AN: Funny little story, I meant to post this on Christmas day because I thought it would be cute, but I got behind and that didn't happen :/ Oh well, I hope you enjoy anyway :)

Chapter Eleven

Ron straightened the Auror's Certification on the sitting room wall for about the hundredth time that day—and it was only nine in the morning. But he couldn't help it. He wanted everything to be perfect for when Harry and Hermione got here. They were finally going to see what a success he'd made of himself. He wanted to tell Harry, specifically, that they would be working in the same division come February.

His two friends didn't know that he'd passed his tests with flying colors—so much that his supervisor couldn't wait to move him up. They also didn't know that he'd started his own recreational Quidditch league, which was gaining popularity rather quickly. Nor did they know that he was learning to play the guitar—he couldn't remember how or why he started it, but he actually had quite an unexpected penchant for music.

Yes, he was so happy with his life that it was almost criminal. Except there was one thing missing. And that thing was a person. An incredibly smart person with bushy hair and beautiful brown eyes.

Trying to kiss her at the ceremony in May had obviously been a mistake, because they hadn't talked since then. However, he was planning to fix that today, when she came over for Christmas dinner. He wanted to talk about—rather, apologize for—what had happened, and then, if she still had no interest in him, he would forget about her for good.

At least, he would try.

...

"Harry, do I look all right?" Hermione asked, twirling around.

"Of course you do. The past four outfits you've tried on have also looked all right. Are you ready now?"

"Ugh, no! You're obligated to say that. I need an objective opinion."

"What you need is to choose something to wear. Come on, Cupcake, you're not usually like this."

"I know!" Hermione moaned. "I just want to look nice. We haven't seen the Weasleys since May, after all."

Harry shook his head. "I'm so lucky I'm not a girl."

"You have no idea." Hermione pulled her dress over her head and reached into the closet for a new one. "But anyway, I want to talk to you about something before we go over there."

"Yeah?"

"We have to tell them. Today."

"No! I mean... It's Christmas. You don't want to ruin the holiday, do you?"

Hermione, who had been looking at herself in the mirror, lifted her eyes and met the reflection of Harry's. "That's what you said last time: that you didn't want to ruin the celebration. Well, guess what? The longer we wait, the worse it will get. Come on. I don't want to lie to them anymore. What are you so afraid of?"

Harry sat down on the bed. "I don't want to lose Ron and Ginny as friends. I'm afraid if we tell them, they'll never want to talk to us again."

"Oh, Harry, I don't think that will happen." Hermione sat down next to him. "We grew up together. It would take a lot to lose such long-term friendships. Just trust me, okay? I love you—"

"And I love you too—"

"—so they can't be too mad at us. If they were in requited love, would they want someone holding them back?"

"I guess not..."

"So they have to understand."

Harry wasn't so sure about that. The last time he'd checked, Ginny loved him, and Ron loved Hermione, and he was pretty sure that both of them would consider his relationship with Hermione the biggest betrayal on the planet. But he was willing to take a chance on his friends—for them, for Hermione, and for himself.

"Ugh!" Hermione groaned at her reflection. She reached down to take off yet another dress.

"No, keep that one," Harry said. "I like it. And I'm not just saying that because I want to leave. Honest. You look good in red."

Hermione grinned widely, Harry extended his hand, and together they Apparated to the Burrow.

They landed in the front yard, ankle-deep in snow. Hermione lifted her foot up and groaned. "Let's get inside; the snow will ruin my heels. It's already seeping through my tights."

"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten so dressed up, then."

"I had to. It's Christmas."

"You just wanted Ron to see you looking all hot."

"I... No!" she sputtered indignantly.

"Relax, I'm only joking." Harry reached down in one swift movement and picked her up. "Here, let me carry you and your fancy shoes to safety." Once on the front steps, Harry set her down and rang the doorbell.

Hermione pretended to swoon, faking a Southern Belle accent. "Oh my dear Mr. Sprinkles, never have I seen a man with such valiant courage and strength as your own. What ever would I do without you?"

"All in a day's work, Miss," Harry played along. "But I will require some form of recompense..."

Just as Hermione was leaning in to kiss him, the door opened. There stood Ginny, looking beautiful as ever in a white strapless dress with rhinestones zigzagging down the sides. She smiled warmly and tucked a lock of her elaborately curled hair behind her ear. Hermione instinctively touched the twist on the back of her own head; she couldn't help but wish she'd left her hair down, seeing how nice Ginny's looked.

No... it was silly to be jealous, really. She was the one living with Harry. She was the one he loved... right? Of course. Nothing should make her doubt that. Not even the fact that Ginny looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.

To push the negative thoughts out of her head, she threw her arms around Ginny. "Hi! How are you, Gin? You look great."

"Thanks! You too." They both accepted a friendly kiss on the cheek from each other, and then Hermione went inside.

Harry sighed as he watched her go. "Hey Ginny," he said, opening his arms for a hug. Ginny held him tight, and he suddenly became very nervous. But, remembering his conversation with Hermione, he cleared his throat. "Umm... Ginny, there's something we have to talk about..."

"Oh, not right now, everyone's dying to see you. Later, though, okay?"

He was about to agree, but then Hermione's voice replayed in his head: The longer we wait, the worse it will get. "No, Gin. Right now."

"But—"

"Come on in, you guys. It's cold out here." Another voice spoke. Harry looked up to find Marcus, Ginny's boyfriend. At least, he supposed they were still dating, or else why would he be here?

"You're right, babe, let's go inside." Ginny linked hands with Marcus, and they made their way toward the kitchen. The fact that Ginny was already seeing someone should have made Harry less nervous about exposing his relationship with Hermione, but for some reason it just filled him with even more dread.

While Marcus and Ginny veered off toward the kitchen, he decided to join Ron and Hermione in the living room. They were both standing over by the far wall.

"That's good for you, Ron, I'm so proud of you!" he heard Hermione saying. She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, and Harry instantly flashed back to his two best friends out on the dance floor, him trying to move in on her. That wouldn't have happened if Ron had known...

"What's good for you?" Harry asked, shaking his head.

Ron pointed to the wall. "I earned my Auror's Certification! And I'm getting promoted in February, when one of the senior officers retires. We'll be working in the same division!"

Harry's face broke into a smile. "Nice one, mate." He thumped his friend on the back. "That's great news!"

"Maybe this means we're all going to see each other more often," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows at Harry.

"Oh yeah, mate, there's something we have to tell you—"

"Harry, dear!"

He didn't even have to turn around to recognize Molly Weasley's voice. Exhaling sharply, he caught Hermione's eye and shot her a look that said, I'm trying.

She nodded and rolled her eyes, which Harry took to mean, I know.

"Why are you so skinny, darling? I swear, you lose more weight every time I see you." Mrs. Weasley grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to face her. "Are you sure you're doing all right on your own? Getting enough food? You know, of course, you can always come back here if you ever need anything."

"I know, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you." Harry forced a smile as he was greeted by all the other Weasleys. After he'd been properly hugged and clapped on the back, he went to find Hermione. She stood alone by the coat closet, leaning up against the wall.

"This might be a bit harder than we thought," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it will be. Look, let's split up. You take Ginny and I'll take Ron. It might make things a bit awkward, but we have to do this."

Harry paused, thinking of the look on Ron's face after Hermione had kissed him on the cheek. "Umm... could I talk to Ron and you talk to Ginny? I think that'll be easier."

"All right, then." A moment later, Ginny and George walked past. "Hey, Gin, can we go up to your room for a second?" Hermione asked.

"Sure," she chirped, having no idea what was coming.

Finding Ron was a bit more difficult. Harry had to extract him from the middle of a conversation. "This had better be important," he grumbled as he followed Harry all the way up to his attic bedroom.

"It's so important. You have no idea."

Down on the second floor, Hermione sat in Ginny's desk chair as Ginny lounged across the bed, playing with an old Snitch. Hermione smiled; the action reminded her of Harry... Oh, right, she was in here for a reason.

"So, Ginny, how are things with you and Marcus going?"

Stop stalling, she scolded herself internally.

I'm not stalling. I'm leading into it slowly.

Whatever.

"Great. Marcus is awesome. He comes to all my Quidditch games, and Mum and Dad love him. I couldn't be happier, really."

Hermione couldn't tell if Ginny was lying. She probably wasn't, though. Why shouldn't Ginny be happy with Marcus? And, for that matter, why shouldn't Hermione be happy with Harry? A newfound confidence coming over her, she opened her mouth to finally tell the truth.

"That's wonderful, because—"

The door to Ginny's bedroom opened with a bang, and George and Charlie ran inside. "Come on, Ginny, we're gonna play a game of Quidditch," George said. "Let's go get Harry and Ron! And Hermione, you can play too, if you want."

Hermione just sat there, her mouth hanging open. Why had they chosen this exact moment to get together a game?

Marcus appeared at the door as well. "You coming, Gin?"

"Can you guys wait just a moment? Ginny and I were having a conversation."

"Oh no, it's okay Hermione, we can talk later." Ginny's eyes were shining excitedly, and she was already rummaging through her dresser to find something else to wear.

"You don't even have fourteen players," Hermione pointed out.

"We'll do three-on-three," Charlie said. "Unless you and Percy want to play."

Hermione couldn't imagine Percy Weasley ever wanting to play Quidditch. He liked to watch it, but the thought of him on a broomstick was almost laughable. Although, she didn't think she could have laughed at the funniest thing in the world right now, because she was too exasperated. Couldn't they have waited just a minute? That's all it would have taken, was sixty seconds.

When Hermione looked up, Ginny was already wearing trousers, boots, and a sweater, and her pretty curled hair was up in a ponytail.

"We can talk later, Hermione," Ginny assured her, before running out of the room and up the stairs.

Harry and Ron had just gotten settled in Ron's room. Harry didn't know what to do. Should he just say the words? Hermione and I are dating. But whenever he tried, they just got caught in his throat. What was dating, exactly? They'd never really been on a date. Hermione and I are seeing each other. That could easily be misconstrued. Hermione and I are going out. What was this, junior high?

Just do it.

When the door opened, Harry didn't know if he should be relieved or disappointed. George, Charlie, Marcus, and Ginny came in and started pulling Harry and Ron out of their seats.

"Come on, you guys," Ginny said. "We're gonna play a game of Quidditch."

All thoughts of what Harry had to do instantly left his head at the mention of Quidditch. "Yeah, let's go. Ron, do you have anything I can change into?"

Ron was a step ahead of him and had already tossed him some casual clothes. Harry started to change, thinking, If only I'd brought my Firebolt.

That made him remember Hermione, and he scolded himself for being so easily distracted. "Hey, before we go, mate, can I—?"

"It's just one game, Harry. Whatever you want to tell me can wait until after."

Ron was right, Harry figured. It could wait. He felt a little guilty, especially as he walked past Ginny's room, where Hermione was standing in the door frame. She incredulously watched him walk past. What are you doing? she mouthed.

Just one game, he replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed them downstairs, but instead of going outside, she went into the living room where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting with Bill, Fleur, and Percy. She made small talk with them for over an hour while waiting for Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Did Quidditch games usually last this long? Eventually she was able to forget about them and enjoy the company of the Weasleys.

After what seemed like an eternity, the six of them came back inside, their faces red from the cold.

"Good, there you all are," Mrs. Weasley said. "Get washed up; supper's almost ready."

Hermione sighed. Would they ever get to tell Ron and Ginny?

When they all sat down at the table, she was put between Harry and Ron. Of course it would happen like that, the way her luck was going today. After everyone was settled and eating, she whispered in Harry's ear, "After dinner. Promise?"

"Promise."

"What's going on over there?" Marcus teased, from his seat next to Ginny across the table. Ginny raised her eyebrows and giggled.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said. "We were just commenting on how cute you two look, with your matching clothes."

Ginny looked down at her white dress and Marcus's white shirt. "That's too funny. You guys look pretty cute yourselves—Hermione wearing red, Harry wearing green. Very... festive."

Ron turned to look at them, and Hermione sighed. She'd meant to get the attention away from herself and Harry, but that had backfired.

After dinner, while the dishes washed themselves, Harry stood by the coat closet with Hermione, trying to calm her down.

"It's fine, okay? We didn't even realize it. And anyway, in a few minutes they're going to know all about us, and it's okay for couples to wear matching clothes, right? Isn't it supposed to be cute or something?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes, you're right. Let's find them and get this over with. We're going to have to leave in an hour or two."

"PRESENTS!" Mrs. Weasley called from the living room.

Ginny, Marcus, Ron, and George came stampeding down the stairs like little children. "After we open presents, I suppose."

Harry and Hermione followed everyone else into the living room and sat down.

"Aren't gifts traditionally opened on Christmas morning?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, dear, but we were waiting for you two," Mrs. Weasley replied, as though it should have been obvious.

"That was very thoughtful; thank you."

Harry began to worry a bit. He leaned over and whispered, "Cupcake, we forgot to get them presents—"

"No we didn't," Hermione replied. "I took care of it."

"Merlin, what would I do without you?"

"You'd learn to deal with being considered a very rude person."

Harry snorted, causing Ron to look over at him. He suddenly became less interested in whispered conversations with Hermione and more interested in his gifts.

The day was passing quickly; they were going to have to leave soon, and they hadn't told Ron and Ginny yet. It was becoming more difficult still, because once all the gifts were opened, Ginny and Marcus totally disappeared.

"Mother of—"

"Hermione, calm down. I'll talk to Ron, okay? If we don't find Ginny before we have to go, I'm sure he'll tell her."

She nodded and opened up the book she'd received from Ron.

Ron was just standing up. "How is it?" he asked her.

"I only started it now."

"Oh. Right."

Hermione smiled. "It looks interesting, though. Thank you again. How did you know I'd be interested in the magical revolution of Russia?"

"Just a guess."

"Hey, Ron, can we talk for a minute?" Harry cut in.

"'Course we can, mate. Wanna go up to my room?"

"Sure."

He took one last look at Hermione before they started walking upstairs. She was already engrossed in that book. It was because of her that he was doing this, really. He loved her with all his heart, and he wanted everyone to know. He didn't want it to be a secret. He wanted to match clothes with her shamelessly, and he wanted people to come over to their house for dinner—and some time in the future he even wanted Ron and Ginny to be in their wedding. It was great to not have to hide anything in front of Hermione's parents, who were already like his family; he didn't want to have to hide anything in front of the Weasleys, his other family, either.

"God, Hermione's so great," Ron said, once Harry had shut the door to his bedroom. He started to get a bit irritated. Who was Ron to call Harry's girlfriend great?

"Well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"I totally blew my chance with her a few years ago, but she seemed fine tonight, eh? I wonder if she'd ever—"

"RON! Stop it. You and Hermione will never be together."

Harry's hand flew to his mouth. He didn't mean to say it that harshly, but hearing Ron talk about Hermione like he still had some sort of claim over her—like she had secretly loved him all this time—just made him so angry.

Ron seemed to snap out of his dreamy state. "Oh, won't we? And why is that?"

"Look, I'm sorry for saying it like that, but just because you had a thing with her, like, two years ago, doesn't mean that now—"

At this, Ron stood up. "You don't think I'm good enough for her, do you? You think she deserves someone 'special'? Well, guess what? I'm just as special as you. I'm just as special as anyone! I passed my Auror exam top of my class! I founded the most popular recreational Quidditch league in Britain. My boss promoted me straight to the top, because that's how special I am. You mean to tell me I'm not good enough for Hermione? I worked my arse off to be good enough for Hermione. And guess what? I am."

Harry realized, a little too late, that he'd hit a sore spot with Ron. He'd always fought with his brothers for attention, and he'd gone unnoticed by his parents through most of school. Now that he'd made something of himself, here was Harry, his supposed best friend, telling him that he still wasn't good enough.

"Ron, I'm sorry. I feel awful; that's not what I meant at all—"

"Well, it's what you said, isn't it?"

"No, I—"

"Just get out of here."

"Ron!"

"Leave! And don't come back."

"Fine."

Harry was halfway down the stairs, when Ron called to him: "Oh, and take Hermione with you. I don't want someone around who thinks I'm unworthy."

The bedroom door slammed shut.

Harry's legs shook as he walked down the stairs. "Mione, you ready to go?" he asked softly as he entered the living room.

She closed her book and stared at him. "What happened?"

"Let's just go," Harry whispered. "I'll tell you at home."

As they said goodbye to everyone (except Ginny and Marcus, who still had yet to be found) Harry felt a pinch behind his eyes. What if Ron told his family what had happened? Harry would lose the first family he'd ever had. He'd already lost one of his best friends.

He made sure to hug all the Weasleys extra tightly, just in case this was the last goodbye.

Once back at home, Harry sat down on the sofa, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. Hermione saw this and sat with him, their arms around each other.

"Do you want to talk about it later?" she asked gently.

"What's there to talk about? I didn't even get to tell Ron."

"You... Wait, what? I think there's plenty to talk about. What happened?"

"He started talking about you like you two still had a chance of getting together, and I got mad, and he thought I was saying he wasn't worthy of you, and..."

"Oh." Hermione understood Ron's self-confidence issues perfectly and didn't have any trouble deducing what had happened from there. "Well, it'll be okay."

Harry shook his head. "He told me not to come back."

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment, and then she, too, started to cry.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," she said.