Winter Vacation by WeasleyForMe

Hermione and George have been together through thick and thin, and it's about time they treated themselves to a vacation! But maybe Hermione shouldn't have allowed George to plan the trip... what could possibly go wrong?

Happy Birthday to my dear friend Clover Bay! I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 4

When Hermione finally made it home after a late evening at the Ministry, she was tired, hungry and just wanted to take a bath. But, in order for her to make it through her front door, she had to kick suitcases and roll a bowling ball out of her way.

"George! What did you do?" she called down the hallway as she stepped over a pile of her sweaters. She followed the frantic sound coming from the master bedroom.

"Oh hey, sweet pea! You're home early," George said nervously, pushing some of his clothes back into the closet with the tip of his shoe.

"I'm home late!" Hermione disagreed shrilly. "And everything we own is everywhere! Why is my bowling ball next to the front door? And why is our bed covered in brochures?" she asked, leaning over to pick one up.

George tried to leap across the room and take it from her hand, but Hermione was too quick.

"What's Lake Alpschall?" she asked, suddenly forgetting about the mess.

"Well, it was supposed to be more of a surprise, but that's where we are going for our much deserved winter vacation. We leave for Switzerland on Saturday."

Hermione's face lit up. "We're really going away? You took care of all of it?"

George pulled her into a hug. "Well almost, I just need a personal check or a major credit card from you."

Hermione laughed heartily. "So I guess you're trying to tell me that I'm going to be the one paying for the vacation?"

George hugged her tighter. "Yes… Verity sent me to a muggle travel agency, and you know I'm not any good at that stuff, Hermione. Please?" he whined, peppering her cheeks with kisses. "What's mine is yours, right?"

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Hermione agreed. "Just please, let me finish packing," she said, her train of thought returning to her house which was in a state of complete disarray.

"Nope, I can't let you do that, because it's almost done! And dinner is in the oven!"

"Husband of the year material, you are," Hermione joked as she went to scoop George's world famous Mediocre Chicken Casserole onto two plates and open a bottle of wine.

After they ate, George sneaked around for awhile, packing their suitcases for the following week. He was so excited for Hermione to wear everything he had packed for her, and now that he was certain which items were the skis, he was sure he was doing a great job. He sat on their bed and went over his checklist one last time.

"George, I'm going to get a bath," Hermione said casually as she walked into their room.

"Sounds good," George mumbled absently.

Hermione pulled her blouse over her head, and then she unhooked her bra and tossed it at George as she made her way into the bathroom. "Coming?" she asked from the doorway.

George took one look at his wife and dashed into the bathroom behind her.

Saturday morning arrived before either of them knew it, and George found himself in the muggle airport in London, curious and yet terrified out of his mind. "Why did I agree to this?" he kept asking Hermione.

"You didn't agree to it, you planned it!" she told him with a laugh.

"But you're telling me we are going to go up in the air in a gigantic piece of metal? And that's supposed to be safe?"

Hermione took his hand in hers. "Muggles travel this way all the time, George. If we told them that there are people who apparate, fly on brooms and use portkeys, they wouldn't even begin to understand it. It's the same thing, George. You'll be fine, I promise."

He took his seat on the plane, repeatedly asking Hermione where their bags had gone. Once the engines were turned on and they started to move, George stared apprehensively out the window. As they sped up down the runway, he clenched his eyes shut and squeezed Hermione's hands until she wanted to cry.

When the flight attendant brought the drink cart by, George asked for a butterbeer, and Hermione had to elbow him in the ribs. "Two colas, please," she requested.

George did not understand why they had been given a fizzy drink and miniature sized bags of peanuts, but he was pleased that they did. He enjoyed his first flight more than he expected, although he was convinced someone was using magic to make the airplane stay in the sky.

"Welcome to Switzerland," someone told them once the plane was safely on the ground, followed by the same announcement in several other languages. George and Hermione grinned at each other; they were finally on their first vacation together.

"We have to go pick up our bags, and then we can head over to the hotel," Hermione said happily as they walked toward the airport's baggage claim area.

"Good thing too, because I'm starving," George replied, his stomach growling in protest. "Why didn't they give us larger sized bags of peanuts?"

Hermione shook her head at her husband. It was amazing the details of her life that pureblood wizards and witches just didn't seem to understand. "Well doesn't the hotel come complete with an all you can stuff down your throat buffet? Good thing we didn't fill up on peanuts."

"Oh, good call. Can we apparate to the hotel from here?" George asked.

"Nope, we're taking a cab," Hermione said as they pulled their suitcases from the conveyor belt and started to pull them toward the exit.

"Being a muggle is hard work," George muttered as they walked outside. "Holy Merlin's knickers! It is freezing out here!" He shivered as they stood in the wind, suddenly understanding why Hermione insisted they pack winter coats. "Who knew Switzerland was going to be cold!"

Hermione pulled him into a taxi, aware that people were starting to look oddly at her husband. "It's a good thing you packed plenty of warm clothes for us to wear."

George bit his lip. "Yes… a good thing."

Things don't sound too promising for George! Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!