Hermione reached into the nearly empty paper-towel lined cardboard box on the coffee table and pulled out the last ornament. Walking over, she surveyed the large pine tree, looking for the perfect place to hang it. Finding an empty space near the top, she stood on tiptoe and gently wrapped the gold string around the branch. Stepping back, Hermione watched the multi-colored lights from the tree bounce and reflect off of and through the clear glass ball. The flying angel with outspread arms and wings smiled benevolently down at her from its perch atop the glass globe. Hermione smiled, sighing softly as she remembered the Christmas she'd been given that ornament. Her fifth year at Hogwarts, if she recalled...

"Hermione, what is it? You're fidgeting. Stop it," Ron told her with a slightly bemused, slightly annoyed look.

Hermione blinked at him. "I'm not fidgeting. I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. You look as though you'd go through the roof if someone tapped your shoulder," Ron replied, taking a bite of his eggs.

Hermione sighed and lay down her fork. "I guess I'm anxious about the Potions test."

Ron gagged, choking on his breakfast. Harry shot Hermione a confused look as he pounded Ron's back. Ron grabbed the pumpkin juice and when he could breathe he said desperately, "We don't have a Potions test. Not today!" He looked anxiously from one friend to another. "Do we?"

"Ron," Harry said worriedly, "why do you think we've been studying all week?"

Ron looked blankly at them before slapping his forehead angrily. His rather rude tirade was drowned out by the sound of flapping wings as the owls arrived.

A large brown owl landed on the table next to Hermione's plate, bearing a small box wrapped in Christmas paper and a letter. Hermione glanced at Ron and Harry, waiting for them to interrogate her about the package. Instead they were leaning over a letter that a strange owl had brought. Hermione bit her lip, torn between wanting to read her own letter and hear what Harry's letter, presumably from Sirius, said. Realizing that Harry would probably let her see it later, she tucked the box carefully into her bag and opened her letter.

Hermione folded the letter, smiling as she tucked it into her bag. Looking at her watch, she gasped slightly and packed her things up, grabbing a piece of toast. Ron and Harry were gathering their things, talking in quiet tones. Harry handed Hermione his letter when they made their way to their classes.

"We've got Divination, so you can give it back in Transfiguration," Harry said, looking anxiously around him. "Come on, Ron. We'll study in class. We can tell her the stars told us to," he said sarcastically.

Arithmancy seemed especially long that day, which made Hermione dread Potions even more. She couldn't wait to get up to her room and check on the angel. All morning and all through lunch and Arithmancy she'd been especially aware of her bag and what happened to it. All she had to do now was make it through her Potions test and she was home free.

She heard rather than saw the group of students in the corridor leading to Snape's dungeon classroom. Hermione recognized the voice of a third year Gryffindor and turned the corner, ready to break up a fight. Before she could register the scene before her, someone slammed into her and they both fell to the ground, banging against the stone wall.

The wind knocked out of her, Hermione managed to gasp out the name of the girl who had fallen with her. "Julia!" she cried and immediately gasped, seeing the contents of her bag strewn about them.

"Oh, Hermione!" Julia cried, tears in her eyes as she began to help gather up Hermione's things. "I'm sorry! They pushed me, I-"

Hermione cut her off with a short wave, glaring at the smug-looking group of Slytherin third years with her best I'm-a-prefect;be-scared look and snapped, "Get to class!"

They laughed and ran off. Hermione sighed deeply as she stood, brushing off her robe. Helping Julia up, Hermione smiled as best she could and said, "Go to class and tell your Professor what happened. You don't have Snape, so you'll be fine. I'll take care of it."

Julia muttered another apology and ran off, leaving Hermione standing in the corridor. Her heart plummeted into her stomach when she suddenly remembered the angel. Before she could check it, Parvati came racing around the corner.

She looked surprised and grabbed Hermione's arm, dragging her down the hall with her as she said, "Hermione! Well, at least I don't have to walk in late alone. Besides, since you're a prefect and I'm with you, he can't take away too many points, can he?" Parvati stopped babbling when they came to the door to the Potions classroom. She smoothed her robe and hair and entered the room. Hermione followed with a sigh.

As Hermione slid into her seat between Ron and Harry, Professor Snape looked up from passing out the tests and said coldly, "Miss Granger, Miss Patil, you're late. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ron nudged her with his elbow and whispered, "That's nothing. We're still ahead of Slytherin by about fifty points. Christmas break must be putting him in a good mood."

"Weasley." Snape snapped angrily. "Do you have something to share or would you rather I just take twenty more points from Gryffindor?"

Ron's ears went red and he sunk into his seat, muttering, "No. That's all right." When Snape turned his back on them, Ron began muttering something under his breath about 'idiotic professors' and 'bloody tests'; Hermione thought she heard something about Christmas, but she was preoccupied. She struggled through the test, not focusing entirely on her work.

After class, the three began heading towards the Great Hall, oddly silent until Ron cleared his throat and said wonderingly, "Was it me or was that... easy?"

Harry laughed. "I told you! You knew the stuff, Ron, you just needed some last minute help."

Ron grinned lopsidedly. "Maybe. I can't believe you actually convinced Trelawney that you read in the stars that she would let us have a study session. You were brilliant, Harry! Especially since it was cloudy last night."

Harry shrugged. "I just told her that, well, she's much better at that sort of thing than I am and she fell for it."

Ron shook his head as they entered the Great hall and made their way to the table. "Well, it helped. I know I got that last question wrong, but it shouldn't hurt too much, right?" he asked, then groaned. "Of course it will. This is Snape we're talking about. The whole bloody grade's probably based on that last ruddy question we didn't have enough time to finish! I knew he was in much too good a mood. Talk about Merry Christmas!"

Ginny stood up, moving her bishop to take a pawn as she did so. She sighed when Ron's queen took her bishop and shrugged, saying, "I'm going to go find Hermione. She's been gone a really long time."

"Not really," Harry said, glancing at a clock. "Only since about quarter past."

"Well," Ginny said, "It's quarter of now, and I think it's time for the customary argument over whether we do homework now or wait to do it."

Ron made a face. "Why bother? Harry and I always win and we wind up doing everything the day before classes start again. Besides, we're still playing."

"You're winning, Ron. You always win," Ginny exclaimed. "Humor me, okay? It's a tradition."

Ron shrugged. "Whatever. Checkmate."

Ginny made a noise and called "See?" over her shoulder as she headed up the stairwell to the girl's dorms. She knocked on the door to the fifth year's room and when there was no response, she pushed open the door and entered anyway.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, hesitantly approaching the bed. "What's wrong?" Ginny knelt next to the bed, touching her friend's shoulder gently.

Hermione was lying across her bed, her head resting in her arms as she tried not to cry or to at least stop. She gulped hard, trying to wipe her face. She gave Ginny a feeble smile. "It's nothing, really." Hermione sniffled, sitting and wiping her face before wrapping her arms around her knees.

Ginny climbed onto the bed next to her and rolled her eyes. "Hermione, it can't be nothing if you've been crying for the past half-hour."

Hermione sighed. "It's silly."

"No, it isn't."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know what's wrong yet."

"So try me."

Hermione sighed and reached over to grab the small box sitting on her night-table. she handed the beat-up box to Ginny, letting her look at the shattered remains of the ornament within. "It was my grandmother's," she explained sadly. "We used to help her decorate her tree every year when I was little, but she died this summer. This was my favorite ornament, and she gave it to me. My mum sent it and I got it this morning, but I broke it."

Ginny gaped at the box and frowned, patting Hermione's shoulder. "How?"

Hermione sighed, wiping her face before shakily telling Ginny about the fight in the hallway. "But I didn't get a chance to look at it until we got back because I had to take the Potions test and go to the Great Hall for the feast." She took a shaky breath and smiled at Ginny. "I'm being silly."

Ginny shook her head, picking up the piece that had been the angel's wings. "What did it look like?"

Hermione picked up the face of the angel. "It was a glass globe that this really pretty angel lay on top of. She was flying and Mum called it a guardian angel, but Gram always said it was her Christmas Angel." She sighed again, putting the piece back. "I know it's silly, because it's just a silly Christmas ornament."

Ginny put the box back on the table and rubbed Hermione's arm. "It's not just a silly ornament. It's not silly at all. Really!" she cried when Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's got sentimental value." She hesitated for a moment, thinking, "Well, Bill calls it semi-mental value."

Hermione laughed and Ginny grinned at her. "Maybe-"

She was cut off by pounding on the door. "Hermione, Ginny, c'mon! It's snowing!" Fred called through the door.

"Yeah and it's time for us to beat you youngsters like last year," George added.

"You lost last year, George!" Ginny cried, jumping up and grabbing Hermione's arm. "Let's go pelt my brother's with snow, okay?"

Later that night, after drying out and warming up after the rather disastrous (for all parts) snowball fight, Harry yawned after winning his third straight game of Exploding Snap. He looked around the empty common room and suppressed another yawn, saying, "Well, I think I'm ready to drop, so I'm going to bed. You coming, Ron?"

Ron nodded, gathering together the cards. "I'll be up in a bit. I'm just going to put all this away. You go on up."

Harry smiled sleepily, standing and heading for the stairs. "Night."

"Night," Ron called, crumpling up the chocolate frog wrappers and empty Bertie Bott's bag.

"Night," Ginny called distractedly from the corner table.

Ron frowned in her direction, having forgotten that she was there. He put the pack of cards on the bookshelf and went over to his sister, sitting next to her. "Hey, Gin."

"Aren't you going to bed, Ron?" she asked, covering a yawn.

Ron laughed. "Maybe you should go to bed. What are you doing?"

Ginny groaned. "An essay for Snape. I figured I'd start it now and then I won't have to worry about it later."

Ron reached over and lifted up the cover of her book. "Then why are you using your Charms book?"

"What? Oh!" Ginny grabbed a book on the other side of the table, opening it to show Ron the notes she'd taken. "I *was* working on my essay. See?"

"Yes, I see. Now please close that before I forget that we're on vacation."

Ginny shook her head in amusement. "Well, I'm looking for something to help fix Hermione's angel."

"Her what?!"

Ginny sighed. "Well, you remember before the snowball fight, Hermione disappeared for about half an hour?"

"Uh-huh. I mean, it's not like I counted the minutes or anything, but I guess so. Why?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "When I went to get her, she was crying."

Ron started, looking at Ginny incredulously. "Hermione? Crying? Why? Wha- Why?"

Ginny suppressed the urge to laugh at her brother and instead told him about the angel ornament and what Hermione had said. "She was so upset, Ron; she kept telling me how silly it was, but it's not. That angel's got sentimental value."

"Semi-mental," Ron muttered, ignoring the look Ginny gave him. "Where is it?"

Ginny handed him the box that he hadn't noticed in the middle of the table. Removing the lid, Ron winced. "Wow," he muttered.

"Hermione told me that I could try to fix it if I wanted- I asked her," Ginny explained. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I can't figure out how."

Ron gently fingered the pieces in the box, not seeing the expectantly hopeful look Ginny gave him. "Ginny, do you think she'd mind if I tried to figure it out?"

Ginny stood, yawning widely. "Nope. Just wait til morning; it's way too late now. I'm going to bed."

"Yeah," Ron murmured, picking the ceramic angel pieces out of the glass. "Night."

Before going upstairs, Ginny called over her shoulder. "If you fix it, you can give it to her for Christmas. Night, Ron."

The next evening, Ron stood outside the entrance to Gryffindor's common room. "What do you mean, the password's changed?" he asked incredulously.

The Fat Lady shrugged and Ron heaved a sigh. "Fine. Never mind that I've only been in Gryffindor for five years. What about... Merry Christmas?"

"No."

"Happy Holidays?"

"Try again."

Ron glared, beginning to recite every password he could remember. When none of them worked, he kicked the wall in frustration and cried, "Bloody Hell!"

To his surprise, the portrait swung open. "Fred! George!" he yelled, climbing through.

"They aren't here," Ginny said, pulling on mittens as she came down the stairs from her room. "It's snowing again and they want a rematch. They've been out there awhile and I think they're hexing snowballs again."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll be down soon. Where's Hermione?"

"In her room. Did you fix it?" Ginny asked, pointing to the box he was carrying.

"Fix what?" Harry asked, entering the common room and pulling on his cloak.

Ron rolled her eyes. "Fine. But when you leave, make sure the password's changed back to 'Deck the Halls', would you? Fred and George changed it."

"To what?" Harry asked, opening the portrait hole.

Ron, already on the stairs, shook his head. "You don't want to know."

They heard Ron groan and say, "Well, Bloody Hell," before the portrait swung shut. Harry waited for Ginny to persuade the Fat Lady to change back the password before giving her a reproaching look. "Ginny."

She looked up at him innocently. "Yes?"

"You know perfectly well how to fix something like that ornament. It's one of the first things Professor Flitwick teaches us. Not to mention that Charms is your best subject."

Ginny shrugged and smiled slyly. "I know. I also know who's responsible for that mistletoe. Harry. Good one, by the way."

Harry laughed. "Touché. And thanks."

Ron took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Hermione's dorm.

"Come in," she called and mentally berating himself, Ron did so. "Hey," he said.

Hermione looked up from where she was digging through her trunk. "Hi Ron. I'm trying to find my gloves. I had them yesterday, though, so I don't understand it."

Ron glanced around and picked up a pair of red gloves off of one of the night-stands. Since Hermione was the only one staying for the holidays, he held them up and asked, "These?"

Hermione looked up and laughed. "There they are! I don't know what I was thinking."

"Um, Hermione?" Ron asked uncertainly, shuffling his feet. "I have something for you."

Hermione frowned. "But it's not even Christmas Eve."

Ron shrugged. "It's not really a gift."

Hermione sat on her bed and Ron sat next to her, handing her the box. She eyed him suspiciously as she opened it. When she saw the ornament, she gasped and almost dropped the box. "Oh my gosh, Ron! How- when..." Her hands trembled as she took it out of the box and held it by it's string before her. "Ron..."

Ron shrugged, embarrassed. "Well, Ginny told me what happened and that she couldn't figure out how to fix it, so I tried."

"Ron-"

Ron interrupted. "I went to Professor Flitwick and he helped me put a charm on it so it won't break. Well, I mean it will if you really want it to, but if you drop it or something, it won't. And-"

"Ron," Hermione interrupted, touching his arm. "Stop babbling."

Ron shrugged, turning an interesting shade of pink. "Sorry," he muttered.

"No," Hermione said anxiously. "It's all right, really. I just... Ron, I don't know what to say."

Ron shrugged, nodding towards the ornament. "Does it look right?"

Hermione smiled, biting her lip to keep from crying. "It's perfect. It's exactly how I remember it. Ron-"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. Julia, the only girl from third year or under who'd stayed, peeked around the door. "Hey, guys. There's a massive snowball fight going on by Hagrid's hut."

Ron rolled her eyes. "I know. It's my brothers."

"No," Julia protested, grinning. "Every one's out there. Even Dumbledore and McGonagall! And someone's enchanted some snowballs to follow Malfoy and hit the back of his head."

Ron laughed. Hermione tried not to as she said, "We'll be right down."

Julia nodded and started to leave, but paused and laughed. "Oh, Ron. Look up. You've found Harry's mistletoe."

Ron looked up and glared at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above his head. "Ah, Bl- Harry?!" he cried, looking at Julia.

Julia giggled. "I think he was trying to get even with Fred for the snowball fight yesterday. It followed him around for twenty minutes until he got one of the Ravenclaw girls to kiss him. See you down there, then?"

Hermione nodded and when Julia had left, turned to Ron, trying not to laugh at the scowl on his face. She touched his arm and said quietly, "Thank you, Ron."

Ron shrugged. "It's not that big a deal."

Hermione shook her head. "Yes, it is. It means a lot to me. Thank you."

Ron smiled at her. "You're welcome." he stood up, pulling Hermione up as well. "Come on, let's go."

Hermione bit her lip. "Uh, Ron," she said in amusement. She pointed up at the ceiling, where the mistletoe was slowly trailing him.

Ron sighed, an annoyed and tired expression on his face. Hermione stifled a laugh and stood on tiptoe to quickly kiss his cheek and be rid of the mistletoe, but Ron looked back at her when her sudden movement caught the corner of his eye- her peck on the cheek became a peck on the mouth.

They both started, jumping involuntarily away from each other and looked at one another for a moment before Hermione began laughing. "Well, that should make you happy," she told the mistletoe, still laughing. She turned to Ron. "Shall we go down, then?"

Ron smiled slowly at her. "You head out. I'll be there, but I have to get my cloak."

Hermione nodded, putting a hand on the doorknob. She hesitated and suddenly gave Ron a quick hug. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron smiled at her. "Merry Christmas."

Now, all these years later, Hermione looked over to where Ron was sitting amongst boxes of Christmas decorations, unwrapping a nativity scene and handing the pieces to their five-year-old daughter, Katie. The first Weasley in several generations without red hair, she had inherited her mother's looks and her father's eyes and personality. Katie was now setting up the nativity very creatively on top of the bookcase, telling Ron why the shepards and wise men shouldn't be in the stable yet. Hermione half-listened with a smile until a tug on her sleeve interrupted her wandering thoughts.

Hermione smiled and picked up her two-year-old son Alexander. Alex rested his head on her shoulder and she swayed back and forth, recognizing his quiet, clingy mood. "Someone's getting tired, huh, Al?" she asked, brushing his red curls off of his forehead.

Alex shook his head and pointed to the bookcase with the half-set up nativity scene. (Katie had abandoned the project and dragged Ron across the room to unpack the Santa Claus display for on top of the piano.) "Baby," he said.

Hermione smiled at him. "That's right, sweetheart."

Alex snuggled closer to her and patted her belly with his small hand. "Babies," he said, looking up at her with hopeful blue eyes.

Hermione laughed and hugged her son. "Right! You're so smart." Alex put his head back down on her shoulder and yawned.

As Hermione rocked him and looked across the room, she caught Ron's eye. He looked frazzled as Katie dragged him towards yet another box, but smiled at her. She called to him, "Thank you, Ron."

He smiled at her. "Merry Christmas."