A Very Weasley Christmas
Ottery St. Catchpole.
Some people never heard of the town located in the heart of Britan, smack dap in between Franklin Lakes and my birth town of Crescent Corners. Some rabid fans, intent on seeing the saviors of the wizarding world, stalk the country side. But I doubt that only a few know of that damned gravity-defying house where I broke my arm after third year at fourteen years of age, all because of the hyperactive sixteen-year-old decided to prank me. My mother would probably tell me that it is a good thing, it preserves our memories.
Viktor Krum, a close friend of mine for the past few years, once told me that, "All you really need in life is someone who cares about you." And as I look back on the past decade of my life, I firmly believe that I had it all. On days like this, when I am twenty-eight, I look back with glee on the time we reconnected. When we embrace, I close my eyes for just a mere moment. At that point, I just want to imagine that we are eight years back, under that Christmas tree, and we were twenty-one and twenty-two again.
The last time I saw that sixteen-year-old little boy was two years ago when there joke shop was beginning and he was already twenty years of age. I was leaving, and he was already a blooming star. He had wished me a goodbye, and if my math was correct, he would be nearing twenty-two years now a day.
How I arrived here, the day before Christmas Eve, seemed unknown to me. Maybe it was Molly Weasley's constant begging to see her surrogate daughter. Or perhaps it was that search for my parents had been achieved and allowed me to go home for a few days (rather, my home in the wizarding world; the Weasley family had always been my second family). Or maybe, just maybe, it was because I missed them. Whichever the case, I think my glory was short-lived. Having no contact, aside from occasional owls, we all might have well been stranger to one another. I guess I can't argue with my own logic; I may feel bitter towards them for fading away from my life, of course, then I have to realize that I started the distance.
It seems quite odd, in fact, to be here once more. Just about to approach my past after a two-year separation – which, in all honesty, is that long if you truly think about it. Throw in magic, jobs, war, relationships, and thousands of miles – you get the picture. We had last met one another on this exact pathway, right across from the house where they had once resided (he and his twin had moved into flats above their shop). There were tears shed; words exchanged; and lessons learned. And I think that, in itself, is what made it harder to grow apart. But moving on is simple once you are granted no time to remember them.
My hazel orbs, gazing at the home in front of me in perfect quality, dulled at the site. A frigid wind blew through the countryside; my brown hair whipped in my face. The lights glistened before me, blinking as early morning turned to dawn. Had it really been two years since I had visited my friends?
I caught sight of the curtains moving ever so slightly, and a shy smile graced my face. It took all my self-control to keep from bolting headfirst into that house. From what Molly had daintily dropped for me, I concluded that their entire family was staying for the holidays. It was the reunion long awaited, she had claimed. And it was one I looked forward to ever since I had caught wind of such a happening (the day before).
Sighing inwardly, I skipped up the rest of the pathway, snow falling quietly around me. They knew I was here – they must have. From the moment he peered out the window, it was clarification of waiting upon my arrival. Before I could reach for the doorknob, it was ruthlessly flung open, a flash of ginger hair clouded my vision before I found my arms full of a nineteen-year-old's body.
"Ginny!" I cried out gleefully; my hazel orbs sparkled. "How are you?"
"Hermione!" she answered joyfully as she gripped my wrist, pulling me into the house I had grown to love – noting the luggage beside the door, I was not the only one rooming here (of course, you knew that already that, as did I – most of the family had moved out by now). "I'm good, really good. Everyone is waiting to see you! Teddy wants to eat the pastries, but Harry wouldn't let him touch it 'till you got here!"
Of course, all that was at the front of children's minds were the sugary delicates of life (Teddy Lupin – two-year-old extraordinaire).
"Ginny, I just got here," I threw my hands up in mock exasperation, causing commotion to stir in the living room just beside the kitchen.
Ginny chuckled to herself before calling out, "Hey! Hermione's here!"
I heard a rumble of movement, and before I could register it, Molly was embracing me like I had just arrived home from war (two years prior, I had been). I gave a small squeeze in reply, awkwardly shifting my weight. As we both pulled away, I let her hand softly pat my hair. She smiled widely as she observed my appearance. "You're hair is so long."
I scrunched my face in cheerful gratitude, uselessly shrugging away from the Weasley matriach's grip. "I wanted a change." I felt a sharp stab of sadness sink around us; I had changed. I hadn't been a part of the wizarding world for two years, and it pulled me out of touch of my friends.
Of course, it my own decision. After the final battle of the Second War, I had sent out to find my parents in Australia. As easy as it may have sounded, it took me a whole year to track them down (I had cloaked their location originally) and then proceeded to recover their lost memories. Because of my leaf of absence, it forced me to leave the Weasleys as well as Ron and Harry (and Harry's cute godson, Teddy, who I had become well acquainted with).
Molly grinned breathlessly, gesturing to the kitchen after our encounter. "Hermione, is that you?" a voice rang out as Harry Potter (a brother to me – even after two years of no visits and him becoming the most famous being in the wizarding world) stood up from his seat in the corner room; I almost suffocated as he pulled me into a bear hug.
Can't say I blamed him. Living with the media after him day in and day out can cause anyone to strengthen themselves.
"Harry?" I answered as I struggled to regain my breathing pattern; by the time he released my shaking form, my shoulders were heaving forward with each ragged gasp of air I inhaled. "Oh Merlin, look at you! What have you been doing?"
"Training for an Auror position with Ron," he quipped, stepping back, as I observed his muscular form.
"Does Ron look anything like you now? Last time I saw him he could have used a little toning…"
A deep, soprano chuckled startled me, pulling me out of my awed state; whirling around, I was caught in another hug by a random body who flew across the room to me. "Are you calling me fat, 'Mione?"
Speak of the devil, here we go again.
When my breathing was regulated, and I had no more gulping for air – the sweet nectar of life – Ron let me go. "If you want it to be," I retorted with a sarcastic edge. "And how many times have I told you not to call me that?"
Running a hand through my hair, I smiled in glee, easily recognizing the fluff of ginger hair and brilliant blue eyes. My best friends in the world, both training to be dark wizard catchers. It felt wonderful to finally be home. I missed them. From what knowledge I had gained from their owls, both were excelling in the program and would join the ranks in a few months.
"Hermione Granger…" a voice suddenly announced from behind me; I turned and came face-to-face with a girl standing next to Ginny. She had long lashes framing emerald eyes and chestnut hair just dusting her shoulders. "I'm Fay Dunbar. I was in your year in Hogwarts. Do you remember me?"
Surprisingly, I did. Fay and her friend had been my Gryffindor roommates back at Hogwarts, but they kept to themselves and their friends in Ravenclaw. We never socialized but were friendly on a regular basis. I knew from Ron's letter that she was his fiancée; the two had gotten together shortly after I left. Speaking of fiancées… I cast a sly glance in Ginny's direction, noting how Harry had his arm looped over her shoulders. The two were easily comfortable together; I knew they'd last forever.
"How could I forget?" I responded, shaking her outstretched hand. "It's nice to see you again, Fay." I turned my attention to Harry and Ron, falling back into our age-old conversations. "So how is everyone?"
I cocked my head to the side, wanting the story of the past two years of their lives. I had utterly missed them all. They had been a part of my life that remained a constant good thing before I went half-way around the world. I let my mind slip to the entire family, especially his face – the way his blue eyes shined like the sun. Fred Weasley, the damned heartthrob.
Somehow, Harry picked up on my unconscious mental pleas as he turned to the living room. "The rest of them are hiding somewhere. Go upstairs if you want to see them."
That was enough for me.
As I ambled absently upstairs, my hazel orbs caught sight of a photograph positioned on the landing. It was of Fred and I, standing under a weeping willow tree located in the backyard. He was twenty, and I was barely nineteen. A soft smile settled upon my face, eyes sparkling as I gazed with memories. For as long as I am able to remember, the Weasleys had been a part of my life. Fred and I had gotten closer towards the later years of Hogwarts, and after the Final Battle, when I saved his life after the wall fell on him, we grew even closer. Over the past two years, though, we had drifted. But to this day, I am thankful to say that it was circumstance, not our choices, that made it this way.
I continued to stare at the picture on the wall. He was always one of those things that I wished I had never left behind.
I think the moment we established the friendship was shortly after he and George decided to prank Umbridge. It was a hot spring morning before they put it the plan into action. They asked for my help in perfecting the prank, and we were sweating bullets. George had asked the house-elves for a mid-morning snack (and though I was highly against it) I was the one with the ice cream sandwich, and he had the double chocolate chip cookie. I wanted to trade since I had a small sweet tooth for chocolate (it was never satisfied since my parents were dentists), but he merely shook his head in disagreement. In the end, he got sand in his pants; I got the cookie and a new best friend.
But all good things can come to an end, unfortunately. Though, I am not sure if you can call my discovering my heart a bad thing.
Maybe it was the time I noticed the way his crystal eyes glistened under the noon day sun. Or perhaps it was the way I gazed at him, almost in a trance, when his silky, red hair fell into his eyes. I loved the way my name rolled of his tongue, and his sense of humor, oh god, his lovely sense of humor. The way he laughed with those sparks in his eyes. The way he loved to give hugs. With his heart on his sleeve, he swept me off my feet and had me floating mid-air, on cloud nine. Sometimes even cloud ten. His smile could brighten anyone's day, and he could brighten mine with a simple look. Even the compliments he gave me made me wonder if he felt to same way.
He loved how adventurous I was, and how I never seemed to have a care in the world. How I was always so friendly, even to those that didn't deserve it. The way I was always to excited about one thing or another. My optimism; that was the one thing he truly loved. No matter how bad a situation could be, I would always find the sunny side. I would always smile and keep my chin up. I would laugh and twirl my hair around my index finger. And I always seemed to have him up on cloud ten with me. And that was my life.
Until I decided to leave.
"I remember when that picture was taken," a voice announced from behind me. I turned, my copper hair flailing about, as I faced the middle-aged man dubbed as Arthur Weasley. "It was your birthday."
"He dunked me into the pond, and you had a camera," I returned. Arthur always had a love for Muggle inventions.
He chuckled to himself as he shook his head in amazement. "You two got really close really quick."
My fingernails suddenly became quite interesting. "Guess that happens when you save someone's life."
"It was wonderful spell work that saved my son," Arthur clarified. "I am always grateful for that, Hermione…. We all really missed you. Where'd your search take you?"
"Australia," I explained with wide grin, teeth flashing.
"Quite a trip."
"… I kept in touch," I responded sheepishly; hiding my blush behind my mahogany-colored hair, letting myself become embarrassed. "I have to give your boys credit where credit's deserved… How they got the owls to fly across the ocean, I'll never know."
"You can ask them; Fred and George are in their room," Arhtur said with a reassuring grin as he squeezed my shoulder before descending down the stairs to join the rest of the family.
My eyes followed the invisible paths Arthur had walked before I glanced over my shoulder at the room where the twins were rooming. I hesitated before knocking and received a rustle of movement on the other side. Before I could react to the unknown, the door was flung open and I was met with unbridled excitement. Soon, I was engulfed in another person's arms.
God hates me today. All right, so I am a nice and caring person. But there are too many hugs going around! Sure, I love you too; nice to see you again – let's move on.
"Oh my God." Sorry to disappoint, but no immortal being is here. Just to be sure, I cast wary glances up and down the hallway. "This is not happening. Hermione, is that you?"
"George," I choked out as George's snake-like grip tightened ever so slightly – I can't blame him.
"Look at yourself," he countered with a sly grin; his eyes flashed in childish play. "Last time I saw you, you were barely five foot."
"Five foot five," I said. "How are you? How's Katie?"
"You missed the wedding."
"How's Fred?" I entered the room with a wide grin on my face, eagerness and anxiety brimming on the surface.
"Fine. He's in the bathroom," George breathed in disbelief as he stared into his luggage; he rushed over and dug through it. "Oh Merlin, I can't find what I bought you for Christmas..."
"Let's go check downstairs. If it's not there, then we go shopping till you die of boredom from all my choices," I said brightly.
As I led him towards the stairs, George commented, "She says while skipping off happily. Unbeknownst to her, her friend will kill her in her sleep and smother the all-knowing girl with her bathrobe..."
I sat down in the path of the carpeted hallway, whistling to the tune of the Jeopardy theme song (a Muggle show my parents' friends from the United States had introduced them too). George was seated across from me, cards in hand. Ginny was seated next to him, and across from her was the door leading to Fred's room which Ron, Fay, and Harry were currently leaning against.
"Fred, come on," Ginny begged in a sorrowful tone. "We need you if we're going to play the traditional Christmas Poker game!" (I had introduced the wizards to the Muggle game years before and it had become an unspoken tradition ever since).
A muffled response was given before the door was flung open. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before seating himself in front of us, and happened to be right beside me. My internal fan girl became shrieking.
I averted my hazel orbs in the direction of the newcomer as my breathing hitched. My gaze darted toward him. He turned his head in my direction, and a flash of awe struck his face. The darkened blue eyes surveyed my body; every inch, every curve, and every spot of color. Most would become slightly aggravated or creeped by this motion, but I welcomed it and just looked back and analyzed his every being. His hair was tamed and light ginger. His eyes were full of mystery and narrowed in complete concentration. His hair was full of lush, loose curls that were plastered against his head by a black hat.
"Took you long enough to come out of that bathroom," I commented wryly.
I let a smile grace my face as Fred grinned in complete awe. "Hermione… is that you? Oh Merlin, you've grown!"
"Look at yourself," I retorted weakly; my heart beat became erratic. "You actually have muscles. You join the Aurors too?"
"You're just jealous," he immediately told me in response; he raised his eyebrows in complete disbelief whilst picking up his cards. "Christmas themed playing cards? Really? Whose idea was that?"
Ginny and I exchanged sudden looks as Fred began to eyeball the six of us. And with a straight face, we both ushered in Ron's direction. Fred popped up on his haunches and smacked Ron over the back of his head.
When in doubt, blame a boy.
The moon was beating down on me through the window as I knelt down beside the sleeping George as he slept soundly on the couch. It was early dawn, long before any in the home were awake. Ginny sat across me as we watched her brother slipped himself into a peaceful slumber, snoring lightly. The teenager laughed soundlessly as I picked up the tube of lipstick from my luggage.
"Are you sure about that?" His voice came towards me, like a bullet straight through my head. I threw the lipstick into the air; my heart leapt in my throat, cutting off my right to even breathe. "Really, Hermione? You of all people know better than to prank a prankster."
"Merlin's beard, why do insist on bloody scaring me half to death?" I demanded to know, whipping my hair out of my eyes. "You Weasleys never change…"
I saw George stiffen. "And you have."
"What do you mean?"
"Since when do you swear like a sailor?" he questioned, leaning back as Ginny nodded in agreement. "It's like you've become the new Fred."
That caught me off guard. "What?"
"I think just after you left," George began as he let his thoughts drift back to then, two years before. "About a month after… Yeah, that sounds just about right. Don't you remember, 'Mione?" Don't call me that. "You sent him that letter and broke it off between you two and it made him… I thought he was going barmy for a while-"
"Whoa! Whoa!" I turned my head towards the Weasley twin, eyes widening in alarm. "First off… I never sent him any messages. And secondly… what do you mean 'broke it off'?"
"Blimey, 'Mione. You kissed him before he left."
How did they know that? My mind pondered through my words, thinking back to the time two years ago. Was it possible that someone had caught us in the secluded corner of my living room, the place where we confessed our love for another? Not to sound cliché or anything… But we did feel something. It was like my heart gave a slight flutter now just thinking about it. How did George know? Suddenly, it hit me. They were twins; they told each other everything.
"He never got over you," George continued on, as if my shock and disbelief was ignorant subjects compared to his almighty explanation.
"What…?"
"… You did fancy Fred, didn't you?" George pried with a raised eyebrow.
How did I respond to this? With a, "No, I'm sorry. I was too busy throwing myself into a plan to retrieve my parents?" There was no real response because I knew I didn't just "fancy" Fred. I once asked myself why we don't avoid love and avoid the pain of getting hurt. And I, oddly enough, couldn't agree with my own statement, because I don't believe in caution. Love is something of value. And I believe that once you've found the person you most believe in, it is merely a matter of time until you are together. Love transcends time, even up to two years. And I knew, deep within my heart, it still existed for Fred.
"Well, yes," I began, but George cut me off once more.
"He went mad when you left, 'Mione." Don't call me that. "He started stuffing his face with Honeydukes chocolate. There's a certain limit to how much chocolate a man can have, and he surpassed it. He was miserable, had all of use worried. We thought we'd have to book him into St. Mungo's for a while. I've never seen him so broken."
"But I didn't write to him!" I protested.
"I think," George concluded, "That's what hurt the most. When you kiss someone, and then they take off for another country and don't say anything about it, it ruins breaks them."
What the hell did I do?
When ten o'clock at night struck, I rolled over in bed and felt a weight fall upon my shoulders. It took me a moment before the guilt washed over me. And with that, I realized that my problem was that I had forgotten Christmas presents. I had yet to get anything for the Weasley family and my friends. So that is how I found myself awake at the stroke of ten, yawning rather loudly whilst throwing my hair into a messy bun.
"Hermione?" Harry questioned when he snapped the kitchen light on and caught me hovering in the open fridge with a piece of toast shoved into my mouth. "…What are you doing?"
"I need to buy Christmas presents," was my offhanded reply as I threw my bag over my shoulder. "I haven't seen the you guys in two years, so I have no idea what for you"
Harry, already quite taken back by my appearance, gazed at me with a frenzied look in his eyes. "You know… fred is doing the exact same thing."
"What am I doing?" a voice perked up from the entrance of the home.
"Going Christmas shopping," I urged on with a shake of my head. "You forget too?"
"It's hard to shop when you're perfecting pranks," Fred hinted with a full-fledged smile, teeth showing.
"I know where we can go," I said, "Since Diagon Alley probably is closed by now; there's a Muggle mall in Surrey we can check out."
"Sure, let's take the broom. I know you hate heights, 'Mione, but…"
And for once, I was rendered speechless. I didn't care that he called me by the name I hated or that I would be risking my life defying gravity. All that existed was me, him, and the glowing Christmas lights lit upon the tree.
"And we were leaving the shop when the girl shrieked…" Fred explained as we entered the mall "And this is a full-blown, ear-shattering voice; George is lucky he only has one ear, because, bloody hell, was she screaming! And she runs up to me and was like… 'Bloody hell! It's it! It's it!' and the whole time I am sitting here thinking: I am a he, thank you very much. So soon she gets on her knees and stretches her hands out and begins to bow before me. And I'm all like... This is the life. Everyone should be treated this way!"
I giggled; and I swear I caught Fred out of the corner of my eye leaning towards me, trying to listen eagerly to the chiming bells of my laughter. At least, he later claimed this to be true. I liked to think that it was because of my strawberry-honey scented body lotion. It was guaranteed to attract anyone (Fred) with its "fruitilish" scent.
"So, Australia huh?" Fred questioned as we entered the twenty-four hour mall down in the heart of Surrey. I clung to his side like a magnet; was it normal to feel so many emotions – so many words that you just were rendered speechless? Or was this every teenage girl's reaction to Fred Weasley, the now confirmed heartthrob?
"Yep," I responded whilst popping the "p" on the end. "I found my parents, thank Merlin."
"You staying for good then?"
I snorted before whirling around to face my friend. "Where else would I go? My parents came back home.'"
"You got a point there," he retorted with a laugh.
I found it utterly unbelievable that I could just fall into routine with the person I had not seen for two years. He was everything I wanted; and everything I feared. Fred Weasley was the picture perfect Christmas present, and believe it or not, if Santa was real, I wanted Fred in a Box for Christmas. If I could seriously plan on ambushing him when he turned the corner-
"Oh my," I breathed out as we passed a display glass. "Look at those."
"Christmas trees? 'Mione, what has gotten into you?" I loved it when he called me that.
Fred gazed with me at the lines of Christmas trees that littered the store interior. Line after line of lights and garland and ornaments. "White spruces are my favorite," I explained with an awed state; my eyes flashed between all trees of various sizes and shapes. "I wish Mum had gotten one this Christmas. I love white spruces so much."
"Well maybe I'll get you for our next Christmas…" he proposed as he ushered me away from the Christmas trees.
The certain word cut through my dazed mind and I whirled to face the twenty-two-year-old. "Our Christmas?"
My eyes twinkled like dancing snow as Fred stared back at me, flabbergasted. Yes, I had that effect on people. "I meant…" he stammered before rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment whilst his cheeks took a red tint to them (typical Weasley. "I meant that we might get together next year to practice the art of exchanging gifts."
I chuckled rather loudly as us two walked on, amidst the last minute Christmas shoppers. It was quite enjoyable to be out in the middle of the night at the 24-hour mall complex. My eyes lit up as I caught sight of the jewelry store. I inclined my head to Nick, signaling my eagerness to enter the store.
"I get the hint," Fred responded as he shook his head warily. "Girls need a jewelry stop. I'm going to go somewhere else. Meet you by the fountain in an hour."
As he walked away, I entered the store. There are two things people need to realize that: I am not interested that much when it comes to jewelry, and secondly, I was buying Fred a necklace. Something he could add to the chain with the charms he wore around his neck. I knew that his dog tag was there (something Harry had given him and George was Christmas as a gag gift so that, if found, people could decipher which Weasley twin they were) as well as the silver "G" that George had given him, but he needed something else. And as my eyes scanned the many cases of silver, gold, diamonds, I came across the perfect present for my friend.
Christmas Eve came faster than I for one expected and it found me laying on the couch, my legs outstretched into Ron's lap. My hazel eyes were connected with the snow falling in precise patterns outside, swirling with the wind. I gingerly sipped some hot chocolate, shaking my head all the while. I glanced behind me, noting that it was nearing six o'clock in the evening.
"Mum," Ron tried once again. "Can we please just start opening up the presents?"
Molly shook her head helplessly as Harry chuckled. "Christmas isn't about the presents, remember Ronniekins?"
"Please, it's all about the present," I retorted to the him.
Harry met my eyes and nudged me. "Isn't it Christmas enough to see me?"
"My inner fan girl is screaming," I commented wryly and shot my friend a sharp smirk.
The fire roared green in the corner as Fred and George stumbled through. My eyes immediately caught sight of the former; his long sleeved dull green shirt clung to his torso in all the right ways. I had to mentally tell myself how to breathe as I watched him. He carried packages in his arms, carefully maneuvering through the people seated on the ground. He placed them under the tree before seating himself on the floor, right in front of the couch.
I lazily let my hand run its way through his hair; I was right. It was soft. "What the heck are you doing, 'Mione?" he asked hesitantly, tilting his head back to look at me.
"I always wanted to feel what your hair felt like," I said. "Now I know."
"PRESENTS!" Teddy's yell of exuberance nearly startled me out of my own skin as I gazed at the two-year-old in question.
The toddler burst into the room with Ginny at his heels. "Sorry, Harry, we had some trouble getting the little bugger out of the bath."
Soon, the room was filled with excitement as the family and friends tore into the wrappings with the same sense of exhilaration the young metamorphisus had shown.
"Aww… Thank you, Hermione," Ginny cooed as she withdrew the gold-chained locket I had bought just the night before, caressing it with care as she gazed in admiration at the words "P.S. I Love You" written on the front. It had two pockets already filled with pictures of her and Harry. "This is really sweet of you."
"It's not much," I told her, raising my eyebrows slightly at the true look of awe on her face.
"It's perfect," she countered with a wide smile.
Score one for 'Mione.
"… No words can describe my emotions right now," Ron suddenly announced to the room as he tipped a rather large box upside down; what came falling out had me falling over onto Fred, both of us erupting into fits of laughter. Teddy looked on in curiosity; the rest struggled to contain their obnoxious chuckles. Ron turned beet red and Fay followed suite as she gently picked one up in disgust. "Er… Thank you, Hermione. I will enjoy the condoms."
"Hope they will be put to good use," I snorted. "But I didn't get you those. That's Fred's present."
Said Weasley had his head thrown back in silent laughter, holding the position. Ron rolled his eyes at his old brother's antics and then noticed something in the pile. "You bought me a watch?"
Fred nodded as he came down from his high, gesturing to the small box still under the tree. "I bought the watch. Hermione charmed it to vibrate every time you have an appointment coming up."
"You can set the time for the appointment, and it covers a full week," I explained. "Do you like it?" Ron nodded in appreciation; Fred and I exchanged synchronized high fives.
Score two for 'Mione.
"You got me an invisibility cloak?" I gasped out as I held the silky material in my hand as if a God-given treasure. "Bloody hell, Harry! How did you know I wanted one?"
I didn't give him a chance to respond before I hugged the guy until his lips turned blue. Then I hugged Ginny who I had known had told him about it. I loved this family. As we all continued to open presents, many laughs, gasps, and groans shared, it eventually evened out to the process of me and Fred leaving to prepare treats for everyone during the self-announced "half-time" of the renowned game known as the Christmas Present Unwrapping.
"There's Honeydukes chocolate," I sang out in my trilling voice as Fred wrenched the refrigerator door open. "Bottom cabinet on the left of the fridge."
Fred smiled, but as he reached for them, he caught sight of my reproaching gaze. "It take it George told you."
"Yeah," I told him, playing it off as no big deal. "I just found out from your brother that you tried to suffocate yourself while I was gone. No big deal, you know. Aside from the fact that you never told me you liked me or never asked about 'us' after I left in your letters."
"You sound mad," Fred observed.
"More like betrayed," I admitted to my friend, watching guilt settle into his features. "Why didn't you tell me, Fred? I could have… I would have… I would have returned it. People don't kiss if they don't care about the other person."
"I don't know. I just didn't think."
"Bugger off, Fred. That's bullshit and you know it. Tell me the real reason why you didn't tell me."
Fred sighed to more himself than anyone. "You were happy, Hermione. And you have a lot on your plate. You were looking for your parents, and I didn't think you wanted to deal with something so stupid…"
"Fred, that kiss wasn't stupid…" I slammed the plate down on the counter. "You are so righteous that it isn't funny anymore. You would rather risk your sanity instead of taking care of it… And right now it is just plain annoying… I mean, you didn't tell me about your feelings because you didn't want me to bother me… So you probably kissed me just so I wouldn't be sad to about not having my parents… And then you close up even when I'm talking to you about this right now…"
"What do you want from me, Hermione?" Fred questioned softly.
"Okay, why did you kiss me that night...?" I asked suddenly, my eyes flashing ever so slightly as I turned to face the twenty-two-year-old. "And why didn't you tell me you fancied me….? And why won't you ever just let me all the way in?"
"Please don't be mad," he pleaded with me.
"I'm not mad," I said as I ran my fingers over wrapper of the chocolate; I hesitantly ripped it open, just to distract myself. "I just… I just want to know why you did this. Why did you hide from me? Why did you kiss me? Was it just pity or did you actually care-"
Suddenly, Fred cautiously placed both hands on each side of my face and gazed at me deeply. What was he doing? Was he going to-? Before I had time to think, Fred's lips met my own, taking away my ability to breathe and hindered my thoughts in their waving process. I complied all too eagerly, I realized, as my lips moved against his with ease, my hands sliding down his arms.
If it were any other day, I would have been so confused, so disorientated. But today… Today I was honest with myself. This here, the one I was engaged in a lip-lock with, was Fred. Not business-man Fred Weasley. But my Fred. I didn't remember ever feeling this way about someone before. Do you believe that it is possible to be given a second chance to fall in love with someone you thought you fell out of love with?
Fred grasped my wrist suddenly, pulling it to his heart. I felt it thumping in tune with my own. The drum beat that was the same rhythm as a hummingbird's wings. Wordlessly, Fred pulled me closer to his body, running a hand through my hair. I felt his hand linger on my face as I lifted my own to his hair. I pulled his face closer to mine as he pulled away for a short moment. Then he dove back in, his lips capturing my own as he pushed me up against the counter.
Ignoring the pain in my lower back, I pulled away and gazed into his eyes which were darkened ever so slightly. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I felt breathless. And for the third time since the Weasley family invited me to stay with them for the Christmas holiday, I was rendered speechless. Hell, I was twenty shades speechless. Why? Because I got all the answers in that one simple kiss. He didn't tell me about his feelings because he didn't want to hurt me. He didn't let me in because he didn't want to get hurt. He kissed me that night because he loved me.
He had always loved me.
I grasped his hand in my own, my heart still beating erratically as I felt his hot breath on the back of neck. I led him to the dining room; the murmurs of our families were heard from there. I gazed at him, my hazel eyes searching for some answers. "I bought you something for Christmas." My eyes danced to the table where the small box lingered on. "Open it, Fred."
And with only the style and grace he could manage, he hesitantly opened the package. I saw his eyes grow wide, and awe become the only distinguishable emotion. He looked on in wonder; admiration was the visible glaze over his eyes. Fred's blue orbs flickered dramatically as he withdrew the charm from the box. It was a miniature shield, the same shape as Hogwarts crest; Fred was written on the back. It was a simple design and only I knew the meaning.
"What is this…?"
"It's supposed to be Hogwarts," I explained with a small smile. "I just thought that you needed a part of Hogwarts with you…Because that's where it all started, with magic, you know? And for me, magic changed everything, and you… Do you like it?"
"How can I not?" Fred retorted as he took off his chain from around his neck, slipping the shield onto it. I heard the click of metal on metal as it met with his dogtag and "G". "I love it, 'Mione. Most of all, I love it because it came from you."
I resisted the urge to cry at the sound of amazement in his voice. "You're so cliché, Fred Weasley."
"I got you something as well," Fred said as he began to dictate the conversation. He withdrew a necklace from his back pocket. And dangling on it was a beautiful, quarter-sized blue diamond silver snowflake on the end. "I know I couldn't buy you a Christmas tree for Christmas… So I thought this was the next best thing."
I laughed to myself as I took it in my hand, admiring it with eagerness. "Oh my god… Where did you get this?"
"I saw you looking at it in the jewelry store," Fred admitted sheepishly.
"You stalked me?!" I gasped out.
"Only because I didn't know what to get you for Christmas," Fred responded with his eyes glowing in blissfulness. "I take it you love it?"
"Thank.. Thank you," I murmured as I secured the clasp around the neck. The snowflake reflected the dim lights of the Christmas tree behind us. "This is… These are real diamonds, Fred…"
"You forget," Fred answered as he placed his hands on my waist. "I'm a successful business man. I make a lot of money."
"I can't believe you did this…" I muttered under my breath. My eyes flew to his own. "Why…?"
But then I realized, I knew. I had always known… He loved me.
Fred waited patiently for me to wipe the stupid grin off my face, and when I did, he asked, "Can I kiss you?"
I managed a short laugh before throwing my arms around his neck, smiling all the while. "Do you really have to ask?"
Through a simple kiss, I gave him all my feelings. All my worries and insecurities; all my envies and sins; all my happiness and love; and all my fears and comfortable scenarios. He not only received, but he gave back all his own. He laced his fingers at the small of my back as I ran a hand through his hair. He gazed back at me with only the love he could muster. I pulled away, and from the glance we exchanged, I could tell there was still a lot we had to go through. But we were trying. "So… now what?"
"We celebrate Christmas," he replied, leaning forward to kiss me again. I tilted my head backwards to meet his lips.
As I snuggled into Fred's embrace and all those feelings flooded back – what I felt when I first kissed him, the shock I received about his depression, the care he gave when I opened my Christmas present, and his scent of cinnamon that was now a part of me. Mum once told me, "Love will touch us once and last a lifetime, and the journey was rigid, but the strongest of hearts will always survive the climb."
It was a picture-perfect scene; and it was bit cliché. And hell if I cared, it was love. If this were a movie, the camera would pan away to show me and Fred huddling in one another's arms, kissing in front of the Christmas tree. And then it would pan towards my neck, and fade away, with the last picture you would see would be the perfect snowflake Fred had given me.
But in all and all, the greatest gift Fred had given me on Christmas, was his love and trust.
And that, in the end. I guess that was enough.