A/N: I've never written all dialogue before. At least I don't think I have. Anyway, this was a lot of fun. It was written for the HPFC 2010's Secret Santa. This one's for Angel-of-Cake. As so, it's an interesting pairing that I recently became fond of: Padma/Anthony.

Warning: Be prepared for holiday fluff.

"Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o'er the plains."

"Hey, can you hand me another handful?"

"Yeah, here you go."

"Thanks, dear."

…

"Aren't you going to keep singing?"

"What?"

"You were in the middle of a song."

"Well, I stopped."

"Oh."

…

"Why?"

"What? Why what?"

"Why'd you stop?"

"Singing? Oh, I didn't know you liked listening to my singing so much."

"You know I do."

…

"Hm, hm, hm, hmmm, hmmm, hm, hmmm. Hm, hm, hm, hmm, hmmm, hm, hmm."

"Have any more tinsel?"

"Yee-eeeee-eeeee-eees, my dar-ling."

"All right, that's a tad annoying."

"I thought you liked my voice."

"I do. But not when it's singing your responses to me in the drawn out tune of Gloria's."

"So picky, you are."

"Need I remind you who insisted on making mince pies the 'non-magic' way, measuring exactly one ounce of mincemeat in every pie, and perfectly centering the dough star on every single one?"

"Hey! You like the pies I make —"

"We mak—"

"— and they are well worth the time investment!"

"They better be! My mum makes twice as many pies in half the time! And your mum makes ten times the number in an even smaller fraction."

"Well, my mother cheats and uses magic."

"This is true."

"Would lie to you?"

"Yes."

"Wha… what?"

"Yes, you would lie to me."

"How can you say that? And so casually? I do not lie to you, Anthony!"

"You just did a few hours ago! You blamed the death of my beautiful gingerbread house on Merlin!"

"Well, technically, it was Merlin's fault. Your stupid cat wrapped himself around my ankles and tripped me, causing me to fall onto that marvelously constructed house."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. And Merlin didn't trip you; he frightened you, and you flipped out and fell all on your own. This lying habit of yours has gotten quite bad."

"So has your vocabulary, ex-Ravenclaw Prefect."

"At least I still manage to outwit you, my dear ex-partner."

"In a way, we still are partners."

"Fine, my ex-Prefect partner."

"Much better."

"Told you that you were picky."

"I am not!"

"Care for a chocolate?"

"Stop switching the subject! Though yes, I would. Any good ones over there?"

"How about a dark chocolate nut cluster?"

"Oh, I knew I married you for a good reason."

"Because I'm a wonderful and adoring husband?"

"Because you introduced me to the finest chocolates ever created."

"And you didn't believe me all those years ago."

"Oh, come here and stop your whining. It's been a long day of decorating."

…

"The house looks amazing, darling."

"Thank you. It sure does look a lot better during Christmas time, doesn't it? It always seems rather… plain after we take everything down."

"It does, it does. But we still have another week until Christmas and another week before the de-decorating."

"De-decorating?"

"Do not mock, Pad."

"Ugh. You know I hate that name."

"You know that's why I use it."

"You know I can remove myself from your lap."

"You know you're enjoying this too much to do so."

"Humph. You know that you're annoying me."

"In the contract, dear. In the contract."

…

"I love the way the tinsel shines in the light of the fire."

"Glad that you finally gave in, then?"

"Who would've guessed that I would actually grow fond of one of your family traditions?"

"That would be me. Because I'm a genius."

"Watch it, Mr. Genius."

"Or what, Mrs. Genius?"

…

"Did I tell you?"

"Hmm?"

"I was reading about tinsel the other day, trying to determine whether the Muggle or Wizard brands were superior—"

"That's my Padma—"

"And there's a legend behind that particular decoration."

"Aren't there legends behind many items of holiday décor?"

"Well, of course, but this was one that I found most interesting."

"All right then. Do tell."

"All right. According to legend, the trees in the forest would be covered with tinsel on Christmas morning, the webs of spiders having turned to silver during the night."

"Pure threads of silver?"

"Mhmm."

"We sure got cheated with this plastic stringy crap."

"Anthony!"

"Hey! No slapping! No—Ow! Stop slapping me!"

"You big baby. I only lightly slapped your arm twice. It wouldn't have hurt my sister, so it couldn't have hurt you."

"Yeah, well, Parvati must have thick skin then."

"Or you're just a softy."

"Perhaps. Too much time spent reading."

"Simply not possible."

…

"Padma?"

"Yes, Anthony?"

"The tinsel really does shine like silver in the firelight."

"That it does."

"Merry Christmas, dear."

"Not quite yet, Mr. Genius."