Saturday morning, Hermione awoke excited for the day ahead. Angie, Lavender, and Ginny were all supposed to come over for brunch and a day of baking. They were going to make an assortment of Christmas pies, cakes, and biscuits. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Oliver promised to stop in after work, and whatever Percy and Oliver had planned for the day to act as taste testers.
After dressing quickly, she made her way into the kitchen where, on her countertop, sat a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec. Just as she wondered where it came from and how it had arrived in her kitchen, she spotted the familiar-looking envelope under the bottle. Now that she knew that the gifts were from a safe source, she wasn't concerned, but that didn't exactly explain how it came to be inside her house. But... "Harry," she muttered aloud, of course... he had direct access anytime and now that he knew and approved of the admirer, he was likely acting as a delivery boy.
Hefting the familiar bottle, she smiled tearfully. This had been her parents' favourite champagne; her father had splurged on the sweet bubbly when he proposed to her mum. Hiding the ring in the bottom of her flute, he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife just as she took a sip.
It was a story that she'd heard every year when her romantic parents shared a bottle on the anniversary of their engagement. It had been the first wine that she'd ever tasted, and it was still her favorite.
She knew that she'd shared that story with her closest friends. They'd all come over to comfort her when she discovered that the spell that she'd used to modify her parents' memories couldn't be safely reversed. That night, she had shared many happy memories that she had of her family and everyone listened, allowing her to cry and reminisce. There was only one single male who was present for that, but she didn't want to speculate too much. The disappointment would be awful if she was wrong.
Finally, she opened the card and couldn't stop the hot tears that began to flow freely down her cheeks.
Hermione,
I won't tell you how I heard the story, because I'm not quite ready to give my identity away, but learning of your parents' special tradition involving this particular champagne stuck with me. It's been in the back of my mind for all of the years since I heard it. I'm not perfect, I know I'll never be, but if you will let me, I can promise that I will love you like that.
Your Christmas Admirer
It was several minutes before she could stop the tears. That was exactly what she wanted. Someone who could give her the sort of love that was inspiring to others. She'd observed the same kinds of things in the couples at The Burrow over the years. With so many wonderful examples, how could she have ever settled for anything less? Now, all she had to do was hope that she felt the same when she learned her mystery man's identity.
With the help of cold water, a glamour, and some cosmetics, Hermione was able to rid herself of the red puffy eyes left behind by the crying jag well before her friends showed up. She'd just finished making their meal when everyone arrived within minutes of the others.
As they began to eat, Angie announced to the group at the table, "Fred and George need our help with a new product this evening. They're going to bring it over when they close the shop." At the sound of groans around the table, she laughed. "I promise that this one isn't bad. I know what it is and I can attest that there will be no strange side effects, no blurting of secrets, nothing bad at all. You know how protective of me George has been since we found out that I'm pregnant," at the answering nods of agreement, she continued, "well, this is so benign that I've already tested it."
