This isn't the story I wanted to post right now - I had been hoping to write a new one (inspired by Ed Sheeran's Perfect video) but I haven't had time. Instead, I borrowed this little one shot from a future series of stories I have been writing.
It's just a little thank you to everyone for all the support of my writing that you have given me this past year with the reviews, PM's, follows, faves and the runner up in the Romione awards that meant so much to me. As someone who doesn't have many friends at all, let alone people who get my obsession with all things HP and Romione or who care much about my writing, your positive words do so much for my terrible self esteem. Thank you SO much!
And now, I just want to wish all those who celebrate a Very Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate, have a peaceful few days and Happy New Year to all! On with the show...
Ron returned to the lounge, levitating a tray full of mugs of hot chocolate whilst carrying a plate of biscuits and set it all carefully down on the coffee table before joining the three of us on the sofa, shifting Hugo up a bit and half sitting him on his lap.
"Right, are we all settled?" I asked, picking up the book. Ron nodded and I opened it to the first page, ready to read.
"Aaw, can't we have a different story?" Rose suddenly asked, upon spying the title of the book.
"But, we always read this book together on Christmas eve," I looked down at the ginger heads of our two children and then up at their father.
"I know, which is why I want a different one this year," Rose sighed.
"Yeah, a different one. I've heard that one a hundred times!" Hugo giggled.
"You've only been alive for five Christmas' Hugo, I highly doubt you can have heard it a hundred times!" Ron laughed, ruffling the mop of hair on our son's head.
"But, I thought you both liked 'T'was The Night Before Christmas'?" I asked, closing the book rather sadly. It had been a favourite of mine as a child and I loved reading it to my own children.
"Well, we do, but...can't we have something else this year?" Rose requested, a rather hopeful half smile on her face.
"Yeah, tell us something funny!" Hugo requested, wriggling as he swatted his dad's hands away that were now tickling him.
"Something different and funny," I mused, wondering what Christmas related book I had that met those requirements.
"How about, something real? A story from one of your Christmas'?" our eight year old daughter helpfully suggested.
"Yeah," Hugo grasped onto the idea. "Something from when you were kids too."
I met Ron's eyes above their heads, both silently thinking the same thing. Most of our Christmas' from our school days hadn't been particularly pleasant for one reason or another. But, perhaps we could think of something. He shrugged at me and I sighed, trying to think of something funny from my childhood to tell them.
"I hope I get that new mini Quidditch set from Father Christmas," Hugo muttered once more during the silence, something he'd been doing multiple times daily for the last few weeks – I'm sure it was a huge hint or perhaps he was hoping Father Christmas would hear his request. "That will be my bestest present ever!"
"Your best present, sweetheart," I corrected him automatically, whilst thinking of the item in question that our son had been going on about for the last three months. It was currently wrapped and hidden under our bed upstairs. I knew he was going to love re-enacting games with it, almost as much as his father would!
"Mum," he craned his neck to look up at me, "what was your best present when you were as old as me?" he wondered.
"Yeah! You can tell us that – the best presents you got. And the worst ones!" Rose looked at her brother and the pair of them grinned at one another conspiratorially.
"Hmm," I placed my finger on my chin as I tried to think about that one, trying to remember all the presents I had received as a child. And then looked towards Ron, feeling bad that they had requested such tails. After all, he had never received much, since his parents often struggled for money. I glanced his way and he met my eyes and smiled, stroking Rose's red locks as Hugo burrowed into his dad, making himself warm and comfortable. Ron really was the best father I could have chosen for our babies. And my heart melted once again at the sight of the three of them together.
Leaning forwards, I reached for the hot chocolate, handing out the mugs before taking my own as I continued to think.
"Can't you remember, Mum?" Rose asked.
"Well, it was a long, long time ago!" Hugo added.
"Not that long ago, mister!" Ron poked him, helping him with the mug of hot chocolate. "Anyway, I've thought of one of my best presents," he began, taking me completely by surprise.
"Go on then Dad," Rosie urged him.
"So, I must have been about six,"
"Like me!" Hugo interrupted.
"No! You're not six till next weekend!" Rose corrected him.
"That's still nearly six!" He poked his tongue out at her.
"Still a week away!" Rose responded.
"Hey!" Ron warned the pair of them. "Any more of that and there will be no presents for anyone tomorrow." he threatened. Rose and Hugo gave him wide, fearful looks as the argument quickly deflated. "As I was saying, I was about six, like Hugo nearly is. And that Christmas Mum and Dad, your Granny and Granddad Weasley, gave me my own chess set."
Rose looked up at him with wide eyes and then glanced towards the little table where the chess set usually sat ready for a game. "That one?" she asked. Ron nodded. "Wow, it must be really old!" she gasped.
"Older than you think, cheeky. See, it wasn't new when I was given it. It belonged to my grandfather, who would have been your great-grandfather. But, I was so excited about it because I knew it meant my Mum and Dad thought I was old enough to be trusted to look after it. And because I knew then they had noticed that I was good at the game and liked to play. So, I felt very special being given it and have looked after it ever since," he finished.
I smiled at him, touched by his story and he reached for my hand along the back of the sofa, clasping it in his.
"What about you Mum?" Hugo asked.
"Well, I was probably about five or six..."
"Like me again!" Hugo grinned, jabbing his sister in the ribs with with his elbow.
"Ow Hugo!" she shrieked and shoved him back.
"Remember what I said?" Ron reminded them both firmly and they instantly stopped fussing.
"So, I was five or six when my Grandma gave me a book token to spend."
"A what?" Rose wrinkled her nose.
"That sounds boring!" Hugo whined and pulled a silly face.
"A book token was like a voucher, you could spend it on books, like money, at a certain shop. And I was so excited because it was the first time I was actually allowed to choose my very own book all by myself. Mum and Dad had always done so before. Mum took me to the shop and she often likes to remind me about how I spent hours in there, pouring over hundreds of books."
"Not hard to believe," Ron commented, winking at me above the heads of the children.
I pulled a face back before continuing my story. "In the end I chose a huge children's encyclopedia. Mum tried to get me to buy classic fairytale books or the new Roald Dahl ones, but I really wanted the encyclopedia. In the end, she gave in and apparently I spent the remainder of my school holidays pouring over that book. I probably still have it, somewhere."
"What's an in-cycle-lo..." Hugo asked me, stumbling over the word.
"It's a very thick book that has lots of facts in about many of different things. We have some Magical ones on the shelf, there," I pointed to a section on the bookcase behind us.
"Oh," he muttered, nodding to himself, "the boring books."
"I was fascinated with it," I reminisced fondly.
"Should have known your best ever present would have been about books," Ron chuckled, squeezing my hand he was still holding.
"Oh hush!" I told him, drinking my hot chocolate.
"Okay, now what about the worstest ever?" Hugo asked eagerly – that was obviously the story he'd been waiting for.
"Hmm...well, that one wasn't when I was a kid really," Ron started his story. "Although, I admit it did get boring getting a new maroon jumper every year from your Granny!" he laughed and Hugo found it hysterical.
"I like Granny's jumpers!" Rose announced seriously. "They're so warm and she always makes mine pretty and pink."
"Yes, she does," I kissed the top of her head, pleased that our daughter was grateful.
"Anyway, the worst present I can remember getting was, when I was 15, the Christmas just before my 16th birthday. See, this girl I knew then," he went on and I held my breath. For one insane moment I thought he was going to mention that hideous necklace Lavender had bought him. Then I quickly did the maths and realised that didn't happen until the year after. "She bought me this book..."
"Boring!" Hugo interrupted. He hadn't inherited the enjoyment of books quite as much as his sister had, or leant to appreciate them yet.
"Quite," Ron nodded in agreement with our son. "But this wasn't a normal book."
"Was it a talking book? Did it make you do things?" Rose asked, intrigued.
"Kind of," Ron laughed. "See, it was a book you were supposed to write your homework in and plan your revising and things. And whenever you opened it, it nagged you to do your homework, all the time."
"Rubbish!" Hugo announced. "That is really the worstest present ever!"
"Exactly Hugo. And do you know, I never once filled it in," he whispered to the children loudly and they both collapsed in giggles.
"Which girl gave you that bad present dad?" Rose asked, all innocent.
Ron looked up, towards me and gave me a tender smile. "Your Mum."
"Mum!" the pair of them whined and turned to me in disbelief. "What would you...that was terrible!"
"I know, I know," I held up my hands in defence. "But, your Dad and Uncle Harry were terrible with their homework at school, I thought it might help. I don't think they'd have got half of their school work done without my help."
"Face it love, Harry and I would never have gotten through school at all without your help," he smiled and leant over the kids heads to kiss me softly.
"Yuck!" Hugo grumbled, shrinking down in his seat so we didn't touch him.
"Okay, enough soppy kisses!" Rose tried to push us apart. "What was your worst Mum? Something rubbish Dad gave you?" she assumed.
"Actually, no. I can't quite decide between two rather disappointing presents I got when I was about eight or so. I mean, I always appreciated everything people gave me, because I knew I was lucky. But that year I got a football, I think..."
"Footballs are not rubbish!" Hugo indignantly interrupted me. "Grampy Granger gave me one and it's brilliant!" he informed me, hands on his little hips.
"We know you think so, young man," Ron tugged him onto his lap. "But your Mum has never really been into sport much, has she?"
"No," Rose sighed. "She still doesn't really understand Quidditch!" she added with a dramatic roll of the eyes, making Ron laugh.
"Anyway," I interrupted them, "I never used the football, but Dad enjoyed kicking it around the garden a bit as I remember. I think he would've liked a child who was a bit more outdoorsy than I ever was. Probably why he adores you two so much, because you'll play in the garden with him," I smiled at our children.
"Grampy's fun!" Hugo grinned, showing off his two missing teeth.
"He is," I ran my hand over his hair.
"So, what was the other present?" Rose remembered.
"A girls world head," I groaned, remembering the horrid thing vividly – it still gave me the creeps.
"Hold on, did you just say a head?" Ron asked, looking horrified.
"Yes," I nodded. "It was called 'girls world'. It wasn't real, it was like a big dolls head, well it had the neck and shoulders too. You could stand it on a table or something and then you were meant to style the dolls hair and put make-up on it and all that stereotypical girly stuff." I grimaced, making Hugo giggle.
"That sounds gross!" he commented.
"Still, real or not, someone actually gave you a head?" Ron hadn't gotten over that fact.
"It was just plastic and was a popular toy back then," I insisted. "I'm sure lots of girls liked it, but...it wasn't really me."
"No," Ron replied, tilting his head back as though trying to picture the scene. "I can't see you brushing a dolls head and tying pretty little ribbons in it and stuff. Though, I wish Ginny had had one of them, she might have left my hair alone then!" he muttered.
"Aunty Ginny put ribbons in your hair?" Rose turned to look at her dad, completely amused.
Ron groaned, realising he'd let that slip and the kids would latch on to it. "Sometimes," he shrugged. "Usually when she had something she could use to bribe me with. We were the youngest and close in age, so we played together a lot as kids. And, I hated every moment of playing girly stuff with her," he grumbled.
"I'm so asking Granny for photos!" Rose giggled, looking gleeful.
"I've already seen them," I whispered to her as she giggled and the look of horror returned to Ron's face.
"Daddy's a girl, daddy's a girl!" Hugo began chanting.
"Oi! You're supposed to stick up for your dad. Boys together, right?"
Nuh uh," Hugo shook his head. "I bet you looked real silly!" he pointed and laughed.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, love."
"You brought it up," I reminded him.
He sighed. "So, anyway, did you enjoy those stories?" he asked them.
Both children grinned widely. "They was funny. Mum hates footballs and loves boring books. Daddy was a girl and mum gave him rubbish presents!" Hugo paraphrased everything he had just heard into two short sentences.
"Your Mum doesn't always give me rubbish presents. That was the only year. Besides, she's been giving me the best present in the world every day for years now."
"What?" Hugo asked, rather annoyed, thinking he had been missing out on daily presents.
"Her love," he looked towards me, a big smile on his face.
"Aaw," I sighed touched by his sudden burst of over affection. "I love you too," I sighed, falling into his arms as the children scrambled out of the way off the sofa and Ron kissed me.
"Eurgh! Gross!" The pair of them complained, stood to the side and, through giggles, pretending they were going to be sick.
Slowly we backed off from one another, smiling and still with our arms around each other before turning to the children who were making fun of us.
"Right you two," Ron left my side with a kiss to my forehead, "Bedtime!" he began to chase them out of the lounge and up the stairs. "Otherwise Father Christmas won't be coming and you'll have no stories to tell your own kids," he called, making them laugh as they all thudded upstairs together.
I smiled to myself as I cleared away our mugs, I knew he was riling them up, which would make it much harder to settle them, but I found I didn't really care. I was feeling so lucky with my lot, two beautiful, healthy children and an amazing husband I loved a little more every day.
He was right, love really was a gift and I was grateful to have it overflowing in my life.
Hope you liked :) Let me know.
I shall be back in the new year to post more stories already written and hopefully get back to writing as well (been having a dry spell :/ )
Thanks again!