Christmas Eve was a special night for the Weasleys, something Rose looked forward to every year. Christmas day would hold dinner at Gran Molly's, The Burrow bursting at the seams with cousins of all ages, but Christmas Eve was a quieter affair, one spent at home with the company of her mother's parents, Granna and Papa Granger.

"No, Papa, she's a chaser. A beater deals with the bludger. And it's the seeker who…"

No matter how many times Hugo or Ron attempted to explain Quidditch, Carlisle Granger would furrow his brow and in turn attempt to repeat the breakdown, only to mistake some element for that of Muggle futbol or rugby. The exchange was happening as it did every Christmas, and Rose laughed from her seat on the floor at her grandfather's feet.

Papa Granger had retired from his dental practice the year Rose started at Hogwarts, and he soon found himself with too much time on his hands and too little to do. His wife, the ever-sensible Maryellen, had stayed on at the practice, working the reception desk in the afternoons. No matter the shift that took place in their careers four years ago, any gift given by the Grangers was accompanied with a new model toothbrush and floss of a different color.

Rose glanced toward the Christmas tree. Three presents a piece sparkled in the light of the fireplace, and she was itching to find out what hers held. Hugo, however, appeared about to pull out his hair after explaining bludgers and beaters for the fourth –or was it fifth?– time.

Suddenly, her thirteen-year-old brother sighed dramatically and flopped backwards in the chair, hands over his face. "It's useless.." he mumbled, drawing a laugh from the rest of his audience.

"Sorry, ol' boy," Carlisle chuckled, removing his glasses and cleaning them on his sweater vest. "I can never get the ruddy thing straight. You'll have to show me one day."

Another sigh escaped the young man. He was beside himself that, one, no magic was allowed outside of Hogwarts, and, two, he'd been banned from flying the broom in the house only yesterday. One misfire of a quaffle toward the rubbish bin had crashed Hermione's favorite china set to the ground.

Rose rolled her eyes at him and pushed his knee playfully. "Oh, come off it, Hugo. It's Christmas."

He was silent, his face still covered, until slowly a mischievous grin appeared. "Which means…."

Granna Granger's eyes sparkled as she gestured towards the tree. "Go on. You've waited all night."

Before she even finished her sentence, the pair of Weasley siblings were scrambling over one another toward the packages.

"This one's yours!"
"That's mine! Oh. Thanks."
"Here's one for… no, that's for me!"
"One more, over there. Come on!"

Wrapping paper was torn into confetti as the two opened their packages. One day Rose would be more ladylike and show some restraint, she thought, but today was not that day.

"Awesome!" Hugo cried, holding up the latest Muggle gaming system. It was handheld and with a shiny black finish; Rose could already see him trying to figure out how to sneak it off to Hogwarts with him.

Rose's first package held the usual items: a toothbrush, floss, an assortment of different flavored toothpastes. Rose sometimes thought those were more risky than Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The second package was a new leather-bound journal with gold-lined pages. "I love it!" she exclaimed, eyes shining.

"You've one more dear," said Granna, her gaze twinkling like that of her granddaughters.

Reaching for the final, much larger box, Rose smiled her gratitude at her grandparents before slipping off the red velvet bow. When she finally saw what was inside, a gasp pushed through her lips. "It's… it's beautiful!"

Rose ran a featherlight touch over the silky fabric, tapping the beads gingerly before lifting the dress from its package. The red was vibrant, the light catching on each curve and tuck of the material. Rose stood and drew the dress up with her; it cascaded down to her ankles, and the sight of it silenced the room.

Maryanne's eyes were crinkled with age and emotion as she watched the young girl become a young woman before her. "You have your first ball coming up, I believe. I thought–" but the woman's words were cut off as a head of auburn curls flew at her for a hug.

"It's perfect!"

She and Hermione had planned to go shopping in Diagon Alley the following week for a dress she could wear to the St. Valentine's Day ball, but Rose was worried about showing up in the same gown as another girl. Her mother must have mentioned it to Granna, and now Rose had a gown fit for a princess, one unlike anything else to be found at the February ball.

"Shall we see if it fits?" Maryellen whispered, her voice taut with emotion.

Rose took her by the hand and helped the elderly woman up from the couch, and the pair moved up the stairs to her bedroom. "Go one, go on," Maryellen laughed, a twinkle in her eye as she hurried her granddaughter inside.

Rose giggled and shimmied out of her clothes. She stepped carefully into the dress, sliding the fine material over her hips and pulling her arms through the sleeves that dipped around her shoulders. Her grandmother stepped up behind her to finish the zipper and, "Voila. A true beauty." Granna Granger leaned in and pressed a kiss to her granddaughter's cheek.

Rose was positively glowing.

"He's a lucky young man," said the older woman, a tear in her eye.

"Who is, Gran?" asked Rose, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Again Gran laughed. "Whoever is making you smile like that."

Her cheeks turned crimson as Rose looked back to her reflection in the mirror. There was one young man on her mind, one she could not wait to see her in the dress. She couldn't wait to see him at all, in fact. "Gran, I don't–"

"I know you better than that," the woman interrupted with a knowing smile. "But your secret is safe with me."