Author's Note: Not a very original title, is it? Hmm. It's Christmas. A
bunch of annoying little cousins are over [of the very bratty and un-cute
version], and I'm trying to escape watching prime-time cartoons with them.
Can you tell that I'm not in a very festive mood? Thus the hopefully-can-be-
written-in-an-hour-and-a-half story. Enjoy.
Christmas at Hogwarts
By like a falling star
Ron Weasley was a happy man. It was Christmas time, after all. Anyone [besides, possibly, Snape] was liable to be happy. He'd even caught Draco Malfoy [Draco Malfoy! Imagine!] in the oh-so-jolly festive mood, singing 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire.' loudly and off-key in the Prefects' bathroom early Christmas morning.
Hahaha. Ron grinned. He'd never been much of a morning person, but the astonished, deer-caught-in-headlights look on Draco's face had been utterly priceless.
Amazingly enough, that wasn't the only reason Ron was happy. His cheery mood was due largely to the fact that his mind had been made up, his resolve cast in iron. He'd went to bed last night, thinking of how he'd present Hermione with her gift, when he'd made an earth-shattering decision- like it or not, come Christmas Day, he would tell Hermione of his feelings, of how he felt about her, about why he really detested Krum so much. And like it or not, she was going to listen.
"Buttermilk candy," he muttered. The Fat Lady beamed, chiming back with a 'Happy Christmas, dear!'. Ron climbed through the portrait hole, wondering whether he should attend the Yule Ball later this evening or not-after all, he had no date. His only consolation was that, for some strange reason, Hermione had no date as well. Now that was utterly baffling. Why didn't Hermione have a date? Didn't anyone ask her? She was smart and funny and beautiful, not to mention she had the greatest personality and biggest heart of anyone he knew. Of course, Ron himself had been asked out-by four girls no less. But that was besides the point.
"Merry Christmas, Ron!" Seamus Finnigan called from where he sat, tearing open brightly-coloured presents. Ron thought that his friend's high spirits might have something to do with Lavender, who was snuggled on the couch beside him, but decided not to pursue it. It was, after all, Christmas.
"Happy Christmas!" Ron replied. He noticed Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George sitting in a cozy corner, beckoning to him. He went over and sat down next to Harry.
"The little brother has finally arrived." Fred announced in a solemn voice. "The ceremony will commence."
Almost automatically, George popped a multi-coloured, soft toffee into Ron's mouth. Harry and Hermione watched in fascination as Ron opened his mouth in protest and, much to his horror, started singing an old Muggle love ballad instead. Ron immediately snapped his mouth shut, turning red.
George grinned. "Our newest invention. Serenading sweets."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, on Christmas." she muttered, obviously unimpressed.
"Why, Ginny! We spent months developing these!" Fred said, and turned to Ron with a mischievous grin. "The trick is not to speak for a minute."
Ron, left with no choice, did as told. The first word out of his mouth when the minute was over was '@&$#!', and Fred chuckled as Ron began crooning again.
"Absolutely brilliant, this one." George said proudly. "If you start swearing the moment it wears off, it starts all over again." He handed Ron a golden tin containing about three dozen Serenading Sweets. "Happy Christmas."
Ginny cracked a smile. "Mum would love it." She deadpanned. She reached behind her and selected a lumpy package from her pile of presents-to-be- given-away. She gave it to Ron. "Here," she said. "From Mum. This year I'm the unofficial distributor of Weasley sweaters."
"Thanks." Ron acknowledged, unwrapping it. "Blimey!" he exclaimed, pulling out a navy blue knitted sweater with the letter 'R' emblazoned on the chest. "It's not maroon!"
Harry laughed. "Merry Christmas, mate," He said, tossing a sloppily-wrapped package to Ron. It was a small Chudley Cannons hamper, including a signed Chudley Cannons poster, a limited edition Chudley Cannons mug and a miniature Chudley Cannons jersey which might have fitted Crookshanks perfectly.
"Thanks, mate." Ron looked genuinely pleased. "Merry Christmas." He cleared his throat. "Your presents are still up in my dorm. I'll distribute them later."
Ginny handed him another package from her pile. This one was flat and squarish, shaped somewhat like a book. "This one's from me." She said. There was a note that came with it. It said 'BEWARE: Do not open within close proximity to anyone, unless you wish to be horribly embarrassed.'
"Thanks, Gin."
Hermione was a bit shy when giving him her present. It was a small, very Ravenclaw-looking package, wrapped in matte silver paper and tied with a blue silk ribbon. She leaned in towards him, whispering, "Don't open it till you're alone-I mean it."
*
Ron could hardly wait to open his gifts. He set them down on his bed and drew the curtains around him. He weighed them in his hand, wondering which he should open first. After much consideration, he placed Hermione's gift on his pillow and started tearing the wrapping paper off Ginny's present. He was saving the best for last.
Ron got rid of the last vestiges of the wrapping, and stared at it. It seemed like some sort of scrapbook. He turned it around in his hand. The word 'Hermione' was printed elegantly in gold manuscript on the cover. Hermione? Hmm. Interesting. Wasn't this supposed to be a present from Ginny?
Ron opened the book. The handwriting on the first page was familiar. It was Ginny's girly, squiggly scrawl in hot pink. Ron squinted to read the words.
Dear Ron,
Merry Christmas! This is my little present to you. You'd better make sure that you're alone now. I'm telling you this to save you from humiliation, so you'd better listen and take heed. Hope you enjoy your present. In fact, I'm fairly certain you will. Take care and, for the last time, ask Hermione to the Yule Ball!
Love, Ginny.
Ron harrumphed. His little sister knew him too well for her own good.
In eager anticipation, he turned to Hermione's package, but, unlike the rest of the packages, he took extraordinary care in undoing the ribbon and peeling off the wrapping paper slowly, making sure not to tear it. After all, this present was special-it was from Hermione.
He carefully slid the wrapper off, and what was left cradled in the palm of his hand was a deep, sapphire blue velvet box. Nestled snugly in the box was a silver pendant. It was heart-shaped and curved delicately around the edges, with a rose-coloured stone set in the middle. Ron could tell straightaway that it wasn't spanking new, nor was it by any means expensive, but he knew that it was something with great sentimental value.
Ron wondered vaguely why Hermione had given it to him. It certainly was a very pretty pendant, but he wasn't about to go around wearing it suspended from a chain. He found a note attached on the underside of the box.
Dear Ron,
Happy Christmas! I wondered about what to give you this Christmas. I thought about it for a while, before I realized that the answer was obvious. You're probably wondering about the pendant, though. I gave it to you first to make sure that I wouldn't chicken out. I'll tell you later at the Yule Ball, alright? Save me the last dance.
Love, Hermione.
*
Ron spun Parvati around a final time before the song ended.
Parvati, who'd forgiven him and Harry for the previous year, smiled at him before going off to find Dean Thomas, her date.
Ron went over to the refreshment stand and ladled himself a cup of iced pumpkin juice. He then went over to an unoccupied table and sat down. In the distance he saw Harry dancing with his sister. He noticed too, with a slight frown, that they were dancing awfully closely.
"Bit of a protective brother, aren't you?" A friendly voice cut into his thoughts.
Ron turned. "Hello, Angelina. Where's Fred?"
Angelina Johnson nudged her head towards the refreshment stand. "Gone off to get us some drinks." She glanced to where Ron was staring. Harry and Ginny had disappeared, replaced by Hermione and a tall, blond Hufflepuff. They were dancing.
Ron's stomach went into a twist. Hermione looked awfully pretty tonight. Her hair was less bushy than usual, done up in a sophisticated French twist. Her robes were a pale, salmon pink in colour, and made of a light, floaty material, making her look more elegant than usual.
Beside him, Ron could feel, rather than see, Angelina smirk. "Gonna tell her tonight?"
Ron felt himself go red at the thought. "I hope so."
Angelina smiled and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "It'll be alright, Ron, but you'd better tell her." She squinted into the distance. "Oops, Fred's being a dunderhead again, gotta go snap some pictures! Ta!" She left.
Ron was left standing there again. He'd been dancing for hours, and the Yule Ball was finally coming to an end. He didn't want to admit it, but this was what he'd been waiting for. 'Save me the last dance,' Hermione had written.
The room grew steadily quiet. The band struck up its final song of the night. It was a slow, romantic song, one meant for lovers, not merely dates. Ron looked across the room at Hermione. Their eyes met across the crowded hall, locked into each other, deep blue into sparkling brown, sparkling brown into deep blue, just like in a fairytale.
Without saying a word, they drew closer. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, Ron wound his arms around her waist; it all came very naturally. As if on impulse, Hermione leaned her head against his chest very softly. Could she hear his heart pounding against his ribcage? They stayed there, completely comfortable in their gentle embrace, swaying slowly to the soft music, listening to it come to an end. Almost hesitantly so, Hermione lifted her head to look at Ron, a contented smile on her face.
"I love you, Mione." Ron said tenderly. He hadn't even been thinking of saying it, but once he did, it sounded so natural, so perfect that it was as if it were perfectly natural for him to be saying it.
Hermione stared up at him with something resembling shock.
Ron's resolve faltered just a bit. He knew Hermione nearly better than she knew herself, but as to how she would react he had no inkling. Would she break into tears, upset and wondering if she had, in any way, lead him on? Would she laugh in his face, disgusted that he'd even considered to think that she might like him? Would she wag her finger angrily in his face, mistakenly thinking that he was making a big joke out of it?
And then, he'd heard them: the last words he'd ever expect to hear.
"I love you too." She said at last, tears pouring forth from her eyes, which were shining with happiness.
He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he did the only thing he could've done at that moment: he smiled.
Hermione smiled back at him.
"Oh, right." Ron said awkwardly, realizing for the first time that his arms were still around her and hers around his neck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box she'd given him for Christmas, and opened it. "What is this, Mione?"
Hermione's face broke into a smile as she saw it. "It's a pendant." she said, stating the obvious. "My granddad gave it to my grandma when they got married. Grandma passed it down to mom, who then gave it to me." Hermione explained. "It's very precious, to me at least. This is. my heart." She was wondering how to tell Ron without coming off sounding like a total idiot. "I give a little bit of it to everyone but I wanted you to have all of it because ultimately, my heart belongs to you." She said sincerely.
Ron stared down at her, at this beautiful, precious, perfect girl and wondered what he'd ever done to deserve her. "You're the best person I know, Mione." He said earnestly. "I love you."
Hermione grinned. She took out her wand and conjured the floating candle above them into a sprig of fresh mistletoe. Then she stood on tiptoes and.
And Ron did the only thing he could have done at that moment: he kissed back.
*
Christmas at Hogwarts
By like a falling star
Ron Weasley was a happy man. It was Christmas time, after all. Anyone [besides, possibly, Snape] was liable to be happy. He'd even caught Draco Malfoy [Draco Malfoy! Imagine!] in the oh-so-jolly festive mood, singing 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire.' loudly and off-key in the Prefects' bathroom early Christmas morning.
Hahaha. Ron grinned. He'd never been much of a morning person, but the astonished, deer-caught-in-headlights look on Draco's face had been utterly priceless.
Amazingly enough, that wasn't the only reason Ron was happy. His cheery mood was due largely to the fact that his mind had been made up, his resolve cast in iron. He'd went to bed last night, thinking of how he'd present Hermione with her gift, when he'd made an earth-shattering decision- like it or not, come Christmas Day, he would tell Hermione of his feelings, of how he felt about her, about why he really detested Krum so much. And like it or not, she was going to listen.
"Buttermilk candy," he muttered. The Fat Lady beamed, chiming back with a 'Happy Christmas, dear!'. Ron climbed through the portrait hole, wondering whether he should attend the Yule Ball later this evening or not-after all, he had no date. His only consolation was that, for some strange reason, Hermione had no date as well. Now that was utterly baffling. Why didn't Hermione have a date? Didn't anyone ask her? She was smart and funny and beautiful, not to mention she had the greatest personality and biggest heart of anyone he knew. Of course, Ron himself had been asked out-by four girls no less. But that was besides the point.
"Merry Christmas, Ron!" Seamus Finnigan called from where he sat, tearing open brightly-coloured presents. Ron thought that his friend's high spirits might have something to do with Lavender, who was snuggled on the couch beside him, but decided not to pursue it. It was, after all, Christmas.
"Happy Christmas!" Ron replied. He noticed Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George sitting in a cozy corner, beckoning to him. He went over and sat down next to Harry.
"The little brother has finally arrived." Fred announced in a solemn voice. "The ceremony will commence."
Almost automatically, George popped a multi-coloured, soft toffee into Ron's mouth. Harry and Hermione watched in fascination as Ron opened his mouth in protest and, much to his horror, started singing an old Muggle love ballad instead. Ron immediately snapped his mouth shut, turning red.
George grinned. "Our newest invention. Serenading sweets."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, on Christmas." she muttered, obviously unimpressed.
"Why, Ginny! We spent months developing these!" Fred said, and turned to Ron with a mischievous grin. "The trick is not to speak for a minute."
Ron, left with no choice, did as told. The first word out of his mouth when the minute was over was '@&$#!', and Fred chuckled as Ron began crooning again.
"Absolutely brilliant, this one." George said proudly. "If you start swearing the moment it wears off, it starts all over again." He handed Ron a golden tin containing about three dozen Serenading Sweets. "Happy Christmas."
Ginny cracked a smile. "Mum would love it." She deadpanned. She reached behind her and selected a lumpy package from her pile of presents-to-be- given-away. She gave it to Ron. "Here," she said. "From Mum. This year I'm the unofficial distributor of Weasley sweaters."
"Thanks." Ron acknowledged, unwrapping it. "Blimey!" he exclaimed, pulling out a navy blue knitted sweater with the letter 'R' emblazoned on the chest. "It's not maroon!"
Harry laughed. "Merry Christmas, mate," He said, tossing a sloppily-wrapped package to Ron. It was a small Chudley Cannons hamper, including a signed Chudley Cannons poster, a limited edition Chudley Cannons mug and a miniature Chudley Cannons jersey which might have fitted Crookshanks perfectly.
"Thanks, mate." Ron looked genuinely pleased. "Merry Christmas." He cleared his throat. "Your presents are still up in my dorm. I'll distribute them later."
Ginny handed him another package from her pile. This one was flat and squarish, shaped somewhat like a book. "This one's from me." She said. There was a note that came with it. It said 'BEWARE: Do not open within close proximity to anyone, unless you wish to be horribly embarrassed.'
"Thanks, Gin."
Hermione was a bit shy when giving him her present. It was a small, very Ravenclaw-looking package, wrapped in matte silver paper and tied with a blue silk ribbon. She leaned in towards him, whispering, "Don't open it till you're alone-I mean it."
*
Ron could hardly wait to open his gifts. He set them down on his bed and drew the curtains around him. He weighed them in his hand, wondering which he should open first. After much consideration, he placed Hermione's gift on his pillow and started tearing the wrapping paper off Ginny's present. He was saving the best for last.
Ron got rid of the last vestiges of the wrapping, and stared at it. It seemed like some sort of scrapbook. He turned it around in his hand. The word 'Hermione' was printed elegantly in gold manuscript on the cover. Hermione? Hmm. Interesting. Wasn't this supposed to be a present from Ginny?
Ron opened the book. The handwriting on the first page was familiar. It was Ginny's girly, squiggly scrawl in hot pink. Ron squinted to read the words.
Dear Ron,
Merry Christmas! This is my little present to you. You'd better make sure that you're alone now. I'm telling you this to save you from humiliation, so you'd better listen and take heed. Hope you enjoy your present. In fact, I'm fairly certain you will. Take care and, for the last time, ask Hermione to the Yule Ball!
Love, Ginny.
Ron harrumphed. His little sister knew him too well for her own good.
In eager anticipation, he turned to Hermione's package, but, unlike the rest of the packages, he took extraordinary care in undoing the ribbon and peeling off the wrapping paper slowly, making sure not to tear it. After all, this present was special-it was from Hermione.
He carefully slid the wrapper off, and what was left cradled in the palm of his hand was a deep, sapphire blue velvet box. Nestled snugly in the box was a silver pendant. It was heart-shaped and curved delicately around the edges, with a rose-coloured stone set in the middle. Ron could tell straightaway that it wasn't spanking new, nor was it by any means expensive, but he knew that it was something with great sentimental value.
Ron wondered vaguely why Hermione had given it to him. It certainly was a very pretty pendant, but he wasn't about to go around wearing it suspended from a chain. He found a note attached on the underside of the box.
Dear Ron,
Happy Christmas! I wondered about what to give you this Christmas. I thought about it for a while, before I realized that the answer was obvious. You're probably wondering about the pendant, though. I gave it to you first to make sure that I wouldn't chicken out. I'll tell you later at the Yule Ball, alright? Save me the last dance.
Love, Hermione.
*
Ron spun Parvati around a final time before the song ended.
Parvati, who'd forgiven him and Harry for the previous year, smiled at him before going off to find Dean Thomas, her date.
Ron went over to the refreshment stand and ladled himself a cup of iced pumpkin juice. He then went over to an unoccupied table and sat down. In the distance he saw Harry dancing with his sister. He noticed too, with a slight frown, that they were dancing awfully closely.
"Bit of a protective brother, aren't you?" A friendly voice cut into his thoughts.
Ron turned. "Hello, Angelina. Where's Fred?"
Angelina Johnson nudged her head towards the refreshment stand. "Gone off to get us some drinks." She glanced to where Ron was staring. Harry and Ginny had disappeared, replaced by Hermione and a tall, blond Hufflepuff. They were dancing.
Ron's stomach went into a twist. Hermione looked awfully pretty tonight. Her hair was less bushy than usual, done up in a sophisticated French twist. Her robes were a pale, salmon pink in colour, and made of a light, floaty material, making her look more elegant than usual.
Beside him, Ron could feel, rather than see, Angelina smirk. "Gonna tell her tonight?"
Ron felt himself go red at the thought. "I hope so."
Angelina smiled and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "It'll be alright, Ron, but you'd better tell her." She squinted into the distance. "Oops, Fred's being a dunderhead again, gotta go snap some pictures! Ta!" She left.
Ron was left standing there again. He'd been dancing for hours, and the Yule Ball was finally coming to an end. He didn't want to admit it, but this was what he'd been waiting for. 'Save me the last dance,' Hermione had written.
The room grew steadily quiet. The band struck up its final song of the night. It was a slow, romantic song, one meant for lovers, not merely dates. Ron looked across the room at Hermione. Their eyes met across the crowded hall, locked into each other, deep blue into sparkling brown, sparkling brown into deep blue, just like in a fairytale.
Without saying a word, they drew closer. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, Ron wound his arms around her waist; it all came very naturally. As if on impulse, Hermione leaned her head against his chest very softly. Could she hear his heart pounding against his ribcage? They stayed there, completely comfortable in their gentle embrace, swaying slowly to the soft music, listening to it come to an end. Almost hesitantly so, Hermione lifted her head to look at Ron, a contented smile on her face.
"I love you, Mione." Ron said tenderly. He hadn't even been thinking of saying it, but once he did, it sounded so natural, so perfect that it was as if it were perfectly natural for him to be saying it.
Hermione stared up at him with something resembling shock.
Ron's resolve faltered just a bit. He knew Hermione nearly better than she knew herself, but as to how she would react he had no inkling. Would she break into tears, upset and wondering if she had, in any way, lead him on? Would she laugh in his face, disgusted that he'd even considered to think that she might like him? Would she wag her finger angrily in his face, mistakenly thinking that he was making a big joke out of it?
And then, he'd heard them: the last words he'd ever expect to hear.
"I love you too." She said at last, tears pouring forth from her eyes, which were shining with happiness.
He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he did the only thing he could've done at that moment: he smiled.
Hermione smiled back at him.
"Oh, right." Ron said awkwardly, realizing for the first time that his arms were still around her and hers around his neck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box she'd given him for Christmas, and opened it. "What is this, Mione?"
Hermione's face broke into a smile as she saw it. "It's a pendant." she said, stating the obvious. "My granddad gave it to my grandma when they got married. Grandma passed it down to mom, who then gave it to me." Hermione explained. "It's very precious, to me at least. This is. my heart." She was wondering how to tell Ron without coming off sounding like a total idiot. "I give a little bit of it to everyone but I wanted you to have all of it because ultimately, my heart belongs to you." She said sincerely.
Ron stared down at her, at this beautiful, precious, perfect girl and wondered what he'd ever done to deserve her. "You're the best person I know, Mione." He said earnestly. "I love you."
Hermione grinned. She took out her wand and conjured the floating candle above them into a sprig of fresh mistletoe. Then she stood on tiptoes and.
And Ron did the only thing he could have done at that moment: he kissed back.
*