Author's Note: I must confess that this was one of the hardest chapters for me to write just due to the emotional aspects of it, and I don't ever get choked up over the written word. Take that as a warning; you may want to grab some tissues. Anyway, I dedicate this (rather morose) chapter to my beta reader, Charmaine, who celebrated a birthday on Thursday. Happy Birthday Charmaine!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE WORST CHRISTMAS
Lying in was Harry's top priority when he went to bed that night after the Yule Ball was over. He was out the moment his head hit the pillow. His dreams consisted of a replay of what happened that night: him and Hermione, out in the snow, in the shadows, snogging. He wanted to relive that moment over and over. He was thrilled over the prospect of being able to behave like he wanted to around Hermione for the most part, seeing as there were going to be much fewer students in the castle. He was also thrilled that he wouldn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to do his morning runs. He wanted some rest and relaxation this holiday.
Ron, apparently, had other plans. He was up and bustling about at about 7:00, waking Harry up in the process.
"What time is it?" Harry said, squinting at his watch.
"Just after seven," Ron replied, pulling on a jumper.
"Why, in the name of Merlin, are you up if it's only seven?" Harry asked, groaning as he pulled himself up to a sitting position.
"I'm-er-I'm seeing Ginny and Luna off. I think Hermione's coming, too," Ron said.
At the mention of his girlfriend's name, he woke up thoroughly. "Really? Well, alright, I'll come too."
Harry got ready and joined Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville down in the common room. It was currently packed with all of the students getting ready to go down to breakfast and then to the train, causing Harry to have to squeeze between two sixth years in order to get to his friends.
"You're awake!" Hermione said, smiling. "I thought you wanted to have a lie-in."
"I did," Harry said, stifling a yawn, "but Ron woke me up and I figured I'd get up and join you."
"I didn't mean to wake you up," Ron said. "I was just rustling around in my trunk."
The five of them headed down to breakfast when the time came. The Great Hall had returned to normal, all four long House tables were back in place, as was the staff table up on the platform. Harry and company sat down in their usual spots. When breakfast was served, Harry helped himself to a couple of fluffy pancakes and syrup before dishing two fried eggs. Ron had not only that on his plate, but half a dozen strips of bacon as well.
"Hungry this morning, aren't you, Ron?" Ginny said, giggling.
"We had this conversation last night," Ron reminded her. "Fast metabolism."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," she said, winking at both Harry and Hermione.
"What are you on about?" Ron said grumpily.
"Oh, nothing," Ginny said. "Only that I saw how long you and Luna stayed at the ball, dancing the whole time. You must have easily worked off everything you ate at the feast."
Ron rolled his eyes and then gave Harry and Hermione a sharp look. "I didn't see you at the ball the whole time. Where'd you two run off to?"
"We took a walk," Harry said. "It got a bit stuffy in here."
Both Ron and Ginny raised their eyebrows.
"The fresh air was nice," Hermione said. "A bit nippy, but nice."
"It's winter and there's snow everywhere. It's even snowing now," Ron said, pointing up at the enchanted ceiling. "How long was this walk of yours?"
"Oh, about a half-hour," Hermione said. "I didn't feel the least bit cold."
"Me neither," Harry said.
"I wonder why," Ron muttered.
When they finished their meal, all of the students who were leaving gathered in the entrance hall, saying good-bye and wishing each other a happy Christmas. Ron, being the tallest, was able to scan the crowd better than the rest of them. "Luna's over there," he said, pointing by the oak front doors.
They traveled over to meet her. "Good morning, Luna," Hermione said as they approached.
"Good morning, all of you," she said, her protuberant eyes flickering over to Ron. "Especially to you, Ronald."
He turned a slight shade of pink. "To you too," he said.
"What are you doing over your holiday?" Harry asked.
"Daddy and I are going back to Sweden to once again look for Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks," she said.
Hermione gave a faint smile. "That sounds lovely."
"Yeah, have fun," Ron said.
Luna beamed at him. "I will."
Pretty soon, the oak front doors opened and outside were the numerous school carriages, all drawn by thestrals. Hermione gasped, causing Harry to look at her with concern.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "It still gives me quite the shock, being able to see those."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, watching the thestrals with her. "You'll get used to it," he said.
Ginny was hugging her brother. "Write home, okay? Mum will want to hear from you," she said to him.
"Don't worry, I will. I'm not a completely insensitive son," Ron said.
Neville walked over and shook both Harry and Hermione's hands. "Happy Christmas," he said to them. "Have a good holiday."
"You, too, Neville," Hermione said and gave him a hug, causing him to redden ever-so-slightly.
Ginny gave both Harry and Hermione a hug, wishing both of them a happy Christmas. "It's a shame you both won't come to the Burrow, but I understand your desire to spend your seventh-year Christmas at Hogwarts. See you next term!"
"'Bye!" both of them said as Ginny and Neville headed out the door.
"Good-bye, Harry. Good-bye, Hermione. Happy Christmas," Luna said. "If I find a Crumpled-Horned Snorkack, I'll bring it here for you to see."
"Okay," Harry said, laughing a little. "Have a wonderful holiday!"
She waved to them and walked out with Ron, who seemed to be escorting her to her carriage with Ginny and Neville. Before she got in, she hugged Ron and gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing Harry and Hermione to look at each other and grin.
When Ron returned, they headed back inside. "So, what was that all about?" Harry couldn't help but asking.
"What?" Ron said as they started up the marble staircase.
"Luna's good-bye to you. A kiss?" Harry said, grinning broadly.
Ron's ears went red. "It came as much as a surprise to me as it did to you," he said. "Nothing happened last night, if that's what you're implying."
"Something must have happened," Harry said, "if Luna's willing to show her affection for you now."
"Nothing happened," Ron insisted. "I didn't give her a kiss good night or nothing. We just danced and had a good time."
Hermione was grinning too. "Luna must have interpreted the evening a little differently than you did."
"I don't know why," Ron said.
"Ron, please," Hermione said. "You know full well that Luna fancies you. I'd recommend that you figure out exactly how you feel about her before you end up hurting her. She's a nice girl and she doesn't deserve that. Now, does anyone want to join me in the library to work on our homework?"
Ron groaned. "Can't we hold it off? We just started our holiday!"
"Very well," she said. "When you have to do all your homework on the last day before the new term, don't complain."
Harry thought that Hermione made a valid point. "Hang on," he said, "I'm coming with you."
Hermione grinned at him. Behind them, Ron sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll come too."
"Excellent," Hermione said. "Let's get to work."
*****
By the end of the weekend, Harry had completed four of his essays, leaving him with just his Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts essays to complete. On Monday, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to take a break from their heavy workload and visit Hagrid.
"Oh, hullo, you lot," he said when he opened his door to find the three of them standing outside of it. "Come on in. I'll put on a pot o' tea."
Fang the boarhound bounded over and rested his head on Harry's lap when he sat down, drooling all over it. Harry decided to tolerate this and change his jeans later.
"Enjoyin' yer holiday?" Hagrid asked as he put the tea kettle on the stove.
"Hermione's got us doing all of our homework," Ron said. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow or Wednesday, though. It's Christmas!"
"I didn't expect you to do any homework on Christmas Eve or Christmas, Ron," Hermione said, helping Hagrid by getting out tea cups and saucers. "I won't be either."
"I always put off me homework until the las' possible second," Hagrid said. "Paid fer it, too."
"Well, at least you don't have to worry about it anymore," Ron said.
"Ah, it's important ter yer magical education," Hagrid said. "Trust me, teachers don' like gradin' 'em as much as students don' like doin' 'em."
"Then why do they force us to do it?" Ron asked.
"Because it's like I said; it's important ter yer magical education."
"Bullocks," Ron muttered under his breath.
"Say Harry, did yeh hear the rumor that there's goin' ter be more scouts at the next Quidditch match in February?" Hagrid asked.
"More? Why?" Harry asked.
"They saw some right good talent, I reckon, and want to see more. Professor Dumbledore was a bit surprised. The scouts don' usually show up at Hogwarts unless they've heard about a phenomenal player. The last time they came was ter see yer brother Charlie, Ron, when he was in his fifth year. They wanted ter tag him ter join straight away, but he went ahead and did his N.E.W.T.s, sayin' that he didn' want ter become a professional Quidditch player," Hagrid told them.
"Then who are they here to see now?" Ron asked eagerly.
Hagrid nodded to Harry. "Harry, o' course. But they're lookin' at the other players, too."
"Me?" Harry said, alarmed. "But certainly they know that I don't want to become a professional Quidditch player either. I want to become an Auror."
"Oh, yeah, Professor McGonagall told 'em that, but they won' listen. They want ter see if yeh're the perfect man fer the job," Hagrid said.
"What job?" Harry asked.
Hagrid shook his head. "I'm not quite sure what that job is, Harry, but they're lookin' at yeh fer it."
"Is there a team that needs a new Seeker?" Harry asked.
Hagrid leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard from a fellow down at the pub that the Chudley Cannons are finally sackin' Galvin Gudgeon."
Ron looked amazed. "Gudgeon? It's about time! He's a nightmare of a Seeker!"
"Actually, there was an article in yesterday's Daily Prophet about how the national teams are beginning ter take a look at players fer their rosters fer the World Cup," Hagrid said. "It's already bein' rumored that Bulgaria's tryin' ter get into contact with Viktor Krum ter ask him ter come back and be their Seeker."
"Krum?" Ron said. "He hasn't played Quidditch since the last World Cup!"
"I reckon he still knows how ter play, though," Hagrid said. "The World Cup's not summat ter worry about right now, though. Oh, yer tea's ready!"
Hagrid got up to go fetch the tea while Harry said, "Yeah, you're right. Let's just hope that England puts together a stronger line than last time. I'd like to see us get into the final."
Ron nodded. "England versus Bulgaria, now that would be a match. Hopefully we'll take Vicky down."
*****
Harry woke up on Christmas Eve to find the sun casting a reddish hue on the horizon. He yawned and listened for a moment to Ron's snoring as the other Gryffindor slept on. Harry considered going back to sleep himself, but instead decided to go down to the common room and see if Hermione was up yet. He got dressed quickly and headed down the stairs to find that she indeed was. She was knitting something.
"Good morning," he said to her, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
"'Morning," she said, taking her wand and tapping her knitting needles, causing them to spring to life and knit on their own.
"What are you knitting?" he asked her, sitting down.
"A new hat," she replied.
"For the house-elves?" Harry asked.
"No, for me, silly. I gave up trying to trick the house-elves into freedom. Speaking of which, I'm due to write another letter to the Ministry of Magic on how my petitions are coming," she said.
Personally, Harry doubted that anything had been done concerning Hermione's petitions to free the house-elves, but he didn't it would be a good idea to say that. Instead he said, "Why d'you need another hat? I thought you already had one."
"I do," she said, "but I really don't like it. It doesn't keep my head very warm."
"Oh. Well, hey, if you feel up to it, maybe after you're done you can knit me one, too," he said. "If your hats are anything like that blanket you knitted for me for Christmas last year, that would keep my head plenty warm in this cold weather."
She smiled. "I'd love to. Anything to give me more practice."
"You really like knitting, don't you?"
"It's fun," she said, taking the knitting needles back in her hands as she began to go back at it the Muggle way. "You should try it sometime. It really improves dexterity."
"Er-that's alright. I'll leave it to someone who's more creative than I am," he said. "So, d'you have any plans for today."
"I figured I'd root you on when Ron pulls you into a game of wizard's chess, attempt to defeat the two of you in Exploding Snap, and maybe play a game of Gobstones," she said. "Other than that, I was planning on doing whatever you and Ron want to do."
"I was thinking it would be fun to go outside. It looks like we're going to have sunshine today instead of more snow," he said, nodding his head toward the window, where the sky was lightening up to a pink.
"What are we going to do, build a snowman?" she asked.
"Sure, and we'll bewitch him and call him Frosty," he said, causing her to laugh.
"We'll have to find a corncob pipe," she said.
"We don't have to find anything," Harry said. "You're a genius-you can transfigure something into one."
She blushed at the compliment. "Shall I transfigure items into a button and two lumps of coal, too?"
"Don't forget about the hat," Harry added.
They were laughing as Ron came down the steps, yawning. "What's so funny?" he asked as he sat down near them.
"Hermione and I are planning on building Frosty the Snowman," Harry told him.
"Who?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's a Muggle fairy tale based off of a song."
"About a snowman? Weird," Ron said.
"The point is we're going to bewitch a snowman," Harry said. "All the children will say he can laugh and play just the same as you and me."
Hermione laughed. "But then we'll have to run and have some fun before he melts away."
Harry snickered. Ron looked thoroughly confused. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"
"No," Harry said. "We're just playing off of the lyrics. Are you in?"
Ron shrugged. "I guess."
"Brilliant. We'll go out after breakfast," Harry said.
So, after breakfast, they headed over toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry and Ron set about creating the snowman's body with their wands while Hermione hunted for things she could transfigure. She came back with a large stick, three rocks she unearthed, and a piece of paper that had been trapped underneath the snow.
Harry was now in the process of making the snowman's head, while Ron was stacking one large snowball on top of an even bigger one. "Go on, Hermione," Harry said. "Impress us."
Hermione took out her wand and, with a wave, the long stick became a pipe. "Your corncob pipe," she said. With another wave, one of the three rocks turned into a large black button. "Your button nose." Another wave and the remaining rocks changed shape and became black. "And your two eyes made out of coal."
"Excellent," he said, taking the items and heading over to Ron, the snowman's head traveling along behind him, leaving Hermione to study the paper she had found.
"Let's put his head on before we apply the face," Ron said to Harry.
"Good idea," Harry said, stuffing the head onto the rest of the snowman. He helped Ron smooth the snow down so that the head wouldn't fall off. "Here, take some of these."
Ron took the two eyes from Harry and applied them while Harry stuffed the pipe where the snowman's mouth would be and then put the nose on him. "There," Ron said. "Done."
"Not quite," Hermione said, coming over with a battered-looking top hat. "There must have been some magic in that old silk hat they found, for when they placed it on his head-" She set the hat on the snowman's head and it suddenly jerked and began to hop around. "-he began to dance around."
The three of them laughed as they watched the snowman jump around. "Blimey," Ron said, "we forgot to give him arms."
"What kind of spell did you use to make it work, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"A fairly complicated one," Hermione replied. "Something I once read about."
"It's brilliant! You did a fantastic job," he said.
"Thanks," she said, blushing.
"Er-Harry? Hermione? Frosty's hopping his way into the Forbidden Forest," Ron said.
"What?" Harry and Hermione said in unison, turning just in time to see their snowman slip behind a tree.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione chased after it until they were a good twenty feet into the forest. That was when Hermione had a clear shot and cried, "Immobulus!" The snowman stopped moving.
"Blimey," Ron murmured as they walked over to where to snowman was.
Hermione took its hat off. "Next time we do this, let's build him down by the lake."
"What should we do with him?" Harry asked.
"Let the sun deal with him," she answered. "We're not far enough into the forest yet for the trees to block out the sun. Let's leave him here."
Harry sighed. "He was fun, though."
"Yeah," Ron agreed as they turned around and left. "So long, Frosty."
*****
The rest of the day went by without any other cause for trouble. Harry went to bed feeling rather happy, looking forward to the next day. Before he fell asleep, though, he made sure to clear his mind and purge himself of his emotions. When he felt at peace, he let himself slip away.
Seconds, or what seemed like seconds, later, Harry was awakened with a jerk by the sound of the dormitory door opening with a BANG! He groaned. It was still dark outside. Who was that enthusiastic by the arrival of Christmas?
Then he heard Professor McGonagall's voice from beside Ron's bed. "Mr. Weasley, wake up. Mr. Weasley!"
"Too early," Ron groaned and rolled over.
"MR. WEASLEY!"
Ron jumped, fully awake now. "What? What is it?"
"Professor Dumbledore needs to see you immediately," McGonagall said.
"Me? Why?" Ron said, getting out of bed and putting his robe on. "What's wrong?"
"Please, come with me," McGonagall said. Harry jumped out of bed and put on his robe as well. She frowned, but nodded. "Very well, Potter, you can come too."
"What's going on, Professor?" Ron said as the three of them started down the stairs to the common room. "What's happened?"
She turned and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's better if Professor Dumbledore tells you."
Harry stared at the grave look on her face, realizing just how serious this was. "Professor, what about Hermione? Shouldn't she be notified?"
McGonagall sighed. "We don't have much time, Potter."
"But whatever this is, she should know," Harry said.
"Very well," McGonagall said. "Go get her." She pointed her wand at the door to the girls' dormitory and the door blew open. "The seventh-year girls' dormitory is on the third landing. You have five minutes before the stairs reject you."
Harry rushed up the stairs. This was, as far as he knew, the only time a boy had been in the girls' dormitory. When he reached the third landing, he pushed open the door and called out her name.
"Harry?" Hermione said in a sleepy voice.
Harry rushed to her side, briefly taking note of the fact that her bed was in the exact same spot his was all the way up on the top floor. "Come with me. Something's happened."
Hermione got up, grabbing her robe as she did so. "What's happened?"
"We don't know. Professor McGonagall won't tell us," Harry told her.
"Professor McGonagall's here?"
"Yes. She's going to take us to Dumbledore's office."
Hermione didn't say anything else as they quickly ran down to the common room. Nothing was said either as Professor McGonagall escorted them to Dumbledore's office. She led them right to his door and before she could even knock, they heard Dumbledore's voice say, "Enter."
The four of them walked in. Dumbledore was wearing robes of black, his features looking solemn. If Harry hadn't already had a bad feeling about what Dumbledore was going to tell them, he certainly had one now. He had never seen the headmaster wear that particular color, even at funerals.
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger-sit, please. That will be all, Minerva. I expect you will inform the staff?" Dumbledore said.
"I will," she said and, with a grim look back at her students, she left.
"Please, sit," Dumbledore said again to the three, who stood stock still. He conjured up three armchairs. "Mr. Weasley-Ron-you'll want to sit down, trust me."
Slowly, Ron sank into his seat, Harry and Hermione following suit. Ron gulped. "What's happened, sir?" he asked.
Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and frowned. He appeared to not know what to say, which only added to Harry's fears. All three of them sat there, waiting, for Dumbledore to speak.
"There is no easy way to tell you this, Ron, so I am just going to say it. Your father was killed earlier this evening."
Ron went rigid. His lower lip trembled as he uttered, "What? No. That can't be!"
"I'm afraid it is, Ron. I'm so terribly sorry," Dumbledore said. His eyes, which usually twinkled, now only held sadness. "Arthur was a great man. He will be sorely missed."
"No!" Ron cried. "You…you're making this up!"
"I'm afraid I'm not."
The moment Harry had heard the news, he felt like he had been stabbed. Mr. Weasley, dead? Hermione was crying next to him. "How, sir," he finally got up the nerve to ask. "How did Mr. Weasley die? Was he doing something for the Order?"
"No, Arthur wasn't doing Order work, he was doing Ministry work. He was performing a raid on a house near Sheffield and caught the Death Eater that they thought lived there unawares. The Death Eater was quick-it seemed like a reflex-and he killed Arthur Weasley before being taken down by members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," Dumbledore told them.
"If they thought it was a Death Eater's home, why didn't they take some Aurors along?" Harry asked.
"The Ministry believes that they cannot spare any Aurors at this time, at least, not for something they see as so trivial," Dumbledore said.
"But it was a Death Eater's house!" Harry cried, outraged.
"Yes. The Ministry has all of the Aurors on-duty and ready to be dispatched to various parts of the country. They remember what happened last Christmas in Edinburgh and would like to prevent that from happening again."
"At the expense of Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked.
"I doubt the Ministry believed that a Death Eater would actually be there. As far as we know, all of them are in hiding with Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said.
For once, Ron didn't even flinch at the name. When he looked back up at Dumbledore, his eyes conveyed a great anger. "Who did it? Who killed my father?" he said in a deathly calm voice.
"His name is Belial Gibbon and he is now on his way to Azkaban," Dumbledore said.
"Gibbon," Harry murmured. "That's the same bloke who killed my aunt!"
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed.
Harry sat there, a sick and twisted feeling forming in his gut. The same man who had killed his aunt had killed Mr. Weasley. He wished suddenly that the dementors were still at Azkaban. He wished that the dementors were there to suck out the slimy Death Eater's soul.
No, you don't, said Hermione's voice in his head. No one deserves that, no matter what their crimes.
He sighed. Hermione was still crying beside him. She had her face buried in her hands, but Harry could still see the tears falling down her face. She gave a loud sniffle and Harry put his arm around her before placing his other hand on Ron's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
"I want to go home," Ron said through clenched teeth. "I need to go home and be with my family."
"I thought you might," Dumbledore said. "I will send you home immediately, along with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, if you wish it."
He nodded. "Yeah, I want them to come."
"Very well. I will give you ten minutes to gather up some clothing and such and I will meet you back here," Dumbledore said.
"You can go ahead now, Ron," Harry said. "I'll get your things for you. That is, if that's alright with you, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded. "I will see the two of you shortly. Now, Ron, if you'd come over here…"
Harry and Hermione moved as quickly as they could. They practically ran back to the common room and up to their respective dorms. When Harry had gathered enough clothing for both him and Ron to last the rest of the holiday, he ran back into the common room, where Hermione was waiting.
"I can't believe he's gone," she said.
"I can't either," Harry murmured. "Come on, let's get back to Dumbledore's office. We should be with the Weasleys."
Hermione shrunk down all of the clothes so that they could stuff them into the pockets of their robes. Quickly, the made their way back to Dumbledore's office and knocked. Dumbledore opened the door and ushered them inside.
"Mr. Weasley is back safely at the Burrow. Now it's your turn." He took a handful of what Harry recognized to be Floo powder and threw it into his fireplace. When the flames turned emerald green, he said, "Off you go."
"Good-bye, sir," both Harry and Hermione said, stepping into the fireplace. Then, they both yelled, "The Burrow," and were on their way.
Harry was used to the spinning and the warm, tickling sensation caused by the Floo powder. He simply kept his elbows tucked in as both he and Hermione passed grate after grate. Finally, they ended up in the Weasleys' fireplace and stepped out, brushing the ash and soot off of their robes.
The Weasleys weren't in the living room, but he could hear voices murmuring and the sounds of someone sobbing coming from the kitchen. Giving Hermione a grim look, he followed the sounds and entered the kitchen with Hermione at his side.
"Harry! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried, her face blotched with tears. "You came!"
She ran over and seized the two of them in a fierce hug, crying all over their robes. "Arthur! Arthur!" she wailed.
Harry patted her awkwardly on the back, looking around the room. Everyone was there. Ron was sitting down at the table near Ginny, who was sobbing into her arms. Charlie was next to her, trying to comfort her, but had a great look of pain on his face. The twins, Fred and George, stood near the backdoor, ashen-faced. Bill was sitting, slumped over, at the other end of the table with a woman sitting next to him who Harry had not expected to see-Fleur Delacour. She seemed to be whispering to him, offering him words of comfort.
"First Percy, now Arthur," Mrs. Weasley moaned, still crying on his and Hermione's shoulders.
"Let me make all of you some tea," Hermione said, shifting Mrs. Weasley fully onto Harry's shoulder. She flipped open cupboards and starting getting all of the necessary equipment out.
"Erm-let me help you to a chair, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, guiding her over to the chair next to Ron.
"I'm so happy you and Hermione came," Mrs. Weasley said with a hiccup. "I told Arthur that he shouldn't go out on that raid tonight. It's Christmas Eve, after all! He said he had to do it, though; the Ministry wanted it done as soon as possible."
It was then that Harry noticed it, the clock that the Weasleys owned, telling where each member of the family was. Harry couldn't help but notice that the hand bearing Mr. Weasley's name had fallen off and that the clock lay on the floor, its glass shattered, as if Mrs. Weasley had dropped it.
Hermione poured everyone a cup of tea. Nobody touched theirs. A silence descended over the kitchen, only broken by the occasional sniffle from one of them, usually from either Mrs. Weasley or Ginny.
"It's not fair," Ron said at last. "It's just not fair."
"Nothing's fair," Bill said somberly. "We've been up for hours. It's nearly five in the morning. We should go to bed."
"I won't be able to sleep," Fred said. George nodded in agreement.
Mrs. Weasley sniffled. "Five o'clock? Why then, it's been Christmas for five hours. Arthur, oh Arthur, you're missing Christmas."
"We need to get some rest," Bill said, more firmly. "Dad wouldn't have wanted us staying up all night, moping around, especially on Christmas."
"We're grieving," Ginny said, lifting her head up from her arms. Her eyes were swollen red and puffy.
"I know we are," Bill said. "But we've got to take care of ourselves, too. Dad wouldn't have wanted it any other way."
Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes with an old handkerchief. "Bill's right. Arthur wouldn't want us to grieve excessively. Yes, let us all go to bed." She gave a loud sniff. "Then we can decide…we can decide what we need to do tomorrow morning. Charlie, would you mind setting up another bed in Ron's room for Harry? And for yourself, of course."
"Sure, Mum," Charlie said, getting up.
"I'll help set up a bed for Hermione in Ginny's room," Mrs. Weasley said.
"No, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "I'll do it. You just go upstairs and try to rest."
Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "Thank you, dear."
Harry followed Ron and Charlie up the stairs to Ron's room. Charlie conjured up a bed for both himself and Harry before Harry remembered that he had his and Ron's clothing in his pockets.
"Here," he said, taking the clothes out of his pockets and enlarging them back to their normal size. "That should be enough to get us through the rest of the holiday."
"Thanks, mate," Ron said quietly, flopping down onto his bed. "Why did this happen?"
Harry frowned. "I dunno," he said.
"I'd give anything to have Dad back," he said. "I'd give up my prefect's badge, my position on the Quidditch team…hell, I'd give years off of my life."
"All of those won't bring Dad back, though, Ron," Charlie said. "The only comfort any of us can take from this is that he's in a better place."
"How d'you know?" Ron said. "How d'you know he's in a better place? None of us knows what it's like to be dead, do we? We have no idea what place you go to when you die."
"It's got to be a better place than here," Charlie said.
"Dumbledore thinks that death is only the next great adventure," Harry said.
"That would be Dumbledore's way of thinking," Charlie said. "Come on, let's try to get some sleep."
The three of them got into their beds, but, as Harry could tell as he stared up at the ceiling, none of them fell asleep for hours.
*****
Harry woke up the next morning to sound of feet shuffling across the floor. He opened his eyes to find the room brilliantly light. The sun was shining outside and reflecting off of the snow-covered ground. Harry put on his glasses and squinted up to see Charlie, fully dressed, exit the room with an armload of stuff. Harry groaned and rolled over. Ron was still in bed, snoring.
There was a knock on the door about five minutes later. Hermione poked her head in. "Anyone awake?"
"Yeah," Harry grunted. "I am."
She came in, her hands full of wrapped parcels. "Happy Christmas," she said gloomily.
Harry sat up and made room for her on his bed. "Happy Christmas to you too," he said and saw his own pile of presents at the foot of his bed. "It's not really all that happy, though, is it?"
"No," she said, dumping her pile on his bed. "I see Ron's still out."
"It took awhile for all of us to fall asleep, so yeah," he said, shrugging. "D'you think we should wake him up?"
"It's probably best to let him sleep," Hermione said, watching Ron. "He needs it, what with the night he had."
He nodded in agreement. "Did you want to open our presents or something?" he asked.
"We might as well," she said, taking the first parcel off the top of the pile. "Oh, it's from Mum and Dad."
Harry steadily went through his pile, not feeling very enthusiastic. Hagrid gave him a large, homemade fruitcake, while he received yet another Weasley jumper to add to his collection. Ron gave him a box filled with Honeydukes sweets, while Fred and George gave him a box filled with a lot of his favorite gimmicks from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Hermione had given him two things: a book called The History of the Aurors and also a knitted red and gold hat, causing him to chuckle.
"When did you do this?" he asked.
"Two weeks ago," she replied, grinning. "I was so happy when you told me yesterday that you wouldn't mind it if I knitted you a new hat."
"I bet you were."
She looked down at the last present in her pile. "Oh, this one's from you!" she said and began to open it. There was a moment's pause after she opened the box before she whispered, "My God. Harry, it's beautiful." She then pulled gold necklace out of the box with a lone teardrop-shaped sapphire pendant dangling from it. She stared at it. "Where did you get it?"
"Sirius's vault, believe it or not," Harry said. When she gave him an alarmed look, he added, "I had the Gringotts goblins check it over for curses and the like. It came up clean."
She unhooked the clasp. "Could you?" she said and he leaned over behind her to hook the necklace around her neck.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"It's beautiful, Harry. I'm shocked," she said.
It was then that Harry noticed he had one last present. It was small and thin. He picked it up and shook it. "What's this?"
"Oh-er-just open it," Hermione said, turning red.
He eyed her curiously as he did so. Once it was open, he recognized the gift immediately. "The mirror," he breathed. "Sirius's mirror. You-you fixed it," he said to Hermione, holding up the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him two years ago. "How?"
"I had Ron swipe it from your trunk that day when I also had him swipe your pager," she said. "I wanted to fix it for you, since you obviously couldn't bring yourself to do it."
He felt tears form in his eyes. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers in a light kiss before pulling her into his embrace. "Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you. I think this may be the worst Christmas I've ever had, but you just made it a little brighter."
He heard her sniffle somewhat on his shoulder. "You're welcome," was all she said.