A/N: Again, I own absolutely nothing!! Hope you enjoy!
Hermione Granger sighed, picking a stray piece of lint off her dress as she sat huddled in a corner of the Great Hall watching everyone else twirl their way around the floor. This Christmas Eve ball had sounded wonderful when Dumbledore had first made the announcement, but now, Hermione was beginning to think that it was a very bad idea.
In fact, it was turning out much like the Yule Bale had, except for the fact that no one asked Hermione to go with them, Ron was happily dancing with Lavender, and Harry was whirling Ginny around the room as though he had never had any problem dancing before in his life. Now that she thought about it, it was rather different from the Yule Ball.
She saw Ginny pause in her twirl to smile shyly at Harry, who grinned back broadly. Hermione turned away, unable to watch the romance brewing between those two. Seeing Lavender and Ron at the other end of the room wasn't any better, so Hermione sighed and turned her back to the party, opting to gaze out the window instead. It was during times like this that she didn't like Christmas. Everyone was so romantic and caught up in their own little worlds at Christmas, and Hermione, without someone "special" to shower with love and affection, found herself simply left out.
She sat for a long while, watching the darkness around the castle glisten with the freshness of white snow. Her gaze strayed up to the high ceiling and she saw a sprig of mistletoe suspended in the air. She rolled her eyes, knowing that there were sprigs such as those all around Hogwarts, and she immediately thought of the day before when she had caught Harry and Ginny in one of the coat closets under a similar sprig of mistletoe.
Harry had looked terrified and embarrassed, and Ginny looked slightly frustrated that her time with Harry was being interrupted, but all Hermione had said was, "You do realize that mistletoe is a toxic, parasitic plant, don't you?"
Her bookish ways had been lost on them, and Ginny, her cheeks now bright red, had sighed heavily and said, "Oh, Hermione, just go with it."
Now, as she remembered that little encounter, Hermione felt her brows draw together in a frown. The mistletoe glittered brightly in the candlelight of the ballroom, and it was difficult for Hermione not to obliviate it. Her fingers were itching to reach for her wand, and she had to conveniently forget that she was now well-versed in wandless magic, or else the mistletoe would be no longer.
Before she could do anything, or plan the demise of the mistletoe anymore, a fluttering sound pulled her attention away from the rafters. Looking to the right, she saw the small canary that fluttered down to land on her lap. With a couple of cheery hops, it stuck its foot out and Hermione noticed that there was a small piece of parchment attached to the canary's leg.
"Well hello there," Hermione said softly, stroking the bird once before she accepted the small piece of parchment. "Thank you," she said to the canary as it spread its wings and took off.
She carefully unrolled the parchment and noticed that the words were magically placed on the parchment so that she would be unable to identify the writer by the writing style. She slowly read the words, and her mouth dropped open slightly. It read:
My Dearest Hermione,
This letter has taken me a long time to write, and I hope that you won't be angry over the secrecy of said letter. Forgive me for not asking you to the dance. Seeing you sitting on the ledge, all by yourself, makes me feel incredibly guilty….
Hermione's head snapped up, scanning the many students to see which one it might be. She saw Fred Weasley sitting at the other end of the hall, and her heart sped up, but then slowed when she realized that he wasn't looking at her. He was grinning at George, who had just waltzed back into the room, looking incredibly pleased with himself. She turned her head and saw that no one but Draco Malfoy was looking at her, and when he noticed her returned gaze, he gave her such a nasty scowl that she highly doubted that he was the sender. She looked back down at the letter.
…but in all honesty, I couldn't get up enough courage to ask you. I was afraid that you would refuse me, and that would break my heart. You see, Hermione, I care about you a great deal, and (I hope I don't frighten you) I think I might be in love with you….
Hermione's eyes grew even bigger as she stared at the letter. She, the girl who had never had a guy so much as flirt with her, now had someone writing anonymous love letters to her. It was all too much! She looked down once more and read the rest.
…I've never told you this, but Hermione, you're the inspiration for quite a bit of what I do. I would be honored if you would meet me in front of the Room of Requirement (only because it is rather middle ground) tonight before you go to bed. I'd very much like to see you. Please, though, don't come if this letter has made you nervous. I shall take that as my sign to move on, and will trouble you no longer.
Forever Yours,
Your Admirer
Hermione could only blink as she stared once again at the letter. She reached over and pinched her arm, wincing as she actually felt pain, and then blushed when she realized that whoever her admirer was, he was probably watching her right now and laughing as she tried to figure out whether or not she was truly awake.
Deciding that she was, Hermione began to weigh the options. She could brush the whole thing off as a mean prank someone had played on her and simply not go. She could borrow Harry's cloak and wait to see who it was before she showed herself. Or, she could just throw aside her inhibitions for a night and go, wand at the ready of course, and see who this mysterious person was. Yes, perhaps that's what she'd do.
She sat there on her window ledge for the rest of the night, sneaking peeks around the room, hoping that she might make eye contact with someone looking at her, but she never did. Part of her was glad, for she wouldn't be asked to dance, but another part of her felt left out and like an outsider, a third wheel of sorts. Not that she cared at all…
"Hermione?" someone called from a ways away. Hermione looked up and saw Harry and Ginny standing close enough to call to her. "We're gonna head back to the dorm. You coming?"
"Speaking of the third wheel." She thought. Hermione almost backed out on her secret admirer right then and there. She knew that on any other night, she would have meekly followed Harry and Ginny back to the common room and listened to them make small talk, but tonight, she felt something stir within her, and she knew what it was. It was a longing to be loved.
"No," she said, twisting her fingers nervously in her light lavender gown. "I'll be up pretty soon."
Harry looked startled, but he only shrugged and steered Ginny out of the Great Hall amidst all the other people that were filing out. Hermione lingered for a few moments, tagging along with the last few streams of people, not wanting to be seen lurking in the hallways. As she walked to the Room of Requirement, she realized that she didn't know how long to wait.
As she rounded a corner, she almost ran into a couple pressed against the wall, kissing under another branch of mistletoe. She scowled at the boy and girl as they stared at her, not embarrassed at all, simply annoyed that she had interrupted them. Hermione sighed as she whirled away. She seemed to be annoying a lot of people in that position lately.
She barely heard the boy mutter, "Bossy Hermione Granger, just go with it."
Furious, she stormed down the hall before she could hex him into oblivion and rounded the bend in the hallway, muttering darkly, "I'm surrounded by idiots."
"Granger, you wound us," someone said, and since Hermione thought that she was the only one in the hallway, she jumped.
"You're certainly surrounded," chimed another voice, this one identical but coming from behind her.
"But certainly not by idiots," the first voice said, and Hermione could now see that it was George Weasley, garbed in handsome, very un-Great-Aunt-Tessie-like dress robes, leaning casually against a suit of armor. Hermione turned quickly and found Fred, dressed the exact same way, leaning against a nearby wall, and looking so dashing that she could barely think straight.
"Hi, guys," she said softly, feeling defeated. "So I guess the joke's on me?"
George frowned, as did Fred, and they both said at the same time, "We have no idea what you're talking about, Granger."
Hermione held up the note. "This was from you two, wasn't it?" She tried to smile, figuring that the twins had meant to give her a bit of kind-hearted teasing to help ease her mood, but the action came out forced and a little wobbly. "It was very good."
Fred frowned, though there was something in his eye that Hermione couldn't quite explain. "What do you mean?"
"You were playing a prank on me," Hermione said, taking a step back, intent on getting away from them as tactfully as possible. Seeing Fred in front of her had just made all of her hopes surface and demand to be noticed, and now they were being ripped away from her. She needed to get out of the hallway before she started crying in front of the Weasley Twins and gave them substantial blackmail to use against her.
George, seeing the paper, motioned to Fred with a nod of his head. "Granger," he said softly as Fred joined him, "I have a feeling that you've got it all wrong."
"Oh really?" Hermione asked, and to her dismay, her voice actually cracked. Fred's eyes widened in dismay and George cleared his throat.
"I'm going to head off," George said, pointing absently towards the end of the hallway with his thumb. "Angelina wants to meet up somewhere." He looked pointedly at Fred and then told Hermione softly, "Just so you know, Granger, it wasn't a prank." And with that, he was gone, running down the hall with his long, loping stride, and disappearing around the corner in seconds.
Fred watched him go for a moment and then turned towards Hermione. "Walk with me?" he asked her, holding out his hand for her to take.
Hermione examined the hand, looking for any signs of a prank. "Why?" she asked warily.
Fred rolled his eyes. "It's a hand, Hermione," he told her, startling her by using her first name, "an appendage, if you will. I promise that none of this is a joke, or some mean prank that we wanted to pull on you." He looked earnestly at her. "Please, Hermione."
Perhaps it was the earnest tone in his voice. Maybe it was the fact that she was in love with him. Either way, Hermione believed him and took his hand. "But just so you know," she warned him as a huge grin spread across his face, "if you hurt me, I'll hex you so badly you'll wish you'd never been born." So it wasn't the most original threat, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment, standing so close to Fred.
Fred stopped suddenly, turning to her and gazing at her very solemnly. "I'd never hurt you," he told her carefully, and then added, "at least not intentionally." They stood there for a long time, simply gazing at each other, and then Fred tugged on her hand. "Come on," he told her.
He led her outside, never letting go of her hand as he set a leisurely pace down to the Black Lake. Hermione tried not to show the chill she felt, but being in an evening dress and traipsing through the snow was beginning to make her shiver. Fred, however, noticed, and slung his jacket around her shoulders, murmuring a warming charm to surround both of them.
"Thanks," she said quietly, and he smiled again in response.
When they reached the shore of the Black Lake, Hermione found a blanket laid out, charmed free of snow. She stared at it for a moment before Fred motioned for her to sit down, telling her with a smile, "It's not what you think."
Trusting him, Hermione sat down, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the air around the blanket was warm as well. She smiled up at Fred, who was watching for her reaction, letting him know that she approved. He sat down next to her, but far enough away that Hermione still felt comfortable, and cleared his throat.
"I hope you're not mad at us," he started carefully.
"Why, what've you done now?" she teased him, spreading her skirt around her legs so that the folds covered more of her bare legs, though she was no longer cold.
Fred grinned back at her, and Hermione saw part of that familiar twinkle in his eye, but he brushed it aside. "Nothing life-threatening," he promised vaguely. Then, his voice seemed a little more drawn, and he glanced at Hermione again. "I'm sorry I didn't invite you to the ball."
Hermione's head shot up. "What?" she whispered, her mind reverting instantly to the letter and her own, crushed wishes.
"I sent you the letter," Fred admitted, looking far more nervous than Hermione had ever seen him. "Like I said in my letter, I was afraid that you would turn me down. I thought you might think I was playing a prank on you, like you ended up doing." He raised a knowing eyebrow and Hermione blushed. He sucked in another breath and plowed on through. "I love you, Hermione. I have for years. I'm-I'm not really sure how to ask this, but do you, I mean, could you possibly feel the same way?"
Hermione's face softened, and her heart beat even faster. Fred loved her! Fred, the boy she had loved for so long, actually returned her feelings! Fred, one of the calm, collected, confident Weasley Twins actually stuttered when professing said feelings for her! Without answering, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, feeling entirely blissful as she felt his arms wrap around her waist after only a moment's hesitation. When she pulled back, smile firmly on her face, Hermione nodded and told him, "It's entirely possible."
She had thought that he would pull her in for a kiss, but he didn't. His smile grew wider and he pulled her close again, nestling her against his chest as he reclined on the blanket, gazing up at the stars. The night's quietness, with snow no longer falling, made everything in the world seem right at that moment. Hermione was no longer alone, she was with the one person she loved, and he was holding her so close that she could hear his heart beating rather quickly. And…there was no mistletoe!
She chuckled, and Fred pulled away slightly so that he could see her face. "What?" he asked, half amused and half worried that she might be laughing at him.
Hermione shook her head and blushed. "It's nothing," she insisted.
"Please tell me?" Fred asked her, sticking out his lower lip a little and pouting.
Hermione almost laughed again at the sight, but refrained and bit her lip instead. "Um," she began nervously, feeling silly and uncomfortable about talking about kissing with Fred.
He seemed to deduce the approximate line of her hesitancy, because he pulled her close again and said, "While you think about it, I want to show you something."
She heard him murmur something, and then fireworks exploded above the lake, painting the sky in a glorious color wheel of vibrant colors. Hermione gasped and leaned back against Fred a little more so that she could see the fireworks a little more clearly. Reds, golds, and Christmas colors paraded between the stars, sometimes exploding in a shower of sparks, and sometimes forming a picture before they were whisked away.
"I told you in my letter," Fred whispered in Hermione's ear, "that you inspire much of what I do. True, George and I love playing pranks, but a lot of valuable time goes into wondering just how much a prank will tick you off."
"Why?" Hermione managed to ask, her eyes riveted on the fireworks above her.
Fred smiled against her hair and leaned forward to kiss her ear very gently, setting off fireworks within her body. "Because I think you're absolutely gorgeous when you're angry at us."
They both laughed, and Hermione had a few snappy remarks that she could have interjected, but she pushed them away, not wanting to ruin the first time Fred had verbally complimented her appearance. She snuggled a little closer to let him know that she found his statement flattering, and then returned her attention on the fireworks Fred had designed for her.
During one firework that formed a yellow canary, Hermione had a thought. "How did you get a canary to bring me a message?"
Fred actually laughed out loud. "I didn't want to use my owl, since you'd figure out who had sent the letter that way, so I kind of tweaked the Canary Creams and-" here he paused, smirking widely at her, waiting for her to figure it out.
Hermione was mentally reviewing the night, and remembered seeing Fred welcoming George back into the hall. "It was George!" she gasped. "You turned your brother into a bird just to give me a message?" There was laughter and incredulity in her voice as she twisted slightly to see his face.
Fred shrugged. "It was George who offered. He's tired of hearing me talk about you, I guess, and told me that he would deliver the message for me." Fred winked at her. "He said he quite liked the way you patted his head." He frowned mockingly and added, "He also told me that he very much liked bouncing on your lap. I punched him for that one, though."
Hermione blushed deeply, but couldn't help laughing. "Only you two," she said, shaking her head and laughing, "would come up with something like that."
"Of course!" Fred said with a snort. "After all, we are two of the most devious wizards of this age, perhaps even the most devious. We tend to use our brains, unlike those-oh what did you call them? idiots?-that you hang out with." He leaned back so that he could see her better and added, "Speaking of which, what were you going to say before I started the fireworks?"
Hermione tried not to blush again, but then realized that he had told her that he loved her, and he wouldn't mind her sharing this one thought with him. She shrugged, trying to play her comment off as not a big deal. "I was just thinking of all the people I've caught under mistletoe these past couple of days, and how everyone tells me to just go with it." She shook her head. "It's ridiculous."
For some reason, Fred's smirk grew wider, and just as she was about to ask why he looked so smug, he nodded towards the sky. The fireworks, which Hermione had thought to be over, were not, and the last firework exploded into a sparkling arrangement of green, creating…no, it couldn't be.
Mistletoe.
Though it seemed slightly more romantic when Fred was the one presenting her with it, obviously hinting that he found her desirable enough to kiss, Hermione's bookworm took over and she began, "You do realize, Fred, that mistletoe is a toxic-"
"-Parasitic plant that was used by muggle women early in history as a sign of fertility because it was the only plant that used to grow during winter?" he finished for her.
Hermione blinked.
"And it only grew because it fed off the trees it was attached to?" Fred added calmly. He grinned at her. "Yeah, I know, but Hermione, just go with it." And then, he leaned forward and covered her lips with his.
"Okay," Hermione barely managed to mumble before her senses were overridden by the smell, taste, and feel of Fred.
Her hands tangled in his hair as he pulled her close to him, and she sighed softly as he pulled away, cracking his eyes open to gauge her reaction. Thinking that she had done something wrong, Hermione opened her eyes as well and asked, "What? I'm going with it." With a laugh, he sealed their lips again, deepening the kiss and sighing with satisfaction.
He had the girl he had always wanted, and he had actually astonished her by knowing just as much about a subject as she had. But, the one fact that made him smile into the kiss was the fact that he had broken down her boundaries enough to get her to kiss him because of said knowledge.
And as for Hermione, she learned to like Christmases very much after that. And it was all thanks to the lesson that her friends had taught her that year:
Good things come to those that just go with it!
A/N: Well, I hope you liked it! I wanted to get this in before Christmas was over, and I JUST managed to do it. Hope everyone had a great Christmas, and I hope you liked this! PLEASE review! It's in the Christmas spirit! Take a moment and tell me what you liked or didn't like!! :D