-- Kayli ---

Well, how to answer THAT, now.

"Um," I say, very intelligently, and look at everyone else for help.

Ron and Harry are staring very intently at their plates, Hermione is engrossed in her book, Ginny is staring at me with wide eyes, and Fred and George look at each other, look back at me, and shrug. Elladan and Elrohir are looking back and forth between me and Mrs. Weasley like spectators at a tennis match. Legolas and Gimli are still deeply involved in conversation, and Thranduil is watching me with an amused expression.

"Um," I say again. "I'm a bit of a...guardian, I supposed you could say."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widen. "Really, now," she says, still cheerfully. She frowns, switching moods faster than Galadriel. "I understand that you're teaching a physical defense class." She turns and glares at Ron. "Ronald told me it was dueling club."

"It kind of is," I respond. My hands are sweating. God, she reminds me of MY mother. She has that...Mom vibe. "They do have opponents, but we have a different kind of dueling in my world." I rake a hand through my hair. "They're currently using wooden weapons. I don't quite trust these kids with edged weapons."

She smooths her hair. "Well, I'm not to sure how useful this skill you're teaching could be, but, well, if they want to learn..." She trails off, sighs, and shrugs. "I suppose it can't hurt. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Harry leans over and whispers in my ear. "If you don't trust us with edged weapons, how come you gave us swords?"

"I trust YOU," I whisper back. "And I trust Ron, but am I seriously suppose to trust Nott or Goyle? I don't think so." I glare at him. "And don't you dare bring those to class, buster."

He grins. "Yes, ma'am."

Mr. Weasley leans around his wife. "So..." he says, and smiles. He really does have a sweet smile. "You're a Muggle?"

I grin. "Yeah, I'm a Muggle."

"And your companions, they are, too?"

I laugh and shake my head. "No, sir. They're...something else."

He blinks at me. "Like what?"

I look at Thranduil, who's watching with an amused expression. "We're Elves," he replies. "I don't think you have anything like us in this world."

Both Weasley parents just stare at him for a moment, then turn and look at each other. "House-Elves?" Mrs. Weasley says.

Thranduil frowns. "What?"

I shake my head. "I've never heard of them, sorry. But no, they're not House-Elves. What the hell's a House-Elf?"

"They're household slaves," Hermione says darkly. "Usually poorly treated, with no pay, and no time off, and they don't even get VACATION." She whips out a file folder from inside her robes and starts reeling off statistics. "Hogwarts has the highest House-Elf population in Britain, and they ARE slightly better treated than the House-Elves elsewhere, but the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare --"

"Spew," Ron mutters.

"Hermione," I say, trying to not sound mean, "shut up, okay? We don't care. We're not from around here."

"Well, that's definitely not us," Elladan said drily.

Now Mr. Weasley looks more and more curious. "Well, then what IS an Elf?" he asks. "I mean, obviously you gentlemen are, but what makes Elves so different from humans?"

Legolas and Thranduil exchange a glance. Then Thranduil sighs, and leans forward, and starts to explain.

I know all this, so I tune it out, and turn back to the looking around the table. Fred and George are deep in conversation with Remus -- I wonder when he got here? -- and Hermione looks like she's pouting a little. Elladan and Elrohir are occassionally interjecting something into teh conversation with Legolas and Thranduil and the Weasleys.

Eventually, we escape breakfast, with promises to Dumbledore that we're going to come back down for the dinner. The whole big group thing. We all go our seperate ways, laughing and joking, until we hear a cry of "Wait!"

We all turn back around, and look at Hermione, who points up, smiling dreamily. "Mistletoe!"

Thranduil glances around. First he looks at Gimli, and an expression of revulsion crosses his face. The Dwarf takes two big steps back. "Don't even think about it, ye poncy Elvish bastard!" Thranduil laughs, shakes his head, and bends down to press a kiss to Ginny's cheek. "There," he says drily, "my requirements are fulfilled."

Hermione looks at Ginny and laughs. The younger girl is blushing so furiously she nearly matches her hair. "We're outnumbered!"

Just then, poor Professor MacGonagall steps into the doorway. Elladan and Elrohir exchange a glance, grin, and then Elrohir -- ELROHIR -- steps forward, sweeps the poor, unsuspecting Professor into a dip, and kisses both of her cheeks, then sweeps her back up to her feet, steps back and bows. "A trifle for the fair lady," he says.

Fred and George are both staring at him with their mouths open. They NEVER would have been brave enough to try that.

"What on EARTH -- " the Professor says.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all point up and say "Mistletoe" at the exact same moment.

She straightens her robes and glares at Elrohir.

Mr. Weasley laughs and steals a kiss from his wife. "There!" he says. "The rest of you on your own."

Legolas leans down and kisses me quickly. "There," he says, and shoots a glare at the others. "Try it," he invites, his tone saying 'I dare you.'

Harry laughs. "Not likely," he says, then quickly kisses Hermione's cheek, then Ginny's, and then leans over and kisses Mrs. Weasey's for good measure. Then, grinning from ear to ear, he steps forward and kisses MacGonagall's too. "For the fair lady," he says, and bows.

Elladan laughs. "Lad's learning!"

Fred and George step forward, each wrapping an arm around their mother's shoulders before leaning in and kissing her cheeks, perfectly in sync. "For the OTHER fair lady," George says.

"Fairest lady in our lives," Fred adds.

Mrs. Weasley blushes and kisses them both. There are actually tears in her eyes.

Everyone turns around and stares at Ron. He blushes, stares at his shoes, and steals a glance at Hermione, before he ducks in and gives her a peck -- right on the lips. "There," he mutters. "Happy?"

Hermione is blushing furiously.

I roll my eyes. "Are we all done acting like little kids under the mistletoe?"

"Elladan?" Elrohir says.

Elladan widens his eyes at his brother.

MacGonagal plants her hands on her hips and glares at him. "If he can dare the dragon's lair, so can you," she says severely.

"Hoping for a kiss from both of us," 'Dan sighs, then leans over and pecks her cheek. "There, fair lady, a kiss for you." He turns and kisses Ginny's cheek. "And for this one. Two Elves in one day, what a lucky girl."

Ginny giggles and pokes him in the stomach.

I grin and lean against Legolas.

Happy Christmas, indeed.

-- Hermione --

He kissed me! Ron actually KISSED ME!

Gah.

I'm so happy I practically DANCE into my dorm room. Lavender and Parvati are gone for Christmas, and I have the whole place to myself, thank goodness. That way no way sees me do my ecstatic little dance through the middle of the room.

I plop down on the side of my bed and grin like a fool.

I'm allowed to be a little girly ONCE in awhile, after all. Ron might not have realized that in fourth year, but maybe he knows it now.

Perhaps I should dress up a little for our special Christmas tonight. Maybe wear a dress, and makeup, and fix up my hair...and oh, who am I KIDDING? I want Ron to like me for ME, not for who I can pretend I am, and I'm very good at pretending. I used to read BEFORE I came to Hogwarts, too, you know, and I spent a great deal of time in fantasy lands.

Some of it in Middle-Earth, now that I think about it.

That brings a thought to me. Kayli! Kayli's got a husband, and she MUST know how to attract a guy. I sit down in front of the mirror -- I don't get to use it very much, usually, Lavender and Parvati hog all the mirror-time -- and start to brush my hair, looking thoughtfully at my reflection.

Then I slam the brush down on the table, put my head in my hands, and think for a minute. That would be nice, I think. To actually be a girl for once, a really smart girl who also happens to be pretty, instead of one of the guys.

Not that I'm pretty, but still.

Yes, Kayli is a good idea.

I practically run up to the sixth floor. I stop, shift nervously from foot-to-foot, then gather up my courage and knock on the door. I hear someone yell "Just a moment!" -- Legolas, I think -- and then a quick burst of laughter. And then Legolas pulls open the door. And I forget to breathe for a moment.

Oh, my.

His hair is all loose, and his shirt is open at the collar. I clear my throat and manage to smile, though I imagine my face is positively BEET red by now. "Is Kayli here?"

He nods. "Aye, doing --" he gestures back towards the bedroom of the apartment. "Something feminine, I think. Kayli, you have a visitor!" He gestures me in and closes the door behind him.

Kayli comes out of the bedroom, and she looks lovely. She's wearing a long dress, pale green. It's sleeveless, with wide straps, and a skirt that's full and sort of flouncy. She looks beautiful, and you can tell Legolas thinks so, too, just by the way he's leaning back against the door and smiling at her.

She grins at me, this full-blown, happy, it's-Christmas-and-I'm-in-love smile. "Hermione. Hi. What' s up?"

I smile. "You look great."

She smiles that smile again, sweet and girlish for a girl who's fought in all these huge battles, and come out not only alive but on the winning team. Sweet and girlish for someone who can take down Orcs with nothing but a couple of kitchen knives, basically. She does a little spin in the middle of the room, her hair flying out behind her. "Really?"

"Oh, so you'll take her word for it, but not your own husband's?" Legolas asks drily.

She walks over to him and pokes a finger into his chest. "You, my love," she says, "are biased."

"Very," he agrees readily enough, and kisses her.

She laughs and snuggles into him in a way that is so adorable I practically turn to goo. I've always been a schmuck for romance novels. "Did you need something, hon?" she asks me.

I blush again, and one of her eyebrows goes up. It always irritates her when Legolas gives her that look, but I don't think she even knows she's picked it up. She pulls away from him and makes a shooing gesture towards the door. "You. Out. GIrl talk."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll just go talk to father. About absolutely nothing. While you girls...chat."

She kisses his cheek. "Good boy."

He makes a face at her and ducks out the door.

"God," I say, "you two are ADORABLE."

Kayli laughs again and plops down on the sofa, tucking her bare feet up under her skirt. "Maybe," she says. "What do you need?"

I stare at my shoes for a minute, formulating a reply. Usually I'm good with words, but on this subject I always get tongue-tied. "Well," I manage eventually, "I was just wondering if maybe, you could, you know, help me out a little."

She blinks at me, then sighs and closes her eyes. "Oh, God, this is one of the REALLY girly things, isn't it? Man, I wish Iariel were here. She's so much better at this than I am. Or Edana, Arwen, Eowyn, hell, even GALADRIEL is a better choice than me." She tucks her hair behind her ears and frowns at me. "Are we just talking clothes here, or are we talking makeup and hair and the whole nine yards?"

I make a gesture. "The whole thing."

She grins. "All right," she says, and stands up. "Let's do this."

-- Legolas --

This is a part of Kayli that is rarely seen. The more...well, feminine part of her, I suppose. The part that actually ENJOYS the machinations of being female, of doing...whatever it is that women do to make themselves beautiful, not just to the males of whatever species, but to make themselves beautiful to themselves.

It's an odd thing, the female mind. I don't think there's a male creature in ANY world that understands the workings of the female mind. She is currently involved in fighting the...hedge on Hermione's head into behaving the way it's supposed to. She's somehow managed to tame it into a mass of ringlets that actually looks rather nice. And the girl is wearing a dark blue dress, and doesn't look anything like the scholar I see every day.

Ron is about to have the shock of his young life.

Kayli finally nudges Hermione around so the girl can take a look at herself in the mirror. And her jaw drops. Behind her, Kayli grins triumphantly. "Not bad, eh?"

Hermione squeals, spins around, and hugs Kayli so hard I swear she's going to crack my wife's ribs. Kayli, however, just laughs and hugs her back. "Come on, beautiful," she says, and wraps an arm around Hermione's shoulders, "let's go down to dinner."

This Hall is as strange as I have seen it in my time here, if not stranger. The ceiling seems to be snowing, a gentle fall that lands and disappears. There are at least ten brightly decorated trees in the hall. Everyone is brightly dressed. Harry and Ron are both wearing their bright Weasley sweaters, Elladan and Elrohir are dressed in new robes, as is my father. Even Dumbledore appears especially bright tonight. Snape, however, is once again dressed in head to toe black.

He's depressing to even look at.

Very soon, we're sitting down, absolute stuffing ourselves on food that is excellently prepared. Ron's parents have utterly given up on engaging him in conversation, as they have to say his name twice to even get his attention, and then he jumps like someone hit him, and three words later he's back to staring at Hermione, looking like someone just caught up the side of the head.

Fred and George are currently doing a design on the top of his head with vegetables. Elladan and Elrohir are writing something in Elvish on his back with sauces. Both of his parents are very resolutely ignoring this. Dumbledore seems to be amused by it all. Snape sneers at them every once in awhile, but seems to be under the impression that Ron deserves what he gets, simply for being Harry's friend. The old bat with all the shawls is completely oblivious, and Professor MacGonagall is overlooking it all with a disapproving expression, although it's offset by the fact that her lips keep twitching. And father simply shook his head and returned to his conversation with Gimli.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my father would have such rapport with my Dwarven friend.

I lean back in my seat and run my fingers through Kayli's hair. Without losing the beat of her conversation with Hermione, she reaches out and clasps my other hand. I smile slightly and bring it to my lips.

I just sit there, my hand on wife's hair, content to listen for now. Still without missing a beat of her conversation -- the older Weasley boy has joined in, the one they call Charlie -- she begins gathering the holly boughs decorating the table and weaving them together. In a few minutes, she has a crown in her hands. Grinning from ear to ear, she stands, leans over, and places it on my father's head. "There," she says, "your crown, Majesty."

He bows his head politely, then straightens it almost absently. Unless my memory decieves, he has one almost exactly like it at home -- except crafted my Eriadhras. "Thank you, daughter," he says, then leans forward and kisses her cheek.

It warms my heart to see them so at ease with each other.

Perhaps all this has a purpose after all, perhaps we weren't just brought here by blind luck. And although I know I could never be at home here, and nor could Kayli, no matter how comfortable she is around these people, we will both miss them when we return to our world.

But, perhaps between now and then, we will get to have an adventure or two, yes? I maybe old by human reckoning, but I thrive on such things, as do Kayli and the Dwarf. Perhaps we will return to Middle-Earth with tales that will shock our brothers and Aragorn into silence.

I think that alone would be worth it.

TBC...