Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
•°•
Grimmauld Place doesn't hold heat very well. Maybe it did, once upon a time, but that time has long since passed.
Even with a fire roaring and Mrs. Weasley's attempts to fill every creaky corner with warmth— garlands, spelled candles, charmed carols that hum low under the conversations— there's still something drafty about it. Maybe it's the cracked walls, or the history buried in them. Or maybe it's because the world outside is heavier than last year.
But, tonight feels oddly light.
You're curled on the threadbare sofa, legs tucked under you with a mug of hot cocoa cradled between your palms as Fred stands on a crooked armchair, holding a tin that jingles softly with each movement.
"Secret Santa," he announces, grinning down at all of you. "You know the rules. No confessions, no hints, and no budget— just magic, mystery, and mild manipulation. Sound good?"
There's a mix of groans and laughter from the circle gathered around the fireplace. Ron mutters something about getting socks again, and Ginny shoves him.
One by one, everyone stands to draw a name from the tin. You follow suit, walking up to Fred as he waggles the container at you with a wink.
"Destiny awaits," he says, overly dramatic.
You reach in, fingers brushing the folded parchment. One feels warmer than the others, and you pull it out. You unfold the slip and immediately wish you hadn't.
Hermione.
You glance at her before you can stop yourself. She's cross-legged in an armchair, absorbed in a thick book, brows furrowed slightly in concentration. The flickering firelight makes her hair look warmer, like she's caught the last rays of a sunset.
You shove the parchment in your pocket before anyone can catch on.
"Everything alright?" Ginny whispers as you sit back down beside her.
You nod. "Yep. Totally fine."
Your face is absolutely on fire, because now all you can think about is Hermione.
Hermione, who leaves notes in your textbooks when you forget your quill.
Hermione, who always saves you a seat at meals without sayin anything about it.
Hermione, who held your hand for just a second to long after the last D.A. meeting.
Hermione, who you've been trying very hard not to be in love with since last September.
This is fine.
This is fine.
You'll just... find something thoughtful. Something subtle. Something that won't give you away or make it more than it is.
