Giving
Author's Note: Originally published on September 29, 2012
"Ow, bugger!"
Ron Weasley couldn't help but yelp loudly after tripping heavily over a half-hidden crate of Wildfire Whiz-bangs. His bleary eyes had enough trouble seeing in the dimly lit storeroom without the tears of pain now forming due to his own clumsiness.
He was already exhausted, and dragging himself up off the dusty floor proved to be a feat. He finally collapsed into one of the dilapidated chairs spread around the room, gingerly rubbing his quickly bruising shin. He paused to apply a Healing Charm, reducing the pain to an aching throb. Letting out a deep sigh, Ron ran his hand through his hair for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.
The shop was extremely busy now that the holiday season was underway, which meant his days were spent stocking and selling. He momentarily regretted his decision to beg George for some additional shifts, but he wanted the money to do something extra special for Hermione during their first Christmas together as a couple. They'd only have a short amount of time before she went back to Hogwarts, so Ron desired to make the most of it.
If only he could think of something perfect... without resorting to asking her outright what she wanted.
He was aiming for something memorable, especially since several of their past Christmases had been rubbish. He frowned, recalling how poorly the season had gone for them over the years—time spent in the hospital wing, arguments, attacks, Lavender, and worst off all, his abandonment during the search for Horcruxes.
He knew he had a lot to make up for, even if she didn't see it that way. During their time in Australia, they'd had a lot of time to talk about everything that had previously come between them. It had given them both the opportunity to make their peace and move on with their eyes towards their future. Yet, that didn't stop the deep pang of guilt he still felt when he thought about how badly his behaviour had hurt her. It made him sick to think about her so unhappy.
Though dead on his feet, he knew the shelves weren't going to stock themselves. George insisted he do it without the aid of magic, due to the volatility of the inventory. Ron argued against this, but it was still his brother's shop, and he was sure George derived some pleasure from working him like a house elf. Their products were in high demand for the first Christmas since the end of the war, and lately, his nights had been filled with this tiring and monotonous task.
As he reluctantly stood up to continue, the storeroom door swung open and George entered cautiously, brightly lit wand in hand. He was followed closely by his friend Angelina, who had been helping out more and more during the busy season.
"All right there, Ron? Sounded like a first-year squealing back here."
Ron flashed his brother a sour look. "Tripped over a box."
"Watch those bloody big feet of yours! If you break anything, it'll come out of your pay."
Ron's only answer to that was a yawn, though he would have had more to say if he wasn't so worn out.
"Hush, George," Angelina scolded. "Ron, you look absolutely knackered. Why don't you head home and get some sleep? I think we can finish up here."
"I'm fine for a bit longer," he argued half-heartedly before letting out another cavernous yawn.
He suddenly felt like Hermione must have, when she was up late studying for O.W.L. exams back in their fifth year. His thoughts quickly drifted to that time, remembering how he used to sneak peeks at her when she was so concentrated on her studies.
As though possessed by some long-hidden mastery of Legilimency, George nudged Angelina. "Ickle Ronnie just wants some extra galleons to surprise his better half. You wouldn't deprive him of that, would you?"
She let out a quiet laugh and swatted George lightly on the arm. "I think it's very sweet of you, Ron. What are you planning to do?"
He threw his hands up despondently. "I don't know. Any suggestions... besides a book?"
"Sorry, I know I'd love a new set of Quidditch gloves," she stopped and looked pointedly at George, who blushed slightly, before continuing. "Though I have a feeling those wouldn't be high on Hermione's wish list."
Ron nodded glumly in agreement, and tried to rub the tiredness out of his drowsy eyes.
"However, what I do know is that you're not going to be able to spend any time with your girlfriend if you sleep through the entire holiday. Go home."
Just as George began protesting that she didn't have the authority to send anyone home, Ron slipped on his coat, gave them a quick wave and turned on the spot.
He quietly arrived at the edge of the garden, cursing the wards which prevented him from Apparating directly into the kitchen, or even better, his bed. He knew the wards were necessary to keep away the various reporters and well-wishers looking for Harry or his family, but that knowledge didn't make them any less of an annoyance.
It was just past midnight as he made his way down the frosty path, the specks of ice embedded in the snow shining like diamonds in the cool moonlight. He quietly pushed open the rickety back door of the Burrow and entered his family's home. The flickering shadows dancing on the kitchen walls and the coppery light emanating from the living room fireplace caught him by surprise as he stepped into the kitchen, wholly accustomed to the usual darkness which had been greeting him lately.
Ron's brow scrunched in confusion as his eyes surveyed the bare tabletop. His mum usually left a plate out for him on the kitchen table, fresh and hot thanks to a Warming Charm. Disappointed, he decided to find out who was up at this hour. He padded through the kitchen and peered into the living room, stopping short in the doorway when he caught his mum staring blankly into the fire, tightly gripping her knitting needles. He immediately felt uncomfortable, intruding on what seemed to be a private moment.
He quietly cleared his throat, breaking his mum out of her thoughts. She looked up and gave him a sad smile.
"Oh, hello dear. I can fix you something if you're hungry."
She turned away, first staring at the bright blue wool sitting on the armrest of her overstuffed chair, then moving it delicately to her lap. He could see tears trapped in the corners of her eyes, on the verge of falling.
"Er, is something wrong? What are you doing up this late?"
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to work on the Christmas jumpers." She nodded stiffly towards the pile of folded garments near her feet. He could see a bold 'G' emblazoned on the topmost one.
Ron took a tentative step forward. "Mum?"
She let out a choked sob and clutched at the wool, her hands shaking as she looked up at him again. "I bought enough for two identical blue ones; I didn't even realize it at the time."
He momentarily forgot his weariness and discomfort as he made his way over to her. Dropping down to his knees, he tentatively wrapped her in a comforting hug—something he hadn't done in years. She was the one who usually initiated the hugs.
Molly squeezed her youngest boy tightly and let the tears flow, the drops of sorrow soaking into his dusty and garishly decorated Wheezes robes.
He held her for a few minutes, allowing her shaking to fade away and her body to relax into a calmer state. She pulled back and kissed him on the forehead, then ran a hand through his long, dishevelled ginger locks.
"You need a haircut."
"Mum, you're mental," he groaned.
"Tut, that's no way to speak to your mother," she stated with a fleeting grin.
She wiped her tear tracks with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Ron."
He blushed and awkwardly stood back up, scratching the back of his neck. "No problem."
She forlornly fingered the material in her hands and sighed. "I already bought enough for the rest of the family. I'll have to use this for something else, I suppose."
The blush on Ron's cheeks deepened as he stared past his mum, unable to look her in the eyes as he faintly voiced a suggestion. "What about a Weasley jumper for Hermione? It would mean a lot to... both of us."
His mum's eyes softened and she smiled. "I always wanted to make her one, but I didn't know how she would feel about it. I know she has her own family, and I didn't want to insult her or to presume..."
"She'd love it—she's as much a part of this family as Harry is!"
Molly reached up and gripped his arm. "Of course, you're right. Oh, I'm happy for you, dear. You've matured so much since the two of you became a couple. You're not the headstrong boy you once were."
He reluctantly nodded in agreement. Deep down, he knew it was completely true—he wanted to be a better man because of Hermione.
The tender moment was disrupted by a loud rumbling originating from Ron's stomach, prompting his mum to let out a quiet chuckle and stand up.
"Come along dear, you must be famished. I'll get to work on Hermione's jumper tomorrow. I'm so excited to see the look on her face when she opens it."
"Great, I can help mum figure out the perfect gift for Hermione, but I still have nothing." Ron mumbled to himself as he followed her to the kitchen.
He limped to his usual seat at the table and dropped into the chair, his bruised shin still throbbing. The conversation with his mother had reminded him of how much he missed Hermione, and he resolved to send her an owl in the morning; he was in dire need of food and sleep at the present moment.
He rested his head on the worn wood of the tabletop until a heaping plate and a cup were placed in front of him. The aroma of shepherd's pie and the fragrant tea were enough to clear his head as he ravenously tucked in. He'd gained a greater appreciation of how tasty his mother's cooking was, after going without it for so many months.
Molly sat down across from Ron with her own cup of tea. After watching him inhale the meal in front of him for a few moments, she gave him a scolding look. "Slow down or you'll choke."
He let out a snort. "You sound like Hermione."
"Speaking of which, how is she doing at school? I imagine she must be quite busy."
Ron's muffled response could not be made out by his mother.
"Manners, Ronald."
He swallowed with a loud gulp.
"Sorry. Between Head Girl duties and N.E.W.T. studies, I doubt she's even sleeping properly. At least she can take a break during Christmas."
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "She pushes herself too hard, that one. Have you decided what to get her for Christmas?"
"No, not yet, but I'll think of something."
The determination on his face caused his mother to look at him endearingly.
"You've all grown up so quickly. I'm sure she'll love whatever it is you give her."
A pained look of frustration replaced the determination; the change was obvious enough for his mother to notice.
"Whatever is the matter, Ron?"
"Mum, it has to be perfect, after all the lousy Christmases in the past."
"Ah yes, I do recall why she didn't join us during your sixth-year..."
"No," he interrupted, "it's not that. Well, it's not just that. There was something much worse, something I will never fully forgive myself for. It's a wonder Hermione and Harry forgave me."
Molly looked concerned, seeing the raw anguish on her son's face.
"I never told you because I was so ashamed. You see, I... I left them. I abandoned Hermione and Harry for a while during our time away."
He quickly brushed away a rebel tear, not wanting his mother to see.
"We were getting nowhere, and I was so frustrated. That bloody locket wasn't helping either, showing me all of these mental images. I got into a huge fight with Harry and stormed out."
She clutched at her chest. "Oh, my! Wherever did you go?"
"I was furious and not thinking clearly, so I Disapperated. I ran into a gang of Snatchers and fought 'em off, but couldn't get back to Hermione and Harry. You should have heard her before I left, screaming for me."
Mrs. Weasley reached across the table and gently squeezed her baby boy's hand. It was clear to her that this incident was haunting him. He took a deep breath and continued on.
"I ended up at Bill's place; I couldn't face the rest of you. They took me in until I was able to get back to my friends. It didn't happen until Christmas morning, weeks after I left. I don't think I've ever seen Hermione that angry, when I returned to them a couple of days after leaving Shell Cottage."
"Now, Ron, we've all done things we aren't proud of, especially in times of great stress. I hope you can forgive yourself and see all of the good you've done. In fact, Hermione told me how you saved her life at Malfoy Manor."
Ron was surprised, as it wasn't exactly something that Hermione talked about often. He remembered how difficult it had been for her to tell her own parents about what she'd endured.
"You might have left, but you returned and saved her. Don't ever forget that. I doubt she holds the rest of it against you."
"I know she doesn't, but I want to do something to make it up to her. I love her."
Molly was taken aback by her son's honest revelation. "Are...are you sure? You've only been together a few months and—"
Ron held up his hand and was shocked that his mum actually stopped talking. "I told her before she left for Hogwarts, and she feels the same. Yeah, the dating part is new, but I've spent almost every minute of my last seven years with her... and we've been through a lot."
His mum was silent for a moment as she studied her son, who was now staring past her with a telling smile on his face.
"So, Hermione told you she loves you, did she?"
"She did," he answered slowly, slightly confused by his mother's reaction.
Molly banished the dishes and patted Ron reassuringly on the arm. "Can I tell you something about witches? There is a certain magic when a witch declares her love for a wizard. We have to really feel it. I don't think you have anything to worry about when it comes to the gift."
He remembered how inseparable he and Hermione had become in the weeks and months following the end of the war. They had clung to each other during the dark period of mourning that followed and later ventured halfway around the world to recover her parents. As difficult as those traumatic events were, they had faced them together and supported one another through them.
"But, I still don't know what to actually do for Christmas."
"Well, have you thought about what she finds meaningful? Maybe something you've done or said which really impressed her? You could start there."
"Hmm, I hadn't thought of that."
He took his mother's suggestions to heart but was still grasping at something that was seemingly just out of his reach. He got up for his chair and gave his mum a peck on the cheek.
"Thanks for... everything. I'm going to head to bed. Night, mum."
"Good night, dear."
He managed to stumble up several flights of stairs to his room, where he hastily changed into his plaid pyjamas. Just as he settled into bed, he was interrupted by a furious tapping sound.
"Ruddy bird!"
He got up and opened the window, but had to duck as a rumpled ball of feathers was propelled into his room by a blast of cool winter air. He brightened the lamp on his desk and beamed when he saw Hermione's distinct script on the letter Pig carried. He gently pried the letter from the owl's grasp and tore it open.
Dear Ron,
I'm counting the days until Christmas break when I can see you again. I miss you so much, and things aren't the same here without you and Harry. I hate to sound like one of those ridiculous romance novels my mum reads, but I need to feel our arms around me and I dream of your kisses.
Ron could picture her blushing as she wrote that, and the thought made him smile.
How is everything at the shop? I imagine it must be getting quite busy. I hope you're working hard and supporting George as well as you can. I'm still so very proud of you for being there for him.
Things here at Hogwarts are as can be expected. Without you here to nag me to go to bed, I've been working late into the night almost every day. Between Head Girl duties, revising for N.E.W.T.s (which are only six months away) and spending time helping the first and second years cope with their losses, I feel like I'm in danger of falling behind. Ginny and Neville have been great with their Prefect and Head Boy duties, but there is just too much going on. I really need this Christmas break.
It distresses me to see how many students here don't have family to celebrate with; so many have been broken up because of the war. I can't ever remember seeing so many students planning to stay here for Christmas. I do feel quite guilty that I have so many loved ones waiting for me at home, while some of these children have no one. It's so sad after everything we fought for.
You're the reason why I can stay positive for everyone else. Every time I feel down, I see something or think about something that reminds me of you, and it makes me so happy.
Please give my best to your family, and let them know I will see them soon. Ginny sends her best as well.
I love you,
Hermione
He was left feeling a bit deflated after reading her letter, remembering how much fun it had been for him to wake up on Christmas morning with a pile of presents from his family at the end of his bed, and getting to share that with his best friend, Harry. It was one of the few times at Hogwarts they weren't worrying about anything else but having fun.
As he reread her letter, something in his mum's earlier words seized him.
Inspired, he grabbed a nearby piece of parchment and scratched out a quick note. He thought a moment before signing it, and then sent it off with Pig.
With a large smile on his face, he went to sleep, a plan of action on the edge of his subconscious.
He awoke late the next morning, still tired, but thankful that he didn't have to go into the shop until the afternoon. Glancing at his side table, he spotted Hermione's letter and his mind was flooded with the plans he'd formulated the previous night.
He knew if his idea was to work, he'd need a lot of help. He checked his clock and sprinted downstairs just as the orange flame in the fireplace morphed into the face of his former professor.
"Good morning, Headmistress McGonagall."
"Ah, hello Ronald. Keeping well, I hope. I understand you've been assisting your brother with the shop?"
"That's correct."
"I'm quite glad George decided to open up again, despite how many of his products I have to confiscate on a daily basis!" She chuckled to herself quietly. "Now, is your father home? I just received a note that he had something urgent to discuss this morning."
"You see, Headmistress, the letter was actually from me."
"But, Ronald, why was it signed 'A Weasley'?"
"I'm a Weasley, aren't I?"
He could easily make out the frown on her face at that bit of trickery. "You have been spending far too much time with your brother."
He grinned. "Sorry, I just wasn't sure if you would have time for me. I figured you'd be busy, and I thought if it was coming from dad, you'd respond."
She sighed and shook her head. "Since you've already got me here, what can I help you with?"
"I've been speaking to Hermione, and she's been telling me about the students staying at Hogwarts this year, because they don't have families to go home to."
"Miss Granger is quite right, it is very troubling indeed. I've been trying to get the board to contribute something to help, but most of the extra funds have been spent on rebuilding the school and all of the memorials in the summer."
"That's exactly why I wanted to speak to you. I have an idea, and I need your help..."
Ron entered the shop that afternoon with a big smile on his face, having had success in his quest to speak to McGonagall. Now he had a much more difficult task.
"What are you so happy about?"
"Good afternoon, George! How is my favourite brother doing?"
George eyed Ron suspiciously. "Fine..."
"Great!"
"What's with you?"
"Oh, nothing much. Had a chat with mum last night and got a letter from Hermione. I finally figured out what to get her for Christmas."
"'Bout time. Let me guess, you picked up a copy of 'A History of House Elves, Vol. 3'?"
"I already told you I wasn't going to get a book. I thought of something much better."
"What is it?"
"I'm glad you asked, because I might need some assistance..."
That night, Ron once again found himself on that same snowy path to the Burrow. He was still exhausted from his work at the shop, but there was an additional jump in his step. He was energized, having spent some time during the day getting Hermione's present ready.
He was happy to find his mother sitting at the kitchen table, working away on what looked to be Hermione's jumper. A steaming plate of roast beef and a tray of Yorkshire puddings were awaiting him.
As he ate dinner, he began telling her about his day, his idea, and his plans for Hermione's present.
"That is wonderful! I think she'll love it. I never would have expected that from you, Ron."
"Well, it was your advice yesterday that got me thinking."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"As a matter of fact..."
Ron was thankful the next week flew by, or he'd have gone mental waiting for Hermione to arrive. Christmas was almost upon them, and much to his dismay, each day at the shop seemed busier than the last.
He'd been writing Hermione almost daily, making sure to never let slip his plans for her gift. He'd also been using his lunch breaks to follow up on his plans and organize things with his various helpers. Even food had become an afterthought in his desire to succeed with his plans, as he only took a few minutes during breaks to scarf down his meals in order to get back to whatever tasks were at hand.
He was strangely anxious as he waited at King's Cross on the morning of Hermione's arrival. He rapidly tapped his foot as he leaned against a stone pillar, watching eagle-eyed for the first sign of the Hogwarts Express.
To avoid the crowds, he and Harry had arrived extremely early. The poor bloke was now waiting for Ginny at a prearranged spot far from the platform, crouched under his invisibility cloak to avoid attention. He'd felt much calmer talking to Harry, but now that he was by himself, he couldn't stop moving with nervous energy. He was extremely excited to see his Hermione, even though their time together would be short.
She'd promised her parents that she would spend the first couple of days at home, before the three of them attended Christmas Eve dinner at the Weasleys. Hermione would then stay on at the Burrow until after New Year's, and then head back home. Between that and Ron's hectic schedule, this would be their only moment of privacy until after Christmas.
Ron rubbed his hands delightedly as the gleaming red engine pulled into the station, magically unaffected by the light snow falling on the December morning. He watched as the students piled out of the train cars, the volume on the platform suddenly skyrocketing as families reunited and friends bade each other farewell.
He craned his neck until he saw a mass of brunette hair moving slowly through the crowd. He fought the urge to run into the sprawl of people and scoop her up into his arms, but he didn't want to upset her while she was still performing her Head Girl duties.
That was why he almost flew out of his shoes when, upon spotting him, she shouted his name and sprinted towards him, jumping into his arms without hesitation. Between her tears of joy and relief, she rained kisses all over his face, not caring for her lack of decorum in front of the others.
He couldn't help but laugh loudly and hold her close, the knot in his stomach, present since he saw her off back in September, finally unravelling. He breathed in deeply, savouring the feel of her surrounding him, and felt restored. He knew that all of his hard work over the past weeks was worth it if it put a smile on his lovely witch's face.
Ron walked down the final few crooked steps and entered the kitchen of the Burrow, where his family was finishing the last of the preparations for the Christmas Eve feast. Molly had made it a large affair, even though it was just the Weasley family and the Grangers.
"You look very handsome, dear." Molly remarked as she bustled past Ron, taking a second to straighten his tie.
"More like a prat," George voiced loudly, before getting cuffed in the back of his head by his mother.
Ron laughed as his brother complained loudly. He smoothed out his jumper nervously and resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, not wanting to ruin the time he'd spent trying to make it neat. Hermione and her parents would be arriving soon, and he felt like a Quidditch game was being played in his stomach.
"Percy, can you please help me with the table?"
"Right away, mum." Percy put down his teacup and stood up. "I think you look very smart, Ron."
George flashed an exaggeratedly pompous face at Ginny, making her giggle. Some things would never change, and mocking Percy was one of them.
"Is everything ready?"
Ron nodded at his sister with a look of relief on his face. "Everything's set. I can't wait to tell her."
"I have to admit, Ron, I'm pretty impressed you pulled it off!"
"You don't have to sound so bloody surprised!"
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs.
"Where've you been, Harry?"
Harry grinned at his girlfriend. "Hurrying to get ready. I had to wait ages for Ron to finish."
"What?" Ron asked defensively. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice for one's girlfriend."
"And her parents!" Harry piped up.
The other three laughed, causing Ron's cheeks to blush a shade of crimson. George couldn't resist teasing his little brother further.
"Just try to restrain yourself from whisking Hermione away to a dark corner somewhere. I don't think that would impress her parents."
"George, stop teasing your brother." Molly rebuked as she went flying through the kitchen. "And don't let me catch you and Angelina in a dark corner somewhere, either."
The four of them stared at her in shock as she exited the kitchen.
"We're just friends, mum." George half-heartedly called out after her.
Ginny raised an eyebrow at Ron, unaware of this new development. Ron nodded to her in confirmation, causing George to scowl.
"Oh, piss off, the lot of you."
A few minutes later, Arthur Weasley's voice rang out from the front parlour.
"Ron, Hermione and her parents are here."
Before anyone could say a word, Ron bolted out of the kitchen to greet them. He opened the door and there Hermione stood, looking adorable all bundled up in a large coat and balancing a precarious pile of presents.
He quickly grabbed them out of her hands and turned to find his father, standing at the ready to take them to the living room.
With those out of the way, Ron pulled his girlfriend into a big hug.
"Hi, love," he whispered quietly into her ear. "Bloody hell, I've missed you."
"Me, too," she replied before kissing him on the cheek, her lips cool from the winter weather.
Ron spied her parents approaching and stood up straight, self-consciously straightening his tie. He firmly shook Mr. Granger's hand and awkwardly kissed Mrs. Granger on the cheek as he welcomed them to the Burrow.
At that moment, his mother arrived and ushered in the Grangers, giving Ron and Hermione a few moments together. Ron couldn't resist sneaking a quick kiss.
"You look very good, Ron," Hermione commented as she removed her coat.
"Oh, thanks, love."
His eyes suddenly widened as her took her in.
She was wearing a grey, loose, mid-calf length pleated skirt and a deep purple jumper, which showed the barest hint of cleavage. She had a modest silver chain around her neck, and her hair fell in soft ringlets around her shoulders.
Ron swallowed hard, his mouth bone dry as he stared. "Wow... you look beautiful."
She blushed, still unused to his outright compliments, which were frequent now that he could express them freely.
"Thank you, Ron."
"So, how was everything at home?"
"Fine, but I'm glad to be back here... with you."
"I've really missed you, Hermione."
She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. "I've missed seeing you every day. When you hugged me at King's Cross, it felt like everything was right again."
"Ron," his mother called out, "can you please get drinks for Hermione and her parents?"
A look of annoyance passed across his face, causing her to reach out and grab his hand. "We'll have time to talk later."
"And snog?"
She laughed. "Yes, Ron."
As he was walking away to fetch the glasses, he turned and waggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to giggle again.
The dinner turned out to be a great deal of fun. With the shadow of war removed from the festivities, it was a chance for everyone to relax and enjoy the holiday. Laughter was loud and frequent at the table, which featured the sharing of a few embarrassing stories about Ron which had the Grangers chuckling heartily.
After the meal, the party moved to the living room to open presents. Ron had a big smile on his face, which had Hermione looking at him strangely. She knew how much he loved to open gifts, but she suspected something else was going on.
They settled down comfortably, warmed by the firelight, the Christmas punch and good company. The pile of discarded wrapping quickly grew.
Molly was examining her gift from Hermione's parents with great interest. "What a beautiful vase, thank you so much."
She uttered a charm and the glass glowed brightly for a second.
The Grangers exchanged a look of astonishment before Hermione's mother spoke up. "What did you do to it?"
"Ah, I just made it unbreakable. You can never be too careful in this house. I can't tell you how many fragile things... Fred and George broke over the years. I got tired of doing Reparo spells all the time."
The room had quieted down at the mention of Fred's name, but Mrs. Weasley had a smile on her face, remembering the memory of her son. She nodded at Ron, acknowledging their moment from the previous week.
"To Fred." Ron called out, holding up his glass. Little did he know that, with those two words, he would start a yearly Christmas tradition in the Weasley household.
"To Fred." The rest of the room echoed, toasting the memory of their fallen family member.
Hermione laid her head on Ron's shoulder and rubbed circles on his back in appreciation of the gesture.
Clearing her throat, Molly addressed her daughter-in-law, who was sitting near the tree with her eldest.
"Fleur, can you hand that blue package to Hermione?"
Hermione gave Molly a smile and accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped the parcel and immediately teared up after seeing the contents. She held up the soft blue jumper, featuring a large 'H'.
"When's the wedding?" George muttered, causing several in the room to crack up.
"I hope you like it, dear," Molly said as she stood up to accept a big hug from Hermione.
"This really means so much to me," Hermione replied, wiping away a tear.
"We do consider you a part of this family, especially now that you and Ron are together. I've wanted to give you one for years, but I didn't want to offend."
"Nonsense," Mrs. Granger said. "I can't thank you enough for taking care of our daughter throughout the years, especially since we couldn't always be there for her, or frankly, even understand what was happening in her world. You and your family have always welcomed her, and for that, we're grateful."
She got up, and much to Molly's wonder, gave her a big hug as well. There were several pairs of shining eyes in the room as the two mothers shared a special moment.
They settled back down in their seats and continued working their way through the pile of gifts. Angelina did receive a pair of Quidditch gloves, which caused much teasing amongst the Weasleys at George's expense, while Hermione presented Ron with an authentic Chudley Cannons uniform and a pair of tickets to attend a match.
When there were no more packages remaining under the tree, the attention of the room turned in Ron's direction.
"Hermione, as you can see, there's no gift under the tree from me to you."
She looked confused, but didn't interrupt.
"I know that several of your past Christmases haven't been very good, so this year, I wanted to do something extra special. Not only to make up for some mistakes I've made, but also to show you how much... how much I love you."
Hermione clamped her hands over her mouth, delighted by his very public declaration. There was a chorus of sighs and murmurs of approval as Ron continued on.
"I've been working a lot of extra hours at the shop to save up for something, but I didn't know what, until I spoke to Mum and got your letter. I realized then that, much like the house elves, you'd probably treasure a gesture of kindness much more than anything I could buy you."
She nodded, tears now streaming down her face. She was so proud of him, and her heart was bursting with love.
"So, I spent all that extra money I saved up... on wool."
Hermione's face changed to one of puzzlement.
"I remember what you told me about the students staying at Hogwarts this year, so I bought a lot of wool and asked Mum to make jumpers for all of them. She's been working on them day and night. Headmistress McGonagall provided lists and helped get things arranged."
"I can't believe this!"
"Then..."
"There's more?" Hermione exclaimed incredulously.
Ron nodded proudly. "I spoke to the shop owners in Diagon Alley and pleaded with them to donate gifts for the students. Many of them did, but George gave the most."
"That's so wonderful!" Hermione cried, turning towards George with her hands clasped tightly together.
"Oh, go on then," George said, blushing in modesty as he accepted a hug from Hermione.
She faced Ron again, giving him a look he'd seen before, shortly before their first kiss. It was exactly what he'd hoped for.
"Love, tomorrow morning, each and every student staying at Hogwarts for the holidays will wake up with a pile of gifts at the foot of their beds, courtesy of Mum's hard work, McGonagall's assistance, and the generosity of George and the other shop owners. Merry Christmas!"
"Uh, Ron, aren't you forgetting someone who helped make that happen?" Ginny asked.
He looked confused. "No, I don't think—"
"You!"
Hermione couldn't contain her excitement as she jumped into his arms, the rest of the room breaking out in laughter.
"This is the sweetest, most wonderful gift you could have given me, Ron," she whispered in his ear. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"It was such a brilliant, thoughtful idea. All of those students, they're going to be thrilled!"
"As long as you're thrilled, too."
"I am, Ron. I really am. Thank you, so much."
She kissed him then, not caring that they were surrounded by their families. Ron could almost feel all of those bad Christmas memories being erased by the power of their embrace. He finally felt like he could let go of the guilt he'd been carrying.
"Alright you two, break it up. You heard what mum said earlier."
"What, about you not snogging Angelina in a dark corner somewhere?"
"Well... I... we're just..." George sputtered.
The rest of the family chuckled upon seeing the death glare Angelina was now aiming squarely at George.
"You'd better not finish that sentence, George Weasley."