Work Text:
Title: A Kiss for Santa
Rating: T
For: Fluff for the one and only angst queen reallybeth
Tags: None!!
Rose Jean Granger-Weasley was daddy’s girl all the way. Red hair, freckled face, long nose, and the biggest fan girl of everything her daddy did. Hermione figured this out quite early; Rose is upset → get daddy. While it did frustrate Hermione that Rose didn’t listen to her instructions until Ron re-voiced them, it was also a great joy watching her husband dress up extra silly to get laughs out of her or talk in his little baby voice to placate her tantrums. At 10, she was a wild girl who was just as opinionated and stubborn as her parents, with a disdain for anything that stood in the way of her small feet.
Hugo, on the other hand, was a bit more impartial with his affection and needs. Both of his creators soothed and fascinated him equally. He was far less of a roller coaster than Rose was. He was no easy baby, but his tantrums were predictable. And as he grew into the cutest 8 year old they had ever laid eyes on, he was growing more into a personality that made them endlessly proud.
Ron and Hermione would never claim that their children were saints; those gremlin-spawns of theirs caused enough chaos to never give them a moment of shared peace. The two fought amongst each other constantly, their quarrels over trivial issues was a new insight into sibling dynamics that Hermione had not been privy to earlier - it was scary to witness at times.
What was really scary though was when they joined forces together. A united front of Rose and Hugo was the worst offense against anything that Ron and Hermione had determined. Both their eyes reflected, lived again in each child, their puffy faces, chin wrinkled and lips curled down - anyone who denied that image probably had a block of ice for a heart. It was a blessing that their children had not figured out the pattern and weaponised it… yet.
So this year, when they both wanted a pet dog, they had no option but to adopt a dog. Perhaps if they had known that it would cause this ruckus, they would’ve been firmer in their stance.
-- — --
“Ho Ho H- cough cough, Merlin, our fireplace needs dusting.”
Every year they did this, and every year Hermione was just as taken aback by the image of Ron in a Santa Clause costume. What kind of Santa Claus had freckles? Her Santa did apparently.
“Does the beard have to stay on? It itches!” Ron could not stop scratching along the edges of the straps that held the fake white fluff onto his face.
Hermione just rolled her eyes at him, he knew the answer. This weird muggle tradition of theirs was important to them, and Hermione suspected he looked forward to it more than she did. It wasn’t even a serious tradition, just something Ron did as a joke when they were still dating, but it got such a wholesome laugh out of Hermione that she requested it be carried out each year. After the kids were born, she even took pretend-sneak pictures of Santa dropping off the presents and feasting on cookies, careful to hide the face and red hair. She normally wouldn’t want to convince the kids of hoaxes like a Santa Claus, but this was some harmless fun. She was pretty sure the children had already figured out that Santa was not real, perhaps the tradition didn't need to continue but she liked the fun in her life too much to let it go.
“Cookies came out good this year, did you put more chocolate in them?”
“I did, actually, thought I’d let you have a special treat for walking Shakes early every morning.” She laid her head down on Ron’s shoulders and they watched the fire together for a while.
“I love getting to do this with you,” Hermione said as she looked up at him.
“Santa loves it too.” Ron reassured with a grin and raised eyebrows.
“Santa is getting too cheesy.” Her small laugh rang loud in his ears, it was his favorite sound in the world.
He placed his hand around her waist and pulled her closer, seeking more contact and her signature warmth. He couldn’t help but place a kiss on her hair.
“Kiss me properly, Santa!” Hermione tilted her face up and Ron didn’t waste a second in capturing her lips.
WOOF WOOF
Shakes let out a series of barks loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood and Ron and Hermione separated, stunned.
“Shakes, shush, you’re going to wake the kids!”
“TOO LATE FOR THAT!” A small Rose stood at the end of the stairs, her frown reminding Ron of how a young Hermione looked when she was furious at him.
“MOMMY! YOU KISSED SANTA!” Hugo’s accusation was no softer than Rose’s yell, and Ron and Hermione had to stop themselves from laughing.
Shakes was barking at them nonstop now, and Hugo was at Santa’s feet throwing his small fists at his knees. Hermione couldn’t resist, she broke out into raucous laughter.
“Honey, Rose, I’m not Santa, I’m daddy, see!”
Ron had to lower the beard and remove his hat. Rose and Hugo’s eyes widened cartoonishly. Rose’s brain was mapping all the connections, and the moment it clicked, Ron knew he was in for a long period of repentance.
But it was Hugo who yelled first to break the silence, the realisation being shared between the siblings.
“THAT IS NOT FUNNY DADDY!” Hugo yelled to fill in the silence, his ears an adorable red and his eyebrows frowning, “Even Shakes doesn’t think it’s funny.” He walked up to the dog, almost half his size, and picked him up with great effort. He walked them both up to his room, leaving a furious Rose behind.
“Shakes is just a silly puppy,” Ron muttered, chuckling to himself at the cuteness of his kids’ aggression.
“That is Sir Shakespeare David Granger-Weasley to you!” Rose snapped. “You don’t get to call him ‘Shakes’ anymore!” With that, she too stormed off upstairs.
Ron slumped back down next to Hermione, laying his head on her lap. “She’s so much like you that it frightens me sometimes.”
Hermione smiled adoringly at him for a few moments before pecking him on the nose.
“And that is exactly why I know that you’ll win her over in no time.”