Yohoho and a bottle of Pumpkin Juice!
Third chapter! I'm hooked on this! I love Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger. Oh yes I do.
DISCLAIMER:
But the ironic thing is, no matter how much I do, I'll never be able to own them.
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Happy Reading!
Made this chapter extra long.
…
Hermione giggled.
"Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see."
Ron and Hermione had just pulled out from the rugged shop window. Hermione turned back to look at the doll on display.
The shop (Purge & Dowse Ltd) was dilapidated as ever, if not, even more. The windows were very dusty and whatever that was behind it was nearly impossible to make out. The dummies that sat on display were starting to get moldy. Some of their heads were drooping off, threatening to tear at the seams and roll off – and some already had. Ron shook his head in distaste.
"Don't even bother to make it near presentable, do they."
Hermione silently agreed. Ron grabbed her hand and they made their way into the wintry city air of London. Cars whizzed past and Ron watched on with much amusement.
"It's so odd not to see them flying."
And they continued, Ron grabbing Hermione's arm a little tighter, intent on getting past the gaggle of Christmas shoppers. After their (rather unsuccessful) attempt to avoid the crowd, they finally made it to the train station and got on the train.
"When are you going to tell me where we're heading?" Hermione, half-laughing.
"Come on Hermione. It's a surprise!" Ron replied while giving her a one-armed hug, using the other hand to clutch a handrail. Hermione buried her face in his trench coat, taking a whiff of his smell – her favorite smell- and the smell of a mix of soap and Ronness filled her nostrils. She basked in his pleasant smell for a while, before looking up at Ron who smiled back at her. They distinctly heard someone hissing "get a room!" before they got off at the next stop.
"Is it a Muggle shop?" Hermione questioned. Ron merely flashed her a mysterious grin before they entered a deserted ally.
Shop after shop they passed, each as much of a ramshackle as the entrance to St. Mungo's. Hermione noted that each shop was completely empty. Hermione's curiosity grew increasingly as each second passed – and Ron was not doing much to satisfy it. Just as Hermione was about to shoot another question, however –
"We're here." gasped Ron, out of breath.
They had stopped in front of a squat little shop, right in the heart of the rest of the deserted shops. But through the display window, Hermione could see why it stood out so well from the rest. It was bursting with life. There were dozens of people cheering, laughing and talking amongst themselves, sitting around little teak tables. Red and gold streamers lined the ceiling, and so did bits of holly and mistletoe. A rather large but jolly-looking woman in an apron was winding through the tables, carrying a tray of steaming lasagna.
"Welcome to Ulysses and Dilleys." whispered Ron. He pushed open the oak door and Hermione's ears were flooded with noise.
As Hermione took in the sights and sounds, the large woman with rosy cheeks walked over to welcome them.
"Mr. Weasley! Table for two? Right this way!" she said, beaming, and led them to a table in a cozy corner.
"What would you like to have?"
"A Firewhiskey and… Hermione?" Ron looked at his still very awed girlfriend.
"Butterbeer."
"Alright then, Butterbeer and Firewhiskey, coming right up!"
And she walked off, shouting their orders to a skinny and middle-aged barman.
"So how do you like this place?" Ron asked. He placed his gloved hand over Hermione's.
"It's great," Hermione replied. "Haven't sat down for a decent meal at a restaurant for ages."
Ron chuckled. He leaned forward and kissed Hermione on the tip of her nose.
"Neville recommended this place to me."
Upon hearing her childhood friend's name, Hermione was a little more alert.
"How is he at work?"
Ron raised his eyebrows amusedly. "He makes a surprisingly good Auror. Hasn't screwed up so much as scorch his own buttocks by accident."
Hermione laughed. Neville Longbottom… he was always such a blockhead during their school days, not being able to do a single thing right. And when she had heard that he had made it as an Auror two years back, she nearly fell of her chair laughing.
"But never mind about him. 'Mione… I've got something to tell you." Ron looked meaningfully at Hermione, who stared back.
"My family wants to come over for Christmas." she made no reaction whatsoever.
"And WELL... Since my house is a mess…" Ron trailed off.
"Itoldthemitwouldbecoolifwehaditatyourhouseinstead." he blurted out.
"What?" Hermione frowned, having not gotten what he just said.
"I told them to go to your house instead."
"What!"
"But 'Mione! My mum! You know what a racket she'll make if she sees my house like… like that." Ron looked at Hermione pleadingly.
"Fancy having your fiancé invite his whole family to your house without seeking your permission!"
"PLEASE"
"But that's in two days…"
"PLEASE"
"I don't even have any decorations up!"
"I LOVE YOU HERMIONE! PLEASE!"
"Oh alright. And I reckon that I'll be doing all the cooking?" Ron smiled sweetly. Hermione sighed in resignation.
Despite having a new burden piled onto her shoulders, Hermione and Ron were able to enjoy their romantic tea together. Hermione liked Ron's family, especially fond of the twins, what with their pranks and liveliness. She was also close with Ginny, the baby of the family, as they were both close and shared the misfortune of being brought up with boys. And there was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, whom Hermione liked a lot. They were friendly and warm, and Mrs. Weasley was very fussy, but still very kind. Hermione was not so close to Bill and Charlie, but found them very pleasant too. As for Percy… Hermione cursed under her breath. That ingrate was still estranged from his family. Even after they had clothed and fed him for practically his whole life, he deserted them to serve Fudge, the delusional ex-Minister of Magic who wore a lime green bowler hat.
Hermione sniffed. Who wore lime green bowler hats, anyway?
The next two days were pandemonium.
"RON!"
"What!"
"Stop trying to burn Crookshanks' whiskers! Help me pin the streamers!"
"But-!"
"NOW!"
"RON!"
"What!"
"COULD YOU HELP ME WITH THE HOLLY!"
"I thought I just put it in the bowl…"
"No! You put it in Crookshank's food bowl! Now he ate everything!"
"Oh."
"Don't Oh me! Pick some more!"
"But-!"
"NOW!"
"Ron, do you happen to know where the treacle tart is?"
"What treacle tart, dearie?"
"The treacle tart I put on the table."
"Um… it's… inmybelly."
"RON!"
But being the perfectionist as she was, Hermione was able to settle everything and by Saturday evening (Christmas Day), Hermione's house was spic and span, decorated beautifully, with holly, red and gold streamers, mistletoe and best of all, there was a real fir tree in Hermione's living room, with live fairies fluttering inside the enormous star that stood proudly at the top of the tree.
"It looks wonderful, 'Mione." Ron said, seemingly satisfied with himself.
"Yes, no thanks to you." replied Hermione scathingly.
"But- but I helped you bring in the tree!"
Hermione glared at Ron.
"That was after you felled the tree on top of Crookshanks. And pulled my door off its hinges in the process of bringing it in."
Ron started mumbling unhappily under his breath. Hermione hugged him.
"But thanks dearie. I wouldn't have done it without you."
Ron broke into a wide grin, and they stood there, in each others' arms, admiring their (mostly Hermione's) hard work. The dinner was set on the table, steaming and emitting wafts of mouth-watering scents.
Just as they were enjoying each others' company, there was a knock on the door. Hermione pulled away from their embrace and answered it. And there stood Ron's parents – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Merry Christmas!" they chorused.
"Merry Christmas Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!"
"Oh don't worry about formalities, lovie! You're about to tie the knot with dear Ron anyway – just call us Mom and Dad."
Hermione's face reddened at the thought. It would feel so awkward after a decade of calling them Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
She ushered them in, and behind them was Ginny and Charlie. They chorused their Christmas greetings and came in too.
"Where's Fred and George?" Ron asked. "And Bill?"
"Oh, they went to get Harry. They're coming in a while." Ginny said casually, shrugging her coat and scarf off.
"And Bill's in Egypt with Fleur. Some second honeymoon, I reckon." added Charlie.
"Phlegm." Ginny corrected irritably.
"Harry?" Hermione asked quizzically.
"Of course! Don't think I'd neglect my best friend on such an important day, would I?"
Hermione felt a little stone called Guilt sinking to the pits of her stomach again. How could she forget her best friend of so many years?
"I see. How are they coming?"
"Floo-"
And at that precise moment, there was a resounding BANG from the fireplace in Hermione's living room, and there was a greenish glow as emerald flames exploded from the fireplace.
A soot-covered figure rose from the fireplace, coughing and hacking.
"Hullo."
"Harry! Is that you?" Hermione gasped. She ran over to the black figure and started smacking him, sending soot flying all over the room, causing a very unhappy Crookshanks to yowl and scamper under the coffee table.
"Merry X'mas!"
And there were Christmas greetings shouted all over again. Soon, Fred and George arrived, both as equally dirty. But cleaning spells were whipped out and soon they were clean again.
"Wotcher." George and Fred called out in unison.
The bunch of them then filed into the dining room, taking whiffs of Hermione's cooking and complimenting them. A blushing Hermione modestly disagreed and they tucked into the feast.
"Remember when we hexed WonWon's teddy bear and it turned into a spider? You should have seen the look on his face!" George contorted his face to an over-exaggerated look of fear. Everyone burst out laughing.
"I did not look like an idiot!" Ron protested, banging down his glass, sending droplets of Butterbeer flying everywhere.
"Oh yes you did!"
Hermione, in the midst of laughing, heard a rapping on the back door in the kitchen.
"I'll go get it."
Everyone was still very tickled over Ron's childhood horror tale as Hermione sidled into the kitchen and opened the door to see a much unexpected guest who tumbled drunkenly into her arms as soon as it swung open.
"What the- Viktor?" Hermione said, horrified.
"Merry X'mas, Her-mee-on" he said in a singsong voice. He attempted to stand straight, but slipped and crashed into the kitchen table, spilling half the contents of the bottle he was clutching in his right hand.
I hate cliffhangers, but I'm doing one just to spite you :D
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Till the next time I update, toodles!