I have no idea how Molly Weasley manages it. I'd woken up early in the morning in order to prepare breakfast early, looking longingly at my presents. I'll be quick, it would be rude not to open them after all. I sought out my traditional Weasley jumper, a darker blue than usual with a criss-cross pattern. It was warm and snug, and just like I'd requested, there were matching gloves, hat and scarf with it, all carefully knitted by hand. There was also a broad selection of fudge and mince pies, gingerbread biscuits decorated with icing and delicate sweets so I nibbled on one before opening the rest.
Dad and Uncle Remus had got me a new plant to put in my room. It looked like a miniature blossom tree, though the flowers glowed and released a soft, fragrant scent. I promptly placed it on my writing desk, admiring it for a few moments before turning to the rest, unwrapping them all one by one, memorising who they were from before stacking them all neatly. I searched for one more, having got my hopes up a little but found only a small package with my step-dad's handwriting on it, a letter attached to the back.
When I opened it and read, I couldn't help but feel dispirited. It was from Leo, but only Leo. He wished me a Merry Christmas, asked how my studies were going and that he was sad we weren't together at this special time of year but hoped that wherever I was, I was surrounded by friends and family. The gift was a photo in a frame that I remembered clearly used to sit on the landing upstairs outside my room. It was the three of us together, I was eleven years old and beaming proudly on the station platform ready to go to Hogwarts for my first year. My parents were behind me, smiling proudly as I waved eagerly, then in the next moment both of them had grabbed me to smother me in kisses.
The scene continued on repeat, and before I knew it, a tear had dripped onto the glass. Sniffling quietly I quickly rubbed it away, using my sleeve to soak it up and held the photo a little closer, looking at my mother. She hadn't looked like that the last time I'd seen her. Her face had been furious and in denial, it had looked like it never wanted to see me again. I missed her, but I refused to show weakness and reached out first. She had to apologise first and make peace with the fact that I loved my dad, both my dads, and if she didn't like it, she could lump it.
Shaking my head, I dried my eyes and told myself not to be ridiculous and pulled myself together. Bringing the picture over where I kept all my other photographs of moving people, smiling and waving at me, I placed it upon my desk on the left hand side, perfectly eye level when I sat down so that I could look at it each time I glanced up. Then, with a surge of determination, I got myself dressed, pulled on my Weasley jumper and headed downstairs before anyone else had so much as stirred in the entire house.
They awoke to the smell of pancakes and bacon, eggs sizzling as I set up the kitchen table with muffins, toast, coffee, tea, pumpkin juice, fruit and everything else I could think of. Molly was the next to come down, smiling at me warmly. "Morning dear, shall I help?"
"Not at all Mrs Weasley, you sit down and make yourself comfortable. You're having a day off today, no cooking or cleaning whatsoever." She chuckled and instead, let me wait on her every need so I brought her over some pancakes and freshly squeezed lemon juice, then poured her some tea as others began to come down, drawn in by the smell. "Merry Christmas! Thanks for my tree dad, I love it." I bounded over to him brightly, holding a teapot in one hand and a plate of biscuits in the other as I carefully hugged him.
"And Merry Christmas to you, Mia. Need a hand?" Assuring him I had everything under control, we soon had a kitchen full of people wanting breakfast. There was a colourful array of jumpers joining the table, everything bubbling happy as they helped themselves to whatever they wanted and I made sure that everyone had everything they wanted. The moment breakfast was cleared away I then began on the dinner, waving my wand to have the potatoes peel themselves, vegetables dicing, meats flying out of the pantry and the ovens firing up in order to prepare cooking. Whilst everything was underway, I rushed up to the dining room in order to prepare the table as well, Ginny and Hermione coming to help.
We spread a clean white cloth over the long dining table to cover up the stains and burns in the wood, the crisp material making it look very neat and tidy as I fired up the hearth once more with a roaring fire to start heating up the room to the perfect temperature, pale light spilling in from the wide windows which hit the crystal chandelier and caused rainbows to dance on every surface. We set up plates and the silverware carefully, arranging the table so that the candlesticks and table decorations looked like a high class banqueting table.
Keeping spaces free for the food to go out, I then darted back into the kitchen where I found the twins poking around in the soup pot. "Out! Out of here you devils! What did you do to it? Accio!" Instantly something flew out of Fred's hand and I found a dungbomb they'd planned on dropping in. "You fiends! Out of my kitchen! If I catch you in here again I'm going to turn you into lobsters and boil you alive!" Grabbing the soup ladle, I brandished it at them both as they looked at me with genuine fear and alarm as I chased them around the table and out of the kitchen down the hall.
"It's usually mum yelling at us, I don't like this George!"
"Me neither Fred, mum's turned her into a carbon copy!" Catching up with them just as they dove into the front room, I smacked them both on the heads as they tripped on the frayed carpet and went sprawling.
"That'll teach you to mess with my soup." Nodding my head indignantly, I then turned around on my heel as everyone else had stared, being gathered together in the front room before Molly then burst out laughing, clapping her hands.
"Oh it is lovely to relax and enjoy oneself." The twins were not happy about her glee, but wisely stayed out of my kitchen from then on. I tested the soup to see if it tasted funny but it was fine, so I checked everything else to make sure nothing had been tampered with before then continuing with the meal. I had beef, lamb, goose and turkey, gammon and duck, every meat you could think of. Great fat sausages sizzling, potatoes and parsnips roasting, carrots, broccoli and all kinds of vegetables steaming, sprouts roasting with bacon and chopped chestnuts, mashed potato as thick and creamy as I could make it, gravy bubbling away with meat juices for extra flavour, stuffing and Yorkshire puddings, cranberry sauce, apple sauce, mint sauce, absolutely everything that I could possibly think of to eat on Christmas Day, and that was just the main course.
For dessert I had Christmas pudding, trifles, cakes between three and six layers high, jellies in the shape of castles, entire bowls as big as Hagrid's teacups filled with ice cream, Yule logs, custard and tarts, pies and strudels, thick cream and biscuits, the gingerbread palace Ginny and Molly had made with me, crystal bowls filled with sweets of every colour and type imaginable as I baked, chilled, iced and decorated furiously all morning. I was glad that I had done most of the preparation last night as most of it needed only finishing touches. A sprig of holly there, a dash of powdered sugar there, making everything look perfect and presentable.
Once everything was finished cooking, timed to complete at roughly the same time, I had everything jump into dishes and into plates, gravy pouring into a polished silver gravy boat, then directed everything onto the dining table as I also lit the candles so that they each flickered with a tiny flame. It all looked rather magnificent, if I did say so myself, and when I yelled for everyone to come eat, they eagerly rushed to come and take a look. Ron's jaw dropped but he didn't stop and stare. He rushed into a seat and eagerly picked up his knife and fork, ready to fill his plate with everything his eyes could set sight on.
Molly made him wait, however, insisting that we take a photo as she carried her camera in from the front room and waved her wand, making everyone sit down and look tidy for it as the camera hovered in the air. Tonks tripped as she made to sit down beside Uncle Remus, apologising quickly and making sure she hadn't knocked anything over and once we were all sat down, Molly raised the camera so that it would fit everyone in as dad and I stood at the far end, his arm around me and beaming happily as the camera flashed. Once that was done, we all tucked in. Those of us who were allowed to do magic helped to move food onto everyone else's plate, though I forbade Fred and George from trying as I saw them reach for their wands.
"What?! We wouldn't sabotage a perfectly good meal such as this Mia. What do you think we are, animals?" George reasoned but I just glared at them then pointedly filled their bowls with soup. He didn't argue further. Waving my wand again, the knife to the turkey rose and began to cut slices off as people called what they wanted and the food flew straight to them, something that Ron thought was brilliant.
"You really have outdone yourself dear, you must be exhausted." Molly said to me as she patted my arm lightly, the two of us sitting next to one another and having just pulled a Christmas cracker each and were wearing our hats. Mine was a fedora this year whilst hers had popped out a witch's hat that had a small, lifelike owl that hooted intermittently. "It's a shame Arthur couldn't be here, but I daresay there'll be plenty left over, would it be alright if we kept some aside for him?"
"Of course Mrs Weasley, help yourself to anything you want." I invited cheerfully, raising my glass to her and she smiled. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed their main course and we waited a full half an hour before starting on dessert and just as the last pudding had made its way onto the table, Mundugus Fletcher appeared and accepted an invitation to join us. By the time we were all done, everyone was full to the brim and several of the boys had unbuttoned their jeans just to feel comfortable, slouching to digest properly.
Getting up, I started to raise my wand in order to clear up, but dad told me to rest for a while and that he'd handle everything. So he moved everything back into the kitchen where I wandered in a while later with Remus to start sealing up the food, putting it away to chill and keep fresh so we could have cold meats, cheese, crackers, crumpets and mince pies for tea later. Then all who were going to visit Arthur promptly went, and when we arrived he greeted me brightly, letting me lean over to kiss his cheek and place a large plate with a selection of puddings from our dinner on his tray as he'd finished with his Christmas dinner, a pile of presents also joining him. He opened Harry's first, but Mrs Weasley had become suspicious of how twitchy he was acting, and it turned out that he had attempted to sew his wounds shut with a muggle healing method called stitches. The rest of us promptly left, though I went over to join Uncle Remus to talk to a werewolf who was also in the same ward looing rather lonely and gave him a package of colourfully wrapped ginger biscuits to cheer him up.
Eventually Mrs Weasley calmed down, deciding that today was not the day to be angry with Arthur, though she continually gave him sharp glares and muttered to herself. I was glad to see Arthur doing so well, it made it a little easier to leave knowing that he was recovering well. The day ended calmly and quietly, everyone full and probably a few pounds heavier than how they started, with games in the drawing room where the fire crackled until it was time for bed, and I, more exhausted than ever before, vowed not to host Christmas again for at least another ten years.