"My dear cousin is coming tonight to celebrate Christmas with us!" Sirius said happily as he dipped his finger into the bowl of cream Harry was making for the Pavlova for dessert after the Christmas dinner they were having later that day.

"Padfoot! Keep your fingers away or I'll have to put on a charm to prevent you from touching!" Harry exclaimed.

Sirius merely sent him a raised brow as Mr. Weasley laughed from the end of the table. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, you said your cousin would come for Christmas. Well, I don't know which cousin you are speaking about, but I certainly don't hope it's Bellatrix," Harry replied.

"No! Why would I invite her? No, you'll see when she arrives in a couple of hours," Sirius said.

"Molly is hoping she would fall in love with Bill. She thinks it's about time he gets married and settles down," Mr. Weasley commented.

"As if. Tonks only sees Moony," Sirius said.

"And does he see her?" Mr. Weasley challenged.

"No, don't think so. Harry, you don't know how to conjure a mistletoe, do you?" Sirius asked mischievously.

Harry glanced at him with a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Sirius inquired. "Do you or do you not?"

"I don't want to be the one to be the target of Moony's anger if he finds out," Harry said. "Are Bill and Charlie coming too, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, they both got a few days off from work, so they'll be here shortly."

Tonks was the first to arrive; a pink-haired witch who stumbled out of the fireplace and would have landed on the floor hadn't Remus caught her.

"Thanks, Remus," she said, blushing slightly.

Sirius sniggered from the doorway and received an annoyed glare from Remus.

Harry glanced up from the game of exploding snap he was playing with Ginny, the twins and Ron. Hermione was watching, the book in her lap untouched.

"Hi, Tonks," the Weasleys greeted. They had obviously met her before.

"Votcher, guys," she replied with a kind smile.

"Tonks, meet my fantastic godson, Harry," Sirius said as proud as uncle Vernon was after a good Quidditch match.

"Harry! Nice to meet you at last. Sirius has told me so much about you," she said, holding out a hand. "So this is the famous Harry Potter, huh? I've heard about your matches. Quite a feat of a fourteen-year-old."

Harry stood politely and grabbed it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Tonks," he said, feeling his cheeks go red by her comments.

"Call me Tonks, will you? No need to be so formal!" she declared. "So how is my lovely cousin?"

Harry was forced to return to the game when George was prodding him tirelessly. They were however interrupted not much later by the floo flaring up again, and a stocky man with powerful arms covered with burns stepped out, more controlled than Tonks.

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, and the man, Charlie, was quickly embraced by two redheads; Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

"It's so great to see you, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said and petted his cheek. "Are you okay? No more burns?"

"I'm okay, mum, only a small one on my stomach. Damn, that new Aussie Red can almost rival the Fireballs," he muttered.

"Let me see," Mrs. Weasley demanded and lifted his shirt while pushing away his hands which tried to keep it down.

"Mum, not in the middle of the living room!" he protested.

Mrs. Weasley ignored it and gasped as a nasty red burn came into view. "Oh Charlie! Does it hurt very much?"

Charlie shook his head. "Not much now," he said and pulled down his shirt before surveying the people in the room. "Hey. Nice to see you all healthy and strong."

"Well, that's more than what we can say about you," Mrs. Weasley scolded. "How could you be so careless?"

"I wasn't careless! Have you ever heard of an Aussie Red? They're almost as ferocious as the Horntails! Besides, their burns heal incredibly slowly!" Charlie exclaimed and sat down in a couch beside Harry, whom he hadn't seemed to notice yet.

"Sirius, do you have any healing salve for burns?" Mrs. Weasley asked and glanced at him.

"No. Why would I have that? I usually don't have the need for it," Sirius replied.

"I have some," Remus said and got up.

Harry had been watching the conversation with interest. He was familiar with the Aussie Red as they had learned about it in Magical Creatures and Dylan talked about them all the time. Now he chose the moment to interrupt.

"A normal healing salve won't help on a burn from an Aussie Red," he said softly.

Remus paused and looked at him. "How do you know?"

Harry didn't manage to answer before Mrs. Weasley fired another question at him: "Then what helps?"

"Usually an extract of the flowers of Jeerigo bushes will do," Harry said.

"Jerri- what?" Mrs. Weasley asked, just as confused as the others in the room.

"Jeerigo bushes. They're native to the Australian outback, where also the Aussie Reds origin from," Harry explained. "If we are lucky I brought some here..."

He dashed upstairs to his room and rummaged in his trunk for the chest holding potions ingredients. There he found a jar holding the small, sunset orange flowers and went down to the kitchen where he heated water and placed five flowers into it. He was soon accompanied by curious eyes, especially Mrs. Weasley's.

Soon the water got a clear yellow colour, and Harry transferred the liquid and the flowers to a bowl and handed it to Mrs. Weasley, who handed it on to Charlie, who then again was about to drink it.

"No! Stop!" Harry exclaimed, and the next moment the bowl was floating in the air a foot above their heads. "Don't drink it! Never eat anything of a Jeerigo bush! It'll cause your respiratory system to collapse."

"Damn it, Harry, you could have said that a little earlier," Charlie complained.

"Well, I thought it was obvious," Harry muttered.

"Harry, we've never heard about a Jeerigo bush. How were we supposed to know?" Remus asked gently.

"Oh. Sorry. It's just a little weird... I mean, in Australia everyone knows the dangers of that plant, and no one questions it because it's so well-known and... I'm sorry," Harry bent his head in shame and stared at the floor.

"It's okay, Harry. No harm done," Charlie assured him. "I'm well aware of cultural changes myself. But then what are we supposed to do with it?"

"Clean the wound with it of course."

"Go and lay down on the couch, Charlie. I'll get a cloth and be with you in a moment," Mrs. Weasley said and disappeared out of the kitchen.

"Harry, it might be an idea to lower the bowl," Remus suggested carefully.

Harry looked up at the bowl which was still hovering above them. "Right. Sorry." He summoned the bowl until it was safely between his hands and then followed the others to the living room.

As soon as the extract touched the wound it started to heal, and within a few minutes the wound was gone and only a faint scar was left.

"Wow. That's strong stuff," Charlie muttered.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"How do we get those sorts of plants? They would be very useful in a dragon reserve."

"They only work on Aussie Red burns, no other. And we usually don't export plants and creatures native to Australia, so how you got that dragon is beyond me. Did someone sell it to you illegally?" Harry inquired.

Charlie looked at him with a startled expression. "Really? It's illegal? I don't know how it got there; I'm only taking care of it."

"Well, it shouldn't be there. It's way too cold. It can't survive in December in Romania," Harry told him.

Charlie frowned and then moved over to the fireplace. "I've got to floo the reserve," he said and threw a handful of floo powder into the crackling fire before following with his head and shoulders after calling the name of the reserve.

The living room then turned silent for a while, with only the charmed Santa's songs breaking the silence.

"How do you know all of this, Harry?" Ron asked cautiously.

"I've learned it. The trade is common knowledge for Australian wizards, and the survival skills of the Aussie Red is kind of obvious. Take Alice Springs for instance, in the middle of the Australian Outback. In December it would have a temperature of between twenty five to thirty degrees Celsius on average, and when being used to that it experiences a Romanian December with a temperature below zero," Harry explained, receiving nods from the others.

"You're into dragons?" Hermione asked.

"Not really, but Dylan, my dorm mate speaks about them all the time," Harry told her.

Soon enough Charlie pulled out of the fireplace and returned to the couch. "Thanks for telling, Harry. We only want the best for the dragons. Might be best to leave the Aussie Reds to the Australian breeders though."

"Yeah. That might be the best idea," Harry muttered.

Bill, a tall man with his long red hair in a ponytail and a fang earring, arrived a couple of hours later. By then Mrs. Weasley had began making dinner, and Harry, Hermione and the youngest Weasleys had been asked to help, which some did without problem and others did while grumbling in dismay.

The new arrivals stared with big eyes at Kreacher when he climbed into a chair beside Harry.

"Kreacher is not mad at Mister Harry Potter for destroying the Mistress' house. Kreacher likes the cake Mister Harry Potter has made, oh yes." The elf spoke so low that only those closest to him could make out the words. While his words were kind he threw the Weasleys cold looks, but no longer as nasty as they had been.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry muttered in reply.

That evening Harry realized that he had to share his room. He hoped he didn't have to share with Ron as he didn't trust him well enough to be comfortable to sleep around him. He discreetly mentioned this to Sirius when he got the chance. He simply asked Bill to share room with him instead.

When Harry woke the next morning snow was covering the window which showed the street outside. He glanced over to Bill's tall form which was almost completely hidden under the duvet before he dressed and silently left the room.

Downstairs he met an impatient Ron pacing in the living room in front of stacks of Christmas presents. Mrs. Weasley's stern look was the only thing that kept him from opening them.

Hermione was sitting in a chair with a book opened on her lap; Harry didn't bother to ask which book it was, and instead continued down towards the kitchen. Remus was sitting by the table, flicking through the Daily Prophet, and Tonks, who was on her way towards him with a can of coffee in her hand. Suddenly her foot collided with a chair and she lost her balance, causing her to fall forwards. Remus, acting with a surprising speed caught her before she hit the ground, but the coffee already covered the floor.

"Oh! Thank you, Remus," she said and supported herself on his shoulder as she regained her balance.

"You're welcome," he replied with a smile.

She met his gaze, and they held it for several seconds with a strange look each before Remus broke it. Harry looked from her to him in slight confusion before his mind caught up with him and he recalled what Sirius had said.

Tonks sighed. "Now I have to make a new can of coffee," she said and pulled out her wand, muttering a cleaning spell. It only took the worst, leaving an area still brown.

"Here, let me," Harry said and merely waved his hand. The floor was clean in a blink of an eye.

"Wow," she muttered.

"Indeed," Remus agreed and stood. "I'll go to the living room, make sure Sirius hasn't opened all his presents before we're gathered."

Harry chuckled as he watched the werewolf disappear up the stairs. A new sigh brought his attention back to Tonks again. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, it's just... I'm a clumsy person, almost failed stealth and tracking in my auror training because of it, but when he's around it gets even worse," she admitted in a depressed voice.

"Have you told him?" Harry asked as he opened the window for an own that had landed outside. It jumped in and stretched out its leg.

"Yes, but he claims he's too old, too poor and too dangerous," she replied as she started to make a new can of coffee.

"What do you think about that?"

"I don't care if he's not rich, or that he's a little older than me or that he's a werewolf!"

"Then tell him."

Harry untied the letter and the small package which accompanied it and checked the recipient. His name was written on the envelope, and Waratah's stamp was placed on the backside. Why would they send a letter to him already? The booklist wasn't supposed to arrive before mid-January. Curiously he opened the letter and pulled out the piece of parchment inside.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I wanted you to be the first to know, since you were the one who found the Dragontongue Fern, and you mentioned that you have a werewolf friend; the anti-werewolf potion is done. It was tested on Kevin Allen, and it went just as we had hoped. Mr. Allen was sick for two days, throwing up blood to get rid of the werewolf blood, and had fever, but nothing happened at full moon, not even the slightest hint of transformation, and we did a magical test to ensure the werewolf curse was gone, and it was.

I sent a bottle of the potion with this letter as I'm sure you'd ask for it anyway. It can be taken any day except for the day of the full moon, and everything has to be drunk.

Merry Christmas,

Potions master Robert Kensington.

A/N: If there's anything you're wondering about or just want to say, just PM me.