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Christmas Tradition Interrupted by JustSuper
Chapter 1 : He needs a good snog!
 
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In his argument with Ginny about snogging Ron defence is interesting.

 ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about! Ron roared. ‘Just because I don’t do it in public -!’ (Half Blood Prince: page 271: UK edition.) Therefore, I think that Ron has loads of kissing experience... Just not in public, with the only person that ever truly mattered to him: Hermione!

The following COULD have taken happen during Order of the Phoenix between The Eye of the Snake and Christmas on the Closed Ward (UK edition pages 402 – 440). Enjoy.

 

 







Christmas Tradition Interrupted

After the final DA meeting of term Hermione and Ron couldn’t help but smile. They kept throwing each other amused looks: which was a change in how they had spent the day. Since lunchtime, they’d been dreading this evening. Ever since Angelina had told them Harry was being replaced by Ginny as seeker.

As they’d walked in Angelina had been speaking to Harry. Later, she’d informed them that even though he looked like he was going to retort – he didn’t.

When the meeting started Harry’s mood instantly improved. Teaching agreed with him, but this fact wasn’t what was making them smile. It was the fact that they were walking alone down the corridor because Harry had hung back to say a private ‘Merry Christmas’ to Cho Chang.

“I reckon he’s going to snog her” Ron said triumphantly. “He needs a good snog. He’ll feel better for it.”

“Ron do you have to make it sound so crass” she implored. “He needs a meaningful relationship – other than us. To feel cared for and even to have some human contact...” Ron nudged her and wiggled his eyebrows. They both started to laugh and it felt suddenly very easy for them.

“Moine, you know what I mean!” he said looking around to make sure they were alone before slinging his arm over her shoulder. As he did he tried not to blush and Hermione gave a little giggle.

“You always get so... affectionate around Christmas time” she sighed happily. “But this year you’re a week early.”

“Can you blame me?” he exclaimed. “You’re leaving me to go down mountains on narrow pieces of wood – instead of Christmas at the Burrow with me...” he pouted before adding. “And everyone else of course!” Then, he caught her off guard by stopping them and saying with a cheeky grin. “But I’m most upset that we won’t get our usual Christmas...”

“Don’t you dare use that word Ronald – if it’s crass for Harry and Cho it’s even more so for us...” she said throwing him a meaningful look.

“Our Christmas tradition is more than that!” he whispered squeezing her closer.

“Certainly it is. And it’s hardly a tradition Ron... It’s only happened twice.”

“I know that but if we did it this Christmas then it would be a tradition. And I promise not to mess it up this year.” He muttered. “Our pets aren’t warring...There isn’t even an international quidditch star to...” he trailed off not wanting to ruin the mood.

They were silent for awhile walking down the corridor. The silence was comfortable – the kind they’d been sharing since becoming prefects. The only different was he had his arm around her. Finally, it was Hermione that broke the silence – in the smallest of voices.

“Ron, I’ve hardly seen my parents since the beginning of third year.” He was about to say ‘so’ when she continued. “My parents have only seen me for three weeks: which is why we’re getting away... out of the country... Away from dementors and Death Eaters and... Harry’s mood swings.”

“But...” he said looking her in the eyes with bare desperation.

“No buts Ron.” She said still in that small voice. “I need to spend time with them. How long will it be until I can again? Besides you need time with your family too... Just think” she said more brightly than she felt. “Christmas at the Burrow, family all around...”

“Ok Ok... let’s get over the fight part of the evening.” He said in a resigned way. “I know you need this time – but really how can I have a family Christmas without you there...” he said in an innocent voice.

“Smooth Weasley... Very smooth...” She smiled.

“What can I say tonight has been an awesome night. Harry didn’t melt a cauldron about Ginny replacing him. Neville’s improving... and... Harry is probably in the throes of passion as we speak.” He said with a wicked smile. Suddenly, Hermione had a smile on her face too.

“Our best friend wouldn’t know what a throe of passion if he caught us at it in a romantic setting” she joked: before realising what she’d said. They both started to blush. She quickly changed the topic when she noticed his red ears. “Would you like to make it interesting?” she asked slowly.

“You want to bet on the outcome of Harry’s love life..?” he exclaimed in mocked shock.

“Absolutely! He’s bet on ours” she justified.

“True” he grinned. “What are the stakes?”

“If Harry does get kissed by Cho – like you think. We’ll kiss before the end of term” she said slowly. “Say tomorrow night during prefect rounds...” She squealed as Ron picked her up and spun her round and round.

“Snogging on prefect rounds” he laughed whirling her round. “Deal. I’ll even borrow the marauders map!”

“Woe there boy!” she laughed trying to be serious. “We won’t be snogging...” Ron gave her that quizzical look that always flustered her. “We’ll be... carrying on the tradition. Anyway don’t you want to know what you have to do if you lose?”

“How could I lose..? Not even Harry could wreck this thing” he exclaimed in a serious voice.

“But if... for argument sake the ever emotional Cho starts blubbering...”

“Ok if... for arguments sake Harry has ended up as a giant hankie – what’s the worst you can do?” He said joyously as he up her down. She was still in his arms so he beamed.

“I don’t know yet...” she’s oddly calm about this so he doesn’t push it and releases her. He reaches for her hand and they shake on it.

“Alright then... Now that’s settled...err... I have Transfiguration homework and the fire common room fire calling for me!” he sighed, with a smile. He offered her his arm which she took with a shy smile. “And besides...” he said clearing the odd crock in his throat. “We have to hear from Harry how his night went.”

 

 





 

Ron Weasley couldn’t believe this was happening. He was sat with his head in his hands trying to not think or feel anything. He concentrated on his breathing and on hiding his waking state from the room. He wasn’t in the mood to communicate. He felt guilty that his father was in hospital, his friend was in turmoil and all he wanted was Hermione to be there, where he could see her.

Two hours ago he’d been engaged in a very satisfactory dream about – to quote Harry – ‘something stupid’. Something wonderfully amazingly stupid and it wasn’t even a dream, as much as it was a bitter sweet memory: kissing Hermione (or had she kissed him?) on the deserted Yule Ball dance floor. He was reliving that sweet moment where they’d melted together with nothing but the sound of the antique grammarphone, the beating of their hearts and... And... Harry was screaming. All he could hear was that blood curdling cry ripping his reality in two.

That’s what woke him. He’d gone from absolute sleep to absolute alert in moments. Leaping to his friend’s side, he was desperately trying to get him to open his eyes. Neville went for help then Harry woke up and the rest of it was all a bit blurry from there.

Harry said his dad had been hurt. Then they were all in Dumbledore’s office. Ron swore he’d never forget the look of shock on his siblings faces.  He desperately wanted McGonagall to have brought Hermione too. It was all so strange and horrifying. Now they were stuck here again.

Harry had lied to everyone about the vision – but they should be spared the fact that his friend was the snake. Sirius was trying to be as helpful and hopeful as possible. He wouldn’t let them leave; he’d had a shouting match with the twins before drowning their sorrows in Butterbeer. But not even its near butterscotch flavour could take the truth away.

In the silence of the kitchen all he could hear was the fire and the bottles. He was in the mist of sending up silent prayers when a fire blazed in front of them revealing Fawkes – announcing the joyous news. Dad’s still alive. Dad’s still alive. The words went around his mind like music. Dad’s still alive.

Now he was sat waiting for more news, for the sun to come up, his alarm to go off waking him for this nightmare. It was after five when he gave that hope up. His mother arrived news:

‘He’s going to be alright’ her words came when he was half standing and he was pleased because he had less far to sink down which was so absurd. So absurd that he laughed. He downed his butterbeer to calm himself a bit.

Later, belly full of breakfast and seemingly endless sweet tea, his heart happy for his family – he felt restless like a kid before Christmas. They’d all be at his dad’s bedside soon. His restlessness, however, vanished and sleep claimed him quickly. His last thought was that he hoped Hermione wouldn’t be angry with him for going before they’d turned their kissing at Christmas into a tradition.

 

 





 

The next morning came so quickly that Hermione could hardly believe it. Ron had looked so triumphant and gleeful at Harry’s admitting to kissing Cho. She hated to lose which was why she gave the disgusted look, but then Harry had said she was crying. So technically she’d won too. 

However, the delicious part of the night after that had been not saying he had the ‘emotional range of a teaspoon’ but that Ron had asked:

‘What if he doesn’t want to ask her?’

She had woken up in the middle of the night kicking herself because of her response. A vague: ‘Don’t be silly. Harry’s liked her for ages...’ then they’d had that awkward silence after the silly tiff about Victor. If she’d had her time turner she’d have gone back, looked him in the eyes and said something like: ‘why shouldn’t he? They’ve lived each other for ages!’ Then she’d have given him an encouraging smile.

So here she was, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, wondering how to handle this new situation with Ron. Tonight, whatever happened there would be kissing. She had just decided to bring up this complication that they’d both won on this evenings prefect rounds. He wouldn’t be too upset with the forfeit; she’d decided last night that she wanted him to invite her for a day at Hogsmeade, without the twins.

“Morning Hermione” Neville said purposely as he came down the stairs.

“Hi Neville,” Hermione replied cheerily. “Sleep well?” As she came closer Hermione noticed he had a rather haggard look about him.

“No actually...” Neville said in a quiet voice. “Harry had a nightmare... but it was more than that” He led them over to the small alcove near the fire. “He kept saying that Ron’s dad had been hurt and he’d done it. I fetched McGonagall and she took them to Dumbledore – then they didn’t come back.” Hermione was in shock. “A little later I heard Fred and George rush past our room talking to McGonagall – all I got was her saying going to London.”

And suddenly she didn’t know what to do with herself. Hermione sat down and stared at him for a minute. Mr Weasley: hurt. If they were gone he could be dying or worst. And Harry saw it.

“You okay?” Neville asked in an uncertain voice. Hermione mutely nodded and was silent. “What should we do?”

“Do?” Hermione said coming round from the numb feeling. “We do nothing. Carry on as normal. Say nothing.” They got up and went to breakfast.

For one demented moment she was upset that she didn’t get to kiss him goodbye.

 

 





 

‘Oh bloody hell!’ he thought as they left the hospital.

The day had started off so much better than it could’ve done. He’d had a refreshing nap in which Hermione had starred. It was a blissful dream... Her eyes were shining in the moonlight; her lips had become swollen from their passionate encounter and as for her hair, wild from being played with, soft between his fingers and all the different amazing subtle hues it got at night. He was yawning happily when he looked over at Harry and noticed his act of also having slept.

Harry was as good at lying as Neville was at potions. He knew he hadn’t gotten to sleep but he played along. He looked through his truck for his muggle clothes and found the perfume for Hermione. He sighed sadly but cheered up considerably when he thought of the reunion they could have... Everyone was so happy and he joined in hoping against hope that Harry would too.

Ron’s favourite part of the day – thus far – was to go through muggle London because it did two things. First it reminded him of Hermione, giving him things to ask her about. Secondly, it gave him things to mention to his father, for example he noticed that some people were speaking into what looked like a giant brick they had them at the side of their face and where having one-sided conversations.

One man with no neck looked like he was shouting into his... he wanted it to sell some storks or something... another person was talking into a pink brick, she did so in such a sing song way Ron was amazed that the thing didn’t throw itself through a window.

He hated the hospital. It reminded him of the few times his mother couldn’t mend his injuries. The healers in their lime green robes didn’t notice them because they were busy and all of the pun safety posters made his eyes roll. They kind of reminded him of his dad’s jokes – suddenly he started to fidget. He looked over towards the floor guide and guessed that it was the first floor’.

Later, when they got to the ‘Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites’ he muttered to himself: ‘should have come here the end of my third year: definitely had a Sirius bit then.’ To his surprised his brothers laughed. All this time Ron let Harry lead. For some reason he knew that if he and his friend saw eachother face to face that would be bad.

 As they entered the dingy ward he was glad that he hadn’t needed to be admitted. He didn’t know what to expect but when he saw his dad propped up reading the paper. He breathed a sigh of relief – that was what did it. Shortly after that his brothers had tried to get information, his mother had thrown them off the ward, they’d overheard that conversation.

And a terror had entered Harry’s eyes; his face had looked white making his scar look brighter when they’d heard: ‘...if you- know-who’s possessing him’.  Later, he realised that they must have stared at him fearfully after that. There were no joking around like there had been with the Heir of Slytherin.

It was then that Ron had no idea what to do next and wanted Hermione so much he ached.

 

 





 

For Hermione, the rest of the day went by slowly as she was aware that people were wondering where her friends was. Their eyes followed her round, which was a feeling that wasn’t entirely unusual because she had been the centre of much interest during her time. She didn’t appreciate Umbridge trying to glean information from her.

It happened just before dinner and she’d managed to say that all she’d heard was it was a family emergency, when Professor Dumbledore himself interrupted.

“Miss Granger, I believe that Mr Longbottom is looking for you about prefect duties” he said in a kindly way. As she left she heard him continue. “It is so important that the prefects attend to their duties – especially today... “

Further down the corridor Hermione found Neville, speaking to Hannah.

“Oh hi Hermione” Neville said. He turned to Hannah “see ya after Christmas Hannah” he smiled after her for a moment before looking at Hermione. “Ok what time do rounds start?”

“Hello Neville, Ron and I usually set off at 7:45, why?”

“Well, I’m Ron’s prefect proxy” he said with a proud smile.

“What! Since when?” Hermione asked, totally astonished.

“Since the beginning of term... Ron said that if for whatever reason he couldn’t make prefect duty that I was to go with you. And that it’s important.” He said with a semi-confident smile. “He was very forceful about it.”

“Oh that’s ok Neville you don’t have to...” Hermione started.

“Yes I do!” he reassured her. “I gave my word and besides Ron said that if you said that I was to remind you that school policy, since the founding of the school states that prefects have to patrol in pairs.” The last part he did with his brow furrowed – concentrating hard then he looked at her. “I made sure it was ok with McGonagall.” Neville gave a weak smile.

“Of course you did” Hermione groaned. “Of course he asked... I’ll meet you in the common room.”

 

 





 

Ron was looking at his dinner. It looked nice – and usually Ron would be all too pleased to gobble up his dinner but tonight he didn’t feel like it. One of his friends could see into the head of the most evil dark wizard ever and this other friend had prefect duties... without him. At least she wasn’t going to be going alone; Neville would do everything possible to protect Hermione. But he still felt uneasy.

This would in fact the first Christmas they’d spent apart since first year and Ron didn’t like it one bit. It wasn’t even just because of their kissing at Christmas thing. It was the whole being together thing because as Hermione had reminded him since third year they’d never actually spent more than a few weeks apart. Being together at Christmas it was just magical.

The first year it had been a complete accident. Scabbers had escaped during the night and Ron, who was still awake whilst mulling over this new Hermione situation, had chased him downstairs.  

Hermione had been awake too, as had her fleabag cat... just as Hermione had seen him she’d run out of the portrait hole. Hermione however hadn’t been alone because it had given Scabbers an escape. So Ron and Crookshanks had followed. Ron called after Hermione to slow down and catch Scabbers when the rat, then the cat had over taken them.

“Oh this is just grate” he fumed.

“He’s a cat Ronald. What do you expect?” Hermione called. “Crookshanks, come here!” His anger towards Hermione about the Firebolt had died down a little because she was upset.

Remorse had flooded him as they’d blindly chased. They’d been lead through Hogwarts maze of corridors until Scabbers had run into a hole in the wall that Crookshanks couldn’t get and they’d been trapped under enchanted mistletoe.

Enchanted mistletoe, the silliest ever wizarding invention. They wouldn’t get out until they kissed or until someone found them and they both didn’t want that. For a while they hadn’t spoken to each other, they hadn’t even looked at each other. He’d been mad about the Firebolt and she’d been mad that he refused to admit that a) it was the prudent thing to have the thing checked out and b) that he knew that it wasn’t her fault that her cat chased his rat. Finally, Hermione couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Ronald” she’d said anxiously. “We have to get out of this or Crookshanks is going to eat Scabbers and you’ll never forgive me!” she admitted. “I don’t know why Crookshanks has taken to chasing him, there are plenty other pets in the common room that he ignores.”

“Oh I don’t know” he said with more bitterness than he felt. Then he turned to her and noticed how red her eyes were and his insides twisted. “Maybe...” he said quietly. “Maybe he sees how much fun we have fighting...”

“We have to kiss to get out of this don’t we?” Hermione asked. Ron nodded. “I’ve never done that before... not on someone awake anyway!” she’d amended to herself.

“Awake?” Ron asked, knowing the answer. Hermione’s eyes opened in horror and she didn’t know where to look.

“Okay” she said after a minuets pause. “When the giant chess piece knocked you down, you were knocked out cold. When I came back through from that final task I knew I needed you because I realised that flying scared me. I tried everything I could think of to wake you and was quiet distraught... so just because we live in a magical castle, I tried the fairytale method. I kissed...you!”

“So that’s why you did it?” he smiled weakly.

“You knew?”

“Yes I knew and later I’ll tell you something else...” he said trying to be brave. “This the going to be my first kiss too...” They were now standing close to each other and instinct kicked in.

At first it had been soft and unsure, but then this wave of passion, and hormones had taken over. They’d stood there for an unknowable amount of time; his hands had gone from tenderly touching her face to running through her hair. The more they kissed, the more they wanted to kiss. It was as if the world had gone from black and white to colour.

 They’d both lightly moaned when they heard her: Mrs Norris coming stalking around the corner.  The spell had been broken, they’d looked at each other stunned and breathing heavily. Hermione had make a grab for Crookshanks, allowing a dazed Ron to stun Scabbers. Then he’d grabbed her hand and they’d sprinted away. Only stopping now and then to get their breath and bearing. Every time they’d stood close, not touching and smiling shyly.

Half an hour later, they were back in the common room and red faced from running, Hermione’s confession and their first kiss.

“What did you want to tell me under the mistletoe?” Hermione had said as they sat by the dying fire.

“Oh” Ron said his ears reddening. “Urm... When you kissed me after I was knocked out – it woke me up. I was so dazed by the fall and shocked by being kissed that I pretended to be asleep. But I remember you saying that it worked in Sleeping Beauty... I found a copy over the summer and read it.”

“Very interesting Ronald but what does that have to do with the something else...” Hermione questioned feeling a little uncomfortable.

“I’m getting to that!” Ron said throwing her an exasperated look. “Well it was a totally barmy story that I read and forgot as soon as I put it down. However, I remembered it when you were petrified. So...”

“You kissed me!” Hermione said beaming. “I... I... Remember I had this dream that you were talking to be, really really softly telling me that you were looking for an answer, said you had a plan then...”

“But it didn’t work...”

“No, but as I was locked inside my own head only able to sometimes perceive things it gave me hope.” She said sounding sleepy.

“Come on you” Ron said happily. “Let’s go to bed.” He took her hand and led them to the staircase.

“Ron what are we going to do about the kiss..?”

They were about to start a thoroughly non-verbal goodbye.

 Ron sighed. “You mean ‘Best way to end an argument ever’!” He said taking her in his arms and shyly kissing her crown.

“Yeah!” she agreed with a giggle. “Now in the morning...” she started.

“You come over and say sorry...” he finished and then suddenly she was moving out of his arms.

“Why do I have to be sorry?” she squeaked with rage. “You know I’m right about the Firebolt...”

“Yeah well...” Ron exclaimed. “You’re fleabag is trying to eat my rat... I can’t even believe you bought that... that...”

“He’s a cat Ronald!”

After that they stormed to their rooms and didn’t take about it... until exactly a year later when it happened again.

Throughout that year, thoughts of that first proper kiss plagued his mind. In moments of weakness he kept trying to think of ways to get her alone to talk and make up. That kiss and its passion came back especially when she’d walked into the Great Hall with Vicky. In his heart he felt confused, it was like on the one hand she was cheating on him and the other he had let her down. How he hated that grumpy Bulgarian git.

 Right now back in the present day it was an unassuming carrot that got the brunt of Ron’s wrath.

Ron tried to snap himself out of this: he knew she needed time with her parents and all but she couldn’t help but think that he needed her more... Harry needed her because he was going slowly but visibly more crazed as time went on.

Just then his thoughts were interrupted by Fred sitting next to him, while George started to tell a very long and humour-filled story about a hag, a werewolf and a dragon.

“Ronnie” Fred whispered. “How you holding up?” he asked with true concern.

“As well as any wizard can be when one of his friends is going down a mountain on wooden planks” he said reaching for his butterbeer. “And the other one holed up in our room able to see into you-know-who’s mind...” he took a swig and sighed. “My life really is absurd isn’t it?”

“Well we could have told you that in your first year...” said nodding his head. “Going all year without a detention and now proud owner of a special services to the school trophy AND a prefect badge.” Fred sighed. “We often ask ourselves what we did wrong...”

“Ha Ha!” Ron said rolling his eyes. “Could you imagine how much trouble I’d be in with Mione and mum if I followed your shining example?”

“Something along the lines of... Ronald” he said in a very Hermione-ish style. Ron smiled sadly. “Much as I love speaking about your Mrs” Fred commented wriggling his eyebrows suggestively “That’s not why I’m here. George and I want to offer you our floor tonight...”

“WHAT?” Ron said shocked and a little louder than he intended, grabbing only Ginny’s attention. “I can’t leave Harry?”

“Okay... Okay...” Fred whispered again urgently. “Don’t come crying to us when your friend literally bits your head off.”

“He doesn’t actually bit, Fred” he muttered. “He just sees into you-know-who’s mind. I don’t understand it. HE doesn’t understand it but it happens.” They were silent for minuet. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“No problem little brother: to be honest we just wanted to try out more Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products!”

 

 





 

“Neville” exclaimed Hermione holding him back from shouting at Filch. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” She said in a quietly but firm way. Neville backed up but looked unhappy about it.

This out of character rage reminded her of Ron. The first time they’d had to go on patrol with Filch he’d been going on about his favour topic, Dumbledore’s punishment policy and how Umbridge had the right ideas. He was excited by the twin’s quidditch ban and Harry finally being kept in line. Hermione had been so desperate to keep Ron from doing something he’d regret that she’d held his hand.

It wasn’t until Filch had noticed their hand holding that the real tirade of hate had begun. He’d thought their hand holding was romantic, that Ron’s red ears where a sign of embarrassment rather than pent up rage and Hermione’s eye communication was something other than helping Ron to keep his temper.

“Dating then?” Filch sneered. He didn’t wait for a reply. “I don’t approve of pure-bloods mixing with anything other than purebloods – not even half-bloods, especially not mudbloods... My family are all purebloods from as far back as the founders...”

“Didn’t help you though did it?” Ron muttered. Filch steps faltered and he hadn’t said much after that. But with Neville and the fact that the Weasley’s and Harry were away. The hate resumed.

He felt safe because it was only Neville that was there, but Neville was surprisingly angry.

“This will be over soon” Hermione sighed as they rounded yet another corner.

“Doesn’t he understand that the Death Eaters don’t like his kind as much as they don’t like muggleborn’s” Neville asked through gritted teeth.

“Apparently not.” Hermione admitted. “ But...”

“Well, if it isn’t the future Mrs Weasel-beck and her faith lap hound Lostbottom!” exclaimed Malfoy who was breezing around the corner with Pansy. Neville reached for his want and stood slightly ahead of Hermione as a shield. Draco seemed more amused than intimidated. “What’s the matter mudblood...?”

“Malfoy, what do you want?” sneered Filch whom Malfoy either hadn’t seen or was ignoring.

“Sorry sir, I hadn’t seen you there” Malfoy said with false respect. “Professor Umbridge called us to get you, something about punishment... Pansy my love...please take him to her while I have a quick word with these two...”

“Well, now isn’t this interesting...” Malfoy laughed humourlessly. “You’ve got a thing for Pure-Blood’s... just swapped one for the other – don’t judge us proper pure-bloods by these ‘examples’” he said beginning to circle them. “Then again what does it matter? The Dark Lord will probably kill you soon enough...”

“What are you students doing?” McGonagall asked briskly. “Malfoy go about your duties. Granger I would like quick word with you she added “alone.” As Malfoy left with a scowl, Neville walked over to besides a suit of armour.

“The headmaster would like to see you in his office: tomorrow morning at 8am” she whispered. “The password is: Fizzing Whizzbee.”

 

 





 

Ron wasn’t tired. Even though he knew he should be exhausted Ron was wide wake. Staring into the fire wondering...

First he was wondering what he was going to do with Harry because despite his bravado to Fred. He was a little bit scared of going in there. Sure he knew that Harry hadn’t actually bitten his dad but he had seen it, and what’s more lied about it. At the back of his mind it thought that this was by far, Harry’s worst plan. Not telling Dumbledore about BEING the snake was wrong. He could understand not telling the family but it still jarred him.

As had Fred’s constant nickname for Hermione when the two of them were alone. ‘His future Mrs...’ It was something he made sure that no one else heard, not even George – when he was twelve and trying to understand his new friend – it had angered him. Now he thought it was probably true, but he hated that his brother had been right.

He looked at the clock again. If his father hadn’t been attacked, he’d be at school right now: kissing Hermione. He had had it all planned they would have gone to where that mistletoe had been. He was going to generally tease her about losing the bet, make her smile before taking her in his arms and kissing her.

After that he’d let her be in control and if she continued the kiss, moaned, run those ink stained figures over his back or through his hair, he would have asked her to Hogsmeade for Valentine’s day. Just the two of them, now that Harry and Cho would probably go together, maybe the four of them could hang out at some stage but... 

That daydream was out of the window. He looked out of the small window in the kitchen and sighed. It was snowing. He loved it when it snowed. He wondered if he could get Bill to get a message to Hermione asking her to come. Maybe he could sneak out and wait at the station for he’d and beg her not to go with her parents.

It was no use. He’d never be allowed to go and meet the Hogwarts express.  He lent back in his chair and felt hopeless. It was nearly midnight and if his mother was here she’d have sent him to bed. His mother had been at the hospital since after dinner. Suddenly, the fireplace burst into green flames and his mother stepped into the kitchen.

“Hi mum!” Ron said absentmindedly. “What a cuppa?”

“Love one!” she exclaimed as she took her cloak off. “But what are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep” she said with a shrug as she went to get a cup from the cupboard.

“Oh Ronnie” his mother said as she went over and hugged him. “Don’t worry your dad will probably be home by Christmas and we’ll spend tomorrow...”

“Please don’t say cleaning!” he exclaimed. “Because it isn’t character building it’s just tiring and I have enough revision to do...”

“Oh psh!” Molly replied. “I was going to say decorate for Christmas.” She said with a smile letting him go. “But if you want to clean...”

“No mum...” he reassured. “Decorating we can do... Hermione and I have no problem decorating. We’re experts in fact. On prefect duty, I nearly got strangled by Peeves...”

“Well... I’m sure that you and your siblings – Harry included because he’s one of us!” she smiled. “- will also enjoy decorating this place because it needs it! How about I make you some honey milk?”

“Yeah! That’d be nice...”

The conversation then progressed into plans for the decorations and things they thought could improve the house in general. It found it surprisingly fun to have a conversation with his mum. It was rare that he had a parent to himself so it was good. Half an hour later, his mother convinced him to head up to bed. Harry was finally asleep and as he slipped into his own find rest he wondered if the sleep would help him feel better.

 

 





 

 “Good morning, Miss Granger” Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. “Precisely on schedule! Please sit down.” He motioned to the seat next to his. Hermione smiled sweetly and did what she was asked. She was wringing her hands and felt a little nervous.

“Let me start by reassuring you that Mr Arthur Weasley is recovering in hospital.” The head master said kindly. “Harry and the Weasley clan visited him yesterday afternoon – so he’s in high sprites.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

“Harry on the other hand” he said seriously. “He saw the snake attack. He describes it as a vision... He’s very shaken... As are the Weasley’s...”

“Professor,” Hermione said calming downing because her heart had been in her throat until she’d heard Mr Weasley was alright. “I’d like to go to them. I know I was going away with my parents but my place is with Ron.” She said definitely, before realising what she said and adding. “And Harry. Helping Harry with Ron that’s my place.”

“I must admit I was hoping you would say that,” Dumbledore smiled in a kind way. “The Weasley’s aren’t at the Burrow – they’re in London. I would advice going to the Leaky Cauldron on the Knightbus then getting public transport to the house. I think that you’ll remember the buses you and Ronald took.” Hermione nodded, remembering the fun they’d had crossing the city during the summer.

They spoke about further plans to get Hermione there before she went off to breakfast. As she left she felt as happy and excited as she had when Ron was spinning her around gleeful about the bet. Words couldn’t contain her feelings. First, she had a letter to her parents to plan and what was more important she had to avoid Umbridge.

 

 





 

Ron sat in the front room of Grimmauld Place. He stared out the window, thinking about how exactly he was going to deal with Harry without Hermione’s help. Seeing his dad being attacked was bad enough but to overhear that he was in fact seeing things from You-Know-Who’s snake but that he could be possessed by him. Now that was a Hippogriff by a different colour.

When they’d gotten back to the house Harry had squirreled himself away in their room. He’d shouted at the portrait of Phineas Black – Dumbledore had said ‘stay where you are’ and Ron happened to agree that was an excellent idea. So the course of action he’d chosen was to stay clear of him for a bit, not push, then try and speak to him.

Ron couldn’t believe that forty-eight hours ago he was laughing and joking with Hermione... That he’d called her Mione to-her-face spun her round in his arms and won a bet - a very important bet. He’d give ANYTHING for her advice right now. Was giving Harry space the right thing to do or would he be obsessing about it?

Was it right that he’d only nipped in and told Harry about dinner before darting out so he couldn’t shout. The house was less tense now because of the visit to the hospital, it was nice to be together at a time like this but he kept looking for Hermione to come through the door.

“I don’t think she’s going to arrive you know?” Ginny said bringing him a mug of tea.

“What are you on about I’m not thinking about Hermione!” he exclaimed defending himself. “I was thinking about this Harry situation.”

“How is he?”

“No idea” he replied honestly. “He didn’t sleep when we got here, because I think that he was afraid to sleep. Now he’s just avoiding us by spending time with Buckbeck. He won’t even talk to Sirius. I mean he’s seriously Sirius... He always wants to talk to him!”

“I think he’s freaking out that you-know-know possessing him” Ginny said in a small voice. “I mean I was freaked out about it.”

“Yeah I know you were Gin” he said seriously. This sister being taken was never something that he’d forget. “But it’s not like he was actually possessed. He didn’t leave his bed he was just thrashing.”

“And what did Harry say when you told him that?” She asked slowly.

“Well...”

“You haven’t told him have you?” “You know what he’s like, he has a hero complex. All he’s ever seen was that people being hurt was his fault? Remember when Hermione was petrified, when he discovered what happened with Tom, when you were hurt by Sirius...Bloody hell Ronald remember last summer with Cedric?” With that she headed for the door, but before she was gone she turned and said through gritted teeth. “No wonder he’s like this! We REALLY need to talk to him.”

 

 





 It was as if the falling snow had hypnotised him: casting a Stupefy charm that had frozen him for the duration. He knew that he needed to move but the snow falling was turning Grimmauld into a wonderland. This family had decided to give him space but he knew that Sirius and his sister and even his brothers had looked in on him.

 

There was a couple in the snow throwing snowballs, they looked to be flirting and having a grand time. Ron couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if that was Hermione and him. He sighed with discontent and turned away from couple. That’s when he noticed figure enter Grimmauld Place. To begin with Ron thought his imagination was running riot. But the person was heading purposely towards number twelve.

 

He rationalised his thoughts right now should be about to set off for her skiing with her parents. However as the figure got closer he could see it was dragging a trunk, balancing familiar cat box and had a mane of familiar hair that was getting in her face and mouth.

 

Normally he would have time to get ready for being reunited with Hermione. Words failed him as he gazed out of the window at the figure. I jumped up and nearly tripped over his feet – he searched his pocket for a mint and as he past a stained mirror – racked a hand through. This feeling of being flustered about seeing her had been getting worse as the years had gone on – which was generally why he liked to not be parted from her. It saved all these feelings. He reached the door, just in time to her the door bell ring and Mrs Black start shouting.

 

A moment later his mother appeared.

 

“Who can that be?”

 

 She asked as she met him at the door and started to unlock the door.

 

“Mione” Ron breathed with anticipation his mother looked at him and frowned questioningly.

 

“Hermione mum. It’s Hermione.” He said in a small voice.

 

Ron heard Remus and Sirius appeared shushing Mrs Black. They had just about managed it when the door was unlocked revealing Hermione, complete with cat and trunk.

 

“Hermione, what a lovely surprise!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed. “You really should have told us...”

 

“Thanks Mrs Weasley. It was a last minute decision” Hermione smiled wearily.

 

Ron wanted to hug her, pick her up and whirl her round and round but all he could muster was:

 

“Hi!”

 

Hermione on the other hand, emotional from not knowing what was happening, the uncertainly travelling via knight bus ran towards him sobbing. Instead of being embarrassed and standing motionless; he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair and whispered:

 

“Shh, shh, Mione dads alright” he soothed.  “We saw him yesterday... he’s fine. Got some daft muggle stitches but he’s really alright – if Harry hadn’t...”

 

“We’ll give you two a minute.” Mrs Weasley said with a mothers knowing look. “I’ll make some tea and sandwiches.” Ron nodded and walked Hermione into the living room. He closed the door and he just looked at each other.

 

They were running their fingers through each other’s hair... After everything, the few days apart the worry over his dad and Harry’s situation, something inside them broke. As soon as they were alone they had leaped at each other... Passionately kissing.

 

“We don’t have long” Ron said against Hermione’s lips.

 

“Don’t... need... long” Hermione muttered whilst not stopping her assault on his lips. “Need... coat... off...”

 

“Yes Mione” he said happily staring on the buttons. She giggled. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for luv...”

 

“Somehow the idea of you removing my coat, in Grimmauld Place...” Hermione defended herself whilst kissing his jaw. “Hilarious!”

 

“‘I agree absolutely totally” he said absentmindedly as he slipped her coat off.

 

“Too much talking not enough kissing!” she complained.

 

Ron also agreed with that statement so redoubled his efforts to take all comprehendible thought from her mind. Suddenly, he remembered that spot she always rubbed when she was stressed and couldn’t contain his enthusiasm. He trailed his attention away from her mouth, along the jaw line to the neck. Their conversation continued:

 

“Merlin, I missed you!” she exampled. He pulled back and smiled. She looked into his eyes and smiled hungry. Now she attacked his neck. Sucking and kissing and biting.

 

“Oh Mione” he moaned. “I missed you too...” he said moving them to the sofa.

 

“We need to talk now though” she said when they sank into the cushions.

 

Asking each other how they were was peppered with worshiping lips and revenant hands.

 

“How is everyone doing?”

 

“Much better...”

 

“Twins... offered... me... floor...”

 

“Oh... that’s strange!”

 

His lips had changed their focus, returning them to the spot on her neck that was now a little red. They had been together for only a few minuets when from outside they heard the floor boards go and sprang apart.

 

Hermione tried to straighten herself up and Ron’s eyes suddenly bulged in horror.

 

“Hello Hermione,” Sirius said with a mischievous smile. “Nice love bite!” he added as he removed his wand from his side, pointed his want and mutted a spell at her neck. “There... Don’t worry your secrets safe with me. And besides perhaps you can talk to Harry – he’s upstairs with Buckbeck.” Just then Ginny came hurtling in – launching herself into Hermione’s arms.

 

“Your best friend is an idiot!” Ginny said, fiercely hugging Hermione.

 

“Thanks Gin... I’m standing right here..!” Ron pouted making Hermione smile. Ron looked over at her, for the first time noticing she still had snow in her hair.

 

“Not you, prat brain.” She said shooting him a nasty look and removed herself room

 

Hermione’s embrace. “The other one”

 

“What’s happening?”

 

“Oh hasn’t the genius told you?” she fumed. “Harry’s moping in Buckbecks room because he saw dad get hurt and he’s blaming himself. More so now that we over heard the grown-ups talking about you-know possessing him.

 

“Even though he didn’t leave his bed, let alone our room on the night in question” Ron said humourlessly. “He started off by not sleeping. Then yesterday that’s all he did. Today he’s not spoken, not eaten and is broody!”

 

“Right, you guys go and get the food from your mum and take it to your room. While, I’ll get him and we talk this whole matter out.”

 

She sighed as she left, Ron held back as his sister dashed off to get the sandwiches. Ron grabbed her hand and whispered in her ear.

 

“We finish this Christmas night!” they both smiled at each other knowing that soon enough something between them would be resolved but now Harry needed them more.

 

 





 

I like reviews and might do a sequel.

She-who-must-be-reviewed.

 
 
 




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