Hermione
As soon as she opened the door, the cold air hit her like a brick wall. Pulling her scarf more tightly around her face, Hermione reached into her pocket and felt the phone. It felt much too heavy. With a sigh, she started the long walk to the apparition point.
She could have floo’d of course, but that would have put her within cell service far too soon. She had only bought the cell phone for one purpose, her parents. Now the thought of having the same draining conversation made her steps slow even further. She could do without the prim politeness, the passive guilt, and finally the heated end where nothing would be resolved.
Of course, she knew how things had become so tense. It was entirely her fault. It was she who stood with Harry, she who had put the target not only on her own back but her parents as well, and she who had sent her parents away without giving them a choice in the matter. And while she didn’t regret a bit of it, it was she who was responsible for cleaning up the aftermath.
She needed to put herself in a better mindset before placing her call. Guiltily she thought of the person who always made her smile. Guilty, because she wasn’t meant to think of him, not like that anymore. She was heartbreakingly in love with Fred Weasley. He didn’t feel the same, of course not, and she had decided months ago to bury those feelings deep.
Burying things was something she excelled in. Exhaustion, shame, even kindness when the situation warranted it. But unrequited love, that seemed the one thing she couldn’t sink low enough to ever fully let go of. This time, she decided it was all Fred’s fault. If he weren’t so incredibly perfect, she would be able to let go of these feelings and just move on.
Fred wasn’t perfect, of course, not really. He was brash, loud, crude, and sometimes cruel. Though she too could be rather cruel at times, she reminded herself. Malfoy, Umbridge, and Skeeter could attest to that, even if it came from a place of self preservation. No, the thing about Fred Weasley was that for every unkind thing he’d ever done there were loads of times he was unflinchingly thoughtful and caring.
It had been Fred who held her late in the night, with soft whispers and hot tea when she’d returned from Australia. He was the one who snuck into Hogwarts after she’d returned for her final year to force her to eat and sleep properly. Fred was there to set her parents home to rights when she saw what the death eaters had left when they found the house was empty.
She let her mind wander to how bittersweet it would be to stand in the kitchen, surrounded by children, baking the Christmas biscuits. An activity she had loved dearly as a child herself. Christmas was the time of year when her parents would temporarily forget their ban on all things sugary and bake dozens and dozens of sweets. They would package the excess and take them round to less fortunate families to try and brighten their holidays.
Before she started feeling too sorry for herself, Hermione pulled out the small silver phone and flipped it open. With a final sigh and shake of her head, she pressed the button that would connect her half across the world to the two people who were still too frightened of magic, of her, to make it home for the holiday.