Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Associated Characters.

As a gift to my readers and HP page likers, I am writing several drabbles for you, for various pairings, about Christmas.

Current Pairing Requests: Romione, Harmony, Drarry, Nuna and Dramione.

~*MERRY CHRISTMAS*~


A Collection of Christmas Cheer - HP Fanfiction Drabbles.

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1) Ronmione (Ron & Hermione -School Age)

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With a long-suffering sigh, Harry James Potter rolled his eyes behind the black-wire framed glasses, and dropped his head to the old tabletop with an ominous thunk, hair sticking up at odd angles looking for all the world as if he'd been electrocuted overnight. Part of him honestly wished he had been…

Any and all desire to eat of the delicious spread Mrs Weasley had provided for her brood and their friends, most of said hungry hormonal horde yet to amble down to the breakfast feast, had dissipated the very moment Ron and Hermione had gigglingly taken their place across from him.

The secret smiles, embarrassed blushes and tentative handholding accompanied by awkward giggling -that, the Chosen One could deal with… it was when they started to feed each other little bits of this and that… that's where he drew the line.

Part of him hoped that he and Ginny never had, and never-would, end up doing something so sickeningly sweet and schmoopy that onlookers ended up with an odd taste in their mouths, you know the one… like children's sherry cough syrup.

It wasn't until a bread bun bounced off his head that he jerked upright to find both his best friends staring at him with concerned expressions. He rolled his eyes, of course, neither of them would have any idea how horrifyingly adorable a scene they were making… ever since Ron had woken up in the hospital wing with Hermione holding his hand instead of Lavender, that had been it; there had not been a moment's peace from then on.

Having to be the third-wheel even during classes was a new and decidedly awful experience, especially when the majority of Professors made him sit between the pair, like some sort of living barricade. Sighing dramatically once more, he waved a hand in a non-committal gesture and said, 'You were doing it again…'

Ron went almost as scarlet as his hair, 'Oh… sorry mate.' he mumbled out, eagerly snatching at a full piece of toast and jamming it in his mouth to avoid further awkwarding up the conversation. Hermione just rolled her eyes and offered a supposedly apologetic smile, that ended up coming off her angelic face as a little less apologetic… and somewhat more smug.

Both of them knew that ever since the Twins had booby-trapped the house with Mistletoe, Harry and Ginny had been deliberately relegated to opposite ends of the house under Mrs Weasley's hawk-like scrutiny. Whereas they had been taking full advantage of the sudden appearance of the plant in doorways, on light fixtures, hanging off trees outside in the garden, attached to a garden gnome…

Okay, so Fred and George might have gone a bit overboard with their ambushing mistletoe charm, but they were honestly trying to do both the younger couples in the house a favour… their mother's consternation regarding their underlying intentions, notwithstanding.

Speaking of the identical trouble-makers and masterminds of several dozen of Hogwarts' most memorable pranks…

Twin sets of footsteps thudded down the stairs in unison, a third lighter set echoing behind, then stopping altogether. A loud, 'Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!' was followed by cries of, 'Good Idea, Gin!' and 'Last one down has to snog Percy in front of Fudge!'

"YOU THREE HAD BETTER NOT BE ON MY BANNISTERS!" shouted Mrs Weasley, startling even Mr Weasley away from his special Christmas edition of The Daily Prophet long enough to smile fondly at his offspring's antics, before returning to whatever fascinating editorial had caught his eye.

The trio of flushed, stupidly-grinning faces trudged into the room, trying and failing to instil expressions of innocence on their features before simply giving up and pecking their mother on the cheek in apology. Mrs Weasley waved them off with her wooden spoon, gesturing without words that they should sit and eat while there was still food left.

If they didn't hurry, Charlie and Bill would be up and devouring everything on the table before anyone else got a look in; even Percy could be counted on to demolish a feast like that set before them, in a matter of minutes. Must be something in the Weasley blood, Harry thought.

Co-incidentally, after much apologising for being a gigantic twat, 'Perfect Percy' would be joining them sometime later for Lunch or maybe Dinner… depending on which magical crises arose over the course of the day.

Apparently a lot of magical persons decided that Christmas was the time to experiment with different celebratory spells, usually the kind that backfires spectacularly; and Percy had swung work duty over Christmas. Honestly, Harry was kind of pleased that the older boy wouldn't be there until after the presents had all been handed out, it might be a bit awkward otherwise…

And besides, it's easier to deal with a semi-unwanted guest when no one has to talk to them, mouths all full of food and cutlery clinking off plates with gusto.

A second bun bounced off his head, this time the projectile coming from a more Ginny-oriented direction; jerking attention over to where the youngest Weasley was emphatically waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Ooooh, looks like someone's going to get a good gift from sweet little Ginny-kins this year…" cooed Fred… no wait, George -one day he'd work out which was which while in motion- from behind him. An arm was slung over his shoulders to prevent escape by sliding off his chair and under the table where he could probably crawl to safety… away from Mrs Weasley's death-dealing glare… and all the pointy objects the well-stocked kitchen boasted.

For her part, Ginny was glaring daggers at the pair, cheeks flushed bright red in horror at the insinuation. Completely accidentally, Ron diffused the tension by letting out a loud snort of amusement and rolling his eyes at Hermione; who laughed and tossed a sausage at the Keeper, who ducked at the last second, so it ended up on Ginny's lap.

She squealed and fell off her chair… and it devolved from there.

By the time Bill and Charlie had finally crawled downstairs, rubbing at bleary eyes and staring in horrified fascination at the chaos… a full-blown food-WAR had begun in earnest. Only truly tapering down when a pancake somehow sailed over the top of Mr Weasley's Daily Prophet and whapped into his face, smearing slowly down to his plate and leaving a nice trail of sticky maple syrup in it's wake.

The room froze, several of the occupants still with delectable weaponry in hand, as the paper lowered.

After a lengthy pause where even Mrs Weasley's reprimands towards the twins had fallen into silence, Arthur cleared his throat, darted a tongue out to lick at the sticky mess coating the majority of his face, and commented, 'Lovely throw, Hermione, dear… but could you possibly toss on of the ones with Strawberry jam on it next time?'

Surprise flitted across many a face for several seconds, before various occupants of the room burst into raucous laughter, dropping whatever potential projectiles were in their hands and beginning to clean themselves up.

Hermione gigglingly pulled a piece of bacon out of Ron's hair, he swiped at some whipped cream on her nose… aaaaaaaand, like that, they were back to being the most sickeningly adorable couple in the room in seconds. Even Fred and George decided not to look directly at pair, though Ginny's wistful expression clearly read that she perhaps found it adorable in a teen romance novel sort of way…

He really needed to convince her to stop reading Teen Witch… not only was it full of utter tripe like 'How to Make your Witch or Wizard Fall for You without Resorting to Love Potions!' and '20 Charms That Can Determine If You're An Adorable Couple!', but they kept publishing odd, and rather disturbing articles about him without his permission.

That competition to guess what kind of tattoo he had and WHERE was completely out of line (thankfully Mrs Weasley sent them a Howler in response to such a blatant disregard of a minor's privacy… and they immediately recalled the issue it was in. Harry thinks they're living in fear she'll march in there and ground them all or something… but he's glad she's on his side, mostly).

With a deep breath, Mrs Weasley seemingly mustered all her remaining maternal calm, opened her eyes and smiled brightly. "Alright, you messy creatures… everyone into the living room and we'll do presents, as soon as you've made sure your part of the table is spotless, mind!"

Ron and Hermione were already trotting into the next room, when they paused in the doorway, glancing up and giggling; Harry almost didn't need to look to know that there was obviously some levitating Mistletoe hovering about their heads. There was legitimately no door or archway in the house that wasn't booby-trapped to go off if two or more persons crossed under them in close proximity or at the exact same time.

…it had lead to some extraordinarily awkward moments between Harry and various members of the Weasley family over the last few days. Especially the time Fred and George wouldn't let him get away from their tentacle-like embrace-slash-ambush, until they'd planted simultaneous sloppy pecks to his embarrassment-flushed cheeks…

Mrs Weasley eventually chasing the pair off by flourishing her broom at them.

Now there was a memory he'd bring up with a Therapist, twenty or thirty years from now… but right now, having cleaned his area, all he really wanted was to get through the doorway. Which his two best friends in the entire world were blocking because they refused to stop being sickeningly sweet and coupley.

If Voldemort didn't kill him in the next few minutes, over-exposure to adorableness just might…

He huffed out a sigh, and wondered if either of them knew what a spectacle they were making. Honestly, he never expected Ron to willing hold hands with someone, much less make schmoopy faces at them… but Hermione was special; well, duh, he knew that already. Hermione was this glorious bastion of all that was gorgeous and brilliant, all crammed into this teenager shaped package… but she had this way about her that just kind of urged you to go along with what she wanted.

Then again, she too was different in love, then how Harry had imagined her… even in that brief fling with Krum in fourth year, she'd never had the look she sported now; the blushes and giggles were different too. The same… but different.

Was that even possible…?

Probably. He'd ask Hermione later…

He blinked the ceiling -and the subsequent floating piece of mistletoe in it's festive red bow- back into focus, only to realise he'd been zoning out while staring, for quite some time if the looks he was garnering from Ron and Hermione were anything to go by. His tongue stumbled over itself as if drunk, as he fumbled for words, 'Oh, er… uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….'

Nothing came to mind.

"Eloquent as always, I see, Harry…" Hermione smiled, slipping an arm around his back and leaning into his left side.

Ron just sort of stared for a minute, before half-punching him in his free shoulder, and beaming as he intoned, "You idiot… if you wanted a smooch, you should have said so!" and pounced at him playfully as Hermione suddenly became like an anchor… that apparently also had tickling capabilities.

The Trio landed on the floor, giggling and flailing limbs as Harry valiantly fought of the half-hearted attempts of his taller friends, and ultimately failing as Hermione got him on the cheek somewhat sweetly. While Ron's attempt ended up as a sort of smear-by smooch on his right cheek… that he loudly, and melodramatically, protested; leaving the Chosen One vigorously scrubbing at the trail of slobber with a shirt-sleeve, simultaneously wheezing from lack of enough air to fuel his giggle fit.

Eventually, he got free and groaned, "Why am I even friends with you two?" rolling up and onto his feet. Offering both Ron and Hermione a hand up the minute he was steady enough not to crash back down onto them…

"Well, given your choice was between us or Mouldy-Voldy, I'd say you chose the better option…" Ron snarked back affectionately, then clapped his hands together. "Right, PRESENTS!" and disappeared into the living room.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Alright, present time…" he suddenly fixed Hermione with a serious expression that made her pause, mid-step. "I'll go in there… but you'd better not have gotten each other matching jumpers or something, or… well, I'm either going to hurl rainbows, or get really jealous…"

She let out a peal of laughter that was belied by the sudden appearance of a guilty expression on her face… the Brightest Witch of Her Age beat a hasty retreat into The Burrow's living room, not daring to look back.

As it turned out, they HAD gotten matching sweaters, with unicorns on them…

…but the real dilemma of the evening came when Harry suddenly realised he couldn't seem to decide if it was better or worse that they'd also gotten him one…

'Ah well,' he thought, slipping it over his head and grinning like a moron, 'At least they'd have a good conversation starter next time they faced Voldemort…'


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THE END


To be Fair, it was written in a hurry... so it isn't brilliant.

But, whatever... Merry Whatever-You-Celebrate, more to come.

~*SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire*~