Hermione tugged at the lumpy maroon knitted jumper she was wearing. Another Molly Weasley Christmas special. A gold 'H' adorned her chest. She supposed the Weasleys and Harry would be wearing matching ones at least. She had paired the knitted jumper with some jeans, torn at the knees, and some black chucks.

She was standing on the steps outside the small town hall in Godric's Hollow, hand raised to open the door but hovering.

It was the first Christmas gathering since Voldemort's demise and it felt… odd. Scars still tattooed Hermione's arm and the headstones in the cemetery still looked too new. Hermione swallowed. It was over. Things were… back to normal. Even if it didn't quite feel like that yet.

Hermione pulled a smile on her face and opened the door to the small hall, stepping inside.

The hall had been done up prettily. Wreaths, candles, mistletoe and tinsel decorated the wooden walls and ceiling beams. There was a large group of people already present. Some were dancing to the band that was playing, some jostling around the grazing table, others just socialising with a butterbeer.

Hermione frowned as she realised everyone was dressed more formally than her. Harry and Ron were both wearing tidy trousers and button-up shirts tucked in. Ginny and Luna were wearing dresses, still no-one was exactly formal formal—but Hermione was definitely under dressed.

As she was weighing up just turning around and leaving, Harry and Ron called out to her, waving her over.

Inwardly groaning, Hermione reluctantly walked over to the boys.

"Hey," Hermione greeted. Harry and Ron both gave her hugs, bone crushing as usual. It was if they had never realised they had grown into fully grown men since their first year at Hogwarts.

Harry had a five o'clock shadow he was rubbing at and Ron had ginger bristles above his upper lip. Definitely grown up now.

"You made it!" Ron grinned, "Bloody brilliant. Fred's gone and set us up a decent firework show for later too. Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's finest."

"Fantastic," Hermione replied, smiling a little. She was relaxing now she was around friends. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. The decorations were very warm and festive and the company was good.

"Hermione! You're wearing the gift I got you!" Molly Weasley came forward and hugged Hermione in the motherly way she had. It was a nice comfort. After the war, Hermione hadn't been able to reverse the strong memory charms on her parents. Motherly hugs were something Hermione had come to miss. It brought an ache to her chest if she thought about it for too long.

Molly released Hermione and the brunette looked around the room. Her amber-brown eyes roamed the room, subconsciously seeking out a certain figure.

Fleur Delacour was leaning against a wall, disinterested as always.

Hermione was surprised the blonde had shown up. Pleasantly surprised. Fleur and Bill had separated before the war was even won. Hermione had expected Fleur to return to France. She hadn't expected her to remain on warm terms with the Weasleys. But then Fleur had surprised her during the war.

"Hello," Hermione greeted, coming to lean against the wall beside Fleur. She sipped at a cool butterbeer.

Fleur didn't look at Hermione, nursing a wine in her hands.

"Hideous decorations," Fleur commented, crinkling her nose with disgust. Her French accent had lessened but was still heavy nonetheless.

"I dunno, I quite like them," Hermione replied, "Gives the room a warm and cosy look."

Fleur scoffed.

"In France, my parents have a much more elegant soiree," Fleur replied icily, "They enchant the ceiling so it snows. The floor becomes carpeted with enchanted snow. Icicle decorations and beautifully decorated trees are scattered around the mansion."

A ghost of a smile graced Hermione's lips. This was how she had encountered Fleur at Hogwarts all those years ago. An ice queen. Entitled, judgemental and proud. Only speaking to complain.

"Must be cold," Hermione responded.

"Enchanted snow and icicles," Fleur emphasized haughtily, "They do not melt despite the warmth of the mansion."

Hermione remembered complaining to Ginny about Fleur's cutting demeanour. They used to call her 'Phlegm.'

That was before Hermione had arrived at Shell Cottage, shredded to ribbons by Bellatrix and barely hanging on to her life and sanity.

The tenderness with which Fleur had nursed her back to health… Hermione had been in awe. Fleur showed a softness that Hermione had never expected from her.

"Having a good night?" Hermione asked, disguising her smile with a big sip from her bottle.

Fleur finally turned to look at Hermione, her bright azure eyes locking with Hermione's amber ones.

"It is tolerable, I suppose," Fleur answered, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow, "How about you?"

"It's looking up," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Is it?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to one side. Hermione smiled wider.

"Most definitely,"

Fleur looked at Hermione curiously for a long moment before nodding slowly. She turned her attentions back to watching the people in the hall.

Hermione knew the coldness was a front now. A guard that Fleur kept up to stop people from getting too close. But now Hermione had seen her with her walls down once she was intent on seeing her that way again.

Hermione took the opportunity to gaze at Fleur. Her face was proud, impassive, aloof. Her hair was a platinum-blonde so light it appeared silvery. Her high cheekbones were delicate, a hint at the possible fragility beneath Fleur's surface.

Hermione's eyes had just run down to Fleur's jawline and neck when the blonde turned to look at her. The look in Fleur's eyes told Hermione that she had felt her gaze on her.

"It's nice and cosy in here," Hermione commented, remembering how much Fleur had loathed the cold at Hogwarts.

"Too warm," Fleur said with a dissatisfied sigh.

"Want to get some air outside?" Hermione suggested, still not put off by Fleur's iciness.

Fleur looked at Hermione curiously.

"Sure," Fleur replied, walking ahead of Hermione.

Hermione followed Fleur, a smile playing at her lips.

Fleur's hips swayed in her dress. It was a fashionable dress, of course. Her long platinum-blonde hair fluttered behind her. Hermione followed eagerly behind her.

They stepped outside, breath fogging in the night air. There were just two small lanterns illuminating them.

As the doors of the hall shut behind them, the chatter and music became a distant rumble in the background.

"Better?" Hermione asked, watching as Fleur finally seemed to relax.

Maybe she just wasn't a people person?

But then why come at all?

"Much better," Fleur replied, looking out into the snowy darkness of Godric's Hollow.

"I haven't seen you since…" Hermione trailed off, her arm seeming to sting at the very mention of her recovery.

"I know," Fleur replied, her eyes coming to rest on Hermione.

Fleur's beauty seemed amplified in the dim lighting outside. Hermione began to feel a little self conscious of her ripped jeans and lumpy jumper.

As Hermione had grown, her curls had gone from bushy and untamed to pretty and wavy. Her face had lost the roundness of youth and grown into a look of strong elegance. She had grown even taller, her once pale and lanky limbs now slender and strong. She had the war to credit for much of her strength, inside and out. But also a lot of her weakness.

"Are you okay?" Fleur asked, stepping forward.

Hermione nodded, pushing any self consciousness to one side.

"I am," Hermione managed a smile, "I'm here with you after all."

Fleur looked curious, but then offered a rare smile. Her full lips grew into a large smile, showing perfect white teeth.

"I…" Fleur trailed off suddenly, an aloofness overcoming her features again.

Hermione found it sweet now she recognised it as a defensive mechanism. She wondered… If she had never been nursed back to health by Fleur… Would she have just been another one of the many who wrote Fleur off as rude?

She remembered the nights she had been afraid to fall asleep. Afraid of the nightmares that would come every night when she shut her eyes. Fleur used to hold her hand each evening. She would read to her some nights, or simply invite Hermione to listen to the far off crashing of the waves. Hermione had always felt strangely safe with Fleur at her bedside. Not even Harry or Ron seemed to comfort her so naturally.

"How have you been?" Hermione asked.

Fleur swallowed noticeably. Hermione wondered for a moment if Fleur had had enough of socialising and was simply going to swish inside the hall again.

"I… I missed you," Fleur said finally, looking down.

Hermione stepped forward, impossibly close to Fleur now. Their noses were almost touching.

"Hermione?" Fleur asked, looking up to meet the brunette's bright amber eyes.

"Mistletoe," Hermione said softly, gesturing upwards.

An uncharacteristically shy smile graced Fleur's full lips and she nodded.

Hermione leaned in, lifting a hand to gently hold Fleur behind her neck. Hermione's soft lips met Fleur's in a gentle kiss that very quickly became fervent. Fleur parted her lips slightly and Hermione's tongue found her way into her mouth. Fleur's tongue came to meet hers and the blonde's hands ran down her back.

It was better than Hermione ever could have anticipated. She didn't need Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, it felt like fireworks were exploding within her.

The two women finally parted. Fleur appeared a little out of breath and Hermione was dazed. She was surprised to find her hands on Fleur's hips. She could have sworn her hands were behind the blonde's neck only a moment ago. How long had they been kissing for?

"Wow," Hermione sighed contentedly.

Fleur smiled, genuinely. Her icy guard was down and she seemed warm and carefree in Hermione's arms.

Azure eyes suddenly glanced upwards.

"Wait, there's no mistletoe!" Fleur noted.

Hermione grinned.

"Sometimes you have to make your own luck," Hermione replied.