Gwen dragged herself out of bed at ten o' clock on Christmas morning, opposed to her usual six, trudged down the stairs, and plopped down in front of the tree. Her parents came out of the kitchen, each holding a steaming cup of coffee. Her mother also carried a mug of hot chocolate for Gwen, with plenty of marshmallows.

"Merry Christmas!" her father exclaimed.

"Morning," she replied sleepily, holding the mug close in front of her with both hands. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, savoring the rich chocolaty aroma.

"Are you ready to open presents?" her mother asked.

Gwen shrugged and sipped her drink. Her father's smile slipped a little as he tugged a Santa hat down onto his head. "Is something wrong?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Just tired."

Obviously unconvinced, he hesitated before choosing a present from the pile and handing it to her. Gwen set her mug on the floor and accepted the package, raising an eyebrow at the sound it made. A sound like...

"Legos?" Holding a ripped piece of paper in one hand, Gwen stared at the box. "Da..."

"You're thinking you're too old for building blocks," he guessed. "I thought, since you have nothing better to do today, we might get back to our roots."

Gwen laughed softly and shook her head. "Sure thing, Da."

Mary reached for a gift, but her husband shooed her hand away.

"You know the tradition, Mum. Whoever wears the Santa hat passes out gifts, and only the wearer," Gwen admonished. Her mother sighed and gazed longingly at the small box she had tried to pick up. Deliberately avoiding it, David handed her a mid-size box, which she quickly unwrapped.

"A... toaster?" She looked at her husband questioningly. "What does it do?"

"It toasts bread," he laughed.

"Ooh, I've heard about those! I even saw one in Muggle Studies once, but didn't get to see it work," Gwen said excitedly.

"Sometimes I forget what an advantage I have over you two," her father sighed. "You can try it out when we finish up."

Gwen continued to steal glances at the toaster box while her father opened a sweater. "Is it really better than toasting it the normal way?" she asked.

"I don't know about better," he answered, "but I'm pretty sure there's less chance of burning the bread."

Her father handed her another box, which contained a few books to add to her collection: Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them, Useful Herbs You Can Grow in Your Garden, and The Beginner's Guide to Magical First-Aid.

"We thought that last one would be helpful, since you're so interested in Healing," her mother said.

"Thanks, it's great," Gwen told them. "I'm sure it'll come in handy, and I know just the guinea pig..."

The pile of presents under the tree steadily diminished as the number of gifts next to Gwen increased. There were half-open boxes of clothes ("Santa Claus" brought her a really nice new hooded dress cloak, lined with gray satin and trimmed with thread-of-silver stars), more books, a Quick Quotes Quill, a Remembrall, and a few pieces of jewelry. Last, but not least, her father handed Maura the mysterious little box, which she eagerly unwrapped, tossing scraps of paper carelessly to the floor. She lifted the lid slowly, and her mouth dropped open in wordless awe.

"Oh, David... I... I don't know what to say," she managed at last.

"Then don't say anything," he answered, leaning in to kiss her.

Gwen craned her neck, swaying left to right in an attempt to see the contents of the box. David took the box and removed a three-stone pendant on a gold chain, consisting of three sizable diamonds. Gwen's own jaw dropped in astonishment, and her father moved behind her mother to fasten the pendant around her neck. She instinctively put a hand over it, giggling like a school girl.

While she was temporarily incapacitated, Gwen's father waved his wand to clear up the paper, and Gwen took her presents up to her room. When she returned to the living room, her mother was still tittering occasionally with a far away look in her eyes.

"Ready to break out these Legos?" her dad asked brightly.

"Actually, I'd like to play with the toaster," Gwen replied eagerly.

"All right," he laughed. "What about you, Mary?" Still overwhelmed, she made no response.

"Mum?" Then more loudly, "Mum?"

She stirred, and then blinked before looking at them. "What's that?"

"Do you want to check out the toaster?" Gwen asked.

"Oh... Sure." Her hand fell from her throat.

Opening the box and removing the Muggle apparatus, David carried it into the kitchen and plugged it into a seldom-used outlet.

"I want to do it!" Gwen exclaimed as he cut a slice of bread from the loaf in the bread box. He smiled and handed it to her, then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. She studied the appliance, looking from the slots on the top to the knob and lever on the side. "Uh... How does it work?"

"You figure it out, Miss Muggle Studies," he answered.

"All right then, I will. Okay... Well, the bread obviously goes into the top... And then it looks like you turn the knobby thingy here, right?" He raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to glare at him. "Fine. Now I'll press this thingy here..."

Gwen waited a few seconds after pressing the lever, and nothing happened. She looked at her father, who shrugged innocently. Resuming her watch on the toaster, she began to drum her fingers on the counter. Impatience and curiosity got the best of her, and she leaned over the toaster, looking down the slot.

"Hey, those wires are all red in there..." Suddenly, the bread popped up, and she jumped back with a yell. Her dad laughed as he removed the toasted bread from the machine with his fingertips and held it up. Completely black.

"Do you want butter or jam with that?"

"Well, it isn't very user-friendly," Gwen said defensively.

"You should have paid attention to the dial on the side," he teased.

She glared at him again, spending the better part of the next two hours experimenting with the toaster, her squeals becoming less with each cycle.

Gwen's eyes popped open suddenly the following morning and a smile curved her lips. Quickly, she shut her eyes again as she heard the doorknob turn. Unable to control her smile, she pulled the covers up to her eyes, pretending to hide her face from the light in the doorway.

"Nice try, but I know you're awake." Gwen could hear Oliver's own smile reflected in his voice. With an exaggerated sigh, she threw back the covers, beaming at him.

"It was worth a shot," she laughed, and he sat on the edge of the bed. Gwen reached her arms out to him and he leaned in for a hug and a kiss.

"How was yesterday?" he asked, brushing one of many stray hairs out of her face.

"We got a toaster, which is exciting, but I'd rather have had you."

He gave her one of those grins that always meant he was planning something. "So, it looks like you got some new Legos for Christmas."

Throwing him a sideling glance, she rolled onto her side to look at the newly built Lego house in the corner. "Yeah, Da wanted to 'get back to our roots.'" She finally pulled herself into a sitting position, stretching her back in the process.

"Your parents seemed rather... affectionate when I came in," he said.

"Oh. That. Mum got a diamond necklace for Christmas."

"Do girls always go nuts over diamonds like that?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said lightly.

Gwen's father appeared in the doorway and Oliver quickly stood.

"I have to go to work. I just wanted to say 'bye," he said.

"Work? I thought you had the day off," Gwen responded.

"No; they need me in the office. Fudge has a meeting with the Italian Minister tomorrow and we have to prepare."

Gwen hugged her father before he left, then went to the bathroom to freshen up.

"I don't know what it is, but your father scares the hell out of me," Oliver admitted.

"I think it's some subconscious thing because you're sleeping with his daughter," Gwen said with a grin.

"Sneak out with me tonight."

"What?"

"Sneak you with me tonight. Meet me at your house. I want to give you something."

She glanced down with a bemused look. "I'm sure you do."

"No, that's not what I meant. Well, okay, the thought did cross my mind, but that wasn't what I meant."

"Oh? Then what did you mean?"

He gave her that grin again. "It's a surprise."

Gwen pulled him into the bathroom and closed the door, wrapping her arms around him. Drawing him close, she hopped up onto the counter.

"I'm not going to tell you, if that's what you're after," he said, snaking his arms around her waist.

"You're sure I can't loosen your lips?" she asked softly before leaning in to kiss him. Her legs hooked around him, pulling his hips closer. He returned the kiss almost roughly.

"You know when you do that I don't much feel like talking," he breathed.

"C'mon, tell me," she pleaded, tugging at his lower lip.

"Never."

"Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to tell me?" she asked, lightly caressing his jaw and sliding her fingers into his hair. He made a low sound in his throat, almost like a growl.

"You'll find out if you sneak out with me tonight." His hands gripped the backs of her legs, pulling her to the edge of the counter. "Why can't you wear a nightgown to bed?" His lips dragged across her neck.

"My father may have left, but my mother is still home," she reminded him.

"So? She already knows what we do."

"You're obviously not getting enough blood to your brain right now."

"Hey, you're the one who pulled me into the bathroom." Still gripping her thighs, he ground against her and groaned. Gwen bit her lip.

"The point is," she breathed, "even if we were married, I still couldn't have sex with you with my mother in the house. Even if I really, really wanted to..."

"So what am I supposed to do with this?" Another grind, groan, gasp.

"Did she see you come in?"

"I don't think--" A knock at the door silenced him.

"Gwen? Are you all right in there?" Her heart stopped. Quickly her hand covered Oliver's mouth.

"Fine, Mum." She was surprised by the steadiness of her voice. "I'm just about to get in the shower."

"Wasn't Oliver here?" Suddenly, you saw a way out. Or a possibly fatal misstep.

"He left. To go flying. So I could take a shower."

"Flying?"

"Yeah. He said something about... playing Quidditch when sunlight is reflecting off the snow." She waited with bated breath, heart racing.

"He sure is dedicated. Well, when you're done, I have pancakes downstairs."

"Sounds great, Mum. I'll be down in a bit." Gwen and Oliver listened intently as her footsteps retreated down the hall, then heaved great sighs of relief, foreheads falling together.

"So... the shower, eh?" Oliver asked with interest.

She grinned. "Yes, but you'll have to be quiet."

"Me? You're the loud one."

"Is your wand handy?"

"Well, your mother kind of freaked me out, but just give me a minute and--" He stopped when she frantically waved her hand. "Oh, you meant that literally? Yeah, it's in my pocket, why?"

"Can you silence me?"

"Aw, but I like the noise."

"Do you want my mother to hear and catch us?"

"Oh, right. It's that whole lack of blood to the brain thing."

After a very steamy shower, Gwen and Oliver toweled each other off.

"You know, I feel a lot dirtier coming out of that shower than I did going in," she said.

"Maybe we should have another, then," Oliver said hopefully.

"Nice try, but that one was quite long enough. Hey, I think those are dry now. You're not even pretending to use the towel anymore." He grinned sheepishly and removed his hands from her chest, reluctantly beginning to dress himself. Gwen bent over and threw her hair forward to towel dry it. "I don't need any help there just now, either, thank you." She rolled her eyes when he feigned a pout.

"I can see I'm not going to win this time, even if you do feel like you're ready for another round," he complained. "It's just that it's been so long, since... the last Quidditch match."

"You haven't died for want of it, have you?" she asked.

"Well, no, but--" he began earnestly.

"Well, you'll probably have to get used to it. When we get back to school, with students being petrified left and right, it's not likely we'll be doing much sneaking off to broom cupboards."

"So..."

"So we'll have to make the most of our Christmas break," she said nonchalantly, suppressing a wicked grin.

"Then tonight can we..."

"Like rabbits," she laughed. "Now then, there's the matter of your returning from flight practice with wet hair."

"I got sweaty and had a shower. Ha, not a complete lie." He sighed wistfully as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"When we get downstairs, I'll have to pretend to let you in."

Gwen listened carefully before cracking the bathroom door and peeking out.

"Any sign of her?" Oliver whispered.

"Shhh!... No." Opening the door, she motioned for Oliver to follow her silently down the stairs, stopping at the top to listen for her mother. The sound of running water floated from the kitchen. Once at the bottom, Gwen went to the front door and opened it. Unable to feign a believable greeting, she said nothing and closed the door. Hopefully, Mum wouldn't have hard me say anything anyway. Wincing at her own floundering, she glanced at Oliver. So far so good.

"Oh, Oliver, I didn't hear you knock." The sound of her mother's voice at that moment was nearly enough to make Gwen jump.

"He didn't have to. I knew he was there." Well, at least I got one right.

"There you are, dear. How was flight practice?" Oh, crap, Mrs. Wood's here, too.

"Fine, Mum. Very... bright."

"You can go upstairs, but leave the door open," Gwen's mother said.

Gwen stood there another moment, smiling nervously, before heading back to her room, Oliver in tow.

"They know something," she whispered frantically, beginning to pace.

"How do you know?" Oliver asked.

"Because they didn't say anything."

"What? That makes no sense."

"Yes, it does. If they didn't suspect anything, they would have been much nicer. Remember the pancakes?"

"Okay, so maybe they suspect something, but they don't know anything," Oliver insisted.

"Yes, they know. I can tell by the way my mother looked at me."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't look so guilty."

"I can't help feeling guilty when I am. She's like a human lie detector."

"Do you regret it then? Would you rather we had waited? Do you feel like I pressured you into having sex?"

He emanated such a feeling of hurt that Gwen stopped her pacing and went to him and caressed his cheek so tenderly with such a soft look that his hard surface melted.

"Don't say such things, love," she murmured, now tracing his jaw, now running her fingers over his lips. "I didn't mean it to sound so harsh." Her left hand rested on his shoulder as her right slid to his chest. "I don't regret any time we've spent together, in bed or out. Besides," she added with a smirk, "it's not like I need to 'save myself' anymore. I won't be marrying anyone else with you in the back of my head."

His brooding mood started to wear off; his hand caressed her cheek and she held it, kissing his palm. "That would make things awkward, wouldn't it?" he laughed.

Their mothers checked on them more than once, only to find them laying quietly on the bed, Gwen's head on Oliver's chest. When they were sure they were back downstairs, the pair worked on their plans for sneaking out.