A/N: My apologies for any grammatical errors or errors in time frame. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.
The home of Hermione Granger on Christmas Eve was bleak at best, and downright depressing at worst. One would think that it wasn't a holiday at all when they walked into her one bedroom apartment, only to be met with a cozy fire, sans stockings, cookies on the counter, store-bought since she couldn't be bothered, and an ill-tempered cat, that would gleefully attack anyone who showed up uninvited.
Hermione chose to keep her home in the state that it was in, knowing that it deterred visitors at this time of year; and she really didn't want visitors. This was his favorite holiday. She could take it or leave it, personally, never having been all that excited to celebrate the arrival of a fictional character that illegally broke into your house, stole your food, and then left a large mess behind. No, she was much happier to just let the days pass as if they were just like any other days.
This specific day we find our favorite book worm curled up in a big squishy arm chair by her cozy fireplace, a book in hand and a cup of lukewarm tea sitting on the stand by her elbow. She isn't reading her book, however, as her eyes have long glazed over while staring into the fire, remembering the past Christmases she'd shared with her loved ones.
1985
"Mummy?" A tiny girl of about six years old, sporting a set of ear-muffs over top of a head of riotous curls questioned the woman next to her, which could undoubtedly be her mother, as the only difference between the two was their height.
"Yes, Hermione, dear? Have you decided what you'd like for Christmas?" The woman seemed distracted as she looked both ways before crossing the busy road while holding onto her daughter's hand.
"Yes, mummy. I would like the complete work of Charles Dickens, as well as a new book shelf for my room. My old one won't fit another thing!" This exclamation had the child's mother smiling in indulgence; of course her young daughter would want more books! That's the only thing the girl ever wanted.
"Well, I'm sure Father Christmas would bring you whatever you asked for, you're always so well-behaved, after-all." At the mention of Father Christmas, the young girl looked confused. Why would her mother feed her that lie about someone whom she didn't even know coming to their home and bringing presents? Didn't her mother know that she was too old to believe the lies?
"Ok, mummy." She opted not to argue with her mother; she may look serene and often overindulge her only child, but she was a force to be reckoned with if one upset her. It seemed that attempting to force her daughter to believe in Father Christmas was going to be one of those things that you just didn't question.
"When we get home, you can write to Father Christmas and tell him what you would like. I'll be sure to drop the letter in the post tomorrow on the way in to work." Young Hermione pondered this for a moment before she was unable to stop herself from responding.
"Mummy, why couldn't we just call Father Christmas? He has all of the capabilities in the world to create everything that a child could ask for, but he can't take a phone call? He has to respond to letters? Wouldn't that take longer?" This gave the girl's mother pause, as she was unaware that the young girl no longer believed in Father Christmas.
"Well, I'm sure he would be too busy to answer all of the phone calls that he got, and maybe he has help with reading the letters." It sounded like even the woman was unsure of the answer she gave, but young Hermione decided to drop the argument as they were almost done with running their errands.
Hermione felt as if she never truly did believe in Santa, although her parents tried for years following that conversation with her mother when she was six to keep the magic alive for her. Their efforts were not as appreciated at the time as they were so many years later.
She would never forget the magic that surrounded her during her first Christmas season spent at Hogwarts. That was probably the first time that she ever truly believed in magic, as she could see it for herself. Even then, though, the magic was explainable.
1991
The Great Hall was decorated with many large Christmas trees, which Hermione later counted out to be twelve, there was snow falling from the enchanted ceiling, and there were large beautiful bows, holly, and evergreen strewn about the house tables. Hermione's eyes lit up when she saw this for the first time, Christmas really could be magical!
She'd already gotten her shopping done for Harry and Ron, a box of Chocolate Frogs and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, respectively. She didn't know the two well enough yet to get anything more sentimental than that, as their friendship had really only started about six weeks before that during the Halloween Feast. Already the two boys were the best friends she'd ever had; she was never well-liked as a child.
As if being thought of summoned them, the two boys she'd been thinking of came crashing into the Great Hall in search of breakfast. She would be going home shortly, but both boys would be staying. Her family always went skiing during the holiday season, as her parents rarely got any time off from their dental practice. She said her good-byes to them and went off to make sure that everything was packed and ready to go.
That was probably the only time that she'd ever truly enjoyed Christmas magic, that first Christmas season at Hogwarts. She sometimes regretted not staying that holiday to spend more time with her friends, and perhaps see more of that magic. Growing up as a Muggle, she never could get enough magic in her life.
Her thoughts turned a bit dark as she remembered one particular Christmas that she almost missed entirely.
1997
They were starving, her and Harry, Ron having long since left them for dead. They decided that now was as good a time as any to go to Godric's Hollow, having put it off for as long as possible. The village was eerily empty when they first arrived, and it took a bit for them to realize that there were Christmas carols being sung inside of the old church nearby. It struck the two of them that it was Christmas Eve, as they set off to look through the grave yard by the church.
Harry's parents grave seemed so bare in the darkness with the snow covered ground that Hermione managed to conjure up a Christmas wreath to place on it, despite being so weak from hunger, lack of sleep, and the Horcrux that constantly weighed heavy around her neck.
Everything seemed to happen so fast from there, one minute they'd managed to find the Potter's cottage that had been destroyed years before with all the uplifting messages on the plaque out front, the next they were struggling in a fight against a snake wearing a woman's skin as a suit.
The battle was quick, the two managed to escape, but Harry's wand was broken into pieces. Harry's already sour mood turned worse after that.
That whole year had been rough though, one fight after another, one death after another. Her mind jumped to the following year, they were all still healing at that point, to her first, and only, Christmas as a couple with Ron.
1998
"Hermione, I just don't understand why you don't want to come with me to the office Christmas party! I would go to your thing if you had one!" Ron never knew when to quit, never quite understood when he'd pushed too far. She was visiting during her break from school, opting to go back for her eighth year, unlike Harry and Ron who'd joined the Auror Academy right after the Final Battle. She just wanted to spend a nice quiet evening with her boyfriend, but apparently he couldn't be bothered with just staying in and snuggling on the couch.
"Because, Ronald, I would rather spend time with just you, but apparently those feelings are not reciprocated! Go to your stupid party, Ronald, I'm going back to Hogwarts!" With a flourish of her wand, she'd packed all of her things, slammed the lid of her trunk closed, and disappeared into the green flames of the fireplace.
As for Ron, he'd gone to the party as if nothing had happened.
Hermione went back to her dormitory; it was deserted besides herself as she was head girl that year. The head boy was Draco Malfoy, but he was so withdrawn ever since the Final Battle, that he never gave her an ounce of trouble. For all she knew, he could have been sitting in the next room, listening to her cry.
That was another regret that she had. She wished that she would have attempted some sort of relationship with Draco. The two stayed in touch, one might even call them friends, but it was never more than that. Maybe if she'd gotten involved with him, she wouldn't have found herself in the compromising position the following year.
1999
The Weasleys always did know how to throw a party. Molly, as she insisted on being called, had gone all out with the food, inviting all surviving order members and their families, as well as Dumbledore's Army and their families, she even invited some of the assorted Slytherins that Hermione had grown fond of in her last year of Hogwarts, although none of them were brave enough to walk right into the lion's den.
Christmas Eve dinner was over, everyone was uncomfortably full, the drinks were flowing freely, Celestina Warbeck howled in the background, and everyone was feeling merry, as well as a bit tipsy. Hermione was invited to stay in Ginny's room for the night, as it was tradition for everyone to be home for Christmas. She made it a point to briefly talk to Ron when she'd first gotten there, but having heard numerus rumors while she'd been at school, and then after when she started working at the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she knew that he was sleeping around and that she didn't really want anything to do with him at that point.
The one whom her eyes kept getting drawn to that night, was Fred Weasley. He'd undergone a horrible accident during the Battle of Hogwarts that resulted in him being in a magically induced coma for nine months. This was his first Christmas since the Battle, but he was still managing to be his usual merry, bright self. She had always envied the twins their ability to still be impressed by magic, their thirst for the knowledge to keep others in suspense as well as laughter, and their brilliance. She had always worked so hard to learn and perfect everything that she did in school, and since school, but the twins made everything they did look effortless.
Apparently her staring wasn't as subtle as she'd thought in her drunken state, as she looked up once more to lock eyes with a certain Weasley twin. He waggled his eyebrows at her, resulting in an embarrassed blush to spread across her cheeks at having been caught ogling. She turned to engage Molly in another conversation about how she was much too skinny and didn't eat enough, thinking that Fred would forget about catching her staring. She made it a point for the rest of evening to look anywhere but at the twins; she found it surprisingly difficult to do so.
As she was getting ready for bed that night, she had to run down to the bathroom to brush her teeth. The breath was quickly knocked out of her when she was grabbed around the waist, pushed against a wall, and had a hand pressed over her mouth. She had to fight every instinct she had not to attack the person that was currently holding her against the wall; she knew that the person was not a rogue Death Eater. It took her mind a moment to realize that one of the twins was the culprit, and upon this realization, she bit down on the hand that was across her mouth.
"Ow! Bloody Hell, Granger!" Ah, Fred then. She let him rant for a moment about the bite, holding back her laughter that his little prank back-fired. Once he calmed down enough to see her eyes twinkling with laughter, he scooped her up and took her into his childhood bedroom, closing the door behind them.
"Fred, what is this? I was just trying to get my teeth brushed before bed." He looked at her for a moment, hesitating before lowering his lips to hers. She was too shocked at first to respond, but that shock wore off quickly and soon she was responding to his ministrations. It didn't take long for him to have her back pressed against his door, her legs wrapped around his hips, the two grinding against each other. It didn't take long for him to have her pressed into his bed, their naked bodies sliding against one another, her hair flared out across his pillow. And it didn't take long for him to have her convinced that this was the best Christmas ever.
A smile graced her lips at that memory, he always was so persuasive. They spent several years only hooking up over the holidays, but remaining friends the rest of the year. Fred always said that Christmas was his favorite time of year, going so far as to occasionally sprinkle her sparse apartment with Christmas themed accoutrements.
Last Christmas was hard on her though, he showed up to his family home with a date. She'd been looking forward to being with him once again in his old bedroom at his parent's house, in the dark of night after everyone else was in bed, but she knew she was being selfish the minute that her heart dropped upon seeing him with said date. She should be happy that he found someone to be with all of the time, and not just sexually one time of the year.
But it still broke her heart for some reason.
2004
Hermione was laughing at something Bill said about setting her up with someone that he worked with, she just couldn't stop picturing a ugly, twisted goblin, and that had Bill laughing too. Her body seemed to know the minute that Fred walked in the room though, all of her nerve endings immediately standing at attention. Bill gave a curious quirk of his eyebrow, having noticed her change in demeanor; he'd known about their odd relationship from the start due to his heightened sense of smell, but was aware that they weren't actually committed to the one another.
When she turned to see Fred, George, and Angelina Johnson enter the house through the front door, she felt her stomach drop to the floor. She did her absolute best to smile and be happy to see the old Gryffindor alumni walking next to the twins. She'd known that Angelina and Fred were seeing each other back in school, but that was years ago now. He hadn't mentioned seeing anyone last time she'd shown up at the shop to help look through one of the twins' inventions; she did that about once or twice a month when they got stuck in their experimentation. She was coming to cherish those moments in which someone treated her normally.
She had started in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as Deputy Head last April and quickly grew weary of all the sucking up she had to endure. She was making quick work of several pro-pureblood laws that she wanted eradicated, the first of which was one that stated only pureblood males could hold the title of Minister for Magic; it was set to go before the Wizengamot at their next session in January.
Dinner was just as jovial as always, everyone was passing around baby James, laughing at the twins' latest joke objects, and questioning one another as to what their newest projects were. Hermione quickly recapped her basic plan at her job, Harry was smiling proudly at her, and then Neville talked about how he was going to be starting an apprenticeship at Hogwarts the following year. Everyone was in a wonderful mood, except perhaps Hermione, although she hid it well.
She didn't drink near as much as she normally did, opting to plead some excuses as to why she would be unable to stay the night. She promised to be back first thing in the morning for the gift exchange portion of the holidays, and ducked out early.
She still didn't like to think about why she was so badly hurt that night. She knew that Angelina spent quite a bit of time at the shop, the exactly three times she'd gone there in the last year, she'd been there. It hurt every time, so she just eventually stopped going to the shop. If she noticed that there were fewer new products over the past year, well she was sure that was just a coincidence.
She had already declined the Weasley's invitation for Christmas that year, citing too much work as the reason. It was, of course, a lie, but the only people who were aware of that were Harry and Ginny Potter. The Potters would stop by the next day and fill her in on everything that was going on with the family and any news there might be.
She reached to take a sip of her tea, making a face upon finding it to be tepid. She decided that it was time to go to bed, no sense in staying awake and wallowing in more difficult memories. Crookshanks batted at her toes as she was getting dressed for bed, resulting in her scooping him up and setting him on the bed. The old cat wasted no time in settling down on the bed while Hermione walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
She was engulfed in those memories of Christmases past, finding that even just brushing her teeth that night pulled on her heartstrings. Trying not to let the tears fall, she took her flannel robe off and hung it on the back of her bedroom door, revealing a plain white tank top and flannel pajama bottoms. She snuggled down into her bed, pulling the blanket up over herself and Crookshanks.
She was woken up to the sound of someone banging on her front door. As long ago as the war was, her instincts never went away. She was creeping through her apartment with her wand in one hand before her mind even processed what was happening. She peaked through the peep hole in the door to find a certain red head that she'd been thinking of standing on the other side. He looked desperate, and for some reason that is what had her opening the door.
The two locked eyes, her in confusion at his presence, him in concern and desperation. She dare not breathe. Why was he there? He was supposed to be at The Burrow, being all happy and celebrating his favorite holiday. Eventually one of them was going to have to speak.
"Why didn't you come tonight?" She actually couldn't stop the massive eye roll that accompanied his question. She let out a sigh and moved away from the door so that he could follow her in; she motioned to the couch, heading into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea. She puttered around in silence, giving herself an extra few moments to gather her thoughts. She certainly wasn't expecting him to show up here.
She brought out two cups of tea, his already prepared with milk and sugar, hers black with one sugar, and handed him his. He murmured a quiet thank you, taking a sip before setting down his cup on the coffee table in front of him. She kept her cup in her hands, as she sat in the armchair across from the table, taking several fortifying sips as she decided what to say to the man in front of her.
"What do you want, Fred?" Definitely not her most intelligent question streak, but he did just wake her up at one in the morning, after all.
"I asked you a question first, Mi." That was his nickname for her, and one she hadn't heard in two years, since the last time they were intimate. It forced her to think back to when he first arrived, she did recall that he'd asked her a question at the door.
"I think you know why, Fred. There's no reason to discuss this." She hid behind her tea cup again, taking a non-existent sip out of the now empty cup.
"I'm disappointed in you, Mi. You're supposed to be a Gryffindor, and yet I feel like you've been running from me for a year now." He wasn't wrong, that is exactly what she'd been doing. She was embarrassed at having been caught, even though she knew the twins were both brilliant and should have known that they wouldn't have let it fly when she removed herself from their lives completely.
"Fine, Fred. You want to know the truth? I tried really hard to be happy for you, you know! When you showed up last year with Angelina I knew that I had to be happy because you found someone to have a real relationship with, instead of whatever we were. It hurt more than it should have, that's why I haven't been by the shop recently. The fact that I work all the time is just a convenient excuse. Is that what you want to hear?" At some point she'd rose to her feet and planted her fists firmly on her hips, her voice rising the whole time. She stopped to put up a silencing charm around her apartment, nothing good ever came from waking up the neighbors in the middle of the night.
Fred looked dumbfounded. Did he really not know? How could he not know? She thought she'd been so obvious this whole time. Now she really was feeling out of her element, she rarely ever felt stupid for an assumption, or for any reason really.
"What? How could I not have seen it?" He looked troubled now, like he was the one with the issues, not her. He took a deep breath before making eye contact with the woman sitting across from him. "Tonight after dinner, George asked Angelina to marry him; since they've been seeing each other for over a year now."
The silence settled around them, quickly becoming deafening. Hermione was thinking back to last Christmas, realizing that she'd made quite the ass of herself. She should have asked more questions at the time, she shouldn't have avoided him all year, she should have said something about her feelings years ago.
"Fuck!" She dropped her head into her hands, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the floor. She didn't hear him cross over to her, but did feel his hands tugging her arms down. He captured her lips with his, and it was like coming home. Shame on her for giving this up for so long; shame on her for just automatically thinking that he would forget about her.
She slid her pants down before hopping up and wrapping her legs around his waist, her breasts pressing against him through the thin fabric of her white tank top. Fred waved his wand, not wanting to waste any more time, causing them both to be totally nude. He sat back onto the arm chair she'd been sitting in, reaching down to make sure she was ready before lining up with her and sliding her dripping cunt down over his throbbing member. They both gasped in unison, her head going back to expose her throat to his ministrations.
Fred nibbled up her neck, holding still inside of her to give her time to get used to the intrusion, ending his upwards path with a tender kiss. They moved slowly together, making love for the first time. He held her hips down, pressing his thumb into her clit to push her over the edge as he found his own climax. She collapsed against him, him still deep inside of her. He stroked her hair, settling her face against his neck. The two just held one another for a moment, gaining back the ability to walk.
Once he felt he could brave it, Fred stood up, taking Hermione with him. He threw her over his shoulder, causing a surprised shriek of laughter to escape from her throat. He carried her into her bedroom, dropping her unceremoniously onto her bed, startling Crookshanks in the process. The cat ran out of the room, amidst the couple's laughter.
Fred snuggled in next to her, pulling the blankets up over their naked bodies. Hermione settled against his chest with a contented sigh, entwining her legs with his.
"You know this means we're official now, Mi. No more running from me." She could only smile in response, lean up to kiss him on the nose, and quietly whisper her agreement to his demand. "Happy Christmas, Mi."
As she was settling down to go to sleep, she thought that maybe Christmas could be her favorite time of year, too.
A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone! Please review!