Christmas Gifts

Christmas Gifts

No one heard the knock at the front door of the Burrow. Laughter and talk filled the small kitchen, dishes clattered, and Bill and Fleur's infant daughter wailed over the din. Apparently, little Victoire didn't appreciate the noisy chaos of a typical Weasley Christmas Eve.

Outside on the doorstep, Charlie Weasley and his guest stood knee-deep in snow. As Charlie raised his hand to knock again, Luna Lovegood looked at him curiously.

"This is your house, isn't it?" she asked.

"Of course it is, I ought to know." What kind of question was that?

And then he realized. "Oh, yeah--c'mon." With a sheepish grin, Charlie took Luna's hand, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. With a finger to his lips, Charlie set his bag down very quietly, and Luna did the same. Then they removed their snow-sovered boots.

A rectangle of light framed three figures sitting at the kitchen table: Fleur and Bill, their long hair falling over their faces as they bent their heads over the crying baby, who was sitting in Fleur's lap. The expression on his brother's face--a blend of affection and concern--stopped Charlie dead in his tracks. He'd never seen any of his siblings look like that.

I've been gone too long, Charlie thought.

Molly Weasley stood at the stove, serving up huge steaming bowls and platters of food, which she relayed to Ginny and Hermione. Odd, Molly thought, how the two girls had suddenly developed such an interest in cooking spells. She appreciated the help, she really did, but sometimes they dogged her footsteps so, they risked burns or spell damage.

When Molly turned to hand a bowl of sprouts to Ginny, she caught sight of the two people standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Charlie," she cried, and rushed over to him, forgetting she still had the sprouts. As other Weasleys crowding up behind her to greet the newcomers, she thrust the bowl into the closest pair of hands (they turned out to be Arthur Weasley's) and threw her arms around the son who never seemed to make it home for Christmas, squeezing all the air out of his lungs.

Seeing that his wife wasn't going to release Charlie anytime soon, Arthur handed off the sprouts to Ron, who'd come up behind him, and gathered Luna into a gentler hug.

"How are you?" he said, beaming and holding her at arm's length. "You look very-- festive."

In fact, Luna seemed to have dressed like a Christmas tree for the occasion in a bright green robe festooned with garlands of holly and strands of something unidentifiable. More holly crowned her straggly dark-blonde hair, and her earrings sported clusters of brown, scaly objects--hemlock cones, Arthur guessed.

A temporary hush fell over the kitchen, where everyone who was still seated gaped at the new arrivals. Even little Victoire quieted down. Molly had stopped shrieking and was now simply staring at her second-oldest son and the girl he'd brought with him. For once, she was speechless.

Arthur broke the silence by saying to Luna, "It's good to see you. What have you been doing lately?"

"Oh--finding things," she replied vaguely.

"Crumplehorned Snorkacks?" Hermione whispered to Harry, who frowned. He did not share his friend's rather dismissive attitude toward Luna.

The latter had apparently overheard, as she said, "No. I think my father must have been wrong about those, after all." Her face fell when she mentioned Xenophilius Lovegood, who was still in Azkaban for betraying Harry to the Death Eaters, but she brightened as she added, "I did find Charlie, though."

"So I see." Arthur led Luna to the table, followed by Charlie, Molly, and the rest of the Weasleys.

"Budge up, you lot," Arthur said, as everyone scrambled for a seat. "We need room for two more."

Fleur made a face--she thought the kitchen was far too crowded and noisy as it was--but Harry moved closer to Hermione and patted the seat next to him.

"Sit here, okay?" he said. "We have some serious catching up to do." He had not seen Luna since the night Voldemort was defeated, a year and a half ago.

Christmas without Fred was still difficult, though not so difficult as last year, and Harry was glad for the distraction of Charlie's and Luna's unexpected arrival.

Percy, who'd ended up with the sprouts, put the bowl on the table and sat down between Bill and George.

"I propose a toast," said Arthur, raising his wine goblet. "To family and friends--the more the merrier." Goblets clinked as a chorus of voices repeated, "To family and friends."

"Now," Arthur commanded, "dig in!" And they did.

ooOoo

As they followed the crowd out of the kitchen, Ron grabbed Charlie's arm and pulled him aside.

"What's with you and Luna?" he demanded, not loudly enough to be heard over the rising babel of voices.

Charlie grinned. "Long story, mate. To keep it short--she just sort of showed up at the Center one night, and she's been helping Cozma and me with the dragons--and things . . ."

He trailed off. He could have told Ron about Luna's eye for the nuances of dragon behavior, the improvements she'd made in the dragon enclosure and their living quarters, or the uncomplaining way she'd accepted the hardships of life in the Romanians mountains. He could mention their quiet talks by the fire when the day's work was done and the dragons were sleeping in their enchanted pen. But he didn't feel like sharing any of that with his wisecracking brother.

"I sort of get the just-showing-up part--that's Luna all over," said Ron, "but that doesn't explain what she's doing here with you. I mean, I like Luna and all, but it was quite a surprise."

It was Charlie's turn to be surprised. Didn't Ron know anything about his old schoolmate and fellow D.A. member?

"Where else would she go? Her father's still in prison; her mum's dead; she's an only child with no relatives she's ever mentioned to me--"

Ron shrugged. "So, you felt sorry for her. I get it. Anyway, it's great you could tear yourself away from those ugly brutes of yours for a few days."

Before Charlie could defend either Luna or his beloved Romanian Longhorns, he and Ron were swept into the little sitting room by the stragglers who'd been cleaning up the remains of the feast.

The room was so stuffed with people that the Christmas tree with its pile of packages underneath was almost completely hidden. It was Mrs. Weasley's turn to grab Charlie's arm.

"You should have told me you were bringing Luna," she hissed into his ear. "There's plenty of room, of course, but we've already sent your gifts to Romania, of course, but we don't have a thing for Luna."

Charlie looked over to where Luna sat beside Harry. Somehow, she'd charmed Fleur into letting her hold Victoire, who was playing with Luna's long hair, causing it to tangle worse than ever. Luna, he noticed, was no longer wearing her prickly holly adornments, but she'd Transfigured the top button of her robe into a miniature animated dragon. Its prancing, snorting, and tail-waving were sending little Victoire into gales of delighted laughter.

Charlie grinned. "Trust me, Mum, Luna won't mind. Anyway, I have something for her."

Mrs. Weasley gave Charlie a measuring glance, but let the subject drop.

"All right, everybody, time for presents!" she called over the general hubbub. "Arthur, would you do the honors?"

Arthur Weasley bent down under the tree and started picking up packages. "I could use an elf," he said. He noticed Hermione's glare and hastened to add, "Not a house-elf, of course. I was kidding, Hermione"

Everyone laughed, even Hermione.

Ginny said, "I'll be your elf, Dad," and started to hand around the gifts. Soon, the cacophony rose to a new level, as though someone had turned up the volume on the Wizard Wireless. (In fact, Molly Weasley had tuned their set to a station playing Christmas music, but it was completely drowned out.)

Soon, the little sitting room was awash in ribbon and crumpled paper. In the crush, Charlie hadn't been able to get anywhere near Luna, but he saw that she'd handed the baby back to Fleur and was digging into the pockets of her robes. She rose and began to distribute small parcels wrapped in what looked to Charlie like silver foil to all the women in the room.

The noise level dropped as they began to unwrap these unexpected presents, and the room got even quieter when they saw the contents. Hermione held up a pair of earrings that looked just like Luna's.

"Thanks, Luna," she said politely. "These are really--different."

Luna beamed. "I'm glad you like them; I made them myself."

No one was surprised to hear that.

"I thought they'd be Christmas-y, but they might be a little scratchy," she added.

All the women murmured thanks except for Fleur, whose face wore an expression of utmost disdain. Charlie had to stifle a grin, imagining Fleur with bunches of hemlock cones dangling from her ears.

Luna was now handing around small gold-wrapped packets to the men. Their brief trip to the little wizarding village where Cozma lived explained the wrappings, but it did not explain what Charlie found inside his little package. Judging from their expressions, the other men were equally mystified.

Nestled in the gold foil was a cube of some solid, jelly-like substance in an unappealing shade of greenish-brown. It was dusted with something that looked like sugar, so it must be a confection, Charlie reasoned, but . . .

Bravely, he bit in, wondering if Luna had bought the candy at the confectioner's shop in the village.

He nearly broke a tooth on it. He couldn't detect any flavor, pleasant or otherwise, but he could make no more headway with it than he could have with a chunk of dragon hide.

Luna watched with a smile as he tried valiantly to sample her gift. She seemed not to notice the looks on the other men's faces. The few who'd dared to sample the candy looked variously puzzled or dismayed.

Luna took advantage of the temporary quiet to explain.

"It's Mungle-bark candy," she told the bewildered recipients. "It's supposed to be good for the digestion. I don't know about that, but it does seem to have a calming effect."

There were polite, if unenthusiastic thank-you's from around the room, and the conversation resumed its normal, deafening level.

"And it's great exercise for the jaw muscles," Ron murmured. Like Charlie, he'd tried to tackle the rubbery candy.

"Well, you have to give her credit," Charlie shot back. "It's not like she had ages to shop."

He left Ron standing by the doorway with his mouth half open and made his way over to Luna., who smiled happily up at him from her seat on the sofa. By now, some of the other Weasleys had gone into the kitchen to play Exploding Snaps, so he sat down beside Luna.

"Did you get this in the village?" he asked her.

"Oh, no" she said. "I didn't have any money. I recognized the Mungle trees, so I just stripped off some of the bark."

She noted Charlie's expression. "Don't worry, Charlie, it doesn't hurt the trees at all. They would have squealed if it had."

"So you used the bark--" Charlie prompted.

"Yes, you have to boil it for hours--but the process isn't very interesting; it just takes a long time getting it to the right consistency.s Do you like it?"

Evading the question, Charlie asked Luna when she'd made the candy, as he hadn't seen her do it.

"Oh, good," she said. "I wanted to keep it a secret, so I snuck out while you were sleeping. I thought of making the wrappings out of bark, too, but it was easier just to Charm some parchment. I hope you don't mind."

Charlie thought of Luna standing out in the snow, in the middle of the night, stirring a cauldron for hours, because she had no money to buy gifts for his whole family. And then worrying about taking a couple of sheets of parchment. For a moment, he couldn't trust his voice.

"I'm fine with that, as long as it didn't have statistics on it," Charlie said lightly, to cover his emotion.

"Oh, no, Charlie, I'm sure it was all blank--"

"I was kidding," Charlie assured her.

He put his arm around her thin shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"I'm really impressed with you spellwork, though." He couldn't honeestly say he was impressed with the candy.

Before long, Bill and Fleur gathered up the baby's things and said goodnight. Fleur was not wearing her earrings, but Charlie was pleased to see that Ginny, Hermione, and his mother were.

Molly and Arthur were at the door, saying goodbye to Bill and Fleur; everyone else had migrated to the kitchen. Charlie grabbed Luna's hand.

"Let's go upstairs for a minute," he said. "I want to give you your present."

Luna looked surprised but pleased.

"Okay," she said, and they made their way up the rickety staircase to the room Charlie used to share with Bill. There was only one chair, and it wouldn't do for Charlie's purposes, as its back was too high.

"Better sit on the bed," Charlie said, and Luna obeyed. "Now, turn around, and close your eyes."

Luna's smile made her look about ten years old. She turned around and waited. Charlie was pleased to see that her long hair was full of snarls, some of them wind-induced, the rest the work of Victoire's busy fingers.

Charlie withdrew something from his pocket and, taking a deep breath, he moved his left hand to the nape of Luna's neck, lifting her hair from beneath. She did not jump when he touched her, and her muscles felt completely relaxed.

In his right hand, Charlie held a large comb made of Graphorn horn with elaborate mother-of-pearl inlays depicting stars and the moon. Its teeth were widely spaced, and as Charlie began to draw the comb gently through Luna's hair, he noted with satisfaction that it slid as easily through the tangles as it would have through water. With its sturdy, wide-spaced teeth, the comb might have worked quite well on its own, but Charlie, taking no chances, had cast Never-pull and Disentangling charms on it.

Even in the low light of Charlie's room, he could distinguish the varicolored strands of Luna's long hair. Some might call it "dirty blonde," but to Charlie it was a rich mixture of strands: cream, light honey and dark, several shades of caramel and cocoa. It had first caught his eye on a clear winter day, when the sun revealed its many colors in the same way it did the many hues of the dragons' scales.

To the unschooled--that is, people who sensibly kept their distance from the dangerous magical beasts--the scales of an Albanian Longhorn appeared dull black. Up close, in the sunlight, one could make out the beautiful glints of blue and green, red and silver and gold.

Luna sat completely still as Charlie drew the comb repeatedly through her hair. Its texture was soft and silky, and even after the enchanted comb had transformed the tangled mass into smooth, shining waves, Charlie let it fall over his hand, and very cautiously, he bent down to inhale its scent. Luna's hair smelled fresh and woodsy, and the fragrance transported Charlie instantly back to his Albanian forests.

Luna still hadn't moved or spoken.

"You can turn around now," said Charlie finally. "I want to show you your present."

When Luna turned to face him, and he showed her the comb, Charlie was startled to see something glistening in her moonlike eyes. He was instantly crestfallen.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked anxiously. "The comb's supposed to be magic, so it shouldn't have pulled--" He held out the comb to show Luna.

She smiled, though one tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Charlie gently brushed it away.

"It's just that--my mother used to comb my hair."

Luna didn't say, "And I loved it, and I miss her," but she didn't have to. Charlie pulled her into a warm hug. Again, he inhaled the fresh, piney scent of her hair.

When he released her, she was smiling. "The comb is beautiful, Charlie. Thank you."

She waited a moment, then, with a slightly puzzled expression, said, "Are you going to give it to me?"

Charlie started to hand Luna the comb, then drew back.

"Yes," he said, "under one condition."

"What's that?"

"You let me comb your hair for you sometimes."

Luna nodded, looking pleased, then said, "I have something for you, too."

"You didn't have to--" Charlie started to say, but she stopped him.

"Don't worry, it didn't cost me anything. I found it." And she took something else out of her pocket.

"Mistletoe," she said, holding it over Charlie's head. Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

He was somewhere he didn't recognize, somewhere far from the Burrow, somewhere much, much warmer than Albania. In the tropics, maybe, under a waterfall, letting silken streams pour over him . . . He was naked, and he was not alone . . .

When Charlie returned to his senses, he was incapable of doing anything but look at Luna with what he suspected must be a rather goofy smile. Luna was smiling back.

"I hope you liked your present, Charlie," she said.

"I did. Believe me, I did," he said. After a moment of friendly silence, he sighed.

"I suppose we'd better go down, before Mum comes looking for us."

He took Luna's hand, and they descended once more into the happy chaos of a Weasley Christmas.

The End