#lilhex

archive moodboard for @lilhex

Oooh, dreaming the truth! One of the most intriguing phenomenons IMO.

Merry Christmas, Anna! I hope you have a wonderful holiday, and enjoy this little story.

xx your secret santa

( @lilhex )

“I still can’t believe you came out here in this mess of a storm. And they let you?”

“Surprisingly,” said Ron as he plucked yet another peanut from the basket at the center of the table, “things have slowed down a bit at work now that You-Know-You’s, y’know, dead.” Hermione showed her appreciation for the explanation with a light whack of her mittens against his arm. “I’m just saying—”

“One afternoon’s nothing we can’t make up,” Harry interrupted, his finger circling the rim of his most recently emptied glass. “Anyway, it looks like everyone else had the same idea.” Getting to King’s Cross to pick up Ginny and Hermione hadn’t been the challenge, according to Ron, who had found it much more difficult to secure the four of them a booth at the Hopping Pot that evening. The trio glanced around the pub for but a moment; it was overwhelming to look too long at the bustling crowd as they fought for counter space at the bar.

Luckily, Ginny emerged from between them less than a minute later with another round of very full mugs.

“Don’t get too excited,” warned the ginger. “It’s only hot chocolate this time. Figured we could use it if we want to get home in one piece.”

“Last round then?” Ron asked, and everyone nodded. After draining his mug with a few swift sips, he stood. “Best grab the tab then. I’ll meet you lot up there.” Hermione watched as he went, taking note of the pride in Ron’s step that came from being able to pay for them. It was a habit that he’d begun forcing upon them on Hogsmeade weekends, one that no one had planned to make permanent. All the same, no one wanted to take the opportunity from Ron until it stopped putting that extra pep in his step, either.

In the midst of her own proud thoughts, Hermione turned back to Harry and Ginny, who were conspicuously close. Rather than feel embarrassed, she remembered how little time they had together before it was back to Hogwarts for herself and Ginny—how cruel it was that their holiday break was so short, and that she was wasting precious minutes there while Ron was on the other side of the room.

Clearing her throat a little too loudly, Hermione picked up both hers and Ron’s cloaks. “I’ll just— We’ll see you up there.”

Hermione’s polite pleas to be allowed through the crowd were met with indignant huffs, if they were even acknowledged at all. And just when Hermione gave an indignant huff of her own—

“Oomph— No!”

Hermione watched as something small and difficult to distinguish tumbled from the pocket of Ron’s cloak and onto the floor. With no preparation but a hesitant glance at the crowd around her, she dove at the floor, carefully working her way around ankles and toes, narrowly avoiding the stomp of pointed heels and thickly padded boots. At last, she rescued it, though at the expense of her neatly combed hair that she’d put a little extra effort into taming that morning.

But as she walked through the crowd, with the small box clutched in the palm of her hand, Hermione felt funny. She realized that she didn’t know what it was, exactly, that she had dropped, or how important (or not) it actually was. What if she was holding the key to one of his assignments in the Auror department out in the open? No, that was silly, it couldn’t be that important, but—

“Oh, fudge flies,” Hermione sighed in surrender. Peeling off to the side of the room, she stopped and shifted the cloaks in order to hold the box properly. Once it was secure in her hand, she opened it—

“Oh, no.”

“Where the hell’d you get that?”

The box snapped shut as Hermione gasped. “Nothing. Nowhere.” She blinked furiously at Ron, her expression vacant until she realized the predicament she was in. Standing there, in the middle of the pub, with one of his personal effects in her hand. Blushing, she thrust the box into his chest. “It fell out of your pocket.”

“Oh.” The whole of Ron must have been red, because every inch that Hermione could see was glowing vibrantly, even in the subtle lighting of the pub. He took the box gently from Hermione’s hand and turned it over in his fingers. “Well,” he said, a sheepish smile on his face, “there goes Christmas.”

Christmas. A big holiday, for which, by the looks of it, Ron had planned a big gift. There was no time for Hermione to filter her thoughts before they came rushing out of their own accord.

“Ron, I’m not ready to get married.”

As Ron looked up, Hermione braced herself for the pained look she (regrettably) knew well. Instead, there was a smirk, one that cracked into a full smile, and then soft laughter. As much as Hermione wanted to feel relieved, all she felt instead was confused.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, don’t you think I know that? Here—” He motioned for his cloak, which Hermione happily handed over.

“Well, I thought I knew that you knew that, but then—”

She trailed off when Ron reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out a second box. He opened them both and held them out for Hermione to see two identical gold rings, the only difference being that one was slightly larger than the other. She narrowed her eyes at the boxes, and then shifted her gaze to Ron for explanation.

“Just got ‘em last night from Bill. One of his Curse-Breaker friends – well, she used to be, but she does stuff like this now – anyway, she charmed ‘em for us. They’ve got that thing you put on all the Dumbledore’s Army coins.”

“The Protean charm?” Hermione offered automatically.

“Yeah, that,” Ron nodded. “Anyway— I thought they’d be a cool way to, er, y’know, keep in touch. Since owls are kind of a pain in the arse, ‘specially in this weather.” It was Hermione’s turn to nod. There was a pause then, during which Hermione stared at the rings in awe and Ron tried to gauge her reaction. “If you don’t like ‘em, I can—”

“I love them.” Hermione finally met Ron’s eyes. The tension that had gathered so quickly rushed away just as fast. With wide grins and joined hands, they headed for the door.

these are the only ones i've found :(

been here all along by sandy hall

leviathan by scott westerfeld

the lynburn legacy by sarah rees brennan

the piper's son by melina marchetta

fan art by sarah tregay

the winner's trilogy by marie rutkoski

Prompt by: @lilhex - I hope you like it! A/N: Yes, I'm aware it's January. No, I do not care. Warning: Ron's potty mouth, predictably.

Mushy Mistletoes

"I'M GOING TO MURDER BOTH OF YOU IN YOUR SODDING SLEEP!"

"Language, Ronniekins!"

This was decidedly not going to be Ron's favourite Christmas.

It was bad enough that he was spending the entirety of his holidays in miserable, mouldy 12 Grimmauld Place, that his mother was exponentially more weepy than usual (which, all things considered, was quite an accomplishment, he'd give her that), and that he had piles of homework enough to fill several weeks of holidays – on top of all that, as if his plight wasn't already terrible enough, he was now permanently glued to the kitchen floor.

“BLOODY FUCKING TWATS!”

Several floors above him, Hermione found both Weasley twins leaning smugly against the railing, with identical expressions of pure joy at the sound of Ron's exclamations on their faces.

"What's this?", she asked, narrowing her eyes.

The twins looked alarmed.

"Don't tell Mum", they said in unison.

"We'll glue you on the next doorstep."

"We'll glue you in Kreacher's cupboard."

"We'll glue you in Harry's room, see how you deal with his tantrums."

"Aw, that's harsh, George."

"Fair."

"What did you do to Ron?", asked Hermione, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Sheer delight erupted on their faces.

"It appears", said Fred, "that dear Ronniekins ran into a Mushy Mistletoe."

"Quite successfully so, mind you."

"I'LL HEX YOU INTO OBLIVION IF MUM DOESN'T GET THERE FIRST, YOU PISS-STAINS!"

"Matter of perspective", said Hermione, peering down the spindly staircase to the ground floor. The kitchen was out of sight. "What did you say they were called?"

"Mushy Mistletoes", said George, gracefully wiping his perfectly dry eye with a single finger. "A little treat for the festive season. We have rarely been prouder."

"It's a regular, good old mistletoe", explained Fred, "with the added fun of it Spellotaping you to the ground below your feet should you er, encounter one."

"We're working on the name", added George.

Hermione was scandalised. "It's one of the products for your stupid joke shop? And you let Ron run into it? How do you even know it's safe? Did you tell him the counter-spell?"

"Hermione", said Fred indignantly, "as much as we appreciate you having Ron's back and all that, you aren't seriously telling us you don't know how mistletoes work, now, are you?"

"FUCK YOU, FRED WEASLEY!"

The twins erupted in sniggers.

"Really", snapped Hermione and marched down the staircase, cheeks flecked with pink.

"What's funny?", asked Ginny, peeking out of the living room.

"Ron stepped under a mistletoe that glued him to the kitchen floor", said Hermione.

"SHOUT A LITTLE LOUDER, HERMIONE, WILL YOU!"

Hermione had realised her mistake immediately, but it was too late – Ginny bolted towards the kitchen and was laughing heartily when Hermione followed two seconds later.

"Thanks, Hermione", Ron said sourly. "Great, thanks. I always appreciate having an audience in moments like these."

"I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't think – oh, give it a rest, Ginny –"

But Ginny had already left to join the twins, leaving the door open behind her just an inch, and Hermione turned to look at Ron.

As much as she wanted to deny it: there was something undeniably funny about the look of tall, gangly Ron, a murderous expression on his face, standing under a single mistletoe which had now, of all things, started to holler cheesy Christmas songs.

"These seem a little off-key", said Hermione into the silence, fighting silently to try and keep the corners of her mouth from twitching – and was this really the time to think about how cute he looked when he was angry?

Ron took a deep breath. "Right. Tell me. How long's this gonna take to wear off?"

"I – er – I don't think it will. It – no, look, I'm not saying that you'll be stuck her forever, Ron, you won't obviously, I mean, the charm will have to wear off eventually, and you do have to go back to school and all that … the twins said it just worked like a regular mistletoe", she finished, her voice several octaves higher than usual.

"Well", grumbled Ron, "then I guess I'll just –"

Then he understood, and his eyes widened.

"Oh. Oh. I – bloody buggering pricks!"

"Yeah, well, Ron, I agree, but insulting them isn't going to get us anywhere, so –"

"It's alright, really, I'll just – go get Pigwidgeon –"

"Oh, don't be silly", said Hermione.

But he was – as much as she tried to deny it, he was undeniably the silliest thing she'd seen all day, with his gloomy expression and a mistletoe now enthusiastically dumping buckets of fake snow on his head, and she wouldn't have him or the way he was now angrily wiping snow off his shoulders any other way.

"It's OK", said Hermione, "That snow's just a spell – it can't be real now, can it? – I don't think it's going to melt on you."

"Great comfort."

Their most awkward silence yet fell. Hermione's brain was working furiously: she could tell he was annoyed and upset and embarrassed, muttering insults under his breath – the rest of the family could come running into the kitchen at any moment, and she really wanted to save him from this embarrassment, and maybe she kind of, kind of wouldn't mind …

No. definitely not.

Muffled voices came bubbling in from outside the kitchen – Ron tensed up and closed his eyes as he swore to the kitchen ceiling.

"Yeah, well, he's not getting out of there until February", said Fred or George.

"Is Hermione in there with him?", said a new voice.

Ron's expression changed from mortified to deeply offended in the fraction of a second. "Not Harry, too", he whispered.

"OK", said Hermione, whose heart was inexplicably speeding up. "Hold still."

"You don't have to - "

"You're sleeping in the kitchen then?"

"NO! I ... er ..."

Hermione was painfully aware of her burning cheeks as she stepped closer, abashed, but determined. God, he was tall. He'd have to bend down, and he appeared to be frozen in shock.

She grabbed his shoulders for balance and pulled herself up on the tips of her toes, pressed her closed mouth on the corner of his – lingered, for the fraction of a second – , and took several steps backwards. Ron blinked. For a single moment there, she thought he might've closed his eyes.

Ridiculous thought.

"So?", she asked, her voice reverberating oddly in the silent kitchen and her buzzing head.

"That ... that wasn't ..."

"No, I meant, can you move?", she said quickly.

"Oh! I – yes! Yes, I can – thanks, Hermione."

"Sure", she said, awkwardly patting his shoulder. She pulled away the moment she realised what she was doing. "Uhm – Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"This – it's not going to make things between us weird, right?"

"What – no! Absolutely not. I mean this … this …", he laughed nervously, "this isn't changing anything. I mean, it was just – it was just a – right?"

"Yeah! Right. Right."

A peck on the corner of his mouth barely counted as a kiss, she reasoned with herself. It didn't really count as anything.

When they opened the kitchen door, both Weasley twins, Harry, and Ginny were sitting on the staircase. Ginny, Fred and George looked disappointed at the sight of Ron's freely moving feet –  Harry stared incredulously at Hermione, not quite smiling, but not too bothered, either.

Rules: answer the questions and tag nine people you’d like to get to know better 

Relationship status: A girl’s gotta have some secrets ;)

Lipstick or chapstick: Oh definitely chapstick all the way, it’s my bestie lol and pretty much the only thing I wear tbh xD

Last song I listened to: Not really the last thing I’m certain, but Greenlight by Pitbull is the last one I remember lol (because y’all should know I’m always a sucker for his music sooo is this really any surprise???)

Top three shows: Star Trek Voyager, Letterkenny, Stargate (idk, I don’t really watch TV shows all that much lately lol)

Top three characters: Neville Longbottom, Marcus Flint, Eli Navarro

Top three ships: (currently it’s) Pansy/Neville, Charlie/Daphne, and Justin/Pansy (thanks @ff-sunset-oasis totally your fault)