The Sugar Quill
Author: Kit Black  Story: Two Inches  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

This is J

 

First, I would like to thank all of you reading my story.

 

Secondly,  I would like to note that every time you see a divider in this story the POV changes from Ron to Hermione or vice versa.

 

Thirdly, I own not a whit of the Harry Potter Universe, etc.

 

Hermione Granger waltzed around her living room, singing softly to the music that echoed around her. Picking up one of the crystallized ornaments from their box she glided over to her six foot tall Christmas tree. Before hanging the fat, and now dancing, Santa Claus directly in the middle of the tree, she took a tape measure out of the pocket of her jeans and locked the measure on two inches. After yawning widely, she smiled, somewhat sleepily, and began to decorate the vast and currently bare tree.

 

 

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Footsteps sounded on the pavement as Ron Weasley sauntered through the streets of Godric’s Hollow, up towards his house door, whistling numerous Christmas carols.

        As Ron finished the last stanza of O Holy Night, he fished his keys out of his corduroy pocket and unlocked the wide oak door.

 

Hearing the Christmas classic, Toyland, coming from the living room, Ron smiled and leaned peacefully against the open door. After closing the door against the cold, Ron walked into the Christmas carol concert hall formerly known as the living room.

 

Ron went to the living room at a steady pace, wanting to admire his wife’s work. He looked around the room as he entered it and set his eyes on the Christmas tree occupying an entire corner of the room.

 

He sighed deeply. This was home, his home, his and Hermione’s. He laid Hermione’s present on the piano stool next to the tree and looked more carefully at the tree to find a treasure underneath.

 

It seemed that Hermione had fallen asleep on the floor, right under the massive tree itself.

 

 Looking upon his sleeping wife’s face he noticed that she was holding something, that didn’t quite fit in with the picture, in her left hand.

 

 Scrunching up his face, he knelt down and looked at the object to find that it was none other than a Muggle tape measure that had been locked on two inches.

 

 Trying to pry the tape measure out of his beautiful wife’s hands, he pulled a bit too forcefully because his wife was now stirring.

 

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Hermione, who felt as though she was being lightly pulled forward, opened her eyes to look right into a blue sparkling sea.

 

The new Mrs.Weasley blinked again and looked deeper into her husband’s very blue eyes and smiled dreamily.

 

She had noticed before that her husband eyes, not unlike those of Albus Dumbledore’s, held a certain twinkle that was now shining into her own eyes.

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Ron lightly planted a tender kiss on Hermione’s forehead as he lifted her up into his arms.

 

Ron heard his wife say, “Two inches, exactly two inches.”

 

        “What’s two inches, love?” he inquired as though talking to a small child.

 

        “The ornaments, the ornaments, are exactly two inches apart. In every direction.”

 

        Hearing his wife’s words, Ron stopped walking  and looked down into her face. Only Hermione, would measure and hang all of their ornaments exactly two inches apart, only his Hermione.

 

Hermione sighed and cuddled deep into her husband’s arms as he walked across the room, unburdened by her weight.

 

Ron eased her down on their comfortable hunter green couch as he heard her moan in distaste, having to leave his arms, as he settled her there.

 

Ron smiled once more before leaning over the desk chair and retrieving the printed house-elf quilt that rested there.

 

Draping the quilt over his wife’s quietly breathing body he tucked her in, all the while watching the house-elves on the patterned quilt do the Macarena.

 

Standing up, he turned to their gigantic Christmas tree and stared at the dancing Santa Clauses and Albus        Dumbledores that were hanging on the stiff limbs.

 

The towering Ron Weasley stared into his Christmas tree.

Hearing his wife’s gentle sighs, his eyes twinkled with untold magic.

 

 

 

 

May the Spirit of Christmas always be with you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

//
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