. "Didn't hear you walk up."

Hermione laughed softly at him, before sitting in the chair next to him at his table. "Sorry, didn't mean to spook you," she teased. "Some habits just won't go away," referring to their years at Hogwarts. Everyone had heard of the tales of the Golden Trio sneaking around the school. While the knew them to be true, it was just, no one could prove it at the time.

"I saw you over here reading when we came in, and I just wanted to thank you for those case studies. I really only needed the past ten years, but being able to go back almost thirty really helped me build a better case for my proposal. I think I was able to present a much more concise argument about the rights and care of magical creatures who can't protect themselves."

Terry just smiled politely as Hermione explained how she used the case studies he had provided her. He really didn't understand what she was going on about, he was just happy he was able to help her out. "You're welcome, Hermione."

As she smiled softly at him, Terry felt his pulse race and he began to toy with the spine of his book. The moment was broken by the sound of glass shattering, and both turned to look at Hannah struggling to control her temper.

Harry casually walked over, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Hannah. I'll fix the snowflake." Hermione and Terry watched as Harry gather as many of the glass shards of the ornament as he could, and then with a casual flick of his wand the shards began spinning in the air, with the missing small pieces joining the larger ones. After a few seconds, it stopped spinning and the glass snowflake was whole again.

While Hannah thanked Harry, Hermione returned her attention to Terry. "If I can return the favor, let me know. You saved me a lot of work" she told him.

Even though he thought he was probably opening himself up for ridicule, especially by a woman he was attracted to, but Terry seized the opportunity anyway. "Actually, there is something. If you wouldn't mind I mean."

"Oh, what is it?"

Pausing for a moment, mentally debating, iI've gotten this far./i Turning the book so it faced her, he showed her the cover of his book.

"The Masters of Art," she read the title, and then looked up at Terry.

"I like to draw, and paint a little. It's a hobby, helps to de-stress. Anyway, there's this picture," he began, and then opened the book. "It's a portrait of a young woman, during the Renaissance," Terry continued as he searched for the right page. "Ah, here it is."

Hermione gazed back down at the book, and looked at the painting that Terry had been looking at earlier. "It's beautiful, but I don't understand."

"I want to try and recreate it. I could probably do it from just this picture, I've done it before. But, I'd like to try drawing something with a real person, a model. I think it would be an interesting challenge."

"A model? Me? Terry, I'm flattered. But,… I'd love to help you, but I don't think I'm the right person for something like this."

Terry pushed the book closer to her so she could a closer look at the painting. "I think you're perfect for it. You have the same classic type of beauty." An awkward feeling passed through him as he watched Hermione look away briefly, and he could almost swear that their was faint pink tint to her cheeks. "I promise, it'll be easy. All you have to do is sit there and let me draw your profile. It'll take maybe a few hours, top."

Hermione scratched the back of her head as she thought about it. It's kind of weird having someone want to draw you. I mean, why would anyone want to draw me?

"Alright, I guess. I still don't understand why you'd want to draw me, but I'll help you out."

"Excellent. Would it make you more comfortable if we did at your place?"

"If it's easier for you at yours, that's fine." Hermione glanced back at her table as she saw Hannah walking towards it with two large bowls. "My food's here, I better get back to Harry before he eats it all on me."

"Sure. I'll interoffice the directions to you tomorrow."

With a small nod, Terry watched Hermione walk back to Harry. Letting out a deep breath, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he had gotten around one obstacle, but now face another. Now, I've just got to create the best drawing I've ever done.

On the last Saturday before Christmas, Terry stood in his small apartment in the outskirts of London, waiting for Hermione to arrive. After sending the directions to Hermione, they made plans to meet today after Hermione finished some last minute holiday shopping in Diagon Alley.

On his kitchen table, that served multiple purposes, Terry had laid out a piece of parchment on top of wooden table lecturne that he had salvaged from the Ministry. With a few mortifications, it worked perfectly as a drawing board. Next to the lecturne were three thin charcoal pencils that he was going to use to sketch the drawing with. Picking each one up, Terry check to make sure they were sharpened. His plan was to simply sketch out the drawing, using the picture in the book as a guide, with adding in Hermione's features to give it a unique look.

Glancing at the clock for a moment, Terry noticed Hermione was late. Probably got caught up in all the foot traffic in the Alley. I can't believe so many people wait until the last minute. It's kind of unlike her. Usually, she's one to have everything planned out, and be done long before Christmas. He then snickered to himself. She's probably done long before December even.

Seeing that everything was pretty much set, he look once again at the picture in the book. He had been studying it so intently the past few days, he pretty much could picture it with his eyes closed. Though, after a few minutes, it eventually morphed in to Hermione.

Moving over to one of the few windows in his two room apartment, Terry looked outside. The snow storm that had blown through a few days ago, most of the snow was melting away. It was odd, but the deep snowfall was one of the things he missed most about this time of year. While London did see a bit of snow during the winter, it was nothing like farther up north at Hogwarts.

Looking back at the clock, the face showed barely a minute had passed. Running a hand through his hair, he wondered to himself why he was nervous. It wasn't like it was a real date or anything, and crush or now, it was simply Hermione.

No, there's no simply Hermione. There's nothing simple about her. After first year, everyone pretty much knew who she was, apart of the famous or infamous Golden Trio. But for the first few years, he really hadn't paid her much mind, though he thought that maybe she was a bossy, know it all. But in third year, when electives started, his interest in her piqued. Never did figure out how she seemed to be every where at once that year.

From that simple question, Terry began to notice other things as well. The way her nose crinkled when she was deep in thought, or the way she just seemed to have to know everything or the world would come to an end. Chuckling to himself, he remember Hermione's reaction when ever someone knew something she didn't. The poor girl would practically lock herself in the library, trying to research whatever it was.

Being deep in thought, he jumped a little when a knock sounded from his door. On impulse, he smoothed his hair before moving to the door. Opening it, Hermione quickly stepped through and inside.

"It's freezing out," Hermione said breathlessly as she placed her bags down by the door.

Terry watched Hermione stand back up and blow in to her gloved hands. He felt himself mesmerized by the image of Hermione, face flushed from the cold and wind blown hair. While she may have thought herself all disheveled as she struggled to tame her hair back, he thought she was beautiful.

Seeing her blow on her hands again, Terry snapped out of his revive and drew his wand. "Here, warm yourself by the fire. It's small, but the fireplace gives off some good heat." Even though he lived in a mostly Muggle neighborhood, his building had been enhanced and modified for a witch or wizard to live in, while protecting their secrecy.

When he lit the fire, Hermione thanked him as she extended her numb hands to the building fire. As she warmed herself, she glanced around a bit. i\This is nothing like I expected. It actually looks like a person lives here.

Seeing her look around, Terry felt a big uneasy. "What?"

Hermione blushed a little at getting caught. "Sorry. It's just… Its not what I expected."

Thinking about it for a moment, he snickered as he understood what she meant. "Expecting a lot of books and papers all over the place?" he teased.

Giggling a little, Hermione shrugged. "I've spent a bit of time at Padma's, and while I love her place, it has a very distinct feel of something like a library. I'd love to have a library in my home, but I wouldn't want to live in one."

"That's quite unexpected Miss Granger, as I thought you spent most of your time holed up in one," Terry continued to tease, thrilled to be making the witch laugh and also to see her playing back a little.

Finally warm enough, Hermione removed her gloves and stuff them in to her coat pockets. When she began to remove her coat, as a true gentleman, Terry helped her out of it. With her jacket in her hands, and she straightening herself out, he struggled for a moment as he was overwhelmed by her light perfume that clung to her jacket and how her sweater seemed to cling to every curve. Shaking his head, he quickly looked away and moved to hang up her coat.

"So, how does this work exactly?" Hermione asked softly, a bit unsure, as she turned from the fire to face Terry. "What do I have to?"

"Just sit in the chair, facing the door, and try to stay as still as possible while I draw," he explained. "Though if you need to move or it gets too uncomfortable, let me know and we take a break."

"Still can't understand why you'd want to draw me though," Hermione said as she walked towards the chair.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Terry found himself quickly quoting. As soon as the words left his lips, he kicked himself for saying it. Busying himself with his prep work, he kept his gaze downcast as he could feel Hermione looking at him.

"I'm ready when…" Terry started to say as he looked up, but lost his voice as he watched Hermione remove her sweeter to reveal a long sleeved, red top. The shirt had a low swooping cut that exposed the top of her shoulders and a bit of her chest. Feeling his throat go dry as his mind screeched to a halt, he didn't trust his voice even if he could speak.

Either not noticing or choosing to ignore it, Hermione laid the sweeter on the back of another chair. "I looked up the picture the other day, trying to get a better idea of what you might need. Ginny leant me the top," she explained as she settled in to the chair. "Ready?" she asked. Glancing over at him, she noticed his awe struck expression and became self conscious. Shifting a little, she tried to adjust the top to hide more of her exposed skin. "What?"

"Sorry," Terry muttered, kicking himself for being such a pig. "It's perfect, and you look great in it," he rambled as he fidgeted with his glasses.

Hermione looked at Terry out of the corner of her eyes. I must be imagining things. Terry's not interested in me. We're just…Could you really call us friends? I mean we are friendly, but more like co-workers. Though, he is kind of cute. No, no more guys in my life. Now it's time to focus on me.

She continued to watch him as he hunched over the lecturne with a pencil in his hand, and slowly began to sketch. The look of intense concentration intrigued her, as she never really thought of drawing requiring such determined focus. "Can I ask you something, or would you rather I stayed quiet?"

Glancing up for a second, he shrugged. "As long as you don't move around a lot, ask away."

"How long have you been drawing?"

"As long as I can remember," Terry answered. "Allows me to lose myself in something for a few hours. I'm not very good, but it's a hobby."

"Have you ever showed anyone anything you've drawn?'

"Not really. I'm too much of a perfectionist to let anyone see anything," Terry said as he looked back up at her, studied her for a moment before beginning to sketch again.

"Than how'd you know you're not very good?" she asked rhetorically. "We are are own worst critic."

"That's what Professor Brahms said."

"Brahms?" Hermione asked, not remembering the name. There were so many Professors who taught subjects that even she didn't take.

"She taught Light Arts," Terry answered. Pausing for a moment in his drawing, he sat down in his chair and looked at her from across the table. "I thought you had the class listings memorized."

Hermione gave him a sarcastic smirk. "At the time yes, but as I never took Light Arts and it was almost ten years ago, I don't exactly remember."

Terry chuckled to himself. "I thought I never see the day when the great Hermione Granger admits she doesn't know something."

"Funny," Hermione shot back. "What's the Light Arts like?"

Returning to his pencil and paper, Terry began to describe the Light Arts as the opposite of the Dark Arts in a way. While the Dark Arts were typical used for destructive and combative purposes, the Light Arts were for more creative and enlightening pursuits. "It's how you make those magical portraits that are all over Hogwarts. The magic those painters use to almost bring life to their creations is magic that's consider Light Arts.

"Professor Brahms once played one of Mozart's symphonies on a piano that she enchanted using Light Arts, and it was almost as if you could feel the music, the emotion."

"Is that why you like classic music?"

"Uh?" Terry asked looking up again, confused as to how she could possibly know that.

Turning her head slightly, she smiled softly at him. "I saw the record player earlier, and I can see the records from here. I recognized a few names. Bach, Beethoven, Mozart. An impressive collection, but why records? It is the 21st century. Plus, I don't think you throw off enough magic for any major electronics to have difficulties."

Very observant. Unlike most Gryffindor, she just doesn't jump to conclusions. I can understand why Harry relied on her so much, Terry thought. "You're right, I don't. I have a music player in the bedroom, but when I'm doing stuff like this, there's just something more fitting with using the record player. Plus, if I am doing something magic, it's more durable. Less can go wrong with a record player than something like one of those electronic players."

Hermione nodded understanding his point. Once again, they fell into a comfortable silence. Her sitting there staring off in to space while thinking, him focused on his drawing. The only noise that could be heard aside from their breathing, was the scratch of the charcoal pencil on the paper.

After a short bit, Terry placed the pencil down and took a brief break to rest his throbbing hand. This was the longest he had drawn for, and his efforts to make this perfect were making his hand cramp up. As he flexed the throbbing hand and fingers, he casually looked across the table at Hermione. She had stood up and was slowly stretching her back, stiff from trying to stay still for so long.

"What are you going to do for Christmas?"

Sighing softly, Hermione sat back down, but faced him this time. "I've decided to have a… quiet Christmas this year. I'm going to go with my parents to this continent year, and visit my grandmother. My family would always go to Rennes for Christmas time, but most recently, I've been elsewhere. I would usually see them for a day or two before they departed, and we would have our own mini celebration then. But, it just wasn't the same, and I missed seeing my extended family."

Terry simply quieted nodded. While he didn't know the details, he could fill in the blanks of her statement easy enough. "Your grandmother is in France?" Terry grinned as Hermione smiled again. He didn't like to see her sad, her whole face seemed to light up when she would smile.

"My mother's maternal side is from Northern France. My grandmother married an Englishman, and they moved here. When my grandfather passed away years ago, she moved back to France to be closer to her family. I used to love going there on holiday, especially over summer." Hermione softly laughed. "I still think my grandmother was the only person in my immediate family that we told, who wasn't surprised that I was a witch.

"What about you?"

"Well, nothing as exciting as going to France, but my parents house. See my parents, and my little sister. We usually spend Christmas Eve around the fireplace, my parents sipping eggnog, though how they drink that stuff is beyond me. When we were younger, me and my sister would snoop around for presents. Then Christmas, we'd get up earlier tear in to the presents, and then if there was enough snow, there's a large hill near the house. Elisa and me would go sledding for hours," he answered.

"Sounds nice," Hermione said. "How old is your sister?"

"She'll be 24 next year. Though, she'll always be the little pain to me."

As Terry returned to the drawing, Hermione sat there for a moment watching him. As if sensing it, Terry looked up with a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Just thinking."

"Well, don't think too deeply. Knowing you, might get lost," he teased. Why is it so easy to just talk to her like this? Usually, I'm so guarded and tightly wound, but with her, even the stupid teasing just comes out.

"Keep it up, Boot," she warned, though not too seriously. "I've taken down bigger opponents than you before."

As Terry continued to draw, the pair kept talking. The subjects were superficial, but in those few hours alone together, they learned more about each other than they had known in the seven years of going to school together.

Finally, after three hours, Terry put down his pencil for the last time. "Finished."

Stretching, Hermione ignored the protests of her back and legs as she stood up again. "Can I see?"

"It's a bit crude, not really done yet. I want to go back and clean it up a bit," Terry said, feeling doubts that the drawing was any good. He didn't want to show her anything that wasn't exactly perfect, and to him, when he looked at the drawing he had just done, all he could see were the little imperfections.

"Pssh. That doesn't matter," Hermione told him, brushing his concerns aside. "I want to see it. I've never had anyone draw me before."

Terry took a reluctant step back as Hermione rounded the table. As she looked at the picture, he couldn't see her reaction as her back was to him. Well? How bad is it? Do you hate? Tell me!

"Terry," Hermione said very faintly. "It's incredible."

"Uh?" he asked dumbfounded.

Turning to her, he could see she was all smile. "It's beautiful. I love the hairpiece that you drew. I've never seen myself on paper like this. It's kind of an odd feeling. But you did an amazing job," she told him and then hugged him.

Breaking apart from the hug, they both looked away slightly embarrassed. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," she told him. "Even if it is a hobby, you're very good. Maybe sometime, you'll draw something else that I can see?"

"Sure," he blurted out, and then getting an odd feeling as she smiled at him again.

Glancing at the clock, Hermione saw that it was nearing eight o'clock. "I better get going," she said, an almost reluctant tone to her voice. "I've got a bit more packing to finish."

"I'd figure you'd have done all that days ago."

Grinning, she playfully shoved him in the shoulder. "It's Crookshanks. He doesn't like the crate, and he knows something is up when I start to pack his stuff up. So, I save it for the last moment I can. I think it's easier on both of us this way."

"When do you leave?" he asked as he helped her put her coat back on.

"For my parents, Monday night. France, on Tuesday."

Gathering her packages up, she paused at the door and turned to him. "I hope you have a nice Christmas, and we should have lunch after the holiday. I really would like to see more of your sketches."

Opening the door for her, he nodded. "Sure. I'll bring my sketchbook with me one day soon. Have a nice trip."

"You too."

As she left, Terry felt his apartment was oddly quiet now. Odd since he had never felt this way in the few years he had been here. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he slowly walked back to the table, and gazed down at the picture again.

Having taken all his art supplies out earlier in the today, he looked over at fine tipped paint brush that was rolling across the table. Gathering it up, he twirled it in between his fingers as if it a wand.

Two days, he thought to himself as he gazed back at the picture. Then setting his mind to it, he gathered a bottle of what looked like a clear liquid, opened it, and dipped the paint brush in it.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered softly under his breath. "Poena colo colui cultum," he cast softly and lightly touched the brush to the quill feather in the picture. He smiled a little as it began to turn red where he swiped his brush.

Hermione growled in annoyance as stubbed her toe against one of her suitcases as she stumbled towards the door. "I'm coming!" she snapped at the whoever was outside knocking. I swear, if they're trying to sell me something, I'm going to hex them, she snarled to herself as she finally reached the door just as whomever it was started knocking again.

"Who is it?"

"Terry," came an unsure voice from the other side of the door.

After making sure it was him, Hermione unlocked the door and opened it. "What's so important that you were trying to take down my door?"

Terry smiled nervously. "Sorry about that. I just wanted to give you this before you left."

"What?" she asked as she ushered him inside her flat. He gently placed a large, flat, rectangular package down on her dinning table. The whole package was wrapped in brown paper. "What is this?"

"Consider it an early Christmas gift," he told her. "Now open it."

Taking a last look at Terry, Hermione carefully grabbed an edge of the brown paper and peeled it away. As she reached the bottom, she saw what was beneath it. "The picture. You finished it!" Taking off more of the brown paper, she saw that he not only finished it, but he also painted it. With it unwrapped, Hermione gazed down on it in awe. "Terry, it's amazing. It looks almost… lifelike."

"That's the Light Arts. I just wish I knew enough to animate it."

"Still, it's incredible. But, I can't take this. You obviously put a lot of effort in to it."

"I did it because I wanted you to have it. You were the inspiration behind it, so I kind of thought it fitting that you should have it," Terry explained. "Plus, you're the one who put up with modeling for it. Stiff neck and all."

"Thank you, Terry," Hermione replied, not sure what else to say. The gift was completely unexpected. She didn't do it so she'd get something out of it, she simply did it to return the favor of a friend. As she looked at it some more, she found herself critiquing herself in a way. "I love it. Makes me kind of wish I did look like that."

"You do," Terry said before he could stop himself. When Hermione gave him a curious look, Terry decided he was in far enough, might as well go all the way. "I didn't embellish anything, I'm not that good. Maybe the skin is a bit flawless and the hair a little too perfect, but that image is not far off from the real thing."

"Now you're just blowing smoke."

"I'm not," Terry said, defending his comments. "Not every guy goes for the blonde hair, blue eyes, and big chest."

"So there are guys who go for the plain looking, frizzy hair look?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Terry smirked. "Is that what you see?" he asked her rhetorically. "I see a woman who looks like classic beauty who all the masters would've love to have drawn. Why do you think I wanted you to model for this portrait."

Self consciously, Hermione toyed with her hands. "Thanks Terry," she said quietly.

"Umm, you're welcome," he responded, a bit unsure of himself or what effect his ramble just had. "But you are pretty, and if some idiot doesn't realize it, than it's his loss.

"I should probably let you get back to packing. Have a nice trip," Terry said, backing towards the exit. Right now, his instincts were telling him to get out now before he put his foot in to his mouth. But just as he reached the door, Hermione halted him.

"Terry," she said just as he reached for the doorknob.

"Yea?"

"I was wondering, I have an extra ticket for the Ministry's New Year's Celebration. If you're not busy, would you like to go?"

She almost sounds nervous. Realizing she was looking at him expectantly, he quickly pulled his mind from getting lost in his own thoughts. "Sure. Sounds like fun," he answered giving her a small grin. "Umm, enjoy France," he said awkwardly. "I'll see you when you get back. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, and have a nice time at your parents," she replied. "And remember, you said I could see the rest of your art book."

With a small nod, Terry opened the door and took his leave. As she watched the door click shut behind him. She began to wonder if she had done the right thing. It had been almost a year since getting out of her relationship with Ron, and aside from a few disastrous dates, she really hadn't seen anyone else. But, there was something different with Terry. Something calming about him that put her at ease.

While gazing at the picture, she still didn't truly believe everything Terry had told her. Like I'm some kind of classic beauty she thought to herself with a snicker. But, it's nice to know someone thinks I am. Maybe this Christmas won't be so bad after all.