Berti didn't abide much by CD players, nor the discs that went in them. Henry had been the one who loved music. It was he who had accumulated their collection of music. That was one of the many little things that still caught at Berti when she wasn't prepared for it, walking by his stack of CDs and seeing the film of dust on them. It seemed all of yesterday and a lifetime ago. Six years. Six compared to so many when he'd been there. She'd grieved and continued living. The loss of Henry was a hollow in her soul, but she had children and grandchildren… she had life to live yet. In general, every day was easier than the day before. But the CDs still got to her now and then, like his empty side of the bed made it fresh every morning, and the pastures empty of all but lonely old Antigone screamed his absence.

But at Christmas, Berti brushed off the dust on player and discs to put in Hermione's favorite Christmas albums. It was tradition, and affinity for tradition and order had passed nearly undiluted from Henry to Miranda to Hermione. Now most of these holiday staples were for precious Hermione, as Christmas naturally bequeathed itself to children. Every year the house was filled with music before Hermione came through the door, greeted by her most beloved Christmas songs and her grandmother's open arms.

Music was ousting the ghosts of a quiet house, and Berti began to wander past the frost-framed front windows, watching for Miranda and Jake's car. So far, she had looked out only on the snow-covered grounds that spread out from Agincourt.

And finally, on one pass, she saw the familiar car coming down the road. Berti smiled and went to the door. The snow suggested it would be colder than it truly was, for at the moment there was no wind to carry the crisp winter through the threads of the most tightly-woven garments. Berti was warm enough merely donning an old cardigan over her regular clothing. She stepped out on to the porch and was waiting where she always did as the car pulled up in front of the house.

As always, Hermione was the first one out of the car and rushing up to meet her on the porch. Every time it took Berti's breath, just how beautiful Miranda's daughter was. Hermione grew lovelier every day. She had everything that made Miranda a treasure, the best parts of Jake, and then a few amazing things all her own. Not a child anymore, though… there was no kidding herself that Hermione had not become a young woman. A beautiful, vibrant woman.

"Gram!" Hermione called, all smiles and bright eyes and wonderfully wild hair and rosy cheeks from the cold, as she rushed up the steps and threw her arms around Berti.

Berti caught the girl in a reciprocal embrace and squeezed. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Gram." Hermione stepped back and beamed up at her. Berti touched Hermione's cheek then turned her eyes to the car as the rest of the family piled out. Miranda waved and grinned and Jake twisted at the waist to crack his back after the drive. And lastly, a certain dark-haired boy from last summer got out of the backseat of the car and stretched.

Interesting.

"Mum," Miranda said as she scaled the shallow steps porch to give Berti a hug. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, dear. Delighted you could make it. Jake! Get up here to get what's coming to you this instant."

Jake chuckled and obeyed. When he had joined them on the porch Berti gave Jake just what he was due… a good hug. "It's good to see you again, Berti. You look well."

"Well enough, well enough. I take it things are good with you?"

"Can't complain. But things will be even better once I've had a cup of your tea."

"Well, don't you worry about that; it's on the stove even now keeping warm for you." Berti caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked past Jake to see that Harry had quietly approached and now stood at the foot of the steps, doing his best not to intrude. That elusive little dog of his was next to him but looking one direction then another, maybe listening for something furry to chase.

Berti glanced at Hermione, still close to her right side. The girl was very aware of Harry on the fringe of the family reunion. It didn't take a genius.

"I see you've come back, Harry."

"Um, yes, ma'am."

Then there was a tugging on her cardigan, and Berti hardly needed to look to know it was Hermione seeking her attention; the girl had done the same since she was tall enough to reach Berti's shirt… and before that, it was a skirt or pant leg. She looked down and Hermione's face was upturned to meet her gaze, her expression bright as the sun reflecting off untouched snow. "Harry's my boyfriend now, Gram."

"Oh, really? Boyfriend, you say." Berti looked slyly back to the boy in question. Harry blushed and looked away bashfully. Miranda had been right on all counts about this Harry boy, he was adorably shy. But it would seem not too shy to have the sense to ask Hermione to honor him with her affections.

"If that's the case, then best get up here, young man," Berti said mock-sternly.

Harry did as told and when he'd come close enough Berti caught him up in a hug. "Dreadfully sorry, Harry, but once you take to kissing one of my girls you're required to submit to hugs."

Harry stammered unintelligibly as he relented to the old woman's brief embrace. When he was released Jake put his hand on the boy's shoulder in a show of solidarity. "She's right on that count, son, I've been privileged to rate Berti hugs from the time I first started dating Miranda."

"You're a real sweet talker, Jake. Now, come on in out of the cold, all of you. You can bring in your luggage and packages after you've warmed yourselves."

"I need to go get Crookshanks," Hermione stated at the invitation to go inside, "he's still in the backseat of the car."

"I'll get him," Harry offered.

"You'll have to carry him; he hates to get his feet wet in the snow."

"I know. I'll just be a second." Harry turned back to the car and trudged through the layer of snow coating the ground to retrieve the cat. The Chihuahua bounded along beside him, up to her belly in the snow but undeterred.

"Your cat approves of Harry?" Berti mused aloud, "Well, that's a sure sign of a good match. This Harry bloke may be a keeper when it's all said and done."

"Gram," Hermione said with an eye roll, but she was smiling even as she would seem to scold her grandmother.

"What? Animals are good judges of character, honey, it's a known fact. And naturally, his dog adores you."

Hermione smiled sweetly, that same kind of smile Miranda used to brandish when she and Benedick were sneaking treats from the kitchen. "His pet likes me."

"But of course she does. Good judges of character. Come on, enough standing about out here, let's go inside. We'll have a spot of tea to warm the lot of you up after your trip. We'll leave the door open for Harry."

Berti, Miranda, Jake, and Hermione trooped into the house and congregated in the kitchen, drawn just as much by the aroma of tea as Berti's herding gestures. Berti was pouring tea while the Granger family found seats at the table. Just as Berti was passing out steaming cups Harry came in with the fluffy ginger cat in his arms. The dog was nowhere to be seen, but Berti had noticed last summer that the dog had a habit of disappearing, seemingly into thin air for as stealthy as she was about it, only to reappear later none the worse for wear. The missing dog didn't give her any cause to worry.

"Here," Harry moved over to where Hermione was sitting and passed the cat to her. Crookshanks curled contently on Hermione's lap, looking relieved to be in out of the cold.

"Thanks, Harry. I saved you a seat." And she certainly had, the one right next to hers, in fact. Harry smiled and sat down.

When everyone had a drink Berti sat down with her family. She wrapped her hands appreciatively around the warm porcelain and took a sip from her cup, steamy vapors curling past her face and drifting up her nose. The first taste on her tongue was full of memories. It tasted like Christmas. She only spiced it this way at Christmas, had every year since the first year she'd been married to Henry and tea had been very nearly the most they could afford to spend on Christmas treats. Those had been some of the best years, until the children were born.

"Mmmm…" Jake hummed appreciatively as he drank the steaming beverage. "This alone was worth the trip. You're a magician, Berti."

Harry made an odd face at that, but Berti had fielded that particular Jake Granger compliment before. "And a fairy and a gnome and Saint Nick's wife, too, while I'm at it. Why not?"

"Why not?" Hermione replied with a giggle, and Harry was smiling again. The boy caught on fast, that much could be said for him. But then, Berti didn't figure Hermione to go for a dunderhead.

Miranda looked around the kitchen after enjoying a taste or two of the family traditional holiday drink. "So I take it Ben won't be able to make it this year."

"Unfortunately, no," Berti answered. "He and his wife are spending the holidays with her parents again this year."

"It's been a long time since he's come home for Christmas…" Miranda said a bit sadly of her brother's absence. Once, Miranda and Benedick had been very close, thick as thieves, as Henry liked to say. It was a sad thing to see an ocean distancing the siblings.

Berti nodded grimly that Miranda would point out right off her missing brother. She'd noticed that, too. "Yes, and I'd hoped they might fly in this year since it has been so long since he's been here to spend Christmas with us. But flying the five of them across the pond for the holiday wouldn't be easy or particularly affordable. He called the other day, apologized for not being able to come, and I told him I understand. He promised he'll try to make it next year." For all the likelihood that held of coming to pass. She could see on her daughter's face that Miranda's was entertaining similar thoughts. Berti didn't especially care for dreary talk on such a happy holiday. Time to change to the direction of the conversation. "But just as well the Americanized branch of the Richardson family couldn't be here, because where would we put everyone? Miri, you and Jake will be in your old room, same as every year. Hermione, you can bed down in Uncle Ben's room…" she turned to the newest addition to the family Christmas. "Harry, would it trouble you terribly to sleep on the couch?"

"Not at all. That'll be just fine, Missus Richardson."

"Wonderful. It's settled then. And ugh," Berti made a bitter face, "'Missus Richardson'… so dreadfully formal, and at Christmastime in my own house, too. Must be something we can do about that. That kind of formality might have been well and good for a summer visit, before you were dating our sweet Hermione, but that just won't do for Christmas with your girlfriend's family."

Back was the blush she'd gotten used to seeing on the poor boy during his and Hermione's summer stay whenever she gave him a good teasing. Jake had never been so prone to turn shades of scarlet like Harry was, and Berti knew, she'd tried.

Miranda laughed. "We've had Harry take to calling Jake and me by our given names. That's gone over pretty well. He's almost past slipping up and calling us 'Mister and Missus Granger', too." Miranda looked to Harry with a playful smile. Harry again blushed slightly but smiled in kind.

"Hmmm… there's a thought. Roberta. Berti." She shook her head after a moment thinking over that possibility. "Oh, that's a bit strange given the age gap." Then she had the solution. Quite simple, really. "Looks as though you'll just have to call me Gram like Hermione does, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened and his lips parted, as though stuck on a trapped word that wouldn't form.

"Think you can manage it?" Berti asked.

Harry closed his mouth, swallowed, and nodded, "Sure… if you really want me to."

"I think it's the best choice. You know, I'm of that grandmotherly age, and it would seem queer to have Hermione call me one thing and you another, don't you agree?" Berti turned the idea over in her head a few times to test out the edges. "Yes, I think that will work. Young people in my house should call me Gram, I think."

Jake pouted. "Then why haven't you asked me to call you Gram?"

It was a blatant tease, and it made everyone laugh. Even Harry chuckled and shared an amused look with Hermione.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, Jake, but you're not that young."

"You wound me, Berti," Jake returned, but it was all in fun, and it seemed to put Harry at ease. Berti had a good laugh, just as much for having a full and merry house again as for Jake's familiar funning. She did so love Christmas.

When she had her composure fully back, Berti asked, "Would anyone care for some biscuits to go with their tea?" Then Berti watched. It was a holiday ballet, though the star dancer didn't realize she had center stage. Berti saw Miranda cut a very amused, knowing look toward her daughter in silent anticipation. Miranda knew this Christmas waltz, too.

As if on cue, Hermione fidgeted in her seat. It was the start, the first of step of the dance. It made the elder woman smile. Berti cherished her predictable, adorable little granddaughter, positively cherished her.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, picked up her mug only to set it down without drinking, and darted her eyes from one parent to the other. She finally could stand it no longer. "Don't you think we should go pick out a tree before it gets too late in the day?"

Jake hid a smile behind his hand.

"Just… wouldn't want all the good ones to be gone and be stuck with the tatty, browned ones." Hermione appealed to the others at the table with a plaintive expression, one that no one in the room could deny, so far as Berti knew. She couldn't be certain about Harry, but she had a feeling.

"Oh, no," Jake countered, "that wouldn't do at all."

Hermione brightened hopefully.

Miranda finally gave in and laughed. "You don't even want a bite of lunch before heading back out?"

Hermione's expression set in a determined scowl, though she made a concerted effort to sound reasonable rather than insistent. "I suppose we could. But we did have a big breakfast… I'm not even really hungry yet, honestly."

Miranda looked across at Jake, her husband's eyes glittering because he knew this tradition, too, and she gave him a surrendering smile and head tick of assent.

"Okay, okay," Jake held up his hands, "you've talked me into it. Far be it from me to ruin Christmas by dooming the lot of us to a tatty, brown tree."

Hermione grinned and was up out of her seat in a flash. Crookshanks, practically dumped on the floor when his mistress stood abruptly, landed lightly on the floor on all four paws, yowled in protest, and padded off, offended to the height of his feline haughtiness.

"Would you like to come tree-hunting with us, Harry?" Jake asked as he got up from the table, at a much calmer pace than his daughter.

"Oh! Do, Harry, it's so much fun!"

"Yeah, all right." Harry smiled up at Hermione and she eagerly tugged on his arm. The boy looked fit to consent to any manner of outing if it was with Hermione. She could probably have suggested dumpster-diving and gotten just as willing partner in the young man. Harry's little dog turned up, at just the right moment as usual, and waited patiently with tail wagging. Seemed there would be four of them going on this little sojourn. Harry did take that dog everywhere, and the perky little animal knew that like it was a right.

"Still room in the car for more," Jake offered.

Berti chuckled. "I'll leave this very important mission in Hermione's very capable hands, I think. She has my utmost confidence."

Hermione beamed proudly, looking every bit the entrusted protégé of a great master going it solo for the first time.

"Miri?"

"You three go on ahead; I'll stay with Mum and get lunch started. You may not be hungry now, but by the time you get back I'll wager you will be."

With Hermione at the head of the trio, pulling Harry after her in her enthusiasm with the Chihuahua hot on their heels as Jake brought up the rear, the group of tree-seekers left mother and daughter alone in the kitchen.

In the ensuing quiet of the house, Berti looked to her daughter. Miranda was smiling gently to herself, her eyes on the place her family had just been. "Pence for them?" Berti prompted.

Miranda just barely shook her head. "Just thinking."

About how Christmas brings out the boy in your husband. About your daughter fit to burst with glee and merriment for this special holiday as if there were not a care in the world beyond the perfect tree. How there are moments when everything can seem perfect. How time stopped for Christmas and held that moment in time for days, magical and enchanted with lights and trees and family. That smile on Miranda's lips had been Berti's once; she knew the wonders of Christmas from a wife and mother's perspective all too well.

Berti reached out and patted Miranda's arm. "We best get to that lunch; no doubt the kids will be ravenous by the time Hermione's found the perfect Christmas tree."

Miranda chuckled and stood to help her mother with the meal.

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Harry had wended through many a forest with Hermione, but none quite like this. He'd never been to a Christmas tree lot before, though Hermione seemed to know them like a native forest sprite. He stepped between the rows and clusters of pine trees and breathed in deeply. It smelled of the woods, but without the lacings of other tree species or the hint of fauna making their homes in the branches. Also missing in this artificial forest was the carpet of shed foliage underfoot, or the sense of perfect anarchy to where the trees chose to rise tall and strong from the ground. This was a new woodland, and it was pleasant in its own unique way. He thought Hedwig might have liked to see this kind of man's forest if he hadn't sent her to Ron's for the duration of their time at Berti's.

The jaguar inside him stirred. The promise of a forest called to it, but Harry banished the cat back to the secret places within him where the animal dwelled. It obeyed, but not before Harry was touched with its untamed fire. It woke enough for the manmade forest to awaken him to the desire for real trees stretching before him with ground untrod by human feet beneath his paws.