AN: I'm so happy you're still enjoying this. I am completely winging it, so if something doesn't match up or plot points are a bit loose; well just put it down to the magic of Christmas! Luckily, work is quiet this week so I'm going to take advantage and use the time to finish this and BA, hopefully by Christmas day but we'll see! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter too! :-)

Ron takes Hermione on her first Tesco experience then shares his favourite Christmas movie with her. Hermione gets close to learning why Ron doesn't like Christmas.

Ron was used to going to the supermarket - it was something he did almost once a week, although he usually hated it. He felt it a waste of his time and he disliked having to mingle with everyone. It didn't matter what time he chose to go; it was always busy. Nevertheless, if they wanted to ensure they had enough desserts for the dinner tomorrow; they needed ingredients.

He let go of Hermione's hand as they landed in a grim-looking alleyway behind the local Tesco's, forgetting for a moment she had never seen one before. Ron checked that nobody was looking before stepping out to the front of the store.

"So this is the place you go to get your produce?! It's huge – how do you need all this food?" Hermione took a few steps back from the store entrance to gaze up at it, almost getting hit by a car in the process. Her attention was distracted momentarily by the sound of the vehicle's horn blaring as she watched the driver pull away, making an obscene gesture with his hand as he did. "What kind of metal beast is that?!"

"They're called cars and they really hurt if they run you over, even if they're going slow…" Ron stuck his middle finger up at the driver then firmly looped his arm around Hermione's shoulder, almost protectively.

"Fascinating…" Hermione leaned into his grip; her heartbeat speeding up at the realisation of how close he was stood to her. His scent was strange, quite earthy, and manly and she suspected he used an artificial perfume. It wasn't unpleasant, she decided, just something she wasn't used to. "I've heard of automobiles, although not many people own one in my time. They're very expensive but yet, so many people have one…" She glanced around at the busy car park.

"Well, they're fairly common now, although still quite expensive. I don't see the point myself; I prefer to apparate but I can see how they're useful to muggles." He reluctantly withdrew his arm to take a trolley, placing both of her hands firmly on the handle. "Keep hold of that and don't let go…"

Ron grinned as he led her into the store. It was busier than usual, full of muggle shoppers desperately looking for last-minute presents and food. Although he was never great at planning, he was still surprised at how late muggles like to leave their Christmas shopping. Maybe they liked the thrill of potentially not being able to get what they needed; Merlin knows they didn't have a lot of things to enjoy in their lives.

What should have been a quick 20-minute dash around the shop took Ron and Hermione over an hour. Hermione was like a Crup puppy - she was interested in everything they walked past and had to pick each item up, eyeing it excitedly before bombarding Ron with a reel of questions about it. She needed to know everything and could sense when he was trying to fob her off with a half-hearted response. At one point, whilst he was distracted working out whether he wanted to buy rum or brandy, she had wandered off and Ron felt his stomach drop as he turned back to the trolley to find her missing; only to locate her moments later at the cheese counter, sampling everything they had to offer and marvelling at the amount of choice.

Eventually, they managed to get enough ingredients to make Christmas puddings for the thousands, not just the 30 odd people they were expecting tomorrow. As they walked together towards the tills, Ron dropped his head low towards Hermione's ear.

"Just be careful what you're saying in front of the cashier, yeah? We don't want to raise suspicions. Save your questions for afterwards and I promise I'll answer every one of them…"

"Properly?" An unfamiliar sensation prickled the back of her neck as she felt his hot breath on her ear.

"I promise…" Ron gave her a reassuring smile before starting to load their items onto the conveyor belt. He tasked her with packing the bags, which she did so enthusiastically. A couple of times she got distracted by the tills, almost throwing the questions at Ron before remembering his promise and clamming shut. At one point, her thought she was biting her tongue to stop the question exploding from her mouth, causing the cashier to throw a judgemental look towards her.

"She just really loves Christmas, okay?" He thrust the muggle money towards the assistant and helped Hermione to load the bags into the trolley before guiding her back out of the store, his arm once again thrown protectively over her shoulder. He wasn't sure where this urge to defend her came from but he'd actually enjoyed shopping for once, fuelled by her unadulterated excitement of learning about everything and it had almost made him feel cheerful.

He abandoned the trolley at the edge of their alleyway, lifting the bags one by one and shrinking them down before shoving them in his pockets. "That's better…" He smiled at her. "Come on then, we better get back and start baking. Do you think you can apparate yourself?"

Hermione pondered his question. His arm had felt nice around her shoulder and she shook her head. She craved his touch again and knew how to get it. "No, not yet, can you do it?" She gave Ron her sweetest smile and was rewarded by him grinning and giving her exactly what she wanted. She leaned into him as he apparated them back Grimmauld Place.

The house was already warm and cosy when they arrived. Kreacher had obviously visited while they were out; the fire was lit and the trail of mess Ron always left behind him had been tidied away. The house-elf tended to split his time between this place and where Harry lived with Ginny in Holyhead, although his loyalty was still firmly with Harry as his owner. For the first time since he'd moved in last week, he almost felt like he could call the place homely and he wondered how much that had to do with Hermione being around.

They made quick work of unpacking the bags, setting out the ingredients on the kitchen island. Ron turned to look at Hermione expectantly. "So, where do we start?"

She tutted, although there was a smile on her face. "Don't tell me you've never made Christmas pudding?!"

"Well no, not really. Mum usually does it. Last year was the first time I offered to contribute to the dinner, well the first year I could afford to due to getting a promotion in work. And then, I was already to make the puds and something else happened and I couldn't go. They had to go without dessert in the end and I did feel a bit guilty but…" He shrugged, although the tips of his ears had turned pink again. "Can't be helped, can it?"

Hermione regarded Ron closely as on the turn of a dime, he went quiet and sullen. She was usually good at reading people, although she wasn't the most sociable, preferring to withdraw to the library or her own chambers in the evenings after dinner. But still, her colleagues had always referred to her as trustworthy and she'd been told she was a good listener. Ron seemed to be full of brilliant stories; he'd obviously lived a far more interesting life than hers despite his young age and she craved to hear more from him. However, now wasn't the time or place; they had a goal and it needed their full focus if they were going to achieve it. Instead of pushing him further, she pushed the sleeves of her jumper up, in a move that made her look like she meant business.

"Have you got aprons?" She put on her brightest smile, desperate to break Ron out of his sudden funk. He noticed her effort and smiled in return, crossing the large kitchen to dig in a drawer. Eventually, he pulled out two; one white and one pink.

"I'll have the white one…" She closed the gap between them before he even had a chance to protest, grabbing it from his grip and tying it around her waist. Ron regarded the pink apron briefly before shrugging and putting it on. Once it was firmly fastened, he pulled a pose; his hands behind his head as if he were having a photo taken.

Hermione couldn't help but let out a loud laugh. "Oh, that's so fetching! Come on, stop messing around. We have work to do…" She pushed an errant curl behind her ear before getting stuck in.

It's usually customary to start making Christmas puddings one or two months before the day, mostly to let the alcohol soak into the fruit and mature. Hermione had fond memories of working with her Grandma in her cold, Nottinghamshire kitchen. She was usually in charge of stirring the ingredients together but sometimes, her Gran would let her have a sniff of the brandy. She remembered how it made her feel, seemingly warming her up from the inside out and making her extremities tingle. They sang traditional carols as they baked. Her Grandmother always had a way of making it feel like fun instead of work, a rule she tried her best to pass down to her students and she looked forward to it every year until she had died.

'The earlier in the day they'd started, the better,' her Gran used to say and that wasn't only just because the light in the kitchen was limited to the hours the sun was in the sky; by midday, the cooking had been finished and her Grandmother could usually be found asleep by the fire.

The modern technology in Ron's kitchen made everything a lot easier. When the room had started to darken around mid-afternoon, he had just leaned over and flipped a switch, illuminating the kitchen with the metal lamps hanging off the ceiling. Electricity, he had called it and Hermione had been surprised to hear it was muggles who had invented it.

A quick charm had solved the issue of the lack of time the rum had to mature in the fruit. The pair worked well together, dividing up the tasks and dancing around the kitchen with ease. They hadn't needed music or singing; instead, they reminisced about Christmases from their childhood and before long 5 Christmas puddings were sat on the kitchen table, ready to be wrapped up before they left for the dinner tomorrow.

Ron leaned against a counter as he watched Hermione pile the dirty utensils next to the sink. She'd wanted to clean as she worked, but he'd soon put a stop to that. The chaos of a messy kitchen reminded him of home and the never-ending list of tasks his mother worked through to put a Christmas dinner on the table. It was hard enough for her when there had only been nine of them, but as the Weasley siblings had grown up; it had expanded – bringing in stray friends, partners, and children. Now Molly often fed fifteen mouths and sometimes even more. All of his siblings were married now, even Percy, and Ron briefly wondered what it would be like if things had turned out differently for him.

He shook the thought from his head and made a mental note to see if Hermione wanted to join them at the Burrow for Christmas Day. Hopefully, for her sake, she'd be back to her own time by then but he didn't want her to have to sit in the house alone if she was still stuck in 2008. It would be quite nice for her to experience a big family celebration, although sometimes it could be overwhelming. From what he'd heard about her so far, she had a much smaller family and mostly chose to celebrate Christmas at Hogwarts.

"Hermione leave the washing up. Kreacher will be back before bedtime and he'll be delighted to sort it all out…"

Hermione turned from where she was carefully stacking another bowl on to the pile, her sudden movement causing it to wobble precariously. They had house-elves in the castle, of course, but they were always unseen and she could never imagine being able to discuss one with the casualness Ron was. However, she did have strong feelings on the appropriateness of using another magical being as a slave.

"No, not it's fine. I insist. The poor thing must have enough to do considering he manages two households…" She turned back, starting to run the tap and missing Ron rolling his eyes at her.

"But he loves it…" He tried to argue back. "If he's not kept busy, he'll just revert to stealing our trinkets…"

"I don't care Ron. He had enough to do this morning since I abandoned washing up our breakfast things. Anyway, I'm a witch – it won't take me long!" With a flick of her wand, the pile of dirty utensils started washing in the sink.

"Fine…" Ron pouted briefly behind her before getting distracted by his stomach growling. They hadn't eaten since breakfast, which was very unusual for him. "Do you fancy takeaway for tea?"

"What's takeaway?" She turned back towards him with another frown on her face.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't have had that! It's brilliant!" He dug a handful of menus out of a drawer and spread them out on the side. "You choose what you want then ring up the restaurant and place your order. In about half an hour, the food comes and you pay them with cash…"

Hermione left the washing up to sort itself out, drying her hands in a tea towel before wandering over to Ron. She picked up a menu at random. "Taste of China? So wait, the food comes all the way from China? How does it get here so quickly – surely that's magical?"

"No…" Ron laughed, ignoring the scathing look Hermione gave him as he pulled the menu out of her hands and opened it up properly. "They cook it down the road on Islington High Street. I'd be very surprised if any of them were actually Chinese. Most British looking muggles I've ever seen. Still, it tastes great, so I'm not going to complain. What kind of meat do you like? I'll order us a selection…"

She leaned into Ron, fully intrigued as she surveyed the list of food with him. She was amused when they bickered slightly over the final list, but in the end, she agreed to follow his guidance; he was the expert after all. She watched him place the order with an amazed look on her face. Once he hung up, she shook her head and turned back to supervising the washing up.

Within half an hour, the food had arrived and all the washing up had been dried and put away.

Ron had eagerly met the driver at the door; handing over the muggle change (which he'd had to demonstrate to Hermione and count out for her) before carrying the bags through to the front room.

He plonked himself down on the sofa and eagerly pulled out tray after tray of food, setting them out on the ottoman.

He smiled as she appeared in the doorway and patted the sofa next to him.

"So, the proper way to eat Chinese food is straight out of the carton." He held out a fork once she was comfortable. "Just tuck into bits and bobs as you fancy it; that way you'll get the full experience. Go on, you get first try…" He opened a container at random and held it out to Hermione, who dipped her fork into it tentatively. He watched her closely, his breath almost held as she practically inhaled the food, her eyes lighting up at the explosion of new flavours.

She chewed eagerly, desperate to tell him how good it tasted but she had been brought up with proper manners and taught never to talk with her mouthful. "Oh, that's amazing!" She grabbed the carton off him and sat back against the sofa, tucking in eagerly.

"Hey, don't eat it all…" He stole a forkful from her before picking out his own food. He reclined back onto the sofa, trying not to laugh at the running commentary as Hermione picked her way through all the meals.

With full tummies and a pile of empty takeaway cartons, Ron lazily lifted his wand; sending the rubbish through to the kitchen with the satisfaction of knowing Kreacher will be left with something to do at the end of the day. He turned his attention back to Hermione, who was now lounging contentedly, her eyes half-closed. She was adjusting well to the time period, it seemed and despite the fact it had only been a day, Ron felt like she'd always lived here with him. She was comfortable and he marvelled at the ease in which they were existing together.

Straight away, he knew what her next experience should be, even though it might throw up some painful memories for him but for the first time in a really long year, he felt ready to let at least some of his barriers down. It would evoke some questions from Hermione, but he trusted her; despite only knowing her for a few hours. He lifted his wand again, smiling as he accio'd the TV remote as well as a DVD case.

Once the latter was in his possession, he presented it to Hermione, who looked up at it with curious eyes.

"This is a DVD. We use it to store digital content, such as photos or music or films…" He forced himself up from his comfortable spot and carried on explaining its functions as he turned on the TV and set the disc in the player, eventually settling back on the sofa a little bit closer to Hermione this time. He pulled the waiting blanket from where he'd slung it over the arm the last time he'd used it and drape it over the two of them. He pouted as it only just covered his legs as he made sure she got the most of it.

"You're about to experience the best Christmas film ever; just don't tell my family I'm letting you watch it. I am very much firmly in the Bah Humbug camp this year and I don't want them getting ideas that I might actually enjoy myself this year." He gave Hermione a wink as the movie title loaded up; the camera panning down onto a wintery scene.

Hermione read the title and gasped, her eyes lighting up in excitement. "A Christmas Carol?! That's one of my favourite books. And you still know the story now?! I encourage the children to read it every year!"

She leaned forward from where she was sat, and Ron gulped as he got a glimpse of her bare skin above her jeans.

"So this is a movie?" She tore her eyes away from the screen to glance at Ron, frowning as he looked distracted. She followed his gaze, blushing bright red as she realised he was staring at a small patch of skin she inadvertently revealed when she leaned forward. "Hey, Ron…"

Ron shook his head, his cheeks matching Hermione's as he realised he'd been caught out. "Uhm… yeah, it's called a film or a movie…" He gave her a sheepish smile and watched Hermione turn her attention back to the film, an unmistakable smile on her face. She looked almost pleased with herself.

Her glee at being able to see one of her favourite stories brought to life filled Ron with a warm feeling, something he'd not experienced in a long while. It was only topped at her surprise as the puppets sung and danced their way through the story. It was even more endearing when she attempted to join in. The fact she didn't know the words or the tune didn't seem to stop her trying. He found himself watching her more than the movie, not that it mattered – he knew every song and line off by heart himself. He'd been 12 when he and his siblings had snuck into the muggle movie theatre close to his parents' home in Ottery St. Catchpole. He'd been hoping they were going to watch an action movie, but he'd been swept away from by the magic of the story. He'd tried every year to watch it since and sometimes managed it more than once.

He felt a heavy sigh escape his lips as he watched Ebenezer Scrooge deliver his presents across the village; his feelings about Christmas and charity changed for good. Christmas used to be his favourite time of the year, but he felt more akin with Scrooge this year. He hated it and the easy excuse it gave his brothers to tease him about being a Grinch but he wasn't surprised by the feeling. He cursed at himself as a tear escaped his eye.

Hermione's attention was drawn away from the movie by Ron's sigh. As the credits rolled, she turned her head to look at him with a small frown; he was crying, despite the movie's happy ending. The sad look on his face almost broke her heart and she carefully picked up the TV remote, contemplating it briefly before finding the button to turn it off.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Without thinking she shifted closer to him, picking up his hand carefully. She worried she'd done the wrong thing as he turned his attention to their hands and she was about to loosen her grip when he gave her a firm squeeze.

"I used to watch this with Lavender; at least twice a year…"

"Who's Lavender?"

Hermione felt her heart skip. Although he hadn't mentioned that he was courting, she wouldn't be surprised. He was a handsome man and seemingly had plenty to offer.

Ron stared at their hands thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "You know what? It doesn't matter! Come on, we better get to bed – we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow!"

With the moment passing as quickly as it had started, Hermione felt her shoulders droop. She had been so close to him opening up and talking to her; she thought they'd been working hard on getting to know each other, which only heightened the disappointment she felt.

"Oh, of course… come on then…" She helped him tidy up the living room then followed him up the stairs. She lingered deliberately at her bedroom door. "Well, good night Ron…"

"Night Hermione…" Ron gave her the briefest of smiles before heading towards his own room. She willed for him to look back, but he headed into his room and closed the door.

She shut her own bedroom door behind her before turning the lock, cursing herself for feeling upset. She'd thought they'd shared something today, a growing bond that had the potential to be more. Although she barely knew him, she was desperate to make this Christmas good for him and she thought the connection she'd felt was reciprocated. Perhaps she had been confounded by yesterday's accident. It felt her brain was upside and back to front. She changed quickly and got herself into bed, trying hard to push the sad thoughts from her head so she could get some sleep.