Let Your Hearts Unfold

Ring out

Let the tale be told that inspires the dream of the young and old

Love, Love,

Let your hearts unfold, for the bells of Christmas are ringing

-The Bells of Christmas

She held Ron's glove-covered hand tightly within her own as they hit the ground on unsteady feet, church bells ringing out as if to signal their arrival. She wondered if she should blame the snow for their less-than-smooth landing, or if side-along Apparation was a survival skill that had fallen by the wayside as the world returned to normal.

Not that anything felt normal on the eve of the first Christmas since the end of the Second Wizarding War.

"You're sure he'll be here?" Ron asked quietly, his eyes taking in his surroundings.

"Positive," she replied, thinking of the scrap of paper that had arrived at her bedroom window in the talons of an unfamiliar owl earlier that evening.

"H," the note had read, in very familiar handwriting.

"I'm going home for a bit (like we did last year) before Christmas dinner. I might be a little late. Cover for me?

-H"

She had shaken her head in disbelief at the time, wondering if Harry had really thought that she'd let him journey back here alone. He must know her better than that. Now that she was here, she wondered if his quick letter had been an invitation that he was just too shy or proud to extend.

"This is where we spent Christmas Eve last year," she whispered, suppressing a shudder as she thought about all that had transpired the year before.

Ron nodded and gulped in response. She squeezed his hand and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile before leading him down the snow-covered street to the small cemetery. They stopped just inside the old kissing gate.

"Footprints," she whispered, pointing to a set of indentations in the snow standing before a grave a few rows up. There were no tracks leading to or from the spot; the falling snow made sure of that.

"His cloak," Ron said back, indicating he understood. She nodded.

She started to move towards the disembodied footprints, surprised when Ron did not follow.

"I'll wait here," he said, shoving both his hands into his travelling cloak's pockets before repeating himself. "I should just wait here." He pulled his eyes from his snow-covered shoes long enough to look deeply into her eyes, silently begging her not to argue with him.

She sighed and nodded, gave him her best I-don't-agree-but-I-will-do-this-for-you look, and set out toward the grave of Lily and James Potter.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," she said, standing on what she knew to be his left. She waved her wand and conjured a familiar wreath of roses against the white marble as she spoke. Harry sighed, then pulled Ignotus's cloak from over his head to reveal himself. His eyes were red but he was smiling.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he replied. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming. What took you so long?" he asked, cheekily. Hermione smiled with the knowledge that her earlier musings had been correct; the note had been an invitation after all.

"Someone didn't want to come with me, and delayed our arrival," she said, with a tilt of her head indicating the blame lay elsewhere. Harry looked over his shoulder, spying Ron loitering at the cemetery's entrance. He looked back at Hermione, brows knit together.

"He knows the snake's dead, right?" he asked, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "I mean, I'm all for constant vigilance, but he doesn't have to guard the gate like we should have done last time."

"That's not funny," she admonished. "I don't really want to think about last Christmas Eve, if you don't mind." Harry shrugged in apology.

"Ron, stop hovering and come join us," Harry called toward the gate. Ron shuffled and grunted but acquiesced, coming to stand on Harry's right. "Happy Christmas, Ron. Welcome to Godric's Hollow. I just came to see my parents," he continued, motioning toward the shining stone at their feet.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Ron replied. His voice was rough and soft all at once. He nodded at the ground, as if to acknowledge the loved ones that lay beneath his feet. "I'm sorry it's the first time I've been here," he mumbled.

"I'm not," Harry said quickly. "Last time was a bit of a mess. I'd rather you be here now."

Hermione's heart pounded with affection for the two young men who stood to her right, knowing the importance of the words that had just passed between them. She let out an embarrassingly girly squeak that even she wasn't sure was a cry or a laugh before she grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed it tightly. The boys caught each other's eye, sharing a look that was no doubt about her emotional outburst.

The look seemed to be enough, for no one spoke for a few long minutes after their silent conversation.

"It's amazing what difference a year makes," Harry mused aloud, breaking the silence. "Last year, for a minute there, I wanted to join them... and now I am so damn grateful to be standing here with the two of you."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, barely managing to keep the emotion out of her voice or the tears out of her eyes. Harry squeezed her hand in response before releasing her palm to take hold of her wrist. He took a step back, grabbed Ron's wrist with his other hand, and placed his best friends' palms together. Ron threaded his fingers through Hermione's instinctively, and Harry smiled.

"I'm grateful winter hols are here, too, Hermione," Harry said, although he was staring straight at Ron. "He's useless without you, you know." He turned around quickly and headed toward the gate, but Hermione caught his teasing smile.

"I'm not useless just because I miss her when she's at school," Ron protested, practically dragging her through the kissing gate to keep up with Harry. Hermione's cheeks flushed, and she suspected it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Oh, please," Harry said over his shoulder. "You've been miserable ever since we had to work through the last Hogsmeade weekend."

"I wasn't miserable, I was tired," Ron insisted. "Between saving your arse at training and George's at the shop, I was looking forward to taking a break."

"Taking a break? Is that what we're calling it?" Hermione didn't need to see Harry's face to know he was smirking. "If that's the case, can we hurry to the Apparition point? I've been meaning to take a break with your sister."

"Oi, Potter! It's Christmas Eve, must you make me ill?" Hermione couldn't help it; She laughed out loud, pulling Ron forward when he began to purposefully slow his steps to delay Harry and Ginny's inevitable reunion. "Hermione!" Ron admonished. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm on your Mum's side," Hermione claimed, "and if we are late to her Christmas Eve dinner, I will let her know whose fault it is and why."

By the time they reached the Apparition point, the snow had stopped falling and the wind had calmed down. A shining half moon was clearly visible in the dark sky. Harry hesitated a moment when he saw it, and he sighed deeply. Ron placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, knowing who the moon reminded him of and where his thoughts were wandering.

As much as they had smiled that evening, Hermione knew that the Christmas Eve dinner that lay waiting for them in the Burrow's kitchen was not going to be an easy one. No matter how crowded the table was it would seem empty, the past year's losses keenly felt. Harry was right; the difference between this Christmas and the last was striking. Despite all the bad that had come to pass since she and Harry last stepped foot in Godric's Hollow, however, she couldn't help but feel blessed to be spending the evening with the two boys she loved more than anything else in the world.

"Together?" Harry asked, taking hold of Hermione's free hand without waiting for an answer.

"Together," she replied. As the church bells began to ring in the distance, the three turned as one on the spot and Disapparated.

Happy Holidays, everyone!