It was one of those cold nights. The snow was being blown sideways and at all angles. She huddled under his coat as they ran up the frosty steps. “Watch your step,” he said gruffly as his grip on her shoulder grew stronger.

She laughed, having a puff of air escape her mouth. “I'm fine,” she said, as they rang the doorbell. There was a pause and for a moment, the night was silent.

“Hmm, doesn't sound like they're there. Oh well, let's go,” he said quickly, taking her hand in his and turning to pull her back down the icy steps.

She laughed and tugged on his hand. “Harry,” she giggled, “Get back here.” She turned to ring the doorbell two more times before being turned around and kissed softly. Closing her eyes slowly, she grazed his jaw line with her fingers, rubbing some stubble, and then finally holding his frozen cheek.

His hands had mysteriously moved to her waist and smoothed out the crinkles in her jacket. He hummed happily into the kiss, making her laugh. They were interrupted when the door opened; follow by a surprised and half disgusted yelp. Breaking apart abruptly, Hermione immediately went to rub her lips, and Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Evening, Ron,” he said with a grin.

“Merry Christmas,” Ron said with a sly smile. He lowered his head and smiled. “Happy Christmas, Hermione”

Hermione took her head out of Harry's jacket, a flush on her face present not only from the cold of the winter. She curled a curl behind her ear and fidgeted. “Happy Christmas, Ron.”

A figure behind Ron floated to the vestibule, blonde hair flowing behind it. “Happy Christmas,” came the flighty voice.

Hermione's smile grew and her posture straightened with confidence. “Hi Luna,” she smiled, “Happy Christmas.” Harry waved shyly and mouthed hello.

“Come in,” Ron and Luna said at the same time, grinning like idiots to one another when they had realized it. “It's cold tonight, a bit colder than usual,” Ron said, as he took their coats and closed the door.

“Something's in the air,” Hermione said with a chuckle, sharing a smile with Harry.

He made a mock surprised face and she giggled internally. Their smiles slowly faded as they noticed Ron in the room, not looking quite as amused.

Harry cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly as Ron huffed and took his coat.

“You know, a lot of her statements make a lot of sense,” Ron grumbled as he closed the closet, ignoring Hermione's raising eyebrows.

“Most statements do make sense,” Harry joked, attacking Ron's vocabulary.

“Unless of course they're facts,” Hermione went along with a straight face.

“Naturally,” Harry was looking through Ron to Hermione. “In which case they'd be referred to as-”

“Statistics.”

“Naturally.”

Hermione couldn't help a smile. “Naturally.”

Ron stormed off, rolling his eyes and grumbling something that included `bloody natural statements'. The two followed him closely, laughing. Hermione managed to fling her arms around Ron from behind. Grinning, Ron held her hands in his and the three looped into the kitchen, where Luna was already bringing the final pasta dish into the living room. They followed her into the living room silently and Harry took Hermione's hand, giving a squeeze for no reason.

-*^^*-

They were cuddled up in front of the fireplace, every now and then opening presents, kissing, laughing, drinking. They had gone through the majority of presents sent in from China, Romania, and Singapore. The Weasleys had done much travelling and it seemed as though these four were the only ones fortunate enough to be England. It was when Hermione had decided to refill their mugs on hot chocolate when the package arrived. Not exactly in the smoothest delivery any of them had seen, as Ginny's orange almost tabby like cat owl flew in, collapsing on the floor from the weight. He was holding a very well wrapped up cylinder-like staff. The staff was dropped very unceremoniously on the floor and Luna squealed into Ron's lap. There was a silence as the four of them stared at the parcel.

“Should we,” Harry mumbled, licking his lips, “Um, should we open it?”

“Don't be silly, “Hermione said hurriedly, putting down the mugs on the table and slowly approaching the parcel, shaking Harry's grip on her arm.

“Hermione,” he said, obviously worried and untrusting.

She made a mental note to give him a kiss for being so caring. Slowly, she rolled the parcel on its side, revealing a little card. She took the card between her fingers and slowly opened. “On his first Christmas of the rest of his life,” she read aloud, “Good luck, Harry Potter. Sincerely, A. Dumbledore.

There was a moment none of them tried to fight. Finally, Ron gave a sigh. “Blimey,” he said simply.

“Always the best with words,” Hermione mumbled absentmindedly, turning the staff.

“What kind of sick joke is this?” Harry asked, not even trying to hide his anger. He had never grown to accept Dumbledore's passing, and certainly did not enjoy being reminded of it at such a joyous time.

“Harry, darling, I don't think it's a joke,” Hermione soothed, now coming and sitting by his side, enveloping her arm in his.

Harry folded his arms stubbornly and she giggled.

There was another silence as they all eyed it suspiciously. “Are you going to open it?” Luna asked quietly.

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, but before he could even motion to stop her, Hermione had fallen to her knees, opening the package.

Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, receiving only a shrug in response. As the wrapping came undone, the other three in the room found themselves tilting in curiosity. “What is it?” Harry had to ask.

“It's a staff,” Hermione said slowly, turning to show it to them. The staff was gold, extending a little over six feet tall. At the height of it was an emerald orb, encased with gold rimming.

“It's beautiful,” Luna commented wistfully.

“What does it do?” Ron wondered aloud.

“Doesn't matter,” Harry replied gruffly, “This is just some sort of sick joke. Innit, Hermione?”

But Hermione was too busy analyzing the staff itself. “I don't think it's a joke, dear,” she said slowly, “I think it's….” She remained quiet.

“It's a what?” Ron asked, suddenly eager. “What is it? It's a what?”

Hermione caressed the side of the staff. Slowly, her eyes lifted towards Luna's. There was silent agreement between the two and Ron's head poked between their gaze.

“What's going on?” he asked, completely clueless.

“I think it's a host,” Hermione said, now looking at Harry.

Finally becoming interested, Harry shifted uncomfortably. “You mean a host for..something?”

Hermione nodded. “I studied hosts and masters to spirits for my doctorate a year ago, do you remember?”

Harry smiled warmly, remembering the pride he felt when she aced it. “Of course.”

Hermione smiled back. She tilted the staff for them to see, almost knocking Ron unconscious when she swung it around. “Sorry,” she cringed, and brought it down on the floor. Ron and Luna crept closer as Harry got off the chair and fell to the floor, on his hands and knees. “Do you see this?” Hermione whispered, tracing a symbol on the staff with her index finger. “Luna, you can explain?”

“It's the mark of the Gods,” Luna said, and Ron found himself interested in her tales for the first time. “Legends have it that when Zeus realized mankind was slowly growing out of his control, he locked his most trusted and talented Ramagi in different objects.” She glanced at Hermione and Hermione nodded.

“The Ramagi were spirits, neither dead nor alive. They could see almost all, and…” She drifted off.

Harry hadn't noticed he was so enthralled when she stopped. “And what?” he asked. When Hermione remained silent, he placed his hand on hers, giving a comforting squeeze.

Hermione swallowed slowly, and turned her head to his. “The Ramagi also acted as genies,” she whispered, never taking his eyes off his. There was silence between the four friends as they all looked at Hermione, Hermione only at Harry. “One for each holder of the host,” she murmured.

“Bollocks,” Ron said, breaking the silence. Harry and Hermione broke their gaze and looked at him. He picked up the staff before anyone could stop him and stood up, walking backwards away from the group.

“Ron, don't!” Hermione said, immediately getting up. Harry and Luna remained on the floor. “We don't know what this is for certain; we don't even know who sent it!”

Ron sneered. “Look at the card, Hermione, it was Dumbledore, he obviously sent years ago. Maybe he knew he wouldn't make it,” he said, making eye contact with harry. He turned his eye sight back to Hermione. “In any case, what's the worst that could happen?” He grinned his dangerous grin and held the staff arms length away from him. “Now how do you open this thing?” He used his left hand and placed it on top of the staff. “Open sesame, `he said, ominously.

There was an awkward moment as the four of them stared at the staff, almost expecting something. When nothing happened, Hermione huffed. “This is ridiculous,” she said, grabbing the staff from Ron's hand. Gripping it with her right hand, she pushed Ron away from it and placed her hand on the top of the staff. “Honestly, you can't expect to say something as simple as open sesame and expect it to open, Ronald.'

“And why not?” Ron asked incredulously, “It worked for that Baba bloke, why can't it work for me?”

“Because this is Harry's gift, Ron! Maybe it only opens for him.”

“Enough,” came a gruff voice, interrupting their quarrel. Hermione felt the staff being taken out of her hands and turned to meet green eyes. “You know I don't like it when you fight,' Harry cooed, his lips brushing against her cheek. It was only then that she realized how very close he was standing. She fought an urge to hold him-even if only for a moment-and sighed. She turned to Luna, who was still sitting on the floor. “Have you any ideas, Luna?”

Luna rearranged her sitting position when Ron joined her, bringing his arm around her back. “None that I can think of,” she replied dazily. “Are you even certain it's a host for a Ramagi, Hermione?”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “How can you be so sure?”

Hermione shrugged, “I'm not.” She felt helpless and stupid, then she felt even more stupid for caring so much that she felt stupid. She most absolutely hated feeling this aggravating feeling that she simply couldn't find the right answer. Feeling her tense up, Harry brought his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “It'll be alright, dear,' he whispered, `I don't need a Ramagi, I have you.”

“Just a thought, though,” Ron said with a grin, “What would you wish for if you were holding a ramagee?”

“Rah-mah-jee, Ron,” Hermione corrected, “Like a jeep, without the p.”

Ron's eyebrows raised. “A jeep?” He asked.

Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione laughed. “That is a good question though,” Harry agreed. He turned his head and rubbed noses with Hermione. “What would you wish for, Hermione?” He asked.

Suddenly, the staff between to tremble slightly and Harry's grip tightened. Hermione immediately brought her hand to his chest and held on. Luna and Ron hugged tighter as a bright white flash enveloped the room.

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my best friend. Thank you for your time, patience, understanding, heart, shoulder, and ear.