Of Being Perfectly Imperfect – Randy

Randall Weasley sat patiently in the same spot he always sat on Christmas, right in front of the tree, acting as a Gift Guardian of sorts. It was a family joke every year. Randy was probably the most enthusiastic gift giver of all the Weasleys, and he had adopted the duty of making sure no one snooped where they weren't supposed to be snooping. He did not care that his brother and sister had redeemed themselves to each other, he did not care that his baby sister had inherited an important family heirloom, and he did not care that his parents had yet to fulfill their duties as husband and wife; the only thing he was worried about were those presents.

"What are you two doing?" he immediately demanded of Rebecca and Emily, when he noticed they were snooping around the tree.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We're just looking, Mister Gift Guardian."

"Yeah," Emily piped up, "we were just checking to see if any of Uncle Fred or Uncle George's presents were ticking."

"Right." Randy eyed the girls warily. "Weren't you two here earlier?"

"Merlin, Randy," said Rebecca as she examined a gift bag with a pretty little bow. "Relax. We're not here to take your job, are we Mily?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope."

"Why do you call her Mily?" Randy asked his twin. "It sounds like a cow's name."

"Why do you have a girlfriend?" Rebecca shot back, eyebrows raised.

The tips of Randy's ears turned deep red, and he suddenly became wholly interested in his pants. Rebecca just smirked. "I don't have a girlfriend," he mumbled, as Rebecca set the gift bag down on the floor.

"Then what do you define Annie Carsile as being?" Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her brother accusingly. "Just a pretty girl you flirt with? A plaything?"

"No! It's not like that, Bec—"

"She really likes you, you know."

"We're just friends—wait—what?" Randy stared at his twin, bemused. Had he heard her correctly? Did Annie Carsile…fancy…him? Simple redheaded, gangly Randy Weasley? "What?"

Rebecca frowned at him. Emily just shook her head. "She fancies you, Randy."

"But, but," he spluttered, "why?"

Rebecca shrugged. "D'you think I know that? It's beyond me why she would find you worthy of her. You're as dense as milk."

"I am not," said Randy defiantly. "Who helps you whenever you have trouble in Charms?"

"I don't have trouble in Charms, Randy."

"Potions?"

"Guess again."

"Transfiguration?"

"No."

"Herbology?"

"No way."

"Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Nope."

"Ancient Runes?"

"Ha! That's laughable."

"Arithmancy?"

Rebecca was quiet. Randy laughed and punched the air triumphantly with his fist. Rebecca cursed under her breath.

"It doesn't matter," said Rebecca briskly. "That's beyond the point, Randall."

Randy grinned. "Okay, my dear twin, what is the point?"

Rebecca looked down at Emily, as if she held the answer. "Mily, what is the point?"

"Randy is in love with Annie and Annie is in love with Randy," Emily recited as she twiddled around with the gifts, much to Randy's annoyance. "Hey Randy, if you and Annie get married are you gonna name your kids Rannie?"

"Ha, ha," said Randy dryly, rolling his eyes. "Emily, will you please stop touching the gifts? It's making me nervous…"

"But look, Randy, it's for me!" Emily showed her brother a haphazardly wrapped package with a tag attached to it that read: To: Emily, From: Mum and Dad, with love. "I've a reason to look at it, don't I?"

"No." Randy shook his head. "If it's for you, you shouldn't be look at it, Emily."

"Rebecca!" Emily whirled around to face her sister. "Please tell your twin to mind his own business."

"This is my business!" shouted Randy. "I'm the bloody Gift Guardian, Emily!"

Emily looked at her brother over her right shoulder, and then broke out into a fit of giggles. "Ha, ha, ha—Randy, you should have seen your face! You went so red! Beccy, did you see that?"

Rebecca grinned and brought a hand up to her mouth, as if she were forcing herself not to laugh. Randy let out an irritated sigh. "Don't you two have anything better to do that annoy me?"

Emily shook her head as she wiped away a tear. "Not really. I love to get you all riled up."

"Why?"

"It tickles me."

"Yeah, I see that," snapped Randy, and he sat down in the nearest chair, ignoring his sisters.

"C'mon, Mily, stop now," said Rebecca, plopping down on the floor next to her sister. "Remember what we came over here to do?"

Emily nodded and put on a very serious face before facing her brother again. "Randy, Rebecca wants you to…er…" She looked at Rebecca. "What d'you want him to do, again?"

Rebecca sighed and shook her head. "Never mind, Mily." She patted her younger sister's hands. "Never mind. I'll do it."

"All right."

"Randy, my mission here was to get you to stop being so scared and, you know, make your move."

"On Annie?" Randy questioned, raising his eyebrows. Rebecca nodded. "Beccy, why are you doing this to me?" he asked, his voice miserable. "Annie is not interested in me. If she was, I'd know."

"I don't think so, mate," came his father's voice as Ron approached his three children. Rebecca grinned at him.

"Dad?" Randy looked from Ron to Rebecca to Emily and shook his head very fast. "No way. You two got Dad to give me advice? On girls?"

"Don't look so shocked," said Ron in mock hurt. "I like to think I'm quite experienced in the line of chivalrous acts."

Randy frowned. "That's not what Mum said," he mumbled, but Ron heard him anyway.

"What did your mother say?" he asked expectantly.

"She—she said it took you over ten years to finally ask her out," said Randy, rather nervously.

Ron gave him an appraising look, and then nodded. "That's true. But I always knew how I felt about her."

"Why didn't you do anything?" Rebecca asked in interest.

"I was afraid of rejection, just like your brother," Ron answered, looking at his daughter. Randy flushed and started to fidget in his seat. "Your mum was very intimidating when she was your age."

"Mum is still very intimidating," said Randy, more to himself than to anyone else, but Ron heard him anyway and nodded with a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

"That is very true, Randy," said Ron, "but this isn't about your mother. This is about…"

"Annie," Rebecca finished for her father.

"Annie," said Ron, nodding a thank you to Rebecca. She grinned. "You've got to have confidence, Randy. Confidence is key. Girls like confidence. Isn't that right, Beccy?"

"Huh? Oh—" She put down the gift she was previously shaking and nodded, "—yeah. Confidence is good. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. Extravagant. Fabulous. Super—"

"Thank you, Rebecca," her father cut in, sending her a pointed look. He glanced at Randy. "You see?"

"Yeah…er…so…confidence is…good?" Randy struggled, wringing his hands. "But how do I—you know—develop…confidence?"

Ron blinked. "Well…" he trailed off and looked at his daughters for some words of wisdom, but they both shrugged. "Well, I reckon," he started shakily before clearing his throat, "you could…start by saying what you like about yourself."

"That's good, Dad," said Rebecca.

"I, er," Randy stuttered, rubbing his temples, "like my…watch!" He triumphantly thrust out his arm to show them his watch. "Yeah…my watch… It's wicked, Dad. Thanks."

"Anytime." Ron looked at his daughters pleadingly. "Rebecca, what do you like about your brother?"

Rebecca raised her eyebrows in confusion, but they quickly went down after a sharp look from her father. "Oh," she said, quickly recovering. "I like how helpful Randy is. Yeah. Helpful."

"There you go, Randy!" said Ron with a grin. "You're helpful."

Randy raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "Right…"

"I like your hair," Emily piped up, staring at one of her gifts. "It's not as perfect as Alex's and it's just…different."

"Okay," Randy drew out. "So I'm helpful and my hair isn't perfect?"

Emily shook her head, and then looked up at Randy, impatient. "It's not perfect in a good way. Just like you. You're perfectly imperfect."

Randy stared at her. Perfectly imperfect. It definitely had some type of connotation, he just wasn't sure if it was negative or positive, but for some odd reason he suddenly didn't care. Perfectly imperfect. If you thought about it long enough, that's exactly how Randy would describe himself. He wasn't particularly handsome, but he had certain unique features that stood out, such as his hair. He wasn't the life of the party, but he didn't poop it, either. He could carry a joke fairly well (much better than Rebecca), and he tried hard to make others feel comfortable, even if sometimes his attempts were rather futile. (For example, when he volunteered to give some First Years a tour of Hogwarts and they ended up getting locked in a closet by Peeves.)

Randall Weasley was perfectly imperfect. And he felt perfectly good about it.

Dinner was served not long after Randy's discovery, and he sat down at the table with Rebecca on his right, Emily on his left, and his parents and Alex across from him. The table was set outside, and Grandmum had charmed assorted red and green lights to hover about them as they ate.

The Christmas feast was excellent. Randy, along with every other Weasley there, stuffed himself mad with everything from chicken to mince pies, and by the end of the meal, his pants were cutting off his circulation so bad his feet were turning blue.

After spending so long outside (and after getting tired of casting so many heating spells), the food eventually vanished, as did the tables and chairs, and everyone retired inside to open their gifts. Randy walked up to his neat pile and grinned before plopping down in front of it. Coincidentally, his spot was right near the tree.

He had got a book on how Defense Against the Dark Arts compares to Quidditch from Rebecca. ("Er…thanks. I'll read it once I get back!") Ron and Hermione had given him a brand new broom, and he excitedly gave each of his parents a huge hug and kiss for their splendid gift. Emily had made an exuberant Christmas card for him that had Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans hidden inside, and Alex had given him a photo of himself, which Randy looked at with suppressed disdain.

"It's a joke, Randy!" Alex explained, laughing. "If you tap it three times with your index finger, you'll get the real gift."

As it turns out, Alex had really given him a thin book entitled How To Have The Emotional Range of a Bowl of Soup: Ten Easy Steps to Get Her to Fall in Love with You by Alex Weasley.

Randy blushed and smiled at him thankfully.

From his other relatives, he had received assorted Quidditch accessories, needed school supplies, and even a few extra Galleons to use while in Hogsmeade.

"Well…I had an excellent Christmas," Emily told Randy, as he proceeded to clean up the mess of paper surrounding him.

"Did you really?" asked Randy, grinning at her. "Did you get everything you wished for?"

"Yes I did," said Emily matter-of-factly. "Mum started crying 'cause this is the last Christmas before I go to Hogwarts."

"She did that before I went to Hogwarts," said Randy. "I guess she's emotional. Since, you know, you're the last of us to go."

"I s'pose," she said with a sigh. "I'm growing up, Randy."

"Yes you are."

"Randy?"

"Hmm?"

Emily smiled. "Happy Christmas."

Randy grinned. "Happy Christmas, Em," he said before wrapping his sister in a hug and placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Emily!" Hermione called, looking at her daughter.

"Yes, Mum?"

"Everyone is done!"

"Oh, right." Emily stood up and cleared her throat. "Merlin charm us, everyone!"

-Finis

A/N: Well, that's the end. I wish everyone Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Yule, Happy New Year…Happy Holidays! Thank you so much for reading and thanks for all the reviews I've received. Emily's last line was inspired by Tiny Tim's "God bless us, everyone!" in A Christmas Carol, but I changed it a little for the magical world. Thanks again, and Happy Holidays!