Date: December 25, 2005 Characters: Roger Davies, Hermione Granger Location: Home Status: Private Summary: Hermione and Roger spend Christmas morning together Completion: Incomplete
At least the shite weather of the last few weeks made for a beautiful Christmas. Roger wasn't sure, but maybe it was the fact that they'd just had a couple of days where it had been slightly warmer that had him sort of appreciating the copious amounts of snow they had here at home. Still, he was glad it seemed to be letting up a bit. He was going to have to modernize the heating at the shop after finding out that the old Muggle system wasn't sufficient when temperatures got really low
( ... )
They sat on the sofa, and she frowned at his bare feet. "You'll catch your death," she said, shaking her head. "Aren't your feet cold? Mine are freezing."
She snuggled against him and knew which package she'd have him open first. Then he could put on new socks, because he was making her cold. "Can you believe it's already Christmas? New Year's Eve is less than a week away. God, it's going to be 2006 in a week."
"Did you think we'd be here like this last year?" She smiled up at him and kissed his jaw. "I certainly didn't, but I'm glad we are."
He shrugged and smiled easily. "I've got tough skin," he pointed out as he sat. "It's warm in here, at least, with the fire. I'm good. Now, I'm happy to rub warm oil on your feet, if you're chilly. Then I could work my way up." He grinned as she snuggled against him.
"I was just thinking about last Christmas," he told her, "when I barely knew you and you still invited me to your home. It was the best Christmas, or Friday before, I'd had in years. Got even better this year, though." He smiled as she kissed his jaw and brushed his lips against her temple. "I'm glad we're here, too. Now. Let's get to those presents, yeah?"
He shifted and moved to reach for the closest of the presents he'd placed under the tree for her. He shook it theatrically by his ear, even though it probably wasn't that hard to figure out that it was a bundle of books. "What could it be?" He handed it to her.
"If you worked your way up, we'd end up getting distracted and miss Christmas dinner at the Burrow. Then Molly Weasley would never forgive us," she said with a laugh. "You managed to distract me from visiting the Louvre, but I can't miss dinner at the Burrow."
She smiled. "I remember that night. You were the only person who offered to help me in the kitchen. You know, looking back, maybe that's why I fell in love with you." She pretended to give it some thought. "Nope, I think it was that smile and the way your bum looks when you wear blue jeans after all."
When he pretended not to know what a package that was obviously books was, she stuck her tongue out at him and reached for one of his presents. "Trade," she said, taking the package from him. She opened it neatly and grinned when she saw the books. "Oh, I've never read these before."
"Oh, good. I wasn't sure if you'd know them all or not," she admitted. "Your love of poetry is something that I've not acquired, even if I don't mind hearing you recite it sometimes
( ... )
"You say it plenty," he told her, "and you do it without words. I see it all the time. I hope I'm showing you the same way." He brushed his lips against hers.
"I'm rubbish at talking about this," he admitted, "but you already know that. And I'm rambling. I do that sometimes, but you know that, too. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, and I know that I don't always get it right, but I'll do whatever I can. I want to spend forever showing you I feel."
He blew out a breath. He'd never thought he'd ever be able to say this again, to anyone. But as it came out, it was surprisingly easy. And he knew he was a being soppy prat, but at the moment he didn't care. Ducking his head, he shifted and knelt in front of where she sat on the couch. "I want you to ... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And everything that goes along with it. I want to marry you; will you ... would you marry me?"
"You do show me. All the time." She returned his kiss and smiled when he said he was rambling. "That's something that you obviously picked up from me
( ... )
For a moment, she didn't say anything, just looked at him sort of dumbfoundedly. It wasn't an expression he was used to seeing on her face, and frankly he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. He paled, wondering if he'd just made an arse of himself, if he'd assumed too much, if he was moving to fast. He was a breath away from gobbling the words back up again, because seriously, she looked like she might cry, before she spoke.
Was he sure?
"Hell yes," he stated in answer, before she surged forward, a bundle of flannel and fleece and bushy-haired Hermione, and knocked him flat as she kissed him. He laughed and returned her kiss full-on, wrapping his arms around her as he tried to balance them. But she sat on his lap then, and that felt nice. At her next words, he let out a whoop. "Ah, god, you scared me," he said, burying his face in her neck. "I love you. And I suppose I'm not too much of an idiot if I've managed to rope you in, Granger
( ... )
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She snuggled against him and knew which package she'd have him open first. Then he could put on new socks, because he was making her cold. "Can you believe it's already Christmas? New Year's Eve is less than a week away. God, it's going to be 2006 in a week."
"Did you think we'd be here like this last year?" She smiled up at him and kissed his jaw. "I certainly didn't, but I'm glad we are."
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"I was just thinking about last Christmas," he told her, "when I barely knew you and you still invited me to your home. It was the best Christmas, or Friday before, I'd had in years. Got even better this year, though." He smiled as she kissed his jaw and brushed his lips against her temple. "I'm glad we're here, too. Now. Let's get to those presents, yeah?"
He shifted and moved to reach for the closest of the presents he'd placed under the tree for her. He shook it theatrically by his ear, even though it probably wasn't that hard to figure out that it was a bundle of books. "What could it be?" He handed it to her.
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She smiled. "I remember that night. You were the only person who offered to help me in the kitchen. You know, looking back, maybe that's why I fell in love with you." She pretended to give it some thought. "Nope, I think it was that smile and the way your bum looks when you wear blue jeans after all."
When he pretended not to know what a package that was obviously books was, she stuck her tongue out at him and reached for one of his presents. "Trade," she said, taking the package from him. She opened it neatly and grinned when she saw the books. "Oh, I've never read these before."
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"I'm rubbish at talking about this," he admitted, "but you already know that. And I'm rambling. I do that sometimes, but you know that, too. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, and I know that I don't always get it right, but I'll do whatever I can. I want to spend forever showing you I feel."
He blew out a breath. He'd never thought he'd ever be able to say this again, to anyone. But as it came out, it was surprisingly easy. And he knew he was a being soppy prat, but at the moment he didn't care. Ducking his head, he shifted and knelt in front of where she sat on the couch. "I want you to ... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And everything that goes along with it. I want to marry you; will you ... would you marry me?"
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Was he sure?
"Hell yes," he stated in answer, before she surged forward, a bundle of flannel and fleece and bushy-haired Hermione, and knocked him flat as she kissed him. He laughed and returned her kiss full-on, wrapping his arms around her as he tried to balance them. But she sat on his lap then, and that felt nice. At her next words, he let out a whoop. "Ah, god, you scared me," he said, burying his face in her neck. "I love you. And I suppose I'm not too much of an idiot if I've managed to rope you in, Granger ( ... )
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