All a Dream
Chapter 24
Erin pushed past Mae and Stew to get at the window as soon as she saw Platform 9.75 slide into view. She pressed her face up against the glass, looking for Mum and Dad. Harry was sitting by the window, and in his heart of hearts knew he wanted to copy Erin. But, he thought, I'm really too old for that. Besides, I can't fit my face beside hers in the window. And then the train came to a complete stop. Harry couldn't see his parents through the crowd of people, but Nigel was visible, only a foot or so from the side of the train. There was definitely something different about the nine-year-old, but he was jumping up and down so enthusiastically that Harry couldn't quite tell what the change was.
Once Mae, Harry, Drew and Stew were outside, Nigel ran over to them. "You're home, you're home, you're home!" he exclaimed over and over as he hugged each person in turn. It was then that Harry could see the difference: Nigel had acquired glasses. They weren't round like Harry's, but kind of like rounded off rectangles. The frames were really quite thick. Probably so that they won't break so easily, Harry thought.
Nigel herded his brothers and sisters and Drew to where Lily was standing beside James. When the adults saw the kids emerging out of the crowd they all smiled, and Lily ran forward to hug her children (Drew included). "Oh, it's so wonderful to have you back," she said.
.:. :.: .:.
The fire in the Potter's living room turned bright green. Harry, who had been home for one day exactly, jumped in surprise at the familiar voice that floated out of the fire.
"Good Lillejulaften to all Potters and Collins in this residence!" shouted Dave Olson, his Swedish accent coming more into play as he progressed through the greeting. "This is the Potter residence, right? I haven't gone through the network wrong?"
"Yeah, Dave, this is Harry, come on in."
And Dave did, a grand smile on his face. In his hands was a lump of an unknown substance, wrapped in tinfoil. "My mother overdid the cooking this year. So here's some pudding for you guys."
Harry took the sweet-smelling pudding from Dave. "Hey, thanks. You didn't have to do this, you know."
"Yeah, I did," Dave answered. "When I said my mom cooked too much this year that was an understatement. There are no more flat surfaces to bake on anymore, so my mom, and the rest of the women in our family for that matter, had to give up baking altogether. Thank goodness."
Harry laughed. "So do you have your family staying for Christmas?"
"Yep. And they all speak Swedish; I now have to think to speak English properly, I have to speak so much Swedish."
Stew and Drew, who had just walked into the room, then laughed. "Hey, Dave," Drew greeted him. "Ooh, is that the famous Grandma Olson's Christmas Pudding I smell?"
"Yes, yes it is," replied David with a smile as Stew and Drew grabbed the tinfoil-wrapped pudding from Harry's hands ("Steal!") and ran to the dining room.
.:. :.: .:.
It was Christmas Eve, and the Potter clan stood in a line in front of the fire. This year, the "Grand Christmas Eve Potluck of Maintaining Good Relations between Members of the Order" (GCEPMGRFMO for short) would be held at Sirius and Regulus' place in Wales. Harry realized that, though he had seen Sirius a lot over the summer holidays, he had never been to Sirius' house; Sirius had always been the one to come over to the Potters'. He wondered what the house would look like, and if it would fit everyone.
Stew and Mae had told him on the train ride of just how big this feast could be. It had a long history of having too many people at once, but also a history of being the most fun event of the year.
The first person to step into the fire was James. Then went Lily, Stew and Nigel. Then it was Harry's turn. He threw in more Floo Powder, and said "23 Castell Ave.", attempting to enunciate every syllable. And he was thrown into a wall in a very narrow hallway.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," Regulus greeted in a timid baritone voice.
A/N: There. My one and a half month hiatus from this fic is over.
The street name is spelled correctly. It's just Welsh.
Oh! And when Drew and stew yell "Steal!", I took that from my friend. Whenever she takes something from us, she yells "Steal!" first. We've always joked that she would be a horrible theif.
And I couldn't resist the Lillejulaften (which means "Litlle Christmas Eve") greeting from Dave. Its very important in my very Swedish family. So is the Christmas Pudding, which is actually more of a cake. We get as many people as possible to help bake the cake because then it supposedly tastes better. I wouldn't know, because I've only had it once (my Grandma usually doesn't have enough time/energy to make it), so I haven't had any other cake to compare it to.
I hope that the next chapter is longer.
And please review! ::puppy eyes::
