Christmas at Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I just don't. Nor do I know when book five comes out. I am a lonely American girl waiting desperately. Please read and review.

Christmas at Hogwarts

Ron grimaced as the noise came floating down the hallway, assaulting his ears with lilting tunes. He stopped halfway through his journey to his next class as the source of the melodic sounds came skipping along and stopped at Ron with a bound. It landed mere inches ahead of him, and startled him back a bit. Ron scowled at the girl that stood before him and he began to fume.

"Are you STILL singing stupid Christmas carols?" Ron half shouted at the giggling brunette. He glared at her and readjusted his books, which had been jostled nearly out of his arms upon impact.

"Of course!" Emmaline exclaimed, rosy cheeked with excitement. She attempted a sloppy pirouette and nearly fell into one of the cold stone walls that lined the corridors of Hogwarts. She lost her books as they spilled over the tile floor. Ron almost allowed himself to smile at her ravishing flush, but he held onto his bitterness, refusing to let himself smile. He did, however, help her gather her fallen supplies. "it's just under a week till Christmas!" She exclaimed, shoving her things into her bag.

"You've gone mad," Ron declared loudly, narrowing his eyes at her and pushing her aside. She backed into a statue, and nearly knocked it over. She lightheartedly lifted her bag again to haul it over her shoulder, chuckling as she stood. "'Scuse me, but I'm late for potions," Ron spat.

"Oh, right, and since when have you cared?" Emmaline laughed, sprinting a bit to catch up with him. She came close to dropping her stack of books yet again as she adjusted her robes. She hopped on one foot while she hurried to keep up with the redhead and steady herself at the same time.

"Since Snape decided to take fifty points from Gryffindor for each person late!" Ron snapped. Emmaline opened her mouth for a sharp retort, then softened as she identified Ron's tone as something other than anger. She smiled to herself and poked Ron's shoulder. He batted her away angrily, but she withheld any dejection.

"Oy, Ron, why don't you like Christmas?" Emmaline teased voice. She sidled up to Ron as they trudged to class. Ron sighed and shook his head as she bumped his hip. He pushed down a deep blush at her touch and forced a scowl.

"It's a stupid holiday. People just get greedy and commercialized. It's lost all meaning."

Ron came close to sputtering out tears, and Emmaline nodded knowingly. She shot him a sidelong glance and saw him blink frantically. Her heart broke upon the vision of tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes.

"That's a convincing argument, Ron. Now why not tell me the truth?" she whispered softly, restraining herself from dropping her things for the third time and wrapping him in a warm hug. She settled for laying a palm on his arm. Ron glared at the quiet brunette beside him.

"You've come from Divination, no doubt," he spat mockingly, laying a hand on the door to the damp, dank dungeon in which their Potions class was held. He turned to face the gentle girl and just nearly told her everything right then and there. Instead, he ripped his arm form her grasp.

Emmaline nodded and urged, "come now, I won't spill."

"Look, Emmaline, I understand your intent, but this is my own stupid flaw, and I refuse to bother you with it," he blurted, his face a mix of desperation, anger and guilt. Ron nearly burst into Snape's dungeon, Emmaline following him closely.

Emmaline resigned to sitting next to him with a comforting, trusting smile as he glared at her pathetically. He slowly broke down, bored to tears by Snape's lecture, until the end of class. By the time the bell rang, Ron looked as though he would break into wailing sobs.

"All right, FINE!" he hollered with a sad tone, whipping around to face her angrily as they started back to the Gryffindor tower. "I'll tell! Just quit GRINNING at me! It's driving me mad!"

"Well, all right, then. Go on," she urged as they reached the portrait. She shifted the strap of her bag patiently as they stopped. Emmaline inspected the toes of her shoes for scuff marks in the pause, melting her smile.

"Botolph," Ron nodded, addressing the Fat Lady. He slipped into the empty common room and spun around to face Emmaline. "My problem with Christmas is that I'm an ungrateful, selfish git." His short explanation tumbled out of him and was nearly followed by a harsh sob. Emmaline sat on the plush couch and struggled to withhold a tender embrace to comfort the young wizard before her.

"How so?" Emmaline asked with disbelief, choosing her words carefully to prevent such an outburst. Ron sighed and fell into an overstuffed chair, staring at the fire with a shameful expression. He slowly began to speak, not once looking up from the flames.

"I've never been happy with what my family does for Christmas. I know I should be happy we're even all together, but I can't help wanting the classic Christmas. You know what I mean: the big tree, the gaudy decorations, the gingerbread ornaments, the huge gifts. Have you any idea how dull it is to get the same maroon sweater every year? And I HATE maroon."

Ron let out a deep breath and swiped at his eyes, turning his head for the first time from the fireplace to look up at Emmaline. He blinked and realized what he had spilled, and a look of fear and instant guilt spread over his face.

"I'm sorry; I'm being greedy and selfish. My family's always been poor; I should be used to it."

Emmaline stared as he dragged himself up the stairs to his dormitory. Ron barely ever said aloud that his family was poor, and he rarely showed lack of pride in his family's status. His depression and disappointment was unusual for his typically upbeat and cheerful self.

"He's such a romantic soul," Emmaline murmured to herself as the dormitory door clicked shut. A warm feeling spread through her and she had a great urge to hug Ron silly. "Oh, but the poor boy; this must really bother him." She felt near tears as she said it, and resolved to give him the huge Christmas he deserved.

Emmaline dashed off to the school owlery as her first order of business. An idea was forming rapidly in her mind and she searched rows and rows of owls before finding the very one she sought.

"Oy, Pigwidgeon!" she whispered excitedly at a feeble looking bird. "Think you're up for a short fly?" Pigwidgeon nipped her finger and cooed affectionately as an affirmative answer. Emmaline frantically scribbled on a piece of parchment as Pigwidgeon hopped to and fro, anxious to leave; he could tell it was getting late.

Dear Mrs. Weasley,

I hope I'm not too late, but I've a request for Ron's gift this year that I think he might be too bashful to bring up himself. I think he's tiring of maroon. He loves the sweater, believe me, but he's so many maroon ones. Perhaps you could conjure a nice navy one, please? I saw him in something navy recently and he looked absolutely spanking! I understand if you've run short on time, but I do hope you consider. Thanks ever so much. And Happy Christmas!

~Emmaline

"All right, off you go, Pig. Right to Mrs. Weasley. Good luck!" Emmaline called as the owl flew off. She turned and hurried up to the library as her next task, knowing she would find Hermione there. Emmaline held her breath as she passed Filch's office, but found it empty and the corridor cat-free. She sighed with relief and dashed into the library, counting her blessings that she was able to sneak about so late at night without being found by the vile Mrs. Norris.

"Hermione?" she called, peeking around the shelves. "Hermione, I need a favor."

Hermione's head shot up and she smiled. Her book clapped shut and she nodded, clearly seeing that this was no ordinary homework question, but willing to help regardless.

"What can I do for you?" she chirped. Emmaline explained her plan for Ron's first incredible Christmas and told Hermione what she needed from her. "Right," Hermione sighed. "Well, you'll need to learn several charms in the next few days. Keeping snow fresh, keeping lights lit, keeping the tree from catching fire, conjuring the tree in the first place, conjuring garlands and candles, this is all a lot of hard work," she warned. "Are you up to it?"

Emmaline nodded profusely and Hermione stood to rifle through the shelves.

"Ah, here we are!" she exclaimed, pulling a worn book from a high shelf and blowing dust off of it. The title, Magical Christmas by Nick E. Claws, a pen name of sorts, emerged from under the debris. The thick volume was checked out moments later and Hermione hid herself and Emmaline in a deserted corner of the library.

"Right, there you go," she nodded a few hours later as Emmaline conjured yet another gingerbread man. "Good, we've done a great deal; you learn quickly. Same time tomorrow, and we'll work on a charm to make the lights stay lit all night. After that, you'll just need to conjure the tree; that could be difficult."

"Don't forget the garlands and candles," Emmaline reminded nervously.

"Oh, that's easy," Hermione piped. "All you've got to do is replace cocino here with decorum." She pointed to the spell as it was typed in the text.

She flicked her wand, and a stream of greenery flowed from the tip, studded with candlesticks here and there. Emmaline grinned at the results.

"And to light the candles, you can simply use lumos."

Flames licked at the wax pillars at the bidding of her words.

"Oy, thank you so much, Hermione! You've been a great help."

"Not a problem! Good luck, Emmaline. I'm sure Ron will be thrilled with the results, no matter how it comes out. If I may confess, I think he fancies you. He'll be happy with whatever you do for him."

Emmaline chuckled and shook her head at the prospect. She had seen too much evidence otherwise to believe Hermione's insistence.

"He's a great friend, but I really think that's all," she protested. Hermione shrugged and pointed to her watch.

"My goodness, it's nearly nine-thirty! We should get to bed!"

The girls rushed to the common room, slinking around corners and stopping frequently. As soon as Emmaline passed the owlery, a sharp hoot emerged. She urged Hermione on after thanking her once more.

"Pigwidgeon! My goodness, you move fast!" Emmaline suddenly realized it had been almost four hours since she had sent him off. "You're a faithful little bird, you are!" she praised. Pigwidgeon cooed with humility and relinquished the parchment tied to his leg.

Dear Emmaline,

My goodness! If Ron didn't want maroon, he should have just said so! I'll get started on a navy one straight away. Thank you ever so, love. Tell Ron I love him and Happy Christmas. Love to you as well, dearie.

~Mrs. Weasley

Emmaline smiled. One night and she was more than halfway through her plan. She still had three days to go, however. And soon, she would get the main attraction. But now she needed to sleep. It would be difficult; however, the conjure charms were still floating through her head. Emmaline yawned and slipped through the hallways, gasping at every sound, thinking it was Filch coming to catch her out of bed.

"EMMALINE, GET UP!"

Harry's loud voice broke through the girls' dormitory door on the morning of Christmas Eve and woke Emmaline with a bolt.

"CRIKEY, HARRY! WHAT IS IT?!" she hollered, irritated and only half awake.

"HERMIONE TELLS ME YOU'VE ERRANDS TO RUN! MCGONAGALL IS MORE LIKELY TO LET TWO STUDENTS OFF THE GROUNDS THAN JUST ONE!"

"GIVE ME TEN MINUTES!" Emmaline groaned.

Emmaline slowly got dressed and emerged from her room to squint down at her friendly alarm. Harry waved and chuckled at her lethargic crawl down the stairs. She paused halfway down of the staircase and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"Oy, Harry, what are my chances of getting breakfast before we go? I need caffeine of some sort."

Harry smiled at her as she blinked her bleary, sleep-ridden eyes at him. He waved her down and reached his hand out to beckon her over.

"Tell you what, my treat on the way, eh? Where are you off to?"

Emmaline peered around sneakily before she would answer, suddenly much more awake. She crept down the stairs and glided across the room, taking Harry's hand as he pulled her into a good morning hug.

"Ron's not here? Good," she continued as Harry shook his head. "I'm off to Gringott's. I need to take some money out to top off Ron's Christmas surprise. Is he any good at Quidditch?"

Harry nodded, eager to brag proudly about his best friend. "Oh, he's quite good; he just can't make the team due to his defective broom." Harry's face fell a bit at this setback.

"Let's see if we can't help him a bit, eh?" Emmaline chuckled, lightly punching his shoulder.

"Right good, then," Harry grinned. He pulled Emmaline's cloak off a hook and helped her swing it on, tying it carefully for her, to her protests. "Let's be off. What vault? Have you your key?"

Emmaline nodded and answered, "vault two-five-eight."

Harry led Emmaline down the hall and greeted Professor Snape, who looked exceedingly out of Christmas spirit. He was draped from head to toe in his typical black, with strands of tinsel fluttering about his long hair. Headmaster Dumbledore followed close behind, chuckling and further decorating Snape with green garlands and colored lights. Snape sighed and rolled his eyes as Dumbledore merely laughed.

"Come now, Severus, cheer up!" He poked Snape with his long wand and a Poinsettia flower blossomed upon contact.

"Yes," Snape replied dryly, stepping aside. "'Tis the season." Dumbledore followed his shifty gait. As Snape finished speaking, a bright red bulb that had landed on his nose shone brilliantly.

"Oh!" Dumbledore laughed. "Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer!" he sang. Snape looked as though he wanted to die right there on the spot. He fumed and looked down at Harry and Emmaline. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Emmaline, but his spiteful reprimands faded upon seeing Harry.

"I don't care where you're bloody off to as long as this incident does not leave the four of us," he muttered finally.

"Yessir, thank you," they answered, nodding in unison and fidgeting, anxious to get out of the situation.

"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!" Dumbledore called after them, nudging Snape, who sighed dramatically and slumped in his posture.

"Happy Christmas," he muttered reluctantly, scooting through the corridors.

Emmaline and Harry burst into fits of laughter as they rounded a corner and decided they'd better hurry along in case Snape had any second thoughts. Harry led the way through a few secret tunnels to turn up at a secluded doorway that opened into a field, giving them a clear view of Hagrid's cozy hut.

"Hagrid!" Harry called. "OY, HAGRID!" he hollered, still laughing a bit.

"Harry? Oy, Harry, what're yeh doing out here? I thought yer friends 'n' yeh'd be off on yer holiday. Ah, don't matter. Can I do summat for yeh?"

"Hullo, Hagrid," Emmaline grinned. Hagrid jumped and sighed.

"Oy, Emmaline, hullo! What are yeh up ter?" Hagrid sat his immense form onto one of his tiny chairs, and Harry and Emmaline were surprised that the chair didn't collapse.

"Probably some enchantment," Harry muttered as Emmaline's eyebrows lifted with surprise. Emmaline nodded and took the seat Hagrid offered. Harry stood politely behind her, carefully resting his hands on the back of the chair.

"We need to use your floo powder, Hagrid, if we could," Emmaline explained. Hagrid offered her some treacle fudge, which she politely declined at the gentle pressure on her shoulder, courtesy of one Harry Potter.

"Oy, well, yeh're welcome ter whatever I've left, but I don't think it much. Where're yeh off ter?" He cheerily jumped from the table and peered inside his little bowl on the mantle, nodding at the amount he found within.

"I've to get to Gringott's," Emmaline smiled, continuing to explain her plan as she had so many times in the past few days.

"Ah, what a great idea! Yer a real considerate child, yeh're. He's gonna be mighty happy with that, he will. Well, you two get goin'," he nodded, "I've ter be off anyway; good luck ter yeh!"

And with that, Hagrid strode out, jauntily chuckling as he went.

"We'd better be off," Harry noted, crossing the room to the fireplace. "After you," he smiled, clearing Emmaline's way. She tossed a bit of the powder into the flames and shouted, "Leaky Cauldron!" She was pulled through the fire and tumbled out on the other end, landing on her hands and knees. She stood and dusted herself off, jumping a bit when Harry stumbled in behind her, scuffing his feet violently as he tried to stabilize himself. He stood straight and grinned sheepishly. He quickly composed himself and played off it.

"Here we are," he bowed dramatically, to Emmaline's laughter. "And off to Gringott's we go." Harry led her out to the back hall and pulled his wand out. He tapped three bricks and the wall opened, folding back on itself. The doorway arch spread and Harry took Emmaline's hand lightly, gently leading her through the wall and out into a blustery snowfall. She pulled her cloak around her tightly and shivered. Harry looked back and smiled, squeezing her hand and tugging her along. They slipped into Gringott's just before a gust of cold, powdery snow and slowly approached the head goblin with a bit of trepidation.

"Excuse me, please. I would like to make a withdrawal," Emmaline coughed.

"Name," the short goblin spat. It hopped off its high chair and came to barely Emmaline's knee. It was slightly green with very long ears and very little hair.

"Emmaline Penchant."

"This way, please." The goblin spoke shortly and crisply, his voice as his stature. The short fellow led them to a car that looked much like that of a roller coaster. Emmaline and Harry stepped in, and he whispered, "hold on tight!" She realized why in a moment. They sped through dark tunnels at breakneck speed, twisting and turning until they came to a sudden stop, leaving Emmaline a bit nauseous. Harry hopped out first, helping her out. He lay a hand on her back and soothed her as she climbed out of the car.

"Key, please."

They handed over the key at the goblin's sharp request.

"Step aside, please."

They did so.

"Here you are, miss. Let me know when you've finished."

"Won't be a minute!" Emmaline chirped. She stuck her hand in and counted a few bags of the large gold coins and ducked back out, happy to be out of the eerie hole that was the vault. She shuddered from the cold, and Harry squeezed her hand.

"It can be a bit perturbing the first time in, eh?" he chuckled.

"Thank you, sir!" she nodded as the goblin locked up and handed her her key. Harry took Emmaline's hand to guide her into the car, and she stepped in carefully. They zipped back to the main lobby and Harry helped Emmaline hold balance as they left.

"Right; that all?"

Emmaline shook her head gingerly and pulled her cowl over her hair, which was now disheveled from their journey through the bank's caverns.

"Now I truly need your help. First, what's the best broom you can get to play Quidditch with? Is it still the Firebolt?" Harry nodded eagerly, eyes flashing with pride at the thought of his diamond polished ash handle and aerodynamic broomtail. Emmaline smiled at his boyish joy and continued. "Right; then I need to ask you now to lead me to a place where I could purchase one."

Harry took her hand and carefully led her down the streets. They wove through mobs of children and fought their way through a particular dense knot in front of the Quidditch sport supply store.

"Excuse me, sir? How much are the Firebolts going for this year?" Emmaline called to the salesman over the crowd. The man seemed happy to see someone over the age of eight, and quickly approached them, beaming exhaustedly. The crowds turned at the request, dumbfounded at the implication of purchase.

"Happy Christmas, miss, sir." The man nodded at Emmaline and Harry respectively, who each nodded in return. "This late in the season, I'm afraid they've gone up in price. They're going for six hundred Galleons." The tired man sighed and almost cringed at the expected reactions.

"Understandable," Emmaline nodded, pulling out a bag or two from under her cloak. Harry watched and suddenly realized they were full of Galleons. "This should teach me to wait so long to do my shopping!" Emmaline sifted through the coins and counted out a bit more than the six hundred of which she was in need. Harry gaped at the amount of wizard's money Emmaline handled. His eyes followed the bags as Emmaline gesticulated in animated conversation with the polite shopkeeper. The man laughed and nodded toward the back wall.

"I've just got to get one and box it. I expect you'll want to look it over?" he nodded.

"If it's not too much trouble," Emmaline smiled, tucking her bags away.

"Of course not, miss," he chuckled. "I'll just be a moment." He left Emmaline with Harry, who stood, mouth agape, at such a purchase.

"And what's with you, love? Catching flies for Neville's toad? Close your mouth, dearie," she chuckled, lifting his jaw with one finger. Harry shook his head and found speech.

"You're actually going to buy one?"

"That is typically what the exchange of money for goods is known as, Harry," Emmaline drawled sarcastically, quietly taking note of a game robe in the far corner of the store that looked as though it would fit Harry; fatefully, it bore the Gryffindor colors.

"Wow, Ron's lucky," he marveled. Emmaline rolled her eyes and poked Harry.

"You've got one all your own," she reminded him. She was greeted with an embarrassed flush as though Harry had only just remembered. "I'm just getting Ron something special. I'm getting him something new for once," she murmured almost wistfully.

Just then, the man returned, several children flanking him to catch a glimpse of the woman who could afford such a broom. Their eyes lit with anticipation as they waited to see if this young lady would actually buy the treasure.

"What do you think, Harry? Does it look all right?" Emmaline held the broom out for him to look over as well, in search of an 'expert' opinion

"Looks great," he murmured, still shocked at the nature of their visit. He watched with wonder as Emmaline handled the broom with as much ease as though she already owned it. She would have slung it over her shoulder had she already paid for it.

"All right, then! Here you are, sir, six hundred Galleons and an extra fifteen for being so full of Christmas spirit." Emmaline nodded to the robe she had earlier admired and whispered, "could I add that to my bill, please? A gift for my friend here." The shopkeeper nodded and added one to her bundle, wrapping it tightly. "Happy Christmas to you!" she wished, heading out the door, Harry on one side, the Firebolt and robe on the other.

"I can't believe you've bought it," Harry muttered through their whole walk all the way down Diagon Alley, through a pen and ink supply store, where Emmaline picked up a handsome quill set with seven shades of ink for Hermione, through the Leaky Cauldron and up and down the twisting and tuning secret passageways throughout Hogwarts as they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, where Emmaline hid the Firebolt under a couch and draped it with Harry's invisibility cloak for fear it might be discovered.

"Believe it, because it's happened."

And with a nod to him and a great hug for thanks, Emmaline dashed off to meet Hermione in the library to complete here rigorous education.

"You've almost got it, but it's coNIferous not coniFERous."

"Coniferous giganticum!"

A large pine tree dropped in the center of the room, fitted in a stand and covered in fresh snow, which Emmaline quickly enchanted to keep from melting. Hermione frantically cloaked the tree with a complex spell to keep it hidden and turned to Emmaline.

"Beautiful! Ron's going to be so happy tomorrow morning!" Hermione jumped and clapped. "Let's get to work!"

The two girls dashed off to the common room to decorate, not worried about being caught, as it was only eight o'clock and not nearly late enough to be in trouble. They met Harry sitting up, staring at the fire.

"Hullo," he nodded soberly. "May I help? I've never decorated on Christmas Eve before."

Emmaline nodded placidly, and Harry's face lifted as he grabbed his wand, ready to begin a tradition where there had been none. The girls giggled at his excitement, barely remembering that Harry's family would have allowed him few pleasures as this. He sailed about the room, tapping this and that with his wand, making ornaments and angels and stars and candles appear haphazardly on mantles, shelves and bookcases. Hermione and Emmaline soon joined in, and among the three of them were whispered shouts of charms and spells of the small knickknacks that were quickly placed. Then finally, Emmaline murmured, "accio coniferous giganticum!"

The tree they had left in the back hall of the library fell into place with a faint pop, and garlands and light swirled around it with Harry's excited help. The wrapped Firebolt settled neatly under the branches, along with the other gifts that had been left about the room. The three Gryffindors fell onto a nearby couch.

"Oy, I'd nearly forgotten your gifts," Emmaline yawned. "Accio regalos." She summoned the presents with a wave of her wand, and they floated over to her and hovered above each child's lap before dropping and being hesitantly torn open.

"I feel so wrong, opening this before Christmas-oh, Emmaline, it's gorgeous!" Hermione gasped at the sight of her brand new quill and ink set. "Seven shades of ink, Harry!" she bragged, shoving it under his nose. "SEVEN!"

"Blimey, I've a new Quidditch robe for practice!" he grinned, ignoring Hermione's shouts of glee, as he had been there when her gift had been bought. Of course, he had been present for the purchase of his gift as well, but he was unaware of this fact. "Thanks, Emmaline! Now I don't have to dirty my good one before a game!"

"What's all the excitement?"

The three spun towards the groggy voice coming from the top of the stairs. They glanced at each other nervously and then at their watches, which each read twelve oh six AM, twenty fifth December.

"Well, it is Christmas," Hermione shrugged, as Ron listened with confusion. Emmaline stood and was soon joined by Harry and Hermione reluctantly afterward.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Emmaline smiled shyly as Ron trudged down the stairs. His tired, weary eyes lit up like the very candles on the tree when he saw it. He was greeted by the huge tree, the gaudy decorations, the gingerbread ornaments, and, "here, Ron," the huge gift.

"Blimey, a Firebolt," he breathed after tearing the paper away in one swift rip. "Wicked." He stared for a moment, then finally reacted. "Emmaline," he looked up with teary eyes, "I can't accept this-this was too much-all this was way too much." Ron backed up, waving his hands in protest, the Firebolt still clutched in one palm.

"Ron," Emmaline addressed, laying a hand on his arm. "Happy Christmas." She smiled at him as he lay the broom across a chair and stepped up to her. He hugged her tight and nearly cried. His voice was clouded by restrained tears and came out huskily, giving an aura of sleepy fear to him, as though he had woken from a nightmare moments ago.

"Thank you so much, Emmaline. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Oh, I think I do. Here, thank Hermione and Harry; they're asleep on their feet and I couldn't have pulled this off without them." She waved at them as they began up the stairs.

"Thanks, you two," Ron nodded. "You've been incredible friends." His arms remained around Emmaline as they dragged themselves to bed, each whispering "Happy Christmas" on their way.

"Ron, here." Emmaline stepped off and reached under the tree for the telltale Weasley wrapped token. "This is from your Mum. She says Happy Christmas and sends her love." She offered the lopsided box to Ron as he made his way to the couch, yawning and stumbling over his own discarded papers. Ron sat in Harry's place and accepted the lumpy package that Emmaline handed him.

"Oy, I could even take another buggery maroon sweater!" he chuckled as he tore at the papers. Ron stared at the navy shirt he held a moment later as though he'd never seen such a thing before. He gaped a moment and suddenly remembered his manners as he broke into a wide grin. "Emmaline, you work miracles." She laughed at his amazement and reached over to pat his arm.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," she whispered before standing and heading to bed. Ron jumped up and stopped her by throwing an arm out in protest. He fell to his knees and reached under the enchanted evergreen.

"Oy, wait!" Ron called from under the tree. "Here, I've something for you!"

"Oh, Ron, really. You didn't have to." She laughed upon seeing Ron half under the tree, his bottom sticking up in the air as he searched for his tiny gift. He swayed from side to side as he searched, and Emmaline heard a familiar crunch as his fist closed around an envelope.

"Oops. Oh, well. It wasn't much anyway, so I'm sure I've not done much damage."

Emmaline opened the small envelope and pulled out a small piece of parchment, covered in untidy scrawling handwriting. She smiled at Ron's attempts at penmanship and read carefully.

Emmaline~

I know I've been a bit of a pain, and I'm sorry. I want to thank you for being so patient with me. You've been an amazing friend and I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't afford a more extravagant gift, but I promise you I will be the most faithful friend you can have.

Happy Christmas,

Ron

Emmaline looked up, her eyes clouded with happy tears. All that Hermione had proclaimed about Ron's feelings were true. She could hardly believe it, even after seeing it herself, after holding the declaration in her very hand.

"Thank you, Ron. It was perfect."

Ron embraced her sweetly and looked up. He quickly flicked his wand at the air above Emmaline's head and a sprig of mistletoe apparated a few inches up. It hovered, and Ron grinned at the brunette in his arms. Emmaline laughed at the action and sniffled quietly.

"Happy Christmas," Ron whispered and bowed his head to softly press his lips to hers. "I love you. Thank you so much."

Emmaline smiled calmly and pulled away, yawning. She turned to the stairs and smiled over her shoulder.

"I love you, too. Oy, here's a card from Harry," Emmaline pointed out as she started up the steps, reluctantly leaving her redheaded love. Ron opened it calmly and suddenly burst into laughter at the picture on the front.

"Oy, wicked! Snape-IN TINSEL!"