Chapter 76

Christmas was always a happy time of year for Ron, and despite everything they'd been through in recent months, the Christmas of 2004 was no exception. Work slowed down immensely, and Ron was given three days over the holiday period to just relax. Hermione's office had shut down completely for a week, all cases and Wizengamot hearings suspended, starting Christmas Eve.

This Christmas felt just that little bit more special, though, for it was the first one they'd be having in their own home. Until now, they'd done their best to divide their time equally between their families — sometimes spending the holiday at the Burrow with the ever-growing Weasley clan, and other years enjoying a much more quiet affair with the Grangers.

But this year, all they wanted was to be home. They weren't quite ready — nor did they think the house was large enough — to have Ron's family over, so they'd invited Hermione's parents. In his days off, Ron had spent the last few with his mother, trying to get all of her recipes in order so that they could attempt to cook themselves. It had been a surprisingly pleasant time, though the lingering knowledge about their baby hung between them. He still didn't have it in him to tell her.

He had no assumption that the food would turn out anything like what Molly Weasley managed to put on the table, but she'd been thrilled when he'd asked her, gladly sharing all of her secrets she'd held close for years.

Apparently, no one else had asked her before. Ron had felt a small amount of pride when she'd told him. He didn't know why.

On Christmas morning, however, he somewhat regretted his decisions. It was an overcast day, but not in the way that he thought snow would fall. It was just downright miserable and wet — a disappointment.

It was the first thing Ron noticed when he'd managed to pull the covers off himself and sit up on the edge of the bed. The curtains had been open by Hermione — her way of telling him he needed to get up.

"Merry Christmas," she said, crawling across to his side and wrapping her arms around him from behind.

Ron gave a grunt of appreciation at her closeness and stifled a yawn. "Merry Christmas," he said. "What time is it?"

Hermione reached to his nightstand and picked up his watch, handing it to him.

"Way too early for Christmas," he said, tossing his watch onto the bed and turning around to face Hermione.

"Not if you want to make today great," Hermione said, sounding like she'd been up for hours. Typical of her, really. "I know on our Christmases, Mum and Dad always got up early to start all the food preparation."

"Ah," Ron said, reaching to his nightstand and picking up his wand, "but did they have one of these?"

"No, but they had an oven and a microwave, which is exactly what we have." Hermione sounded amused more than anything.

"And a wand," Ron insisted. "It cuts away half the time, because I can set things to prepare themselves while I focus on the other things."

"Alright, that's fair," Hermione conceded. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

"Does that give us time to stay here a little bit longer then?" Ron asked, drawing her closer to him. "You know, it's Christmas and all."

He almost expected Hermione to turn him down, insisting that there were things that needed to be done, and not to mention that this side of their relationship hadn't been entirely 'normal' for a few months now. But instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drew him into a deep kiss, and then pulled him back down onto the bed.

Ron smiled, his lips against her mouth. He really loved Christmas, but even more so now that he got to spend every one with her.

…

An hour later, they were both finally out of bed. Hermione had showered and dressed for the day, but Ron was still in his pyjamas with a mug of coffee in his hand. The morning was cold, even with the Muggle heating system going at full intensity, and he would have much rathered been in bed still.

It was Christmas.

In the corner of the living room, near where he sat, stood their little Christmas tree. They'd bought it their first Christmas of living together in their flat, so it was small and compact. They had the space to get a much bigger one now, but they both enjoyed the memories this one held.

It was immaculately decorated — Hermione's doing — with a handful of gifts sitting under it.

When Hermione joined him, curling up beside him, he said, "Do you want your present now?"

"We should wait for Mum and Dad to get here. So it really feels like Christmas."

"But you'll like what I got you this year," Ron said. "I like what I got you."

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure it's lovely. But we should wait."

Ron gave a soft chuckle. "Always the rule follower," he said, and he took another sip from his coffee.

Hermione laughed. "How many years have you known me? How many times have I not followed the rules? I just like keeping tradition, that's all."

"Yeah, yeah."

"We should really get started on the food," Hermione then said. "I'm going to get Mum and Dad at ten-thirty, and the food should be ready by twelve."

"I'll get them," Ron said. "Your parents, I mean. If you want."

Hermione looked at him questioningly.

"What?" Ron said. "I like your parents. I'll get them, bring them back here. They've travelled with me via Floo before, but never you. So it makes sense. You know it makes them nervous."

"But they're my parents," Hermione said, looking amused.

Ron shrugged.

"But if you want," she conceded after a moment.

"I do," Ron said cheerfully.

"I'll call them to let them know you're coming instead." Hermione left the living room and Ron could hear her dialling the phone with the only number he ever bothered to learn.

While she was gone, Ron sipped at his coffee until it was almost empty. When she returned, she rejoined him on the sofa and smiled, amused. "They're looking forward to you coming to get them," she said. "Mum even sounded a bit relieved."

"See," Ron said with a smirk. "It's because they know I can get them here safely. I have once before, so they know I can do it again. So, you want to get started on this lunch we're doing?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Especially because it's our first time — we might need the extra time to go to the supermarket again and get anything we get wrong."

"Mum's recipes are quite detailed." Ron drained his coffee and stood up, pulling Hermione by the hand to join him. "And she's shown me everything." He kissed her, just because he could. And it was Christmas, and Christmas was supposed to be filled with love and laughter and he loved Hermione more than anything.

"You're in a perky mood," Hermione observed as they headed for the kitchen. "All loving and… smug… and… are you okay?"

"I'm happy and you're asking if I'm okay?" Ron said. "What's not to be happy about? I'm not working, you're not working, we get to spend a nice day in peace and quiet — no Victoire or Dominique causing havoc, no Percy and Audrey acting all smug as their child doesn't cause destruction, ignoring the fact that she's younger by a few years. None of George's lame jokes, or Ginny moaning about not being able to play Quidditch…"

"You love all that," Hermione said knowingly. "I know you do."

"Yeah, I do. It's great, but… sometimes it's just nice when we have a break, you know? Maybe I'm getting old."

"Maybe you are," Hermione teased. "Am I now married to an old man? Is that what you're saying?"

"Hm, maybe you'll need to upgrade to a newer husband one day."

Hermione opened the refrigerator and began summoning ingredients they'd bought a few days ago with her wand. With her head buried inside, Ron heard her say, "I'm quite happy with the one I've got, thanks."

Ron smirked. "Maybe one day you'll think differently."

"I highly doubt it." Hermione reappeared from within the fridge, waving her wand so the ingredients all made it safely onto the kitchen bench. Then she closed the door of the refrigerator and looked at Ron. "I'm not sure I could find anyone better."

Ron was silent for a moment, watching her and beaming. Then he said, laughing, "Very true." He shrugged. "I suppose you're stuck with me forever."

"Gladly."

They smiled at each other again, and then Hermione nodded towards the food items sitting on the kitchen bench, telling him they should start.

Ron took out his wand and some utensils, charming them one at a time to get started on the preparation. He was used to cooking dinners at night for him and Hermione, occasionally for Harry and Ginny as well, but this felt bigger. Hermione had somehow convinced him that it was bigger. She wanted to impress her parents, or something, which he thought was ridiculous. They weren't the type of people to care about the food. He was pretty sure they just enjoyed spending time with their only daughter (and subsequently her husband). He doubted they cared how or where.

As he prepped the vegetables, he couldn't help but smile to himself at their banter. It didn't happen often; Hermione was usually too busy or too stressed about something to join in. Her mind was generally elsewhere — a case she was working on, or something someone had asked her to do — for her to take this much time in actually joking with Ron. But he enjoyed it. It made him feel good, and it meant she was relaxed enough to engage.

She really needed to relax more often, but he knew if he tried telling her that, she'd ignore him.

Within the hour, they had everything chopped and ready to go in the oven. It was fifteen minutes before ten-thirty.

"You reckon your parents will care if I'm a little early?" Ron asked, glancing down at his wrist watch. The Grangers were always on time to places, or early. Never late — just like Hermione.

"They're probably ready," Hermione conceded. "Ron… are you sure you want to go?"

"Yeah, of course!" Ron said. "I don't mind." He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in a few moments, parents here safe and sound."

She nodded, and he could sense her eyes on him, her brain ticking over as to why he had insisted on picking up her parents. The truth was, Ron didn't want her to stress anymore than she needed to. She was in a good mood, she was relaxed, and it was what she needed right now.

It had been a shit end of the year for both of them and the last thing he wanted was her overdoing herself. He knew she was okay, he knew she was capable of doing everything that she had done at the start of the year. But it was Christmas, and he wanted her to enjoy it. He wanted it to be the best Christmas she'd ever had. In Ron's eyes, that meant her doing the bare minimum amount of work.

He Floo'd to the Granger's place in London, not at all surprised to see Robert and Jane waiting in their living room for him to come. They'd become used to watching Ron and Hermione step out of fireplaces, regardless of whether they particularly enjoyed it. In fact, Ron was fairly impressed with how they handled all things magic. Entirely different to how Harry had described his aunt and uncle's thoughts on the subject, from what Ron could gather.

"Hi, Ron," Jane said kindly. "Merry Christmas." She bent and picked up a bag of gifts.

Robert gave Ron a nod of acknowledgement and then eyed the fireplace warily.

"Er, maybe you should go first?" Ron suggested. He remembered last time, when he'd brought them here after desperately appealing to them about Hermione's denial, Robert had felt rather ill after the experience. "Hermione will be on the other side."

"Yes, I'm sure she will," Robert muttered, coming to stand by the fireplace. "So, you just throw that powder —"

"Floo powder," Ron said, picking up the small bowl sitting on the mantelpiece and throwing a handful into the unlit fireplace. It roared to life with green flames.

"I'm going to be honest," Robert said, eyeing the flames suspiciously, "I wanted to drive, but Jane and Hermione insisted…"

"You get used to it," Ron assured him, smiling slightly. Robert had never struck Ron as someone to be afraid of something that felt so natural to Ron. Then again, he still had an irrational fear of spiders that he could not get past no matter how hard he tried.

"Easy for you to say," Robert said. "You've probably been doing this since before you could walk."

That was an accurate assessment, Ron had to admit. He indicated the flames.

"Even if I could tell anyone, no one would believe me," Robert said. "Walking into fire…" Despite his grumblings, he stepped into the fireplace and was gone within seconds.

The flames remained green as Jane approached. "Don't mind him, Ron," she said, smiling. "He was rather unwell over it last time. When you brought us back he was throwing up all evening."

"It does get better," Ron insisted. "The more practice you get."

"I must admit, your ways are far more convenient than ours," Jane said. "Get to a place in a matter of seconds, rather than a two hour drive…"

"Yeah, well, hopefully we can use it more frequently," Ron said. "Especially in the future. We'll be asking you to babysit your grandchildren… er… whenever that happens."

Jane smiled sympathetically. "We'll be delighted to do that when the time comes," she said. "You both still have plenty of time — as hard as that is to see at the moment."

"No, we can see it," Ron said, not sure why he had brought the topic up to begin with. He was doing his best to move forward, and despite he and Hermione deciding to keep trying to have a baby, their plan was to not discuss it without a reason. "We'll get there. Just not the right time, you know." He indicated the dwindling green flames and tossed some more Floo powder in.

With much less hesitation than her husband, Jane stepped in and vanished. Ron followed her a moment later, stepping out to find Hermione's father sitting on the sofa looking very grey, and Jane setting the gifts under the Christmas tree.

Hermione came in a moment later with a glass of water and offered it to Robert.

"It does get easier, Dad," she said. "The more practice you get, it'll feel better."

Robert gave a grunt to say he'd heard, but the look on his face as he accepted the glass of water from Hermione said he didn't believe her.

Ron cleaned himself of soot and joined the others in the living room.

"We might drive the next time," Jane said, sounding amused. In comparison to her husband's ashen face, she looked the peak of health.

"Yes, well, once upon a time ago, you wouldn't have even been allowed to use it," Hermione said. "But new laws and everything makes it accessible under some circumstances."

"I believe the term Percy used was essential reasons," Ron said. "Which Christmas is… not."

"Yes, well, they're not going to reprimand us, are they?" Hermione replied with slightly flushed cheeks.

"So we're doing things illegally around here?" Robert groaned, rubbing his temples. "I thought we raised you better than that, Hermione."

Hermione's face went a deeper red and Ron laughed out loud.

"She's right, though," he said. "In the Ministry's eyes, we're war heroes. They turn a blind eye to that kind of thing with us."

"If we don't do it too often," Hermione added quickly. "Not to mention, Ron's brother is in charge of all that stuff. Anyway, food is in the oven and should be ready by midday. Would you like anything to drink? Mum?"

"Whatever you have, Hermione," Jane said.

"I bought some sort of expensive wine," Hermione said. "Will that do? Ron?"

Ron nodded, though not enthusiastically. He still didn't have a high opinion on Muggle wines, still much preferring the goblin-made stuff, but he could drink it if he had to.

Hermione disappeared from the living room, Ron seeing her pull her wand out from her pocket as she left.

"It's been a few months since we last saw you both," Jane said after a moment. "How are things going? How are you two going?"

It sounded like a simple question, but Ron understood what she meant.

"Yeah, good," he said truthfully. "She's a lot better now. Pretty much herself."

"And you, Ron. How are you going?"

Ron looked to Robert, who seemed to have some of his colour returning to his face. Hermione's dad was wearing that now all too familiar expression where Ron wasn't sure if he was angry or amused.

"I'm good," Ron said. "Really, I am. Things are good now. We're… dealing with it. Positively."

Jane and Robert both smiled as Hermione returned, levitating the drinks ahead of her.

"Good to hear," Jane said quietly.

Hermione set the drinks on the coffee table and then passed them out. Ron watched her with intrigue, briefly wondering if she was being so active because she knew her parents would ask exactly what they had just asked Ron. But she seemed to be genuinely enjoying hosting.

This was a side to her he rarely saw, and he liked it.

Their conversation briefly drifted to other things — how work was going, it was supposed to snow in a few days, and Hermione's parents inquiring into Harry and Ginny and how far away Ginny was from having the baby.

Before he realised, Ron had drunk the whole glass of wine and was surprised to find he'd rather enjoyed it. He had one of his arms around Hermione and she was leaning against him.

Relaxed.

"This isn't a bad one," he said to Hermione.

"Yes, well, it wasn't cheap," Hermione replied. "A once off." She looked to her parents. "We have a gift for both of you if you'd like it now."

"Hermione, dear, you really didn't have to," Jane said. "You know you don't."

Ron smiled. Standard answer, but everyone really liked gifts. Why lie, he thought?

"Of course we did, Mum," Hermione said, and she got up, placing her near empty glass on the coffee table. She went to the Christmas tree and picked up one of the three presents that had been sitting there before Hermione's parents had arrived. She brought it over to them, beaming.

"Merry Christmas," she said. She returned to her spot beside Ron as they began opening the gift.

The pretence of not wishing to receive anything left Robert almost immediately as the wrapping fell off.

She'd bought them from Diagon Alley one Saturday in November. They had been there for something else, but she'd just stopped out the front of a shop window, almost dislocating Ron's arm from his body because he hadn't been expecting it.

"What?" he'd asked, coming to stand beside her.

"See those wine glasses?" she'd asked, pointing to two sparkling glasses in the window.

"Goblin-Made, Self-Cleaning SparkleGlass," Ron read. "Sounds interesting. But do we need them?"

"No, but Mum and Dad might. For Christmas," Hermione said.

"Fifteen Galleons for the set," Ron reasoned. "Not too bad."

"Should I get them?"

"Yeah, sure."

And she was in the shop before he had the chance to change his mind.

"You never have to wash them," Hermione said proudly. "They're goblin-made, they clean themselves, and they never break. No matter what."

"You know, Hermione," Robert said admiring one of the glasses in his hand, "I think you think we like our wine more than we should…"

Hermione went pink. Ron smirked.

"No, I don't think… I just don't know what else to get you sometimes…"

"They're lovely, Hermione," Jane said kindly, giving Robert a reprimanding look. "Thank you."

"Honestly, it's wonderful," Robert agreed, setting the glass back in its box. "I was only joking. You know me… we have something for you kids, too. Of course. It's a big one this year."

"Don't give it away," Jane said, though she smiled, and it piqued Ron's interest. He still very much appreciated their gift of a television a few Christmases back and he didn't know if it could get any bigger than that.

And it wasn't. Not literally, at least. Jane passed them an envelope which Ron could only assume contained a card.

"Like you, it's difficult as you get older. But we hope this will help with any future plans the pair of you have."

Hermione opened the envelope and then the card, which contained a single piece of decorated paper. It made very little sense to Ron, but it seemed to mean something to Hermione, for she closed it quickly and gaped at her parents.

"What?" Ron said. "What is it?"

Still staring at her parents, Hermione passed the card to Ron, who opened it. There was a five-digit number written on the piece of paper, which Ron knew would have to be money of some kind, and the card read:

Use this to contribute to the mortgage on your house. We hope it helps.

Love, Mum and Dad (Robert and Jane).

"Er… thanks," Ron said after a moment when Hermione didn't speak. He looked at her. "This is nice."

"It's too much," Hermione whispered. "It's…"

"A good chunk out of a debt that will last you a lifetime," Robert said. "We know you both earn good money with your jobs and that you're managing fine. But… this just frees you up a little more. Maybe you can go out for dinner a few extra nights a month, go on a holiday instead of giving it to the bank."

"Without bringing up difficult memories," Jane added, "we know you've both been struggling the last few months, so we just thought by giving you this… it would help."

"Thanks," Ron said again, not at all understanding Hermione's astonishment at the gift. She knew her parents had more money than they knew what to do with. They'd gifted them some to get the house to begin with, and now they were gifting even more to help pay it off. Robert had been right — owning a house in the Muggle world was a monstrous debt that Ron preferred not to think about when he could help it. It was a much cheaper expenditure in wizarding society.

Her parents smiled, but Hermione still said nothing. They all sat there for a moment, Ron beginning to wonder if she was actually upset with them, because she liked to do things on her own — prove she was capable of things. She frequently criticised people like Draco Malfoy, who'd had most things handed to him growing up and didn't seem to know how to do things for himself.

But then she stood up and engulfed her mum in a tight hug.

Ron smiled, chancing a glance at Robert, who nodded at him.

Hermione hugged her father, too, and then finally thanked them, but still insisting that it was still too much money to give them. But she didn't look set to give it back, which Ron was grateful for.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron and Hermione went into the kitchen to check on the food.

"That was nice of your parents," Ron said, trying to sound casual. "With the money."

"You understand enough now, Ron, to know how much it is," Hermione said, opening the oven, checking on the vegetables and then closing it again.

"Yeah, I know it's enough that we'll be making very minimal contributions from here on in."

She nodded.

"You seem upset," Ron observed.

"Not upset, just… shocked. That's all."

"It'll help us a lot," Ron said. "You know it will."

"Yeah, I know, but it just seems so… not real. And I've always thought that it would be something we work together in paying off, you know. Especially because they already helped us out at the start. I just thought —"

"Well, the benefits of being an only child, huh," Ron said. "They have no one else to give presents like that to. No one else to share it with."

Hermione smiled slightly and looked at him.

"It's still our house, Hermione. We've still contributed to it. We've made it our own. It belongs to us and it will belong to us for as long as we want. They just want to help."

"I know, and I appreciate it. It just took me by surprise, that's all."

"Well, now we can take up your dad's suggestion of a holiday, yeah?" Ron said. "Where do you want to go? Paris? Berlin?"

"Ha!" Hermione said. "Maybe one day…" She stopped, thoughtful for a moment. Then a smile broke out on her face. "This will be really good for us."

"Obviously."

"Lunch is almost ready. This Christmas has just gotten a lot better."

Ron leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "It's definitely been my favourite so far. So much to love about this Christmas. And I love you the most."

Thank you all for your encouragement! I feel as if I've slowed down in my writing a bit and am gradually catching up! I hope to be able to pick up speed soon.

Next week, there will be no entry. I will be away all week and I will not be taking my laptop with me, so I'll see you in two weeks for the next update!