'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Burrow, not a creature was stirring, not even a kneazle… and I should know. I had tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, pummelled my pillows in an effort to make them more comfortable, and rearranged the bedclothes at least a dozen times, but to no avail. I could not, for the life of me, get to sleep. Yes, I, Hermione Granger, smartest witch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (not to blow my own horn or anything), simply could not drift off. I may be all "books and cleverness", as I had once described myself, but there were no books on how to get to sleep.
'Of course, my apparent insomnia had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was the night before Christmas, and everything to do with the fact that I was separated by only a few metres of house from one Ronald Bilius Weasley who I happened to be quite smitten with. Not that I would admit to it, of course. I had long since given up hope of him ever realizing my feelings for him, or ever reciprocating them, but that didn't stop me from having them.
'I could tell from the sound of the light snoring coming from the bed next to mine that Ginny had long since achieved what I could not. Glancing up at the wizard clock on the wall, I saw that it was indeed "TIME YOU WERE ASLEEP", and by checking my muggle wristwatch I discovered that it was exactly 3.41am, Christmas morning.
'Deciding that there was no point in trying to sleep, I rolled out of bed and quietly made my way downstairs to the Burrow's cosy living room. The embers from that night's fire still glowed brightly in the grate, although the fire had gone out. The overall effect created was of a soft, warm light being cast over the room.
'I walked over to sit on the large sofa facing the fireplace, and nearly gasped in surprise upon discovering that the sofa in question was already occupied.
'Molly Weasley turned her head from where she was sitting, staring as though mesmerised into the glowing coals, as she sensed my entrance out of the corner of her vision. She smiled warmly at me and patted the cushion next to her.
'"Can't sleep, dear?" she asked.
'"No, I'm afraid I can't," I replied, sitting down next to her.
'"Well, not to worry," she said. "I'll go make us some tea."
'I thanked her politely and settled back onto the sofa, staring ahead at the fireplace. It was easy to see why Molly would want to simply sit and stare at it. The warm glow issuing from the embers was so inviting, even mesmerizing to look at. As I sat there I thought of my parents, who had gone back to France for Christmas. They had invited me to come with them, but I had declined, stating that I had seen enough of the country last time I was there, and that I had wanted to spend Christmas with Harry and the Weasleys this year. Especially since last Christmas at the Order Headquarters, Grimmauld Place had been such a disaster. That was what I had told them. What I hadn't told them was that I really wanted to spend Christmas with the youngest Weasley boy; my best friend, Ron. I hadn't told them that I had had quite the crush on said boy for several years now, and despite his obvious lack of reciprocation of my more-than-friendly feelings, I couldn't stand to be apart from him for longer than was absolutely necessary.
'The rattling of china told me that Molly had returned, carrying two mugs of steaming tea on a silver tray. Snapping out of my reverie, I turned to take the mug she held out to me, and in doing so noticed that she also carried a large, leather-bound book under one arm. My curiosity was instantly aroused, and I watched attentively as she placed the book on hear lap and opened the front cover.
'"This is our Christmas photo album," she said, gazing fondly down at the brightly coloured moving photographs displayed before her. "Drink your tea, dear, before it goes cold," she added then, noticing that I had forgotten it at the appearance of the album. I sipped the hot, sweet liquid and felt a calming warmth spread through me as I leaned in to look at the pictures.
'"Every year on Christmas day we take lots of photographs of the family and put them all together in this album, to preserve the memories. Of course, we're not always together as a family on Christmas, but we do what we can," Molly said, flicking through the first few pages until she found what she was looking for. "Ah, here it is, Ron's first Christmas." She pointed to the first photo on the page, which showed her and Arthur standing in front of a large Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, surrounded by five smiling, red-headed boys. Bill and Charlie were smiling broadly while the former stuck his fingers up behind Percy's head. Percy was scowling because Fred or George, I was not sure which, was standing on his foot, while the twins grinned identical evil grins and neither of them looked the least bit sorry. I supposed they were up to something devious, even at their young age. In the centre of the photo, cradled in Molly Weasley's arms, was a chubby looking baby with a shock of trademarked Weasley red hair, who was sleeping peacefully as his parents alternately beamed down at their newest son and smiled for the camera, or leaned over to tell off one of the older boys.
'I had to smile at the next photo, which showed Ron dressed up in his first Weasley Christmas jumper. He was awake in this one, and scowling, as though he already hated its colour, maroon. The other boys were gathered around him wearing their own jumpers.
'The next two photos made me laugh out loud while Molly clicked her tongue disapprovingly, but still could not keep a small smile from gracing her lips. The first was of the Christmas tree again, only this time Percy was the focus of the picture, as he was in the process of being tied to the tree by Fred and George, with a long rope of coloured lights. The twins were cackling to themselves as they held the end of the string, running around the tree while Percy struggled and yelled something indistinguishable at them. The second photo was of Christmas dinner, showing the 6 boys seated around the table. Ron was in his high-chair, wearing a yellow bib with a picture of a teddy-bear on it. He smiled gleefully while the other boys shielded their faces and clothes as best they could from the squishy handfuls of pureed turkey and cranberry sauce he was showering them with.
'"This is one of my favourites," said Molly, indicating the next photograph. "Our first Christmas together as a complete family."
'The picture was similar to the first one she had shown me, only this time Ron was a toddler, standing on the ground holding his father's hand while baby Ginny was cradled in her mother's arms. This year George was pulling Percy's hair, while Charlie was eyeing off the small pile of presents beneath the tree behind him. Looking back at the other photos, I could see how the boys had grown over the year.
And so the photos went on, each year featuring similar photos of the Weasleys gathered around the tree, eating dinner and making merry (or in Fred and George's case, mischief), until one on the very last page caught my eye. It was obviously taken last Christmas, as I recognised the room as being the one Harry and Ron stayed in at Grimmauld Place while Arthur was recovering from being attacked by the snake. It was light, and I guessed it must have been early on the morning, as Ron was still sleeping stretched out on his bed, on his stomach, his limbs thrown out at odd angles as his back rose and fell gently with his even breathing. All of this, of course was unremarkable, but the part of the picture which provoked my curiosity was another photograph within the photograph, lying on Ron's pillow. It was of the two of us, taken at the end of the previous school year, and my stomach backflipped as I realized that Ron must have been looking at it as he fell asleep.
'I remembered when the photo had been taken, on platform 9¾, just before we exited through the barrier into Kingswood Station. Colin Creevey had appeared, waving his camera excitedly, and asked for a photo of Harry, Ron and I. We had obliged, but Harry had stepped away afterwards, asking Colin to take another photo of just Ron and I for him, and pushing us roughly together to be snapped before we had a chance to protest. Squinting as I looked at the tiny photo, I saw that Ron had his arm around my shoulders, probably to stop us both from falling from Harry's shoving, I imagined. However, the blush that was rising on the former's cheeks (and ears) perhaps suggested otherwise. I then felt my own cheeks colour slightly as I noticed the Ron in the photo regain his balance, but then continue to pull photo-me closer to him, while both of us blushed and smiled shyly. I was marvelling at this simple gesture, which I must have missed when the photo was taken, when Mrs. Weasley spoke softly, and I realized that I had been staring intently at the photo for nearly a whole minute.
'"That is one of my favourites," she said, smiling warmly as I started slightly and ripped my gaze from the picture. "Well, drink your tea, Hermione dear," she said, and I noticed that her own cup was empty.
'"Thankyou Mrs. Weasley," I said, gulping down the rest of my tea now that it had cooled off. "I don't think I will have any more trouble sleeping." I placed the empty mug on the tray and smiled appreciatively before standing.
'"You're welcome dear. Goodnight, sweet dreams," she said, picking up the tray and heading back towards the kitchen, but leaving the photo album on the coffee table. I hesitated a moment before I moved off, causing Molly to turn back around and look at me, enquiringly.
'"Mrs. Weasley?" I asked, sheepishly.
'"Please, call me Molly," she said.
'"Molly, May I… May I have this?" I asked, pointing to the photo I had spent so long looking at.
'"Of course," Molly replied. "Now, off to bed. Happy Christmas." And with that she turned and continued to the kitchen, leaving me to slip my precious new possession out of its protective cover and make my way up to bed.
'Once I got to my bed in Ginny's room, I lay down on my back and held the photo above me, taking one last, long look at it in the dark. I then slipped it under my pillow, not wanting to be caught like Ron had the year before.
'I wasn't sure wether it was because of Molly Weasley's special tea, or the warm feelings of anticipation that were rising inside me as I imagined that perhaps Ron did return some of my non-platonic feelings for him, but I had no further troubles getting to sleep that night,' Hermione said, smiling at the excitement she still felt about that night, even after so many years.
'Is that a real story, auntie 'Mione?' asked Sarah Weasley, eldest daughter of Fred and Angelina Weasley.
'Yes, it is,' said Hermione. 'That's exactly what happened on the day I found out your uncle Ron was in love with me.' Sarah's younger twin brothers, Thomas and Myles, made retching noises behind her, but Sarah ignored them.
'I liked how you leaved all the big words in,' Sarah said, appreciatively. She flicked over another page in the large photo album opened on the floor in front of her and pointed to another photo. 'Now tell me a story about this picture.'