Purely fluff, my friends. No conflict to this story. Nada. Zip. Nothing. But it's a Christmas story, and who doesn't love a Christmas story? (Unless you don't celebrate Christmas. No offense.)
A young man stared out the window. It was twenty degrees and snowing. There were thousands of thoughts raging in his head, a few taking over and worrying him beyond belief.
What if she doesn't come? What if the weather makes her have to stay at home? But that doesn't make sense, weather doesn't affect Apparition. Still … What if she doesn't come? What if the weather makes her have to stay at home?
A voice snapped him out of his daydream.
"Give it a rest, Ron!" suggested Percy haughtily. "She'll come if she wants to."
"You're just jealous because Hermione's coming for Christmas and Penelope's not!" fumed Ron. Percy just walked off silently, his nose about three inches from the ceiling. And it was a high ceiling.
"Good one, little brother," chuckled George. Ron glanced cautiously at him before answering. George had been odd lately, switching back and forth between depressed and his usual happy-go-lucky self after Fred's death. The truth was, he felt guilty having fun without Fred. But he had never, ever told anyone that, especially his many brothers.
"Thanks," replied Ron. "Percy can still be such a prat sometimes. Even after he came back from working at the Ministry, he's still his usual self." George nodded.
"Now, with most people, that would be a good thing," he reflected. "But Percy's usual self is just …" Both boys shuddered. "Percy," finished George disgustedly.
As they were laughing, the faintest of pops reached them- but it was enough for Ron, and he whirled around instantly. He saw a bobbing ponytail of tamed, bushy hair making its way toward his front door. But, oh, no, not just any bobbing ponytail of tamed, bushy hair. That was his very favorite bobbing ponytail of tamed, busy hair.
He ran out the door and caught up with Hermione with ease, his long legs reaching her in only a few strides. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her. She smiled at him.
"Hello, Ron," she greeted him. "It seems like it's been forever since we've all been together. This Christmas is going to be so fun!" She reached up and put her arms around his neck to kiss him on the cheek. Someone cleared their throat behind her. She whirled around, blushing brighter than ever she had before, clasping her hands behind her back. When she saw who it was, she let out a gasp of relief.
"Ginny! Never scare me like that again! I thought you were your mother!" she cried, her hand over her heart and almost collapsing with laughter.
"Good! It worked!" Ginny managed to squeak out before she began laughing uncontrollably, tears rushing down her cheeks.
"Some things I will never understand. School. And giggling," announced Ron, annoyed. But, of course, this only caused the girls to laugh harder, louder, and longer.
"Sorry, Ron," laughed Hermione.
"I'm sorry, too … if I interrupted anything," managed Ginny, before rendering herself once again unable to speak with her laughter. Hermione stopped laughing in order to blush.
"Yes, well. I suppose that's one problem we won't have when Harry shows up next week," replied Ron acidly, glaring.
"Nope. Guess not," replied Ginny, unembarrassed. Ron blushed for her, he was so embarrassed. But before he could say anything, Mrs. Weasley came bustling into sight in the doorway in her familiar robes and apron to greet Hermione.
"Hermione dear!" she called cheerfully. She hurried outside and pecked her on the cheek.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said politely.
"Wonderful to have you, dear," cooed Mrs. Weasley. Then, she announced routinely, "You're incredibly thin, my dear! We'll cure that quick enough. Come in and have a bite to eat."
"But you can't possibly have anything ready! It's ten o'clock in the morning! Right between meals. I can wait until lunch, don't worry. I had breakfast this morning, I'm fine," protested Hermione, as usual.
"No trouble at all," Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder, already halfway to the door. Hermione smiled and shook her head.
"Your mother …" she said fondly to her companions.
"I know," they both replied.
Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway again.
"Ginny!" she called. "Take Hermione's bags up to your room. I'm making pot roast, so hurry if you want some."
Ginny grabbed Hermione's bags and ran off immediately, Ron and Hermione following after her. They sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Mrs. Weasley dished out three heaping portions of roast beef, mashed potatoes, cooked carrots, and gravy. She set the plates down on the table and tactfully left the room as Hermione and Ron began to eat. Ginny ran in moments later.
"I'll get your bags later," she told Hermione through a mouthful of steaming potatoes.
"I'll get them. It's no trouble. Really," emphasized Hermione.
"Okay," agreed Ginny cheerfully. Hermione laughed, and they all ate in silence- a sure way to tell how good the food is.
This visit was much, much different than the last time they'd all been together, for the wedding. For starters, Voldemort was dead. Also, Mrs. Weasley wasn't making them slave over the wedding, so she would let them all actually be able to talk- though she still wouldn't let Ron and Hermione out of her sight.
They were all sitting through another Christina Warbeck Christmas special, the kids laughing over last year's, after which Fleur (who hated Christina) had done her own rendition of "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love". Even when the joke stopped being funny and the special was over, they spent the entire night laughing over one thing or another.
Before, it had been so tense. They had to always worry about who might burst through the door at any minute, and even if they were on their side, what news they might bring. Who might die next. How long they would even live- because surely it couldn't be much longer if something didn't give. Then, they had finally defeated Voldemort.
Now they were free to be normal, free to be typical teenagers, not having to worry about being attacked or killed or anything of the sort. That night, they didn't seem to have a care in the world. And they didn't.
The Christmas of 1998 was on its way to turning out to be the best Christmas any of them could remember.