Chapter 10 - Christmas Eve at The Burrow
Hermione had been at The Burrow for nearly two hours by the time Fred and George finally arrived, and the cosy home was bustling with activity. Victoire ran circles around the tree, asking anyone who would listen when it would be time to open presents. Ron kept disappearing into the kitchen, trying his best to get his hands on a bit of food before dinner. His attempts failed miserably each time when his mother, who was well aware of his motives, chased him out again and again.
Everyone else milled around, chatting and sipping mulled wine, cider, or butterbeer. Hermione found herself on the sofa having a lovely conversation with Amber, Charlie's girlfriend, an American mediwitch that worked with him at the reserve.
As they'd been waiting for Fred and George to arrive to begin dinner, Molly immediately called them all to the table upon the twins' arrival. Hermione was pleased when Fred hung back, clearly waiting for her. He hadn't had a chance to greet her before the masses made a mad dash for the table. When she made it to where he stood, he pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. "Hi," he smiled, "sit by me, yeah?"
"Hi, yourself. Of course, I'll sit next to you." Giggling, she gestured to the only two seats left at the table, which happened to be next to each other. "Do we really have a choice?"
"I'm sure I could get someone to switch if you don't want to sit with me."
"As long as you promise I'm safe from any pranks, I'm happy to sit next to you."
Fred sighed, dramatically, "I suppose I can behave myself today. It is Christmas after all."
Hermione settled in to enjoy the delicious meal. It seemed better than usual with Fred next to her, pressing his leg against hers when they sat down and brushing the side of her hand as he passed the potatoes. He even reached down to briefly squeeze her knee while he chatted with Charlie across the table.
All of this, after the kisses the night before, seemed to be the only thing that Hermione could think about. She tried to carry on her own conversations, but she found herself thoroughly distracted by thoughts of Fred and curiosity over what would happen next.
Just as pudding was served, Ginny spoke up. "Harry and I have a gift for mum and dad that we want to give them now." Grinning, she looked at Harry who nodded and passed Molly a small box.
Molly unwrapped the gift and opened it, pulling out a small framed photograph. The older witch looked slightly confused as she held it aloft to show everyone. Hermione gasped aloud and clapped a hand over her mouth, immediately recognising what was in the photo frame.
Ginny grinned at everyone, clearly gauging reactions around the table before turning back to Molly. "Mum, do you know what that is?"
"I'm sorry, dear, but I don't. The frame is quite lovely, but I feel like I'm missing something important."
Taking Harry's hand, Ginny announced, "We're having a baby. That's a photograph of the baby inside my stomach. We went to see a muggle doctor to have it done."
There was a second or two of silence followed by a nearly deafening roar as everyone tried to shout their congratulations at once. Hermione was thrilled for her friends. She knew that Harry was going to be an amazing father.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught an exchange happening between Bill and Fleur. The couple shared a look and Hermione caught the tiniest shake of Bill's head before he turned his attention back to Ginny and Harry. It could have been about anything, but it made Hermione wonder if they would be announcing their own baby news soon as well.
She was quickly pulled from her thoughts when Fred's hand found hers under the table. When she dared glance in his direction, she found him watching her with an odd expression on. But she didn't have long to contemplate what it was about before Molly asked, "When's my new grandbaby due?"
They lingered at the table for a while longer until Victoire whined loudly, "Please, can't we open our presents now?"
Everyone agreed that the little girl had been patiently waiting long enough, so the table was quickly cleared before they headed into the sitting room to begin the long process of opening the presents stacked beneath the tree.
Hermione dashed up the stairs to use the loo before they got started. When she stepped back into the hall, she found Fred leaning against the wall across from the door. In two steps, he was standing next to her. Then, without a word, he swept her into his arms and proceeded to snog her senseless. When he released her, he grinned proudly as she wobbled a bit on shaky legs. With a cocky little wink, he slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Making her way carefully down the stairs, all she could think about was how wonderful Fred made her feel. That kiss had left her tingling all over in the very best way. She was falling for Fred Weasley, and now, instead of being terrified, she was thrilled. For the first time in her life, it felt like a relationship might actually work the way she wanted it to.
Before she reentered the sitting room where everyone was waiting, Hermione took a moment to compose herself. It felt as if she was floating two feet above the floor, and she was well aware that she had the goofiest possible grin on her face. There were far too many observant Weasleys for it to go unnoticed if she didn't get herself under control.
After taking a few calming breaths, she slipped into the sitting room and found a seat on the only open patch of floor, which was conspicuously located right next to George and Angie. The pregnant witch, who was leaning against George as she lounged on the rug, looked up and surveyed Hermione before nodding her approval, her face splitting into a wide grin.
Oh no! She hadn't thought to look in a mirror. What must she look like? Were her lips swollen? Was she otherwise disheveled? Bugger it! There was nothing she could do about it now. If she got up and left the room again, she would only draw more attention to herself.
When Fred appeared a few moments later, he quickly scanned the room, flashed her a smile, and, without hesitation, plopped himself down in the tiny space between Hermione and George. His hand rested briefly against the small of her back. It was an innocent gesture, but one that caused her heart to skip a beat nonetheless.
Soon after that, it was chaos. Gifts were passed to their recipients, coloured paper flew in all directions, and shouted cries of, "Thanks!" or, "This is brilliant!" rang out from around the room.
Hermione nervously watched as Fred unwrapped her gift, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw the look of awe and pleasure light his face as he stared open-mouthed at the contents. Before she knew what was happening, she was enveloped in a tight hug, Fred practically pulling her onto his lap. "Hermione, how did you find these? They're amazing, thank you! I can't believe you got those specific books for me. This is the most perfect gift I've ever received, but honestly, it's too much. You shouldn't have spent that much. I saw the signature, I know they're originals."
"You're very welcome, I'm thrilled that you like them. And they weren't too much, I promise. I'll have to tell you that story later." She pulled back, smiling at him, and pointed, "There's one more small thing, just there."
"More?" Fred's brows rose into his fringe. Ripping off the paper, he burst into laughter. "You got me a Clark Griswold jumper? I love it!" Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you!"
Hermione watched happily as everyone else tore into their gifts, pausing to open her own as someone passed one her way. As the pile under the tree dwindled down to nothing, she caught a small movement out of the corner of her eye and she watched curiously as George reached out to pat Fred's leg. Wondering what that was about, she made sure to watch them in her periphery, trying to determine if they were planning a prank. Because she was paying attention, she saw Fred start to rise only to sink back down, a dejected expression on his face.
Before she could wonder too much about Fred's behavior, she heard gasps and turned to see Ron on one knee presenting a ring to Lavender. She couldn't hear what he was saying from her position, but it was obvious to everyone what was going on. When Ron finished speaking, Hermione saw Lavender nod enthusiastically, holding her finger out to accept the ring before practically tackling Ron. The entire family clapped and cheered.
Turning to look at Fred, the smile slipped from her face. For some unknown reason, he looked more upset than she'd ever seen him. Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, he turned and whispered something to George, who nodded and gave him a small smile.
Fred leaned over to her then. "I have to go take care of something, but I promise to be back as soon as I can. Please don't run off, okay?"
Nodding, she whispered, "Okay," but she felt anything but okay. She watched in confusion as Fred crossed the room, hugging Lavender and clapping Ron on the back before he slipped out.
Where was Fred going? Why was he leaving during Christmas? He'd seemed genuinely upset by Ron's proposal; had it scared him off? Had he seen how happy she'd been for both couples that evening and panicked, thinking that she would expect something from him? Gods, this was miserable, and she had to put on a happy face and go congratulate Ron and Lavender.
As Hermione analysed every interaction she and Fred had had that evening, she was struck with the realisation that he hadn't given her a gift, and then immediately felt bad for even letting the thought cross her mind. Maybe he'd forgotten it and that's why he'd gone home. Perhaps the kisses had come out of the blue for him and he hadn't been thinking of her in the way she'd been thinking of him. Maybe he was her secret admirer after all. Or perhaps… perhaps this was all wishful thinking. Did he simply not want her to get the wrong idea? Hermione's theories bounced around her mind as she dissected every little detail. Finally, she sighed, unable to collect her thoughts properly.
This evening had truly been a rollercoaster. She'd gone from feeling incredible joy to absolutely a barrel load of confusion because she just couldn't make sense of what was happening with her, Fred, and her Christmas Admirer.
Pretending like nothing was wrong over the next couple of hours was maddening. Her stomach was in absolute knots. More than once, she was afraid that she would actually be sick, and when Molly brought out a tray of hot chocolate, she had to fight the urge to gag. She had no idea why she felt so strongly about this, but it was slowly dawning on her that she was way more attached to the idea of her and Fred than she had acknowledged. She wished he would return so they could discuss this, and at least she would know where she stood.
Not having the energy to chat, she commandeered a spot in a chair next to the fire and pretended to read a book about Romanian culture that had been a gift from Charlie and Amber. It was truly fascinating, and usually, she wouldn't have needed to fake her enthusiasm for reading, but right now nothing about it was remotely interesting.
The sympathetic looks that Angie kept sending her way didn't help either, and when the witch looked like she may come over for a chat, Hermione fled, rushing up the stairs to the bathroom. She hid inside for so long that Ginny eventually came up, knocking on the door and asking if she was alright.
Hermione waited until the others began to drift upstairs to bed, or out into the garden, before she snuck away. Finding an isolated stone bench a little way from the house she used her wand to clear it of snow and placed a warming charm on the surrounding area for good measure. Who knew how long she would be out here, and she desperately needed time alone to think.
She was truly happy for her friends. Ginny and Harry would be wonderful parents, and Lavender and Ron had been dating for years; it was past time for them to get married. Although she was thrilled for them, more than ever, she felt the lack of that deep personal relationship that they all had with their significant other.
It had begun to feel like she was building a relationship like that with Fred, but in light of his abrupt departure, and failure to communicate properly with her before he had left, she was worried that she'd read the situation incorrectly. While he'd told her that he'd be back and made a point to ask her not to leave, she'd lost hope that he would really return after he'd been gone more than an hour.
Blast it all, she huffed out a frustrated breath as tears started to slip silently down her cheeks. Why had he kissed her earlier if… No, she wouldn't allow herself to even think about that. He'd clearly decided that kissing her was a huge mistake. Why else would he run away with barely a word to anyone on Christmas Eve?
Her thoughts drifted to her secret admirer. At least she had a chance for happiness with him, whoever he was. Unfortunately, she knew that whoever he did turn out to be, she would be disappointed, at least initially, because she'd wished so fervently that he would be Fred.
It was just her dumb luck that right at that moment, her solitude was interrupted by George and Angie. They were walking hand and hand through the snow when they came to a stop just in front of where she sat. From their position, they couldn't see her, but she could see, and hear them clearly.
George bent, cradling Angie's belly, and began to murmur to the baby. "I can't wait to meet you, little one. Next Christmas you'll be here with us and everyone will love you. You'll have so many fab pressies and I'm sure that Nanna Molly will feed you loads of lovely things while Grandpa Arthur and all of your aunts and uncles spoil you rotten."
When George stood and cupped Angie's cheeks so sweetly, his next words made Hermione's tears flow faster. "I love you so much, thank you for agreeing to live this life with me."
This couldn't be happening again! How had what felt like one of the best days of her life turned so quickly to misery? She wanted nothing more than to go home to the comfort and safety of her own bed. Hiding under the covers and having a marathon cry was the only thing that seemed remotely appealing right now.
But, she'd promised Victoire that she would be there to see her open her presents from Santa the next morning. If it wasn't for the prospect of upsetting the little girl, she wouldn't have hesitated to leave. Now, she was going to have to pull herself together and put on a happy face, at least until after breakfast. Then she would go home, lock her floo, and wallow in self-pity as long as she felt like it.