Author: George Weasley's Girlfriend
 
Title: Mistletoe
 
Rating: PG.  There's nothing bad in here, but writing a G-rated 
fic makes my skin crawl.
 
Disclaimers:  Ron & Hermione belong to Ms. J. K. 
Rowling (who is hard at work at HP5) and the sprig of 
mistletoe belongs to me.  Not that I need it to get 
George to kiss me, but it makes for very interesting... 
::clears throat::  Well, you don't need to know about 
that.  ::turns red and scurries off::
 
Author's Note:  Thanks to my betas: Lady Christina and 
Krystyn Poe! This fic is pointless, PWPish and not even that well 
written.  Admire my beta readers' patience.  Oh, and does 
anyone remember the exact place in the canon (most likely GoF) 
where Ron exclaims: "Damn it!"  I'm positive I saw this and I 
think it was in regards to the class schedules, but I can't for the 
life of me figure out where it is.  Help please?  Oh and if the 
reviewer "Good Omens" reads this (who also reviewed The Real 
George Weasley), you didn't leave your e-mail so I'm hoping 
you'll read this...  Anyway, if you really want to know how the 
narrator saved her family, check out Singing in the Shower.
 
Mistletoe
 
"Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't 
mean no one else spotted I'm a girl!" -Hermione Granger, Harry 
Potter and the Goblet of Fire
 
"Oh, honestly, Ron, can't you do anything right?"  Hermione 
threw her hands up in exasperation as she surveyed her best 
friend's zigzagged hanging of fairy lights.
 
"Would you like to come up here and do it yourself, 
Hermione?" Ron asked impatiently.  "Because I can 
think of loads of better ways to spend my Saturday 
afternoon than to stand on a stupid ladder to hang up 
stupid decorations for a stupid holiday!"  As Ron 
descended from the ladder, Hermione planted her hands 
on her hips and glared at him.
 
"Christmas most certainly is not a stupid holiday," she argued.  
She bent over and picked up the next string of fairy lights, then 
shoved the end in Ron's face.  "You're just upset because Snape 
gave us both detention for something you did!"
 
"Fine then!" Ron said furiously as he snatched the lights 
from her and began to climb the ladder.  "Next time 
Malfoy calls you a name, I should just sit back and allow 
him then, shall I?"  He pulled a small hammer out of the 
tool belt he had been forced to wear and a nail out of a 
pocket and began hammering away, muttering about 
Snape and how he'd taken Ron and Hermione's wands 
away temporarily so they couldn't hang the decorations 
with magic.
 
"Your fight with him wasn't even about that!  You're just angry 
because you heard Parvati Patil say he was better looking than 
you are during Charms!"  Ron whirled on the step he was on and 
matched her glare.
 
"How would you know?  You were too busy talking to Harry 
about some stupid spell you learned in McGonagall's class to 
know wha-"
 
"Professor McGonagall, Ron," Hermione reminded him firmly in a 
scathing voice.
 
"See?  There you go on again, being a know-it-all!"  He turned 
and went up two more steps and nailed a few more nails into 
the frame of the entrance leading out of the Great Hall and into 
the entry hall.  "Well, let me ask you this, then?  If you're such a 
know-it-all, how come we've got detention and have to hang up 
all the Christmas decorations in the Great Hall without magic?"
 
"Because you got into a fight with Malfoy and dragged me into 
it!"  Ron turned around and gaped down at her, mouth hanging 
open like a fish.
 
"Me?  Drag you into it?  Oh, you've got a lot of nerve, Hermione 
Granger!"  He spun back around and finished the one edge of 
the doorway.  Hermione stomped off to a seat at the Gryffindor 
table, crossed her arms and fumed.  She pretended not to watch 
Ron huffing as he clanged down the ladder and then ignored 
him as he took it in his arms, swung it a meter to the left, and 
planted it firmly on the ground.  With a defiant glare in her 
general direction, he knelt down and picked up a small sprig of 
mistletoe.  He stomped back up the steps and placed the 
mistletoe right at the top of the arch.
 
Muttering under his breath, Ron pulled out the hammer and a 
nail.  With his tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth, he placed 
the nail carefully and aimed the hammer.  BAM!
 
"DAMN IT!"  Hermione's head lifted abruptly just in time to see 
Ron tumble off the ladder and land on the hard floor with a 
sickening thud.
 
"Ron!" she cried out involuntarily, standing quickly.  Tripping 
over the bottom hem of her school robes, she rushed to him and 
dropped ungracefully to her knees at his side.  "Ron, can you 
hear me?" she whispered, brushing his flaming red hair off of his 
forehead.  She winced as she saw a small cut above his left 
eyebrow.
 
"Her- Hermione?" Ron murmured as he tried to raise himself up 
on an elbow.
 
"Don't talk, Ron," Hermione said quickly, putting a finger over 
his lips.  "And don't try to move either."  She reached into her 
robes and pulled out a small container of Healing Cream.  Ron's 
pale blue eyes fixed steadily on her as she gently rubbed a tiny 
plop on the boy's cut.  For some reason, it made her nervous to 
be the object of his full attention; yet it was a nice nervousness.  
Exhilarating, almost.
 
Slowly, the cut began to shrink and finally disappeared with a 
tiny pop.  There was a tiny scar left behind but it wasn't 
noticeable to the untrained eye.
 
"Does anything else hurt?" Hermione asked, looking him over 
with careful eyes.  Almost like a child showing his wounded knee 
to his mother, Ron showed her his injured finger.  Instead of 
making a rude comment on how he was a baby for letting it get 
to him, she tenderly took his hand in hers and examined it.
 
"Ow," Ron protested, sucking in a sharp breath as she prodded 
the swollen area with her finger.  She rubbed another small 
amount on it and watched carefully as the area's red color faded 
and returned to normal size.
 
"Is it better now?" Hermione asked gently, vaguely aware that 
her hand was still on Ron's temple with her fingers tangled in his 
fiery hair.  Ron nodded solemnly, meeting her eyes and raising 
himself on his elbows.  He saw his eyes dart upwards to the arch 
of the Great Hall's entryway.  Hermione looked upwards to see a 
tiny sprig of mistletoe hanging just above them, swaying 
innocently.
 
As Fleur would say... "Zee End!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~