Fandom One-Shots

Secret Santa 2018

for strangelydrstrange who coincidentally wrote a one shot for me. hope you like it, and sorry it took so long!

"Where are they?" Mrs Weasley complained as she paced around the kitchen.

"I'm sure they're just running a bit late, s'all," Ron said, rubbing a hand behind his head. He knew what was going on but he swore to keep it a secret. Of course, he complained, tell the worst secret keeper in the world to keep something secret. What a great idea.

His mum sighed and run a hand through her greying hair. "Well, whatever it is, I hope they come soon. It's almost time to light the tree!"

"Already? It's barely six, Mum!" Ron whinged. Molly shot him a hard look. "I mean, we haven't even had dinner yet!"

"Not another peep out of you, Ronald Weasley. Now out! I have to finish dinner." Ron grumbled under his breath but walked out, intending to meet Hermione and his siblings and their significant others in the living room.

He had barely walked in before he was bombarded with people.

"Ronald, can you please tell your brother to get his head out of his arse and say that I'm right?" Hermione gave him an expectant look.

"She must mean business if she curses," George joked. Hermione shot him a cold glare and he put his hands up in surrender.

"What did I just walk into," Ron sighed.

"An argument, brother dear," Charlie chimed in sweetly.

"Bugger off," Ron emphasizes with a flick of his wrist. Charlie laughed and went back to conversing with Bill, who chuckled at the interaction.

"George here is trying to tell me that dementors don't actually suck you soul- they just act like it to keep up a persona, and that they're actually quite friendly if you get to know them. I'm trying to get through his thick skull that he's wrong." Hermione has her arms folded against her chest and was tapping a foot impatiently as Ron processed what the girl had said.

"Uh, George, mate," he started, "I know firsthand what dementors do, and that's suck your soul. Sorry, but you're not gonna win this time."

To his surprise George just grinned. "Oh, I already have, Ronnniekins. Seeing your little girlfriend all fired up was enough of a win."

Hermione gasped. "George Weasley!" The man in question gave her an innocent look.

"Yes?" He inquired. Hermione didn't say anything for a second, instead staring at him before swatting his shoulder. "Ow! What the fuck was that?!"

"Language!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. All the people in the room looked up in surprise.

"How does she bloody do that?" Charlie asked rhetorically. Bill and Ron shrugged while Hermione looked as though she wanted to figure it out, all other feuds and conversations forgotten. Everyone continued on with their lives, whilst Ron was starting to worry. What was taking Harry so long? Was he okay? And Ginny, was she alright? Did something happen? It wasn't until hours later when he would find out, and by then people were starting to notice that something was wrong.

"Ronald," his Mum started, "what's got you in a tizzy? You look like someone just died!" The boy in question turned to face his mother, trying to think up a lie.

"I just um, don't feel well, 's all." Ron grabbed his stomach for emphasis. "Ate some bad chicken last night that's starting to disagree with me."

Hermione tutted. "I told you not to eat it, but did you listen?"