Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Harry Potter Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: I hope everyone is having a safe and happy festive season!

I

His hands were shaking from the cold.

Harry Potter stared down at his gloved fingers before he tucked his hands under his armpits to warm them up. He knew he was being stubborn, but he just couldn't bring himself to go back into the Castle. Staying outside was a form of defiance towards the powers that be, and he was determined to see it through until it was absolutely necessary for him to seek warmth.

"You're going to give yourself a cold, Potter."

Harry looked up from his position perched on a large rock overlooking the Black Lake, to see his best friend approaching him cautiously. Hermione Granger was all bundled up for the cold, looking rather adorable in her Gryffindor beanie and matching scarf. She was careful with where she placed her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was slip and end up in a pit of snow.

"Scoot over," she instructed him once she was near enough, and he happily shifted, making room for her. Because of the height of the rock, she had to jump up to take her place beside him and she almost slipped off, so she was forced to grab onto his arm to steady herself. "Oh my God, Harry," she suddenly exclaimed, squeezing his arm tight. "Isn't your bottom frozen?"

Despite his earlier foul mood, Harry let out a laugh. "I think that it's actually gone numb," he informed her.

Hermione did not let go of his arm, rather choosing to hug it to her chest, as if they could transfer precious warmth between them. Harry ended up resting his hand on her lower thigh, and he had to resist the urge to tuck it between her legs for the warmth. That would just be... too far.

"Well, I'm starting to think that coming out here was a better idea until I actually did it," she muttered, just managing to stop her teeth from chattering.

"Didn't anyone tell you that it's cold outside?" he asked, risking a smile.

"My best friend could have told me," she said; "but he was nowhere to be found." She waited, knowing full well that he wouldn't comment. "What are you doing out here, Harry?" she eventually asked. "It's freezing!"

Harry chuckled. "It's not that bad," he said, absently squeezing her lower thigh. "It's not even snowing."

Hermione stared down at where his hand was on her leg, feeling self-conscious of the way she was gripping his arm for the first time. Her sudden panic must have showed on her face because he softly blew on her cheek to get her attention.

"Hey," he said, his eyes shining with mirth. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath. "How long have you been sitting out here?"

He dropped his gaze. "Not long," he mumbled, and they both knew it was a blatant lie. He cleared his throat. "Is life always going to be this unfair, Hermione?" he asked quietly, his breath fogging up as he spoke. "I mean, I've accepted a lot that this world has thrown my way, but - " he stopped and sucked in a sharp, cold breath.

Hermione was too cold to brave actually hugging him properly, so she just tightened her hold on his arm. She didn't know how else to comfort him, or to let him know that she understood without actually voicing whatever he was determined not to say out loud.

"When is enough going to be enough?" he asked softly, almost whispering.

Hermione couldn't see the back of his left hand because of his glove but she knew what was there, and she absolutely hated it. It made her blood boil with just how much she hated that ridiculous excuse for a... human being. Hermione had long since lost her undying faith in their professors. How could they knowingly allow that woman to continue to teach when - Hermione sighed. There was no use getting worked up over something she couldn't control.

Her Harry was hurting, and that did not sit well with her.

Hermione had no answers for him, and the encouraging words she wanted to say sounded flat in her own head, so she didn't bother with them. Instead, she decided to distract him. "Sirius wrote to me," she said, knowing that would pique his interest.

Harry brightened instantly, the mention of his godfather too tempting. "Really? What about?" he asked. Then he paused; "Umm, if you don't mind my asking, that is," he added nervously.

She smiled warmly at him. "He asked me about you, and what you liked," she told him. "He wants to get you the perfect Christmas present, but he doesn't really know you well enough yet, so he asked me to tell him all about the wizard who risked his life to save him."

"A wizard who couldn't have done any of it without a certain witch," Harry said candidly, his earlier mood temporarily forgotten.

Hermione blushed, and was suddenly thankful for the cold. It could be the excuse for her red cheeks.

"So, what did you tell him?" Harry found himself asking, suddenly very interested in what Hermione could have told his godfather. "I hope nothing bad."

As if there was anything bad to tell, Hermione thought, and then checked back on her realism. Harry was a human being, flaws and all, and yet he was still perfect. Wow, she was in deep trouble.

"Hermione," Harry prompted, looking amused at how distracted she suddenly was. "What did you tell him?"

She let out a breath, giggling quietly. "Well, I told him that you like treacle tart and sugar quills," she explained. "You love flying, and you love your friends and would do anything to protect them and keep them safe. I told him that you're true, and you're strong, and that I've never been ashamed to be your friend, or any prouder of you than right now."

Harry blinked.

"I also told him that he's missed so much, and that he's going to have to make it up to you somehow."

His eyes widened. "Hermione!"

She didn't shy away from his outburst. "It's the truth, Harry, and he agreed with me."

"He did?"

"Of course he did," she said easily. "He cares about you a lot, and he's excited to be able to spend this coming Christmas with you, even if it'll be behind closed doors. I don't know why but I'm convinced this is going to be a great Christmas, Harry."

"You sound so sure," he commented lightly, smiling at the distant look in her eyes.

Hermione gripped his forearm tightly. "I'm willing it to happen," she told him timidly. "Don't laugh at me. You might jinx it."

"I won't laugh," he assured her. "I want this to be a great Christmas as well."

Hermione sighed and leaned into him a little more, surprised by her own boldness. It helped that he didn't seem to mind. "So, I actually did come out here for a reason other than to annoy you," she said, offering him a small smile.

"You're not annoying me," he said, glancing at her. "I like sitting here with you, despite the cold."

Hermione met his gaze, brown eyes locking on green. She didn't know if he could see the worry, confusion and happiness reflected in her eyes. Because she worried, sometimes, that the core of who she was as a person made it difficult for people to spend time with her. She'd spent years being the insufferable know-it-all, but now she was best friends with this wonderful boy who seemed to accept her, bookworm tendencies and all.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, looking away from the heat of her gaze for a moment. He took a breath before he looked back at her, smiling at her flushed cheeks and slightly pink nose. Harry loved winter sometimes.

"I had this idea," she began, somewhat nervously; "about having a Secret Santa with the DA."

Harry blinked, taking it in, and then his face broke out in a wide grin. "That's a great idea!" he said, tugging on his arm and pulling her closer.

She looked a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "Oh."

"Oh what?"

"I thought that I would have to explain what it was," she said, sounding embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

Harry nudged her gently with his shoulder. "I know I lived in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years, but I do know some things, Hermione."

For a moment, she was convinced that she'd offended him, but then he started to laugh, and her heart rate slowly came back down to a rate that was just above normal. It would never reach normal while in Harry's presence these days and it was definitely turning into a problem.

"But I do really think it's a good idea," he said, his laughter tapering off. "Or did you want to practice explaining it to me, you know, before you told the rest of the group?"

"Do you mind?"

Harry turned slightly, taking a bit of his arm back, so he could look at her properly. He was determined to give her his full attention. "Go on, Professor Granger; I'm listening."

She rolled her eyes, took a breath and then proceeded to explain her complete idea to him. Even as she spoke, she was fully aware of the fact that his eyes never drifted from her face. He was listening intently, and he was hearing her. There were times in their friendship when she knew he wasn't paying attention, but this was not one of them. It was actually a little distracting, seeing as he was so close, but she pushed through her explanation until she was happy that she'd covered everything.

"So, what do you think?" she asked. "Do you think they'll go for it?"

Harry waited a beat, before he nodded. "We'll make sure to tell them that it doesn't have to be anything big or expensive," he said. "Just, well, umm, it has to be thoughtful, and not everyone has to participate if they don't want to. But I think it'll be fun."

"We need some fun," she agreed, absently referring to the residual anger that seemed to be permanently inhabiting her best friend. She just wanted to see him happy; wanted to hear his laugh and see that lopsided grin that always managed to make her breath catch. "Everything is always so serious around here, and I get that that's the way that our lives are right now, but I think we need this. Something light, festive, and happy."

"You don't have to convince me, Hermione."

"Maybe I'm trying to convince myself," she said in a whisper and it was amazing that he heard her at all.

Harry responded by squeezing her lower thigh again, less flustered by the idea now that his hand had been on her leg for quite some time. "We'll tell them in our next meeting."

"Which is tomorrow, Harry."

"I knew that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, what am I ever going to do with you?"

"Well, if you weren't holding my arm in your death grip, I think you'd probably be kissing the snow right now," he said with a grin that made her heart skip beats. Not even just one; many.

Hermione automatically made to release his arm, but Harry shook his head.

"I'm teasing," he assured her. "I like it," he admitted shyly; "it's like you've claimed me."

Hermione just blinked, unsure how to respond. What could she even say to something like that? Did he know? Did he know what his words could do to a teenage girl? Even a girl who desperately held onto her composure around him like Hermione Granger?

Harry took a shaky breath. "Did you really come out here just to tell me about the Secret Santa idea?" he asked, eager to change the subject. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights but, the second he started talking again; she seemed to return to herself. What had he said?

"Partly," she confessed. "I also thought, maybe, umm, that you needed a friend," she said, her voice dropping in volume. "I wanted to distract you, maybe make you forget the heavy stuff for a little while."

He kept his eyes on her. "But it's freezing!"

Hermione's hold on his arm tightened. "I'm not so sure," she said, glancing down at his hand on her leg. "I'm feeling quite warm; how about you?"

Harry grinned at her. "If you catch a cold; you're not allowed to blame me," he said, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping from his lips. "Let it be known that Hermione Granger has made her own decision to remain at Harry Potter's side, despite the bitter cold."

If he only knew, she thought. She would remain at his side, always. She would never go. "Aren't you the one who said that it wasn't that bad?" she asked. "Something about it not even snowing?"

As if on cue and, before Harry could even reply; it started to snow. It came slow at first, landing gently on their clothes and in Harry's hair. Harry couldn't get over how wonderful she looked with snow on her eyelashes, her pink face and a happy, carefree smile framing her perfect features. She looked young and happy and breathtaking.

"Amazing," she said lightly, looking up at the sky.

Harry also looked up, wanting to see what she was seeing. It was amazing. He absently opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, the child in him wanting to catch the snow. With that in mind, he turned to look at Hermione, temporarily caught off guard by the shining in her eyes. "Say, Hermione?"

She didn't even look at him. "Hmm?"

"Is there some kind of spell that can, umm, catch a single snowflake?" he asked, suddenly embarrassed. Would she laugh at how absurd his question was?

Hermione closed her eyes, visibly thinking. She even started to hum to herself, which just made him watch her in awe. Yes. That's what it was. Awe. Eventually, she opened her eyes to look at him. "I'm sure there are ways," she said; "just no single spell, I don't think. I can find out, if you'd like."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it," he said, smiling. "I was just curious, but thank you."

Hermione made a mental note anyway. She would do a bit of research about it, mainly because the question had to have some significance for Harry. He wouldn't have mentioned it if it didn't. It was something she learned early on. With Harry Potter, it was important to pay attention to the small things; the things he swept under the rug when he thought nobody was looking.

The next time Harry felt her shiver; he suggested that they go inside and get warmed up before dinner. Hermione was surprised by her own reluctance to leave their position. She knew it had very little to do with the warmth of their position, but more to do with Harry and their position.

"I promise you can still hold onto my arm once we're inside," he said teasingly. "I'm just afraid, you know, that I'll get frostbite and it'll end up falling off. Then what will you do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she released his arm and stretched her back out. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a drama queen?"

Harry watched her cat-like grace with wide eyes, somewhat transfixed by her movements. "Uh - " he sputtered.

Hermione threw him an amused look before she launched herself off the large rock, stumbling slightly as she landed. She turned to glare at him when he let out a small laugh at her expense. Her one hand moved to rest on her hip as she waited for him to join her.

Harry had a lot more poise as he slipped off the rock and landed steadily right beside her. He was grinning like a fool, enjoying the unimpressed look she was shooting him a little too much. Innocently, Harry thrust out his right arm for her, which made her smile. It was the kind of smile that pulled on his heartstrings, forcing him to open his eyes and take notice.

Hermione gratefully took hold of his arm and leaned into him, suddenly unafraid of their proximity. They were Harry and Hermione. This was what they did.

The walk back to the Castle was slow. Hermione almost slipped a few times and her grip on Harry was sometimes the only thing that kept her upright, though he made no comment on that until they were safely within the corridors, on their way to the Gryffindor Common Room. They didn't encounter any students on their way, so Hermione felt comfortable enough resting her head on his shoulder, her heart thumping in her chest. She hoped that he couldn't feel it.

Harry brought them to a stop just before they reached the Fat Lady, and moved to stand in front of Hermione. Gently, he dusted the snow off her shoulders, her scarf and hair he could reach.

She playfully swiped at his hands. "I can do it," she said proudly.

He just gave her a toothy grin.

Hermione returned his smile, while she dusted off the snow on his coat. "I really do hope you don't catch a cold," she said absently. "Maybe we should have stopped by the Kitchens to get some hot soup or some tea."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You just want to spend more time with me, don't you?"

Hermione ran a hand through his hair, using the excuse of wiping snow from his already damp strands. She was blushing and, as soon as they entered the Common Room; she wouldn't have the cold as an excuse anymore. It was as if he knew, and he was just doing it on purpose.

Harry didn't want to go inside just yet. "So, if I, umm, if I don't get you for this Secret Santa thing; does that mean I won't be able to buy you a present as well?"

"You don't have to," she said, smiling happily. "Really, Harry, I don't expect anything from you."

"But what if I want to?"

"Then I'm not going to stop you," she said, exaggerating a sigh.

Harry absently pulled her beanie down, as it had risen up to reveal her ears. Her very pink and adorable ears. "Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?"

"Does there actually have to be one specific thing?" he asked, meeting her gaze. "Can't it just be for everything?"

Hermione just looked at him, wondering what brought this all on.

"Or, better yet, thank you, for all that you are, and all that you're not," he said, stepping towards her. "Is that enough?"

Hermione blinked, and then nodded numbly, her voice failing her. She would never survive the rest of this year if it was going to go on like this. Something was going to have to give.

Harry looked like he was going to say something more, but the sound of students coming down the corridor stopped him, and he took an automatic step back from Hermione, as if he were suddenly realising how close to her he was standing. He laughed nervously, and rubbed the back of his neck with his still-gloved hand.

"We should go inside," she said, clearing her throat. "We could probably get started on Transfiguration before dinner."

Harry just smiled. "Lead the way, pretty girl," he said softly, and her eyes snapped towards him. "What?" he asked innocently.

"What did you just call me?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Harry sounded equally uneasy. "Uh - pretty girl?"

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I would think it was rather self-explanatory," he said, smirking slightly. "And, I guess, I kind of want to have my own nickname for you," he admitted. "Do you hate it? I can come up with something else, if you'd like."

"No," she rushed. "You just surprised me."

"That's me," he said smugly. "I'm just full of surprises."

Hermione just shook her head as she turned and made her way towards the portrait hole. She wasted no time in saying the password to gain them entry, and then she was stepping through into the Common Room. Once they were in the warmth of the room, Hermione threw him a somewhat dreamy look, and then disappeared up the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

Harry missed a step at the sight, drawing the attention of a few students; but he managed to laugh it off, as he made his way to his own room. None of his roommates were around, so he was able to retrieve his books in peace. He wasn't sure he wanted to explain where he'd disappeared to after classes. He wasn't even surprised that Hermione was the one to find him, or to come at all.

She really was a great friend.

The word gave Harry pause. Friend. It just seemed too insignificant to describe just what Hermione Granger was to him. Perhaps it came from the fact that they'd saved each other's lives before, but they needed a word that was somehow just more.

When Harry made it back to the Common Room, Hermione was already seated at what was now known as the Trio's table. When they weren't in the library, this was where they worked; Hermione acting as ringleader and Harry and Ron her reluctant circus acts.

Harry, admittedly, was more attentive whenever it did come down to schoolwork, though he wasn't nearly at the level of Hermione Granger. Nobody was. Not even some of the Ravenclaw students. Hermione Granger was one of a kind, and it sometimes bothered her when her fellow students couldn't see the merit in being more like her when it came to their studies.

It took Harry pointing out that not everyone could be like her, and that it wasn't fair to expect everyone to be, to calm her down when she worked herself up with thoughts about her House's relative incompetency. She'd get flustered and red in the face, and Harry thought her ranting was sometimes rather cute.

Hermione quickly got them both working, and only spared the redhead a disapproving look when Ron Weasley eventually joined them after he'd run amok throughout the Castle with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan.

Ron just shrugged as he settled in on Harry's left diagonal. Harry learned early on that it was wise - and sometimes potentially dangerous - for him to sit between them. He acted as a buffer more often than not, and today was no different. Ron started to slack earlier than Harry anticipated, and Hermione lost her patience quicker than usual.

They started to bicker and Harry wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. When they both stood up, they drew the attention of other students, who quickly shrugged it off as something they'd all seen before.

"Merlin, would you just stop nagging me?" Ron eventually shouted, his irritation getting the better of him.

Hermione huffed, her arms folding across her chest. Harry looked like he wanted to say something to defend her but she gave him a significant look that told him that she could handle this. Hermione squared up to Ron, reaching her full height and glaring at him. "You call it nagging," she said bitterly, her voice rising; "but I call it 'listen to me the first time, dickhead.'"

There was absolute silence in the Common Room for a good few seconds, before Ron gasped, and Harry burst out laughing. The raven-haired wizard even doubled over from his own laughter, and dropped down into his chair as he clutched at his stomach.

It took Hermione a moment more to realise that all eyes were on her, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction on most of the faces of their fellow students. Her cheeks flamed red, and she made a move to bolt from the room, but Harry's sudden hold on her wrist stopped her. He stood up again, his laughter still evident in his eyes.

"Stay," he said quietly enough for only her to hear. Then, louder, he said: "That was amazing, Hermione." He sounded so sincere. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was also quite red. "You deserved that, mate," he said, and that ended it all. The other students returned to what they were doing, and the Golden Trio gathered into an impromptu huddle.

Hermione was astutely aware that Harry had yet to let go of her wrist, his fingers pressed against her pulse point and forcing her breathing to remain erratic. Did he even realise what he was doing? Hermione reasoned that it would probably be worse if he actually did.

While the leaders of the DA stood together, Hermione explained to a still-red Ron that she had an announcement to make at the end of the next night's meeting, so they would probably have to cut the actual practical part short. When he asked why, Harry and Hermione merely exchanged a look, and then they both grinned at him.

"It's a surprise," they said at the same time, and then they both burst out laughing.

It merely confused Ron, and he suddenly couldn't help the worry that he felt. Or was it fear? Not because of the surprise, but because of, well, Harry being Harry with Hermione. Ron had been jealous of Harry plenty of times, but this was the first time that he'd truly acknowledged his jealousy of the kind of friendship Hermione honestly had with Harry. Somehow, Ron just knew that, if push came to shove; Harry would choose to trust Hermione before he chose to trust Ron, and that made him feel uneasy.

Harry's laughter tapered off, and he regarded his redheaded friend curiously. "Oh, don't worry, Ron," he said lightly. "It's a good surprise; I promise."

Ron noticed the lightness of his friend, and couldn't help being surprised that Hermione managed to have accomplished such a thing. Harry had been closed, guarded and bordering dark at times this term, so this was different and pleasant. Ron stamped down on his own unnecessary emotions. How could be possibly be jealous of that?

"Now, please can we return to our essays?" Hermione asked - though it most definitely was not a question. She made a point of glaring at Ron, who silently returned to his seat.

Harry could only smile at the satisfied look on Hermione's face as he also sat back down. "Amazing," he whispered under his breath, picking up his quill and resuming his writing.

But Hermione heard him.

She had vivid dreams.

Hermione Granger didn't normally dream in black and white, but this night was different. Her dreams consisted of snapshots of a certain wizard, standing with her under falling snow, with whispered words and warm, chaste kisses.

She woke up flushed and smiling, her heart beating wildly. She felt childish. She was sixteen years old. Surely that was too old for schoolgirl crushes and endless dreams about a certain green-eyed wizard. Surely.

But that was what Harry did to her. It hadn't always been this way, which was what was so annoying. Before this year, all she had been was his ever-present best friend, but now... things were just different this year, and she couldn't quite pinpoint when everything changed for her. Because things had.

Hermione liked him.

No. It was more than that, but probably less than love, because there was no way for Hermione to know for sure. How could she? She'd never even liked someone this way before.

Hermione eventually climbed out of bed and went about getting ready for the day. Despite the previous evening's disruptions, she, Harry and Ron had all managed to finish their Transfiguration essays, which freed up some time for this evening's DA meeting. There wasn't much in the way of lesson planning for this meeting, as she and Harry decided that they wouldn't tackle anything new until after Christmas.

The day itself went rather slowly. Despite her excitement over the idea of Secret Santa, she felt nervous about it as well. It was a very Muggle thing to suggest and she was a little worried about how the wizards who weren't familiar with Muggle-lore would take it.

Harry sensed her unease during their last lesson of the day, and he could only guess what it was about. He tried to get her attention to ask what was on her mind but she wouldn't look at him, and he just knew that it was on purpose. She was determined to work through whatever was bothering her by herself, and Harry was going to respect that. For now, at least.

She seemed to come back to life when the three of them started on their way to the Room of Requirement. He spotted her moving her lips, mouthing her little speech to herself as she walked. He didn't understand why she was so worried, but he didn't try to diminish her worries by telling her that she had nothing to worry about. Hermione was the most logical person he knew so, if she was worried, she probably had a good reason.

Harry confidently led the DA meeting, doing several demonstrations before having them partner up to, once again, practice the Stunning Spell. It wasn't a particularly complicated spell, but he was keen to get them to start dodging as well. He and Hermione decided on the Shield Charm as the next thing the group covered once they got back from their Break.

Once Harry called an end to proceedings, he handed over to Hermione, who looked rather pale.

There were twenty-eight people in Dumbledore's Army and, even with two members standing on either side of her - Ron and Harry - Hermione still felt a little overwhelmed. She glanced at Harry, who was giving her an encouraging smile, and then proceeded to speak.

"We've all been working very hard this year," she began, holding their attention in a very Harry-like way. "I know I'm not the only person who's proud of the progress we've all made. We will probably have only one more meeting before we break up for Christmas, which is why I thought it would be a nice idea to do a DA Secret Santa."

She waited for the murmuring to erupt and then die down. From the mixture of confused and excited faces, she knew she was going to have to explain.

"Basically, a Secret Santa is when you receive a gift from someone who picks your name out of a hat," she explained crudely. "I have this hat here," she said, taking the Santa's hat from Harry as he handed it to her; "and what we'll do is put everyone's name into it. Of course, not everyone has to participate, but I reckon it will be fun. You might have to get a present for someone you're not particularly close to, but you get a gift out of it as well, and I think it will help us learn about one another." She paused to make sure people were still paying attention. "We'll trade gifts during our last meeting next week, and note how there is a Hogsmeade weekend strategically placed between now and then.

"With that said, this is really just a little game, which means that the presents shouldn't be big or expensive, just thoughtful." She glanced at Harry again, and he nodded encouragingly. "I thought maybe, on the pieces of parchment, we could also list a few things that we like, just to make it easier for whoever ends up picking us." She was met with silence, but she soldiered on. "It's something light, to try to take away from all the dark we've had to deal with this year, so, umm, how does that sound?"

There was more silence.

"I think it sounds great," Harry suddenly said, to which several people started to agree, much to Hermione's relief. She threw him a grateful smile, which he acknowledged with a nod.

Hermione proceeded to hand out the little pieces of paper. "So, just write your names on the top, and then a few things that you like. For example, umm, I like books and I like knitted things... things like that." She wasn't sure why she blushed, but she did, and Harry's knowing smile didn't help. "Just random things, really. Once you're done, just fold the piece of paper, and pop it in the hat." She held the hat out in front of her.

Of course, she and Harry had already done their lists, so they were the only two left with nothing to do while the rest of the group busied themselves, some of them having to dig deep to discover what they actually liked.

"What if we get someone we don't like?" Zacharias Smith asked.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, before Harry spoke up. "What would you like someone to get for you if they were to pick your name?" he asked pointedly. It was no secret that Harry wasn't particularly fond of the loud Hufflepuff, and the fact that he'd responded at all to Smith's question was enough to let everyone know that Harry felt quite strongly about the spirit of this game being played out the right way.

Wisely, Smith didn't respond, and just popped his name into the hat. Once all the names were in, Hermione gave it a thorough shake, mixing up all the names until she was satisfied. Harry chuckled on her left side, and she looked at him quizzically.

"I think it's enough, Hermione," he said, sounding amused.

She flushed.

"Go on," he said, prompting her forward.

"It's a Secret Santa," Hermione reminded them as she approached the first group of students. "So don't let anyone know who you've got; it takes away from the fun that way," she instructed as Ginny Weasley pulled out the first name.

Everyone watched as she unfolded the piece of paper and smiled. The redhead had to force herself not to look in the direction of her chosen name, which made Hermione smile.

"Luna, you're next," Hermione said, and so it went on. "Remember, this is all for a bit of fun, so don't go overboard, and do try. We need some Christmas spirit."

Harry merely watched as Hermione commanded the room with the kind of grace that he was coming to associate with her. She moved from student to student, a small smile framing her face. This was a great idea, and he couldn't help letting her know when she finally came around to him and Ron.

"Just pick," she said, her cheeks tinging pink.

Harry did as he was told and reached into the hat, keeping his eyes on her as he did so.

"You are so weird," she finally commented, as she moved on to Ron.

Harry didn't say anything as he peeked at his piece of paper. He had to school his features to make sure his face didn't break out into a full on grin. He might have even done a small happy dance if he wasn't in a crowded room. Without saying a word, he pocketed the piece of paper and looked around, somewhat surprised to see several eyes on him. Mostly girls.

Of course they'd want Harry Potter to have picked them.

Once Hermione was sure she'd gone through everyone, she returned to her initial position between Ron and Harry. She was, of course, the last to pick, seeing as she had been the one walking around with the hat. She stuck her right hand in, picked up the last piece of paper and unfolded it. At first, she was convinced that her eye were deceiving her, but a few blinks later; the name was still written there in scrawl that she knew all too well.

Harry Potter.