Six
Three Days Before Christmas
Ron
The house is dark and quiet as he slips in the door, shutting it gently behind him. Slipping off his boots and heavy Auror robe, Ron limps into the kitchen and sits with a groan.
Fucking Death Eaters.
He and Harry had finally caught up with the small group they'd been tracking in the Welsh countryside, catching them by surprise. He'd been locked in a duel with Zabini's worthless prick of a dad when a fist collided with the side of his skull. After several minutes of swapping between protego and hexes, he and Harry managed to subdue the four older wizards.
He rests his head back against the dining room chair, closing his eyes.
I need a fucking drink.
Soft footsteps pull his attention as Hermione walks into the kitchen, a look of surprise crossing her face as they lock eyes.
Her gentle touch as she inspects his face is quickly replaced by a sharp sting when she repairs his broken eye socket. He makes his way up to the shower, his knee still aching. He'll have her look at it in the morning.
Two Days Before Christmas
Ron
He lies and tells her he's going to the Ministry Ministry, omitting his plan to meet up with Harry in London. The tired-looking wizard greets him with a lazy grin as Ron enters their usual coffee spot. He claps a hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Can't believe you're buying a fucking ring, mate."
Ron returns his infectious smile, bouncing with nervous energy as they wait for their drinks.
"Neither can I. Looked through some of her other jewelry this morning, pretty sure I know what I'm looking for."
Molly
The kitchen is unusually empty for this time of morning. She sets Teddy in his highchair and turns to the sink to wash her hands. Two mugs of tea, still steaming, sit on the counter.
Odd.
A few minutes later, Angelina makes her way down to the kitchen, and Molly greets her with a soft smile. She loves the dear girl and is perfectly happy with more kids home for the holiday. Angelina yawns, looking around the room.
"Have you seen George this morning? I feel like I remember having to drag him out of bed, I've never known him to be much of an early riser."
Molly frowns, glancing at the tea.
"He doesn't sleep well anymore, dear. Nightmares, I think."
The sound of the shower turning on upstairs draws her attention.
"That'll be him, I suspect."
Angelina nods, settling down at the table and cooing softly at Teddy. Molly makes them each a cup of coffee and begins to warm a pot of oatmeal for the baby.
After a short while, George comes downstairs into the kitchen, looking exhausted. Molly's heart pulls slightly. Hermione follows shortly after, her face flushed.
"You feeling alright, love?"
Molly walks over to the girl, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. Hermione's cheeks bloom a deeper pink as she shakes her head.
"I'm fine, Molly."
Ron
"That one."
It's been a long morning for the clueless wizards, as they've looked at what feels like a hundred rings. The man behind the counter nods politely, placing the delicate gold band with clusters of rubies and topaz into a black velvet box.
"Ron, I have to ask. You're sure about this, right? Like...really sure?"
He shakes his head at Harry with a grin.
"Mate, I've been sure since the day she chewed me out in that forest for leaving the two of you. I knew I'd never leave her again."
Christmas Morning
Molly
She'd been up since before the sunrise, cooking and decorating. Bill and Fleur are due any moment, and she's juggling two types of pies, thick cut bacon, a heaping pot of beans and a tomato jam.
She's already shooed Hermione and George from their spot at the table, forcing them to take their tea into the den. Pretending not to notice the look that passes between them, she whips up a quick pot of coffee for herself and her youngest, who shuffles down the stairs with wild bedhead, rubbing her eyes.
"You know, mum, some families sleep in on Christmas."
Molly rolls her eyes, stirring the beans.
Ron
He stares up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house stirring to life downstairs. Sitting up, he pulls the small black box out of his nightstand and opens it, gently brushing the ring with a fingertip.
What if she says no?
He shakes his head, pushing the thought from his mind. He's just anxious, and Hermione keeps assuring him that she's not acting strangely, but...
It's just the holiday. She's probably missing her parents and doesn't want to talk about it.
He stands, stretching before wandering across the hall to take a shower.
Molly
She barely registers Ron's proposal, eyes still fixated on George after his reveal.
She fixed his ear.
Because of this, Molly is the only one in the room that catches George's nearly imperceptible head shake, as if he's telling Hermione to say no. Something clicks into place.
He loves her.
Molly's heart sinks as a flustered Hermione rushes out of the den, and a hush falls over everyone. Ron stands, stunned for a moment, before walking into the fireplace and leaving in a huff. The sound of his destination muttered under his breath before he's engulfed in green flames.
George stands after a moment, walking out to the kitchen. The sound of the back door shutting brings her back into focus, listening to everyone muttering amongst themselves.
Ron
His face burns in embarrassment as he storms into the fireplace, muttering his way to Grimmauld Place. Stepping out of the fireplace into the quiet house, he lets out a frustrated shout, running his hands through his hair tightly and launching the ring box across the room.
What the absolute fuck was that?
He sinks onto the couch with a sob, laying there for a few hours until Harry walks through the front door. The wizard sits gingerly on the end of the sofa, resting a hand on Ron's knee.
"You alright?"
Ron sighs, sitting up and rubbing his palm across his face.
"How pissed is she that I left?"
Harry's hesitation sends a rock into his gut.
"She left, too, mate."
A frown crosses Ron's face. Where would she have gone if not the exact same place he thought to run to? Grimmauld may have been left to Harry, but it's a place they all find comfort. Harry's voice cuts through the silence.
"I think George brought her somewhere to blow off some steam and get away from the family. He's gone, too."
George?
Ron hadn't known what the two of them were cooking up for Christmas, and was as surprised as anyone when his older brother revealed a shiny new ear.
I didn't think they spent that much time together.
The Day After Christmas
Molly
An owl arrives shortly after breakfast, carrying three letters. Molly recognizes the bird as one from the joke shop and flips through the pieces of parchment. One is addressed to her, one to Angelina, and one to Ginny. She sets the other two down and carefully opens her's.
Mum,
Sorry for leaving during Christmas like that. Hermione needed a place to go to process everything, so we're at the flat above the shop.
She says you can tell Ronald where she is. Maybe have him send an owl if he's going to show up,give her a chance to get her thoughts together. She also explicitly asked me to apologize on her behalf for the scene, but I think that's rubbish, and you probably do as well.
I love you, I'll try to come home soon. I think she just needs time and space.
- Your Favorite Son
Her face pulls into a soft smile as she shakes her head. The way he'd looked at her when Ron proposed, it all made sense. The morning tea, the odd silences, the occasional long glances. Clearly, she feels the same.
Poor Ronald.
Soft steps thud in her direction as Ginny walks into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. He raises an eyebrow as Molly hands over the letter addressed to her and she reads it with a snort before handing it over to Molly without a word.
Gin,
Please feed Crookshanks for the next few days, if you don't mind.
There's a new broom waiting for you in the corner of my closet. Thank Angelina, she told me which one to get you.
- Your Favorite Brother
Molly chuckles, handing the parchment back to Ginny, who shakes her head and smirks.
"What a git. Takes off and leaves me with chores."
She wanders back upstairs to feed Hermione's cat, passing Angelina as she walks into the kitchen. The girl smiles softly at Molly.
"Morning, Molly."
Her brows knit together in confusion as Molly hands her the letter addressed to her. She reads it over multiple times before folding the paper back up and clearing her throat.
"He...um, apologized for leaving. Said if he doesn't see me before I head back to Hogwarts that it was nice catching up."
Molly catches the slight shake of the girl's hands as she tucks the letter into her back pocket. Clearly she's leaving something out, but Molly doesn't want to pry.
Ron
The Burrow is surprisingly quiet, considering the number of people occupying it. He steps into the kitchen to find Molly and Angelina standing awkwardly around the table, with Teddy munching away on his breakfast. He gestures at the letter in his mother's hand with his chin.
"What's all that?"
Molly clears her throat, glancing back over at Angelina.
Why does she look so damn uncomfortable?
His mother's voice is quiet, as if trying to soften a blow.
"George wrote to let us know he and Hermione are at the flat above the shop. She's okay, and you're welcome to go see her, he just asked that you send an owl first, so she can gather her thoughts."
His stomach twists.
He went back to the flat.
The family had all wondered amongst themselves if George would ever go back to what, by all rights, was his home. After losing Fred, George had avoided the shop and the flat above it like the plague.
He said there were too many memories.
Ron sighs, shaking his head as he sits at the table.
"I'm just going to leave her alone for a bit, I suppose."
Alone with your brother.
Present Day
Ron
He needed a beer. After sending word to Harry through the fireplace to meet him at the Cauldron, he'd hopped on his broom to fly to the tavern. He hadn't flown in weeks, and the sharp December air helped pull his focus from the noxious cycle his thoughts had been stuck in.
Now, he sits in the corner, watching his brother guide his girlfriend into the dimly lit room, his hand on her lower back.
What the fuck?
He watches as she sits, clearly upset. George walks away, returning with a pint for each of them. His brother reaches across the table, taking Hermione's hand and gently holding it. The looks she gives him makes Ron's heart ache and he stands, walking over to their table. He catches the tail end of their conversation when he approaches.
"That's because you're a good person, angel."
Ron's stomach sours.
How the fuck did I miss this?
He speaks up.
"Angel, huh?"
Hermione turns an inhuman shade of white, and his brother slowly turns in his seat, acknowledging him.
"Ronald."
Ron looks between them, brow furrowing.
"So, this is why you said no. I'm a fucking idiot."
He turns to leave, walking out into the cold when he feels a tug on his shoulder. Hermione stands on the sidewalk, shivering slightly, a pleading look in her eye.
Hermione
You did this to yourself.
The look on Ron's face breaks her heart, and she chases him out to the street, gesturing to George to stay.
"Ron, wait."
He turns, glaring down at her, waiting for her explanation. She tucks her lip between her teeth, thinking before she continues.
"I didn't say no because of George. I said no because...because we're nineteen, Ron. And I've been feeling this anxiety about us for a while and I didn't want to ruin Christmas by bringing it up earlier, and then you proposed and all of it just came to a head and..."
She trails off, eyes cast down.
"And if I'd said yes, it wouldn't have been fair to either of us, because I would have only done it out of obligation to you and our friendship."
The muscle in Ron's jaw flexes as he chews over her words, eyes spitting venom in her direction.
"How long have you been fucking my brother?"
Her eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks flushing a bright red. Despite the chill in the air, her body burns hot with shame. Her mouth opens and closes silently as she tries to answer. Ron pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing.
"Just tell me, Hermione."
She plays with her strand of her hair nervously, avoiding eye contact as she answers.
"The first time was two days before Christmas."
Ron
Blood rushes in his ears, and his vision tunnels on her.
"So, I was shopping for a ring and you were fucking my brother. Did I get that right?"
A look of realization crosses his face.
This is why George said to send an owl before coming over. So they wouldn't get caught.
He sees her face turn a deeper shade of red. Bringing his hand up to her chin, he gently forces her to look at him.
"This is over. Clearly. I'll be at Grimmauld Place until the end of the week to give you time to get your shit out of the Burrow. I don't want to fucking see you or that asshole for a long goddamned time. This is so fucked up, 'Mione."
She cringes at the nickname, tears filling her eyes.
Good. I hope she feels like shit.
"Bye, Hermione. Tell him I said he can go fuck himself."
Hermione
She's chokes down a sob as Ron apparates away, leaving her shivering on the sidewalk. A moment passes, and she feels her jacket being draped around her shoulders, a soft voice in her ear.
"It's over, angel. Nothing else you can do."
She turns, looking up at George as she slides her arms into her coat and wipes at her eyes.
"Are you okay with me staying with you for a bit?"
George smiles softly, brushing his fingertips along the side of her face.
"Of course you can."