Perfection Takes Many Forms

Author's Note: Originally published on January 28, 2010

Ron rolled his eyes as his fiancée bounced gleefully beside him, her mitten-covered hand dragging him towards the entrance of a Christmas tree farm.

He watched, bemused, as she breathed in the strong pine scent and began meticulously examining the rows of dark green firs. Her face scrunched into a familiar look of concentration as she sought to find the perfect tree for their flat.

"Hermione, can't we just transfigure an old broom into a tree, like Mum does? You can shape it however you want."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point, Ron, is that I want our first tree together to be natural and just right. When I was growing up I loved helping my parents pick out a tree every year. It was one of my favourite Christmas traditions and I was hoping we would continue it."

Ron glanced down at her and smiled. She looked adorable recalling her youth, her cheeks red from the cold and her wild brunette strands covered in a light dusting of snowflakes. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a lingering kiss against her frosty lips.

"Mmm... what was that for?"

He chuckled quietly. "Couldn't help myself—I love seeing you so excited."

"I'll be even more excited if you help me choose," she said sweetly.

He dropped his head. "Bloody hell, I hate it when you do that."

She gave him an innocent grin and stood on her toes to peck his cheek. "Do what?"

The corner of his lip turned up as he pulled her close, snuggling her into his side. "Well, c'mon then."

As they continued their search, Ron came to a sudden realisation.

"Uh, love, I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for. These all look the same to me."

"I'll know it when I see it."

"Great." he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He looked around aimlessly, trying his best to figure out which one would make her happy. Craning his neck up, he spotted one which stood out.

"This tree looks good."

"No, Ron."

"What's wrong with it?"

She laughed. "Do you honestly think it would fit in our flat? It's much too tall."

"Nothing wrong with tall," he mumbled under his breath.

She was a few feet in front of him when he stumbled upon the one. It was a foot taller than him and put the surrounding trees to shame with its perfect symmetry and rich colour.

"I've found it!"

Hermione turned, her face lighting up. "Oh, Ron!"

He flashed a cocky smirk. "It was noth–"

She brushed past to peer intently at the short, pitiful, slightly misshapen tree half-hidden behind him. He should have known.

"This poor tree," she cooed, "no one's going to buy it."

He sighed, embracing the inevitable. "Fine, we'll take it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I know you want to, and it's a good reminder of where compassion has gotten us."

"And where's that?"

He swept her into his arms.

"Right here."