4.3 | Astoria ✓

15 | 2007

A/N

This is the PENULTIMATE chapter of Astoria, meaning there is only one chapter left after this! I hope you've been enjoying this story so far. Next week, I'll be posting a cast/playlist insert, as I realised I've totally forgotten about that AND have yet to show you who my cast for Astoria is. If you had to cast Astoria for this novella, who would you pick?

Slight M, you've been warned. Enjoy!

x Noelle

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FRESH SNOW CRUNCHES beneath her as she trudges down the street. She has to take care not to slip on the patches of ice, and casts an anti-slip spell on her boots for good measure. Eager to get out of the cold, she makes a beeline for Mellor's Minced Pies across the junction.

A brilliant white light stops her.

The familiar Jack Russell terrier scampers up and she slows in her steps. Ron's patronus. "What do you want?" she murmurs, unable to hide an amused smile. He's even charmed it to block her path when she tries to move forward. Colour her impressed—this is some seriously advanced spell work.

"Trying to stop you from making the worst decision of your life," the owner of the Patronus says. The terrier vanishes in a white mist as Ron rounds the corner. He's got his hands shoved into his coat pockets; his heavy boots making deep imprints in the snow as he wanders over.

"I fail to see how getting minced pies from Mellor's is the worst decision of my life. Surely, the ones you got from Caddel's were much worse. I mean, you even got a stomachache from that—"

"No, I meant that getting minced pies from anywhere but my mum's on Christmas Eve is a terrible mistake."

She bites her lip and falls back a step. "Are you inviting me to the Burrow?"

They've only had this argument about fifty times over since they've become friends. Every so often, he'll extend an invitation to his parents' place. Thanksgiving. Quidditch season. Harry's birthday. His parents' anniversary. Saturdays. Sometimes, she'll attend their weekend brunches. Those are tame enough and only involve Ron's family. Harry and Hermione usually show up then, along with Draco, Andromeda and Teddy. But Christmas Eve is all those big holidays rolled into one. The Weasleys go big then, everyone knows that. The Order, everyone's extended families, and even prospective partners make it to the gathering.

It's also the one that she's refused to go for the past four years.

"But why?" is Ron's predictable answer when she rejects him once again.

She has to drag her gaze away from him, because his disappointment reminds her of a kicked puppy. "Because it's your family's thing."

He snorts. "Have you seen our Christmas Eve gatherings over the last two years? It's the Order's thing now."

"All the more reason not to go, then. I've never been part of the Order anyway," she adds, with a shrug, and sidesteps him. She's halfway down the road when his voice stops her.

"I know what you're afraid of." She stops, but doesn't turn. Footsteps draw close, and she knows he's come up right behind her. "You're afraid that you'll miss your family even more than you already do," he says quietly. "Being surrounded by all these people—it'll remind you of what you no longer have."