Christmas

She woke up the morning of Christmas with a heavy heart. She lay in bed gazing at the ceiling, pondering the multitude of tragic possibilities that could happen. Her parents, the Weasleys, and she had asked Severus to join them at the end of their London date. She could just see everything falling to pieces before her very eyes. And if Ginny brought Draco, lord save them all. This dinner was going to be a disaster.

Loud thuds echoed above her head and she knew that Ron was awake. He was running around his room for some reason, probably searching for the t-shirt that he was already wearing. She smiled at the image of familiarity.

The pipes rattled and water began running, flowing to the shower that was most likely occupied by Ginny, a veteran of living with six brothers, she knew to get in there early or she would never get to use the bathroom. A low singing voice began to fill halls, and her assumption was proved right.

Screams of delight were ringing throughout the house as the grandchildren made their way to the Christmas tree, eager to see what the mysterious Santa Claus had brought them overnight.

The clanging of pots and pans noted Molly's normal presence in the kitchen, beginning the largest meal of the year. The backdoor slamming shut mixed with clanging, and Arthur was probably making his way out back to fix up the yard.

She heaved a sigh and shoved the covers down the bed, climbing out and stretching as she stood up. Her eyes glanced out the window, and she noticed the falling snow. A perfect Christmas day. Fresh snow, friends, and family, she couldn't ask for anything else. A smile crept across her face. Okay, maybe she could ask for one more thing.

When she had dressed, she made her way downstairs. As she passed the living room, Victoire and Teddy pounced on her. The children were so eager for Christmas that they couldn't stand still for a second. They danced around her in circles, asking her what she wanted for Christmas and what she had gotten them for presents. She smiled at them and bent down to their level, pulling them together in front of her.

"First of all, Merry Christmas to you too. Second of all, I will be perfectly happy with whatever anyone got me for a present. Third of all, I am not telling you what you got because that would ruin the surprise. You will simply have to wait." Her statement was met with twin groans, and then they were off again, running around the house, screaming Christmas carols at the tops of their lungs. She shook her head at their antics and made her way into the kitchen. Molly was bustling about in her usual busy fashion.

"Molly, do you need any help?"

"Oh, dear, of course not. Sit down. Would you like a cuppa?"

"Yes, please. Thank you. Oh, and Happy Christmas!" she said as she gave Molly a hug and was enveloped in loving arms.

"Happy Christmas, dear. And may it be a happy one in deed."

"It will be. Have no fears." Hermione sat down at the kitchen table, holding the mug in her hands, the heat seeping through her skin and warming both inside and out. She sat there simply watching Molly move around the kitchen with precision and perfect movements. Nothing was forgotten and she never misstepped once. It was as if she were on a track that was moving her around. The sounds of the rest of the Wealseys moving about upstairs filled the kitchen, the room that took the brunt of the noise. Hermione looked down at her watch and drank the rest of her tea quickly, placing the cup in the sink when she was done. She kissed Molly on the cheek.

"I have to go get my parents. We should be back soon. Don't start without us. Oh, and Molly," she said, wringing her hands in an un-Hermione-like nervous fashion. Molly glanced sideways at her from the stove and stopped stirring the pot that she was working over.

"What is it, dear?"

"I invited someone else to join us. I figured it would be okay since you are always saying the more the merrier, but I didn't want to completely spring him on you. So I thought I would let you know beforehand."

"That is perfectly all right. The more the merrier is certainly right. Do I know this man?" she questioned, searching for a sign of anything on the younger girl's face.

"Yes. It's Severus. He has no one to spend today with. I didn't want him to be alone. And I knew you wouldn't either."

"Well, as always, you are right again. I don't want that dear man to be alone on Christmas, and he is most welcome here anytime he wishes to visit. Now, run along and collect your parents. I assume that Severus will be finding his own way here. Make sure you are bundled up; it is snowing out. You don't want to catch a cold."

Hermione grabbed her coat and scarf and made her way into the backyard, Apparating away to her parents' home.

She landed on the street in front of the tiny cottage that her parents had purchased when they had returned from Australia. It sat on the edge of a forest area, so it was relatively secluded and safe for her to pop in whenever she wanted to.

She looked at the cottage, and a small frown covered her face. It wasn't her home. They had sold her childhood home and bought this. She knew they had just wanted a change of scenery, but a small niggling part of her felt that it was their way of trying to distance themselves from her.

Her feet pulled her forward, moving up the path towards the small little home. Lights shone through the windows, and she knew they were awake. Lifting her hand, she knocked on the wooden door and waited for them to answer the door.

A muffled voice said something and the shuffling of feet preceded the opening of the door. Her mother's smiling face looked up at her and her father was standing in the background, a similar smile on his face.

"Hermione, dear. We have missed you so. You never come see us anymore," she said as she pulled her slightly shocked daughter into the house. "I mean we know you are busy with work, but can't you make anytime to come and visit us?" She gave her daughter a big hug, passing her onto her father. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, then held her at arms' length, taking a look at her.

"You look good, Frizz," he said, using his pet name for her.

"Dad," she groaned in embarrassment. "Don't call me that. And what in the world is going on? Why are you two being so congenial and loving? What happened? What's wrong?" she questioned, terrified that something was wrong. Her parents hadn't been like this since before she had erased their memories.

"Nothing is wrong, dear. We, well, we need to talk. Come, sit down." Her mother moved to the couch and patted the spot next to her. Hermione made her way cautiously over to the couch and sat down.

"Okay, see the thing is... we... you know we love you very much, right?" Hermione didn't respond.

"Right?" Her mother asked a little bit more persistent. Hermione gave a weak nod.

"See, that right there. Your inability to see that we still love you. We never stopped loving you. We never will stop loving you. Yes, we were upset that you erased our memories without consulting us first. Yes, we were upset, but we got over it. You are the one who has been hanging onto it. You have been clutching the guilt you felt over doing something that you knew was wrong but that you knew you had to do. And while we were upset, we understand your motives and why you had to do it. Now, you need to let go of the guilt that you feel. You have nothing to feel guilty over." Anne grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and squeezed her. "There is nothing. Let it go. Release it. We have, and you should too. It will help you, I promise."

Hermione looked into her mother's familiar brown eyes. All she saw was love and sincerity. They really did forgive her, then why did it seem as if they were still mad at her? Was it really all in her mind? Just a guilty conscience? It would make sense. She looked at her father, sitting on the coffee table next to her. He reached out his hand and brushed it down her head, ruffling her hair like he always had when she was growing up.

"We love you, Frizz. Never doubt that. If nothing else in this world is for sure, our love for you is a one hundred percent sure thing, and you can take that to the bank."

"Oh, Dad," she groaned at his cliché statement.

"Your father is right, sweetheart. We do love you, no matter what." Hermione looked at both her parents, the love they had for her written across their faces. She was surprised that she had missed it for the past several years. It seemed so obvious, but guilt could do that to a person. She gave her Mom a tight hug, releasing her guilt with that simple gesture of love. Then she hugged her Dad, repeating the release and feeling good about her relationship with her parents, finally, for the first time since the Australia incident.

"Now, we better get back to The Burrow before Molly flips a gasket over us not being there," Anne said as she stood up and moved to grab her coat.

"Yes, we definitely should. I'm sure the kids have already torn apart their presents, well, the kids and Ron." Her parents chuckled at the added quip at her redheaded best friend. They made their way outside, and she Apparated them back to The Burrow, everyone arriving in one piece, no missing fingers or eyebrows or chunks of hair.