A Very Harry Christmas
Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London. Christmas Eve, 2000. 1.00pm:
"I'll see you later!" called Ginny with a grin, stepping out of the front door arm-in-arm with Demelza Robins. The two young women were wrapped up against the bitter cold, heading out for a Christmas meal together. It had been Demelza's idea: she had just had her front-page story in the Prophet and Ginny had just made the Harpies' first team, so she had decided that a celebration was in order. They were going to the Fourth Broomstick, a fancy new restaurant that Madam Rosemerta had set up in Knockturn Alley to expand her business. The Fourth Broomstick was the flagship development for Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hermione Granger's renewal and redevelopment plan for Diagon Alley's insalubrious neighbour. Although the concept of urban redevelopment was a very Muggle one, Knockturn Alley's historical association with the Dark Arts brought its own very unique set of planning considerations. In fact, Harry reflected as he waved goodbye to his fiancé, the Knockturn Redevelopment Area Public Enterprise Scheme (often abbreviated to the KRAPE Scheme), was probably the only public works project in human history to involve major decontamination work, archaeology of the sort usually only seen in Muggle Indiana Jones films, and an exorcism.
The Four Broomsticks was the first business to open its doors in the revitalised street, and various public figures had been invited for the grand opening on December 22nd, including the so-called 'Heroes of Hogwarts'. It had been, as these things usually are, an awkward affair with far too many photoshoots and inane questions from journalists, and neither Harry nor Ginny had managed to find time to sample the food (Ron and George, however, had managed to stuff their faces in between George pitching WWW's latest products to the surrounding reporters). This had given Demelza an idea: turn her and Ginny's pre-planned celebration lunch into a more casual visit to the new establishment followed by some Christmas shopping. There was just one problem.
That had been Harry's idea too.
The previous Christmas, Molly Weasley had insisted on inviting all her children plus their significant others and several family friends home for an extended Christmas celebration that ran from the 22nd to New Year's Day. Old schoolmates such as Neville and Luna had visited, as had several surviving Order members including Minister Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall. The Christmas before that had also been spent in the Burrow, with Harry getting a rare opportunity to spend time with Ginny in the midst of her seventh year at Hogwarts and his Auror training. This year, they actually had Christmas Eve together, before travelling to the Burrow for Christmas Dinner, and Harry had planned to bring Ginny for a romantic dinner in the Four Broomsticks to celebrate their first full year in the refurbished Grimmauld Place. When Demelza had arrived to collect Ginny and announced their destination, Ginny had been delighted and Harry had worked hard to hide his devastation. His plan was in ruins, and he only had a few hours to come up with a new one.
So far, he wasn't having any luck. In desperation, he threw a handful of Floo Powder on the fire, stuck his head in the flames and yelled out "The Conifers!"
The Conifers was a Victorian mansion house in the Berkshire countryside that had most recently been owned by a wealthy Muggle property developer. His bankruptcy and subsequent trial for embezzlement from his own company had occupied tabloid attention for over a month, with much speculation about the identity of the anonymous individual who had bought his country pile for a knock-down price at auction. The answer to that enigma, as Harry knew perfectly well, was Hermione Jean Granger, head and chief architect of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Post-War Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
As the worn flagstones of the mansion's kitchen (Hermione said they had "historical appeal") swam into focus, Harry saw the familiar shape of Ron Weasley sitting at the table eating a sandwich. The redhead looked up from his snack, saw his best friend's look of utter desperation and hurried over to the fireplace.
"What's wrong, mate? No offence, but you look terrible."
"Is Hermione there?" Harry answered Ron's question with one of his own.
"Nah, still in work, of course," the latter replied, spewing breadcrumbs everywhere.
Hermione always very been driven about her work, which was as much a passion project for her as it was a job, but departmental rumours putting her as the favourite for the next head of the DMLE had sent her into overdrive. It actually didn't surprise Harry that she was still in the office at lunchtime on Christmas Eve. He swore.
""Should've called there first. I have to go…"
"Harry, come on," said Ron, "what's all this about?"
"Later! No time!" replied Harry, pulling his head out of the fire and preparing to Floo Hermione's office.
The Office of the Head of the Post-War Truth and Reconciliation Commission, DMLE, Ministry of Magic, London. Christmas Eve, 2000. 2.00pm:
Harry had babbled about his predicament to Hermione for a good half-an-hour without letting her get a word in edgeways, until at last the flustered witch had insisted that he Floo to her office for a mug of hot chocolate and a proper conversation.
"So," she said, "you're having a little spot of festive bother. It's not a big deal though. You can still do fancy dinner with Ginny."
"Not really," he groaned, "she won't want a big dinner after eating a full meal out, it's not just a quick lunch anymore now that they're going to the Fourth Broomstick. And besides, I don't want to just replicate what Demelza's done for her. So either I have to scrap the plan entirely or come up with a whole new way of doing Christmas Eve."
Hermione thought for a minute, and then a slow smile spread across her face.
"Well…" she began, "dinner out isn't the most Christmassy of things anyway. Why not go for something a little more classic? All you need is the right inspiration!"
She got up from her desk and marched over to a tall cabinet in the corner of her office, opening the doors to reveal a Pensieve. Tapping her wand on the side of Harry's head, she removed a silvery strand of memories and placed it in the basin.
"Come on," she said, taking his hand. "We have work to do."
The next three-quarters-of-an-hour was mostly devoted to reviewing Harry's Christmases at Hogwarts, the two friends revisiting their schooldays with feelings of joy. Some memories of Harry's childhood Christmases with the Dursleys had also slipped into the mix, and Hermione watched those while chewing a hole in her lip and blinking back tears, dismissing them as "a primer in what not to do." After that, Hermione showed him memories of some of her childhood Christmas celebrations, so he could see what a Muggle Christmas was really like.
Back in her office, slightly disoriented and drinking another hot chocolate, Harry knew exactly what he had to do. Up until now, he had never really thought about how lucky he had been to experience the magic of a Hogwarts Christmas, filled with joy, fun, and delicious food. That was what he had to do this year. He had to recreate a proper Christmas, with mulled wine and carols and decorations everywhere. Hermione grinned at his enthusiasm.
"I can probably finish work early today," she said, "and help you get some things in Muggle London. But then you're on your own."
Diagon Alley, London. Christmas Eve, 2000. 5.00pm:
Harry stood in the middle of a swirling, bustling crowd, surrounded by light, noise and gaudy colours. Christmas shopping with Hermione hadn't been too bad; a trip to Harrods executed with military precision followed by a quick stop-off at Grimmauld Place to stash his purchases and pick up his Invisibility Cloak in case he ran into Ginny on stage two of his shopping trip.
Diagon Alley, however, was proving trickier.
He was spoilt for choice, and felt like a child in Honeydukes. Not to mention the fact that he was tired and, without Hermione to help, completely overwhelmed by the crowds, noise and sheer number of shops. There were dozens of shops in Diagon Alley that he had ignored or never had cause to enter since his introduction to the wizarding world nearly a decade ago. Put simply, he didn't have a clue where to start, and is increasingly-disoriented wanderings had brought him to a very familiar purple shop window…
"Looking for a romantic gift for my sister?" came a familiar voice from behind him, making him jump. "Much as I should be promoting my own wares – not that we need the business, it's like a warzone in there right now - I doubt you'll find the right thing here."
"Hi George," said Harry tersely.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from our main investor?"
Harry pondered what to say for a second but settled on telling George the truth. After all, the man had years of experience with planning parties, and in recent months he had started to become more his old self, moving out of the shell he had built up while mourning his twin. George listened to his quick summary with interest, and then flashed an excited grin.
"Well, maybe you did come to the right shop after all! We can start here and move on to one or two other places. I've developed a range of festive decorations designed to improve on the stuff they had in Hogwarts during our time there, singing statues and so on. One or two things from that collection might be exactly what you need."
He pulled Harry into the shop, babbling away about Temporary Sticking Charms and the difficulties involved in teaching magical statues to sing, before suddenly stopping short and pulling Harry into the back of the shop.
"And here's our latest product, I'm due to launch it in… oh, fifteen minutes. Magical fake snow that falls and glides around your house! And can be tidied away for future use with a flick of your wand!"
He shoved two bags into Harry's arms and added three statues and a set of magical Christmas tree lights that could move around the tree by themselves.
"The apothecary are selling mistletoe," he said with a wink, so pop in there before you go home, and I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas!"
Harry could feel his cheeks start to glow.
The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley. Christmas Eve, 2000. 5.30pm
Harry stumbled into a corner booth and put down his shopping bags with a sigh of relief. Just as he had been about Disapparate back to Grimmauld Place he had felt his DA Galleon heat up in his pocket, but his hands had been too full to take it out and check it. With cold, fumbling fingers, he withdrew it to see a message from Ginny saying she wouldn't be home until seven. He sat down, thinking he might order a drink before going home. He needed to think. Something wasn't quite right yet, and he was glad that he had a bit more time to work it out.
Hermione's Christmas memories had contained some useful inspiration, and one of the things that Harry had really liked was the homemade decorations. Every year, Hermione would arrive home from primary school with another decoration she had made in art class. They weren't always perfect, but she had put her heart and soul into them, and that made them more meaningful than the other shop-bought decorations. He wanted to do something like that.
The problem was that he had never really done any arts and crafts in school or with the Dursleys, so he hadn't the faintest idea of where to begin, and he didn't want to pester Hermione for help again.
His train of thought was interrupted by someone sitting down opposite him.
"Hi, Harry," said Luna Lovegood dreamily. "Christmas plans going well?"
He looked at her in surprise.
"I was visiting Ronald and Hermione earlier, and Hermione told me about your Christmas plans with Ginny. I think it's really very nice of you. Hermione knew you had a lot left to do, and I suggested that maybe somebody should check up on you later in the day. She told me to go, so I went."
"Thanks," said Harry, a little nonplussed by his friends gossiping about his surprise, "I haven't managed to finish everything yet, actually."
"What do you still need to do?" asked the blonde, frowning slightly.
"I wanted to make a decoration myself," Harry replied, suspecting that he looked as downcast as he felt about his lack of artistic ability, "but I don't really know how to."
Luna's frown disappeared, being replaced by her signature look of concussed amiability.
"I can help with that!" she said happily. "I love making things."
It was true, Harry reflected, as he found himself agreeing to drop his things back at Grimmauld place and Floo to the Lovegood house. Whatever one might say about Luna's battiness, she was certainly artistically talented.
The Lovegood house, outside Ottery St Catchpole, Devon. Christmas Eve, 2000. 6.00pm:
Luna was showing Harry how to make a start to put on top of his Christmas tree. The funny thing, he realised, was that all the materials she was using were standard Muggle fare. Nothing magical at all.
"Someday, when you have children, you can do this with them," she remarked as she watched him fold paper.
Harry blinked.
"Children? It's a little early for that, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, I don't mean right away, of course, but someday. I think you'll have three," she added solemnly, "two boys and a girl. And you'll all be very happy together and every Christmas you'll tell them the story of your first Christmas with their Mum and all the things you did and how you learned to make decorations, because that's what parents do. And your children will probably complain that the story is boring, but they'll listen anyway, because Christmas is all about tradition. Now fold it the other way."
The sudden switch in conversational tack disconcerted Harry, but he managed to follow the rest of Luna's instructions and was soon looking at a perfect paper star.
"Now," said Luna, opening a jar of silver glitter, "for the magic."
She flicked her wand and the star levitated in the air. Flicking it again covered it in sliver glitter, leaving it spinning unsupported a head height, twinkling like a diamond.
"There you go," she smiled, "bring it home and it will hover above your tree."
"Thank you!" said Harry, pulling the surprised girl in for a quick hug, "that's wonderful."
Luna just smiled her odd little smile and waved goodbye to him as he Flooed back home.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London. Christmas Eve, 2000. 7.00pm:
"I'll see you soon!" called Ginny, standing on the top step of her house and waving goodbye to Demelza.
She stepped into the house and immediately smelled mince pies baking. She wandered down to the kitchen to see Kreacher working away at the oven, whistling a slightly out-of-tune version of the Sussex Carol.
"Ah, Mistress Ginny! Master Harry is waiting for you upstairs in the living room, please go on up and I will bring you mince pies and mulled wine in a moment" wheezed the old elf with a big smile.
She tiptoed upstairs, hoping to catch her fiancé by surprise, but when she opened the living room door and stepped inside that suddenly became a minor consideration.
She had walked into a winter wonderland. Snow gently drifted down from the ceiling, there was an enormous tree in the corner covered in magical lights that shimmered and twisted as she watched and topped off with a slowly-rotating spinning star, and three statues of snowmen were singing Silent Night in a pleasing baritone. In the middle of it all, looking somewhat sheepish, was Harry.
"Merry Christmas, love," he muttered shyly as she approached.
She threw her arms around him before suddenly realising that they were standing under mistletoe and reaching up to kiss him. As they pulled apart, he took her hand and led her to the table. The two of them sat down, and Kreacher appeared with food and drink. Harry raised his glass.
"To all the Christmases to come," he said.
A/N: This one was written for the Teachers' Lounge Holiday Fic Exchange. Think of it as being a secret Santa for fanfics. I drew Bad Myrtle, and of her prompts I chose the following:
Story prompts: 'Someone makes someone else look at things in a new way' and a little bit of 'Celebrations in a time of adversity'
Word prompts: 'fireplace, "She told me to go, so I went", diamond.
I was also inspired by a couple of other things: A Christmas Carol and my favourite adaptation thereof (A Muppet Christmas Carol. Obviously). The Arrow season two Christmas episode 'Three Ghosts'. O Henry's short story 'The Gift of the Magi' (very indirect inspiration, I'll admit), the How I Met Your Mother Christmas episodes (especially 'How Lily Stole Christmas') and Arthur's Perfect Christmas.
And the Sussex Carol is easily my favourite Christmas carol.