Yuletide Blessing

Winter Vacation

The Grangers were waiting for them near the platform, on the muggle side. They first hugged Hermione tightly, before she made the introduction. "Mum, Dad, this is my good friend Harry Potter, of whom you've already heard. Harry, these are Jean and Dave Granger, my parents."

Dave shook Harry's hand, looking thoughtfully at the scrawny boy, who was wearing well-worn clothes at least one size too big. Harry didn't look too impressive, yet he knew Hermione liked him very much. Maybe there was something to this boy?

Jean ignored his hand and hugged him tightly, reminding him of Hermione's hugs whenever they met after a long separation. He now knew where she had learned those hugs. "I'm so glad to finally meet my daughter's crush," she said.

"Mum!" Hermione objected, her face turning red.

"Why? He is your crush, isn't he?" Jean asked, winking at Harry.

"Oh!..." Hermione huffed, but didn't contradict her mother.

With only their small backpacks, it was no trouble finding their way out of the busy train station and to the parking lot. Dave opened the door for his wife and then ushered the teens into the back seat. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he whispered into Harry's ear. The threatening tone was contradicted by a friendly slap on his shoulder and a wink, making Harry wonder what exactly was expected of him.

Hermione wasn't bothered, though. She cuddled into Harry as soon as they were seated, holding his hand tightly. Jean watched them through the front mirror and smiled to herself. Her daughter seemed to be getting what she wanted.

The Granger residence was a modest house, only a bit larger than the Dursley's but much warmer. The ground floor had a large family room, a combined kitchen-dining room, and medium sized study with many books and a computer. A guest bathroom and a spare room, which was mainly used for storage, completed that floor. The upper floor had four large bedrooms and the main bathroom.

Hermione's room was also full of books, as Harry expected. He was somewhat surprised that it was not pink and frilly like he had heard most girls liked. The room was painted off-white, with a few small paintings giving it a bit of color. The curtains were deep blue and the furniture was natural oak. The only pink in the room was a fluffy doll. "This used to be my most beloved toy since early childhood," Hermione confessed blushingly. "I've thrown away all the rest, but this one has a special meaning to me. Do you think it's childish?"

"I think it is very cute and not at all childish. Our past is a part of us, of who we are. We can't discard it, and keeping some mementos is quite natural," Harry said, wondering why he was answering in such a mature way. Was it Hermione's effect on him? He rather liked it.

Harry's room ("This is a guest room, but we rarely have anybody use it. My aunt, when she comes, usually stays in the other guest room," Hermione explained.) was about the same size and sported similar furniture. The curtains in it were deep green and there were only a few books on the shelves. "These are mostly my old books, ones I had no use for once I've gone to Hogwarts," Hermione told him.

They had dinner soon after settling in. Jean didn't bother much with cooking, though. She took some frozen Chinese food out of the freezer and heated in in the microwave oven, adding some vegetable salad. Harry liked it a lot. He had never eaten such food before and he enjoyed the unfamiliar tastes. The Dursley's would never even dream of taking any foreign food, nor using frozen ready-made food.

Harry was content listening to the Grangers talking. It was mainly Hermione telling about the school year. He noticed how furious she was about his name coming out of the goblet and about the way Ron had treated him afterwards. She then told them about the first task and how Harry had performed brilliantly in it. She skipped over asking Harry to be her date but elaborated about the dancing lessons and the Ball itself.

"I look forward to checking how good a dance teacher my daughter is," Jean told him. He wasn't looking forward to this, but he was confident enough now. He could pass this test, if it was really a test, that is.

Sitting in the family room for the after dinner tea, Hermione told them about her idea. "You see, by forcing Harry to compete as an adult, the Ministry has practically declared him an adult. I want to check this with Gringotts, and if I'm right, then Harry can leave his horrible relatives and never look back."

Harry winced at the mention of his relatives. He didn't really want to go into details about them. Hermione knew this and he saw Jean looking appraisingly at him, saying nothing. Dave seemed like he had some questions, but a sharp glance from his wife changed his mind.

They just watched television for the rest of the evening, with Hermione cuddling into Harry, despite Dave's glares. It was the first time Harry could watch TV in peace. Having Hermione at his side was making this experience much better. Jean also cuddled into Dave and both couples felt content.

It was much later, when Hermione was almost falling asleep on the shoulder of a very sleepy Harry, that Jean said, "I think it's time we retire to bed. Tomorrow we shall go to London. You can visit Gringotts while we do some shopping. Goodnight."

She bent down to kiss Hermione's forehead and then surprised Harry by doing the same with him. Before he could react, both elder Granger left the room.

"It looks like Mum really likes you," Hermione commented.

"I'd hope so," he said, trying to control his blushing.

"We should really go to bed as well," she said.

They mounted the stairs together and stopped in front of Hermione's room. "I'd like a goodnight hug," she said.

Harry hugged her, somewhat reluctantly, similar to the way he danced with her. Hermione hugged him back as tightly as she used to hug him after vacations. Harry's reluctance faded as the hug lengthened. He tightened his hold and pulled Hermione even closer, until her breasts were pressed into his front. She didn't seem to mind. She lifted her head to him and looked straight into his eyes. Harry felt as if she was asking him to kiss her. He could never deny her wish. Reluctantly, he lowered his head to hers, not really sure where he should kiss. Hermione turned her head slightly, capturing his lips with hers.

It was just a brief kiss, not much more than brushing their lips before their heads parted, yet their hug stayed firm. It took them a while to calm down. Hermione then said, "Goodnight, Harry," and released him, turning to the door of her room.

"Goodnight, dear," he answered, not quite aware of the words he was saying.

Hermione blushed some more but didn't turn back. She stepped into her room and closed the door, smiling to herself.

It took Harry some time to fall asleep. He was replaying their goodnight scene over and over in his head, trying to find what he was feeling towards Hermione and what kind of feelings she had towards him.

"Wake up, sleepy head," was the sound that greeted him as he was waking up. Hermione was standing near his bed, wearing her nightgown, which was clinging to her body, showing her assets in a way he had never expected. Even without his eyeglasses he saw more of Hermione than he thought appropriate, yet his body seemed to have a different opinion, raising a pole to salute her. He was thankful for the blanket that masked his condition, at least partially.

Hermione was quite aware of his reaction and considered it flattering. She bent down and kissed his lips lightly, exposing some of her cleavage in the process. "My parents are in the kitchen already. We should get dressed and join them," she said, before skipping out of his room.

'Not fair!' Harry thought, trying to calm his hormones down. He forced himself to think about Snape and the Potions lessons. It had the desired affect. He could now get out of bed without embarrassing himself.

The Grangers dropped the teens near the Leaky Cauldron and asked them to be there three hours later, when they intended to have lunch together. The weather was quite cold and Harry was thankful that he could use his cape to hide his famous scar and most of his face, which allowed him to reach Gringotts unnoticed, holding hands with Hermione, who was dressed similarly.

"I'd like to find if I have any assets here, except for my trust vault," he told the goblin teller.

"Your name?" the goblin asked without even raising his eyes.

"Harry Potter."

The goblin looked up. Harry thought he looked somewhat surprised, but he wasn't sure he could really read goblin expressions.

"Wait here, please. Your account manager will be here shortly," the teller said, dismounting his stool and going into a side door. He returned a moment later with an older goblin who was wearing very elegant clothes.

"I'm Sharptooth, your account manger, Lord Potter. Will you follow me to my office, please," the elder goblin said.

"Of course. Lead the way, please."

They found themselves in a large office with many shelves full of ledgers. Some weapons were displayed on the wall behind Sharptooth's desk and Harry had the feeling these were not mere decorations. The goblin looked at Hermione questioningly. "The information we're going to discuss is strictly private," he noted.

"That's fine. I trust Hermione with my life," Harry replied. "I don't mind her hearing everything. It would spare me telling her all the details."

"As you wish, Lord Potter," the goblin said.

"Why do you call me 'Lord Potter'? I'd rather you call me 'Harry'."

The goblin looked amused. "As the only living Potter, you inherited the position of Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, once you were recognized as an adult. You are now entitled to be called 'Lord' and to control your seats in the Wizengamot."

"Seats? You mean more than one?"

"Sure. The Potter house has merged with some of the other Ancient houses many generations ago. Once we do your ancestry test you'll see for yourself."

"What is it?"

"Just a formality, in your case." He took a piece of parchment and a small dagger. "Let your blood drop on the corner of the parchment. The cut will heal itself immediately."

Harry did as requested, noticing that the small cut healed within seconds, leaving no sign at all. Looking at the parchment, he saw it being filled with names connected with lines, creating as detailed a family tree as could fit on that large parchment.

"As expected, you have control of the Gryffindor, Peverell and Potter seats. You also have control of the Slytherin seat, which is a surprise. We've not done this test on a Potter for many generations, since each was introduced by his father. According to this parchment, Slytherin's granddaughter married a Peverell, later absorbed into the Potter line in an unbroken line of ancestry, unlike the Gaunt line, which was broken at least twice."

The goblin looked closer at the parchment. "Well, another surprise. Your mother, who didn't take this test, seems to be the only known magical descendant of Ravenclaw, making you the heir of Ravenclaw as well. Being heir to three of the four founders, you also have full control of Hogwarts."

Harry sighed. "That's all very nice, but do I have any money? If I want to exercise my rights as a Lord, I need at least enough to live on."

The goblin looked even more amused. "I only handle the Potter account, and I have my hands full. Don't you think there's some money in it?"

Harry shrugged. "There probably is, the way you say it, but I have not the slightest knowledge about it. Can you give me a brief overview, just so I know what we're talking about?"

The goblin frowned. "Hasn't your guardian shown you our quarterly and annual reports?"

"My uncle?"

"No, your magical guardian, who is Headmaster Dumbledore. We send all the reports to him since... well, since you've got that scar. If not earlier, he should have at least informed you once you reached Hogwarts."

It was Harry's time to frown. "I wonder what else he didn't tell me that he should..."

"Can you send everything to Harry now?" Hermione asked.

"Of course. The last quarterly report was sent before he became Lord Potter. Now he needs no guardian and we shall send everything directly to him," Sharptooth responded.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Can Dumbledore have some redirection charms to intercept mail sent to a particular student?" she asked.

"That's within his powers and within his authority as Headmaster. Yet we have means to assure delivery."

Sharptooth opened a drawer and took out what looked like a flat box, about the size of the folders used in his office. "Take this, Harry. It is a direct connection box. You will receive all our mail in this box and you may send your replies as well. Just check it every few days and take out whatever arrives, or it will be sent back when you close the lid."

Harry nodded understandingly. He was still overwhelmed at the revelation that he was actually rich. Well, he had known of his trust vault since first year and it did hold quite a large sum, large enough to make Ron jealous, but he had never thought of himself as rich. He looked at Hermione. She didn't seem to be so surprised. Had she known before? He would have to ask her later. Then there were the others. Was Ron his friend for a reason? Why had Malfoy offered his friendship before the sorting? Did Ginny want The boy Who Lived or The Boy Who Inherited? Still, he first needed some place to live.

"Do I own any houses or apartments? I want some place where I can live."