Author's Notes: Funny how I planned to finish Christmas in this story during Christmas break. And here we are, in February, and I'm still on Christmas Eve. Oh well. I dared to dream.

I'll be away for the next week or so (yay Reading Week!), so no updates for a bit. But keep those reviews coming, and that constructive criticism…you know I love it!

Welcome to the FU, Tyn of ffaddix!

Air of Mystery:

Hermione: (sings) I don't get no emotional satisfaction...

I almost died when I read that.


Sunday, 24 December


Christmas Eve!

4:15 p.m.

All right, so my Christmas spirit is back in full swing, despite our terrible shopping experience on Friday. It's hard to resist Sirius's infectious Christmas spirit. I woke up this morning to him singing "Deck The Halls" at the top of his lungs to drown out Mrs. Black's insults, and knew that Christmas Eve had truly come to Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

The place is hardly recognizable because it looks so lovely with all the magical snow and the great big Christmas tree and the holly and garland everywhere. Sirius even put Father Christmas hats on the house elf heads and bewitched them to sing Christmas carols. I highly disapproved of this, because it is disrespectful towards the poor dead elves (their heads are on display in the corridor, for pity's sake…and now he's sticking red hats on them and making them sing?), but all of this makes Sirius happy, so I didn't voice my opinion (I did, however, remove the Father Christmas hats when he wasn't looking).

We took a day off from cleaning and decorating today to just laze around playing chess (blergh, I lost to Ron six times) and Exploding Snap. The twins have invented Christmas crackers that insult you when you open them, which Ron and Harry got a kick out of, of course. While the boys took turns rolling around on the floor laughing at each other as the Christmas crackers insulted each of them in turn, Ginny and I amused ourselves by perusing a copy of Witch's Weekly from 1973 that we found up in the attic. We spent an hour giggling at the ridiculous fashions and hairstyles they had back then. Apparently wizard fashions mimic Muggle fashions at the time; there were all sorts of pictures of witches with Farrah Fawcett hair and robes that flared out like bell-bottoms.

I've sent a quick letter to Mum and Dad ("I'm just getting ready to go down to the Christmas feast in the Great Hall"), and another to Viktor ("I can't believe they're making you play a Quidditch match on Christmas Eve! I do hope you get vacation pay or something"), along with their Christmas presents. Harry allowed me to borrow Hedwig for both deliveries. I feel sort of bad that Hedwig has to spend Christmas Eve flying to Bulgaria, but Harry told me not to worry about it, and assured me that owls probably do not celebrate Christmas Eve. Well, they are amazingly intelligent creatures…and anyway, he didn't have to make fun of me, I only meant that poor Hedwig shouldn't be flying out in the snow on a night like this. I didn't feel bad because I thought that she was going to be missing Christmas dinner with her owl family.

Speaking of Christmas dinner, I'd better get going; Mrs. Weasley probably needs help in the kitchen. Sirius has invited everyone from the Order and has been fussing about all day. I even caught him helping Mrs. Weasley with the cooking and donning a frilly apron. Ha - imagine what the Daily Prophet would say. Sirius Black, mass murderer in an apron…

1:30 a.m.

Ohhh…I am so full…I can't sleep because I can't roll over onto my stomach because it's going to burst if I put any pressure on it. Ginny, however, is sleeping like a baby and possibly looks even thinner than she did before she wolfed down three pieces of chocolate cake. It isn't fair.

Here is what I ate (inhaled?) at dinner (it was Mrs. Weasley's cooking…I couldn't resist…):

- five slices of turkey (three with gravy, two with cranberry sauce)

- four different kinds of potatoes (baked, mashed, scalloped, roasted…)

- several types of pies (shepherd's, mince, etc.)

- a million servings of stuffing

- every kind of pudding known to man (boiled puddings, steamed puddings…I think I even ate the pudding that Sirius accidentally set on fire this afternoon and then salvaged with magic, even though I swore to avoid it)

- one and a half slices of chocolate cake

- various tarts, custards, cookies, and even a piece of fruitcake

- three glasses of pumpkin juice, two glasses of eggnog, and a sip of wine (on a dare from Ron)

- one gingerbread man

Around six o'clock the doorbell started ringing (and Mrs. Black started hollering - but even she seems to be in the Christmas spirit, I could have sworn I heard a "Bah humbug" in amongst the usual insults) and various members of the Order began showing up carrying bowls of cranberry sauce and stuffing and all sorts of puddings and cookies and cakes. Tonks tried to bake an apple pie, but her Baking Spell had backfired, and for some reason her pie had ended up with a miniature apple tree growing out of the centre of it. Bill thought this was ingenious though, and placed the apple pie tree on display in the middle of the long table that Sirius had set up in the kitchen.

Kingsley showed up too, and Arabella Figg in her carpet slippers. Mundungus Fletcher came later, smelling strongly of alcohol (and this was before the six or seven glasses of wine he had at dinner). Professor Lupin also showed up, looking very happy and energetic (it's a new moon tonight, which is as far away from the full moon as one can get, I suppose). Even Mad-Eye Moody came, although people were leaping out of his path and keeping their distance all night, because a very silly Sirius (who drank entirely too much wine) had charmed some mistletoe to float above his head and follow him around all night. At one point Ron, Ginny, and I were actually in tears because we were trying so hard not to laugh at this. And then when Mad-Eye barked"Something wrong with you, boy" to Ron, who was clutching his stomach in silent laughter, it made it even funnier.

Harry wasn't too amused, though. I think he's still angry with Moody for thinking that he's possessed by Voldemort and calling him "funny". Not as in funny "ha ha", but as in "peculiar" funny.

Then there were a whole gaggle of people that I don't know very well and who only stayed for a bit - Barty Hallaway, the youngish wizard who "can't keep a girl", according to Tonks (he winked at me when we were introduced, which was sort of odd), stately Emeline Vance, Diedrich Diefenbaker, who only recently joined, little Dedalus Diggle, who fell asleep in the Yorkshire pudding after a few glasses of wine and a lot of turkey, and a few others whose names I didn't catch.

I wish Mr. Weasley could have been released from St. Mungo's to be with us. But, as he cheerfully informed Mrs. Weasley on her last visit, his wounds are still bleeding profusely. Mrs. Weasley said some very nice words about him before dinner, actually…and about the state of things in general.

"Before we start, let us give thanks…for our families and friends, for our healths, for the dedicated and wonderful group of people gathered around this table, for the temporary and tentative peace in our world." At this, several people frowned and worried looks darkened many faces. Mrs. Weasley kept her eyes fixed on the tablecloth and continued.

"Let us keep in mind those who…could not be with us this evening…" At this she pursed her lips into a very thin line, and I could see she wasn't just talking about Mr. Weasley, but about Percy, too. "And most importantly, I would like to give thanks that my husband is alive." She raised her glass. "To Arthur's speedy recovery and continued health."

Murmurs of "To Arthur" or "To Dad" or "To Mr. Weasley" (in the cases of Harry and I) echoed around the kitchen as everyone lifted their glasses in salute.

"And to Harry" Mrs. Weasley added, looking affectionately at Harry, who turned scarlet and tried to make himself invisible by slouching down in his chair. "Without him, who…who knows what would have happened to Arthur."

"To Harry" everyone repeated. Moody was frowning during this toast, but Sirius was beaming at everyone as if to say"That's my godson we're toasting." Or maybe it was just because he had already had a lot of wine.

"And to the Chudley Cannons" Ron said solemnly once the official toasts had ended and everyone had started eating. "May they finally win the Quidditch Cup."

"Time to give up the dream, Ron, old man" George said, shoveling potatoes onto his plate.

"The Cannons haven't caught the Snitch all season" added Fred, grabbing the potatoes from George.

"Have faith" Ron said simply. "Have faith…"

I've never seen so many members of the Order in one place, all cheerful and happy and laughing and talking. Everyone put all of their worries aside for one night and just enjoyed the amazing feast that Mrs. Weasley cooked for us. It was a Christmas dinner entirely unlike anything at home (usually for Christmas dinner we just go to Gramps' house with Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Thomas) or even the Christmas Feast at Hogwarts (because you're just sitting with your houses like at every other meal). This was loud and rowdy and happy and cheerful and I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though right now I feel like I'm going to be sick.