This is for my claim on fanfic100 on LiveJournal. There is a table on LJ with 100 prompts and it is my job to write a fic for each prompt with my claim (Ron, Hermione, Rose and Hugo - family). I haven't yet been accepted on LJ but I really wanted to write it anyway, so here's the first one.

These stories are completely stand alone and will have no relation to each other what so ever (despite my head canon - you'll probably recognise things if you've read Grief or Look at the Stars).

I own nothing other than the plot. And pretty please review if you read it. Every writer likes reviews.

Characters(s): Ron, Hermione, Hugo, Rose

Prompt #92 Christmas

The Perfect Christmas

The Christmas tree was set up, the candles were lit dimly on the table and snow fell outside the window. It made for the perfect Christmas Eve. The next day was going to be the best Christmas ever. It was going to be their first Christmas with Hugo. Nothing was going to go wrong. Nothing could go wrong.

"It looks great, Hermione," Ron commented, arriving home from the Ministry just before midnight. There was always a lot to do on Christmas Eve, with very few people available to do it. Harry had taken off to somewhere in France with Ginny and the kids and Neville was spending the next week with his parents at St. Mungo's. Ron had been left to fill out reports designed for five people.

"Thanks!" Hermione beamed, allowing him to plant a kiss on her cheek. "But I can't take all the credit. Rose helped me for a while." She pointed to a place on the tree where tinsel was literally trying to untangle itself from a big knot no doubt caused by the hands of a two year old. "I didn't have the heart to fix it."

"It's perfect," Ron said. "Everything's perfect." He looked around the room, taking in the effort Hermione had gone to for this Christmas.

"I know he's too young to remember it all, but if we take lots of pictures, we can show it to him when he's older."

"And here I was thinking you went to all of this effort for me," Ron teased, kissing her again; this time on her lips.

"I did it for all of us," Hermione answered. "This year actually feels... complete."

Ron sat down on the closest couch, pulling Hermione down with him. "I couldn't agree more," he said. "There's just something about this Christmas. Everything has fallen into place." He ran his hands over his face, the long day finally setting in. The clock said it was five minutes until midnight; five minutes until what he knew was going to be a perfect Christmas.


The next morning, they were woken at dawn by Hugo's screams, demanding someone pay him some attention. Ron rolled over, trying to ignore it.

"Your turn," he mumbled.

"It's always my turn," Hermione said, sitting up slowly. "He's your son too, you know."

Ron grunted something unintelligible and was soon sleeping again.

Hermione sighed as she got out of bed. She made an effort to throw back the covers, but Ron didn't seem to notice. "Merry Christmas," she mumbled before making the short distance to Hugo's bedroom. He was lying awake in his cot, arms flailing in all directions. As soon as she lifted him into her arms, his crying subsided and he seemed content. "Every morning," she said, placing a kiss on the side of his head.

She took him back to her own bed, where Ron had managed to pull the covers back up and was rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Too early," he complained. "What did the Healers say about giving kids the Sleeping Draught?"

"That it's highly illegal and anyone caught doing it will be in serious trouble," Hermione replied absently, smiling down at Hugo's tiny figure. He was looking around the room in wonder, seeming to not realise it was different to any other day.

Snow was once again falling outside and for a long time, he seemed captivated by it. That was until Rose came galloping in as well, jumping onto their bed in excitement.

"G'morning, Rosie," Ron yawned. He still hadn't bothered to move and didn't, even when Rose climbed all over him.

"G'morning," Rose copied, kissing Ron's cheek noisily and then Hermione's.

It seemed that despite all the decorations down the hall, Rose, too, didn't realise today was special. This was what happened every morning. Hugo would wake up and then moments later, Rose would join them. Despite the Silencing Charms they put on her room each night, she still seemed to know when her brother was awake and would be up at the same time as him.

"The joys of having two young kids," Ron said, finally relenting and sitting up. He realised there was no chance of going back to sleep now that both of them were up. "Don't even get to sleep in on a holiday. Alright, Rosie, what do you want for breakfast?" He offered his arms to his daughter and she accepted, her own, smaller arms linking around his neck.

With Rose attached to him like a monkey to a tree, he got out of bed with Rose crying out for pancakes. Her voice could still be heard even when Ron had taken her downstairs to the kitchen.

Hermione smiled. Already, this was turning into the best Christmas ever and it had only just begun.


Rose frowned, studying the gifts in front of her as if she thought they were going to explode. With Hugo resting on his knee, Ron pushed one in front of her, giving her an encouraging smile.

There were five all up. Two from them, one from Arthur and Molly, another from Hermione's parents and the fifth was from Harry and Ginny.

Rose pushed it away.

"You haven't had any trouble the last two years," Ron said. "You went for everyone else's last year," he added.

Rose didn't seem to comprehend what he was saying. Her eyes darted between her presents and Ron; untrusting and unsure.

Ron shrugged. "Suit yourself, Rosie." He moved back to the couch, where Hugo's presents sat.

Hugo was less shy about opening them, his tiny fingers digging into the wrapping paper with curiosity. But, he seemed more interested in that, than what was actually inside of them. Ron had to take paper from his mouth on more occasions than he could count.

With her presents still unopened on the floor, Rose came over to watch what her brother was doing. When it was revealed Hugo's gift from Molly and Arthur was a miniature car that moved on its own, she tried to grab it. "Mine," she said.

"That's Hugo's, Rose," Hermione told her as she put it on the floor for Hugo's entertainment. He squealed with delight as his eyes followed it around the room. "You didn't want yours, remember?"

Rose looked back at her presents, eyeing them suspiciously. But curiosity seemed to get the better of her, because she was soon tearing at the paper, leaving a big mess in her wake.

Ron placed Hugo on the floor, leaving him to play with his new car – the only gift he seemed to be interested in – and glanced at the clock. They were supposed to be going to the Burrow for Christmas lunch; a tradition left unbroken for years.

"Give them another hour," Hermione said, answering his question before the words had left his lips. "They're having too much fun right now." She smiled at her two children, who were each enjoying their new toys.

Rose's uncertainty had disappeared rather quickly after opening the first and she was now captivated by each, individual gift. Hugo's attention remained solely on the car.

"We must tell dad it was a good choice," Ron said, also watching them. "Much better than what we got him, it seems," he added, picking up the soft dragon toy that lay forgotten.

"He'll grow into it," Hermione told him certainly. "He'll be over that one soon, anyway."

Ron silently agreed. Neither of his children had very long attention spans.


There was nothing noisier than when all the Weasleys gathered at the Burrow for Christmas. They cluttered around the magically extended table in the backyard, talking, telling stories of their morning and the past few months.

The children were a short distance away, playing a game of Quidditch on pretend broomsticks. Most were still too young to fly on their own and no one was bothered to go and help them. Everyone was content in letting them pretend.

"It's such a shame Harry and Ginny couldn't be here," Molly commented as she brought out the overly large Christmas turkey. It was enough to feed everyone twice over.

"Come on, Mum, be realistic. They're probably having the time of their lives away from everyone," Ron replied.

Molly shot in a disgusted look, but didn't say anything. Hermione kicked him under the table.

"What?" he asked. "It's true."

"Can't you see she's missing them? It's the first time anyone's been missing since... well, since Fred."

Ron sobered after that. "Oh, I didn't realise... is there anything I can do to help, Mum?"

"No, dear, I've got it all under control," Molly replied kindly as she made her way back inside.

"Maybe you can help by stopping your daughter from beating up her older cousins?" George had appeared next to Ron, pointing over to the pretend Quidditch pitch. Where they had all been playing happily just moments ago, now appeared to be the location of a brawl. And two-year-old Rose seemed to be the cause of the disturbance as her small body had Dominique pinned to the ground.

"Get her off! Get her off!" Dominique cried as Rose pulled at her hair.

Ron sighed as he marched over to where they were, lifting his daughter easily off Dominique. "What happened?" he demanded, keeping a tight hold on his struggling daughter.

"She lost, and she didn't like it," Victoire replied. "Dommy beat her."

"Is that true, Rose?" Ron asked.

Rose shook her head. "I won."

Ron sighed again. When Rose was concerned, she always won. Rose's Rules. "Alright," he said. "I think you can take a break, missy. Let the others play for a while." He took her back over to the table. Rose cried the whole time, fighting his hold on her, demanding to let her play again. "Not until you learn to play by the rules," he told her.

"Why is it," Hermione began, when Rose turned to her for comfort. "That whenever there is a disturbance, you're always at the centre of it?"

"It's in her genes," George replied, grinning at them. "She can't help it."

"I hardly think Rose's violent behaviour is something to joke about," Percy interrupted. Both Ron and George rolled their eyes.

"No one asked for your opinion, Perce," Ron said.

"But he's going to give it anyway," George added as Percy opened his mouth to continue.

Rose was struggling in Hermione's arms now, her eyes focused on where her cousins were playing.

"She needs to be taught how to lose," Percy said. "And that she can't always win. It's not the first time something like that has happened."

"She's two years old," Ron argued. "All two year olds believe it's all about them. She'll grow out of it."

"Yeah, at least she doesn't walk around like she's the Queen of England," George said, nodding his head in the direction of three-year-old Molly; hands on hips and a pouting expression. "And she's not afraid to get her hands dirty, either."

Percy rose from his seat, a terrifying expression forming on his features. The only thing that stopped him from saying anything was Molly returning with a tray of roast vegetables.

"What is going on here?" she demanded.

All three of her sons mumbled something along the lines of 'nothing' and happy conversations once again surrounded them. Molly seemed satisfied and began to spread the lunch along the table.

"He's got a point, you know," Hermione said quietly, so only Ron could hear.

Ron waved her away. "We'll talk about it another day," he said. "Not on Christmas."

"Alright, kids! Lunch is ready!" Molly called across the yard. All of the children immediately dropped their broomsticks and came running, squeezing into spots that hadn't been there moments ago.

"I wish Aunty Ginny was here," Victoire said. "She could show us how to really fly."

"Ahem," George said. "Your Aunt may be the only one in the family to have played professionally, but it doesn't mean the rest of us are completely useless. After lunch, we can show you if you like," he added, pointing between himself and Ron and Charlie.

Victoire beamed. "Cool!"

"Anytime, Vic," George replied, giving her a mischievous wink.


"It took three Chocolate Frogs and a Liquorice Wand to convince Rose to actually go to bed."

"You gave her sweets just before she went to bed?" Hermione asked accusingly.

Ron shrugged. "It's Christmas."

Hermione was about to argue, but thought better of it. Instead, she allowed for Ron's arms to fold around her, resting her head against his chest. "It was a good day," she commented.

"Even if Fleur never speaks to me again," Ron answered. "I mean, it kind of was my fault Victoire fell off that broom. I should have been paying closer attention."

"She didn't fall that far," Hermione said. "The worst of her injuries was a bump to the head. Rose has had worse by simply playing on the ground. She'll forgive you. You know what Victoire's like. Making everything ten times worse than what it actually is."

"I guess," Ron said, still uncertain. "I just don't want to be the reason any of them end up in St. Mungo's or something."

Hermione laughed, looking up into her husband's blue eyes. "You won't let that happen," she assured him.

Ron pulled her close to him. "It's been a long day. I think bed is in order."

Hermione nodded, pulling out of his embrace and taking his hand. "Thanks for today," she said.

"No, thank you, Hermione. I did nothing." He pointed around the room. "This was all you and lunch was all mum. I kind of just went with it."

Hermione shrugged. "Still, you helped make this the perfect Christmas," she said.

Ron kissed her. "With you, every Christmas is perfect."

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And, the title was just something I thought up that sounded more exciting than "One Hundred One Shots"