Chapter Text
Dear Fred,
I’ve discovered a new hobby. If I tell you what it is do you promise not to laugh? Okay, I’ve taken up bird watching. Stop! I told you not to laugh! Yes, I know it’s something nans and granddads do, but I’ve found it’s really interesting and calming. Australia has a lot of beautiful birds. I got a bird feeder to put in the back garden so Crooks and I can sit and watch them through the back patio door. Though, Crooks is a bit put out that I won’t let him out to play with all the new feathery friends. Every now and then he’ll look back at me with the most pitiful look on his smooshed face.
I got a letter from Harry yesterday saying that Ginny was moving in with him. How is your mum handling that? I can’t imagine she’s too pleased about it. Is she holding her tongue or kicking up a fuss. I hope if it’s the latter then it’s not too much of a fuss because those two deserve some happiness. And it’s not like she won’t still have Ron there to dote on. She’ll probably have to kick him out to get rid of him.
The holidays are coming up and I’m unsure if I’m going to decorate or not. My aunt sent some of our Christmas stuff but it feels wrong to put up family heirlooms with no family to enjoy them with. Christina invited me to spend Christmas day with her and her family. I told her I’d be there and I’m going to make myself go so that I don’t feel like a complete Scrooge. I really wish there was a reason to hang my own mistletoe though.
All my love,
Hermione
“She doesn’t think I’ve read her letters,” Fred said when George entered the shop.
“Who doesn’t what now?” George asked, shrugging on his shop robes.
“Hermione. We were talking last night and I don’t think she realizes that I’ve actually been reading the letters she wrote to me.”
“What gives you that idea?”
Fred filled his twin in on the events of the previous night as they got the shop ready for the day. As he was restocking the snack boxes, there was a knock on the door. He looked up and found Mickey hopping from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together, as snow flurries swirled around him. When he opened the door, he caught a glimpse of Hermione’s assistant, Nico, picking up the gift he had left.
Mickey stomped his feet on the front mat and brushed the flakes from his hair. “I heard this morning that this is only a preview of what we’ll get tomorrow night,” he said, glancing out as Fred shut the door.
“Hey there, Mick. How’s it going?” George called.
“Good, mate, good. Last day of classes and then we break for the hols. How’re you guys?” Mickey replied, following Fred to the counter.
“Busy as always. Where’re you two off out to?”
“Back to the library,” Fred said, pulling on his coat and scarf. “Won’t be long. I know exactly what I need. I just need Mickey’s credit card because it’s not something I can go pay cash for.”
“What’s a credit card?” George asked, shooting Fred a bemused look.
“It’s this little plastic card that works like a mobile bank.” Fred looked at Mickey for affirmation on his explanation. Mickey shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “I’ll have him explain it better when I get back.”
He and Mickey started for the door when Fred suddenly stopped and clapped Mickey on the shoulder. “Give me a mo, mate. I need to dash up and get something from the flat.”
Fred dashed back through the employee’s only part and up the steps to his flat. In his bedroom, he pulled a box from under his bed and flipped through the stack of Hermione’s letters. He knew exactly which one he was looking for. He had read it several times. Tucking it in his pocket, he ran back down and said goodbye to George.
“Are all these gifts for the same person?” Mickey asked after they had apparated and started their walk to the library.
“Yeah.”
“A girl?”
“Am I that obvious?” Fred laughed.
“A little bit. I did much of the same when I was trying to charm my boyfriend. Leaving sweet little gifts, hoping he got the meaning.”
“How do you know she isn’t already my girlfriend?” Fred argued, side-eyeing Mickey with a smirk.
“You ain’t ever mentioned her and I ain’t ever seen you with a woman, so I assumed you were still in the wooing stage,” Mickey explained, returning the smirk.
“You assumed correctly. Honestly, it’s three years overdue. I’m holding out hope that I get a second chance.” Fred carded a hand through his hair and let out a frosty breath. “So, how long did it take to charm your boyfriend?”
Mickey laughed. “He caught on after the third gift, I think. Didn’t let me know until the fifth, though, the twat. Oh, he sends his thanks for the snack boxes the other day. He and my mum are very happy I’ll be home for Christmas Eve.”
At the library, Fred checked himself onto a computer while the lady at the desk kept a keen eye on Mickey. Fred pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, along with the letter from Hermione. He pulled up the webpage for his next gift and Mickey typed in his credit card number at the checkout page.
“Thanks so much, mate,” Fred said, passing Mickey some muggle money and then going to get his purchase certificate from the printer. When he got back, he unfolded Hermione’s letter and asked, “If I type in song lyrics, will the computer tell me who sung them?”
“Yeah, of course. What lyrics you searchin’ for?” Mickey sat forward and looked at the words Fred pointed at in the letter. He smiled and said, “Yeah, if you type in that first line it should come up with the song and band it belongs to.
Fred typed out the line and as Mickey had said it would, the band and a picture of their album popped onto the screen.
“Odd name for a band,” he muttered as he wrote down the information.
A half-hour later, he and Mickey left a nearby record shop and Fred was set for his final secret Santa gifts.
Dear Fred,
Guess what I got to do today? Nope, not even close! Well, I assume it’s not close. I shouldn’t assume though because I know your mind travels down some very strange paths...Okay, way off topic now. I got to hold a koala! It turns out Christina is studying to be a zoologist and is interning at the Koala Park Sanctuary. Today she took me on a tour of the park and I got to feed and hold a koala! It was so cute! Don’t worry, I didn’t smuggle one home. Crooks would not have been happy with that. I did take a bunch of pictures though and developed them right away. I’m tucking one of me and my new koala friend in this letter so you can confirm and admire his cuteness. Also, hopefully, it helps cheer you up a little. Ginny wrote that you’ve been really down lately. I’m sorry that I can’t be there to help. It must be a relief to be getting out of the hospital though! I’m sure being back in your own space will help with the mental healing that’s still going on.
If you’re still not ready to write back, I completely understand. I’m sorry if my previous letters have come off needy or pressuring. It’s the last thing I want to heap on you. So, whenever you’re ready, I will be patiently waiting right here. Miss you!
All my love,
Hermione
Hermione let herself into her flat and immediately went to the stove to start boiling a pan of milk for hot cocoa. She finally had a chance to sit and peruse her gift from the previous day and wanted to sit out on the balcony for a bit before it was buried in the imminent snowstorm.
As she poured the milk into the saucepan, Clara fluttered and hooted above her head.
“What has you all excited?” Hermione laughed, setting the carton back in the refrigerator. “I hope you got out a bit today because I don’t think you’ll be wanting to go anywhere tomorrow.”
After she set the burner temperature, Hermione turned and saw what had made her little owl so excited. That day’s secret Santa gift was sitting on the table.
This one wasn’t wrapped. It was a stuffed koala with an envelope tied to its paws. The envelope simply said ‘ On the seventh day of Christmas… ’ She tore open the envelope and pulled out a piece of tri-folded paper.
Unfolding the paper, Hermione smiled as she read aloud, “Certificate of adoption. This is to certify that Hermione Granger adopted Lismore Myrtle. Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie, New South Wales, Australia.” On the right side of the paper was a color picture of a koala sitting in a tree.
“Look Crooks,” Hermione said, bending down to the ginger cat weaving around her legs and pointing to the koala picture. “You have a new adopted sister.”
“Merow,” Crookshanks crooned, rubbing his head against the paper.
“Sorry, buddy. You can’t play with her.”
She scratched his fluffy head and went to hang the certificate on the refrigerator. Taking a step back, she grinned. This gift solidified her assumption that her secret Santa was indeed Harry. Everything she had been gifted had been things she wrote home about- something she had enjoyed in Australia or missed from England.
With a steaming mug of hot chocolate, Hermione gathered her blanket and the book about birds she had received, along with a pair of binoculars, the previous day. It had been inventory night and she didn’t get to read any of it then, so she was nerdily excited to finally have the chance to sit down and have a proper look. She didn’t get to read long though before a familiar voice got her attention.
“Whatcha readin’ tonight?”
Hermione looked up and saw Fred leaning against the railing of his balcony. She held up her new book and he smirked.
“Collins BTO Guide to British Birds,” Fred read out loud. “Ron could really use a copy of that. His love life has been in the dumps for a while now.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and set the book in her lap. “What brings you out here on this frosty eve?”
“Saw you out here and thought I'd come say hi. Sorry if I interrupted.”
“You’re not interrupting. It’s nice getting these surprise chats. I live beside you now and feel like I barely see you. Would you like to come over? I have hot cocoa and comfy chairs.”
“Sold. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Fred disappeared into his flat and Hermione went to heat up more milk. She was just putting a dollop of whipped cream on his drink when there was a knock at her door.
“Hi,” she greeted, handing him the mug.
“Hi. Your place looks great,” Fred said, stepping in and looking around. “Very cozy and Christmassy.” He took a tentative sip and wandered over to her tiny Christmas tree. He touched the glowing star on top and commented, “Your tree seems to be missing a gnome.”
Hermione laughed. “I thought about it but tradition won out. That’s the tree topper that’s been on our tree since I was born.”
Fred gave her a sad smile. “How have you been holding up without them?”
Tears instantly sprung to Hermione’s eyes but she blinked them away. “Um, okay for the most part. It’s going to sound bad but I’ve gotten used to it. This will be what? The third or fourth Christmas I’ll be on my own for.”
“You know you’re not on your own,” Fred said.
Hermione smiled and nodded. “I know and I’m so happy to spend the holidays with all my favorite people. It’s just hard to acknowledge when a certain chapter of your life comes to a close.” She let out a long sigh and looked down at the stormy grey stone on her ring. “If I’m being honest, that chapter should have closed years ago when I altered my parents’ memories. I’ve just been refusing to read the last page.”
Against her will, a tear slipped out and streaked down her cheek. Fred set down his drink and wrapped her in a hug. Giving in to her sadness, Hermione buried her face in his sweater and sobbed. Fred didn’t say anything. He just held her and let her cry out all the feelings she had been trying to avoid for so long.
And Merlin, it felt so right! Standing there, wrapped in Fred’s arms, was exactly where she wanted and needed to be. She had been denying and pushing back her feelings for him for so long, trying to put up a happy, friendly facade. But she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.
So she let out a few extra tears in mourning for what she could’ve had with Fred. What she should’ve had...
After a minute, Fred ran a hand over her hair and said softly, “You know there’s an upside to closing a chapter.” When Hermione let out a questioning hum, he continued, “Now you get to start a brand new chapter or a whole new book.” He pulled back and looked down at her. “In your case, I think you’re at the start of writing your own novel.”
Hermione let out a watery laugh as she sniffled and swiped the tears from her eyes. “Thanks, Fred. I’ve been needing that moment of weakness.”
Fred grinned and grazed his thumb over the tear tracks on her cheek. “Hermione Granger, weak? Impossible”
Hermione gazed up into his warm brown eyes and felt like she could melt right into him. “I’m glad you’re part of my novel.”
Fred went to speak but Hermione held up a finger and shushed him. She swore she could hear music but didn’t have the radio playing.
“Do you hear that?” she whispered.
Fred tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Sounds like it’s coming from outside.”
He followed as she opened the balcony door and the music grew louder. Fat, fluffy flakes had started to fall and there was already a coating of snow on the deck and railings. Colorful fairy lights and the glow of candles in the windows made the small town feel even more magical.
“Carolers,” Fred said, pointing up the street.
Hermione followed his gaze and saw what appeared to be about a dozen people, bundled up in heavy cloaks and thick scarves, slowly making their way down the empty cobbled street as they sang.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on,
Your troubles will be out of sight
The two stood and listened to the slightly off-key, yet soothing, singing as the carolers strolled down the street. For a minute or two, Hermione did let her heart be light; and standing there with Fred by her side, she felt warm despite the snow piling up at her feet. When Fred’s hand came up to cover hers, she caught a glint of purple swirling in her ring.
Through the years
We all will be together
If the fates allow
So hang a shining star
Upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas, now
That was the first she had noticed the gemstone turning purple, but it made perfect sense. She had been acknowledging and letting go of her other feelings. Maybe it was time to do it with her love for Fred Wesley.
“You’re smiling too much. What did you get up to last night?”
Fred looked up from the supply catalog and into the skeptical face of his twin and continued to grin. “Can’t a man just be happy because it’s Christmas?”
“She’s enjoying your gifts, isn’t she?”
Fred nodded.
“Still doesn’t think it’s you?”
“She’s dead set on Harry,” Fred laughed. He closed the catalog and tossed it under the counter.
“This still doesn’t explain why you can’t stop grinning like a fool.” Fred started to answer but George cut him off with, “Besides the fact that you are a fool.”
“She invited me over for hot chocolate last night.”
“Hot chocolate? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Shut it,” Fred laughed. “She invited me over, made hot chocolate, and, after a group of carolers passed by, she popped popcorn and we watched a Christmas film.”
“How did she get a telly to work in Diagon Alley?” George asked. “Half the reason I moved out of here was so we could have cable.”
“She’s Hermione and she’s brilliant.” Fred shrugged at his brother’s unconvinced look. “She told me how she got it working but it was very technical and I couldn’t begin to explain it properly.”
“She is a very clever witch,” George conceded. He went to open the door and called over his shoulder, “You plan on telling her you actually did read the letters?”
“She’ll figure it out with gift number eleven.”
“Miss Granger,” Nico called, knocking on Hermione’s door. “You have a very insistent visitor.”
Hermione sighed and looked up from her ledger. When she saw who was standing beside Nico her face immediately lit up and she jumped from her chair.
“Harry!” she cried, wrapping her best friend in a hug. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Guess who finally sweet-talked his way off the midnight shift?” Harry said with a smile.
“We’re going to go ahead and close up for lunch,” Nico said, turning to head back to the floor.
“Thanks, Nico. And stop calling me Miss Granger!” She called after them.
“We’ll see,” they called back.
Harry sat down in the seat beside Hermione’s desk, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Make yourself at home,” Hermione said, giving his trainer a kick as she sat back down.
“Thanks. Any plans for lunch?” Harry asked, exploring the items on her desk.
“Leftovers in my flat.”
“Ooh, sounds exquisite. Could I tempt you away from that for a meal with me at The Leaky Cauldron?”
“I could be swayed. Let me finish balancing these numbers.”
Harry picked up the new, leather-bound planner on her desk and flipped it open. “See, right here it says ‘ 12:30- Lunch with The Chosen One ’,” he said, pointing to the page.
“Really? I thought it said ‘ 12:30- Lunch with a disillusioned auror ’?”
Hermione smirked when Harry’s lips quirked in annoyance and he looked up at her. “Well, it does now. How’d you do that?”
The agenda had been her ninth secret Santa gift. It wasn’t just a normal agenda that you wrote down appointments and memos in. It linked to the owner’s magical signature so that the witch or wizard had a hands and quill-free dictation tool that could translate any language, even Gobbledegook.
“You don’t have to play dumb if you don’t want to. I’ve figured it out.” Hermione said with a wink.
“But playing dumb is all I’ve got, ‘Mione!” Harry said dramatically. “Seriously though, I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s a very useful gift, especially for you who tends to think and speak faster than the average human being.”
Hermione just smiled and nodded as she finished her adding. She didn’t think Harry would spill the beans that easy but she was certain that if he wasn’t her secret Santa then he definitely had a hand in helping Ginny choose gifts.
“The agenda was my secret Santa gift today. Yesterday’s was that picture,” Hermione said, pointing to a framed caricature drawing of Crookshanks chasing birds around a garden.
“Oh, wow, that’s so well done,” Harry said, hopping up and going over to inspect the picture more closely. “I’ve been getting various items of dragonhide attire. I think it’s safe to assume Charlie pulled my name.”
“Even I would place a sizable bet on that one,” Hermione chuckled. She filled in her final numbers and closed the ledger. “And done. Ready?”
Harry grabbed her coat from the hook on the back of the door and tossed it to her. “Yes. I’m starving! I’m hoping Tom has treacle tart on the menu.”
“Because your mother-in-law won’t be making you any in three days?”
“One can never have too much treacle tart.”