Focus, Hermione thought to herself as she took a calming breath. She knew she had to get her head out of the clouds before she joined the amassed Weasley clan for the tree trimming festivities. There would be plenty of time later to analyze what had just occurred between her and Ron. She would be able to dissect and engrave each individual moment in her heart when she was in the solitude of her bed. She attempted a futile smoothing of her hair with her hands, a nervous habit that she could never escape. Gathering her courage, Hermione took the final few steps down the stairs and headed into the sitting room.
A small gasp of surprise escaped Hermione as she looked at the scene that lay before her. It was as if someone had brought one of her favorite childhood Christmas books to life. She felt her brain switch into observation mode, and willingly went along with her natural inclination, albeit in a haze of emotion and excitement.
The tree stood proudly in the center of the room as George and Percy placed tinsel on the branches. A smile spread across Hermione's face as she watched them take different approaches to the task. Where George was tossing clumps of tinsel haphazardly onto the tree and laughing as it fell like snowflakes, Percy was laying the tinsel on with deliberate care—one strand at a time. For all of their newfound friendship and partnership, it was comforting to see that in some ways the brothers were as different as ever.
Ginny was straightening the ten stockings that hung above the cheerily cracking fireplace. As Hermione's eyes passed over the hand-knitted stockings, she was touched to see that two had been made, one for her and for Harry, as well. It was little things like this that made her love Ron's family so, they always made sure that she and Harry were included, especially Mrs. Weasley.
Hermione's eyes glanced over the buffet set up near the back wall of the sitting room and bit back a chuckle. If there was one thing Molly Weasley did better than make people feel welcome, it was to ensure that they were well fed. The aging buffet seemed to bow under the weight of the Christmas Eve feast prepared by the Weasley matriarch. Foods both savory and sweet tempted the palate, and Hermione could not help but envy the skill present in every dish.
Aside from the buffet, Mrs. Weasley's edible Burrow was displayed prominently on a large table next to the Wireless. Hermione could not help but admire the detailed work of the confectionary. The enchanted gnomes were dancing to the Christmas song playing on the wireless. She giggled when she recognized the tune of the song "Twelve Days of Christmas," she hadn't realized that it played in the Wizarding world as well.
Mrs. Weasley was the first one to realize that Hermione had entered the room, and came around the couch to give her a hug. Hermione felt a sense of homecoming as the plump older woman's arms surrounded her. Mrs. Weasley began to pull her towards the old Weasley clock, but Hermione hardly heard what she said having been distracted by the red and gold Christmas globes that Charlie and Bill were putting on the tree. It seemed that house loyalty was something the Weasleys carried out long after their Hogwarts days were behind them, and Hermione took comfort in that fact.
"Hermione, dear, have you heard a word I've said? Where is your mind, dear girl?" Mrs. Weasley's amused tone brought Hermione back to the present and she had the grace to flush in embarrassment. For some reason she could not get her thoughts to stay in their normal focused pattern tonight, she really did need to sharpen up.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but I was just admiring your choice in color for the Christmas globes." Mrs. Weasley's smile broadened at that, and she gently turned Hermione to face the clock.
"Yes well, it's been a tradition since Arthur and I got married. Now then, as I was saying, I showed Harry this earlier today, and didn't think it right that you'd not seen it."
Hermione's eyes traced the familiar lines of the Weasley clock, trying to determine what Mrs. Weasley was trying to show her. It wasn't until she looked at the collection of hands pointed to 'home' that she realized what it was. Elegant script flowed over one of the hands detailing her name with a flourish. There it was; her name on the object that marked her as a member of the Weasley family. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she felt her heart swell with emotion.
"Oh, Mrs. Weasley. . ." Hermione got no further as the enveloped her in another hug.
"Now, now, no thanks are necessary; I really have been meaning to do it for years. But I thought that this year being an anniversary and all, well, it was time. And really dear, you must stop with this Mrs. Weasley nonsense. You can call me Molly, you know."
Wiping unshed tears from her eyes with the corner of her jacket, Hermione shook her head defiantly. "No, you know that I can't. You've been so wonderful to me ever since I first came to your household, calling you by your first name would seem too disrespectful to me. But you are right; Mrs. Weasley does seem too formal at this point. Would you mind if I called you Mum-Weasley, like Harry does?" Hermione bit her lower lip, hoping she hadn't offended the woman who had been practically a mother to her over the years.
When Mrs. Weasley's—no, Mum-Weasley from now on, she silently chided herself—first reaction was to pull Hermione into a bone crushing hug, the young woman knew she had not overstepped her bounds. Taking comfort in the love that was so freely offered, Hermione could not remove the grin on her face as Molly guided her back to the sitting room.
By this time, Ron had joined the rest of the family and was lounging lazily on the couch. At the approach of his mother and Hermione, a look of shock and—wait, was that apprehension?—crossed his features. He cast a questioning look at his mother before arching an eyebrow at Hermione in curiosity. Hermione just smiled and shook her head before crossing to sit on the floor between his knees. She leaned her head against his right leg and sighed contentedly when Ron gave her left shoulder a gentle squeeze.
She noticed the smile the interaction between she and Ron generated on Harry's face, but merely stuck her tongue out him childishly before mouthing the words 'Pygmy Puffs.' When Harry flushed a brilliant scarlet, she threw back her head and laughed aloud, feeling more joyful than she could remember being in months.
Opening her eyes, she saw Ron staring down at her with a look in his eyes for which she didn't even have words. She tittered nervously at the odd image this created in her head—little Miss Know-It-All, speechless, and all to do with a certain red-headed prat, who would have thought it possible? Unsure of whether or not to give in to her desire to pull his face to hers and kiss him, she settled to wink at him coyly before sitting back up. What on earth had gotten in to her tonight?
Of course, she knew the answer before she'd even finished asking the question. It was the whole day that had her feeling so giddy. Between the wonderful Christmas celebrations, the love she felt surrounding her from her adopted family, and the emotional reunion with Ron, she was feeling light-hearted and worry free. She gave brief pause to the consideration that perhaps she was making too much of what had occurred between her and Ron. These worrisome thoughts were banished when Ron casually played with her hair, twirling the curls around his long fingers.
A part of her was shocked at how easily these little signs of intimacy came to them. After all, they had spent a year apart and even before that their relationship had never really had the chance to take root. What with his Auror training and all of the time she had spent at the Ministry trying to prove her worth as more than a war hero and member of the "Golden Trio," they hadn't had time. It was something that Hermione had always slightly regretted, wishing that they had lived those first few years after Hogwarts to the fullest rather than cram them full of 'normalcy.'
But then, maybe they hadn't been ready for what was between the two of them. Would she have been able to allow herself happiness when so many others were left deeply grieved by the tragedies that had occurred in the war? No, and she didn't suppose Ron could have either. If they weren't ready then, what was it that made them ready now? A frown of concentration crossed her features, as she pondered the thought.
Leaning her head back to glance at Ron, she noticed he was looking at her again, the heart-flip inducing lopsided grin on his features. As she gazed into his blue eyes and counted the freckles that crossed his nose, she realized she didn't need an answer to her last question. At least, not one relayed in the specific detail she so craved in her working life.
What she knew was that both she and Ron had grown an awful lot in the past five years, and apparently what they had never been able to communicate in person had come out clearly in ink and parchment messages. The gap that had separated them for so long was finally closed, and rather than bicker because they were fearful of what the other thought of them, they could share little moments like this.
Satisfied with her conclusions, Hermione picked her head up only to lean it against Ron's knee once more, her arm forming a cushion. With hardly a thought, her free hand traced circles lazily up and down his leg. What a truly wonderful Christmas this was turning out to be; she could think of nothing else in the world she wanted.
Ron was sure if Hermione had any inclination the sparks she was setting off inside him with just the gentle touch of her fingers she would laugh aloud. He could not seem to get the grin off his features after she had sat down before him so comfortably. And who could blame him, when he had the witch that he had wanted for so long reclining next to him as easily as if they had spent the past five years together, rather than separated for one reason or another. He cursed the time he had wasted focusing on work and getting life to make sense after the war rather than treasuring her every single moment.
Winding his fingers through one of her curls, he realized that was an unfair thought. Whether or not they had been together hadn't changed the fact that he treasured her, loved her above everything else. They had been through too much together for it to be otherwise. And after the rather intense reunion they had shared earlier, he could no longer doubt that she felt the same about him.
Now if only we could get on with this evening. Ron cast a furtive glance at Ginny, as if to ask when she thought things were finally going to get under way. Years of being the youngest siblings paid off, and Ginny caught his meaning, jerking her head to their father's easy chair. Ron noticed that his dad was currently levitating a stack of seven boxes into the room, a smile on his face the entire time. A sense of relief flooded through Ron's system, with the beginning of this tradition the night truly started for him.
Ginny caught his eye from where she was curled up with Harry on the love seat. His baby sister sent him an encouraging smile, and Ron was once again glad he had trusted her to be a part of his plan.
The Auror training that had kept him calm when the boxes first appearedwas almost thwarted when Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"How does that charm go again, Ron?"
Laughter filled the room as Ron deliberately enunciated the incantation, and with a practiced 'swish and flick' of his wand levitated a glass of egg nog to Hermione. Having not spilled a single drop, he felt he was entitled to some praise as he beamed at her. In response, she raised an eyebrow and began levitating the nutmeg from the kitchen, moving it through elaborate loops and turns on its path. With a final flourish, she caused the open bottle to linger directly underneath Ron's nose before taking it in her hand. This not only made Ron's ears turn pink, but a fresh chorus of mirth to fill the room once more. Hermione sprinkled some nutmeg over her drink, and sipped it with an expression of feigned innocence on her features.
Without thinking anything of it, Ron leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's smirking lips. There was a brief silence at this action, and Ron spent it looking into Hermione's shocked eyes. He was on the verge of apologizing when she flashed her brilliant smile at him, causing his ears to go from pink to bright red. The tension of the moment eased, the Weasley brothers immediately began various cat calls and whistles. George came around from the back of the tree and clapped his brother soundly on the back, declaring it was "about ruddy time." Despite his embarrassment, Ron couldn't help but grin—she was the cleverest witch of their generation after all, how was he supposed to resist?
It was with a smile of his own that Mr. Weasley called the attention of his children back to the task at hand. The aging ornament boxes began to float toward each of the Weasley children, with George taking two off of the stack. Ron took the box that was covered in childish writing proclaiming it to be the property of "Ronald Bilius Weasley—NO TWINS ALLOWED!" He ran a finger over the letters, remembering how fiercely protective he had become of his possessions after the year Fred turned his teddy into a spider. For a moment he was lost in the world of memory, until Hermione's voice recalled him to the present.
"Ron, what's in the boxes?" Ron looked at her, watching the quizzical expression on her face mingled with her amusement as she traced the scrawled letters of his name.
Ron pulled open the lid of the box and gestured for her to look inside as he began his explanation. "It's a family tradition. Every year for Christmas each of us gets a new ornament to put on the tree. Mum started it when Bill was born because when she and Dad got married they didn't have anything to put on their first tree, and she never wanted her children to feel that way. So as you can see, we've all amassed quite the collection over the years."
Ron let his hand wander over the decorations before finally selecting the first ornament that his parents had ever given him. A stuffed bear held a picture frame that contained a portrait of Arthur and Molly Weasley holding a young Ron who was eagerly munching on a chocolate biscuit. He gingerly handed it to Hermione so she could examine it, and was slightly startled to see her softened expression. She traced the outside of the frame before looking up at him with a soft smile. Ron felt the compulsion to kiss her again, but resisted it by launching himself into a description of the rest of the items his box contained.
"The first few ornaments are mainly pictures or something that reminds Mum and Dad of when we were babies. After that, they started to buy us ones that matched our interests and personalities." He nodded to where his oldest brother was hanging a miniature of the Great Sphinx. "For Bill it was always exotic places. Mum got him that one the year he took the job with Gringotts in Egypt."
Ron watched as Hermione soaked in his words before turning to watch Charlie. He was stroking the beak of his hippogriff ornament. "Let me guess," she said with a grin, "magical creatures?"
Ron nodded with a look of mock seriousness on his face, "Yeah, but watch out when he brings out the dragon ornament. Dad bought him this really nice German ornament that breathes actual fire—one year it signed the back of George's hand really good! See if you can guess what Percy gets every year." Ron knew he should probably be placing his own ornaments on the tree, but he was enjoying sharing this tradition with Hermione far too much.
As Hermione watched Percy place what appeared to be many different wizards on the tree, Ron chuckled to himself. Percy's collection was the one most difficult to discern any actual meaning from, and he decided to help Hermione out a little. "This first time you met me, some of those wizards were spread out all over the seats of mine and Harry's compartment . . ."
"Oh! They're wizards who've been on the cards you get with Chocolate Frogs then? That seems awfully grown up for a child's ornament collection."
Shrugging, Ron responded, "Well, Percy's always been really ambitious. He wanted to grow up to be on one of those cards some day—he's actually the one who got me hooked on them to begin with."
"Ah," Hermione nodded, "So I suppose George is next then?"
Ron felt his chest tighten slightly as he nodded, "Yeah, ever since . . . well ever since the battle George puts up both his and Fred's. Dad wasn't going to bring them out that first Christmas but George went ballistic. Says the tree would never look right without both sets of ornaments. Mum actually agreed with him and she still buys an ornament for Fred every year—I think George is saving them to give to any kids he has." Ron did not stop the single tear that rolled down his cheek caused by the emotion tangled up in the situation. After Percy had freed George of his heart-ache, the remaining twin had been adamant about preserving his brother's memory in every possible way.
His sadness left him in a burst of laughter as Hermione gasped at what George was putting on the tree—one unused Filibuster Fireworks and a Fanged Frisbee that looked as if it would happily bite the hand holding it. "Ron! Is their collection—"
"A selection from Zonko's Joke shop? Yeah, pretty much all of their ornaments are either items from there or models of sweets from Honeyduke's that were their particular favorites. Did you really expect anything different for those two?"
"Well no, not exactly. So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that all of your ornaments are either to do with the Canons or chess, then?" Snickering, Hermione removed the miniature canon that occasionally shot out orange smoke balls from Ron's box.
"I do have a history of having excellent taste, so I don't suppose you should be surprised. You can put that one on the tree if you'd like." Ron carefully set the box with the rest of his ornaments next to him on the couch, and selected the ornament depicting a chess set to hang on the tree. He watched as Hermione hung his ornament and crossed to Ginny, clearly searching to learn what the youngest Weasley sibling had in her ornament box. Ron wondered what she would think when she learned the Ginny—the very definition of a tom boy for the most part—had a collection of 'classic' accessories for her ornaments. He didn't have much time to ponder it, as he could soon hear Hermione making a fuss over the silver brush that Ginny was showing her. Girls, he thought quietly while shaking his head.
For several happy minutes the process decorating of the tree consumed Ron's thoughts. It was easy not to think about what was coming as he took advantage of his height to place his ornaments high on the branches, taking pains in pointing out this advantage to George who was fighting with Charlie over ownership of one of the other branches. George promptly threatened to place Ron's best loved ornament—a keeper decked out in full Canons' robes—directly in the path of Charlie's dragon. It was true that they could have easily levitated their ornaments into place, but there was comfort to be found in doing such things without magic.
After several hours of trimming the tree and eating Christmas Eve dinner in between chaotic decorating spurts, the tree was finished. The Weasley family lounged comfortably all around the sitting room, admiring their handiwork. With the ornament collections of the children proudly displayed among the Gryffindor themed globes, it was truly a fitting depiction of the family: slightly eccentric as well as a haven for warmth and love. Ron was incredibly grateful to be a part of both the tree and this night, surrounded by the people who meant the most to him in the world.
The evening was winding down, and Ron could tell that the warmth emanating from the fireplace was seeping into the people around him. At this rate, it would not be long before his parents headed to their room for the night. He sent a meaningful glace to Ginny, who nodded once and excused herself for a moment.
Pulse thrumming in his ears, Ron heaved a sigh of mingled contentment and anticipation. The moment he had been waiting for all day was close at hand.
Curled up next to Ron on the couch, Hermione had to struggle not to give in to the urge to doze off. The feelings of safety, of a sense that she was home warmed her through and through, giving her no desire to leave the Weasley's couch. She could not fathom why Ginny had left her similar position next to Harry on the over-stuffed loveseat. Stretching languidly while reveling in having Ron's strong arm around her, Hermione briefly wondered what Mum-Weasley would do if she, little Miss-Bookworm, chose to fall asleep here wrapped in Ron's arms.
Ginny's return to the room cut off that particular train of thought. The young woman held a small box in her hand and stood before a very bemused looking Harry.
"Harry, I wanted to give this to you, seeing as its Christmas and you're going to really be part of our family in a few months. So here you are, love, your first Weasley family ornament!"
As the entire family watched Harry hurriedly unwrapped and opened the box Ginny had given him. For a moment, his face was a mask of delight that slowly turned bright red before he began to laugh so hard that tears coursed down his face. Ginny joined in with his joyous laughter, a triumphant smile on her face.
The source of their shared mirth became apparent as Harry lifted the ornament from its packaging. Two soft-toy Pygmy Puffs—one bottle green and the other a rich hazel—appeared to be nuzzling one another, while pipe-cleaners entwined to form a heart above them. Gales of laughter greeted the revelation, and the merriment only intensified when Harry literally strutted from the loveseat to proudly hang the ornament.
So lost was Hermione in the moment that she hardly noticed when Ron gently touched her shoulder. She turned to find him gazing intensely at her, blue eyes shining with laughter and something deeper. It was the look he had given her before kissing her in his room earlier, and the intensity of it made her breath catch. Drowning in the depths of his eyes, it took Hermione a moment to process that he was speaking.
"Um, Hermione, I uh, that is…I got you an ornament too." With bright red ears and trembling hands, Ron brought forward what appeared to be an antique puzzle box that held a space for the missing piece. Curious as to the reasoning behind his choice, yet eager to show her appreciation for the unexpected gift, Hermione took it carefully in her hands and stood to hang it on the tree.
As she took a step towards the tree, Hermione felt a new kind of warmth spread in her hands. Looking down at the ornament, she saw that the missing piece was slowly materializing. She brought the now completed puzzle box close to her face, and gave a little start of surprise when she saw a catch unclasp on the box. Slowly, the top of the box began to lift away and Hermione was left staring at a gorgeous sapphire and diamond ring.
A squeak of surprise escaped her as she whirled in place to ask Ron a question. It died on her lips as she found him down on one knee before her. Her eyes became as big as dish plates and her right hand flew to cover her suddenly open mouth.
"Hermione, I've done a lot of thinking over the past year." Ron's voice was shaky with emotion, but gradually drew strength as he went on. "What with you being gone, and all. I realized that when you're away, a huge piece of my life—no, my heart—is missing. And I've decided that I don't want to spend another day without you, let alone a whole year. So, well, will you marry me, 'Mione?"
Blue eyes gazed at her, and Hermione was sure she could see the sincerity of his love shining from Ron's very soul. And she, the girl who had the answer to every question, was speechless. Her mouth made movements in an attempt to speak, but her heart had grown so in her chest that the words simply could not come out. She blinked in a futile effort to stem the tears flowing freely down her face, and mutely nodded in response.
In the span of a single fluttering heartbeat, Ron was before her, taking the ring and placing it on her finger. That grin was back on his face, though tears to match the ones on her face coursed from his eyes. Two heartbeats later, he had lifted her off the floor and into an embrace that made her melt on the inside. Four heartbeats after that, the two pulled apart to gaze at each other for a single moment before they resumed their kiss. This, Hermione thought, is what people mean when they talk about true happiness.
It was in the middle of their second kiss that their audience reacted. The Weasley brother's immediately began to shout and cheer their younger brother's courage, and Hermione felt herself being pulled away from Ron only to be hoisted into the air by Fred and Percy. From atop their shoulders she could see Mum-Weasley sobbing in joy as Da-Weasley pulled Ron into a fierce congratulatory hug. Ginny caught her eye and mouthed 'sisters at last' as Harry wrapped his arms around his fiancé's waist and beamed. Charlie kept asking how in Merlin's name Ron had managed to keep it a secret from his brothers, and Bill merely smiled and shook his head. Through it all, she and Ron kept glancing back to one another, the joy of this moment outweighing anything that anyone could say to them.
Several hours later, once everyone had gone to bed after the excitement, Molly Weasley made her way to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. Descending the last step, a noise in the sitting room caught her ear. Cautiously looking in, she found her youngest son sleeping soundly next to his new fiancé, the two of them lying side by side in contented slumber. Molly dismissed her motherly worries about propriety, having ushered the rest of the family to bed hours ago to give the two a bit of privacy.
Tip-toeing closer, she stifled a laugh as she recognized the shirts they wore; how could she not when she had made them herself? Hermione wore a jumper that must have come from Ron's school days, and Ron was curled in the one she had given him last year. Lying there nose-to-nose on the old couch, the two were a perfect picture of young love. Tenderly, Molly draped a quilt over the sleeping pair lest they catch cold, and saw her future daughter-in-law's ring winking merrily in the firelight. The glinting jewel seemed to be a symbol of the promise she saw embodied in these two young people who had been tied to one another for long. Truly, this was a Christmas Eve that would not soon be forgotten in her family. Her heart bursting with pride and love, Molly tip-toed back to her room, deciding she was not really thirsty after all.
pantgaspwheezepant A/N: There! After MANY days of toiling and lots of paper crumbled up in disgust, I present this to you, my wonderful readers. Thanks, as always, go first and foremost to my amazing Beta hgfan1111--may our late night e-mails, griping sessions and plot bunnies never fade, you have become an awesome friend in the past few days and I truly appreciate you.
(By the way, y'all should totally head to HG's page and read her amazing stories--the woman is an inspiration for SERIOUS!)
Secondly, my reviewers! I love you all so, it really brightens my day to open my inbox and discover all the love you have been sending my way. Talk about a head rush. Now I know, I know, more mention of the Pygmy Puffs without further explanation. It's coming in a later chapter, as hgfan1111 came up with a simply scrumptious idea that she and I are going to work on. So until then, you shall just have to wait and see.
Thirdly, to all of you people who are reading and not reviewing (and I know you exist, there's no way my reviewers have read this 1300 times on their own): Hi! If you're liking the story, hating the story, or just goofing off in between hours at work click the review button and say hi! It really brightens an author's day to hear how their work is received, even if it isn't positive.
And finally: I don't own these characters or the world they live in, I just like to play in it. A lot. Especially with the Weasley's.
Glomps, hugs and Pygmy Puffs,
UD
