Title: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Characters/Pairings: Hermione Granger/George Weasley, Weasleys

Forum: The Golden Snitch
Challenge: Tree Lighting Ceremony
School/House: Mahoutokoro, House Mizu

Prompts: (word) popcorn, (object) tinsel, (object) mistletoe, (object) candy canes, (object) Christmas tree, (object) lights, (object) bells, (song) O Christmas Tree, (object) reindeer ornament, (object) wreath, (object) candles, (object) nativity scene, (object) Christmas spider, (object) stocking, (word) apples, (word) angel

Points: 90 (10 entry, 5/prompt x 16)

World: Post-Hogwarts AU
Word Count: 2,642

XXXX

Once, it had been her favorite time of year.

Christmas had really started when she flew off the Hogwarts Express and into her parents' arms and goggled at the decorations as they drove home. It ended, of course, Christmas night, curled up on the couch next to her parents, eating popcorn and sipping hot cocoa and watching 'A Muppet Christmas Carol,' which had supplanted 'It's a Wonderful Life' as their annual Christmas film her second year at Hogwarts. She never failed to fall asleep before the end, her mother whispering "Merry Christmas, Hermione," in her ear just before she drifted off.

The wizarding world had brought a whole new facet to the holidays as well, from the Yule Feast at Hogwarts to the magical appearance of gifts on her bed Christmas morning to the wizarding-specific songs and traditions.

She smiled, remembering Sirius's rendition of 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' her fifth year.

Then she frowned. Sirius was one of too many who should have been with them this holiday season. But he wasn't; so many of them weren't.

And that, of course, was why Christmas had become the worst time of the year.

XXXX

She stood back and surveyed her work.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had never been a shop characterized by subtlety, and their approach to Christmas decorations took the term 'flamboyancy' to new heights. Tinsel (Evanesco-proof, one sickle a bag) covered almost every available surface; mistletoe (charmed to prevent pairs from escaping until they kissed, two galleons a bunch) roamed everywhere; giant jars of candy canes (Kringle Kanes, which turned eaters into a Santa-look-alike until the treat was completely eaten, one sickle each).

The crowning achievement, however, was the almost four meter Christmas tree in the center of the shop. Hermione had charmed some old Christmas lights to run on magic, rather than electricity, and they lit up in time with whatever song was playing on the wireless in the shop. Each ornament (available for sale, of course) was also charmed accordingly: there was a miniature Hogwarts Express at the foot of the tree, chugging along anytime someone passed by; there was a dragon ornament that looked to breath fire (Hermione had insisted this was a safety hazard, so it was, in fact, not real fire); a set of bells that would chime to 'O Christmas Tree' when prompted; and a reindeer ornament that changed its action based on whichever reindeer name was spoken. (At "Dancer", the ornament would launch into a rendition of the Macarena, which confused purebloods but delighted Muggleborns and halfbloods to no end.)

It was all too much, which is exactly how George wanted it. Exhausted, both from work and from visual and auditory overload, Hermione called it a night and trudged upstairs.

She found her boyfriend sitting in front of the fireplace, nursing a glass of firewhisky. He was staring into the flames, lost in thought. He hadn't even looked up at her when she shut the door.

Her heart clenched and, after pouring a glass of her own, she curled up into his side.

"How ya doing?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "The flat's still in one piece, so I'd say better than last year."

She nodded and laced the fingers of her free hand through his. "The shop's decorated. I only cried twice."

He kissed her forehead. "Merlin, I love you." She could hear the relief in his voice.

She smiled. "I love you too."

XXXX

The next day, while George, Verity, and Ron manned the shop, she got to work on decorating the flat. She and George had agreed on a small, tabletop tree, decorated tastefully with fire-proof candles and a few meaningful ornaments from their childhoods. She put a simple wreath over the fireplace, where more people would be able to enjoy it; she and George were the only people who used the front door of their flat.

Underneath the wreath, she put out her heirloom nativity: a wood cut piece, left unpainted, that had been in her family for near a century.

"What is that?" asked George that night, spying the scene on the fireplace mantle.

"Jesus and the guys," Hermione said.

"Who?"

She explained the story of the nativity to George, finishing with, "and when I was young all I understood was that it was baby Jesus and a lot of other people, so I called it Jesus and the guys. The name stuck."

"You know wizards aren't religious, right?"

She shrugged. "Neither am I."

She didn't mention that it had taken her an hour to set up the twelve piece set: ten minutes for the actual arrangement, and fifty for the emotional breakdown she'd had before and after.

XXXX

"What the bloody hell is that?" cried Ron, eyes wide open in terror as he stared at the tree in the shop.

Hermione suppressed a grin. "Oh, Fido? He's a Christmas spider. Viktor sent me one for the holidays. It's supposed to bring you good luck in the new year. It's excellent charm work, don't you think? He seems so lifelike!"

Ron refused to look at the tree for the rest of the shift, a resolution made easier by the fact that his register line was never less than three people long.

XXXX

The rule was that they couldn't buy each other gifts that wouldn't fit in their stockings. Hermione had stipulated that they couldn't shrink their gifts, and George had demanded their would be no liberal use of wizard space to expand the insides of the stockings either.

George ended up with a pair of tickets to an upcoming Bats/Falcons match. She had written 'To be enjoyed with a non-Hermione friend of your choice' in the card, indicating that could be his gift to her.

It wasn't. He gifted her a simple locket, with a picture of her parents on one side. He had written 'I left the other side empty, in the expectation that you'll put a picture of your future family there someday.'

She spent the morning crying in his arms. She said they were tears of happiness, but they both knew that was a half-truth.

XXXX

They arrived at the Burrow, their smiles only slightly forced after their emotional the morning. Arthur was cuddling his first grandchild, Victoire, on the couch, while Fleur cooed over her daughter. Bill was talking with Harry, who had his arm thrown over Ginny's shoulders. When the redheaded girl spotted Hermione and George, she slipped her fiancé's grasp.

"Hey you two," she said brightly, engulfing them both in a hug. "Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks Gin," said George. "Can I interest you in a Christmas treat?" His eyes twinkled at her.

Ginny rolled hers in response. "I can't imagine anyone here will fall for that. We know you too well. C'mon, let me get you some eggnog before Mum finds you."

After making the rounds in the living room, including a big hug from both Harry and Ron, Hermione made her way to the kitchen.

"Hi Molly. Do you need any help?"

Molly Weasley was knee deep in her element, surrounded by a Christmas ham, giant bowls of vegetables, and more puddings than even her family could eat. "Hermione!" She enveloped the girl in a motherly hug, a huge smile on her face, compensating for the sadness in her blue eyes. It was a look that all of the Weasleys would wear at some point by the day's end.

Hermione drank in the smell of the woman. It was close, but it wasn't quite right. There was no hint of spearmint or cedar, nor was there the clean smell of antiseptic that neither of her parents could completely escape when they left the dental surgery at the end of each day.

She pushed down the hurt, though. Today was a happy day, a celebration. Everyone here had lost someone, and she wouldn't be the first to ruin the day with her tears.

"You look wonderful! Things aren't too busy at the shop? Where is George, anyway? It feels like we haven't see either of you in ages! I've got everything under control in here, sweetheart. Why don't you grab Ginny and set the table, hm?"

Before Hermione could answer, the timer on Molly's wand dinged and the woman turned back to her cooking. She was keeping busy so she wouldn't have to face the fact that Fred wasn't here. Hermione understood that. She and George had done the same thing, throwing themselves into the shop and their research.

She grabbed her friend and half-listened to the latest news about the Harpies as they set out the china and flatware. She also kept her eye on George, who was already on his second glass of eggnog and huddled in a corner with Charlie, who had Portkeyed in from Romania the day before.

She later overheard him whisper to Arthur, "I don't know who will crack first, but after last year I didn't want to leave you without reinforcements."

Last year, when Molly had absently asked George where Fred was when he arrived; when George had paused for a beat, and then disappeared back into the Floo and to his flat for the next two hours; when Molly had collapsed in tears and left the puddings to burn; when Percy had gotten so drunk he'd passed out at Christmas dinner; when Harry and Ron had dragged George, almost as drunk as Percy, back to the Burrow.

When Hermione had hidden in the bathroom three separate times to cry, wishing she was watching the stupid Muppet Christmas Carol with her parents.

XXXX

When she saw George go for a third glass of eggnog, she grabbed his hand. "Come with me?"

He nodded, and, casting a quick warming charm, she led him out to the orchard.

"How are you doing?" she asked, once they were a fair distance from the Burrow.

He shook his head. "He's everywhere. He may not be a ghost, but he's everywhere." He pointed to a seemingly-random tree in the orchard. "When we were seven, I fell out of that tree picking apples for Mum. It was his accidental magic, not mine, that saved me from breaking my neck." He pointed toward the stream that ran behind the orchard. "We swam in that stream almost every day in the summer. He taught Ron and Ginny to swim, did you know that? I never had the patience for it, but he… but Fred…"

And George broke down.

They sat in the orchard, and he cried into her chest while she stroked his head. He'd grown his hair long, like her fourth year, so it covered his missing ear. He was wearing this year's Weasley sweater—a dark navy—and smelled of brandy and peppermint.

"He's gone, Hermione," George whispered through choked sobs. "My brother is gone and it's been almost two years and every day it hurts like hell. I keep waiting for it to get better, and it's not. I miss him so bloody much."

She thought of her parents, of the letter from the Australian Ministry of Magic notifying her of their deaths, of the way the smallest things sent her spiraling into a vortex of grief.

"I know," she whispered, her fingers running through his hair. "I know."

XXXX

After the warming charms started to fail, they returned to the house, just in time for Christmas dinner. Percy was only slightly drunk, Molly was completely absorbed in her granddaughter, and George held tight to Hermione's hand.

Arthur stood and clinked his glass.

"On days like today, we celebrate the things we hold dearest: each other. I look around this table and can't help but to feel so much pride in this family. But even as we gather here, we can't help but feel at loss for those who are already gone." Arthur's eyes teared, but he did not cry. "So today we celebrate family and friends, both those at this table and those who we miss dearly. To family and friends."

Everyone raised their glasses, echoing, "To family and friends."

"To Sirius Black," said Harry quietly, remembering the only father he'd ever known.

"To Helen and Daniel Granger," Hermione muttered.

Everyone waited. It didn't feel right for it to come from anyone except him.

Finally, George whispered, "To Fred."

XXXX

It was almost 10pm before George and Hermione made it back to their flat. Percy did eventually pass out, as did Ron, from too much eggnog, although Hermione was pretty sure both were drinking straight brandy by the evening's end. The only other Weasleys who didn't stay the night at the Burrow were Bill, Fleur, and Victoire, who had Flood back to Shell Cottage immediately after dinner.

"I'll make some tea," said Hermione, heading toward the kitchen.

George held out a hand to stop her.

She looked back at him. "Do you not want tea?" she asked.

He smiled. "Will you teach me to make your special hot cocoa instead?"

She still hadn't figured out how to get a television to work in a magical household, so they sat together and watched the fire.

"Your dolls are weird," George finally said.

"You mean Jesus and the guys?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah. Like, why is there a naked baby on top of the barn?"

"It's an angel, George."

"Still weird," he said. He glanced down and wiped away a small mustache of cocoa that had accumulated on Hermione's upper lip. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, fishing around for the last marshmallow in her mug.

"For putting up with me this Christmas. For decorating the shop and making me tea and keeping me from retreating too far into myself this year. It hurts so much, but it hurts less when you're around."

She nodded. "I know. You keep me from getting lost in the memories."

"From getting lost in the past," said George in agreement. "He'd give us so much grief about being together. The prankster and the prefect."

"The prefect-turned-prankster," said Hermione. "I like to think he'd be proud of me."

George leaned down and kissed her. "Indubitably, Miss Granger." He pulled back, smirking. "Though he'd think your baby angel was weird too."

"He'd probably charm it to insult me or something," said Hermione.

"Or to throw cheesy one-liners at you," grinned George.

"I'm too tired to think of Christmas-themed sexual innuendos," moaned Hermione.

"If that was your way of asking me to go to bed with you, I'm convinced," said George, banishing their mugs to the kitchen.

XXXX

The next year, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes released its new Christmas topper: a wizard in maroon robes who shot Christmas-themed insults to passers-by. The charms were based off the Marauder's Map, tailoring the insults to each individual who passed. Hermione thought that was a fitting tribute to Fred and George's childhood heroes.

And though no customers could see it, underneath the pointy wizard hat on each tree-topper was a shock of Weasley-red hair.

It was that year's best selling Christmas item.

Hermione still cried when she put out Jesus and the guys that year. George still drank too much over the course of the season, and Percy still passed out drunk after the Weasley Christmas dinner.

But Ginny, now married to Harry, also announced her pregnancy, and Ron brought his new girlfriend, Vicky Frobisher, to Christmas dinner, and Charlie revealed his big promotion and transfer—back to Britain, to oversee the Welsh Green reserve.

And before Christmas pudding, George clinked his glass, garnering everyone's attention. He toasted to his family, and to those who had been with them through the hardest years of their lives. Then he got down on one knee and asked Hermione to start a family with him.

She said yes, of course, and no one mistook her tears for anything but tears of joy.

Christmas still wasn't her favorite time of year, but it also wasn't the worst. Not anymore.