Molly was quite sure she hadn't heard correctly. Then again, a quick glance around the room confirmed that everyone was as astounded as she was.

"Whatever do you mean, darling?" asked Ginny. "You know that your Uncle Fred isn't with us anymore. He...he isn't around, Al."

Albus glanced at Molly and then at George before answering. "He comes to talk to me sometimes." He told his left shoe. "Not all the time. And he doesn't stay long because he doesn't want Grammy or Uncle George to see him. He doesn't want them to be sad. I'm sorry, mum. Please don't be mad."

A single tear rolled down George's cheek. Molly knew her son may not be able to hold it together much longer. This was definitely something to be discussed. But not now.

"Well!" She said. "I don't know about you lot, but I think it's high time we got started on opening some presents!" To the living room, everyone!"

Once everyone got settled around the tree, the summoning of the gifts began. Cries of "Accio!" echoed throughout the room as presents of all shapes and sizes zoomed here and there, to the delight of both children and adults. Molly had spent nearly the entire year knitting her famous Weasley sweaters for all the grandkids. Scarves for her children, of course. They weren't getting off without handmade gifts. She watched them happily as the children tore into their packages eagerly.

"Swell!" Shouted Freddie, holding up an Ever-Bashing Boomerang from Ron and Hermione. He high-fived his uncle and then glanced at his mother. "I know," he sighed. "Not in the house."

Dominique tore open a parcel from Charlie to reveal a pair of red dragon hide boots. "Those are Chinese Fireball, those are." Said Charlie, pointing.

"Wow!" Exclaimed Dominique, sliding one onto her stockinged foot. "They're great! Um, Uncle Charlie, they don't... They don't kill the dragons to make these boots, do they?"

Charlie smiled. "No, Dom. They don't hurt the dragons at all. They use scales that the dragons don't use anymore. Ones they have already shed."

"Oh, Mummy! Look!" Cried Victoire. She was pulling the last of the wrapping off of a porcelain doll that had been made entirely in her image. Molly caught her breath. The doll was so detailed, down to the little cluster of freckles Victoire had below her left eye.

"Victoire, honey, who is that from?" Molly asked her. She picked up the wrappings that Victoire had tossed aside. There was no name other than Victoire's. She peered closer. There, stuck to the tape, was a strand of very blue hair. Molly glanced in the corner. Teddy appeared to be very interested in his blueberry crumble, yet his cheeks were unmistakably pink.

"Merlin's beard! What a gift!" Arthur had just opened a strange looking contraption that could only be something made by muggles. "I've seen these! A what's-it-called. A toadster!"

"It's a toaster, Mr. Weasley. For bread." Explained Hermione.

"Yes, yes. Precisely." Said Arthur, examining his new toy.

Molly couldn't help but roll her eyes. Well, at least he would have something to keep him busy when things were slow at the Ministry. Arthur seemed to get bored so easily now that he had switched to part-time.

"Ho! I say!"

Molly smiled. It sure was nice to hear Percy's laugh so often these days. She looked up. Percy, Audrey, Ron, and Hermione were all laughing quite heartily while both Little Molly and Rose were clutching something in their hands and looking confused.

"Now see this, Mother!" Said Percy, still chortling. "We bought the same thing for Rosie that they bought for our Molly. Gift parchments for Flourish and Blotts! How about that? Books ARE the gift that keep on giving, you know!" He laughed again and shook his head.

As Percy walked away, Molly became aware of a slight sniffling sound behind her. She turned to find Jamie, face alight, holding a miniature broomstick while both Harry and Ginny were wiping their eyes with tissues that Hermione was handing them. Ron was watching Harry with an apologetic look on his face.

"What in the world is going on?" Molly asked, concerned. Harry mutely handed her a card. When she opened it, a picture fell out along with a very old and crumpled letter. The card read:

Harry and Ginny

Hoping this holiday season

finds you well. A few months

ago, we came across

Hermione's old beaded bag

in the attic. The last of the

enchantments were starting

to wear off and we were able

to retrieve some of the things

we thought we had lost. It is

our pleasure to return to you,

Harry, your mother's letter. We'd

also like to present James with

his first broomstick, in memory

of Sirius, since he could not

be with us to do so himself.

Love be with you always,

Hermione and Ron

By the time Molly was finished reading the card and Lily's letter, she had quite the case of the sniffles herself. She handed the papers back to Harry, who then passed them around the now-curious rest of the room. Jamie, who was becoming impatient, threw one leg over his new broomstick. When no adult stopped him, he kicked off. This of course resulted in immediate bedlam. Lily was the first to be knocked over. Freddie was instantly on Jamie's tail, begging to have a turn at "knocking down the sister". Louis claimed that it was to be his turn, as he was older than both of them. Meanwhile Hugo sat, clapping his hands and laughing while it was Lucy's turn to start crying because Freddie had just stepped on one of her pretty new dollies. Albus however, simply watched the chaos calmly. Molly was about to hold up her hands for the third time that night, when her husband stepped in.

"WEASLEYS! POTTERS! LISTEN UP!" He shouted. "It is Christmas and I will not have this in my house. Now, I do believe it is my lovely wife's turn to open some presents. Charlie, if you'd be so kind as to fetch mine please, I think she should open that one first. Thank you, son."

Charlie stood up and disappeared outside. A moment later, he returned with an old paper sack. Molly eyed it wearily. She glanced at Arthur, who nodded. Molly reached inside and pulled out an old, rusted radio.

"But..." She began. "But, what are you on about, Arthur? This hasn't worked since...since before the war! It got smashed up a bit when the Death Eaters, I mean..." She broke off, glancing at the little ones. She started over. "Arthur, I don't understand." She said. Arthur merely stared at her. She was beginning to wonder if he was going mad. Spending too much time in the garage with his muggle artifacts. Wait a second. Spending too much time in the garage. Could it be? She turned the dial to the "on" position. Suddenly, the Burrow was filled with the crystalline voice of Celestina Warbeck. Fleur wrinkled her nose. Molly put her hand over her heart.

"Oh, Arthur," she whispered as she hugged him tightly. "You funny man."

After all the presents had been opened and Celestina had finished her final song with a particularly high note, it was time to start saying good-byes. Some of the younger children had fallen asleep in various places around the house. It took Ron nearly ten whole minutes to locate Hugo, who had managed to fall asleep, curled up in the cat's bed under the staircase. Little Molly, on the other hand, had found an old book of her father's and flat out refused to leave. It took quite a bit of coaxing and a promise that the book would be in exactly the same place the next time she came. The mothers rounded up the rest of the children while the fathers collected the mountains of gifts. Several trips were made before the floor of the Burrow could be seen again. Care packages were wrapped and sent with dessert. A kiss was blown to each of her children. Soon, only Arthur and Molly stood in the garden, waving a last farewell.

"You don't have to cry, you know." Said Arthur, wiping a tear from Molly's face. "You'll see them here and there in a few days." He kissed her on the forehead and went inside.

Molly turned to follow him but before she closed the door, she blew one last kiss. She smiled as she watched Fred catch it in the cool night breeze.