It was nearly midnight. The house had been quiet for hours, her parents and grandmother had gone to bed well over two hours ago, and Hermione had been lying in bed staring at the ceiling in restless anticipation since the moment her head hit the pillow. Harry's hushed words still rang in her ears, 'let's meet in Avalon'. It had raced right down her spinal column, paused a moment to pool achingly in the pit of her stomach, and made her toes curl. He'd been a bit of the jaguar when he said it, Hermione could tell from his voice and his forwardness in public and the look on his face. It did dangerous, maddening things to her when her boyfriend was part wild animal. He was... sexier when he was touching the jaguar. It was silly, but true. And just then, Hermione wanted absolutely nothing more than to be the lioness to his black jaguar.

Soon, she would be.

It was making her heart race, waiting to meet him. But she couldn't sneak out just as soon as she went into her bedroom. What if her mother or father popped in for some reason? She had to give the others in the house time to fall asleep. So as she waited, she did what Hermione Granger did best. She thought.

Her hours of research into animagi were proving more useful than she'd expected. She wasn't worried about getting caught by the ministry for her and Harry turning into their animagus forms outside of Hogwarts grounds. When she was trying to find something they could do during the summer without using magic she'd been really intent on that aspect of the possible options. She became almost lawyer-like in examining the actual mechanics of how much magic would be used and how, and how it could circumvent ministry rules. The devil was in the details, as they said, but it made Hermione smarter on ministry standards of magical application than she'd been before. Ministry of Magic underage detection spells were triggered by the emission of magic by underage witches and wizards. Animagi transformations consisted completely of internally focused magic. Nothing was outwardly affected by the change, only the witch or wizard. If magic was not actually emitted, there was nothing for the ministry to detect. There were so few forms of magic that were entirely internal, and even fewer of them that underage witches and wizards were capable of performing, that the ministry had never bothered trying to set up any spells to catch them being done by children. That didn't worry her. Of course, Harry hadn't known that when he suggested it, but then the jaguar tended to make him braver, more the warrior inside than he usually let show.

The thought caught Hermione in the gut and made her squirm. She had always known the strength Harry hid behind that self-effacing, shy exterior of his, but to see it come out... quite frankly, it made her want him. It made her want to throw caution to the wind and be that cavalier with him. The two of them racing headlong and free. The demons of Harry's past could not catch them when they were beyond human. Hermione believed that in some animal part of her. The bad guys wouldn't know how to find them; they were looking for a fifteen-year-old boy with a scar and a wand.

Hermione turned on her side and looked at her clock. Midnight. She'd been waiting for the hour for the simple fact she did not think she could wait longer than that. Quietly she slipped out of bed in the dark and went to her closed door. She stood silently and listened. She wished she could touch the lioness and borrow her hearing. She would have turned, but it seemed too risky to be the lioness in her grandmother's house. Her entire life she'd been hiding her magic from her grandmother; old habits died hard.

Hermione scarcely breathed as she strained to hear any sounds of wakefulness outside her door. All was perfect quiet.

Had Harry already slipped the house? No doubt he would have used the backdoor. Was he waiting for her in Avalon, a regal black beast with blue eyes and searing intensity?

Only one way to find out.

Hermione dressed in the dark, shrugged into a jacket and slipped on her trainers, and crept to her bedroom window. Snow had rimmed the panes and frost glazed the glass. It promised to be cold outside. Hermione could have done without that; the lioness wasn't a winter animal. It liked the sun and dry grass underfoot. But neither was Harry's jaguar a snowbound creature; it was built for the jungle. They could both put up with the weather. Being the cats felt too good to be deterred by something as insignificant as snow.

Hermione carefully slid open the window. A gust of cold air, laced with swirling snowflakes, hit her in the face. Soldiering on, Hermione crawled out the window and dropped down to the ground. Wet snow soaked her trainers and the cold wrapped around her like an icy shawl. Hermione pulled her jacket tighter around her and looked around. Her eyes were adjusted to the dark already, and in truth her room had been even darker. The moon was full and cast plenty of light by which to see. The snow was spun silver and the sky black but for the faint shining rings of light that rippled out from the white moon. The stars were twinkling brilliantly, winter stars, the brightest of all. Hermione's breath made a cloud in front of her face. Her nose was already going numb.

But she moved on. She would know the way to Avalon in her sleep, though admittedly she knew it best when her starting point was the barn. But she knew Harry would not have gone that way. She would have to trust her intimate familiarity with her grandparents' farm to guide her; Harry would have touched the jaguar for his trek through the night. After what Harry had told her happened at the zoo with the lions, Harry would know better than to go near Tiggy when he was letting out part of the jaguar. The last thing they needed would be the mare screaming bloody murder and waking the entire house.

Hermione started forward through the snow, bound for the distant black trees of the forest. She wondered if Harry had already left or was he still waiting inside the house to make his own escape. Shortly, her question was answered. She found a path of footprints in the snow. With a smile, Hermione followed them. She placed her feet where he'd placed his. It would make covering their tracks easier to only brush away one set of tracks instead of two. She had to noticeably lengthen her stride to put each foot in the impression left by his.

It seemed she walked in the darkness alone for hours before she reached the trees. She glanced up and saw their ebony shadow blotting out the stars, branches outlined grey-green by the moon's glow. Hermione looked back down and continued to follow Harry's steps.

She stopped and smiled when his prints went from man to animal, footprints to paw prints. Hermione flipped her consciousness. Where Harry touched the jaguar, bled into the beast like he was a potion smoothly changing color, Hermione found herself likening her own change to a sock being turned inside-out. On one side witch, the other lioness. Hermione's center of gravity changed and pulled her down; she met the ground easily with a paw.

The night erupted around her in sounds and sights and smells. Hermione ruffled her mane and set off at a trot, still following Harry's tracks. She could smell the trace of his scent in them. He'd been here not long ago. That made her tail flick at the end and her ears perked alertly for early signs of him.

She had never seen Avalon before as she saw it now through lion eyes. It was crystallized wonder. The trees were naked and painted with icicles. The snow on the ground sparkled like some frolicking child had tossed glitter over it. The pond was iced over and palely reflected the moon. Hermione looked around. He was here, she knew it, sensed it, felt it.

A tiny noise behind her. Hermione's ears swiveled backward to catch the sound, but she had no time to turn and look before a large black cat had pounced on her. Hermione made a sound of greeting and glee and playfulness all in one as she was tackled into the snow. Harry was black as the night sky, eyes ice like the pond, scar white like the snow. He might not be a beast of the winterlands, but he looked well enough a part of them.

Harry tussled with Hermione on the ground. They tumbled a few times, paws swatting and bodies used as leverage, and within seconds they were both damp with snow. Hermione's mane was soggy with melted snow, which she didn't care for much, but when Harry's face came in close and she licked his muzzle she tasted snowflakes. That she did like.

Harry leapt off of her and stood back a pace, giving her a chance to regain her feet as he waiting eagerly, eyes intent and the tip of his tail twitching.

Hermione rose and feinted as though to try dodging him. Harry jumped to one side to block her then stopped and watched her closely. Hermione swatted a paw in his direction and sent a clump of snow flying at his face. Harry started, ears back and eyes closed, as the snow found its target.

Hermione mewled merrily and shook droplets of water from her mane.

Harry peered at her through patches of stuck snow... then he charged.

Hermione whirled and fled.

She led him once around the small pond before he caught her. He jumped and caught her around the hindquarters with his front legs and brought her to the ground. Hermione did not have time to react before he was straddling her and he'd taken the skin on the back of her neck between his teeth. A thrill of excitement coursed through her veins and she bared her teeth.

Then Harry was ripped off of her, twisting in the air and screaming in both surprise and fury as he was flung a short distance away. He landed with a solid 'thump' and sprang back to his feet, unhurt but spitting mad. Hermione jumped up and looked around for what had happened...

Only to see a diminutive house elf in thermal boxers standing in the trees and lowering her hand.

Hermione was indignant at first, senselessly frustrated and mad, but then the part of her mind forever witch snapped her back to reason. And to whom the intruder was.

Hermione hastily transformed back to human and squeaked, "Kimmy!"

Kimmy looked reproachfully at Hermione. "Just what does Miss Hermione and Mister Harry Potter thinks they are doing?"

Hermione glanced back at Harry. He was still the jaguar, feet braced apart as he leveled a glare at Kimmy. He tore his eyes from Kimmy to glance up at Hermione. "Harry..." she implored.

Harry started coming closer. Somewhere between where he'd been thrown and Hermione's side he became wizard again. His hair was drenched and an awful mess but he still looked rather peeved at Kimmy for tossing him like a rag doll.

Kimmy was unimpressed by Harry's displeasure. "Kimmy sees the animaguses have found you both."

"Uh... yeah..." Hermione stammered, "I'm so sorry, we should have told you..."

Kimmy huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Kimmy is not being mad about not being told. Whats were you thinkings?!"

"Why did you throw me?" Harry asked, annoyed. Hermione glanced at him, astounded he could still be upset when they quite likely had bigger problems on their hands.

"Yous told Kimmy animaguses was for Mister Harry Potter's safety. Your animaguses are for a very serious purpose, not for play!"

"You helped Headmaster Dumbledore and his brother become animagi just for fun," Harry countered caustically.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, and she turned to Kimmy. The little elf looked betrayed. Hermione dropped to her knees in the snow and studied the house elf. "You're right, Kimmy, that's why we asked you to help us learn how to be animagi. That's why we became animagi. Harry and I were just... we spend time in our animagus forms learning how our cat bodies move, figuring out just what we can do in our animal forms. We need to know how far we can push our limits if we ever have to fight You Know Who."

"Kimmy's thinking you won't be doing that to You Know Who."

Hermione felt herself blush beet red. At least it warmed her face up a bit, to look on the bright side of things.

"Learning how it is being cats isn't bad," Kimmy said in a slightly calmer voice, "but it's very bad to sneak off and try to give Kimmy the slip! Kimmy's here to protect you, but she can't do that if yous are going to be running off. Bad people could find you, even here."

Hermione blanched. She hadn't even thought of that, but of course Kimmy was absolutely right. She didn't want to think it possible that Death Eaters or even Voldemort himself would show up at her grandmother's house, but there was always the chance, the very reason Kimmy was with them.

"Maybe we can take care of ourselves," Harry answered, though by the sound of his voice he'd calmed down somewhat.

Kimmy looked up at Harry, unruffled. "Kimmy knows how it is. The animal gets in your thinking, but what you think isn't really being true. Death Eaters can curse a cat just as they can curse a boy."

Hermione's heart went cold for a moment at the thought. How had she not even thought of that? She thought of everything. She should have seen the folly in trying to pull the wool over everyone's eyes, including Kimmy's. How foolish had they been to evade their own protector? Stupid. Stupid and reckless.

"We weren't thinking, and for that we're very sorry. We'll never leave without you again, Kimmy, we promise," Hermione said.

Kimmy turned her gaze back at Hermione, seemed to measure the sincerity of her words, then she glanced up at Harry. What she saw must have been convincing enough, because the house elf nodded. "That's good." Kimmy cocked her head at them both, "Yous two are being a real soggy mess," she said and she snapped her fingers. The water in their clothes and hair and on their skin evaporated away in a pleasant heating charm. In a matter of seconds they were dry. The winter night was much less biting when she wasn't sopping wet, Hermione noted gratefully. Kimmy cast a similar spell to melt away the cat prints in Avalon.

"We should be going back to the house now," Kimmy said, and without giving them a chance to argue she turned back into a dog and led the way into the surrounding trees, in the direction of the house.

Hermione glanced over at Harry. He met her eyes then surrendered with a half-shrug. He stepped forward, took her hand, and together they set off after the Chihuahua. Hermione sidled closer to Harry for the warmth and comfort his body provided as they left the moonlit sanctum of Avalon behind.

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From the dubious safety of the kitchen, the adults peered out into the living room with worrisome looks on their faces. Miranda shook her head and whispered to her companions, "He'll never hold out. He's going to crack."

"Harry," Hermione said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, "put that wreath above the window. Make sure it's straight. The largest holly goes on the very bottom."

"All right." Harry grabbed the green and red wreath in question and dutifully took it to the window.

"He's been at it for five hours straight. That's inhuman," Jake remarked. When Hermione turned from her task of decorating the tree Jake ducked back, lest Hermione catch sight of him and snare him in a sudden moment of domineering, yuletide inspiration.

"The poor boy," Berti said somberly as she oversaw the baking of her holiday treats.

"How's that?" Harry asked as he inspected the hung wreath above the window.

"Tilt it just a tad to the left. No, not quite that far. Perfect! Now could you come help me with this string of lights? I'm afraid I'll cross the racers and that would just look all wrong; I need someone to hold it out from the next row of lights down while I find a branch that will do on the other side of the tree."

"Sure." Harry went over to Hermione and held the string of lights as instructed.

"No one can take this much at once," Jake bemoaned. "He's valiant to try, but this is our Hermione we're talking about. She can break the strongest of men without breaking a sweat."

"He's just a boy," Miranda breathed in horror.

"Can you give me any more slack on your end?"

"I'll see... how's that?"

"Great, hold it there."

"We should do something," Berti offered up in a hushed tone of voice.

Jake and Miranda looked miserably at one another, but in complete agreement.

"Go, Jake."

"Me?! But..." he looked at his wife and his shoulders sagged. "Yes... yes, you're right. Once more into the breech," Jake took a breath and moved toward the living room. It was bedecked in holiday splendor. The tree was decorated with lights and multi-colored glass balls and tinsel. Garland wrapped every conceivable target in sight. An elaborate, exquisitely detailed nativity scene was set up on the top of a china cabinet. Lights surrounded windows and doorways. The mantel sported three ceramic reindeer and a cherubic little elf with pointy ears and dressed in red and green. Jake thought 'if only they knew' as Kimmy, in Chihuahua form, circled the activities around the tree. Brightly wrapped presents were stacked off to one side near the couch, awaiting a completed tree to rest beneath. Open boxes of decorations were everywhere, half of them already empty. Harry and Hermione were adding the last string of twinkling lights to the tree. Any more lights and they would have airplanes landing in the pasture. Hermione was stretching to reach the branch she'd set her sights on; Harry was craning around the full limbs to watch her as he held the string in place as she requested.

With a hooking toss Hermione lassoed the branch she sought and the string held in place. She stepped back in satisfaction. "There! You can let go the string, Harry, I think that's going to do it." Hermione stepped back to inspect the tree, returned to grab Harry's arm and draw him back to stand a pace away with her, and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think it's really pretty."

"We won't really be able to tell if we're missing any spots until it gets dark, but if you squint your eyes you can get an idea what it will look like." Hermione squinted at the tree, looking like she was trying to win a grade-school scowling contest with it. Harry laughed then followed her example, making his eyes little more than slits as he looked at the Christmas tree. Hermione's hands were still wrapped around Harry's arm, and she gave it a squeeze and pat of approval then opened her eyes back up. "Well, next comes the tree skirt... I'll go fetch it."

"Okay."

When Hermione left Harry's side Jake saw his chance. He darted in, came up behind Harry, and touched the younger man on the shoulder. When Harry turned his head Jake said in a quiet voice, "I can spell you if you want, son."

Harry looked up at him, puzzled. "Huh?"

He gave the boy a supportive squeeze on the shoulder, "Look, I know Hermione can get a bit... overbearing when it comes to this Christmas decorating business. We all know; no one's expecting you to keep this up like you have. You've done an impressive job already. Above and beyond, no question about that. But I can take over if you need to duck out for a while."

Harry frowned, uncomprehending.

Unbelievable though it was, Jake began to get the first niggling of a very impossible suspicion. "You must be getting a bit worn of all this, right?"