Author's Note: Christmas is almost here, and that means that this collection is almost complete. Thank you to everybody who has been reading, reviewing, following, favoriting. If you need some more Christmas cheer, check out Ladyoftheknightley's A Christmas Gift For You. I've been really enjoying it. Also, i just watched The Family Stone again. I need a hanky, but I love that movie!

Lucy: Dance Around the Christmas Tree

December 2028

Lucy Weasley didn't particularly like parties, or crowds, or even cafés during the lunch rush. She was what one would call an introvert. She loved books and quiet and small gatherings. The loudest thing about her was her affinity for floral patterns. Oh, and her family. Lucy reckoned that she should also include her best mate and her family on that list, as well.

As these things go, Lucy was blessed to be born into the large and boisterous Weasley family. Although, for somebody like her, it was a bit of a mixed blessing. She loved her family dearly, but too many for too long made Lucy want to hide. Something she was particularly good at doing actually. There were more nooks and crannies in the Burrow than even Granny knew about, but Lucy fit into each of them. After a few hours with her cousins, Lucy needed to recharge before she could rejoin the crowd.

It was much the same at Hogwarts, where she found refuge in the library. Even during exams, when every student was frantically revising, the library was at least quiet. Lucy still found calm in the quiet of a library. Namely the Dublin Wizard's Research and Lending Library, where Lucy had worked since leaving school.

This night, however, she wasn't in her small Dublin flat, she was in London, wearing a new party frock and red lipstick. It was the annual British and Irish League Holiday Gala at the Merlin Hotel, which was hidden amongst Muggle shops on Regent Street. Lucy had been to the party every year for the last four as the plus one of Belle Wood.

Oh, if Lucy had been blessed with the Weasley family, she had also been born with a best mate. Lucy was just three and a half months older than Belle, and therefore there was not a moment in her life that Lucy could remember not knowing the other girl. Their fathers were friends, and so it was quite natural that the two girls would be friends as well. Lucy and Belle had grown up in and out of one another's homes. Lucy looked at Oliver and Katie Wood as just another aunt and uncle, and Belle's older brothers were like cousins. But if the Weasleys were boisterous, then the Woods were obsessed rather famously with Quidditch. Two of the tree Wood offspring played professionally, which was why Belle begged Lucy to accompany her to these functions every year.

To put it simply, Belle did not find bringing an actual date to the gala a prudent move. With her father and at least one of her brothers in attendance every year, prospective dates were usually run off pretty quickly. Therefore, Lucy found herself sitting on a table, hidden behind a row of cloaks in the coatroom of the Merlin Hotel, reading Little Women by the light of her wand.

Lucy had already weathered the storm of photographers on her way into the gala. She'd sat through opening remarks, danced with Rory Wood who stepped on her toes, and drank three glasses of champagne. There was still a long night of dancing and mingling to endure unless Belle decided to beg off early, but that wasn't likely. Belle and her team, were the previous year's champions, and the toast of the town. For now, however, Lucy's head hurt and she needed a quiet place where she could breath.

Thus, the coatroom. Belle would understand.

oOo

Travis Yarbough, American import for Puddlemere United, was not the Gala type. Maybe it was his Yankee roots, but suits and ties only served to make him feel as though he was being strangled slowly. Coach had told him two hours and all the free booze he could hope for, then he could leave this blasted party. Well, he'd done his time and now he was free. Yanking the tie around his neck loose, and undoing the top button, he pushed his way into the coatroom.

There had been a coat check girl when he first came in, but she seemed to have disappeared. Considering the number of drunk athletes present, and the girl's rather impressive front, it wasn't too hard to imagine how she was spending her break. Now, where was his coat stored? He had half a mind to leave it, but he'd stuffed the name of the pub where he was meeting his friends in the pocket.

Coming around the second row of cloaks, Travis stumbled to a halt. Sticking out from under yards of wool were two finely shaped calves. A black pump was dangling from one small foot, the other bare but for red nail polish. Pale, delicately freckled skin stretched up to a pair of pink knees that Travis inexplicably wanted to press his lips against.

Slowly, Travis approached the legs. He wanted to see the face attached to those pink knees, but at the same time he didn't. As long as those cloaks obscured his view, she was the most beautiful girl in the world with clear skin and loads of hair and a nice rack. What happened if he pushed back those cloaks? She could be a hag. He would have to kiss goodbye all the fantasies he was concocting about pushing her green and pink flowered skit up to discover if her thighs were as equally as creamy as her calves.

Well, Coach Wood didn't call Travis a reckless idiot for nothing. Travis pulled out his wand, directed it at the row of cloaks, and held his breath as they slid apart. He should have known.

Those were the words that ran through Travis' mind when he saw the woman's red hair. He should have known she'd be a redhead, with all those freckles and pale skin. If he had a type, she wasn't it, but that wasn't to say that Travis was disappointed. This woman had what his old nana would have called an elfin face, with large blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a red mouth. Though, he supposed that her mouth owed its color to lipstick. A thought which made Travis want to wipe it off with his thumb. Or his own mouth.

She had a book open in her lap, her small hand curled around an elegant wand. Color blossomed over the skin of her chest and graceful neck into her pretty face. It made Travis think about her thighs again, wondering what color they were right now. The same milky white as her arms, or that delicious pink on her slight chest?

"Hi," he said.

"You're American," she blurted out.

Travis smiled. "Why do I think you'd say "you're a murderer" in the same tone?"

"No! That's not…I'm reading an American book, see?" She held up the burgundy book emblazoned with hot pink scissors and the words Little Women across the top.

"Are you No Maj-born? Travis asked. He was No Maj-born, and it was his experience that magic-born witches and wizards had little use for No-Maj literature. In fact, most No Maj-born kids turned their backs on the things they grew up with. Hadn't he? He'd been quick to give up football in favor of Quodpot, only to ditch that for Quidditch.

"No-Maj?" she echoed, her brow furrowed. "Oh, you mean Muggle? No, I'm a pureblood."

"Is it normal for pureblood witches to read No, er, Muggle books?"

"It was in my home." She set her wand down and extended her hand. "I'm Lucy."

Travis enveloped her small hand into his own large paw. "Nice to meet you, Lucy."

"In England, the polite thing to do is introduce yourself once the other person has."

Travis hadn't expected little Lucy to challenge him, but her chin had raised just a fraction, which made him grin. He'd been imagining her as a frightened mouse, but she had a bit of fire to match that red hair. Intriguing.

"It generally works the same way in America, too," he replied.

She cocked her head expectantly. Damn, that was the perfect angle to kiss her.

oOo

Once, when she was a girl, her parents took Lucy and her sister to a Muggle zoo. While she was there, Lucy saw a brown bear that stood on its powerful hind legs, showing off a tuft of white fur on its barrel chest. This man reminded Lucy of that bear. His hair was a rather non-descript brown that swept away from his forehead in a manner that might have been dashing on another man, but was roguish on him. He wore a full beard that nearly obscured the top of his shirt. Whenever he smiled, it was just a flash of teeth and plump lower lip. He had the same barreled chest as that bear, and his hands were wide and calloused.

He wasn't excessively tall like many of the men of Lucy's acquaintance, but he was terribly rude. It was his American-ness, Lucy thought. She'd never really known any American wizards, but she wasn't going to dwell on that for the moment.

Stooping down, he picked up her lost shoe. "You must not follow Quidditch much."

"Is that your way of saying that you are very famous and I should know your name?"

"Something like that."

He smiled again. He had a nice smile.

"In case it's slipped your noticed, I'm attending a Quidditch gala," Lucy said. "I think it's safe to conclude that I follow Quidditch. What does that say about your fame?"

One bear paw clutched his chest. "You wound me."

"If this is flirting, I've seen better."

"I bet you have."

"No, that's not—I didn't mean—Oh!"

She'd only meant that she was related to any number of charmers. Her cousin, Freddie, for instance. Or even James. Not that she was the object of flirtation. Because she wasn't. Usually. Most of the time she was invisible, or simply not there. One had to actually leave her flat to be flirted with, after all.

"Are you trying to say you don't have guys beating down your door?" he asked. He had brown eyes, very, very dark brown eyes.

Lucy shook her head, then extended her hand. "May I have my shoe please?"

"Will your date be wondering where you are?"

"Most likely. Although, I'm not Belle's date, I'm just here as a favor to a friend."

"Really?" He moved closer to her just a fraction, but it felt as though he'd taken up the entire room. "But then why are you in the coatroom and not with this Belle?"

"I-I just needed to be alone for a moment."

He nodded. "It's Travis, by the way."

"Pardon me?"

"My name. Travis."

"Oh."

"Here's your shoe, Cinderella. Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

"What?" Lucy honestly had no idea what he, what Travis was talking about.

He grinned at her. "You don't know your Muggle fairy tales. Shame, shame. Save me your midnight dance and I'll tell you all about it."

"What if I'm not here at midnight?" Lucy asked. She had been hoping to persuade Belle to leave in the next hour or so.

Travis winked at her. "Just save me that dance."

oOo

So much for his plans for the night. Travis found himself looking down into the ballroom of the blasted hotel instead of sneaking out for drinks with some old buddies visiting from the States. He supposed the hotel was decked out in Christmas splendor. There really wasn't any other way of putting it when everything from the twelve-foot tree to the wall sconces glowed a warm green and gold.

Searching the space for a distinctive shade of red, Travis cursed the number of Scots and Irishmen in the place. There weren't this many redheads in all of America, he was sure of it. But then he caught sight of her green dress.

Lucy Goosey. Damn, he bet she would hate that nickname.

Travis' eyes followed her as she crossed the dance floor and took a seat next to a blonde woman that Travis recognized instantly. In two years with the British and Irish League, he'd certainly played against her often enough. Belle Wood, celebrated Chaser of the Appleby Arrows, and daughter of Travis' defense specialist, Coach Oliver Wood. Who happened to be sitting on Lucy's other side, and speaking to the redhead like she was another daughter. In the pit of his stomach, Travis just knew that this spelled trouble. The only thing that could be worse was a large and overprotective family.

oOo

For what felt like the one-hundredth time, Lucy checked the watch in her little clutch bag. It read 11:57, just two minutes later than the last time she had checked. Travis had said he would claim her midnight dance. Had he meant exactly midnight? And where had he been all night. Despite escaping to a broom cupboard for some peace and quiet about an hour ago, Lucy had kept watch for her bear-man, but hadn't caught sight of him. A part of her was afraid that he was just trying to make a fool of her and had no intention of claiming that dance. But why would he do that?

For the same reason James had dipped her hair in ink during second year, because he could.

Sipping her champagne, Lucy looked around. All of her tablemates had abandoned her. Rory and his date had skivved off around 10:30. Uncle Oliver and Aunt Katie were dancing, which consisted more of staring longingly at one another while they swayed back and forth. The rest of the Arrows had collected Belle not long ago for a team toast. Belle had invited Lucy along, but she'd declined. No doubt Belle assumed Lucy just wanted to be alone, but really she was waiting for her midnight dance.

"So, you don't turn into a pumpkin at midnight after all?"

Lucy looked up to see Travis grinning down at her. He'd lost his suit jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. Excitement buzzed inside of Lucy, making her feel reckless.

"You thought I would stand you up," Travis accused, his eyebrow quirked challengingly.

"The thought crossed my mind," Lucy admitted. She was smiling, and it was much too big and unguarded.

"Have faith, Lucy Goosey. Come dance with me."

He extended his hand. Lucy stared at it a moment, telling herself not to appear too keen. What must he think of her? Surely one look told him that Lucy was nothing but a poor wallflower. Perhaps this was just some sort of good deed. An act of Christmas charity. Making the invisible girl feel desired. None of that stopped Lucy from placing her hand in his, or from her heart soaring when he pulled her onto the dance floor.

This wasn't dancing. Lucy knew how to do a proper waltz and foxtrot, this was neither. This was being held against Travis's broad chest while they swayed back and forth. Goodness, he smelled like pine and leather and Firewhisky.

"What are you doing after this?" Travis asked.

"G-going home," Lucy said. Oh no, she didn't just—that didn't sound like an invitation, did it? "Alone."

"And what about Christmas?"

"I'll be with my family, I reckon."

Travis nodded. "And what about the rest of the Christmases for the rest of your life?"

"Family again. Where else would I be?"

"I've a few ideas." He bent his head nearer hers.

Lucy caught her breath, then blurted, "You were going to tell me about Cinderella."

Travis chuckled. She could feel it rumbling through his chest against her breasts. It was a nice, whisky chuckle that made Lucy's cheeks turn red. For one moment, she reconsidered her declaration that she was returning to her flat alone, but shook that thought out of her head. She hardly knew this man!

Still, Lucy couldn't help but think that this had been the best Christmas party she'd ever been to. Especially when one broad hand slid down to rest in the small of her back. Goodness!