Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Some text is taken directly from Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone

It was a rainy December morning that day at Hogwarts which discouraged the students of Hogwarts to go outside as they usually would've done. Hermione had left for home a few days ago, so that left Harry Potter and Ron Weasley to play a game of Wizarding Chess by themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room.

After making a particularly good move against Harry, Ron said, "So are you excited for Christmas this year?"

To his surprise his best friend did not respond with an enthusiastic "Yes!" but rather he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so," Harry mumbled, but in Ron's opinion he didn't sound all that happy. "I don't usually get anything though."

Ron bit his lip unsure of what to say. Harry had hinted at not getting many gifts from his relatives, but surely that didn't extend to Christmas. "The Muggles don't get you anything? Do they not celebrate Christmas?"

Harry let out a dry laugh with no humour in it as he made a rather poor move on the chess board. "No, they celebrate it, but I never get anything."

"Maybe this year will be different," Ron said after a few moments of awkward silence had passed.

Harry only shrugged.

Later that night Ron sat by the window quietly while Harry and the others snored softly in their beds. He couldn't help but worry over what Harry had said about Christmas. His best friend was only eleven after all! He shouldn't be going without presents for Christmas. He sighed. He would've bought Harry something himself if he had any money, but Ronald Weasley was as broke as could be. He sat in frustration for a few minutes before an idea flashed in his head. Of course! He could write Mum and she would send Harry a present? Of course it was only a few days before the holidays, but surely she had time to at least send him some candy right? He smiled as he went to bed with his plan intact.

Molly Weasley had just finished sending Ginny upstairs to bed and was looking forward to having a warm cuddle with her husband when one of the school owls came flying through the kitchen before dropping a letter on the ledge.

Molly picked up the letter and smiled when she realized that the writing was that of her youngest son.

Dear Mum,

I've made friends with Harry Potter and he's a really nice kid, but I don't think he's getting anything for Christmas. I would get him something but I don't have money? Could you send him something please? Say hi to Ginny and Dad for me.

Love,

Ron

Mrs. Weasley frowned as she read the letter again. A child not get anything for Christmas? Well, she thought as she began to rummage around for her yarn and sewing needles that just wouldn't do. It was in this fashion that Arthur Weasley found his wife at the kitchen table knitting an emerald green sweater.

"Mollywobbles did we adopt another child while I was outside," Arthur asked with a smile on his face as he bent down to give his wife a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"Arthur, I believe we have," Molly said decidedly.

On Christmas morning, Ron Weasley was woken up early as Harry jumped up in bed upon seeing the small package of presents left on the floor.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and

pulled on his bathrobe before rushing over to his presents with an excited look on his face

"You, too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which

was a lot bigger than Harry's. Inwardly though he smiled pleased that his mother had been able to do this on such a short notice.

Ron watched as Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and

scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut

wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it --

it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle

Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence and studied it dumbfounded.

"Weird!" he said, 'NMat a shape! This is money?"

160

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing.

"Hagrid

and my aunt and uncle -- so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and

pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect

any presents and -- oh, no, "he groaned," she's made you a Weasley

sweater." Ron shifted uncomfortably. While he loved the sweaters he didn't know if Harry would feel the same way.

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in

emerald-green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and

mine's always maroon." He shoved down the small feeling of hurt this caused him. It was Christmas after all and she had to make sweaters for everyone so he shou;dn't have been upset that she had forgotten his least favorite color. Anyway Harry was happy, which meant his plan worked at least.

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was a specialty of Mrs. Weasleys and a favorite among all seven of the Weasley children.

As Ron watched Harry eat the fudge he decided that no matter how worried he had been about the presents, at least his best mate was happy now. And that was one of the best presents Ronald Weasley could ask for.

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