Two Muggleborns share a moment of true magic on a cold, winter night. Very fluffy and light AG/HG set during PoA.

Written for the infamous dollface's "I Love You Challenge" on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum. The prompt was "I love lying in your arms without saying anything but to feel your presence."

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

What Magic Really Is

Christmas was always a magical time of year, but the way the wind whipped across the grounds and the cold nights froze the school was almost unbearable. Third year Hermione Granger could hardly believe she'd be spending the holidays in the castle, but it was all for the best anyways. After all, she did have tons of homework to do.

She was on her way out to the library for some preemptive studying in preparation for next semester's first Transfiguration exam. The school was so frigid that Hermione wore her muffler, hat and gloves indoors. She adjusted her stocking cap over her explosive hair while she waited for a moving staircase to reorient itself. Naturally, she was horrified to find Draco Malfoy descending it.

"Looking good, Mudblood," he spat, shoving past her. He hat, too small for her volume of hair, popped off upon impact.

"Jerk," she muttered under her breath, scooping the cap off the floor.

The library was Hermione's sanctuary. While most students who went there got stressed, the brilliant Gryffindor went there to relax. She loved being among the mountains of books, centuries of knowledge right at her fingertips. Hermione chose her favorite table in an alcove by the western-most wall. The library was pretty much deserted at this hour and this close to the holidays. However, as she flipped to her spot in her Transfiguration text, she heard a peculiar chant from a few rows over.

"Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam, she'asah nisim la'avoteinu bayamim haheim baziman hazeh..Amen."

The voice was crisp and cool, and the strange language was intriguing. Curious, Hermione rose. She tiptoed down the aisles and poked her head around the corner. Standing over a small tiered candelabrum was Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw in her year.

He looked up when he saw her, and his face cracked into an attractive grin, exposing the dimples in his cheeks. "Hey Hermione," he whispered. "Keep it down, will you? I don't want Pince to see this."

She nodded in agreement, watching his movements. With his wand, he lit the tallest tiered candle. Next he picked it up and used it to light the eight candles below it from right to left. Her eyes flashed as each successive candle cast a warm glow into the gloomy corner of the library. Anthony, with his sleeves pushed back and a knit skullcap on his head, looked very exotic indeed.

When he had two remaining candles to light, he held the 'lighter' candle out to her. "Want to do it?"

Hermione stuttered. "Me? Oh no, it's okay. I'm not Jewish."

The dimples seemed to deepen as Anthony regarded her with warm, dark eyes. "I don't think it really matters. I practice Witchcraft anyways."

This put Hermione at ease and she agreed. She stepped up to the candelabrum, the big candle held gently between her fingers. She lit the remaining two."

"That's called the shamash and we use it to light the other candles."

Hermione stiffened as Anthony was now right behind her, closer than she'd expected. His breath was warm and he smelled good. The boy gently placed his hand over Hermione's, helping her place the shamash back into its holder.

"And this is a menorah. We light one candle a day for eight days. We celebrate the rededication of our Holy Temple. There were miracles too… " his voice wavered and trailed off.

The teen was mystified. Even though she grew up in a Muggle environment, Hermione never had much interaction with Jews. In fact, Anthony was the first one who actually explained some of his traditions to her.

"We would sing songs too," he continued, and Hermione was not sure if he was talking to her or to himself. His change of tense seemed to indicate a drift back into happy memories. "And we'd eat fried potato pancakes called latkahs and then we'd have chocolate coins. And we'd spin dreidls and sing loads of songs, some in English, and some in Hebrew. My gran even knew some Italian ones.."

Hermione looked at him. Anthony's eyes seemed far away in another place. He was a young teen, but he had the face of someone who was suffering a great loss.

"You miss celebrating at home? With your family?" Hermione ventured.

The boy nodded, unblinking.

"Will you sing a song for me?"

Anthony checked over his shoulder for Madam Pince, but they were quite alone. He broke out into a song called 'Maoz Tzur', his voice strangely deep and crisp for a boy as young as he was. The girl closed her eyes, getting lost in the sound of his voice.

When he finished, they locked gazes again, but teenaged shyness took over. Both blushed and looked away, but before long, that dimpled smile crawled back over Anthony's face.

"Wanna know what the miracles were?" He asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied. Her fingers idly traced the intricate design on the menorah.

"Well, one was the oil. There was only enough to light the menorah for one day, but it lasted for eight. That's why we light the menorah for eight days." He smirked, as if haunted by an earlier time. "Another was what the Maccabees did. They were a band of warriors, and although they were small, they whooped a gigantic army and freed us from Hellenic control."

Hermione nodded along. It wasn't often that a peer knew something she didn't. She didn't grasp much of what Anthony had said. He placed a warm hand back over hers and smiled. She squeezed it.

"You want to know the funny thing about magic?"

"What's that?" She asked.

"Here I am at a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have charmed hundreds of small objects into animation, I've eaten bogey flavored jelly beans, hell, I've flown hundreds of feet in the air on a broomstick. I've even seen a creature that can suck out your soul. My teacher can turn herself into a cat, for crying out loud. But to me…" He shook his head, dark eyes full of hope as he eyed his menorah. "To me, this here is magic."

Hermione moved closer to the Ravenclaw, slipping her arm around his waist. She cast him a coy look, feeling awkward about getting so close to a boy. He reassured her with a small smile.

"I know what you mean," she replied in a small voice. He looked at her earnestly. "You know what used to be magic to me? Before I got my letter, that is?"

"What?"

"Catching fireflies in a jar."

He laughed. "I used to do that too!"

Anthony moved away from her and slid into a bench in front of his menorah. He leaned against a wall and kicked his feet up. "Come, watch the candles burn down with me." He took her wrist and pulled her against his lithe teenage body. Blushing furiously, Hermione settled against him.

They were silent for a while as the flickering candles danced and dwindled. "Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better not to have gotten my Hogwarts letter." Anthony mused quietly. "To let that old magic persist—"

"Shhh," she interjected. "It's no good thinking like that. We were blessed to experience this world so well-hidden from Muggles. Besides…" she paused, grateful that he couldn't see her face in the dim lighting. "I love lying in your arms without saying anything but to feel your presence."

She felt his muscles tighten as he chuckled, but he listened to her and said nothing. They waited until the candles burned down to ashes, Anthony idly stroking Hermione's arms. The silence wasn't overwhelming and awkward, but rather peaceful. It felt right. They were never once bothered by the librarian. But when the lights were gone, the moment was over, and the two young teens stood up.

Anthony stepped close to her, holding her gaze. He clasped her small hands in his, tracing small circles over them with his thumbs. "I hope you have a merry Christmas," he breathed, leaning closer to her. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. As his soft lips grazed hers in a fleeting, but passionate first kiss, she let her eyes flutter shut. She snaked her arms around Anthony's shoulders and pressed up against him, feeling her stomach swoop when he touched we hips. How sweet teenage romance could be.

She smiled as they stepped apart. "I think I just got my Christmas wish."

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I love reviews!