"The thing about Christmas is that, no matter how old you get, it remains one of the most magical days of the year."
Ginny remembered Hermione saying that, one Christmas before the world had erupted in blood and death, and remembered how true she thought that was.
They had been talking about the differences between Muggle and magical Christmases, and Hermione had admitted that one of the things she found most wonderful about being a witch and having magic was that she didn't have to be practical and lose that wonder about life and the holidays because it was real - all of it.
Ginny remembered thinking that Christmas was a deeper sort of magic than they could ever teach at Hogwarts, but that she knew what Hermione meant.
Christmas was handmade sweaters, and tins of fudge. It was making gifts for your family, because even if you didn't have money you could give the gift of time and thought. It was hot cider, and hot chocolate, and warm soup and beef stew. It was listening to Christmas songs, and singing along, and moaning when Mum's favorites needed to be played over and over because that was tradition too.
Christmas was wonder and possibility. It was about turning the shortest darkest days of the year into some of the brightest and most full of hope. It was warmth and optimism, and it was family and friends, and sharing and giving, and not needing anything more because that was all that was good in life.
Christmas was about love, and wasn't that just the most magical thing of all?