'Honestly, Ronald, they look fine,' pointed out Hermione.
'No, they don't,' Ron grumbled miserably as he stared downwards in to his breakfast, his cheek propped up by one hand whilst the other arm rested heavily on the table that spanned the length of the Great Hall. Hermione waited for a further sign of acknowledgement from him but nothing came.
'Harry, would you please tell him they look fine?' she sighed lightly, turning towards him, and away from Ron who sat to her left.
Harry, who was sitting opposite the both of them, and who had been half-heartedly listening to their conversation, turned his attention from his meal and towards Hermione. She gave him a small pitying look, her eyebrows slightly pulled together in the middle and her head somewhat tilted to the side, that he knew was for Ron.
'Honestly, they're fine,' Harry affirmed, looking at Ron with a nod.
Ron answered with a low, inaudible mutter and began to lazily push a piece of egg around his plate with his fork. By this point, Hermione was exhausted of trying to convince him, and, instead of renewing any attempt, cast her eyes downwards towards her plate and sat glumly with her hands in her lap. Harry glanced between the two of them and rolled his eyes.
'Well, at least we've learnt one thing from this,' Harry offered to Ron, 'and that is that eyebrows are most definitely not resistant to Exploding Snap cards. Especially if you're trying to build a card house out of them.'
There was no response from Ron.
'Look - if you're that bothered - I'm sure Hermione could think of a spell to sort them out,' he said.
Ron cocked his head upwards slightly and glanced at Harry before looking back down as though considering this option.
'And failing that,' grinned Harry, 'I'm sure I could find a razor and rid you of what little eyebrow you have left. All in the spirit of friendship, of course.'
'Shut up, Harry,' laughed Ron, picking his head up off of his hand.
Hermione gave Harry a small, concealed look of thanks.
'Would you?' asked Ron sheepishly after a pause, looking sideways to Hermione as a blush crept up his neck.
'Of course, Ron. I don't know why you haven't asked me sooner, actually,' she replied.
'Me too, I thought she'd be the first person you'd go to,' said Ginny as she approached the table at Harry's side, sitting to his right.
'Who told you?' asked Ron dismally.
In reply, Ginny gestured with her head towards the approaching shape of George Weasley, who had Lee Jordan following close behind.
'Great,' muttered Ron, miserably trying to rearrange parts of his hair in an attempt to cover the parts of his eyebrows that had been singed.
'How's life with no eyebrows treating you, Ronniekins?' smirked George, patting his brother on the back as he clambered over the bench beside him. Ron shrugged his hand off and narrowed his eyes at him. Amused at his brother's sourness, George chuckled as he held his hands up in an act of surrender.
'We come in peace.'
'Yup. Peace and all that,' said Lee Jordan distractedly as he sat down beside George, eyeing a plate of sausages.
'And for food,' admitted George, leaning over to take a piece of Ron's toast.
Ron pulled his plate sideways away from his brother, and narrowed his eyes even further.
'Speak for yourself, I came to laugh at his eyebrows,' corrected Fred, appearing at the opposite side of the table. 'Well, that and for food,' he agreed, leaning across the table to steal a piece of toast from Ron, who was too busy arguing with George for trying the same that he didn't notice straight away. Hermione, however, saw and playfully shook her head disapprovingly, to which Fred replied with an almost unnoticeable wink as he sat down to Harry's left.
Harry raised his eyebrows slightly and looked between the two of them, eventually resting his gaze on Hermione and giving her a small grin. Hermione could only meet his gaze for a few seconds, trying to make her face look oblivious to what Harry was suggesting, before she had to look away, busying herself with pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear and readjusting her plait. At this, Harry's grin widened and he shook his head as he went back to eating the food on his plate. When she chanced a quick glance back across at him, Hermione could see that he was still smiling to himself as he chewed on piece of toasted pumpkin bread.
'Hey!' yelped Ron, now having drawn himself from George long enough to realise he was one short.
It was at this moment that, as it so often did at that time of day, the morning's letters and parcels were being delivered. The upper heights of the hall turned into a kaleidoscope of colours as owls of different species, ages and pigmentations glided through the air, circling the room for their owners and recipients. A small, stocky owl with grey streaks running along its pale feathers was the first to abandon ranks and soar downwards, skirting above the heads of various students before dropping a neatly wrapped package in front of slim-built Slytherin boy. Soon after, more and more owls followed and descended, relinquishing themselves of their heavy burdens.
Amongst the flurry of feathers, Hermione could make out the sight of one small, familiar, ashen owl that Harry had always thought looked more like a molting feather duster than an actual bird, and that, true to style, rather seemed to be falling more than flying. Ron must have caught sight of it too because he let out a sigh. 'Errol,' he muttered in recognition. At this point, Errol appeared to spot them as well, as, with great effort, he struggled in their direction and, upon reaching where they sat, didn't land so much as crash, sending a few plates and goblets skimming down the table.
'Ruddy bird,' sighed George, whilst haphazardly retrieving some of the tableware with the help of Lee and the co-operation of a few Gryffindors sat further down the table.
Errol had tried to stand back up but was now slumped backwards on the table trying to catch his breath, his legs in the air.
'Bloody menace,' agreed Ron.
'No wonder,' said Ginny as she detached a large bundle of letters from its talons. 'Mum knows he can only handle one - It's like when she sent the fruitcake all over again.'
'Don't know why she bothered writing more than one,' Ron said as he watched Ginny untie the brown string that held them together. 'We all know one's "Can't wait to have you all back home for Christmas this year" and "wrap up warm" and the other's telling Harry he's welcome to come to ours. And he knows that anyway so what's the point?'
By this point, Ginny had opened the letter on top of the pile and her eyes were darting across the page as she skim read its contents.
'Yeah, pretty much,' she said after a moment, and passed it across the table for Ron to read.
'Harry, here, you have one too,' she continued, as she passed it sideways to him. Harry tore the envelope, unfolded the letter and read through it.
'Looks like you'll have to put up with me for another few weeks at yours,' he grinned, flashing the letter in Ron's direction. It was evident in his face that he was already thinking of how much more fun he would be having at the Burrow than he would have had should he have stayed at Hogwarts again. For one, you couldn't play Quidditch whenever you wanted at Hogwarts.
'Wait, so who's the last letter for?' asked Fred, indicating the letter that was still sat, unopened, in front of Ginny.
'It's probably mum apologizing for killing Errol,' said Ron.
Lee looked at the owl with concern.
'Shouldn't we help-'
'He normally loses consciousness, so this,' said George, gesturing to the bird who was still laid spread-eagle on the table panting for breath, 'is actually quite the achievement.'
'Oh. I don't know,' said Ginny, considering the letter for a moment. 'It says it's for -' she began, before her eyebrows furrowed slightly and pulled together in the middle.
'What?' asked Harry, beginning to lean over to see what she had seen.
'It's just that - well, it's just that it says it's for you Hermione,' she answered, before passing the letter across the table to her somewhat uncertainly.
Everyone sat at the table looked slightly confused, apart from Lee, who was still watching the feeble form that was Errol.
'What would mum write to you for?' asked Ron, looking at Hermione.
Hermione's eyebrows raised quickly as though in offence and Ron looked instantly uncomfortable.
'It's not- well, I didn't mean it like tha- shes just never written to you has she,' he said sheepishly.
Hermione did have to admit that she herself was confused as to why Molly would be writing to her.
Coming to the decision after staring at the letter for a few moments that an answer wouldn't be reached by sitting around, she peeled open the envelope, pulled out the letter inside and quickly read it.
Oh.
'What does it say?' asked Ginny eagerly.
'It says that, if I want to, I can come and stay at the Burrow for Christmas,' she announced, glancing around at the faces that were all looking at her.
'Hermione, that's brilliant!' squealed Ginny, unable to contain her immediate excitement.
'So, it's alright then?' she asked uncertainly, feeling as though she was invading on something she shouldn't be.
'Alright? Of course it's alright!,' assured Ginny, still smiling widely. 'No body minds at all, do they?' she continued, posing the question to everyone sat at the table.
'She has my vote, anyway,' said George. 'We're always looking for new people to test our products on, when we have the time. Just as a matter of curiosity, would you say that you bruise easily or-'
'I think we'll skip Hermione for that one, George - we already gave her a bruise the size of a hippogriff, remember?' reminded Fred.
'Vividly,' answered Hermione under her breath, which made Fred flash his signature mischievous grin that was slightly cocked to one side.
'Fine. I'll put you down as an easily,' grumbled George dejectedly.
'Does this mean I can com-' started Lee.
'Sorry, mate, but if it was a choice between a screaming fight with a Banshee and putting up with your snoring for two weeks, I think I'd still choose the Banshee,' answered Fred.
'Oh ha ha ha, very funny,' mumbled Lee, resting his cheek on his hand and resorting back to staring at Errol, who was now stumbling around looking for food.
'So will you come?' asked Ginny impatiently.
'Well, I'll have to ask my parents-' Hermione began, but then she realised that the hall had fallen suddenly silent, with the exception of their small gathering at the end of the Gryffindor table. Shifting in her seat, she turned and looked back down the length of the hall, only to see rows of muted students staring towards the front. Turning towards the front of the hall, she realised its cause and watched silently, like the others, as Dumbledore raised from his seat and walked forwards several paces. The headmaster's long fingers furled around the fanned wings of the golden owl that constituted the top of the podium that stood before him, and his eyes faintly sparkled from behind his half-moon spectacles as he addressed the students.
'It shall soon be the end,' said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, 'of another term, and - indeed - another year.'
There was loud applause from all of the tables, who presumably couldn't think of anything better than not having to think about writing essays for another week or two. At his podium, Dumbledore smiled serenely and calmly waited for the noise to die down.
'But, before I allow you all to leave and enjoy the festivities in whatever manner you so choose, first I must make two announcements. The first comes in relation to a celebration - or rather, a ball, if you will.'
An excited whisper swept across the Great Hall, albeit almost entirely amongst the female students. The unanimous reactions from the boys took on more of the form of a begrudging grunt. Dumbledore stood perfectly calm as he watched them murmur themselves into silence.
'To honour a special anniversary of the founding of this great school, the Great Hall will play host to the Founders' Ball in the new year. Every student in this hall,' announced Dumbledore, 'will be welcome, should they wish to come.'
Once again, murmurs swept across the length of the hall.
'In regards to my second announcement, it is my belief - I do hope that I am not mistaken in saying this - that it will lift your spirits somewhat more. With the weather as it currently is,' said Dumbledore, gesturing towards the snow-laden window behind him, 'myself at your age, I must admit, would not be unaccustomed to the temptation of throwing a snowball or two. It is with this in mind that I now leave you with my final gift of this year: for today, all lesson's are cancelled.'
This time an almighty noise erupted in the hall, with students of all houses and ages cheering and whistling and clapping.
'Yes, I must say I expected that reaction,' said Dumbledore humbly over the noise. 'I hope to see you all soon in the new year, and that you shall all enjoy your time off for Christmas while you have it. I, myself, am rather hoping for some thick, woolen socks,' smiled Dumbledore. 'I find one can never have enough socks.'
And, with that, he reclaimed his seat in front of the staff table that lined the front of the hall.
'Brilliant!' beamed Ron over the noise of the ongoing celebration.
'Meet you all outside the Grand Entrance in 15 minutes?' shouted Harry to the rest of the table.
There was a general agreeance as everyone stood to leave.
'Why? What's happening?' asked George loudly as he climbed off the bench, the others already having left, as Fred climbed over the table.
Once again, Fred was smiling the same crooked mischievous smile.
'The mother of all snowball fights.'