A Very Weasley Christmas

A Very Weasley Christmas

T'was the afternoon before Christmas

And all through the house,

Every wizard was stirring, each silent as a mouse...

"FRED WEASLEY, IF YOU DON'T STOP DOING THAT YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!!"

So much for "silent as a mouse."

Though most intelligent people believe it wise not to annoy a man with a dragon's fang dangling from his ear, Fred Weasley didn't often listen to words of wisdom. He was grinning mischievously as he observed his brother, Bill, battling with the strand of Fairy Lights that he had bewitched to wrap around Bill.

"Really Fred," Hermione scolded disapprovingly, "we should finish decorating." She was helping Harry and Ginny put sparkling silver strands of tinsel on the already glimmering Christmas tree. "And Bill, you shouldn't yell. Remember, your mum is trying to get some rest before tomorrow."

Bill, having finally disentangled the Fairy Lights from his face, mumbled, "You'd yell too if your brother had tried to strangle you with Christmas decorations." Apparently, Hermione hadn't heard this comment, so Bill vented his anger by moodily throwing the magical string of lights to the ground (the enchanted fairies that lined the string let out small squeaks of displeasure as they collided with the floor.) Before anyone could say anything else, the front door banged open.

"Happy Christmas everyone!" Charlie said as he entered the room, carrying a box of what presumably were presents.

George bounded over to his brother. "Hello Charlie! What's in the box?"

"Never you mind," he answered evasively. He glanced around the room and asked, "Where's Mum?"

"She said she needed a rest from all of this running around," Fred answered gloomily as he hung more tinsel on the tree. "She gets to sleep while we put up all of these decorations. And she's making Ronniekins bake Christmas cookies."

Charlie suddenly looked a bit concerned. "Ohhh, I don't envy him. Mum's bewitched the kitchenware to bite people or spontaneously combust if the person doesn't use it properly."

"So that's what those squeals were!" George exclaimed.

Fred piped up, "Yeah, we thought it was the cookie dough being tortured! 'Help me, help me!'" he mimicked in a tiny, squeaky voice.

"I heard that!" came a muffled voice from the kitchen. Everyone laughed; Ron didn't sound particularly amused.

After everyone stopped chuckling, Charlie said, "I suppose Percy couldn't make it?"

"Yeah. He says that he's really busy at the Ministry and he can't leave. Git," George snarled. Charlie rolled his eyes before speaking again.

"Hey, do you all know what Dad's doing in the shed?" he asked the group.

Harry's head popped out from behind the tree. He seemed oblivious to the fact that there was a large amount of tinsel stuck to his messy hair. He replied, "I dunno, but when he left, he said something about a 'special Christmas Eve treat.'"

Charlie furrowed his brow and said, "I heard odd noises coming from the shed. It sounded like a hippogriff being tortured."

"He's probably tampering with that muggle stuff that he keeps in there," Ginny sighed as she sat on the floor, draping tinsel over the lower branches. "Mum's going to be thrilled."

Charlie smiled and shook his head. "Well, I'd better go put this upstairs," he said, making his way to the staircase with the box.

The next few minutes passed without any major incidents, except for Bill nearly knocking over the Christmas tree as he chased Fred, who had tried to tie tinsel around Bill's ankles. The group soon finished adding shiny Christmas bulbs to the tree, and they stood back to admire their work. However, the peaceful silence was soon interrupted.

"AAAHHHHH!!!" came a loud, feminine scream from inside the kitchen. Abandoning the glittering tree, everyone sprinted to the doorway leading to the kitchen. A rather odd sight greeted them.

Ron, wearing a pink flowered apron, was standing in front of the magical oven. Black smoke and brilliant orange flames were billowing out from the open oven door. Ron was waving a dirty hand towel like a madman as he tried to blow out the flames. He was also swearing profusely, as though the flames would be disgusted with his colorful language and disappear. Neither of these attempts seemed to be working.

"Quick, you lot, get cups of water and throw the water on the flames!" Bill yelled to Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. He continued, "Ron, you help them! George, Fred- Water spells on three! One, two, three!" Jets of water sprayed out of their wands just as four glasses of water were dumped on the flames. After several more cups of water had been emptied over the fire, the flames disappeared, leaving a cookie tray and a dozen charcoal black lumps that were at one time cookies.

Fred was the first to break the silence. "Yum," he said as he examined the cookies, which were almost indistinguishable from the dark cookie tray. Everyone except Ron smiled weakly.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING ON HERE!!" roared a bedraggled-looking Mrs. Weasley as she appeared at the threshold to the kitchen. Her hair was tangled in innumerable knots, and her eyes were blazing as she observed the mess that was her kitchen. "Ronald Weasley, what did you do to my kitchen?!"

"I didn't do anything," Ron said stoutly, his ears turning flaming red. "It was your stupid oven that set itself on fire when I left the cookies in there one minute too long!"

Mrs. Weasly appeared to swell in size as she gathered enough air for her oncoming tirade. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE LIVED IN THIS HOUSE FOR SIXTEEN YEARS AND YOU'VE NEVER ONCE WATCHED ME BAKE CHRISTMAS COOKIES?!" she bellowed at her son. As she continued, Ron's face grew redder and redder until heat seemed to radiate from his cheeks.

"YOU'RE LUCKY OUR HOUSE DIDN'T BURN D- what was that?" Mrs. Weasley cut off, alarmed by a sound so loud that it even drowned out her screeching. Everyone listened closely until finally Harry discerned a familiar voice from the rest of the cacophony.

"Hey Ron, isn't that your dad's voice?" The group strained to hear Mr. Weasley's deep voice, until finally everyone could hear his distinctive tone.

As they continued to listen, Charlie leapt down the stairs and screamed, "What is that?!" He stopped running when he got closer to the bewildered group.

"We might as well go outside to see what it is!" Ginny shouted over the tumult. "C'mon, let's go!" So the seven Weasleys and their two guests approached the front door with great caution and inched the door open. The volume of the noise was so loud it nearly blasted them back into the living room. Again, the scene into which they walked was somewhat bizarre.

Five leathery-looking creatures wearing Father Christmas hats were looking at small books containing Christmas carols. They seemed to be attempting to sing "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." The creatures, which wizards call gnomes, couldn't sing to save their lives. The only caroler who was singing something that resembled a melody was a tall, red-headed man standing behind the gnomes. He was positively beaming.

"Happy Christmas everyone!" Mr. Weasley yelled to the shocked group of observers. "I've been training them since this morning! Aren't they wonderful?" His face glowed with pride as he looked down on the magical creatures.

"WONDERFUL?!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, her voice starting to sound slightly hoarse. "Are you mad?!"

Mr. Weasley's face fell as he spoke again. "What, you don't like them?"

As Mrs. Weasley commenced explaining to her husband what was wrong with his "special treat," the remainder of the group was still being tortured by the gnomes' singing.

"Please someone, make it stop!" George moaned with his hands pressed tightly over his ears. "My virgin ears can't take it!"

With his fingers stuffed in his ears, Fred screamed, "Maybe if we force-fed them Ron's cookies, they'll go away for good!" This earned him a very dirty look from Ron.

It appeared that Mrs. Weasley had finally convinced her husband that the singing was NOT, in fact, enjoyable. Mr. Weasley took out his wand and Silenced the gnomes, then followed everyone inside. There, Mrs. Weasley proceeded to order people to do all of the various chores around the house ("Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Ron, Bill, and Charlie- you all finish putting up Fairy Lights in the sitting room. Arthur, you can go upstairs and wrap presents while I clean up the oven, bake cookies, and then fix dinner.") No one dared to argue with a lady whose hair looked as though it had been twirled around a rogue blender, so everyone retreated to his or her assigned station.

As the younger Weasleys and their guests started untangling yards of Fairy Lights ("Who in the name of Merlin tangles them every year?!" Ron implored in an anguished voice), George pulled a sticky sweet out of his pocket. It was time for Fred's Christmas gift.

"Would you like this?" George asked him in an off-hand way. "I just found it in my pocket."

Fred grabbed the piece of candy and popped it into his mouth, mumbling, "Fanks." George grinned and walked away.

"There has to be a logical way to do this!" Hermione exclaimed crossly as she stared at a web of tangled lights.

"There is not one logical or effective way to untangle lights," Harry replied. He was very annoyed; he had been battling with the lights that had snaked their way around his body. He tried to take a step, only to find himself face-first on the floor; apparently more lights had wrapped around his ankles.

Suddenly, Ginny pointed to a red-headed lump on the ratty couch and cried, "Look at Fred!" Everyone turned toward the couch and sure enough, Fred was there, sprawled out with his mouth wide open. He was snoring loudly.

"Don't wake him!" George hissed. "I've been trying to do this," he whispered, "but we've been so busy at the store I haven't had the chance." Everyone eyed him with bemused expressions. He continued, "I gave him a new product I made called a Sleeping Sherbet Sweet. It's made out of peppermint and hot cocoa. It'll put anyone to sleep," George said proudly.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and asked, "So now what are we going to do with Sleeping Beauty here?"

George's smile widened. "Okay, this is what I have planned..."

About a half hour later, all was set. On George's instructions, the group had bound Fred's still body with Fairy Lights; placed a Father Christmas hat on his head; put a twinkling Christmas star on top of the hat; and written, "AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT" across his forehead in blinking red, green, and gold letters. Everyone was doubled over in silent laughter while George raced upstairs to retrieve his newly-purchased camera. When he returned, they stepped out of the way so George would have a clear view of Fred in his recently-acquired outfit.

FLASH! CLICK!

Fred woke up abruptly. Something didn't seem right. He looked up at his siblings and their friends; George was waving a camera, and the rest of them where laughing. He looked down at himself, only to discover several yards of glittering Fairy Lights criss-crossing over his body.

"GEORGE!!" he bellowed as he catapulted off the couch, dragging the gleaming decorations with him. He snatched several pillows off of the couch and pelted George's retreating back with them. The rest of the group laughed so hard that most were on the floor shaking with mirth. It appeared to be a typical Weasley Christmas Eve.

Silent night,

Holy night...

Hours later, everyone had retreated to their rooms and retired to their beds. Except, of course, for Fred and George.

"No Fred, you have to use the Ees Spell! That'll allow us to see from the open end," George whispered to his twin as they sat in their dark bedroom. Fred was holding a slimy ball of rubber. The object was all white except for a small place in the center, which was colored black and green. There was a long, pale string leading from the round thing, and it ended with a large hole resembling a suction cup.

Fred followed George's advice, having gotten revenge for the "AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT" incident earlier when Fred locked George outdoors in the cold for fifteen minutes. Fred examined the invention and said, "It looks good. Now all we have to do is test it."

George looked mischievously excited. "Let's use the Extendable Eyes to see what presents we got!" Fred's face instantly mirrored the look on his twin's face as he stuck the Extendable Eyes over his own eyes. The thing magically sprang to life and squeezed its way under the door.

The landing was almost completely black as Fred directed the Eye along the floor. When the Eye turned the corner, however, everything seemed lighter. There was a bright light coming from under Charlie's door.

"Looks like someone else's awake, too," Fred informed George as the Eye approached the light. He pulled the end of the Extendable Eyes off his face. "Should we have a look?"

George looked at him as though he had sprouted several extra heads. "Are you mad?! Of course we should. It's part of our brotherly duties," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He held out his hand and continued, "Now it's my turn. Hand it over."

George directed the Extendable Eyes to Charlie's door and, with some work, he managed to guide the Eye into the room. His own eyes widened so much that the suction cup end of the Extendable Eyes popped off of his face.

"What's the matter?" Fred asked with a quizzical look on his face. In answer, George mutely handed him the Extendable Eyes. Fred pressed the string to his eyes, and indeed was almost as shocked as George.

Charlie was sitting up on his bed with the box he had been carrying when he arrived at the Burrow next to him. He was holding a rough looking creature with green scales. When the beast turned its ugly head, Fred knew instantly that Charlie was baby-sitting a young dragon. Charlie, however, didn't seem to mind. He appeared to be rocking the baby dragon in his arms and talking to it at the same time, though Fred couldn't hear what he was saying. Charlie looked extremely content. The dragon, on the other had, looked thoroughly unamused.

"Has he lost his bloody mind?!" Fred hissed to George as he continued gazing into the Extendable Eyes. Charlie was now tickling the dragon under its scaly chin.

George, who had regained the ability to speak, said in an awed voice, "I wonder what he's saying to it." He glanced at Fred. "Did you bring any Extendable Ears?"

Fred shook his head and replied, "No. But we can always listen the old fashioned way," he suggested, standing up and moving toward the bedroom door. George followed him, and they stepped out onto the quiet landing.

They tip-toed to Charlie's door and stopped. When they put their ears to the door, they were able to hear Charlie's voice. He wasn't talking, though.

"Rock a-bye baby on the tree top," the twins heard Charlie singing softly. They exchanged amused glances and continued listening. When the song was finished, Charlie began speaking to the creature in a baby voice ("Aren't you so cute!" Charlie gushed.) The amused looks immediately turned into looks of utter revulsion. Fred mouthed, "Is he insane?!"

Suddenly, Fred and George heard a noise from downstairs -- where the boys' parents slept. They stared at each other with slightly panicked expressions on their faces before they began silently sneaking back to the bedroom. Fred closed the door quietly before speaking.

"Should we tell Mum?"

George spent a moment contemplating what they should do. After a minute, he said slowly, "No, not yet. Mum's already going mad with cooking and cleaning and everything. She'd implode if she heard that there's a dragon in her house right before Christmas dinner."

Fred grinned wickedly and asked, "But what about after Christmas dinner?"

George smiled widely and replied, "You're reading my mind. We'd better go to bed now, though. Who knows if Mum's having one of her mad sleepless nights and is wandering around while inspecting the bedrooms."

I wish it could be Christmas

Everyday...

"Hermione, get up! It's Christmas!" Ginny exclaimed as she hurriedly put on a red, long-sleeved shirt and her father's old Father Christmas hat. Her face was glowing with contained excitement.

A brown mass attached to a nightgown appeared to rise above the bedclothes in the bed next to Ginny. Hermione's voice came from behind the brown tangle and said, "Merry Christmas Ginny! Would you mind handing me my comb? I can't see anything when I get out of bed because of my stupid hair."

After both girls had dressed and put their shoes on, Ginny leapt off her bed and started for the door, but she was delayed; she had been in such a hurry that she had tied her shoes together, and she was sent flying across the floor. Once Ginny's shoes had been put on correctly, she and Hermione climbed the stairs leading to Ron and Harry's room.

"Morning!" Hermione shouted cheerfully through the door, smiling widely.

"Don't come in here!" Ron's muffled voice spoke. He sounded slightly panicked and desperate.

Hermione spat back, "Happy Christmas to you too, Ron. What's the matter with you? Did the Christmas Spirit bite you or something?"

Harry's voice now drifted through the door. "We're changing now. Just wait a minute, and we'll be out."

Ginny crossed her arms and said impatiently, "Hurry up. You don't want to miss opening the presents."

The boys emerged soon after that.

The group started hurrying down the many flights of stairs. When they reached the stairs leading from the landing where Fred, George, and Charlie's rooms were, they heard a door slam and what sounded like a stampede coming toward them.

"Get a move on there, c'mon, move," George ordered as he and Fred appeared at the back of the group, trying to get them to run faster and pushing people out of their way. "Move!"

Hermione scowled as Fred bumped her into Ron, and she snapped, "Fred, don't do that; you're going to make us all fall- AAAHHH!!"

"OOF!!"

"WHO-"

"AACK!!"

"WHAT THE-"

"OUCH!!"

"WHY-"

"FRED!!"

"BLOODY H-"

THUD.

Everyone lay in a tangle heap at the bottom of the staircase, each person looking the worse for wear. Ginny's Father Christmas hat had been pulled down over her eyes and the white fluffy ball had been shoved into her mouth; Hermione's hair had once again obscured her face from view; Fred's foot was smashed into George's nose as Fred attempted to get away from Ron's flinging fists; and Harry was at the bottom of the pile with only his shoes showing.

"Fred, George- what have I told you about running down the stairs?!" Mrs. Weasley scolded as she, Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sat around the tree holding presents. Once everyone had extracted themselves from the mess, they each wished everybody a happy Christmas and looked under the tree for more gifts. Then the group started ripping open presents in a relatively systematic manner.

There was a soft rapping at the front door after "The Great Unwrapping" had finished. Mr. Weasley waded through the sea of wrapping paper, trying to get to the front door. Looking confused, he muttered softly, "Who could this be?" He reached for the doorknob.

It opened to reveal a short man with a grey beard. He was bundled up in an over-large coat and was rubbing his hands together rapidly.

"Hello," the stranger said awkwardly, "I, uh, I was wondering if you could help me." He looked up at Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Weasley replied politely, "Of course I'll help you. Here," he opened the door wider, "come in. And please excuse the mess; we just finished our Christmas morning." The strange man glanced around the room silently, so Arthur continued what seemed to be a one-way conversation. "Um... Well, I didn't know that there were any more of us in Ottery St. Catchpole."

The man stared at Mr. Weasley and asked, "You mean electricians?"

"Eklecticious?" Mr. Weasley tried to repeat unsuccessfully. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he exclaimed, "Oh, you mean the muggles who work with eclitricity!"

Mrs. Weasley tried to shush her husband, but the bearded muggle had already been distracted by something else.

"Genius," he breathed as he examined the Fairy Lights that brightened the room. "These are amazing! They don't even need a plug!" He practically shouted with joy. The muggle turned to Mr. Weasley and inquired, "Where did you buy these?"

Mr. Weasley, who hadn't quite figured out that his guest was not only a muggle but also an electrician, started to say, "Oh, you must have seen them around Diagon Alley," before his wife cut him off in mid-sentence.

"How may we help you?"

The stranger looked back and forth between the two Weasley elders. "Well, I was looking for 240 Cuarto Valley Road in Ottery St. Catchpole, but I'd really like to know where I can get those lights. They're an electrical miracle!"

Realization then dawned on Mr. Weasley. "Wait, you're a muggle!"

The Weasley children and Harry and Hermione began silently shaking with laughter as they watched Arthur's ecstatic expression, Molly's purple face, and the rather perplexed look of the muggle.

"Well, I'm an electrician, but--"

Mr. Weasley interrupted, becoming more excited by the second, "I have to take you to my shed! I just received the new muggle eclictic thingy- it's called a mickey-wavie!"

"No Arthur," Molly ordered. Unfortunately, this didn't deter him. Nor did anything else.

"Molly," he whispered conspicuously, "this could really help me at the Ministry of Magic! I--"

"Are you all mad! There's no Ministry of Magic!"

"Please, just for an hour Molly--"

"I'm calling the police!"

"Molly, no!"

"Ovliviate!"

There was a long silence, during which the muggle appeared to be utterly dazed and Mrs. Weasley pasted a fake smile on her face.

"I'm sorry sir," she said softly, "but we can't help you. If you go down the hill a ways, someone there might be able to help you. Happy Christmas!" she grimaced as she lead the muggle out the door. The door shut with a snap, and she turned slowly toward her husband.

"Kids," she hissed menacingly through gritted teeth, "I want you to get out the pots and pans in the kitchen so we can start on Christmas dinner. Now."

They did as they were told and exited the room as fast as they could then proceeded to burst into laughter as they listened to Molly's shouts drifting from the living room. Hermione was the only person looking somewhat composed, but even so the occasional smile and giggle escaped her control.

"That was classic!" George wheezed as he clutched the counter for support. "An electrician! I'd bet you a thousand Galleons that the odds of that happening were one in ten thousand!"

Ginny looked up as she pulled a large saucepan from a lower cabinet and chuckled, "Well, no one's ever said that Dad isn't the odd one of the bunch, right?" Everyone except for Ron nodded his or her head in agreement. Ron looked slightly skeptical.

"I dunno. The electrician part was classic, but now Mum's going to be in an awful mood for the rest of the day. And we have to spend the day stuck in the kitchen with her." Ron glanced around the room, where everyone else was contemplating this statement.

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley burst into the kitchen, and, upon seeing that they weren't working, screamed, "Get to work now, or no Christmas dinner for any of you!" As one, the children who hadn't been working sprung to the nearest cabinet and started pulling out assorted pots and pans. Being left out of Christmas dinner wasn't on anyone's Christmas list. Neither was upsetting an already furious Mrs. Weasley.

Three hours later, most of the cooking operations were under way. Mr. Weasley, George, and Ginny were in charge of making Hollandaise sauce; Charlie, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were trying to cook a turkey ("Does this stupid thing ever get cooked?!"); and Fred and Bill were washing the potatoes to be used for baked potatoes. Mrs. Weasley was the head of all of the operations in the kitchen.

"No Ron, you have to turn the oven on!" Mrs. Weasley said sounding thoroughly exasperated. "And no, the turkey won't burn as long as you take it out of the oven at the right time! Why are these simple tasks so difficult for you all?!" she questioned the occupants of the room, flinging her hands up in disgust. Unfortunately, she raised her hands at the exact same moment as Mr. Weasley was offering her a spoon full of Hollandaise. Mrs. Weasley's hand collided with the spoon, causing the sauce to spray all over her hair. Mr. Weasley looked positively mortified as he watched his wife's ears begin to smoke. However, she also seemed resigned to the fact that she wasn't having a good Christmas, so she silently washed the hollandaise away and went back to monitoring her subjects.

The rest of the preparation of the food passed with only several minor incidents ("Fred and Bill Weasley, you may NOT play catch with the potatoes!"), and there was a few hours left in the late afternoon to rest before the great Christmas dinner. Mrs. Weasley retired to her room, declaring that if she heard one single sound, she would personally bury the person causing the commotion in a mound of snow for several hours. Mr. Weasley poured eggnog for everyone, then he spiked his own glass with a shot of firewhiskey. They all sat in the living room, sipping eggnog and talking about their recently acquired presents.

"No Hermione, I don't want to look at your book. It's Christmas vacation for Merlin's sake, and N.E.W.T's aren't until next year! Ginny, why did you get her that N.E.W.T. preparation guide?!" Ron seethed as he gave Hermione her book back. He was holding it as though it were poisonous to the touch.

Hermione scowled as she reached for her book. Ginny leaned around Hermione so that she might look at Ron and hissed, "Because she asked me to get it for her. At least she cares about her studies," she glared at her brother.

"Kids, no arguing," Mr. Weasley groaned as he leaned back in his chair. He took a sip of his alcoholic eggnog and said, "It's Christmas for goodness sakes. We will all be kind to each other today if it kills us." He sounded exhausted, yet determined.

Ron and Ginny stopped bickering and Charlie took up the conversation.

"So, how's business at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes going?" he looked up at the twins, who had been whispering in a corner for several minutes.

"Well," George began as he grinned in Fred's direction, "you've already seen a demonstration of our upcoming Sleeping Sherbet Sweet by Fred here. I'm going to use that lovely picture of you on the packages for them," he laughed wickedly, earning him a pillow in the face.

"You know what, George?" Fred asked as he continued to beat George over the head with a pillow. "I think I've thought of a new product. Biting Pillows."

Everyone howled with laughter, causing Mrs. Weasley to come roaring down the stairs, shouting, "I WARNED YOU!! OUT!! OUT!!" She pointed to the front door, so all of the younger people in the house trudged out into the deep snow. Their exile wasn't wasted however; a few minutes after their banishment began, a furious snowball fight commenced when Bill chucked a huge chunk of snow at Charlie from behind a tree. The battle continued until Mrs. Weasley came to retrieve the group so that they could help her continue the preparations for dinner.

The sun set behind the hills surrounding the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Apparently, this was the signal for more chaos to break loose in the Weasley household.

"Oh my goodness, we forgot to make the broccoli!"

Though Mrs. Weasley seemed upset about this oversight, not many other people appeared to be too concerned with the problem. It was a tradition in the Weasley's house that, when everyone had drenched their broccoli with Hollandaise, Ginny and the twins would dive into the extra-large vat of the sauce with spoons. "Do we need broccoli as an excuse to eat Hollandaise?" they demanded whenever their parents protested. Therefore, Ginny, Fred, and George were standing behind Mrs. Weasley grinning broadly as she made the announcement concerning the forgotten vegetable.

Mrs. Weasley raced around the kitchen, doling out assignments to bystanders as though she were planning for the end of the world. She panted, "Arthur, you, Bill, and Charlie start making the broccoli. Go as quickly as you can; I'd like to eat sometime before Valentine's Day." She turned toward the twins and instructed, "Boys, you stay here and check on the baked potatoes every once in a while to see if they're done." Finally, she rounded on Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. "You lot, start setting the table. Be very careful with the dishes; they belonged to my aunt and my grandmother. They're worth more than any of you." Ron and Ginny threw filthy looks at their mother as the group began transporting mismatched pieces of silver onto the enormous table.

"Someone sure as heck got up on the wrong side of bed today," Ron said through gritted teeth as he slammed goblets onto the table. "'It's worth more than any of you'" he mimicked as he bent down to retrieve more goblets from a dusty cupboard in the dinning room. "You'd think we were total strangers."

Hermione explained calmly as she put knives on the table, "She's had a very stressful day. I'm sure she didn't mean it, Ron. She'll be better once we everything has calmed down a bit." At this point, Fred poked his head through the door connecting the kitchen to the dining room. His eyes were narrowed slightly.

"Listen," he started darkly, "Stay out of Mum's way. She just threatened dad with the meat knife, saying that if they don't get the broccoli right, then," he made a stabbing gesture and returned to the kitchen.

Ron turned back to Hermione. "Since when has this house ever 'calmed down a bit'?" he asked in an annoyingly superior tone. Hermione didn't say anything; Ron's argument couldn't be denied. Everyone continued setting the table in silence, listening closely to what was going on in the kitchen in case the broccoli didn't cook correctly.

At about seven o' clock that evening, the eight Weasleys and Harry and Hermione were seated at that same table. The meat knife lay on the kitchen counter unused, to the immense relief of everyone. Plates and platters of delicious-looking foods, waiting to be consumed, sat on top of the stained white tablecloth. Mrs. Weasley sliced the turkey, and so began Christmas dinner. The dishes of foods were passed around the table so everyone would get their fair share of the feast. It soon became very quiet at the table as everyone began eating.

Charlie said in a muffled voice, "Fred, Bill- you all really did a good job on these potatoes. They're delicious!" The chefs grinned as best they could with their mouths stuffed with food. Charlie continued, addressing everyone at the table, "Has anyone tried our turkey yet?" No one had, so everyone quickly cut off a piece and began eating it. There was silence for a moment as the group began chewing the turkey with theirs eyes as wide as saucers. As one, they all grabbed for their cups of water and drained them.

"Charlie, what marinade did you use?" Mrs. Weasley choked, getting up from the table.

Charlie looked slightly confused as he responded, "Well, I used that red one that's next to the salt and pepper in the kitchen. Isn't that the one you told me to use?" She didn't respond; she walked to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of that Charlie said he had used. She returned holding two bottles; one was a tan color, while the other one was a scarlet red. Her face was identical to the color of the latter.

"You used Helga's Howlin' Jalepeño Sauce?" Mrs. Weasley hissed, shaking the red bottle violently. Charlie looked at the bottle and nodded mutely, apparently too stunned to say anything. His mother continued, "You were supposed to use Merlin's Magnificent Marinade!" She looked around the room and sighed deeply. "Oh well, there's not much we can do about it now. Those of you who can tolerate spicy foods, eat the turkey. If you can't, then don't. But let this be a warning to everyone: never use a sauce without my permission first," she finished, eying Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione closely.

Now that the initial excitement was over, the group could relax and talk with one another. Harry, Ron, and Charlie were at the far end of the table discussing Gryffindor's heightened chances of winning the Quidditch Cup.

Ron said thickly through a huge mouthful of potato, "If we beat Ravenclaw, then that'll put us in the lead, won't it?"

"Yes," Charlie answered immediately. "But how good is the Ravenclaw team? I remember that they were pretty good in my day, but I don't know about now."

Harry looked up and responded, "They're okay, but I think that we can beat them fairly easily. Could you pass the potatoes, Charlie?"

Next to them, Hermione was talking to Ginny about careers to choose from after graduating from Hogwarts. Ginny was starting to tell her about the jobs at the Ministry that she, Ginny, had heard her father talk about.

"I don't think you'd fancy being an Unspeakable-"

"Oh no!" Hermione exclaimed, looking a bit revolted at the very idea. "You know what I'd really like to do?" she glanced at the ceiling, deep in thought. "I'd really love to take S.P.E.W. further. It's an issue that needs to be resolved, and it's not going to go away any time soon, so why not?" And Hermione was off, explaining her plans to Ginny.

Fred and George were taking advantage of Ginny's inattention by eating the leftover Hollandaise as fast as they possibly could. They occasionally stopped long enough to whisper to each other. It was apparent that they didn't want to be heard.

At the other end of the table, Bill was chatting with Mr. Weasley about the Ministry while Mrs. Weasley was trying to convince Bill that he needed to cut his hair.

Bill questioned his father, "Do you really think that Fudge will do anything about it? Because if-"

"You didn't even put it in a ponytail for Christmas dinner! It just doesn't look professional, Bill dear."

"It's fine Mum! Anyways, I don't think Fudge'll do anything because-"

"It really looks silly, and even when it's in a ponytail, that earring shows!"

"I like my hair the way it is!"

They continued in this manner for some time. It actually became a bizarre form of entertainment; people abandoned their own conversations to listen in on the ongoing argument until everyone's attention was focused on them. The conversation finally broke up after they realized that they were the center of attention.

"What are you looking at us for?"

George said thoughtfully, "It's amazing." He received blank stares from everyone. He continued, rolling his eyes as he spoke, "It's amazing how two people can have the same conversation over and over again, yet they don't seem to ever get tired of it." Everyone grinned except for Mrs. Weasley and Bill, whose eyes shot daggers at George. George made a futile attempt to look innocent, but soon gave up and laughed along with everyone else.

As everyone's stomachs became full to the bursting point, everything became quieter. People started stifling yawns and closing their eyes for a short time, and opening them up only half way. It had been a long day, and each person sitting at the table was more than ready to go to bed.

Charlie yawned and glanced at his watch. He muttered, "What would everyone here say about turning in early tonight?"

The group nodded and mumbled indistinctly as they pushed back their chairs, stood up, and stretched. Mrs. Weasley ordered the children to put plates in the sink, and then instructed them to retreat to their rooms so that they could get ready for bed. They stumbled up the stairs, saying goodnight as people left the group to retire to their bedrooms, until only Ron and Harry were left at the bedroom at the top of the house.

When all of the dishes were in the sink, Mrs. Weasley grabbed her wand and waved it at the filthy dishes. "Scourgify!" Instantly, the sink filled with soapy bubbles and the dishes cleaned themselves. She and her husband spent several minutes carefully putting the silver back in the cabinets after the dishes had dried. Finally, all of the day's work was completed.

When they approached their bedroom, Mrs. Weasley whispered, "You go ahead. I'm going to see if everyone's in bed." With that, she continued up the staircase while Arthur entered a room to the right of the stairs.

She walked all the way to Ron and Harry's room at the top of the house, stopping at each door to listen for sounds. When she had determined that everyone was safe in bed, she started back down the stairs toward her own bedroom.

Mrs. Weasley was on the floor above her bedroom when she began hearing sounds. She traced them to Fred and George's room, and slowly opened the door. The twins were both in bed and appeared to be asleep, except for the fact that George was wiggling around his bed, muttering something.

"No, don't go into Charlie's room. Mum, don't," he groaned in his sleep. Mrs. Weasley hurried over to his bed to tuck him in because he had kicked the sheets down to the footboard.

"It's alright George, I'm here."

"Don't go in there, Charlie has-"

"Charlie's fine, he's in his room, I-"

"Charlie brought a dragon home for Christmas."

This got Mrs. Weasley's attention. She thought to herself, "It's probably nothing. I'll just look in on Charlie right quick. I'm probably being stupid." She tip-toed out of the room and shut the door as quietly as she could.

When the door shut, the twins both sat up in bed and looked at each other. They were grinning widely, and there was a particularly mischievous air about them.

"G'night George," Fred lay down again.

"G'night Fred," George said has he lay down as well. Fred and George were both smiling broadly and listening closely.

"We wish you a merry Christmas,

"We wish you a merry Christmas,

"We wish you a merry Christmas..."

"CHARLIE!!!!"

"And a happy new year!"

Ginny Riddle's Challenge:

-NO SHIPS

-Trio is still at school

-Ron trying to bake cookies

-Singing gnomes

-Twins using Extendable eyes

-Someone sneaking around on Christmas Eve

-Black-mail worthy photo of Fred

-Charlie with a dragon

-Molly tucking someone in

-A muggle wandering into the Burrow

-Someone snoring loudly

-Someone getting hit by a pillow.

-Kids running down stairs on Christmas morning

-Christmas dinner

Summary: During Harry, Ron, and Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts, they spend a Christmas at the Burrow. Massive hysteria ensues at the Weasley house, including (but not limited to) fighting with Fairy Lights, an exceptionally grumpy Mrs. Weasely, Arthur in big trouble with his wife, a VERY lost muggle, and lots of shouting. Oh, and what's that in Charlie's room? (Sorry it's so late, but think of it this way: What better way to get your mind off of school/work than by reading about the holidays?)