'Give us a break, Hermione,' Harry said, dropping into an easy chair by the fire. 'We've been on our feet all day.'
'Yeah,' Ron chimed in, bolstered a bit, 'it's just the start of the holiday. We haven't even had a chance to sit down yet, have we?'
'Ronald Weasley, you get your bottom into your coat and hat,' Hermione replied, tossing Ron's things onto his lap. 'We only get the whole family together once a year anymore, if we're lucky, and I'm not going to let you sit on your bum all night just as if you were at home. Besides,' she added a bit truculently, 'you said on the way here that you thought caroling sounded fun.'
'That was before I knew you were serious,' Ron muttered, climbing to his feet and shrugging on his coat.
'You too,' Ginny smiled, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him out of the chair. 'You can lounge around all Christmas day if you wish. Tonight, we're going to have some fun, whether you like it or not.'
Harry groaned, but allowed Ginny to work his coat onto him. She punched him playfully in the stomach and he grinned, grabbing his scarf. To Ron's and Harry's apparent annoyance, Bill was raring to go, performing scales in the hallway, his hand on his chest. Fleur, dressed as resplendently as her daughter, smiled adoringly at him. As they headed out the door, James heard Uncle Ron mutter to his dad, 'I swear he acts like that as much to spite us as to impress her.'
The night had turned out so perfectly and quintessentially Christmas-like that James wondered if his mum and Aunt Hermione had somehow bewitched it. Fat, silent snowflakes had begun to fall, muffling the distant city sounds and blanketing the grimy walls and sidewalks with sparkling white. Hermione passed out sheets of music, and then arranged everyone so that the youngest were in front and the oldest and tallest were in back. 'If Mum weren't still around,' Ron said to Harry in a low voice, 'I'd swear Hermione was channeling her.' During a practice chorus, Hermione became annoyed at Ted, who insisted on singing amusing variations of the lyrics, to the great delight of Albus and Hugo. Finally satisfied, she led the troupe through the streets surrounding Grimmauld Place, ringing doorbells and directing the choruses. Most of the Muggles who answered their doors stood and listened with something like strained amusement on their faces. Once, an old man with a large hearing aid yelled at them that he didn't support any charities except the Hortense Home for Feral Felines, and then slammed his door.
'McGonagall owes him a Christmas card, then,' Ted said, barely missing a beat.
James waved a hand at Ralph before he could ask. 'Animagus. I'll explain later.'
Christmas morning dawned with dazzling brightness, the sun turning the snow-frosted windows into blinding tableaux. Ralph and James met Albus and Rose on their way down the steps to breakfast.
'It's no use,' Rose said dolefully. 'Mum swears she'll Crucio anyone who tries to open a present before breakfast.'
James blinked. 'Aunt Hermione said that?'
'Well,' answered Albus, 'not in so many words. But she's really in a snit ever since she caught us using a pair of Uncle George's z-ray spectacles on the presents to see what was in them. She just about turned Dementor on him. It was scary!'
'Uncle George is here?' James asked, trotting down the rest of the stairs and heading for the kitchen. 'Excellent!'
'Yeah, but he brought Katie Bell with him,' Albus said, pronouncing the name with his most ingratiatingly snarky voice. Albus didn't so much disapprove of Katie Bell as he disapproved of anyone threatening to alter George Weasley's impish bachelorhood.
As James and Ralph turned the corner into the old kitchen, they heard George's voice saying, 'That's the sort of publicity that has allowed triple W to grow to two locations and become the wizarding world's leading joke shop, you know. You can't turn down a primo showstopper at a broadcast event like the debate. It's all about the spectacle.'
Katie Bell, an attractive woman with long brown hair, stirred her tea. 'You should've heard the way Myron Madrigal described it on the wireless,' she said, stifling a smile.
Ted scowled, then his curiosity got the better of him. 'What'd he say?'
'He called it 'a puerile display of monumental poor taste',' George said proudly, raising his juice glass in a toast.
'That's beautiful!' Ted grinned, clinking his glass to George's.
'James, good to see you!' George said, clapping his juice onto the table and patting the seat next to him. 'Have a seat and tell us how the old alma mater is treating you.'
'Great,' James said, sitting down and grabbing a piece of toast. 'George, this is my friend, Ralph.'
'Oh, we know all about you, don't we?' George said, leaning toward Ralph and tapping the side of his nose. 'Our man on the inside, eh? Infiltrating the slimy underbelly of the Slytherin war machine. Spying and sabotaging left and right, no doubt.'
Ralph rolled his eyes at Ted.
'I didn't say anything,' Ted said primly. 'I happened to mention to him that you were on Team B, way back when we ordered our little surprise package. He figured out the rest on his own when he found out you were here.'
Ralph squirmed. 'Well, that's not really true, you know. I'm just a kid.'
'Never underestimate what a kid can do, Ralphie,' George said seriously.
'That's right,' Katie nodded. 'George and his brother, Fred, caused the best class disruption in Hogwarts history in the middle of the reign of Umbridge the Terrible.'
'Like I said, it's all about the spectacle,' George said.
'With a little revenge thrown in,' Katie said, smiling.
'How dare you even suggest such a thing?'
Ralph and James exchanged looks.
James, Ralph, Ted, and George were the last at the breakfast table. The younger siblings and cousins fairly dragged them from the table, finally getting the entire household together for the opening of the presents.
'Didn't you do like I told you?' George said, laughing as Albus pulled him into the parlor. 'Open the presents in the middle of the night and then re-wrap them again with the Reparo charm?'
'I tried!' Albus replied earnestly. 'I nicked James' wand and practiced on a box of biscuits. Couldn't get it to work! Made no end of a mess. Mum just about thrashed me.'
'You nicked my wand!' James cried, lunging after Albus. 'I'll thrash you myself! Give it back!'
Hooting, Albus darted away with James in pursuit.
There was much yelling and shredding of paper, and James couldn't help thinking that Christmas at Grimmauld Place probably wasn't much different than Zane's description of his family Christmas in the States, hinkypunks and all. When the younger Weasleys and Potters had all opened their presents and scampered off to enjoy them, the rest of the gifts were opened with a bit more reserve. Harry had gotten Ginny an unusual new cauldron, which she unwrapped and stared at rather blankly.
'It's a Conjure-Pot,' he explained, a little defensively. 'It makes dinner a snap! You just throw in a few ingredients each morning, whatever you have left lying around the cupboard. It doesn't matter what. The Conjure- Pot figures out the best dish to make with it, prepares it, and cooks it up during the day. We all come home at night
