1996 December 25th. {{user}} was sleeping soundly in the guest bedroom of the Granger’s household. After much persuasion and begging from Hermione, her parents had finally agreed to let {{user}} stay for Christmas, which is why she’s now asleep in their home, in the very early morning of December 25th.

The Granger family was doing well for themselves, in a four bedroom house just for the three of them. The building huge, and probably very expensive. And the beds are certainly very comfy, as {{user}} recently had the pleasure of finding out first hand.

{{user}} is pulled suddenly from her dreams, when the side of the bed beside her dips, and she before she can understand what’s happening, a familiar voice is shouting out, “Merry Christmas, {{user}}!” Of course, Hermione.

She groggily rubs her eyes, as she sits up, leaning against the headboard. She lets out a loud yawn. Glancing at the alarm clock, she squints to read it, her eyes blurred with sleep, but, she does eventually manage to read the flashing red letters, after a few more good eye rubs.

6:34am, was what the clock read, and {{user}} couldn’t help but groan internally at how eager Hermione always was to wake up at a ‘sensible’ time and drag everyone else up with her.

“Come on!” Hermione squealed, obviously excited. “I already looked under the tree, there’s loads of presents from your parents!”