Merry Christmas My As- Foot

By: Missy

RW/HG

That's what everyone says on Christmas. "Merry Christmas Hermione!" or "Happy Holidays!"

Merry Christmas my as- I mean, foot.

See? He's already rubbing off on me. He, being my boyfriend of three years, Ronald Weasley. Yes, Ronnie Weasley, the boy I've been in love with since my first year. Curse the person who made me fall for that prat.

Sure, he's a loving, wonderfully attentive boyfriend, but he's also a bleeding idiot when it comes to gifts. Take for example my birthday last year. He bought me a scarf. It was a nice one, but my birthday is in June. See? Totally clueless.

Now, it's Christmas Day. I'm sitting on the couch in his flat, waiting for him to get out of the shower. I took one earlier, and he always complains that I take all the hot water, so he's probably taking a cold shower now.

Serves him right.

Usually, he goes to Ginny to see what I want for Christmas. Harry does the same with me, and we always tell each other what our boyfriends are getting us. Not this year.

Harry came to me and asked what he should get Ginny. I told him to get her the tennis bracelet she'd been ogling in the jewelry store we often frequent after work. I told Ginny the next day while we were making rounds at Mungo's that I told him to get it for her. When I asked her what she told Ron to get me, she stayed quiet. I begged. She said no. I threatened her. She said no. I groveled. She said no.

"Ginny," I had whined when she still refused to tell me. I knew he went to her. I was dying to know. "Please, it's tradition."

Ginny gave me a pout, "Hermione, I can't tell you, okay? You'll just have to wait."

I hate her. Absolutely hate her. I told her, she tells me, that's the deal. And now, she's going back?

I was jolted out of my pity party when the woodsy smell of my evil boyfriend's cologne drifted to my nose. "Hey Mione," he said cheerfully.

I may have been mad at him, but I smiled anyway. He took my hand and pulled me up. "Ready?" he whispered.

I wanted to strangle him. Why was he making it so hard for me to be mad at him? "Yes," I sighed.

He cradled my face in his hands, "Are you alright love?"

The concern in his voice made my heart ache a wee bit. "I'm fine."

He smiled. He's so adorable when he smiles. "Good. Mum's probably going ballistic wondering where we are. Let's go." He took my hand and we flooed to the Burrow.

It's hard to stay mad when you arrive at the Burrow. The flutter of activity is overwhelming and the squeal of the little kids is so wonderfully amusing you have to smile.

Mrs. Weasley came over and hugged both of us before we were shuffled into the living room. A pile of colorful packages was stacked under the tree, and Fred and George were attempting to teach Fiona, George's two year old daughter, to sort the gifts.

She was picking them up and placing them all in a pile. Fred would then toss one to George, and then George would put them in separate piles. Everyone gathered around the tree, and watched as Fiona ran around giving everyone his or her gifts.

After everyone got the gifts, paper went flying. Everyone was tearing the wrappings off, squeals were abundant and I noticed I didn't have a gift from Ron.

I got a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, an assortment of Fred and George's jokes, a book on hexes from Bill and Fleur, several Romanian magical odds and ends from Charlie, a set of quills from Percy and Penelope and a pair of earrings from Harry and Ginny. Nothing from Ron.

That made my blood boil. It's one thing to be bad at buying gifts, but to not get one at all? That's infuriating. I stood up quickly and muttered something about going to the bathroom. I stormed out to the garden.

I must have sat there for five minutes before I heard footsteps. "Mione, I'm pretty sure the bathroom isn't out here."

I ignored him. It wasn't about the gift. It was about the fact he didn't even try to spend a little time on me. What kind of relationship is this anyway?

He sat on the snowy bench next to me and I shivered. Partly because it was starting to snow, but mostly because I was so mad. He wrapped an arm around me. "You okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" I shouted, standing up. "Did you even try to go shopping this year?"

He looked confused before smiling. "I just haven't given you your gift yet."

I thought he was trying to dig himself out of trouble, "Really?"

He stood and pulled something out of his pocket. Much to my surprise, he got down on his knee and looked up at me. "Mione, you have no idea how long it took me to get the perfect ring, and I hope this makes up for all the terrible gifts I've given you over the past couple of years." He held the white box up and said, "Will you marry me?"

My mouth fell open. He's proposing, he's proposing, SAY SOMETHING!

"Um," YES, SAY YES DAMNIT! "Yes. Yes!"

He sighed in relief and slipped the thin silver band on my finger and stood up. I doubt he'd been on his feet for more than a second before I threw myself at him. I vaguely remember hearing cheering in the background as I kissed my boyfr- I mean, fiancé.

This is definitely the merriest Christmas I've ever had.

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Love the girls that are keeping the holiday sprit alive,

Missy and Lain