A/N: This oneshot is dedicated to Eighteen Inches as her gift for the Christmas Fic Exchange on HPFC. Because I'm a pro at multitasking, it's also for "jubilant" on the OTP Boot Camp, Astronomy for the School Subjects Competition and the Fanfiction Tournaments Competition, also on HPFC. I hope you enjoy it!

xiv: A Happy Time of Year

Christmas Eve 1998

That year, the inhabitants of the Burrow were getting into the Christmas spirit more than ever before. The smell of baking gingerbread wafted from the kitchen across the whole house, and what looked like most of the tinsel in England covered the walls of every room, along with the occasional sprig of mistletoe. (The charm that glued people's feet to the ground until they'd kissed someone never got old.)

The fire crackled and Christmas carols blared out of the wireless at full volume as the Weasleys and a few select friends were gathered in the sitting room, drinking mulled wine and chattering merrily. So soon after the war, the opportunity to celebrate something was seized with an even greater fervour than usual.

The only person looking subdued was Hermione. She was sitting alone in a corner, shooting the occasional longing glance towards the bookcase. Her glass of wine lay untouched on the table beside her.

"You can read a book if you want, you know," Ron told her amusedly, coming over to talk to her after he'd excused himself from the conversation that was going on at the other side of the room.

"No, no. Don't be silly. It would be antisocial," Hermione muttered, looking startled at being discovered.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Like you're not being antisocial now?" he asked, smirking. "And are you not drinking that?" he added, gesturing towards her wineglass.

"I know... I'm sorry. I'm just tired," Hermione told him, averting his eyes. "And no, I'm not drinking it. I hate the stuff; I only took it to be polite."

"Fine. All the more for me, then," Ron shrugged, picking up her glass and taking a sip. They sat together in silence for a few more moments, isolated from the joy and laughter on the other side of the room, before Ron sighed and spoke again. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me, Hermione."

Hermione feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you mean."

"This, for one thing," he began, pointing towards the wineglass. "You didn't have to take it just for my family's benefit. You've been my best friend for years; just because you're my girlfriend now, it doesn't mean you're suddenly going to offend anyone. And more importantly, you're not telling me what's wrong."

There was a silence between the two once more, and then Hermione met Ron's eyes. "I'm sorry; you just seemed so cheerful and I didn't want to ruin your mood," she said sadly.

"Seeing you upset ruins my mood anyway."

Hermione smiled despite herself. "Well... it's just that this feels weird. Everyone just looks so happy. Even George."

It was true - George had unsurprisingly taken the loss of his twin hard, and that evening there had been genuine smiles on George's face, and his first real attempts to crack jokes since Fred's death. "It's Christmas," Ron said simply. "It's a happy time of year."

"Not always. Harry and I were nearly killed in Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve last year. I don't recall being particularly happy then," she said quietly.

Ron looked over towards where Harry was playing an energetic game of Exploding Snap with Ginny, Percy and Bill. He felt a stab of guilt when Hermione said 'Harry and I'; he'd abandoned them, and they could have died. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said regretfully. "I'm so sorry for leaving. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you two."

Hermione shook her head. "It's okay, Ron - we've talked about this. There's no need to apologise again. And there's nothing you could have done against that snake, anyway."

"I still feel guilty, though. If that's the memory you associate with Christmas... I'd better make up for it and make sure this is the best Christmas we've ever had," he declared. "Anyway, think about some of the happy memories of Christmas - that time Fred and George stuffed a gnome into a fairy dress and stuck it on top of the tree, that time Kreacher gave Harry a parcel full of maggots..."

"...that time Lavender gave Ron a necklace saying 'sweetheart' on it," Harry chimed in as he, Ginny, George, Charlie and Luna came over to join them.

Ron glared at him, but Hermione just laughed. "That really was revolting," Ron said, almost shuddering at the memory.

"So what are you lovebirds doing all cosied up in the corner, eh?" George asked loudly, winking animatedly. "Give 'er a kiss for us, Ronniekins," he said, withdrawing some mistletoe from his pocket and holding it over their heads despite their protests.

Feeling himself going slightly red, Ron hastily pressed his lips to Hermione's, just hoping to do enough to get rid of the charm and dissipate their audience, but once there he found himself not wanting to let go.

There were assorted whoops and cheers and moans of "Get a room!" and when they finally broke apart, Hermione was smiling. Maybe a big family Christmas was exactly what she needed.