December 1998

Hogsmeade

Hermione peeked around the corner of the dressing rooms in Gladrags Wizardwear. Harry was flipping idly through a magazine. He had agreed to meet her this afternoon but was not pleased to find out her ″really important errand″ was clothes shopping. The Auror Department's annual Christmas party was in two days, and she still didn't have a dress.

She had tried on this dress last weekend, and Parvati, Ginny, and Luna had said she looked beautiful, but Hermione was afraid she simply looked ridiculous. She wanted a man's opinion before she appeared in front of Ron's Ministry colleagues and embarrassed herself. She took a deep breath and stepped into view.

The dressing room chime rang, Harry looked up, and Hermione watched as he made a valiant attempt to swallow his tongue. By the time his eyes made it to her face long seconds later, Hermione was smiling, and Harry was as red as her outfit.

"Buy the dress," he croaked, then cleared his throat. "Hell, I'll buy the dress. Hermione, you look amazing."

Perversely, Harry's flattering reaction amplified her nerves. "It's not too much?" Hermione turned, examining her back in the three- way mirror.

"Too much what? Too much skin? There's no such thing."

Hermione turned again to find Harry grinning at her. "Be serious."

"I am being serious. You asked for a bloke's opinion."

She faced the mirror, smoothing the fabric over her hips. "But this is a formal Ministry event, Harry. Ron's first social event since joining the Aurors, and—" Hermione broke off, remembering the Witch Weekly article Parvati had tried to hide from her. ″I mean, I'm sure there will be some press coverage, and I don't want them to think—"

"You're a scarlet woman?" Harry smirked.

Hermione's lips twitched at the pun. "I just— I wanted something different, and— I just want Ron to be proud of me, that's all."

Harry frowned. "Who says Ron's not proud of you?″

Hermione pretended to consider the price tag.

"Hermione?"

She shrugged. "It's just gossip."

"What are they saying now?"

She fiddled with the strap of the dress. "You and Ron are quite popular, and there's been some talk in the witches' magazines that— that— well, that Ron deserves better than a 'plain, studious, stuck-up schoolgirl who's too fickle to know her own mind and will drop him faster than a batch of Aging Potion.' "

"What!"

Hermione shrugged again. She knew she wasn't beautiful, but she couldn't hide her hurt at the nasty comments from perfect strangers. And fickle? She'd never been fickle about anything. Especially not Ron.

A slow smile spread over Harry's face. ″Well, you certainly don't look like a plain, studious schoolgirl in that. Buy the dress.″

()()()()

The Granger Residence

Hermione leapt out of her chair. Ron was here! Unaccustomed to heels, she stumbled, and her dad strode past her.

"Good evening, Ron."

"Hello, Mr. Granger."

Hermione stood nervously in the entryway and waited for Ron to notice her. It didn't take long; his eyes were searching for her as soon as he came round the door. He stopped dead and stared, drinking her in from head to toe, oblivious to her dad trying to close the front door.

Hermione took Ron's hand and pulled him out of the way. "Hi."

"You— you look—" Ron swallowed. "You look beautiful, Hermione."

She smiled up at him, wishing they were alone. "So do you. I mean—"

He squeezed her hand. "I know what you mean. Do you have a cloak?"

"Oh! Yes, it's— Thank you, Daddy."

Ron took her black wool traveling cloak from her dad and draped it around her shoulders.

"Well, have a good time," Mr. Granger said.

Hermione and Ron chorused their thanks and stepped outside.

"Please tell me you can spend the night," Ron begged as they made their way to an isolated section of the back garden, where it was private enough to Disapparate.

Hermione shook her head. "I told Mum and Dad I would be home by two. How soon do you think we can leave the party?"

"We'll have to stay for an hour or two, at least. I've missed you so—" But Ron's words were cut off as Hermione flung herself into his arms and kissed him.

They had only seen each other once since Hermione had boarded the Hogwarts Express on September first, and that was more than two months ago during the October Hogsmeade visit. Ron had one hand on the back of her neck and the other splayed over her bare back underneath her cloak, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to stay right here, in Ron's arms, for the rest of the night. The rest of Christmas holidays, even.

"Maybe—" His voice was breathless— "Maybe we can get out of there by ten o'clock. That would give us four hours. . . ."

Standing this close, she had to tip her head back to look at him. Four hours was not nearly enough. "Do we have to go to the party?"

Ron groaned. "Don't tempt me."

()()()()

The Excalibur Hotel

Diagon Alley, London

Hermione gripped Ron's hand and coached herself with Ginny's final piece of advice. Wear the dress, Hermione, don't let the dress wear you.

In the last two days, she had fallen in love with the scarlet one- shoulder dress that hugged her curves and floated around her thighs. She splurged on a pair of sheer silk stockings with a festive sheen and paired them with a pair of classy pumps she already owned. She left her hair curly, and while it appeared to be casually piled on top of her head, it was actually held in place by some strong beauty charms that survived the enthusiastic reunion in her parents' garden. With her mother's diamond earrings, the bracelet Ron gave her for her birthday, a little eye makeup, and some bright red lip gloss, Hermione felt ready to tackle anything. Even Rita Skeeter.

"Ron and Hermione! Look this way!"

Hermione smiled at the group of photographers gathered just inside the hotel's entrance and tried not to blink too frequently in the near- constant glare of popping flashes. They paused for several seconds before continuing through the lobby. Ron gave his invitation to the security wizard, and they entered the ballroom.

The Excalibur's ballroom was set at the back corner of the building with French doors along two walls. Red, green, and gold baubles lit from within drifted across the ceiling, garlands of holly and ivy framed every doorway, and several cloth- draped tables were scattered around a small fountain at one end of the room. Glittering water streamed from dozens of points, but the soothing sound was drowned out by the band playing in one corner.

"Oh, Ron, this is beautiful!"

"You're beautiful. I can't tell you enough— you look absolutely gorgeous."

Hermione flushed with pleasure. When Ron looked at her like that, she believed it.

"There's Robards. Come on."

Gawain Robards was Head of the Aurors. Hermione smiled and made small talk as they moved through the room, meeting people she had only heard about. They met up with Harry and Ginny in a small cluster of nervous- looking young men Hermione assumed to be the remaining freshman trainees, which was confirmed by Ron's introductions.

Harry winked. "Nice dress."

"Fabulous dress," corrected the wizard standing next to him. "You're even prettier in person, Hermione."

She smiled and leaned against the arm Ron had wrapped around her. "Thank you. I thought some of you might have to work tonight."

They all shook their heads. "Why have us working out of sight when they can keep us under their thumbs here? Unless something breaks in the East Midlands case, everyone should be able to have a nice holiday."

The conversation shifted to current cases, and Ginny tapped Hermione's arm. "Fancy a drink?" Ginny lifted two glasses of champagne from a floating tray. "Come on, I know where our seats are."

With a reluctant glance at Ron, Hermione accepted the glass and followed her friend, but Hermione and Ginny never made it to their table. Accosted near the fountain by a hard- faced witch in glittering blue robes, they stood and smiled politely as Mrs. Robards began a monologue of gossip about the senior Aurors. Hermione was almost finished with her champagne before Mrs. Robards finally asked the girls about themselves, and Hermione explained she and Ginny were finishing their final year at Hogwarts.

″How— charming,″ Mrs. Robards said.

″Elaine, you're not interrogating these two at their first Christmas gala, are you?" An attractive blond witch gave Hermione and Ginny a friendly smile and extended her hand. "Liz Matthews. My husband is over there—″ she tilted her head towards the French doors— ″chatting about Quidditch, no doubt. Let's sit down. I've seen you two making the rounds ever since you got here.″ She grabbed Hermione and Ginny by the arm and pulled them away from Mrs. Robards. ″See you later, Elaine.″

Liz moved two place cards and motioned the girls into chairs. ″We have to tolerate her, of course, but she'll absolutely talk your ear off, even without the champagne. All you can do is walk away. It seems rude, I know, but it's the only thing that works. Oh, there's Janet.″

Hermione was half- listening to the witches' conversations about their husbands' holiday schedules and scanning the room for Ron. Harry was in the group with Liz's husband, but she didn't see Ron anywhere.

″He's just the other side of the fountain, between the bar and the band, talking to the big bloke in Auror robes. See him?″

She did. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Have been away at school all term." Janet smiled sympathetically.

Hermione smiled back and nodded.

"I think you make a lovely couple. Both of you," she added to Ginny. "So, what are you two planning after Hogwarts?"

()()()()

Ron glanced over his shoulder and took another small step backwards, but Williamson wasn't taking the hint. Two months away from Hermione, and now they were in the same room but still separated. It was cruel. Ron made an excuse about needing a drink and headed towards the bar, then veered off in the direction of the tables, but Hermione was no longer sitting with the witches he had seen a few minutes ago. He scanned the room and spotted Ginny sitting down with a plate. Excellent. He could avoid the buffet line by nicking some some food off of her.

Hermione's beaded bag lay in the chair beside Ginny, and Ron chose the chair beside it. He stretched a long arm across the table and swiped Ginny's entire supply of finger sandwiches. She scowled and swatted at him.

"You'll have to be quicker than that, sis."

Ginny pulled her plate farther away and wrapped a protective arm around it. "Get your own food."

"I did." Harry set his plate down between them and reached to move Hermione's bag.

"Do you really want to touch that?" Ron asked.

He and Harry had become accustomed to getting things out of the magically expanded bag last year, but the last time Ron had reached into Hermione's handbag, it set off a Caterwauling Charm.

Harry grimaced his appreciation, picked up the chair, and tipped it forward so the little bag slid onto the center of the table with a thud quite disproportionate to its size.

"Honestly." Ginny moved the handbag a safe distance from the candle- lit centerpiece. "You can touch it. She just doesn't want you to reach inside it."

"Constant vigilance," Harry said.

"There you are!" Hermione sat down on Ron's other side, and he helped himself to a biscuit. "Let's stay close, okay? I don't want to spend our first evening together with other people."

"I missed you too, Hermione," Harry said.

"I saw you two days ago. Wait, what's Kingsley doing?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, was moving to the front of the fountain and waving people into chairs. "Everyone, please take your seats. As most of you know, we take a moment during our Christmas celebration to remember the Aurors who have left the department over the last year, whether through retirement or in the line of duty. We actually have two years' of heroes to honor tonight, since last year's Christmas activites were cancelled due to the war. Harry Potter, front and center."

Looking very uncomfortable, Harry rose amidst enthusiastic applause and made his way to Kingsley's side. At a nod from Kingsley, Harry waved his wand over the fountain, and the water gushing from several of the ice sculpture's points glowed golden. Hermione and Ginny gasped.

"Each gold point represents a life dedicated to protection, justice, and service. It is their sacrifices that have made it possible for us to be here tonight, and it is to them we owe a great responsibility as we rebuild a free and equitable society. They will never be forgotten." The Minister led the crowd in a toast, returned to his seat, and the band resumed playing, but Harry remained at the fountain with his hands shoved in his robe pockets. Ron and Hermione joined him for a few minutes until Harry returned to their table.

Hermione slipped her hand in Ron's and squeezed. "You're not really hungry, are you?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

She blushed slightly and Ron grinned. He loved flustering her. Always had.

She shrugged. "Maybe we could slip out for a few minutes?"

He brightened. "The cloak room?"

She shook her head. "Too cliché. What about—"

"Hermione!" Kingsley's booming voice sounded right behind them. "Ron tells me you're interested in house elf rights."

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to meet someone. Helen's husband is here, and he's spent his entire career in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Several minutes later, Ron was still leaning against the bar and nursing his drink. From the look on Hermione's face and her gesticulating hands, her conversation with Helen's husband wouldn't be over any time soon.

"Why the long face, Weasley? It's Christmas."

"K— Shacklebolt stole my girl." No one else in the Auror department referred to the Minister by his first name. Especially not a freshman trainee.

Brian Payne, a junior trainee, followed Ron's gaze and whistled. "That's Hermione? I saw a picture of her in the Prophet a few months ago, but she didn't look anything like that."

"She was probably in school robes."

"Yeah, she was. Bloody bad luck, mate."

Ron took another drink as a few other single trainees joined them. Hermione was looking over her shoulder now, and Ron debated the wisdom of interrupting them.

"Don't do it, Ron."

"When did you get here?" Ron scowled at a slightly disheveled Harry.

Harry looked at him strangely. "I've been here."

Ron looked down at him. "I saw you go outside with my sister."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, it's cold, even when—" Harry broke off at the look on Ron's face, and the other trainees laughed. "It's really cold out there."

"Where's Ginny?"

"Loo." Harry accepted a drink from the bartender.

There was an idea. Maybe he and Hermione could say they were going to the loo, and meet up somewhere else instead.

Harry pulled him away from the group. "Is Hermione spending the night?"

Ron shook his head. "She has to be home by two. Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking . . . logistics. . . ."

Ron had been so obsessed with the idea of getting Hermione alone, he hadn't actually thought about getting her alone. "We were hoping to leave by ten."

Harry looked at his watch. "It's nine forty- five. I'll rescue Hermione from Kingsley and you find Ginny. She can get the girls' cloaks." He handed Ron a claim ticket. "I'll Summon ours when nobody's looking, and then we can meet in the corridor by the lifts."

"You've spent way too much time thinking about how to get home with my little sister."

"They've been gone for four months, Ron. And have you noticed how many journalists are here? I do not need a picture of me and Ginny sneaking out of an official Ministry event plastered on the front page."

"You and Hermione would be juicier gossip, anyway," Ron said.

"Do you want me to get Hermione or not?"

Ron stared across the room and nodded.

"See you in ten minutes."

Ron watched as Harry walked towards the Minister's table, but before Harry could reach Hermione, she excused herself. She was walking with a purpose, weaving around tables and clumps of people, and it was a minute before Ron realized she was heading directly for him. They had been dating for six months, and he still had to restrain the impulse to look over his shoulder for the wizard she really intended to meet. She was beautiful; part of it was the dress, but most of it was just her. Just Hermione, clever and loyal and brave and dedicated and generally brilliant. He was so proud of her, and so proud she had chosen him.

A flash of movement behind Hermione caught Ron's eye, and he realized Harry was still trying to follow the plan. No way, not if Ron could get to her first. He circled the room quickly, and Hermione, being a smart girl, changed course to meet him at the door.

″This way.″ Ron took her hand, and for once, she didn't argue. He led her down the first corridor they passed, so as not to be visible when Harry exited the ballroom, and unlocked a door with his wand. The light came on automatically, revealing a storage cupboard with scattered pieces of unclaimed luggage.

Short minutes later, Ron was sitting on an overstuffed duffel bag with Hermione standing between his thighs, their arms and mouths intertwined, when the door opened.

″Are you trying to make the front page?″ Harry said.

()()()()

Hermione stood under the Invisibility Cloak with Harry in an alcove past the lifts, feeling like an idiot. "This is stupid. We're grown adults. We can leave a party whenever we want."

Harry didn't respond.

″What is taking them so long?″

Silence.

"Harry!"

"Shh!" Harry pulled her flat against him and backed into the corner.

Rita Skeeter was coming down the hall. "Ginny Weasley retrieved her and Hermione's cloaks, but no one has seen Ron or Harry. They must have decided to split up to avoid detection. It's too early for Ron and Harry to have left the party when both Robards and Shacklebolt are still here. Let's circle around by the gardens."

Hermione and Harry watched, frozen, as Rita and her photographer passed their hiding place and exited through the door at the end of the hall.

"If we don't leave now, this isn't going to work," Harry whispered. "If you and I get caught together, we'll never live it down. Do you have anything useful in that bloody bag of yours?"

"Of course I have something useful in this bag. I have lots of—"

"Hermione." Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

Hermione began rummaging. "Light your wand, please."

Harry complied and cast its light into the capricious depths. Hermione felt past her dressing robe, extra shoes, books, makeup bag, and wand.

"How's this?" She held up a Decoy Detonator.

()()()()

The Granger Residence

HERO TRIO CELEBRATES CHRISTMAS, REMEMBERS THE FALLEN

by Eliza Gronberg

In their first public appearance since September first, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger attended the Auror Department's Christmas Gala held last night at the Excalibur Hotel in Diagon Alley. Arriving separately and spending most of their time as couples (with Mr. Potter escorting Miss Ginevra Weasley), the Trio was seen alone together immediately after the Remembrance Ceremony. After comments by Minister Shacklebolt, Mr. Potter's spell transformed the ice fountain into a golden point for each Auror who retired or was killed in the line of duty since 1996, the last time the Gala was held. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger joined Mr. Potter at the end of the ceremony, and the Hero Trio spent several minutes circling the memorial, paying their respects to the names engraved in ice (see photo, above).

Hermione grimaced at the ridiculous nickname (″Hero Trio″? Who came up with this rubbish?) and glanced briefly at the picture taken from behind. She was leaning into Harry, and Ron's hand was on Harry's shoulder. They all looked sad, even without seeing their faces.

A far cry from the bookish prefect on Platform Nine and Three- Quarters a few months ago, Miss Granger shed her school robes in favor of a smashing red dress. Seen in conversation with both friends and other party guests, Miss Granger also spoke with top Ministry officials, including Head of the Aurors Gawain Robards and Minister Shacklebolt himself. Speculation is rife that she will join the Aurors next summer after sitting her N.E.W.T.s, but Miss Granger has declined to specify when asked about her career interests. Sources at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where both Miss Granger and Miss Weasley are completing their seventh year, say Miss Granger is head of her class in every subject and is expected to have her pick of job opportunities. Perhaps she was already lining up offers last night.

Hermione snorted.

While she may be uncertain of her professional future, Miss Granger seems pleased with her choice of boyfriend. She and Mr. Weasley have been friends since their first year at Hogwarts and have been dating since early summer. Even after a term apart, there's no indication she intends to change her mind about the good- looking ginger (see photo, right).

It was one of the photos taken when she and Ron first arrived at the hotel. They had posed rather formally, but this told the true story. Photo- Hermione was enclosed in photo- Ron's embrace, they were smiling into each others' eyes, and her picture self was making no attempt to restrain his hand sliding indecently near her bum. She skimmed the remainder of the article, which went on to talk about Harry and Ginny's activities before mentioning a disturbance in the lobby that led to the Aurors' questioning of Reg and Mary Cattermole. That must be what delayed Ron and Ginny from meeting her and Harry last night; Mr. and Mrs. Cattermole recognized Ron and stopped to chat with him. Hermione's attention returned to the photo of herself and Ron. She reached out to touch his face, smiling as she remembered their night together.

No, she had no intention of changing her mind.

a/n: Written as a (very belated) gift fic for fabricated fantasies for the Secret Santa Competition. My prompts were fickle, champagne, and "do you really want to touch that?"