CHRISTMAS AT THE CASTLE
Part One
By Marble Plum (Nikki)
Dedicated to Hermione Granger/Katie
Greetings! This is dedicated to the wonderful Katie for her birthday. It stars her favorite ship in the world, Ron/Hermione, and another ship that's near and dear to her heart, Harry/Luna. I also happen to ship both couples. :) The fic is set in their sixth year of Hogwarts with memories of past years popping up. For the sake of the story, Harry really did want Luna to be his date for Slughorn's Christmas party and Hermione has invited Ron. Hope you enjoy it, Katie!!!
PLOT: Flummoxed about gift ideas, Ron and Harry retreat to Diagon Alley in hopes of stumbling upon the perfect Christmas presents for their dates. Some surprise run-ins complicate the matter. Meanwhile, the girls go to the joke shop and emerge with their own presents for the boys. How will the gift exchanges go? One can never tell at Hogwarts.
"Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding," sings Dennis Creevey, running around in the snow. "Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding. Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding..."
He bounds through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade, the pompom on his wool hat bopping up and down. His high-pitched singing carries through the tight corners and above the heads of last minute shoppers. In the five years he's attended Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley has never seen this place so packed. Red holly blossoms, becomes small, and blossoms again on awnings. Non-melting snowflakes hang from silver icicles. Mannequins with changing robes pose in the glass windows. It's an ordinary day in their favorite magical district.
Ron raises his collar to the cold while Harry Potter avoids looking at the alleyway toward Borgin & Burkes when they pass it, presumably out of instinct. He doesn't blame him. It'd be nice to have one holiday where they're not fending off Dementors, worried about the Ministry of Magic, or coming across dark creatures, especially spiders. Ugh, spiders.
"Here we come a-wassailing....," sings Dennis, squeezing between Ron and Harry.
"Nutter," mutters Ron as Dennis disappears from sight.
"What does wassailing mean?" asks Harry.
"It's probably French," guesses Ron.
"I think it's English, mate," says Harry.
"Oh," says Ron, shrugging. "I knew that."
He didn't really, has always had a problem with retention. His best guides weren't books. They had a lot of words he didn't have a use for. No, he retained knowledge from others, particularly from one person. She was hard on him, yes, but he needed that. She was also patient, and her hair and skin glowed by the common room fire, and he'd been asking for parchment lately just so her eyes would lift from her textbook, and...no, he's getting distracted. They came here for a purpose, not to daydream. Hermione hates when he daydreams during their study breaks. Ergh, no, distracted again. He gives Harry a gentle shove to take his mind somewhere else.
"Hey! What was that for?" cries Harry.
"Don't know," replies Ron, his cheeks red as the poinsettas in front of Ollivander's.
"You're going to have a way easier go than me," predicts Harry. "It's not like I can buy Luna a subscription to the Quibbler. She already has that."
"Well, Hermione has read every blinkin' book written, so Flourish and Blotts is out, which is just as good," says Ron. "Looking at the back of Lockhart's book still makes me retch."
"He's a pincushion compared to Umbridge," says Harry.
Ron laughs. "That woman was a giant pink pincushion."
Harry chuckles too, eyes Ron for a minute. Ron halts, momentarily wondering if he had a Cornish pixie on top of his head. He knows Muggles like Cornish hens around this time of year and maybe the two are connected. Maybe a pixie is eating meat above him. Harry's look is that searching.
"What?" prompts Ron.
"I thought you guys were going to Slughorn's party as friends," says Harry.
"We are!" insists Ron. "I just don't want to pick a dodgy present! You're going with Luna as friends."
"But we haven't known each other for very long, have we?" points out Harry. "It may turn into something else. With you guys, it's been years. I should think you'd be a little less stressed out."
"I am less stressed out," says Ron, his voice cracking.
"Right then," says Harry with a smirk.
"Where's my bleeding money?" says Ron, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Rather than wait for a reply, he turns around quickly in a circle, seeking any sanctuary from Harry's probing questions. His vision rests on Honeydukes. Floating lollipops form a line in the storefront window. Jawbreakers spring up from a box. Tweeting chocolate birds are heard from inside when a pair of twin girls exit. Girls. Girls love sweets. He loves sweets. Hermione would probably like them. He was too shy to ask for her robe size or sweater size. Once he asked Ginny, and she looked repulsed, telling Ron he was a real git sometimes. That was her first time using git, which was pretty funny. Ron grins and points at Honeydukes.
"Her parents are dentists!" reminds Harry.
"So nobody else will come here for her presents," wagers Ron.
"I've got no leads," confesses Harry, following him to the door.
Honeydukes has always had friendly help so this would be a cinch. Already, a white-haired woman in a gold apron is approaching them with a smile.
"Jelly Slugs?" says the woman. "You guys look like Jelly Slug fans!"
Harry attempts to cover a laugh with a cough. Ron hits him in the ribs. After throwing up slugs following an accidental spell, he's had enough slugs for a lifetime. He has to save face some way so he talks in his best authoritative tone.
"We're...searching for something for girls," says Ron sheepishly. "As it were."
"Awww, isn't that sweet?" says the woman, pinching Harry's left cheek and Ron's right.
The boys wince, frown at each other once the woman removes her fingers.
"Hmmm, let me think of something that might work for you," says the woman. "We've got Acid Pops, caramel-covered cherries, non-pimple forming nougats, flavored shoelaces......"
Harry brightens up. "Can I take a look at the flavored shoelaces please?"
"Right this way!" says the woman cheerfully.
"Back in a bit," says Harry to Ron.
Great. He's left to his own devices, for the moment. Ron glances around, hoping to find a hint as to what to get for her. Without Harry around, he begrudgingly admits to himself that things have changed enough for him to worry like this. Their first year at Hogwarts, he teased Hermione. It's just that she acted so different from other girls that he didn't know what to make of her. She answered every question in class and reminded everyone about the rules. This continued as she, Harry, and himself grew closer. But after awhile, he got used to her quirks. Sure he still liked to tease her but lately he's been trying to be a lot better with his words. He hated seeing her upset, especially if he was the cause. What's more is that the teasing has become uncomfortable for him. It's become something else. Something sweet? Like telling her that he knows she got an A or tugging her scarf from behind to get her attention. He's not sure what or why lead to the change.
But it's also why he broke things off with Lavender Brown, following the last Quidditch match of the year. She moaned as much as Myrtle and retreated to the washroom after a wail that rung in his ears. Though she was heartbroken, he knew it was for the best. Lavender was always around him and wouldn't back off, even when he was brutally honest with her. Just last week, she recruited the Patil twins to try to manipulate Ron into sitting next to Lavender at the holiday feast. No dice. Ron asked if he should wear his Yule Ball dress robes and the Patils left in disgust. Here's hoping they attempted to convince Lavender to give it up, due to his abhorrent fashion sense.
When Ron turns the corner, he spies someone he disgusts who has tailored, pricey clothes. Draco Malfoy flicks a red licorice dart at an unsuspecting Ravenclaw girl, his drones Crabbe and Goyle chuckling. The girl yelps and runs down the aisle. Ron shakes his head and starts to walk away.
"Hey Weasley!" yells Malfoy. "Making the most of your father's Christmas bonus?"
Gritting his teeth, debating whether to turn around or not, Ron faces him with an eye roll. He was really tired of Malfoy's jabs at his finances and his father's respectable Ministry job. Just because the Malfoys come from money doesn't mean he has to rub it in.
"I don't have time for this," says Ron.
"Saw Potter with you," says Malfoy. "Are you buying your friend a gift? Is he your boyfriend?"
Ron sneers at him. He should go. Malfoy couldn't taunt him if he wasn't there. Only Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle are trailing him now, clearly anxious to bother him.
"Or is it for your other friend, that filthy little Mudblood?" asks Malfoy.
Wow, the ugliest term he's heard at Hogwarts, and about the sixth time Malfoy's said it in his presence. Ron knows exactly who he's referring to. Hermione did nothing to deserve that label or Malfoy's malice. Ron stops in his tracks and walks over to look Malfoy directly in the face. Draco scowls as if he's the one being insulted and draws his wand. Ron has a good three inches on him and regardless of Crabbe and Goyle, he'd take him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a group of Gryffindors gathering, including Harry. He's glad he's not alone but he won't let that show.
"Go on," encourages Ron. "Go on, you lemon-headed wanker."
"What'd you call me?" exclaims Malfoy.
"You heard me, yob!" says Ron. "Anybody connected to Muggles and you get on your high horse like a regular tosser. At least Harry and Hermione weren't part of some lame Inquisitorial Squad that lasted less than a year. I didn't see that Squad fighting against the Dark Lord."
Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and especially Harry chuckle quietly. Malfoy crosses his arms.
"I'll have you know I've moved on to bigger and better things this year," defends Malfoy.
"Like what?" challenges Ron.
"This I'd like to hear," speaks up Harry.
Instead, Malfoy goes uncharacteristically mute, staring over their heads. Ron views Narcissa, beckoning Malfoy to her.
"You're lucky I have important family business to attend to," says Malfoy.
He brushes past Ron, glaring at the other Gryffindors on the way.
Ron beams. Whoa, did that really happen? Did he stand up to Malfoy? What lead him to do it? Could it have been the mentioning of her name? It's been like that before. He pats his chest to see if he's still there, still the winner of their verbal spat. His friends confirm it by clapping soundly.
"Brilliant," congratulates Harry.
"It was nothing," says Ron, blushing.
"I got Luna shoelaces," says Harry. "This way, even if somebody takes her shoes, she'll always have laces. Oh and of course the decorations for her nargle necklace."
Harry holds up a basket of flavored shoelaces: strawberry, grape, apple, and cream soda. Next to the packages sits a box of butterbear caps, the very same that adorn Luna's everpresent necklace to keep away nargles.
"Oh no," groans Ron.
"What is it?" says Harry, tenderly holding his purchases.
"You're being all...thoughtful," says Ron, then letting his voice drop.
"That isn't the idea?" says Harry.
"That's a totally Luna gift!" cries Ron. "You're making me look bad."
"Well, you're defending Hermione's honor," says Harry. "I mean, you don't get more thoughtful than that."
Ron holds up a finger to make a point only to stare cluelessly at his best friend. Heh, he's right.
"Just transfer the thoughtfulness to a gift," recommends Harry. "That's all."
That's easy for him to say. Luna is constantly spouting off unfamiliar, but memorable things without Harry having to ask. Since Hermione thought he had "the emotional range of a teaspoon", she wasn't as forthcoming with him about her feelings. In fact, that had lead to many a stumble between them. He didn't believe her when she said somebody asked her to the Yule Ball. Then, he had to swallow in the sight of her dancing the entire night with Krom. With his luggish feet, adds Ron mentally. She said she would've been willing to go with him if he asked but that was after the Ball was over. What did she want him to do? Okay, he kind of suspected what she wanted. Still, that was only "kind of". This year, she refused to hang around with him and Lavender. It might've been because they were snogging right before she showed up but if she asked them not to do it, he would've told Lavender to rest her lips for a spell. So imagine his surprise when she sat down on the couch of the common room where he was sitting, grimacing at the new green R sweater his mother knitted, and invited him to the party.
"Ummm, nice sweater," said Hermione.
Ron glanced at her and then they both speedily stared at the fireplace, as if Sirius were speaking to them from the fire again. That's not possible, thought Ron sadly. He wrapped the sweater sleeve around his arm. After Hermione stayed with the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, they weren't as hesitant to spend time alone together at Hogwarts. Hermione became his frequent study partner and she'd gotten really good at wizard's chess, which they had more time for after OWLs. In fact, she was getting as good as him, which he'd hate to admit. So there was nothing out of the ordinary when she approached him. Maybe she wanted to borrow notes, he thought. Then, he felt foolish because Hermione would've been the one with the notes and he would've been the one to ask. Ron's ears stung.
"It's new, anyway," said Ron. "Early Christmas present."
"If your mother took the time, you should wear it at least once," said Hermione. "Around the house if you're so bothered."
"Any place where Dean and Seamus won't be," mumbled Ron.
Hermione crossed her legs, and shifted her robe. She clenched and unclenched her hands. Was she waiting for him to say something else? He guessed the gentle scolding was over at any rate.
"I heard...about you and Lavender," said Hermione.
"Right," said Ron. "But...it was bound to happen, I guess."
Nodding her understanding, Hermione briefly touched his knee. They both looked at it and she took it away after a few seconds. Ron cleared his throat.
"Ummm, has Harry told you about Slughorn's holiday party?" asked Hermione. "He asked me personally to come. I really should study, but seeing as even Dumbledore respects him, and I want to maintain a good average, maybe...maybe I should go."
"Slughorn didn't invite me," said Ron.
"Why not?" said Hermione.
"We all know he's got favorites," said Ron. "I didn't make the cut. You and Harry did."
"Well, one person's opinion shouldn't upset you," insisted Hermione. "Besides, Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, and he's the greatest wizard I've ever met."
Ron shrugged, smiled down at his sweater. It was nice of Hermione to remind him of that. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived like Harry, or a Ministry member like his father or Percy, or a top-ranked student like Hermione, but he liked getting a compliment all the same. He didn't get a lot of them.
Bracing her hands on the table, Hermione sighed and nodded authoritatively.
"I think you should come along...to the party," said Hermione.
"What?" cried Ron.
"I mean...I mean, since you've done so much for the school!" stammered Hermione. "I'm allowed to invite someone of my choosing...."
"So...you're choosing me?" said Ron.
He could hardly process it. Did she want him to go as her date? A date where they'd be sitting next to each other, like they are now? Where they'd be having conservations, like they are now? But it wouldn't be exactly like it was then. It would have the word "date"...in front of everything!
Hermione let out a low laugh and looked away at a portrait, where two lovers were fighting under a balcony.
"It's...it's not about choosing anyone," said Hermione. "Slughorn needs to be more open-minded. You'd be supporting a statement, highlighting a theory."
The change in vocabulary didn't escape him, nor did the stammering or the fact that her cheeks were flushed. The room was warm so her cheeks weren't red because it was cold. He didn't want to reveal the reason his own cheeks were warm.
"Ummm, so in theory, this is a date?" said Ron.
Reluctantly, Hermione sighed and stared at him. She smiled softly in the dim room.
"In terms of being an escort?" said Hermione. "Yes. But you'd...have to accept...obviously. So....do you?"
The answer had been in the back of his mind right after she brought it up, because Hermione herself had always been in the back of his mind. When he was avoiding Lavender, it was because she was getting obnoxious. She was a great girl, but way too into the relationship. When he was avoiding Hermione, it was because it was...confusing. He'd constantly ask himself why he cared that she saw them kissing or celebrating after Quidditch matches or holding hands in the courtyard. His mind would swirl with questions. Then again, weren't they a question themselves? Should they stop dancing around it? Should they give it a try? The only way to answer any of this is to give her the answer to this first question, the answer they both might want.
"Yes...obviously," replied Ron, nodding.
Hermione hunched her shoulders in anticipation while Ron grinned at his knees. They listened to the fire crackle for a bit until Hermione spoke again.
"Oh...it's...it's late," said Hermione. "I still have some packing to do for holiday break."
"Books?" guessed Ron warmly.
"Not just...books," defended Hermione lightly. "There's pencils too."
Ron chuckled. It was probably his turn to say something.
"Um, I wonder how Muggle dates go," said Ron. "I assume the guy...picks the girls up."
Hermione gave him a blank look, but laughed anyway. Yes, it was clear to both of them that he was fishing for what he should do.
"Or...not?" said Ron.
"We'll...we'll meet here," provided Hermione. "They do that, too. I mean, meet at the same place to go to the same place."
Of course. Ugh, why did he get so tongue-tied and anxious around her? It could get only get worse on their date. That's when he decided to get her gift, to smooth things over. Then, the gift could do the talking. Brilliant. Ron commended himself.
"Half past seven?" said Hermione.
"That works," said Ron. "I'll be here...by the couch. Standing probably."
"Okay...okay, good," said Hermione. "Wear the sweater if you'd like."
They exchanged a final smile, Hermione ascending the steps to the girls' tour. No one entered the room throughout their conversation. Luck. He almost believed he'd swallowed Harry's Felix Felicis again. He was going out with Hermione and that's better than luck, better than anything.
"Oh yes," says a voice, breaking him free from his reverie. "You definitely look gone, like your friend said."
Ron shakes himself, the very real Honeydukes replacing the dreamy existence of the common room. The employee who helped Harry is standing next to him.
"Actually, I said he was mental," kids Harry.
"Well, I don't know what that means, but you definitely have stars in your eyes," teases the woman. "Can I interest you in some edible mistletoe?"
"Blimey! A snack that you can use to snog," says Ron.
"Hmmm, when you put it like that, maybe there's something else," says the woman. "Oh I know! You can take advantage of our Build A Basket sale. You personally select what to give the person and we arrange the basket for you."
That did sound good. That way, if one item was totally wrong, she'd have a few others that might be right. Plus it was personal. Ron removes his Galleons from his pocket. If only he had unlimited funds. He glances over at Harry, who raises his eyebrows in amusement.
"This is thoughtful?" asks Ron.
"Definitely," says Harry.
"I'll go with that, then," says Ron.
Harry claps Ron on the back, the woman hurrying to collect a wide golden basket with a pretty purple ribbon on the top. Hermione liked purple. This is working out already.
The door of Honeydukes swings open. A familiar, tall, fully smiling student comes in with two other guys in tow. Ron squints his eyes. Cormac McLaggen, his former rival for Keeper and beloved member of the Slug Club, picks up a bouquet of rose-shaped lollipops and sniffs them. His buddies elbow him.
"Think that'll do the trick, Cor?" asks his friends.
"Are you kidding?" says Cormac. "I've been chatting Granger up for days. What girl would turn down Slughorn's favorite member?"
Ron wrinkles his nose in confusion. Did he mean Hermione? He thought she couldn't stand him, and who could blame her? Cormac was a cocky little cockroach. At least Krom was good at Quidditch, not that Ron was Krom's biggest fan anymore. But Hermione didn't keep in touch with Krom that much anymore. Cormac is ten times worse and they've been getting closer?
"I thought he liked Harry best," says his other friend.
"Alright, it's a race between us," waves off Cormac. "But once I'm dating Hermione, we'll be top of the heap. A power couple. Why wouldn't she want to hook up? I mean, I'm buying her the most expensive thing in the store."
"You sure know how to treat a girl, Cor," says the first friend who spoke.
"It's all in the wallet," says Cormac. "Girls like to be impressed. It makes them hot."
"Gross," whispers Harry.
Ron shushes him. He had to find out if Hermione was interested or if Cormac is simply bluffing. If he isn't, why would Hermione ask him out? Why would she say nothing to him between then and now? The party is tomorrow.
"You're a step up from Weasley, that's for sure," assures Cormac's other friend.
"I know," says Cormac, tugging at his tie. "But Ron and Hermione? That's all a load of nothing. People kept saying that they suspected something and it's nothing. What is Weasley? Nothing."
Dropping his eyes, Ron steadies himself, because he feels a sudden urge to drop into the aisle and sulk. If this is who he is going to be with at the Slughorn Christmas party, he'd rather stay away. Even if Hermione did like him, she wouldn't by the end of the night with slime like Cormac bashing him. She'd start believing it, and he might start believing it himself, if he doesn't already. Ron shakes his head and walks past Harry.
"What about the gift?" asks Harry from behind.
He heads for the exit, momentarily staring at the woman who waves the empty basket at him. He might come back, or might not. But he can't stay here.
"What about it?" says Ron, pushing his way out of Honeydukes.
To be continued...
