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SIYE Time:10:56 on 29th March 2024
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Enough Mistletoe
By DukeBrymin

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Category: Post-Hogwarts
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 22
Summary: Unexpected visitors and the resulting lack of privacy teach Harry and Ginny about the reason for the seasons, and whether you really can have too much mistletoe.
Hitcount: Story Total: 14247; Chapter Total: 3834
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
This was written for the LiveJournal hg_seasonsfest winterfest fic exchange. We all put in our requests, and were given an assignment. My prompt was: Canon pairings; I like stories just out of Hogwarts through when Lily is a baby; Neville would be good, as would any of the Weasleys. Snow, Fireplaces, Hot chocolate – really, winter is my favorite season you can't go wrong with most winter elements (but if you choose to include a sport – please don't go with snowboarding!)




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“Oi! Ginny! Harry! Can I come through?”

To his credit, Harry didn’t curse the speaker. But only because his arms were too full of Ginny to be able to get his wand from his back pocket.

Ginny had no such impediments and pulled Harry’s wand and fired the first spell she could think of. Luckily, the head in the fireplace disappeared (sporting a rather terrified grimace) before the Bombarda could get there. And, in her ire, Ginny’s aim wasn’t exactly true.

After the bits and pieces finished settling, Harry remarked, “Well, I guess we don’t need to worry about decorating the mantel anymore.”

Ginny laughed, but then tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Harry, I wanted everything to be perfect for our first Christmas, and this magazine had a great picture of an absolutely beautiful arrangement on the mantel, and I was trying to copy it, but then you came home, and Ron showed up, and poor Neville--he’ll probably never speak--”

“Hush, Gin,” Harry pulled her back into his arms. “It’s not the mantel--”

“Um, Harry? Can I come through?” came Neville’s very timid request.

Harry let loose a long sigh, then nodded. Ginny unsealed the Floo and a very nervous Neville stepped out of the fireplace.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. And Ginny, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I mean, obviously I didn’t know you were in the middle of something. If I’d known, I certainly wouldn’t have--”

“Neville!” Ginny interrupted him. “It’s okay, really. And I’m sorry about trying to blow your head off. It’s just been one of those days.”

Neville grinned slightly. “I don’t know--it looked like one of the better days, from what I could see.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s just say it’s had its ups and downs--”

Ginny snickered at the blush rising on Neville’s face, and then laughed outright when Harry realized what he’d said.

Harry shook his head and ignored the double entendre. “What I mean, Neville, is that Ron just came through with some wild story about being attacked by ice weasels, and how Hermione’s all mad at him about it, and . . .” Harry’s voice trailed off as he noticed Neville’s crestfallen look.

“No, Neville, don’t worry about it,” Harry hurried to reassure his quiet friend. “We don’t mind you coming over, right, Ginny?”

Ginny hurriedly agreed with Harry, and Neville’s worried look went away, to be replaced by a different worried look. “Um, Harry? Would you mind if I talked to Ginny?”

Harry looked taken aback, but turned to his wife. She seemed surprised too, but nodded.

“Sure, Neville. Um, I’ll just be in the kitchen with Ron, okay?”

“Thanks, Harry. It’s just that, I think I need a girl’s opinion.”

“No problem, Neville. After you and Ginny are done, why don’t you come back for some hot chocolate, okay?”

Neville smiled a bit more at the invitation. “Thanks, Harry, I think I’ll do that.”

Harry turned to walk away, but was stopped by an ominous throat-clearing from his wife. He quickly turned back to see a rather fierce glare on her face. He blanched, but then noticed that there was humor in her eyes, behind the glare. He looked a question at her, and she just pointed upward.

Harry looked, looked again, and laughed. “Sorry, Gin, I hadn’t expected a piece there.” He took two steps toward her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her ferociously, unheeding of Neville’s blush. Breaking the kiss, leaving Ginny looking rather dazed, he turned and walked back to the kitchen.

“Um, Ginny? Are you okay?” Neville’s quiet voice brought Ginny out of the haze of heat that had surrounded her.

“Oh, yeah. Um, yeah.” She shook her head a bit. “Now, uh, what did you need to talk to me about?”

“Oh,” Neville’s face fell again. “It’s just that Hannah’s really angry at me right now, and I don’t know what I can do to fix it.”

Ginny patted Neville on the arm, and then pulled him toward the sofa. “Well, sit down and tell me what happened, and we’ll see if there’s something you can do.”

Neville hesitated, eyeing the sofa. “Ginny, I’m not sure Harry would want us to sit there. Together, I mean.”

Ginny looked back at him blankly. “Whyever not?”

Neville just looked up at the ceiling, and nervously pointed.

Ginny looked up too. “Oh, the mistletoe.” She blushed a bit, but her voice was steady. “Don’t worry about it--I kind of got a little carried away decorating, and Harry’s always loved catching me under the mistletoe. But this mistletoe is special--” Ginny thought furiously. “--it only takes effect for couples. So you and I sitting under it won’t be a problem. But if Hannah came over, and you were both here, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t want to ignore the opportunity.”

Neville seemed to accept Ginny’s explanation, and he took a seat.

oooooooooo

Ron and Harry were enjoying their refilled mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen, aided by Harry’s secret stash of Christmas biscuits, when they were interrupted by loud shouting from the front room. It sounded as if someone were yelling quite vigorously, but the voice, despite being female, wasn’t Ginny’s.

Ron looked a little nervously at Harry, who just stared back. “I’m not going in there, mate. If you want to, go ahead. But that’s not Ginny’s voice, and she’s perfectly able to take care of whatever it is.”

Unfortunately, the voice got loud enough for them to hear it. “--and I find you spilling your guts to your ex-girlfriend! What kind of a relationship is that supposed to be, Mr. Longbottom?”

The next thing they heard was Ginny coming rapidly down the hallway. She threw open the kitchen door and made a beeline for the table. Grabbing Harry’s mug, she downed what was left of his chocolate, then sank into his lap.

“Thank Merlin,” she said, and leaned back into Harry’s arms, which automatically wrapped around her. Taking advantage of the mistletoe floating over the table, Harry tilted her head back and kissed her. Ginny melted in his embrace, in that particular boneless way that made Harry feel like he was the king of the world.

Ron was rapidly turning red, either in anger over the display of affection, or in sympathy for the two people’s holding their breath for such a long time, but before he could muster the courage to say anything (Ginny had explained her feelings towards brotherly buttings-in rather forcefully when she and Harry had gotten back together) they broke their kiss and sighed in unison.

Ron waited for Ginny to tell them about her conversation and the ensuing fight, but the couple on the other side of the table from him seemed to be too caught up in exchanging sappy looks to notice his eagerness. Eventually his limited patience ran out.

“Ginny! What did Neville want to talk about?”

Harry jumped in surprise and they both turned to look at Ron. “Sorry, Ron. I forgot you were there,” Ginny answered coolly.

“Obviously,” Ron commented sarcastically. “Too busy playing kissy-face with Harry to pay any attention to me, yeah?”

Ginny grinned. “Ron, please tell me you don’t call it kissy-face when Hermione’s around. I can just imagine her reaction to that.” She made her voice deeper in a surprisingly good imitation of Ron’s. “Hey, Hermione, come give me some kissy-face!”

Harry snickered, and Ginny lost it. After laughing at Ron’s discomfiture, Harry prodded him. “Come on, Ron. What did she say the first time you called it that?”

Ron’s blush reached epic proportions, but he just shook his head. “I’m not saying anything, you gits. I don’t need Hermione more upset with me than she is now. And what we do in private is none of your business!”

“What you do in private?” Harry laughed. “You two spending lots of time in private now, are you?”

Ron nodded his head, and Harry and Ginny congratulated him.

“But don't go making a big fuss about it, okay?” Ron said hastily. “It’s just--I want this to work out, and we certainly don’t need you two shoving your noses in where they don’t belong!”

Harry grimaced. “Um, Ron? In case you didn’t notice, it was your nose that was shoving in today.”

Ron frowned fiercely at the Potters, and Harry raised his hands in supplication. “Okay, fine. We’ll not mention anything. But you owe us one, yeah?”

Ginny mimed pulling out a parchment and quill and making a tally mark. “I think that’s 37 now that you owe us. Oh, wait, I forgot to add the one where we let you come over ‘cause Hermione and her parents were being treated for ice weasel attacks. There, 38.”

Ron turned red once more, but ignored Ginny’s byplay.

“So, Gin, what is wrong with Neville?” Harry asked. Ron looked rather happy that Harry was willing to step up in the matter.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything, really. Just one of those misunderstandings. Now that I think about it, Ron, it was kind of like yours. You see, Neville’s fancied Hannah Abbott for just ages now. And she’s liked him since about her fourth year, I think. Yeah, she kept throwing all these dark looks at us while we were dancing at the Yule Ball. Anyway, Neville finally got up the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend last year, and things have been progressing pretty well, from what I can gather. Where did you get those biscuits?”

Harry blinked at the non-sequitur, then looked at the tin still sitting in front of Ron. “Oh, um, they were kind of supposed to be a . . . a surprise for you. Um, Happy Christmas?”

If Harry hadn’t been so hesitant, he might have pulled it off. But Ginny was quite practiced at noticing Harry’s sad attempts at dissembling, and poked him in the ribs. “You liar--you’ve been hiding them from me, haven’t you?” Ignoring Harry’s spluttered denials, she gestured imperiously at Ron. “Pass them over. Now!”

Ron shoved the tin over, and Ginny took a couple of the chocolate-chip ones. “Where was I? Oh, yeah. So anyway, Neville is apparently rather serious about Hannah, so he wanted to give her a present, you know? To show her how much he cares.” She paused to take another bite of biscuit. “Evidently, he found this really rare plant--he called it a Grasping Ginkgo--and took it over to her at the Leaky Cauldron. She was all happy and stuff, but apparently it’s not called Grasping for nothing. While she was standing there admiring it, it pinched her on the bum. Hannah thought it was Neville, and she slapped him and told him to get out. He came here to see if I could give him some advice on how to fix things--not like I’m best friends with Hannah or anything. Well, Hannah went over to his place to kind of apologize--apparently, when the Ginkgo started getting even more, um, affectionate, she realized what had happened. Anyway, Neville’s gran told her he had come here, so she followed, and started yelling at him for running to me--”

“Yeah, we kind of heard that part,” Harry interjected. “How did you get them to stop arguing?”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t, really. Hannah started yelling as soon as she saw the two of us. That wasn’t too fun. But when she started looking around for things to throw, I kind of pushed Neville at her and ran. I don’t know why they got so quiet all of a sudden, and I don’t really want to go back there right now.” She looked at Ron thoughtfully. “Ron, you owe us, right? Go see what’s happening with Neville and Hannah, okay?”

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Ginny interrupted. “Well, I guess you could stay here, but I was going to have Harry look at this bruise. . .” She started lifting the front of her shirt.

“No! That’s fine, I’ll go! No need to get shirty about it!”

Everybody paused, then broke out into laughter as Ron turned red and left, muttering to himself.

“Gin, did you really get a bruise there?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Oh, no. I just figured it was a good way to get Ron out of the kitchen.”

“Good thinking, Mrs. Potter. I don’t think we’ve been able to have nearly enough time together recently. Well, it was wonderful kipping with you for awhile, but to be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more. . . active.” His words were accompanied by waggling eyebrows, a leering grin, and wandering hands.

“Harry, stop that,” Ginny insisted, grabbing his hands to keep them still. Strangely, she didn’t remove them from their perches, she just kept them from moving more.

Harry grinned at her, but noticed that her face had gotten serious. “What’s wrong, Gin?”

“It’s just that, well, this is our first Christmas together, and I wanted it to be perfect for you. I know the Dursleys--” the venom that usually infected her voice any time his relatives were mentioned was even more evident today, “--never let you participate. And yes,” she raised her voice slightly to counteract Harry’s protests that he loved all the Christmases with the Weasleys, “I know you like Christmas with my family. But this year we can be alone together, you know? We have a great opportunity to start our own Christmas traditions, and I just, I wanted it to be perfect.”

Harry was alarmed to see Ginny’s eyes start to fill with tears.

She sniffed slightly, then continued her rant. “But now we’ve got Ron hiding from the Grangers, and Hannah and Neville--”

“Snogging in a corner, the gits,” Ron interrupted as he returned from the sitting room. “And I think I used up at least 10 of my IOUs for that--I certainly did NOT need to see that.” Ron shuddered dramatically.

Ginny gave a watery chuckle. “So, she’s not mad at him anymore?”

“I should hope not! If that’s how she punishes him, I’d hate to see what she does when she’s happy with him!”

Ron took his seat at the table and refreshed his hot chocolate, snagging another biscuit as he did so.

Ginny grimaced at Ron’s presence, but Harry squeezed her gently. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. Then, in a normal voice, he said, “Well, Ron, I need to go up and wrap my presents, okay?”

Ron put down his mug quickly, slopping a little chocolate on the table, and made to stand up. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Um, no, Ron. Ginny and I are going up--you’re staying here. Oh, well,” Harry grinned slyly, “I suppose you could come up. I was just going to show Ginny that lingerie I picked out for her. It’s dark green, and the fishnets--”

“Stop! Okay! Fine, I’ll stay down here. But if I have nightmares tonight, it’s your fault. Eurgh!” Ron sat back down in disgust, and picked up his mug again.

Harry snickered. “Okay, Ron. If you’re sure. . .”

Ron just nodded, and the Potters headed out of the room.

“Do you think we should check on Neville and Hannah?” Harry asked as they walked.

“No, they’ll be okay. Neville really does love her, and I think he’ll be able to convince her of that pretty quickly, if they’re snogging.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “He’s that good of a kisser?”

“Why? Are you jealous, Potter?” Ginny shot back.

“Not especially, no. Well, I’m envious of him having taken you to the Yule Ball--I wish I’d had the chance to do that.” Harry quieted, then said, “Did you really kiss him?” He hastened to add, “I’m really not jealous, just curious, you know? I mean, my first kiss was Cho, but I really wish it had been you, and--”

“You’re babbling, dearest,” Ginny interrupted with a soft smile. “Neville kissed me, after the Yule Ball, but he just kissed me on the cheek. I’m glad for that--I think I was rather too young to be getting caught up in snogging and everything, even if I had been attracted that way to Neville. And Michael--well, he was patient with me, and I didn’t let him kiss me for the longest time. But he was my first kiss.” She looked pensive for a moment as they turned and started up the stairs. “I had thought, for the longest time, that my first kiss would be with you. I’m. . . not sad, really, maybe wistful is the right word. I’m wistful that it wasn’t, but I’m not sure it was a bad thing to have kissed Michael and Dean before you.”

“Really? Why?”

Ginny turned to Harry and grinned. “Because now I really can say that you are the best kisser ever!” And she drew him into a deep, passionate snog that made him forget about all the other people in the house with them.

Which was what made the yelling from the staircase above them such a shock.
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