7.4 Christmas at the Burrow

It wasn't really Christmas if things weren't completely madcap, Rose decided. Spending the holiday together was a must for the entire Weasley family, and although her mother insisted they spend some time over the break with the Granger grandparents, it wasn't until they showed up at the Burrow on Christmas Eve morning that it really felt like Christmas. The next hours were spent stuffing their faces from the platters that seemed to be continually refilling themselves on every groaning surface in the kitchen, singing carols loudly along with the badly out of tune piano that Mum always found room to pack, pick-up Quidditch matches in the muddy front yard and games of tag around the tents in the backyard, and helping to decorate the Christmas tree that her Gramps levitated down the hillside and into the living room. Rox, Lucy, and Lily liked to compete to find which room Vic and Teddy were snogging in at any given moment, although the game was less entertaining this year with Uncle Percy's family absent. Molly had somehow managed to get engaged back in August, and that particular corner of the Weasley clan was spending the holiday with Molly's fiancee and his family. The game wasn't quite the same without Lucy's horrified shriek every time they managed to find the long-engaged couple hiding somewhere upstairs. Uncle Charlie was also missing this Christmas, although his brown paper wrapped gifts were stacked neatly under the tree, covered in colorful owl post stamps. He seldom made it home for holidays; this year he was hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu with his new boyfriend Deiter, a fellow dragon tamer with wanderlust as strong as Charlie's, it seemed.


Christmas Day was even better; the adults liked to sleep in, leaving Rose and her cousins a lazy morning in which the only responsibilities were to help Gram make breakfast and start on Christmas dinner. Considering the fact that Gram refused assistance of any kind in the kitchen, it left the cousins free until nearly lunchtime. Rose holed up with Al in the living room, playing Wizarding chess and guarding the tree from Hugo, who made it his personal mission to swap out the gift tags in order to create mayhem and to tie live mice to the branches of the Christmas tree with bits of twine for Rox and Lily to discover later while handing out gifts.


Much to Hugo's disappointment, he was denied access to the tree, and the entire family squeezed into the living room after dinner to swap gifts and suffer through Aunt Angelina's famously horrible egg nog. It was the only dish she was allowed to prepare for the holiday, and everyone politely took a glass that they didn't drink. Rox and Lily distributed the first round of gifts, uniformly squashy packages in tissue paper that went to everyone in the room and contained this Christmas' collection of sweaters from Gram. She'd taken to knitting them in family sets, meaning that both Hugo and Rose had plummy maroon sweaters to pull on over their heads before they continued into the pile of gifts slowly being deposited around their feet.


It was a surprisingly good haul for Rose, who normally got a number of books or new school supplies when her family was at a loss for what else to get her. There were still several books, although they seemed tailored to her interests this time around: several fascinating tomes on Wizarding history and an ancient book full of ghost stories from her mother, a daring dress in a shade of pink Rose didn't even know she could wear but that Vic and Aunt Fleur claimed was absolutely her color, and a new set of more durable Wizarding chess pieces from Uncle Harry and Aunt Gin. Her father grumbled under his breath about the scandalous pink dress as he folded himself clumsily on the floor between Rose and Hugo, but his repressed excitement made it clear to Rose that she was about to get A Major Gift from him.


"Well. I finally talked your mother into it..."


"Ron!" Mum laughed and tousled his hair. "It was more the other way around."


"You're interrupting my speech, woman. I worked on this for hours. Minutes, even. Now where was... Oh, yes. I told her, I said 'Wife, our Rosie isn't a little girl anymore and it's high time she took on a little bit of responsibility. The child is just flighty. And we wouldn't let her have that kitten when she made prefect that she wanted because Pig looks so much like a little turkey that he's like to get eaten, but it isn't really fair when she's about to come of age...'" The rest of his rambling speech was choked out of him as Rose shrieked and pounced, smooshing him against the sofa to the delight of Hugo and Mum. It had been a little sore spot back when she'd made prefect, the tiniest of pebbles in her shoe when she was otherwise inclined to be thrilled. Her parents offered to buy her an owl, but Rose absolutely wanted a cat of her own. When they couldn't convince her that having a second cat in the house with a very territorial and quite ancient Crookshanks and the hyperactive Pig was a dangerous combination, they'd put her off with vague promises for later.


Rose had almost given up hope of ever seeing her cat, and now her father was removing a mewling kitten from his pocket. Hugo exclaimed over how ugly it was, but Rose thought the darling thing was just wonderful - all squashed face and big eyes and tufts of orange and white fur growing in an unruly mane around her face. Rose ignored the rest of the gift giving in favor of nuzzling the kitten, in spite of the fact that the cat wasn't particularly interested in snuggling at the moment. After a temperamental swipe at her cheek, Rose let the kitten down and returned to the dwindling pile of gifts. Another few books were unwrapped, dull texts that Uncle Percy supposed would help her someday find a job at the Ministry like Molly had, and Rose was politely thanking her Gramps for the rather thick one on home plumbing when she realized the new kitten was missing.


"Oh! Where did it...?" Rose crawled nearly under the Christmas tree in pursuit of her missing pet. The as-yet-unnamed kitten stood on a simply wrapped box and hissed up into the branches where it had apparently found the only mouse Hugo had managed to sneak into the Christmas tree. Both lost gift and kitten were rescued from the depths of Christmas obscurity; it turned out the lost gift was Rose's as well, although she had lost track and couldn't remember whose gift she had not yet opened. Distractedly, she unwrapped the gift as the tabby kitten stalked Hugo's untied shoelaces with ferocious intention.


"What the hell?" Her father's voice washed over Rose, disrupting the warm pleasure she felt at watching her kitten at play. Before she had a chance to realize what she held, Ron Weasley had snatched the recently unwrapped gift from Rose's hands and called Uncle Harry over to confer with him about it. From what little Rose could see, the box had contained a finely wrought silver blade, although the detail work was no longer visible. She turned the empty box over in her hands thoughtfully, but it was unmarked and unsigned. Wherever the gift came from, it was anonymous. Her name on the tag was written in a precise script, vaguely familiar but not one she could recall right off.


"It's for Potions," Rose suggested, and the words triggered a dim recollection of holding a similar knife in her hands earlier in the term. Hadn't that been Potions class? Why else would someone have loaned her a blade? "Please. It's mine."


"Who sent you this gift, Rosie?" Her father's temper wavered on the brink, his face growing the same shade as his hair as he snatched the box from her hands and turned it over and over. "Where did it come from?"


"I don't know." She saw Al give her an odd look, but Rose wasn't being purposefully obtuse. She honestly had no clue why anyone would send her a knife, and even Rose could see that to some, it might seem like an ominous thing to find under the Christmas tree. Practically threatening. She wasn't worried, though. In fact, there was a warm fluttering feeling behind her ribcage, and Rose desperately wanted to have the knife back again. "Can I have it back, please?"


"We'll run some tests on it," Uncle Harry murmured to her father, and Rose thought they were ignoring her on purpose until he held it up for her perusal. "Do you recognize it, Rose?"


She reached to touch the knife, but it was moved out of her reach until her hands dropped back to her sides again. The ornate hilt was finely filigreed around a raccoon with glinting gemstone eyes appearing within the twists of silver. "That's my patronus," she murmured, pointing at the raccoon's glinting snout before her hand fell again. Her words sounded rote, although she couldn't place them. "You can find similar knives at Borgin and Burkes."


“Borgin and…” Her father snatched at the knife, and Rose saw it disappear from view again as Uncle Harry and her father once again conferred in low tones. It was no use - she wasn’t getting the blade back tonight, and she might not even have it back before leaving again on the Hogwarts Express.


The family split up at that point, some to try on new clothes or test out new Quidditch gear and others to dump out the remaining glasses of egg nog and fill another plate of Christmas cookies. Rose gathered her kitten and other gifts, heading for the tent in the backyard where she would sleep in a few hours time. Al fell in beside her in the hallway.


“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m going to tell them,” he fell silent until they were through the kitchen and out the back door in order to prevent Gram and Lily from overhearing them, but he continued once they were out in the chilly night air. The sun had recently set, and the backyard took on a dim bluish light from the moon reflecting off the slushy piles of melting snow. “It would be better for them to know and be upset he's sending you gifts then for them not to know and try to investigate.”


“What are you talking about?” Rose stepped around mound of dirty snow, and they ducked into her tent together. It was a smaller model tent that seemed rustic in comparison to the double decker Uncle Percy insisted on bringing each year, but there was plenty of room for Rose and Hugo and whoever decided to crash with them when their parents opted to sleep inside the Burrow.


Rose curled up on the sagging sofa and set her kitten on the floor. She would need to spend time looking for an appropriate name, although she was certain she’d jotted some lists in her journal back when she had first asked for the cat. It was a shame she’d left her journal behind at Hogwarts, although it had seemed prudent considering how often Lily was in and out of the tents.


“I’m talking about the knife you got,” Al clarified. He looked troubled, which was a marked improvement over sulky, but it still seemed at odds with Christmas joy. Surely the mountain of gifts tucked into his arms should elicit at least a small smile.


“They wouldn’t even let me touch it.” Rose sighed as she arranged her new books into piles based on subject matter, then rearranged them alphabetically, then again chronologically by publication date. “Was it from you?”


“Was it from me!” Al draped himself over the arm of the sofa in move that was very Lily-dramatic, although it was hard for him to look too cross when Rose’s new kitten immediately began to climb him like a ladder. “Don’t you remember our first Potions lesson?”


“Potions?” Rose twirled a lock of hair violently as a foggy memory struggled to the surface. “It’s from Malfoy, do you think?”


“Rosie.” Al plucked the kitten from his chest so he could roll into a seated position next to her. It bothered her that his tone indicated she was feigning ignorance, but it wasn’t as if she should be expected to remember every conversation she’d ever had in Potions class. “I don’t like this. He’s taking Jayne on dates, and he sent you a Christmas gift. He probably sent one to Jayne as well. What do you suppose his angle is?”


“Why shouldn’t he send Jayne a gift? They’re friends.” More than ever, Rose wished for a chance to see her new knife, as if holding it in her hands and studying the fine detailwork would provide clues into why Malfoy might send her a gift. Could it actually be from him? He’d been a bit scornful of her knife, true, but he scorned a lot of things about her. And how could he possibly know about her patronus?


“Friends don’t go on dates. Plus, he sent you a gift too. Are you friends as well?”


“Friends could, I suppose. A date is just the socially accepted name for an interaction between two members of the opposite sex.”


“No,” Al shook his head at her, and Rose noted that his hair had gotten a bit long on the sides and in the back. “You and I aren’t on a date right now. That would be strange.”


True, but she refused to budge on this point. Jayne enjoyed Malfoy’s company, but it wasn’t developing into a romantic entanglement that would leave someone wounded. “Don’t worry, Al. Jayne won’t get hurt. I’m taking care of her.”


“And no one else will get hurt either?” Again, Rose felt there were depths beyond what Al was saying that she was unable to plumb.


“Who? Malfoy? He has dozens of girls to assuage any hurt he feels over Jayne. No one needs to take care of Malfoy.” Al grunted in response, and Rose wasn’t sure if he agreed with her or not. “If you’re so worried about him, why don’t you check on him after the hols? I’m sure Jayne can set up a nice outing for the two of you.”


The next day was Boxing Day, and, although Uncle Bill’s family left early for home, the Burrow was host to Jayne and her older brother Alex by lunchtime. Alex Wood had graduated from Hogwarts the year before and was currently a reserve player for the Tutshill Tornados. He was immediately kidnapped by James and Fred upon arrival, and even Al tagged along for the Quidditch game being planned in the backyard. Although Jayne normally wanted to play, she seated herself on the stoop with Rose and allowed herself to be lead through a loud discussion about what it was like to date Scorpius Malfoy, much to the displeasure of any player that drifted close enough to listen - including Rose’s father and Uncle George. Almost against her will, Lily circled closer and closer, a little satellite that could not help but be drawn into the gravity of Jayne’s dating life, and Rose was happy to give over control of the conversation to her domineering little cousin.


"Did you hold his hand?"


"Yes."


"Did you kiss him?"


"No, but he said I could."


Lily's little nose wrinkled at that. "Did he ask about me?"


"Should he have?"


"I'm going to steal him from you."


"And that's enough fun for now," Rose interjected, sharing an amused look with Jayne. Not only did she suspect that Jayne wouldn't mind in the least having Malfoy stolen from her, but she knew she and Jayne were in complete agreement that Lily was about as interesting to the Slytherin boy as a billywig infestation. Fortunately, Lily got bored easily, and when their subject matter was neither herself or the boy she intended to snag, she dismissed them and returned to ogling Jayne's brother closer to the action. Alex Wood was handsome, although his complete devotion to the sport of Quidditch had ended Rose's early crush on him sooner rather than later.


"We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up again in February. Right before Valentine's Day," Jayne pulled Rose's new kitten from where she climbed her sweater with little sharp claws, although the beast immediately set to climbing again. Rose had spent hours pouring over books of famous women in history to find the perfect name before finally settling on Boadicea. Her cat was obviously a little warrior queen. Much to Rose's displeasure, Hugo rechristened her 'Bodey' over breakfast, and the nickname was sticking.


"Are you going with Malfoy?" Rose forced herself to watch the Quidditch being played rather than Jayne, noting that Al was badly out of position and that Lily was trying to coax Alex into giving her a ride on his racing broom. She was so observant, but she couldn't understand what Jayne and Malfoy were doing together. Was it really only a friendship in development?


"Haven't we played that out?" Jayne dropped her voice to be sure the hovering players wouldn't overhear their conversation. "It made James crazy, sure, but he hasn't asked me to Hogsmeade. He hasn't done anything. He got about as annoyed as if Malfoy was dating you, but it wasn't... the right kind of jealousy."


Rose squirmed a bit at the conversation. "I don't know how to make him feel the right kind of jealousy. I can put all the pieces into place, but I can't make them move on their own."


"Yeah." Jayne leaned back on her elbows, eyes tracking the game occurring in the air over their heads. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and there was still a residual self-possession in her movements that Rose had to ruefully acknowledge was a result of Malfoy's attentions. She really did owe him. "He just doesn't want me like that."


"Someone will." It was impossible to believe that Jayne had found herself in this very good place in her life and that no one else noticed it. "I bet loads of boys ask you to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. I can find you a date."


Jayne laughed, and her confidence seemed to wear a bit around the edges. If dating Malfoy had improved her self-worth, then knowing that Rose had set it up did the opposite. "You know? I think I'll do it myself this time around. Maybe I should be looking for a date for you."


Rose colored uncomfortably and continued to shift in her seat. "I don't..."


"Date. Yes. I know. Would you play Quidditch if I asked nicely?


"Only for you, Jayney." Rose dusted herself off and resigned herself to spending the rest of the day on a broom.