I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus

"And then your father opened up the parcel and found an old cloak and a note. Later, we found out the present was from Professor Dumbledore and that he had given Daddy an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione Potter told to her children. It was Christmas Eve and she was having trouble putting her youngest daughter to sleep. Her other two children, who were much older had no such problems and had already heard this story more than once.

"And then what? And then what?" little Bridget urged her mother. Hermione smiled.

"Then Daddy, Uncle Ron, and I got into all sorts of trouble with it!" Hermione told her. "We recovered the Sorcerer's Stone, helped Hagrid smuggle a dragon out of the castle, and get into the Restricted Section of the Library. All in our first year at Hogwarts!"

"But why would you want to go into the school library while you're invisible?" Bridget asked simply.

"Well, we weren't allowed inside the Restricted Section and we especially weren't allowed out of bed in the middle of the night. James can tell you all about that." In fact, Hermione's oldest child and only son knew all about the rules saying that students weren't allowed out of bed past hours. He was home for Christmas during his first year at Hogwarts and had already been caught once trying to sneak down to Hagrid's hut. The next morning, Harry and Hermione received a letter explaining the situation from Professor McGonagall, only for the Headmistress to note how much James had really grown into his parents' shoes.

"But then what happened? On Christmas, Mummy?" Bridget added as Hermione opened her mouth to tell her daughter that she had just said what happened next.

"Well I wasn't actually there. If you want to know how the rest of your father's first Hogwarts Christmas went, you'll have to ask him yourself. Now you need to go to sleep so that Father Christmas can come," she said as she tucked her daughter in.

On the other side of the room, Bridget's older sister, Lily, had fallen asleep before her mother could even begin her story. No matter, Lily had heard the tale of her father's first Hogwarts Christmas when she herself was five years old. Ironically, out of all of Harry Potter's children, Lily was the only one to receive her grandmother's emerald eyes but right now, they were completely shut.

Hermione stroked Bridget's soft blonde hair as she kissed her daughter on the forehead before heading to the daughter and turning out the light. As she closed the door, she whispered for her daughter to go to sleep.

There wasn't much time until "Father Christmas" came and Hermione still had quite a bit to do. She rushed down the stairs of the Potter home and straight into the kitchen. Shortly after getting married, she and Harry had bought the house right across the street from Harry's parents' house in Godric's Hollow. Every day, Harry would step outside his house and be met with the reminder of his parents' sacrifice. At first, he had forced himself and the memory was painful, but over the years, her grew to cherish the sight.

She pulled out her wand and levitated the cookies waiting on the counter into the oven. Then, she conjured up a mirror to look at her appearance: her former bushy hair was sleek, curled, and elegantly piled on top of her head, her periwinkle dressing gown was in place, and her eyes looked desperately tired. Oh well! I'm a mother of three kids and it's Christmas, she thought to herself.

She checked the cookies shortly after getting rid of the mirror and saw that the gingerbread and pumpkin spice cookies that she Lily, and Bridget had made that afternoon had baked perfectly. Rather than bake cookies, James sat in the living room all day with a copy of Miranda Goshawk's Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and a mug of Twining's best English Breakfast Tea. He really was Hermione's son with his nose stuck in a book. But he was also his father's son as he was an excellent flyer and was pretty fair at catching a Snitch. Despite his father being the Gryffindor seeker in his first year, James had to wait until his second year just like everyone else for a spot on the House Team.

Hermione took the last batch of cookies from the oven with a wave of her wand and moved another batch in. She iced the cookies and sprinkled them with nutmeg and sugar crystals in a flash. After taking the last batch of cookies out of the oven and smothering them in icing, nutmeg, and sugar, Hermione made herself a mug of Christmas tea (which has cinnamon, cloves, and other flavors that taste like the holidays) and sat down in the living room beside the fire. Sipping her tea, she opened up her copy of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, which she read every year at Christmas as a tradition.

Soon, she glanced up at an old mantle clock that had been in her family for years and saw that the time was nearly midnight. She looked straight at the fireplace, then shifted her gaze to the Christmas tree, which was a safe distance away from the fireplace, and smiled at the sight of the small evergreen that Harry and the children helped her to decorate. As she turned back to the book in her lap, she caught a fleeting dash of blonde in her peripheral vision. Almost time, she thought.

Soon, she heard a shuffling at the top of the chimney and immediately cast an extinguishing charm with her wand. As soon as a pair of black boots hit the ground softly, Hermione pretended she didn't hear a gasp from behind her. Out of the fireplace stepped a very lean man dressed in red. He had a white beard and bright, green eyes. On his back was a large sack and at his belt was a hawthorn wand.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Father Christmas laughed as he backed away from the fire. "Let me get that for you dear," he said as he pointed his wand at the fire. "Incendio!" he muttered at the fireplace.

Hermione set down A Christmas Carol, stood up, and sauntered over to Father Christmas. "Well, Ho, ho, ho to yourself," she said in a playful manner. "Now, what might we have this year?" she said, totally aware of a curious five-year-old hiding nearby.

"Just some presents for James, Lily, little Bridget, you, and your handsome husband," Santa said chuckling. He began to take all sorts of packages out of his sack and place them around the Christmas tree.

"Santa, just how exactly do you keep all those presents in your bag? I mean, that's a lot of children you deliver presents to," Hermione inquired.

"Well, I use an undetectable extension charm on the bag and a shrinking charm on each of the presents. You'd be amazed at how many gifts fit in here then!"

"Oh! My daughters and I baked these for you," Hermione remembered as she picked up a plate of cookies and a glass of milk from the coffee table. "There's pumpkin spice and gingerbread."

Father Christmas drank some milk and ate a few cookies. Noticing that Santa had cookie crumbs in his beard, she moved closer, brushing the crumbs from his beard. This had become tickling his chin under beard, at which Hermione tried so desperately hard to keep from laughing out loud. This had to be the third time she'd done this and she still wanted to laugh at this part.

Looking up at his hat, Hermione noticed there was a piece of mistletoe and smiled mischievously. "Thanks, Santa," she whispered before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. Knowing that Bridget was watching only a short distance away, Father Christmas began to blush as Hermione's lips touched his own.

"Of course, my dear!" he chuckled loudly before backing away, extinguishing the roaring fire, and clambering up the chimney.

As Hermione went to sit back down, she heard the footfalls of a child trying hard to not make much noise as the small blonde ran up the stairs. Suddenly, Harry Potter burst through the front door, arms full of presents and a briefcase in tow. He looked extremely tired but his emerald eyes glittered like gems. He was wearing a trench coat, suit, fedora, and scarf. His shoulders were covered in snow and there was a dash of soot on the back of his neck.

Hermione immediately stood up and pulled out her wand to help her husband. She levitated the gifts out of his arms and set them in front of the Christmas tree. "Hello, honey," she said as she ran over to give him a real kiss under the mistletoe above the door. "How was work?"

Harry took off his hat, coat, and scarf and placed them on the coat hanger next to the door. "Well, Taylor's out sick and Palmer still hasn't gotten those reports in! But otherwise, we're doing alright." Harry worked at the Ministry as an Auror and was in fact, head Auror. Immediately after work, he went to finish up some last minute Christmas shopping and wrap the last of the presents. "The store was bloody awful, though," he told his wife, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"Mmm, I bet. At least you're here now." She pulled him close as they shared another kiss. "Happy Christmas, sweetheart!"

"Do you think Bridgett will come downstairs now and tell us she saw Father Christmas like James? Or do you think she'll tell us in the morning like Lily?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I don't know."

Harry pulled out his wand and cast a warming spell on his coat and scarf.

"Honey," Hermione started, "That's the wrong wand." Harry smiled at her and replaced the hawthorn wand he had been holding and switched it with his holly one. She pecked him on the cheek before asking, "Do you want some tea?"

"I'd love some."

Hermione went to go make him a nice, hot cup of tea while he sat down in the armchair she had been previously occupying. Suddenly, he heard a soft pattering of feet on the stairs and saw his youngest daughter peeking at him.

"Bridget, I know you're there," he said, trying to mask his amusement. "Come here. Why aren't you in bed?" He knew exactly why his daughter wasn't in bed.

Before she knew what she was saying, Bridget blurted out, "I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus!"

Harry raised his eyebrow mischievously, but his daughter would only read it as curiosity. "So you saw Santa? Did you tell Mummy?"

"No, I didn't want her to tell me to go to bed!" she said excitedly.

"Well then, do you want to open a present? We don't have to tell Lily and James." Bridget shook her head. "Why not, pumpkin?"

"What if Mummy finds out?"

Harry smiled. "Of course she'll find out!" His daughter's face turned to a look of horror. "She's right behind you." And of course, Hermione was beaming at her daughter, holding Harry's mug of Christmas tea.

She handed Harry his mug of tea then knelt down beside her daughter. "You can open one up, dear.' Bridget's face lit up and ran to pick one of the smaller presents; she wanted to save some of the bigger packages for the next morning.

Hermione sat on the arm of the chair Harry was seated in just as Bridget turned around with a frown on her face. Before either of her parents could ask what was wrong, she asked, "Daddy, why were you really late coming home?"

Smart kid. This one'll be like Hermione, Harry thought. "Well, I had to get presents for your Uncle Ron, Aunt Luna, Aunt Ginny, Uncle Neville, and your cousins, didn't I?"

"We're all going to the Burrow again tomorrow, right Daddy?" A huge grin appeared on her face as her right hand ran over the bow on top of the present she was holding.

"That's right, pumpkin," Harry said fondly to his youngest child.

Bridget plopped down at her parents' feet and began tearing the paper off the small box. She yanked the lid off and pushed the tissue paper aside to reveal a silver pumpkin necklace. On the back of the pendant, Bridget, Our Little Pumpkin was engraved.

She ran over to her parents and nearly knocked Hermione off the chair's arm as she gave her parents very large hugs. "Can you help me put it on?" she asked her parents. In response, Hermione opened the clasp and put it around her daughter's neck. "Thanks Daddy! Thanks Mummy! You're the best mummy and daddy ever!"

"Of course, pumpkin!" Harry and Hermione said together.

"You'd better get to bed now, though," Harry said.

"And Happy Christmas!" Hermione added. Bridget ran upstairs, a grin plastered on her face. There was no doubt that she was trying to think of everything else she and her brother and sister would get in the morning.

"Well, there's another '5th Christmas Success,'" Harry murmured to his wife.

"I've always wondered at what point they've figured it out," Hermione giggled.

"It probably won't take Bridget long; she's got your brains," Harry smiled at his wife.

"Yeah well, you're my Santa," Hermione whispered. The fireplace roared with heat and life; the lights from the tree and the window cast a soft, colored glow on the couple; snow was falling softly. All that was missing was some mistletoe. Harry pulled out his wand (the holly one) and conjured some mistletoe to hang above them. "I like how you think, Mr. Potter," she whispered.

He nodded as he pulled her closer and they shared a good, well-deserved Christmas kiss.

Fin.