The snow fell heavily outside the window as Harry Potter awoke from a heavy sleep. The powdery white resting on the windowsill seemed to almost glow, and he smiled as he realized that it was, in fact, Christmas morning. He already knew what to expect from Molly: a knitted sweater with the recognizable, large H on the front, but as far as his other gifts were concerned, Harry was utterly clueless.
As always when here, Harry shared a room with Ron. When the dark-haired boy peaked carefully from beneath the covers, he saw the redhead sound asleep in his bed. Harry asked himself whether he should wake him up, or simply allow his best friend to continue sleeping. He decided on the latter, carefully placed his glasses on his nose and slowly and silently got dressed.
As he stepped outside the room, Harry carefully shut the door, cautious not to make a single noise. Ron had had a busy year, and this Christmas break, he had surely deserved some extra sleep.
The staircase leading to the first floor of the Burrow creaked slightly beneath his feet, which were covered in a thick pair of socks, also a gift from Molly, who had been highly concerned about Harry's toes freezing since all the socks he owned tended to sport large holes around the toes, and underneath for that matter. Harry was grateful for the socks, more for the fact that they softened his steps than for the warmth they provided. He wasn't much for freezing.
As he reached the kitchen, Molly was already up. She was running around, preparing Christmas dinner already. Harry wondered if any woman had ever looked so homey as she did in that moment: her cheeks were rosy, she wore both an apron and a scarf over her fiery red hair, and was surrounded by the smell of ham, gingerbread cookies and eggnog.
"Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked while glancing at the clock, realizing it was not nearly as early as he had thought.
Molly turned out in one swift motion and smiled. Harry knew he would never get used to the warmth of her smile, and smiled back as kindly as he could.
"Yes. You can help me eat the eggs from the frying pan, and finish this plate of cookies." Molly winked towards him, as if they shared a secret between them and placed a plate with five whole cookies, fully decorated displayed. Harry smiled and nodded, from the start knowing fully well that Molly would never dream of having him help in the kitchen. He grabbed the plate, thanked her, and sat down at the kitchen table and indulged in the delicious breakfast. Also finding a few bacon strips in the frying pan, Harry was not at all surprised. That, together with a large glass of milk, made for a mighty first meal of the day.
"Fred and George are out in the yard, shoveling the snow away from the garden paths. Arthur and Percy went to get me more parsley. The others are still sleeping, and I think we might just keep it that way," Molly winked once more, and then turned to the stove.
As Harry ate his breakfast he wondered how the Dursley residence might look at the moment. He imagined the plastic Christmas tree, the store-bought ham, the perfectly wrapped presents under the tree, Petunia pretending to be working in the kitchen, while all she really did was put all things store-bought right into the oven. The kitchen, of course, was impeccably clean to the last detail, and Vernon and Dudley sat in the living room, Vernon reading and Dudley probably doing something along the lines of shaking his Christmas presents, putting all the soft gifts to the side. It was such a contrast to the Burrow, he thought as he looked around. The familiar clutter, the warmth, the kindness that seemed to penetrate the entire home… Harry wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. Not even for all the gifts Dudley would receive.
The kitchen door flew open. Fred flew into the room, back first, grabbed a cookie and then disappeared out again, forgetting to close the door behind him.
"Harry, get your butt out here!" George called before a ball of snow flew into the kitchen. Before Molly had the chance to notice, Harry waved his want, making the ball fly back out.
Harry smiled and swallowed the last of his breakfast. He pulled his shoes over his feet, thanked Molly for breakfast, and headed out the door.
"Jacket and scarf, Harry! You'll get cold!" heard Molly's voice seconds before Harry closed the door.
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, stuck a hand inside and grabbed his coat and a scarf.
Fred and George weren't, to no one's surprise, shoveling snow. Instead a full-on war had broken out, with balls of snow flying between them every moment they got. One hit Harry's shoulder, which meant that whether he liked it or not, he was now part of the chaos occurring in the Weasley's front yard.
It remained unclear who had won the drabble in the garden (as all three participants claimed they had won themselves), but after hours of laughing and snow melting in their shoes, the boys decided that maybe it did not matter all too much.
The dinner was absolutely marvelous, as always Molly had made a tremendous amount of food, for a woman with that many youngsters under her roof gets used to a certain amount of pageantry when it comes to important dinners. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had ate such a large amount of food, however every so often, he took a break from the ham and decided to glance at Ginny. She had become even more beautiful during the winter, it seemed she flourished from the snow, her skin glowing and her eyes glimmering with something Harry couldn't explain. He rarely dared to put words to it, since he feared that he wouldn't have a large enough vocabulary to do it justice, and would only cheapen it.
They exchanged gifts directly after dinner, which lasted long enough to become more of a heavy midnight snack. The discussions around the table had been of great variation, everything from the usage of microwave ovens (Arthur asked him why there was a need for a smaller, more insufficient oven when there already was a large one) to Ron becoming a prefect.
Harry did, just as expected, receive a sweater from Molly. From Arthur, he got a nice new pen, and Fred and George had gotten him some equipment for performing pranks, including a few small smoke bombs (Harry was already fantasizing about placing one somewhere on professor Snape) and a few small fireworks. Percy got him a notebook, leather-bound, and Ron had gotten him a new tie (Harry had for quite a while been struggling to hide a large ink stain that had spread its way across his current one), which was well needed. Ginny's gift was his favorite, a small collection of poetry, including many classic poems. The book was small, almost small enough to fit in his hand, and written with such small letters that even Hermione would have gotten a headache if reading it for too long.
As the night fell around the Burrow, the members of the family slowly drifted off to sleep, each in different beds. Harry had however hesitated to go to sleep so soon, and instead decided to stay in the living room and look out at the stars surrounding him, peaking over the fields and forests surrounding the Burrow. It was silent, stunning to view the small fires burning all over heaven.
"Why aren't you asleep?" a small voice asked him, coming from the door into the kitchen. As Harry turned around, he saw Ginny standing there, dressed in nightgown and robe, with bunny slippers on her feet. Harry smiled, they had been a gift from him for Christmas, it was good to know they were already in use.
"I just… I just wanted to stay up for a little while longer, it's so beautiful outside," he responded.
Ginny smiled softly, the sleep having laid a thin layer of drowsy over her face and eyes. They glimmered in the darkness surrounding her, Ginny's red hair already a mess from falling asleep. Harry smiled back.
"It really is… Get to bed soon though, you know Fred and George aren't going to let you sleep forever tomorrow," she said, just as soft as her smile. Harry nodded, he had already thought about going to sleep several times, but had thought I'll do it soon every single time the thought had come up. He had, of course, lied to himself and stayed up a lot longer than he had originally planned.
"Yeah, I will." Harry responded and thought about hugging her, but dared not to. He knew she was, despite her rough surface, easily startled. Like a lioness when hunting, maintaining focus and strength, but as soon as something breaks it, either fleeing or attacking. However, Harry had a hard time imagining Ginny fleeing from anything.
She smiled towards him one last time, and turned around to continue sleeping in her bedroom. But before she reached the stairs, she turned towards him and looked at him with a gaze Harry could only describe as confusing. Warm, but perplexing. The look on her face was impossible to interpret.
"Merry Christmas, Harry Potter."
And just like that, she was gone, taken up the stairs by her bunny covered feet. Harry was left in the chair he was sitting in, still equally puzzled by her facial expression. It was beautiful, however mystifying, making Harry's mind wander. He knew he probably should have responded, but somehow his brain had stopped working the instance Ginny looked at him with that peculiar glance, and he had completely forgotten everything related to common manners.
He looked out the window once more, noticing how heavy the snow fell outside once again, as if the clouds had come from nowhere during the few moments he had turned his attention to Ginny. Oh well… what better day to snow than Christmas eve? he asked himself as he slowly got up. With a swift movement, he shut off the lights in the living room, and took the same route as Ginny had taken earlier through the kitchen and up the stairs.
The Burrow rested.
Harry carefully snuck into the room he shared with Ron during each of his stays, and carefully slid beneath the covers. Hedwig was awake, looking out the window. Harry sighed, recognizing the longing look in her eyes, and got out of bed once more.
"Be back by morning," he whispered as he opened the window and let her out. She cooed thankfully, and then leapt out into the darkness.
Before Ron could notice the change in temperature, Harry closed the window and laid back down. Harry rested his glasses on the nightstand next to his bed, and closed his eyes. The house creaked as it settled around him, and Harry focused on the clam breaths of Ron, which was the only noise surrounding him.
The snow fell heavy in large flakes outside his window, the moon shining slightly through the clouds. Harry wondered if Hedwig would capture something, maybe a mouse hiding under the snow. The calm around him was refreshing, as he was used to everything else but peace and quiet. The Burrow's walls creaked slightly, and then fell silent after another few moments. Harry took this as a sign that he should too, fall asleep.
The last thing crossing Harry Potter's mind before he drifted off into a warm, comforting sleep, was the peculiar look on Ginny's face as she wished him a merry Christmas, and the heavy and steady breaths of his best friend, who slept just across the room. And so, as the Burrow rested, so did everyone in it.