** This is a series of drabbles, ficlets and one shots following our dear Fred and Hermione from June of 1995 (shortly before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament) to an as-of-yet undetermined point post-war.**
oOoOoOo
25 December 1995
The residents of Grimmauld Place, both permanent and non, were gathered around the dining table after having returned from St. Mungo's on Christmas Day. They were just eating the roast that was left over from lunch, which had been an admittedly lavish affair, but Mrs. Weasley had also constructed a positively delicious looking trifle for pudding that was chilling in the icebox.
"Don't you get up Molly, I've got it!" Sirius proclaimed, removing his napkin from his lap and quickly making to stand. Mrs. Weasley, who'd had a rather harrowing day arguing with her husband over the barbarity of needlework as a restorative treatment, sank in her seat and smiled gratefully.
Hermione had just excused herself to the restroom as Sirius made his way into the kitchen, shooting Remus a subtle hand signal as he went; this was one of several variables that they had planned for. He hastened to the icebox, removed the glass trifle bowl, uncovered it, grabbed a stack of plates, and then hovered near the counter, lying in wait.
A moment later he heard the toilet in the loo flush down the corridor and called out, "George, can you give me a hand making tea?"
This was the most suspicious bit of their plan by far, because anyone could have come to his aid, but it was the only way to guarantee that the person that got up wasn't Fred. Furthermore, he thought putting either of the younger boys in this position might be a step too far.
"Uh, sure…" came the confused reply, shouted across the hall and through the kitchen door. Sirius held his breath as the bathroom door clicked opened and, sure enough, a second later he heard Hermione's puzzled voice.
"Why can't I move?"
Mentally patting himself on the back, Sirius schooled the mirth from his face and poked his head out of the kitchen. Just as they'd planned, Hermione and George were standing face to face in the doorway of the dining room.
"What on earth -?" Remus started, playing his part expertly and looking around in bafflement. "Sirius?"
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry kids! I forgot that I charmed a few of those to float around earlier when Dung and Moody were here. I thought I got them all, but I must have missed one."
Everyone seemed confused but, in perfect synchronicity, Hermione and George looked up to see a small sprig of mistletoe hovering over their heads. Their faces immediately stretched into identical expressions of horror.
Sirius was gritting his teeth so hard to stop from laughing, his jaw was beginning to ache.
"And, uh, why exactly can't we move?" George asked, though his desolate tone implied that he already knew.
"The mistletoe gods must be sated," Sirius said, shaking his head and doing his best to look somber.
Ron, Ginny and Harry were cackling, Mrs. Weasley made a tired, though mildly amused tutting noise, and Fred looked ill.
"Uh, right." George ducked down and placed a grandmotherly peck on Hermione's cheek while she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling. No luck. They both made to move again and just rocked in place.
"You're going to have to do better than that," Sirius coaxed, a hint of tongue-in-cheek teasing colouring his tone.
"Oh, honestly," Molly chided. Sirius leaned languidly against the doorway to the kitchen across from them, hand wrapped around the base of the trifle bowl and stack of plates resting on his hip.
"Just get it over with," Hermione instructed resignedly, her cheeks deepening to a scarlet.
A muscle in George's neck flexed and he took a deep breath, gave Hermione an apologetic look, and then started to lean in.
Mere seconds before their lips made contact, the mistletoe overhead rather spectacularly burst into bright orange and yellow flames.
"Gah!" Hermione yelped, no longer frozen in place and careening back into the safety of the dining room while George hugged the doorframe like a cat stuck in a tree.
Sirius' jaw dropped, not having anticipated that response in any way. Everyone looked at where the mistletoe had been in bewilderment while the fire burned out as quickly as it had started, a few forlorn wisps of ash floating to the ground.
Fred only seemed to realize what he'd done after the fact, silently and wandlessly to boot, and his eyes widened comically. Remus looked over at him and, a second too late for it to be wholly believable, scrambled to his feet and raised his hand in the direction of the now-destroyed mistletoe as if he'd been the one responsible.
"C'mon Pads," he said with a forced laugh, as everyone turned to him. "It was funny, but leave the kids be."
Harry, Ginny, Ron and Molly bought it easily, none of them having been paying any attention to Remus. Fred looked equal parts relieved and homicidal, and Hermione and George quickly returned to their seats, eyes pointedly directed anywhere but at one another.
Sirius set the trifle bowl and plates on the table, looking once more at where the mistletoe had been. It seemed he had misjudged the situation a wee bit, seeing as he could feel Fred's gaze burning a hole in the side of his face.
"Still need help with the tea?" Remus asked gamely, having remained on his feet.
Sirius nodded and they quickly disappeared into the kitchen as Molly began discussing plans for the remainder of the holiday.
It was dead silent for a moment after the door swung shut behind them.
"I did not expect that," Sirius finally said, setting the kettle on the stove.
"Nuh-uh," Remus intoned, looking a little shell-shocked as he retrieved the tea-tin off a shelf. "But we should add extra wards to the bedroom door tonight."
oOoOoOo
It was nearing eleven and everyone was sitting in the den, surrounding the Christmas tree and fireplace as Celestina Warbeck's voice drifted through the radio in the corner.
Molly had gone to bed, Hermione was curled in an armchair and contentedly reading from a small, leatherbound book, and the boys and Ginny were seated on the hearth, ogling the holiday issue of Seeker Weekly and debating the merits of the new Cleansweep versus the new Comet.
Sirius glanced sideways at Remus on the sofa beside the tree and, for the briefest of seconds, he was seventeen years in the past. It wasn't Harry and Ron and Hermione in front of him. It was James and Lily and Marlene.
"Harry," Sirius interrupted, "have I ever told you about how your father proposed to your mother?"
Harry looked up from across the table and shook his head. Remus chuckled under his breath, having been there himself. Hermione closed her book, and they all turned their attention in his direction.
"Well, he did it on Christmas, you see. He'd been torturing himself over asking her for weeks, going back and forth, convincing himself they were too young and that it wasn't the right time, then backtracking in the opposite direction. He was so distracted, I think Lily was afraid he was about to break things off. I take credit for talking him into it, though."
"What did you say?" Harry asked eagerly. He always looked so enraptured any time he and Moony talked about James and Lily, and it made Sirius' chest ache a little. He made a note to tell him more stories that coming summer, perhaps try to find a few photographs.
"Well," Sirius recalled, "we were out at the pub and I told him that he needed to make a decision and stop tormenting all of us. By all of us, I mostly mean Moony and myself. Things were… well, not all that different than they are now, honestly. Dark. Foreboding. Death Eater attacks were becoming a common occurrence and even the muggles were taking notice. Everything felt impermanent, like it could slip away at any moment, but the two of them… Lily and James had this way of reassuring one another, I guess you could say. She balanced him, and he grounded her. Anyway, I told him how ridiculously rare that was and how completely daft he'd be to risk losing it. That he needed to decide if he was going to commit or carry on as they had been. If he was in or out."
"Well, clearly he decided he was in, right?" Hermione asked, obviously absorbed with her chin propped on her fist.
Remus leaned forward and set his glass on the table, smiling nostalgically and nodding. "The next day he dragged us with him to Gringotts to get his mother's ring out of the vault, then he popped the question that week after Christmas dinner."
He continued telling the story. Told how, given her habit of hexing him, Lily had been disarmed for James' safety that night, but Sirius glanced over at the boys instead, gauging their reactions. Harry was grinning. Ron didn't look terribly interested, having returned his attention to the tabloid. George, being a little older and perhaps a smidge wiser, seemed to appreciate the tale. And Fred… Fred was staring thoughtfully at Hermione.