TITLE: A Christmas Distance
SUMMARY: It's the days on the build up to Christmas, and Hermione is spending it away from her friends and family. She's gone back to Romania to research Potions plants, and she won't return to the Burrow and those she loves until Christmas Eve. It's hurting to be away, but at least she can count the days until Christmas.
PAIRING: Hermione/Bill
A/N: Just a sweet little pre-Christmas one-shot fic. I'm writing this because I'm not with my family on this run up to Christmas, I'm at university. It's kinda hard, but it's making going home all that more exciting!
HPOV
It's already been a month, and I figured that that would have been long enough. In fact, that was all I was meant to be in Romania for - a month. But the company have decided that I need to stay out here longer, and I now don't Portkey home until Christmas Eve. I've never been away from family on the run up until Christmas. Even when we were at school, the boys were there until the end of term, and then I went home to Mum and Dad.
But Mum and Dad aren't - well, they aren't here anymore. They died in Switzerland, their first holiday together since I restored their memories. There was an avalanche. So now Christmas is spent at the Burrow, with the Weasleys, and Harry, and the former Order of the Phoenix. There's always at least twenty people running around, and it's so noisy and warm and loving. And of course, he'll be there.
Bill. I smile to myself as I start examining the roots of some plant. Pretty soon after Fleur left, he moved onto my couch in my little flat after his ceiling came down. He said that he wanted to be independent, and sadly that meant not living with his mother. He couldn't find another flat at short notice, so when I overheard Harry and Ron talking to him about it, I immediately leapt in and offered him my sofa. His face lit up like I'd offered him a master suite, and he accepted at once. I dismissed it as relief that he'd escape Molly's slightly over-protective if loving attention. He patiently slept on my couch for three nights while I got the spare room habitable. In the end, he simply never moved out. He moved in and started paying rent, even though I insisted I didn't want it. I thought he'd given up when he stopped trying to had over money at the end of every month, until I checked my Gringotts balance, and payment statement, and realised he'd used his position to just put it right into my account. He refused to take any of it back, and I just gave up the argument. He'd smirked.
It was Christmas when we got together. I was twenty, he was twenty-five. We were just back from the Burrow on Christmas Eve, wanting an early night so we could be there for presents at seven. Harry was trying to talk Ron's very excited toddler daughter into going to bed so Santa could come, while Ron himself was putting a nappy on baby Fred. Luna, the mother of the pair, was only exacerbating the situation by chatting about Nargles being especially potent at Christmas. Laughing, we both Portkey'd off back to the flat, ignoring Molly's requests that we stay. I didn't fancy a blanket bed on the floor, so we said we'd simply return the next day. We agreed to have a glass of wine and a movie before bed, and one thing had simply led to another. Knowing glances and pointed looks were exchanged when we showed up holding hands. I smile at the memory. That was five years ago. Jenny is now an adorable little eight year old, who looks like Luna and acts like Luna, while Fred is a very naughty five year old, looking for all the world like the Fred he's named for - and acting like him too. Despite hints and out-right pleads from Molly, Bill and I still aren't married. We might one day.
This year, Harry and Ginny will be bringing along James and Lily, the toddler and the baby. Something about Weasley Christmases always demand children. Teddy will be pretending he's too old for Santa, being eight, but still being over-excited and impossible to put into bed. So, that's James, Lily, Fred, Jenny, and Teddy. More than enough children to wear us out completely. I'll be exhausted by lunch time. Bill will, inevitably, drink a touch too much Firewhiskey and then doze off for an hour, whereupon I will curl up on a sofa with Ginny, while the kids are napping, and have a girly catch up. We'll get back to the flat at about eleven, where Bill tends to decide bed is of no use unless he's going to ravish me. I never have any objections. Of course we make love throughout the year, but Christmas love-making is always beautiful.
But all this still leaves me stuck in Romania, thousands of miles away from Bill, and family. I still won't see them until Christmas Eve, it still won't be the same. I won't even get alone time with Bill until that night, because the Portkey will take me directly to the Burrow for one in the afternoon, whereupon I'll be seized by Molly, told I look far, far too thin, plied with sandwiches and tea and snacks until I have to beg for mercy. Then I'll have to talk to Luna about some Romania mythical creature, then I'll have to catch up with everyone in general, and then the children will force me into playing some game. I fully expect to be well past the point of ravishment by the time Bill and I get home. I'm almost certain all I'll be good for is falling into bed and sleeping for a long time. Bill has already told Molly that we will leave the Burrow at seven, so I can get plenty of sleep. Dinner will therefore be at six. I fully expect to go home sleepy, full and warm.
Romania is a beautiful country, and on my last day, I deliberately make a point of going to visit a supposed haunt of Dracula. The guide is very, very good, and I get sufficiently spooked. I pack that night, shrink my truck, put it in the pocket of the robes I will be wearing tomorrow. I will simply shrink the clothes I stand in now, and the nightdress and toiletries I need for tomorrow. All I will have to do is have breakfast, clean the apartment, and then go. I can't wait. It's so nearly Christmas. Everything is warm and happy, lights and songs are everywhere, snow is on the streets, shops are alive with chatter and laughter. I'm going home.
The Portkey lands me smack in the kitchen. It's empty and I can hear chatter and laughter from the living room. I smile, and decide on a surprise. I quietly banish my luggage to the flat, and creep along the corridor. Jenny sees me first.
"Aunty Mione!" she screams happily, dashing towards me. I scoop her up and hug her, blowing a gentle raspberry on her neck to make her giggle. I'm immediately surrounded by people, laughing, hugging, kissing my cheeks. Suddenly, Jenny is taken from my arms, and I'm literally swept off my feet by very familiar and comforting arms. He buries his face in my neck and kisses my pulse, before raising his head and meeting my eager lips with a whisper that's almost a sigh.
"Don't ever go away again."
"Never," I agree, kissing him again. He puts me down, and we remember we aren't alone. Molly is already coming forward with a delicious looking ham and pickle sandwich, and a steaming mug of tea. I am settled on the sofa, home at last, surrounded by my family. It's Christmas Eve, and the man I love is holding me close and tight, kissing my hair at intervals. As I finish up lunch and snuggle into his side, I reflect that this Christmas is shaping up to be one of the best.