The Ghosts of Christmas Past

this is just a bunny nibble that hit me and i decided it was worth a shot. this will likely only be a one shot, because i just don\'t know how much time i have to give to this, plus four other fics. i hope you all enjoy it, despite the fact that it will be sad. the holidays seem to do that to me. please bear with me. i simply need to get it out of my system.

as usual, the characters are not mine. i\'m simply borrowing them for the duration of this story. they belong to j.k. rowling. so i thank her for giving me, and so many of us out there, the means to play with such lovely characters. i make no money from this. it is a labotr of love. please don\'t hurt me.

finally, feedback would be nice. feel free to let me know what you think. blessings

The Ghosts of Christmas Past
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The lights blinked cheerfully on the tree, sending colored sparkles shooting the glitter encrusted ornaments off into the darkened room. As usual, the towering pine tree was decorated festively. Balls and stained glass figures covered the tree, nestled among the thick branches. Multi-colored lights glowed and twinkled happily, making the white of the flocked needles shine in rainbow hues. Garlands in reds and greens, hints of gold accents on the edges of the shiny tinsel, rested on the tips of the tree boughs. It had been lovingly decorated by her children, as it always was. But it held no joy for her.

Christmas was a time of misery for her now, where it had once held joy. It was a time for the deepening sense of loneliness seemed to take a firmer grip on her. The season brought a mix of emotions. Happiness and sadness. Despair and longing. She looked over at the mantle, for the moment ignoring the low flames eating away at the thick log sitting on the grate in the hearth. Instead, her eyes went to the row of stockings hung there. There were five in all. The very smallest one in the center, two medium sized ones on either side. All three of them were flanked by two large stockings. Hers on the right and his on the left.

A tear trickled down her face at the sight of his stocking there. It was one of those plush looking ones. The boot part was a deep green, thick and soft. The top was furred, the silvery white emblazoned with his name in dazzling green glitter. Sighing, she drew a breath and closed her eyes. It was so hard to look at that stocking and not loose the grip she had on her emotions. Rowan and Ivy had been given the task of decorating and had insisted on putting up their father\'s stocking. She hadn\'t had the heart to tell them no.

Her attention turned back to the tree. It towered over her at nearly ten feet tall, the vaulted ceilings allowing for one even taller. She let her gaze travel over it slowly, knowing that he would have loved it. Even if he wouldn\'t have ever told her as much. One hand reached up to touch the shining silver ball that bore his name on it. Decorated with green glitter, it was simple and elegant. Just as he had been. A sob rolled up her throat, breaking the thin hold she\'d maintained on her emotions. The tears rolled out and slipped down over her cheeks unchecked.

The past year had been so very hard on her. She knew the children saw her sadness, but she couldn\'t seem to find a way to keep it from them. She did the best she could to take care of them and herself, but for the first two months, she\'d needed the help of her friends to simply get out of the bed in the morning. And they\'d all been there, offering her their support and sympathy. It had taken so much to simply find the will go on from one day to the next. And it had taken a very long time for her to be able to function without their help.

She was glad that the children were sleeping. It was Christmas Eve. It had been a year since she\'d last seen him. It had been nearly a year since she\'d received the letter. She hadn\'t thought she could feel any worse than she had when she\'d gotten the letter. But she did. She felt even worse now than she had when she\'d first gotten the notice. Her gaze strayed over the tree, stopping when she spied the ornament he\'d given her.

Near the top, where the lighted star sat, was a silver and gold filigree snowflake. It glittered and shown in the light. The center of the snowflake was actually a small glass ball. Inside it was a miniature version of the two of themselves, locked in an embrace. Their lips were pressed together, his hands clutching at her face while hers were planted firmly on his back. The tears fell harder as memories of that night bubbled to the surface.

The snow was falling in thick flakes, the ground covered in glittering white. The fire in the hearth was crackling merrily in the silence of the room. Rowan and Ivy were in bed, sleeping soundly and tucked under the heavy blankets to keep away the chills of the night. She reclined on the rug before the hearth, staring idly at the flames. A soft smile played about her lips as she thought on how the children would react to their gifts the following morning. A hand slip over her shoulder to graze gently across the soft, silken skin of her cheek.

\"Happy Christmas, wife,\" he drawled from behind her. She felt him settle down behind her and she inched back to press closer to him.

\"Happy Christmas, love,\" she replied, whispering the words to him. His arm curled around her, pulling her into the long length of his chest so that she was snuggled tightly against him. She could feel the slow, steady thud of his heart against her back. She turned to look up at him and offered him a smile.

\"I have something I wish to give you,\" he told her, his free hand lifting to present a brightly wrapped package to her. She frowned. He was obviously expecting an argument from her, as he spoke before she could. \"I know very well what the rules are, wife. But this is a special gift and I wanted to give it to you in privacy. Open it and do not dare contradict me.\"

\"Very well,\" she sighed, then took the box. It was wrapped in dark red paper, metallic looking and so dark that it could have been made from rubies. Silver ribbons secured it, a large curling bow on top of the box. She pulled the ribbons and bow from it first before attacking the paper. He watched her silently as she carefully removed the wrap, not wanting to destroy such beautiful paper. She heard his slight chuckle when she wrestled with a bit of tough tape and took a moment to elbow im in the ribs. Finally the paper fell away, dropping to the floor forgotten as she pulled the lid from the box.

Her fingers brushed aside the golden tissue paper inside to find the gift hidden within its crumpled folds. When she extracted the item, her breath stilled in her chest. She looked at the snowflake, her eyes full of joy and love and tears. The figures inside were perfect replicas of themselves, locked forever in an impassioned embrace. She turned to look him in the face, her smile broad and trembling. \"Oh, darling. Its simply wonderful.\"

\"Knowing that you, along with every woman in the world, is sentimental, I thought that this would be a perfect token of my affections for you,\" he said softly, giving her a very faint smile. She leaned forward, her mouth claiming his in a kiss of thanks. When she pulled back, she cradled the ornament lovingly in the palm of one hand. \"Shall we put it on the tree?\"

\"Of course,\" he nodded. He stood, getting to his feet in a singular, fluid motion before offering her a hand. She took it, putting her small one into his sure grip. He pulled her to her feet, bringing her body up against his a moment before stepping back and motioning her to the tree ahead of him. She stepped forward, searching on the cluttered tree for an open limb to hang the beautiful ornament upon.

When she stepped back to study its position, she ran into the long length of his frame. She felt his need for her pressing against her back. It sent a shudder of need through her system. His arms slipped around her as she turned to face him. Their lips met and pressed hungrily against one another while his hands lifted to curl over her shoulders. When she drew back from him, his eyes burned darkly with need. \"Take your clothing off, wife,\" he ordered softly.

\"But the children. They\'re...\" she protested. The look on his face allowed for no protests, so her hands lifted to the buttons on her shirt. He moved back one step, then stopped to watch her as she slowly shed her clothing. His eyes roved over her body as she exposed her pale skin to his hungry gaze. When she was shed the last article of clothing, her blue cotton and lace panties, he flicked one hand down to the floor to indicate she should lay on the rug before the fire.

When she was fully reclined on the thick carpet before the fire, his hands lifted to shed his own clothes. Her eyes grew darker, her need growing higher as he slowly pulled each garment he wore from his lithe body. She let her gaze rove over his body slowly, stopping to gaze hungrily at his pulsing erection. It jutted out proudly from the thatch of fur at his groin, an angry red color and weeping for her. She spread her creamy thighs in invitation. It was all he needed.

In two steps, he was looming up over her. She offered him a sultry smile, the kind of look that one found on the face of a well trained seductress, then beckoned him down to her with one hand. He dropped to his knees, moving between her splayed legs. Her back arched as he slid into her wordlessly, filling her with himself and stretching her to fit around his thick member. She moaned when he was fully seated within her, wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him closer to him. To urge him into her deeper. He looked down at her with a glint in his eyes, then drew his hips back to begin thrusting.

Time seemed to stop as he filled her time and again. Her breath came in short, panting gasps. His hands were planted on the floor, propping his torso up to keep his body off her and give him better leverage. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, digging deeply into his skin. Mewling sounds rolled up his throat as they worked in unison toward release.

Hips met hips as they both rocked into one another. Sweat beaded up and rolled off heated flesh. The flames painted their skin a reddish-gold color, the heat from the burning fire only adding to the heat of their passions for one another. Hands sought secret places, fingers manipulating sensitive skin. Sighs and moans filled the silence of the air as the Christmas tree glittered across them and the room. As their need grew, their rhythm increased and the sounds that came from their mouths intensified.

She felt his body swell within her, his erection growing and throbbing with the need to release. She felt her own body respond, her orgasm grown to an almost painful level. She wanted to fly apart, to tumble over the edge with him as they soared on the wings of their passions. She matched his pace, her hips arching up into his with an almost frantic need. She could feel it, the two of them teetering right on the verge. \"Now, please! I need you to fill me now!\" she panted in his ear.

His hips thrust forward sharply, twisting up to ensure he was fully inside of her. He balanced his weight on one hand, then brought the other one down to touch her between her thighs. When his finger touched her sensitive bud, she cried out. Her body let go and she felt a rush of pleasure flood through her. He pressed deeper into her and grunted loudly when he released his seed into her.

She held him close to her, her legs clamped tightly around him. When the small convulsions that rocked him stopped, he dropped down to lay on top of her. Her arms curled around his neck, her lips seeking out his own. The kiss was full of love and need, their tongues dueling each others for control. He pulled away finally and rolled to lay on his back on the rug beneath them, taking her with so that she lay tucked against his side. \"I love you,\" she whispered to him, sighing in content and basking in the afterglow of their glorious joining.

\"And I love you,\" he replied in her hair. She drifted off to sleep, feeling loved and sated and safe.

She pulled from the memory with a start, her fingers still touching the snowflake. Tears rolled down her cheeks rapidly as she shook. She\'d been woken that night when she\'d felt him pull away. When she\'d cleaned the sleep from her eyes, she\'d found him dressed and scowling over the piece of paper in his hands. She\'d never even gotten a word out. She\'d barely managed to pull her shirt back on before he was dragging her into his arms to kiss her. He\'d told her he would see her soon, then had been gone into the black night.

The letter had come the next day. She\'d been numb for a moment or two, then had crumpled into a heap on the floor. The sobs had hurt as they\'d wracked her body, the parchment crumpled between her hands. She\'d never noticed the hands lifting her, never noticed them carrying her to her room or placing her on the bed. She\'d never heard the voice whispering over her. She\'d simply been lost in a flood of pain and loss.

She\'d stood by herself at the funeral, Rowan and Ivy clutching at her hands as they\'d listened to people they didn\'t know drone on about their dead father. The gathering at their house after the fact was nothing more than a blur. She didn\'t recall a single thing that had happened. She knew that for days afterward, she\'d not been left alone. First had been Ron, who had told her with his gentle naïveté that everything would be alright. Ginny had been next, who had simply held her when she\'d cried until her throat had been raw and her eyes had felt gritty. Her parents had been there, as well as Dumbledore and McGonagall. Finally had been Harry.

Harry had simply held her and offered her his silent strength. He hadn\'t tried to tell her things would be fine, that it would all come right. He\'d known better, had known what it meant to lose someone you loved and he\'d known that it would never get better. He\'d simply told her that the pain would lessen in time. And she\'d known he was right. So she\'d let him sit and hold her and offer her what comfort he could.

She\'d found new purpose when she\'d discovered that she was pregnant again. His very last gift to her. It had been the sick feeling that had alerted her to something being wrong. When she\'d found out, she\'d been shocked and happy and sad all at once. The very last of September had seen their third child brought kicking and screaming into the world. A boy named Tristan that took after his father in looks right from the start. Her baby boy brought joy and pain to her heart every time she looked at him.

She stepped away from the tree, deciding it was time to seek her own bed. Rowan and Ivy had been terribly hyper all day long, waiting anxiously for Father Christmas to come. It had been a trial to simply get them to bed. Now, she was mentally and physically exhausted and wanted nothing more than to seek out the solace of her own bed. She made sure to cover the bank the fire, the flames now dies out. She unplugged the tree, giving it one last look in the crisp white moonlight that poured over it from the large picture window, feeling the sadness sink deeper into her bones, before turning to make her way silently to her bed.

~*~*~*~*~

Childish squeals woke her from a sound, dreamless sleep. There was an echoing rumble of laughter, deep and masculine, that caught her attention. Struggling from her bed, she found her dressing gown and slid it on over her night gown. Tucking her feet into warm slippers, she shuffled from the room and down the stairs. Her hair was disheveled and sleep still clung to her eyes as she entered the vast drawing room where the tree and gifts were located.

Rowan and Ivy were buried in the tattered remains of the presents, torn and shredded paper strewn about the room haphazardly. Smiles of joy and excitement were plastered to their faces as they each played with some new toy for a moment before moving on to the next. The tree was once again lit, the lights twinkling madly amidst the simple and real joy brought on by the children\'s happieness.

She frowned, puzzled. She\'d thought she\'d heard masculine laughter. But there was no one in the room other than her son and daughter. She stood there a moment longer, watching the two joyfully destroy the paper that hid their gifts. A faint smile curled up her lips as they tore and shredded the colorful paper to get at the toys beneath it.The hand on her shoulder startled her. She turned and stared, her eyes going wide in surprise. She nearly faltered. His hand curled around her arm to hold her up. She noticed that Tristan was nestled in the crook of his other arm. \"But... how?....\"

\"Is that all you have to say to me, wife?\" he asked, a brow arching up slowly.

\"You\'re dead,\" she whispered, her mouth trembling with the threat of tears. \"I was at your funeral.\"

\"You were at a funeral. Not mine. As you can see,\" he motioned to himself. \"I am very much alive. Are you not happy to see me?\"

\"I missed you,\" she said, sobbing softly as tears of disbelief and joy slipped down over her cheeks.

\"And I missed you,\" he replied, dragging her into a one-armed embrace. She clutched at him, careful not to squish Tristan between them. \"You look a fright, wife.\"

She smiled, then laughed, her body shaking with with her happy laughter. \"And I love you, Severus.\"

\"Happy Christmas, Hermione,\" he whispered into her ear, planting a kiss on her cheek. Together, the two of them turned to face the two children on the floor who were busy opening the last of their gifts. She smiled, glad to see her family back together again. It was, indeed, a very happy Christmas.

fin
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alright, i\'ll admit. this wasn\'t going to originally have a happy ending. but i\'m such a sentimental sap. forgive me for being so mushy.