| +++ Simple Gifts +++ “'Tis the gift to be simple, 'Tis the gift to be free, 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, It will be in the valley of love and delight. When true simplicity is gained, to bow and to bend, we will not be ashamed To turn, turn, will be our delight, 'Til by turning, turning, we come round right.” “Simple Gifts” A Traditional Shakers Hymn Chaos is truly the only word that can be employed to describe each and every Christmas time at the Burrow each and every year. Mind you, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I practically live out the rest of the long year for the mess of wrapping paper and sea of ribbons that lay forgotten on the shag carpet after Christmas morning. The light scent of holly and cinnamon tickles the nose that enters our home, and bright streamers of metallic green and red assault the eyes that look around. Every room you enter seems to smile at you. But it was only natural that this year’s Christmas would be a little different. Too many things changed this tear when you think about it. What with all the You-Know-Who business getting to everybody, and the precarious situation that my youngest son and his two best friends, Hogwarts decided it best to send home all students. So, naturally, both Harry and Hermione ventured home with Ron, both having no home to go to for the holidays. Harry’s house, well, isn’t quite a house, and Hermione’s parents had been planning to vacation in France, an opportunity that she didn’t want them to pass up. Now, it’s quite loud in our home on Christmas Eve, even when half our family is there. I’ve never quite been a fan of the way our home encases sound and noise, but when your financial situation is as tight as ours, you learn to deal with the little imperfections, and often time the bigger imperfections, that Life deals your way. However, I thought that having eleven people under one quite thin roof was a little… extravagant. But a Weasley woman never steps down from a challenge, and that was a challenge if ever before I saw one. So, I spent three days clearing out each and every nook and cranny within my house, trying to make it as spacious as physically (and magically!) possible. A day later, all hell broke loose. Charlie and Bill were the first ones to arrive. They had rendezvoused somewhere around Norway, and Apparated home from there. Fred and George came home, first toting around two of their friends, girls named Alicia and Angelina. The two girls said their goodbyes a couple hours later, though quite to the dismay of the identical boys. Ginny and Percy came next, Percy dragging along the excessive amount of luggage Ginny had acquired over the years. The final group to show was that containing the three now fifteen year olds, Ron, Hermione, and the famous Harry Potter. All three looked flushed, cold from the obviously long trip they had endured. All three sets of hands help colorful packages which fell to the ground as they trampled inside. I thought it quite odd the way they came inside. Their faces, though outwardly merry, showed signs of fatigue and worry. There wasn’t any way to blame them; what with all the dark business going on at school, and the succession of the Slytherin house from Hogwarts, those three had been up to their ears in controversy. So, being the cautious mother I was, I kindly greeted each and stuffed their presents underneath our tinsel-covered tree. They left me that evening for Ron’s room, none daring to say a word at dinner. Each looked vaguely at the plate of food in front of them, eyes glazed over like ice upon a frozen lake. Occasional glances were caught and swiftly thrown back amongst the three, all faces blushing sparsely as eyes met one another and others at the table laughed mercilessly. Needless to say, dinner went on much longer than expected that night. They headed up to their rooms unusually late that evening. A game of Exploding Snap had kept them up all the while, though not one of the three seemed overly joyed to be playing. Around eleven, Harry tapped Hermione’s shoulder, awakening her from a somewhat fitful sleep. I was talking with Arthur over a spot of tea at that time, our discussion heading to the topic of sleep. I yawned heavily, and coaxed the lot of our foyer up to bed. +++ I wasn’t supposed to be in our living room that night after retiring to my room. Especially not at one thirty in the morning. I, like a good little mother, was supposed to be sleeping upstairs, snoring lightly. However, with an evening such as tonight, I was nursing a bit of a headache. So, not knowing that a story was unfolding in my living room, I threw on a large red robe and headed down our spiraling stairs. Before I was able to lay one foot down on the cold floor of the foyer, I heard two voices piercing the heavily veiled silence. Quickly as I could, I took a seat at the bottom of the stairs, hidden from the direct view of the living room. “… you know very well that Harry can take care of himself,” Hermione was saying. I heard her long violet robes swishing at her feet. “Plus, he would be utterly affronted if you even suggested that he was incapable of doing so!” “Hermione, it’s not like I’m asking you to be his bloody personal body guard or something. I just want you to take some time out with him… you know, show him the ropes to defense against the dark arts and such. You know, self-defense lessons!” “In case you haven’t noticed, Harry’s been to every defense against the dark arts class with us. Or were you really that far in dream land to notice?” Ron smiled, obviously embarrassed. “Look, I just want him to be okay. What with You-Know-Who…” “Voldemort, Ron. Voldemort. Don’t make me give you the same speech I gave mister Malfoy back in third year.” “Voldemort… well, that he’s out to get him. Us too, really, when you think about it long enough.” Hermione sighed. “He’ll be fine Ron. I trust him. And so should you for that matter.” “I trust him. I really do. I just worry a whole lot about him.” Ron answered, inaudibly quiet. His head hung down to his chest. There was a shuffling of clamor. I turned around on my blue-pointed slippers to improve my view of the children. Both teenagers had sat down on our rather ragged leather couch. Even as they sat there, the differences in character traits were undeniable. Ron’s lanky limbs were scattered over the extent of the couch, while Hermione’s body sat rigid in the center of the couch. The flames of the fire framed their faces gently, like water upon the edge of a lake. “Here,” Ron whispered, placing a blue-wrapped package in Hermione’s awaiting hands. She trembled with excitement. “I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but seeing as we’re here and now…” His voice trailed off uneasily. “I just think it would be nice to get this… done with. Now, I mean.” “I think that’s a fabulous idea. I’ll go get mine.” Hermione stood up, dusting off her blue skirt, and picked up her own reddish-brown wrapped package. She smiled, handing it over to Ron and taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Why didn’t you just Summon your present?” Hermione flushed, her hands traveling to the bottom of her skirt. Her fingers nervously twisted the woolen textile. “I dunno. There’s just something about the holidays that makes me like doing things by hand. You know, without magic. I guess it’s just silly tradition… but I love it.” Ron inched closer to her on the couch. His head was practically resting upon her shoulder. I couldn’t help but smirk; it had become painfully obvious to me that my youngest son was completely gone on the Granger girl. “Go ahead, Mione. Open it.” She smiled, and fingered the package. Slowly, and painfully methodically, she unwrapped the blue tissue paper, and pulled out a velvet-covered box. “Oh Ron…” “There’s much more.” Her hands went to the edge of the wooden box. With one fluid motion she pushed the two lips of the box apart, revealing a small silver chain with a large charm attached. “Oh Ron… this is so beautiful,” the brunette girl whispered as she pulled a silver locket from the velvet-encrusted box. “I mean… you didn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.” My son was turning a terrible shade of burgundy by that moment. “Well, I um… wanted to? To get you something really nice, I mean. I mean… well, you know what I mean!” Ron finished heavily, looking down at his twiddling fingers. His left toe was tapping quietly on the wooden floor. “I can’t believe that you would do something like this for me,” Hermione whispered. Her face flushed lightly, as she reached out to grasp Ron’s closest hand. “This is the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me.” “Well… I just want you to know… well, you’re special now. To me, I mean. Not that you weren’t special to me before, but… oh Merlin, this is hard to say…” Hermione’s hand touched his shoulder. His face, if at all possible, flushed even darker vermillion. “I know exactly what you’re saying.” And with that she slipped her arms around Ron’s neck and buried her face in the nape of his neck. A welling started in my heart as I watched the two young teenagers holding one another so awkwardly. I suddenly remembered what it was like to be young and in love again. It seemed like so long ago… being in love, I mean. I still love Arthur; there’s no doubt in my mind of that. But I think I’m past being “in” love with him. Those warm feelings… they subside over the years, depleted by arguments and silly diatribes. Things just get old, they varnish over time. But you have to embrace the love while you can. Silently, I lifted my wand and muttered three Latin words under my breath. Suddenly, a breath of a shiny green plant floated from the tip of my wand to the entrance to the foyer. It giggled mischievously, perhaps knowing what purpose it served or that it was to be the means to the undoing of a controversy too long waited out. It hung itself neatly, lightly falling into view. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m a might bit tired,” Ron whispered lightly, letting go of Hermione. His own present sat forgotten by his side, limp and small. “Plus, you know that Ginny’ll be up at five in the morning to see what dear ol’ Harry got her for Christmas.” “Did he even get her something?” Hermione questioned, her teeth nipping at her bottom lip. “I thought that he only bought stuff for you, me, your parents and…” Hermione’s voice stopped as the green sprig of mistletoe swooped down in front of herself and Ron. It laughed quite piercingly now, infinitesimal black eyes appearing out of the white berries that hung carelessly on the side. “Someone got caught under the mistletoe!” the plant yelped sharply, fluttering about in the air. “Someone has some serious snogging to get done!” Ron looked away for a moment. It wasn’t hard to tell that his face was boiling. After a moment, he stepped back towards Hermione, and took one of her hands in his. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” my son whispered, taking a step closer to Hermione. Both faces caught fire. I smiled lightly at the scene, checking to make sure that I was still hidden from their sight. “It’ll be out little secret,” Hermione whispered, her eyelashes dropping ever so slightly. “But I don’t want to do it if you don’t want to, Ron.” He smiled. “Of course I want to. I… well… I’ve want to for awhile now.” “Me to…” But Hermione had not vocalized herself fast enough. Ron had slanted down and captured her lips with his own. I vaguely heard a gasp escape her lips, and her right hand went to his face. His hand buried itself in her bushy locks. A sigh escaped both pairs of lips. I was then faced with a quandary at that moment. I was assembled behind a pillar in the living room, watching my youngest boy kiss the girl who he so deserved. I know that one can’t really deserve another person, but if ever a person who did, it was Ron. I see him struggle each day; first with his family and then with his friends, where he is seen as the sidekick, the one who stands behind all others. And you know what? He manages to keep up with the paramount of them. The two broke apart tenderly, Hermione’s hand lingering on his cheek. Ron crooked down, and kissed her cheek softly. “Thank you for my present Hermione. It’s the best one I’ve ever gotten.” Her petite hand grasped at his much larger one. Her chocolate eyes traveled to the package that lay upon the couch. “But… Ron, you didn’t even open it!” “I don’t need to. You’re all the present I could ever want.” Before they could see me, I clicked my two fingers together and Apparated from the room with a bit of a grin playing upon my face. The headache I had been tending could most definitely wait. |