December 23: 1986

2 days until Christmas…

"Always pick quantity over quality," Fred intoned.

George shoved him. "That's why our tree last year crashed halfway to Christmas, remember?"

"That was the squirrel's fault, not mine!" Fred protested.

"Boys," Mrs. Weasley warned. "Be good."

"I think this one will do, Father," Percy said, singling out a fir tree a few yards away. Average height, average size, heck, average color.

"Bor-ing," Fred sang. "Everyone's tree looks like that."

"Too big?" Bill asked, standing next to a bushy pine.

"Definitely," six-year-old Ron piped up.

Mr. Weasley shouldered his axe. "Whichever one you want, you'd better choose soon. Your little sister's about to freeze to death."

"Am not!" Ginny lied, quickly shrugging her mother's arm off her shoulder. "Oh! That one!"

Her little mittened hand slid out of her coat pocket and pointed at a rounded cone-shaped evergreen.

"All in favor?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Everyone raised their hands, though Percy did so reluctantly.

"Looks like we've found our tree."

"Go run and get the box of tinsel down from the attic, Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as they came back to the Burrow, "Fred, George, you two start making popcorn garlands."

"But, mum," Fred complained. "Why can't I go get the ornaments instead?"

"Go help your brothers."

"Mum, is this it?" Ron asked, walking downstairs with an oversize box overflowing with sparkly silver decorations.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, honey."

"You're welcome," Ron chirped. He ran to give the box to his mother and tripped over Fred's popcorn decoration. It snapped and sent kernels flying in all directions.

"Oh, Fred, honestly!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded.

"It wasn't my fault!" Fred insisted. "You always take Ron's side!"

Ron clutched his beat up teddy bear to his chest and hid behind his mother.

"Now, Fred, you know that isn't true," Mr. Weasley interjected from across the room, making paper streamers erupt out of his wand.

"Yes, it is!" Fred cried. "I hate all of you! Especially you!" He shouted at Ron.

Ron shrank behind Mrs. Weasley's apron.

Suddenly he screamed and dropped his stuffed bear, which had become a spider the size of a small dog.

Mrs. Weasley pulled her wand out of her pocket. "Reverso incantant!" The spider disappeared and the bear lay on the floor smiling with its lopsidedly sewn mouth.

"I'm sorry, Ron." Fred blurted after a stretching silence.

Ron burst into tears and ran upstairs.

And every Christmas after that was never the same.