Disclaimer: Once, I dreamed about Harry Potter! I was him and fighting Voldemort down by the bridge near my house. It was strange 'cuz when spells would hit me, things would go black... then Dumbledore came and he was going to save me but I woke up! Grr... Anyways, does THAT mean I own Harry Potter (at least in my dreams?)
A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry for the wait! I was struck with writer's block over this fic for a while and it was really hard just sitting down and writing out this chapter. But I knew I'd held off for too long and decided to get out the beginning of this chapter right away, hence the shortness. But it's better than no updates at all! Thank you to TwilightsCalling, jayley, lilacBookstar, Riker 15, kittyrunner, shannyauburn, Crazy-Physco, Cowabunga, and blackruby873.
Also, I will be gone from July 18 to July 27 so will be unable to contact anyone or update until after.
It Ends Now
Part 25: "Yuletide: Part 1"
Professor Dumbledore's office was a very large one, but at the present moment Harry Potter just wasn't feeling the spaciousness. As he looked around at the seven other occupants other than himself, he rather felt that the room was closing in on them. Other than him, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny there were four adults- Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Remus... and he surmised, quite rightly, that the latter three were there for his protection.
Dumbledore picked up a colorful pot resting on the corner of his desk. He gazed into the delicate object for a moment with an almost pensive look, then awoke from his reverie and led the troop to his fireplace.
"We're about to lead you four through the Floo Network," the headmaster spoke to his students, giving them each a serious look in turn. "Arthur and Molly will travel first and await you on the other end. Remus will follow last should anything go wrong."
"Will anything?" Hermione asked, sounding as if she had something lodged in her throat. Harry wondered if it was fear.
"I am not expecting anything to, but it is better to be safe than sorry," Dumbledore replied, gravely inclining his head. "These are dangerous times, and even a simple mode of transportation can go awry and become fatal should one gain the access to tamper with it."
"You mean Voldemort," Harry clarified, and Dumbledore nodded to him.
"Exactly. But seeing as what happened to the Hogwarts Express the beginning of this year, I am not willing to risk sending you on the Knight Bus. And flying to the Burrow is out of the question; it's too far and too easily spotted," the old mage explained. "Flooing is our safest bet."
"Let's not talk about 'what ifs' right now, hmm?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted tersely and anxiously, wringing her hands. "Can we go now, Albus?"
"But of course." He held out the Floo powder to the two parents, giving it a gentle shake.
"I'll go first," Mr. Weasley proclaimed, giving his wife a wan smile and wishing to the children, "Stay safe." He ducked into the unlit fireplace and threw down the powder.
"THE BURROW!"
And he disappeared in a burst of emerald flame. Mrs. Weasley kissed each of the children on the forehead, reminding,
"Loud and clear, remember," before following her husband.
"Harry, you next," the oldest wizard in the room ordered, holding out the pot once more. Harry put his hand in and returned with a handful of the soft, sand-like powder just as Dumbledore tapped the boy's head with his wand. Harry felt an odd warmth spread through him and he shivered at the feeling.
"Did you Disillusion me, sir?"
"No. It was a weak tracking device should something happen. Barely traceable. Now hurry, before it wears off!"
Harry nodded and jumped into the fire-less hearth, ignoring the warmth still tickling at his insides. He threw down the Floo powder, shouting,
"THE BURROW!"
A blast of green overtook his vision and Harry was whisked nauseatingly along the Floo Network, praying he'd get to his destination. He knew how insecure the Floo could be, but Dumbledore's words of reassurance rang in his head and soothed him into near-calmness. If this method had Dumbledore's blessing, it had to be safe. But still, that did not completely stop the threads of doubt and fear clawing lightly at him...
The spinning stopped and the green flames spat Harry out onto a cold floor. He opened his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and looked up.
Back in Dumbledore's office, said wizard smiled and nodded. "He made it safely."
Everyone let out a relieved breath.
"Miss Weasley, kindly?"
oOo
Harry was pulled to his feet by Mrs. Weasley, but before he could even get his bearings the motherly old witch had enveloped him in a suffocating hug, sniffling in his ear.
"Harry, thank goodness you made it!"
"Yes, I'm here," Harry acknowledged lamely, awkwardly patting her on the back. He was totally rubbish with teary woman, even ones multiple times his age! A roaring sound reverbrated from behind him and the plump ginger-head mother released Harry as Ginny fell out of the fireplace. She grinned up at her mom cheekily.
"Hi, Mum!"
"Oh, for goodness sakes, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley scowled good-naturedly while rolling her eyes, nevertheless giving the girl a hand and hug. Hermione followed quickly behind and Ron shot out immediately after, landing with an "Oof!" on top of Hermione.
"RONALD! GET OFF ME!" the bushy haired pedantic wailed. "I can't breathe!"
"I'm not that fat," the ginger haired teen grumbled, straightening up and offering her a hand that she obstinately refused. The girl just pursed her lips with an air of indignance but made no smart retort. The fire rumbled one last time and ejaculated Remus, who stepped out gracefully while brushing off his shabby robes.
"Well, that went well," he smiled after giving his former students a quick eye-sweep and head count. "We're all here, safe and sound."
"All your stuff was sent ahead," Mrs. Weasley informed. "Everyone, upstairs and unpack, please! Then we'll all start on gingerbread men! This will be a Christmas none of you will forget."
She sent an especially sweet look to Hermione and Harry, whose insides glowed at the undescribable feeling of being loved that rose up within him.
oOo
The days passed by in a flurry of excitement like the snow that was steadily building up outdoors; a rush of joy and anticipation spreading throughout the house like a contagion. Christmas was quickly nearing and Harry revelled in the decorating, baking, preparing, and family time that filled up the first days of vacation- ones that were mercifully Voldemort-free. For the first time in a long while, Harry actually felt safe. Dumbledore had informed him of the wards that surrounded the Burrow, and how they'd been placed with the upmost protection available. Harry wasn't sure exactly how they worked, but his headmaster had hinted that it was related to the Weasley parents. Living so worry-free was a blessing for the seeker, and he found he didn't even need to prepare for Occlusion the night of Christmas Eve. His mind was already clear and not bogged down with worries, and fate seemed smiling down upon him as the Boy-Who-Lived had his first nightmare-lacking night in a long time.
oOo
THWACK!
Harry cried out as something whipped across his face, a hand flying up to his stinging nose. He opened bleary eyes to gaze reproachingly at one Ronald Weasley, green irises glaring daggers.
"That hurt!"
"Really? It was only a pillow," Ron chuckled, holding up the offending plush. "And here I was thinking that seekers had to be tough, especially if they started out as the youngest in a century!"
"Why you-!"
Harry couldn't come up with a suitable comeback so just resorted to grabbing his pillow and flinging it at the freckled keeper. He dodged skillfully.
"Ooh, missed!"
"How astute, Sherlock," Harry leered sarcastically, in the process of aiming another pillow at the boy's head.
"Sherlock? Is that supposed to be a witty comeback?" Ron laughed.
"Sherlock Holmes, you biggest dolt there ever was," a female voice answered exasperatedly. "Only perhaps the most well-known Muggle literary detective! Jeez, Ron, you need to read up on your Muggle Studies!"
Ron made a face at Hermione. "I don't need to know that rubbish! That's Dad's area of interest, not mine!"
"Like you don't need to know how to be quiet?" the brainy one of the trio grinned, hands on her hips. "The whole reason I came over here was to see what all the racket was."
"And now you know- I was merely helping our slowpoke friend wake up! You know how he is!"
"Yes, it's appalling to sleep in at Christmas," Hermione agreed, fixing Harry with a would-be serious glare. "My apologies, dear Ronald."
"Can the flirting, you two," Harry yawned, ignoring their flushes and looks of death that proclaimed definite revenge. He pulled on his dressing robe. "I just had the best night's sleep all year and you had to go and ruin it!"
Ron smirked. "It's the best mate's duty, Harry. 'Sides, did you want to miss the gift opening? Bet Ginny's already down there, drooling all over my presents..." He trailed off darkly, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he wondered what Ron was fantasizing up in his head.
They paraded down into the living room noisily, greeted by the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, Charlie, and Bill. All of them were laughing, chatting, and sporting hot mugs of cocoa. They were framed under the Christmas tree erected yesterday, a traditional turn from all the other years Harry'd celebrated Christmas knowing he was a wizard. Usually presents were left at the end of one's bed, but not this year. Harry rather liked this new twist, though.
"There they are!" Mrs. Weasley warmly admonished. "We were beginning to wonder how long it would take you three!"
"Yes, the twins even graciously offered to wake you lot up," Ginny added evilly, and the two identicals on either side of her sent particularly unpleasant grins at the golden trio. Harry gulped, now glad that Ron had roused him so early- he didn't want to think about what methods the twins would've used to get him out of bed... and all of them he guessed included possible appendage disembowledge. Harry was already revelling in not having to take a potion nightly or have his arm in that bloody sling. He loved Pomfrey, but any time he wasn't in her company was a good time. Plus, he really didn't want to see her over Christmas on account of the Weasley twins. And Ron would probably have a field day if he did!
Shaking himself from these ludicrous thoughts, Harry took a moment to admire the tree. He'd seen many a Christmas tree in his lifetime, the Dursleys having had one every year, but never one so... homely... and unique! Along with the traditional garland, lights, ribbon, and angel were many little odds and ends.
Shifty looking gingerbread men made by little hands of so long ago.
Drawings and photographs surrounded by popcorn and sticky bits of tinsel showcased members of the family.
Handmade, magic-blown baubles.
All these crafts and more, creating a Weasley Christmas tree like no other. Harry could feel his eyes watering as he wondered what Lily and James' Christmas evergreen would've looked like. Had it been this familial and personal? Or had it been like the Dursleys, with meticulous, matching ornaments and garland that looked too perfect to be real?
"Harry? Are you alright?" a small voice asked from beside him, and Harry started when Ginny put a warm hand on his shoulder.
"Yah," he replied gruffly, then cleared his throat. "I'm... ah... fine."
"Shall we open the presents now?" Fred asked, eagerly rubbing his hands together. He cast a greedy look over the presents as if counting how many he had.
"No, Fred! The tradition!" his mother exclaimed, flinging out her hands hysterically. "You can't do anything yet!" Then she was off, rushing out of the room with mission clearly written all over her features.
"What? What tradition?"
"Mum gets so sentimental at Christmas," George sighed, shaking his head hopelessly. Fred nodded.
"You're quite right, dear brother."
"Why?" Harry pressed, inwardly sighing as they purposely avoided the question in a typically Fred and George idiosyncratic way.
Ginny winked as Ron groaned from nearby.
"You'll see. Just remember to duck out of the room when she gets too emotional and starts crying all over one of us."
A/N: To be continued in "Yuletide: Part 2", where we discover what the tradition is, members of the Order come to help the Weasleys celebrate Christmas and Harry receives a surprising and most unusual gift. Also filled with a bit of angst, and not from Harry for once :-D The chapter following that will delve into action once more. Will update soon and the more who review, the faster I update! However, keep in mind I will be gone for a while!
Review!
AngelMoon Girl