It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas in the Prewett household. All the signs were there: the divine smell of home-baked mince pies (Amanda Prewett was as brilliant a cook as her daughter would be in later life), a thin dusting of snow coating the ground and Christmas cards lining the mantelpiece. But there was something missing, and seven-year-old Molly Prewett could not work out what it was.
Molly was restless. She was restless because tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Christmas Day was amazing - the presents, the turkey, the visits from family; Molly loved seeing her older cousins and hearing them gossip about Hogwarts. Molly hung on their every word and longed for the day when she would be able to join in - she was endlessly jealous of her older brothers, Fabian and Gideon, who had just returned from their first term at Hogwarts but wouldn't talk to her any more. Famous for being pranksters, they were usually raucous and wild, but today they were huddled up in a corner, quietly making card towers, so Molly had nothing to do except wait for the day when she could attend Hogwarts and be able to join in their conversations again. As the youngest member of the family, Molly had to do a lot of waiting. She hated it. Except on Christmas Eve.
Molly loved Christmas Eve almost as much as she loved Christmas Day - in fact, it seemed even more magical. Hanging out her stocking, putting out the mince pies for Santa and the carrots for the reindeer and going to the crib service in the Muggle church where they had real live donkeys and lambs for the Nativity gave a sense of anticipation that nothing could beat. But this year, Molly was not even beginning to feel the atmosphere.
"Mummy, why aren't I excited?" Molly asked her mother, Amanda, who was busying with the dinner in the kitchen.
"I don't know, darling, I'm sure you will be tomorrow," Amanda replied distractedly - the clock had chimed six twenty minutes ago, meaning that Molly's father, John Prewett, was twenty minutes late home from his job in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry, and worry lines were already starting to cross Amanda's face.
"No, I won't," Molly insisted. She could be a very stubborn child when she wanted to. "We've forgotten something."
"What do you mean, darling, don't be silly," said Amanda, and Molly's next words were drowned out by the loud crack of her father Apparating outside the back door, and her mother, relief flooding over her face, rushing to let him in.
"John, thank goodness," Amanda sighed, embracing him as he bent down to kiss her cheek.
"What, you were worried? You shouldn't have been," he laughed, "you know what my job's like. You never know when there'll be another Accident or Catastrophe," he joked, and Amanda smiled weakly.
"I know," she said, "but I can't help worrying. It's my job."
Then Molly ran over to her father and exclaimed, "Daddy!"
"Hey, princess," he grinned, and Molly never tired of the joy her father got just by seeing her face. "How are you?"
Molly opened her mouth to answer, but John kept speaking to Amanda: "Yes, the latest 'catastrophe' was the Christmas tree in the atrium collapsing on some poor old dear and, surprise surprise, we were the ones left to deal with it. Don't know how you could class that as a magical catastrophe, but you know how it is..."
But Molly had disengaged from the conversation as soon as he had said "tree".
"Mummy, Mummy, that's what we've forgotten! The tree!"
"What's that, darling?" asked John.
"Oh, nothing," said Amanda, "just something Molly was saying earlier. A tree?" she asked sheepishly, as if she had hoped Molly had forgotten. "Well, they're a lot of money... and with Daddy so busy with work... and you know it's so late now that there will only be scrawny ones left..."
"Nonsense," John declared. "If you want a tree, Moll, I will get you one if it's the last thing I do."
"But John..." Amanda began, but John cut across her.
"No buts. How long will dinner be?"
Amanda opened the oven to check on the Shepherd's Pie that was baking in there. "About five minutes. But John -"
"Right. We'll have dinner and then I'll go and find a tree," John decided, and when Amanda opened her mouth to speak, he said, "When Molly wakes up in the morning, she'll have a tree, and nothing you can say will change my mind."
"Oh, all right then," Amanda said reluctantly. "But be careful."
"Molly, you need to go to bed now."
"No."
"Come on," pleaded Amanda. "You won't enjoy Christmas Eve if you're tired."
"I want to see the tree."
"It's not going anywhere, you can wait until the morning," reasoned Amanda.
"Daddy would let me stay up."
"Daddy is a man, and therefore doesn't think about the consequences of his actions."
"Please, Mummy? Please?"
Amanda softened at the look of desperation on her daughter's face.
"Ok then. But only if you promise not to be grumpy in the morning!"
"I won't," said Molly, and Amanda knew that it was true - she would never be grumpy on her favourite day of the year.
Just then, there was another crack as Molly's father Apparated outside the door and Molly's face lit up in excitement as she rushed out to see him.
"Did you get it, Daddy? Did you?"
"All in good time, Princess," he winked. "First I need two strong young lads to help me carry it in. Boys?"
"We're your men," said Fabian and Gideon in unison, as the twins emerged enthusiastically from their corner, eager to help as their masculinity was being recognised. John knew how to flatter and get a reaction out of anyone.
"But you're not seeing it, Molls," said John, and Molly's face fell. "You're not seeing it until we've decorated it, then it can be a wonderful surprise for you."
"But Daddy!" Molly protested. "I hate waiting!"
"Well, you'll just have to," said Fabian in a singsong voice.
"Little Moll has to wait outside while the big boys get her tree ready for her," teased Gideon.
"Fabe, Giddy, that's not funny!" Molly exclaimed, near tears. "And Daddy," she said, turning to her father, and it was at times like these that you could see a shadow of the formidably stern woman she would one day become, "that's not fair!"
"And what makes you think that I would ever be unfair to my little princess?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. "It'll be worth it. I promise." And Molly believed him. Her Daddy never broke his promises.
"You can come in now!" yelled the twins as one.
John came out of the living room and put his hands over Molly's eyes. He began to guide her across the room. If it had been one of the twins, Molly would have been scared of walking into something, but it was Daddy, and Molly trusted her Daddy completely. Then they came to a halt, and Molly's eyes were opened to the most wondrous sight of her life.
It was the biggest tree she had seen in her life, or at least it seemed like it was, as the sparkly star on the top almost brushed the ceiling of their tiny living room. It didn't look like it could have taken any more decorations - tinsel of every colour overflowed from the branches, most of which were weighed down by baubles of every description; not only your straightforward red spheres, but snowballs, toy soldiers, angels with assorted musical instruments, Christmas wreaths and anything else you could imagine hanging from strings. There were not only coloured and flashing fairy lights, but also real live fairies zooming round the tree, smiling and giggling. Molly giggled too and reached out to touch one, but it snarled and bit her, leaving an angry mark on her finger.
"Oh - Mummy, look what happened!" Molly exclaimed in shock, and tears burned at her eyes but she did not give in to them - she was a big girl, and she had to be brave because she was going to be in Gryffindor, like her brothers.
"Oh no, sweetheart, come here," said Amanda, who kissed it and performed some sort of non-verbal healing charm on it, as the lump faded and the pain receded as Amanda muttered something about being irresponsible to John, who just laughed and rolled his eyes.
"So how do you like it, princess?" asked John.
"It's... it's... wonderful," Molly sighed, her little face crinkling as she yawned.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," said Amanda, softly.
"But we haven't had a picture yet!" John protested.
"John, look how tired she is. She needs to be read a story, then she needs to go to bed."
"I know, why don't you tell her a story down here?" John suggested.
"Ok," Amanda agreed. "Once upon a time, there was a -"
"Smile for the camera," John cut across.
"John!" Amanda scolded. "Don't interrupt."
"Sorry," he said. "Just let me take this one picture. Smile, Molly!"
But though Molly had provided a suitably cheesy smile to start with, like any seven-year-old she was quickly distracted and the photo in the album that would be perused by future Prewetts and Weasleys showed Molly's look of wonder as she gazed into her reflection in a scarlet bauble. Then she yawned and stretched before snuggling into her Daddy's lap, and before her mother's story was finished, she was fast asleep.
A/N: So this is my entry for Morning Lilies's Photo Album Competition on the HPFC forum. Caption: "December 23, 1957 - Molly Prewett (age 7) and her mother beside the Christmas tree, admiring the the pretty ornaments while Mummy tells a story."
I hope you liked it, if you drop me a review I will love you forever :D Constructive criticism welcome, how else will I improve? This is my first attempt at a one-shot, so I hope it was ok!
If you want to read more from me, check out my multi-chapter stories: "Son of a Malfoy" (which I am currently working on an epilogue for), "Heartless" (which I am looking for a BETA for, pleeease PM me if you think you can help) and "Truth or Dare?".
Thanks again for reading, and I hope you all had a great Christmas and have a Happy New Year!
Love as always,
WeasleySeeker xx