CHAPTER FOUR
DRINKING TO A HAPPY CHRISTMAS
***HERMIONE***
The moment was getting very awkward. Hermione decided to turn away from Ron’s gaze. His eyes had gotten that strange look to them again, and for some reason, this made her uncomfortable.
“Well, erm…” she stammered, feeling even more awkward. “Shall we eat now? I must say, I’m quite famished. Haven’t eaten anything since dinner yesterday.” Hermione walked into the dining room and looked at each place setting. “Where do you want to sit? It doesn’t matter to me, really.”
Ron came over to where she stood and spoke to her back, “What do you mean, you haven’t eaten since dinner yesterday? That’s not healthy, ‘Mione. It’s a good thing my mum’s not here right now, or you’d be getting a right earful from her,” he joked. He sounded as if he was trying to hide real concern with that joke.
Hermione waved it away. “Rubbish. I was busy, and I didn’t have time,” she said, dismissing the fact. He came around so that she was facing him and touched her arm.
“What, exactly, was so important that you couldn’t take…what? Fifteen? Twenty minutes to get yourself something decent to eat?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Schoolwork. Wanted to get it out of the way, you know. So I’d have the rest of the holiday to myself,” she stated matter-of-factly, looking him in the eye. Ron sighed and shook his head, laughing. “What are you on about? For you information, I had loads of homework assigned to me for over the holiday, and thanks to my meal skipping, I’m now more than half-way done!” she said incredulously.
“Same old Hermione. Always doing her homework before she needs to. Will you ever change?” he chuckled. She looked back up at him and contemplated arguing, but she really didn’t want to start a row now. Not on Christmas Eve.
“Guess not.” Ron seemed shocked by her lack of retaliation, but decided not to say anything. After a few moments of heavy silence, Hermione took it upon herself to break it.
“Come on. I’m starved,” she said cheerfully, grabbing Ron’s hand and pulling him farther into the dining room. She pulled her wand out of the back pocket of her jeans and began to magically slice the turkey. “About how much do you want, Ron?” she asked. He grabbed her wand hand and lowered it.
***RON***
“Oh, no. No, I’ll get it. Really,” Ron babbled, ushering Hermione to the seat at the far-right end of the magically lengthened table. Using his wand, he pulled out her chair, sat her down in it, and then pushed her back in. He had been practicing this particular maneuver earlier this morning with a large doll while the turkey had been cooking, and he was now pretty good at playing host. His need to impress Hermione was now out-weighing his need for secrecy when it came to his feelings.
“Ron, I’m not helpless, you know. I’m perfectly capable of serving my host some turkey. After all, it’s the least I can do. You’ve done all this for me, and, well, I can’t lie. I do feel a bit uncomfortable accepting all of this. Now, I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate it, but…I’d feel better if I had something to do,” Hermione insisted.
“Rubbish. In the words of my mum, ‘you’re the guest’,” Ron said, picking up where she had left off in cutting the turkey. “Now, how much?” he asked, indicating the turkey with the tip of his wand.
“Oh, fine, looks like I’ll never win…three slices should do it,” she replied exasperatedly. She sighed while levitating the serving spoon for the garlic mashed potatoes over to her and heaping some onto her plate.
Ron muttered, “Wengardium Leviosa.” Three neat slices of white turkey breast floated over to Hermione’s plate and nestled themselves next to the mashed potatoes.
“Green bean casserole?” he offered.
“Oh, yes, please. I LOVE your mum’s green bean casserole!” She nodded enthusiastically. With the flick of his wand, Ron made a nice-sized serving of the dish disappear from the baking crock and reappear on her plate.
“Got everything you need?” he asked, making his way toward the other end of the table. Hermione nodded.
“Yes. You’ve been quite accommodating, Ron. I must say, I am quite impressed,” she said, looking at him appraisingly. At that very moment, Ron’s stomach gave a loud rumble. Hermione giggled.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his ears as red as his hair. “I’m, er, kind of hungry myself.” She giggled again.
“Go ahead and serve yourself, Ron. I’m perfectly fine here. Everything looks delicious.” He shot her a grateful look and heaped food onto his own plate.
“Same old Ron,” she commented with a chuckle as she cut her turkey into neat little pieces. “Always thinking about food. Will YOU ever change?”
“Looks like neither of us will, eh?” Ron sat down and took a sip of his wine before tucking into his food.
“Red wine?” Hermione said, raising her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you drank wine, Ron. Since when?”
“Oh. I don’t usually. Just on special occasions. That’s all,” Ron replied between bites of potato.
Hermione cast him a reproachful look, but then shrugged, muttered something about “When in Rome…” and then raised her own wineglass. “To a Happy Christmas with long-lost friends,” she toasted. Ron smiled and raised his glass also.
“I’ll drink to that,” he said. “Cheers.” Both took sips from their glasses and then began to tuck into their food, chatting all the while.
After both of them were full from the food and flushed and giddy from the wine, they both stood and muttered, “Scourgify” while flicking their wands at the table. Instantly, the leftover food was in containers, the dishes were sparkling and stacked together, and the utensils were sorted into groups according to type (fork, knife, spoon, etc.).
Ron gestured for Hermione to come into the living room. He pulled out his wand, muttered, “Accio Present”, and caught a square, thin black box that zoomed out from underneath the Christmas tree. He sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside him, indicating for her to sit with him. She did, looking very excited.
Ron swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Happy Christmas, Hermione,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He handed her the box. ‘Please, please, please, PLEASE let her like it…’
Author’s Note: I think you should know the drill by now…REVIEW!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS OR IDEAS. THE ONLY THING I OWN IS THIS STORYLINE. BUT, HEY, I CAN DREAM, CAN’T I?