Hermione poked her head around the living room door. 'I think they're asleep, now,' she whispered.

Ron nodded and stood. He was almost shaking with excitement. 'I love this part!'

'Ssssh!'

They crept upstairs to their bedroom, Hermione to unlock the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe and Ron to put on his Father Christmas outfit. It had been his idea to do it when Rose was about three years old, just in case she woke up and saw anything. Hermione had shaken her head and asked him if that was the real justification for doing it, or was it more like the reason Rose had been given a train set on her first birthday?

After the presents had been sorted in to different piles they went back down stairs and began putting them under the tree, ready for the morning. Once everything was done Ron ate the mince pie and drank the glass of fire whiskey that had been left out whilst Hermione ate "Rudolph's carrot", remembering to leave the top behind with some tooth marks on it. All was ready.

They stood with their arms around each other, just taking in the scene and savouring the resin rich scent of the tree. Everything was still and they enjoyed the moment. Their house, richly decorated by them all, wrapped them in its warm embrace.

They always became slightly emotional at this time, remembering the past and those who would never see a Christmas with their own children. Hermione had to wipe away a tear and Ron swallowed hard a couple of times. 'They wouldn't begrudge us,' he said, holding her tightly. 'It's why we were all there.'

He bent his head forward and kissed her. 'I love you,' she said, when they finally broke apart.

-o0o-

The Weasley household never needed an alarm clock on Christmas morning. Hugo was up well before it was light, bouncing on the bed. 'He's been! He's been! I told you I'd been a good boy all year. Can we go down now? Can we?' He began pulling the quilt off his parents and they gave in gracefully.

'Yes, I suppose so,' said his dad, who had hardly slept a wink all night himself. 'You can wake Rose up - quietly!. No presents are touched until we're all down stairs.'

Normally that wasn't a problem as Rose would be leaping around the house, her hair flying in all directions, but this year it was different. It took her fifteen minutes to come down and she was dressed, rather than still being in her nightgown. She didn't even give her parents a hug, but sat in a chair looking rather distant. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and shrugged, but maybe she was old enough now to pretend she was cool and grown-up; the influence of her older cousins perhaps.

Hugo was already tearing wrapping paper, and scattering it as far and wide around the room as he could, when Ron asked Rose if she was going to start unwrapping, as she was still sat in the chair.

She gave a great sigh and dragged herself over to her pile of presents. She picked up the first one and unwrapped it, removing each piece of spell-o-tape carefully and slowly folding back the paper. She did that with all her presents and, normally, she would then show her gift to her parents and discuss it with them.

This time she just sat and looked at it. Ron and Hermione tried to work out what was going on; it was the doll she had wanted for ages, and the first item on her letter to Father Christmas she'd left up the chimney.

'What's the matter?' Hermione asked. 'Don't you like it.' Rose nodded and sniffed. 'What, then?' Rose hurled the doll across the room.

'I HATE FATHER CHRISTMAS!' She ran from the room and they could hear her pounding up the stairs before slamming her bedroom door. Hugo sat in a stunned silence, his eyes like saucers.

'What was that about?' Hermione asked, bemused.

Ron shook his head. 'Blowed if I know. Is it like you sometimes get when…just before you…'

'She's eight, Ron, I hardly think so.' Honestly, men! Ron still thought females were some alien species on occasions. 'I'll go up to her.' She gave Hugo a hug before leaving the room, telling him everything would be fine and he could carry on with his presents.

She saw him giving his father a comradely look and heard him mutter "Women, eh? Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em'' before he ripped another parcel open. Hermione sent up a silent curse against all husbands, uncles and brothers-in-law before climbing the stairs.

-o0o-

Hermione quietly opened the door to find Rose curled up on her bed, facing the wall and sobbing.

'Rose? What's the matter?' she asked, quietly, stroking her daughter's hair away from her face.

'I hate Father Christmas. I don't want him to come here any more.'

'Why?'

Rose spun round in the bed a sat up, fixing her mother with an accusing stare. 'I hate you too! You're a tart!'

'What's that meant to mean?' Hermione asked, shocked that her daughter knew such a word.

'It's what James calls girls he doesn't like, and I don't like you!'

'Why ever not?' Hermione was starting to get just a little cross with her daughter. 'What have I done?'

'I saw you!.'

'Doing what?'

'You know what you were doing!' She flung herself back down on the bed and started crying. 'I don't want Father Christmas as my new daddy.'

Hermione rapidly put two and two together, and then did a bit of long multiplication. Several of Rose's friends had gone through divorces and remarriage recently.

'Rose, it isn't what you think.'

'Yes it is!' said Rose, sitting up and turning her tear stained face towards her mum. 'I saw you! I saw you kissing Father Christmas the way you used to kiss Daddy!'

Hermione almost had to bite her hand to stop the laugh coming out but this was not the time for making a joke. Rose was growing up and she needed to be treated with some sensitivity. This was also going to be one of those Rite of Passage moments.

'Let me explain. Well, us.' She crossed to the door and called for Ron to come upstairs, which he did.

'What's the matter, Rosie?' Ron loved his daughter dearly and hated seeing her upset.

'Ask her!.'

Ron turned to his wife with a questioning look. Hermione suppressed a giggle. 'Rose saw me…kissing another man.'

'Who?'

'Father Christmas, last night.'

'I want to live with you, Daddy, not her,' said Rose, throwing herself at her father and giving him a hug.

'Aah, I see.' He picked his daughter up and sat her on his lap on the edge of the bed. 'Rose, did you get up last night?' She nodded. 'And you peeked through the stair rails?' She nodded again. Ron took a deep breath. Give it to her straight, he decided. 'Rose, listen…that wasn't Father Christmas you saw.'

'Yes it was; he had a red suit and a beard and everything.'

'No, it was me dressed up to put your presents out. I do it every year.'

Rose looked from her father to her mother and back again. 'But Father Christmas brings our presents, down the chimney. You said so. You said…' Realisation began to dawn in her eyes. 'Have you been lying to me?' she demanded.

'Well…'

'Lying's wrong! You always tell me I mustn't do it!'

'We've not been lying…'

'So Father Christmas does bring our presents?'

'No…he doesn't exist.'

Rose stood up, glaring at her parents; she could look remarkably like her mother on occasions, right down to the hands on her hips. 'Which part of "lying" are you having problems with?'

'Rose, what's your favourite book?' Hermione asked, even though she knew the answer.

'"Charlie and the Chocolate factory",' Rose replied.

'It isn't about a real person, is it? But you read it, and you learn things from it, like the reason all the naughty children don't get to win the prize.'

'What's that got to do with Father Christmas?'

Ron gathered her on to his lap. 'It's an allegory,' said Ron, earning a stunned look from Hermione. 'You don't know Father Christmas, and he isn't related to us, but he does things and leaves presents because he's a good and kind person. It wouldn't be quite the same if we'd told you we bought them because you're expected to do things for family.

He shows us that we can give to strangers just because it's the right thing to do. He gives without expecting anything in return. That's a very altruistic thing to do.' There was silence in the room and he looked from his daughter to his wife, both of whom were open mouthed. 'What? Am I the only one who isn't allowed to know big words?'

'You've kept it well hidden,' Hermione replied, looking pleasantly surprised. 'Do you see, Rose?'

Rose nodded and gave her mum a hug. 'Yes, you can be kind for kindness sake. I'm sorry I said horrible things to you.'

Hermione hugged her back. 'I understand. We'll still have a talk later about accusing people, though.' Rose nodded. 'Please don't tell Hugo, either. Let him believe for a few years yet. Now, let's get back downstairs before your brother pretends he's forgotten how to read and opens everyone's presents.'

They walked towards the stairs, holding hands, Rose trying to assimilate her new knowledge and feeling a little more grown up for knowing.

'Daddy?'

'Yes?'

'What about the Tooth Fairy?'

'Ah…'