Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters

Note: Fred's not dead in this fic because I love the twins (plural). Also, this is my first fic so criticism or "suggestions" as my mom calls them are always welcome. Enjoy!

Harry Potter awoke to the strong smell of coffee and a faint murmuring coming from the direction of the kitchen. Gazing at the clock, he realized that he should still be sleeping for another 3 hours. However, his wife, the ever charming and sometimes frightening Ginny Potter, had other ideas for Christmas Eve, that did not include sleeping in. He walked towards the kitchen with a sense of foreboding. Ginny Potter was slumped over the kitchen table in her old Holyhead Harpies jersey. Hands cupping her head, she spoke to Harry without even glancing up. "Here's your list of chores," she said, "Everything has to be perfect for Mum or else we'll be eating at her house for Christmas for the next 10 years."

The Boy Who Lived, the destroyer of Voldemort, the Harry Potter and his best friend/brother-in-law Ron who also aided him in destroying Voldemort, were tangled up in the strings of multi-colored lights that were supposed to be adorning the house. The household was now bustling at 8:00 am with the sounds of general mayhem.

"James, don't give Alby a Canary Cream!"

"NO FRED! DO NOT SET OFF MORE FIREWORKS OR I WILL PERSONALLY TELL HAGRID WHO TIED A DUNGBOMB TO FANG!"

"Lily dearest, please don't touch those ornaments!"

The sound of the crash that followed could be heard by Hermione coming up the walk with Rose and Hugo. Taking one look at the chaos in the house and the tangled up fathers, Hermione sighed the type of sigh you sigh when you know that the mission is almost impossible.