𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 111

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
AND ELEVEN
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-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH CHRISTMAS 
DAY ARRIVES

. . .

There seemed to be hardly any time between their arrival at Grimmauld Place and the coming of Christmas Day. After the atrocities that had driven them, minus Hermione of course, back a day earlier than they should have been, and the assurance that Mr Weasley truly was fine and Harry was not being possessed, the inhabitants launched into a full celebration of the holidays. 

They stayed up late to drink hot chocolates as a fire roared in a hearth, below a mantlepiece of holly wreath, and, admittedly, spent more time cleaning than they did anything else, and decorating on top of that. After the conversation with Ginny, Hermione and Ron, Aviana found that Harry was plenty happier than he had been. 

There was no more sulking around, hiding in his room, no more avoiding them all, and instead he threw himself into the festivities with the same gusto that Sirius had. Once again the man of the house expressing the utmost delight at having a full house for the two weeks they had off from school, the both of them - and sometimes Ron and the twins - launching into absolutely awful, off tune renditions of Christmas carols, muggle and magic alike, when they came on the radio. 

Even Aviana, in all her doom and gloom and refusal to clean managed to engage with some of the merriment. Of course, it was a strained attempt at first made by Sirius, who tried to convince her to wear a Santa (some Muggle man who Aviana truly thought was particularly creepy and should not be celebrated in the slightest) hat and then Harry, who somehow had managed to get her up out of her chair and to put up some of the red velvet bows all whilst he and Sirius were singing that Muggle Christmas song again. 

Harry's sway over her could simply not go unnoticed. Ron was snickering behind curved hands to Fred and George at the dinner table that night - a table that Aviana actually joined them at, although she didn't eat - and soon it became known to everyone that they were really, truly dating. It wasn't spoken about, because the glare that Aviana threw at Mrs Weasley upon even the briefest mention was as ferocious as ever, but nonetheless, she seemed somewhat freer, than she had before, more willing to actually sit and talk and help and exist amongst them. 

She had, of course, come to her own conclusions that made her such way, but Harry being there definitely helped. 

And by the time Christmas Eve arrived, spent within the kitchen with a hearty meal and Mundungus's ability to procure seemingly anything - this time, an old Muggle TV that fizzed and crackled amongst all the magic but managed to show the shows that evening - Grimmauld Place was unrecognisable from what it had been. 

The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, once again obtained by Mundungus, and decorated with live fairies that Aviana had scared into behaving, blocked the Black family tree with all it's singes from view; and even the stuffed elf heads in the hallway wore those Santa hats and beards. Aviana, after much complaint and convincing, had also been tasked with the Entrance Hall, seeing as she was seemingly the only one who could deal with the portrait. With much muffled shouting, she had managed to turn the once dim hallway into a much more festive scene; garlands twisted around the bannisters, a second, much smaller Christmas tree upon the circle rug in the middle, the scones glittering gold and, in all it's glory, a embroidered sheet trapped over Mrs Black's portrait. That had produced the most complaining the woman had ever come out with during their time there, and the other occupants had listened, quite amused, as she managed to shut her up once again. 

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed, Ron already awake and halfway through opening his own pile. It didn't take Harry long to start unwrapping his own, unwrapping the homework planner from Hermione that spewed out supposedly encouraging - although most were more than forceful attempts - words to do his homework, first.

Then, a joint present from Sirius and Remus, who had banded together to get an excellent set of books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Uses Against the Dark Arts with superb moving illustrations of counter jinxes and hexes it explored within it's pages, and Harry concluded with be the best help he could have ever asked for with the D.A.. Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet with gangs, that he supposed was meant to work as an anti-theft device but ultimately prevented Harry from putting any money in, and Tonks had gifted him a small, working model of a Firebolt. Ron had got him an enormous box of Bertie Botts Every-Flavour Beans, Mr and Mrs Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper with his initial on the front of a cake tin full of mince pies, and Dobby gave him a truly dreadful painting, that Harry suspected was done by the elf himself. 

Just as he was trying to see whether or not the painting looked better when turned upside down, Fred and George Apparated at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas." George said. "Don't go downstairs for a bit." He added.

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Mum's crying again." Fred replied heavily. "Percy sent back his Christmas jumper."

"Without a note as well." George rolled his eyes. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything..."

"We tried to comfort her," Fred moved to peer over Harry's shoulder at the painting, "told her Percy's nothing more than a humongous pile of rat droppings-" 

"Didn't work." George shook his head, helping himself to a Chocolate Frog. "So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer her up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon."

"What's that supposed to be anyway?" Fred asked, squinting at Dobby's painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."

"It's Harry!" George pointed at the back of the picture. "Says so on the back." 

"Good likeness." Fred grinned. Harry threw the new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor, where it said happily 'If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may do whatever you please!'.

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