** Fic: Thy Leaves Are So Unchanging ** for Everyone
Title: Thy Leaves Are So Unchanging
Author: flaminia_x
Rating: G
Character(s): The entire Weasley clan!
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: I love writing the occasional Weasley genfic and the scenario just grabbed me by the seat of my pants and wouldn't let me go til I wrote this. Happy Holidays!
Arthur whistled tunelessly as he opened the attic door. ″Molly,″ he called, ″where did you say it was again?″
″Oh, Arthur,″ she said, hurrying out of the bedroom with her dust cloth, ″you ask the same question every year. You know it's in the corner.″
″I know, dear,″ he said jovially. ″I just wanted to see your face, that's all.″
″Oh, you,″ she said, a blush stealing over her cheeks. ″No time for flirting. The children will be here this afternoon! We've got to get everything ready! Shoo, shoo!″ She hurried down the stairs to the kitchen to begin the Christmas Eve feast.
″Yes, dear,″ he teased. Peeking his head up to the top of the attic stair, he whispered a quiet Lumos and waved the faint light around. Spying the ancient tree in the corner, right where Molly said it would be, of course, he extinguished his light and Levitated the tree toward the stair.
″Be careful, Arthur, you know you can't shrink it again-that poor tree would never survive it,″ Molly called from downstairs.
Arthur mimicked her every word, knowing full well that she couldn't see him, and grinned fondly. She says the same thing every year, the old girl, he thought to himself. He backed down the stair, carefully maneuvering the old tree down to the main floor, then closed the staircase.
″We're on our way down, Molly,″ he called, gently wafting the tree down the stairs ahead of him and sending it to rest in its traditional corner in the living room.
Molly came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands, and walked over to stand next to him. ″Oh, Arthur, look at it,″ she said with delight, wrapping one arm around his waist. ″It looks just as good as last year.″
″Well, it ought to,″ he chuckled. ″That tree is hundreds of years old. If we didn't use those Preservation charms every year, it'd have been dust before you were even a twinkle in your parents' eyes.″
″Well, let's just be thankful Fred and George never set fire to it,″ Molly sighed. ″Though they did try. Oh, did they try. Now, can you handle the decorations by yourself, so I can finish dinner?″
″Molly, I have every confidence in my ability to not harm the tree if you leave me to the decorations,″ he grinned. ″Go on with you, before I fall victim to your womanly charms.″
″Tease,″ she blushed again, and bustled off to the kitchen.
Carefully, almost reverently, Arthur opened the lid to the box of ornaments that the Weasley clan, and the Prewetts before them, had used for generations upon generations. Some of these ornaments may have even dated back to the time of the Founders, or so the family legends said, though Arthur had always thought privately that they were no more than three hundred years old at best. Still, they meant the world to Molly, and therefore to him as well, so he always handled them with the most delicate of touches. With a few flicks of his wand and one hasty catch that Ginny herself, Quidditch captain extraordinaire that she was, would have been most proud of, he had the ornaments placed on the tree, the soft white glow of fairy lights surrounding it.
Arthur stood back for a few moments, admiring the peacefulness and tranquility of the scene in front of him, knowing full well that it would soon be shattered by the mayhem of generations of family. Sure enough, seconds later, the whoosh of the Floo announced the first of the clan to arrive.
″Grampa Weaswey!″ little Lily shrieked, hurling herself toward Arthur and affixing herself to his leg.
″Lily, darling, be polite,″ Ginny admonished as she followed behind her daughter, holding Albus's hand and shooing James in front of her. ″Harry's right behind me with all the presents. Can we set them under the tree yet?″
″Sure, darling,″ Arthur said, giving her a quick hug and kiss, then turning his attentions to the boys, who at their ages were a bit more reticent than their younger sister. ″Just mind the ornaments.″
″I know, Dad,″ she said with a smile, gazing fondly at the tree, looking it over until her eyes lit on a small green bauble with a tiny chip out of one side. That one, the only green one on the tree, had been her favorite since she was old enough to crawl to the tree and look for it.
″Hello, Arthur,″ Harry said, carrying a pouch of shrunken presents over one shoulder and reaching out with his other hand to grab Arthur into a warm embrace. A silently grinning Teddy hung slightly behind him. ″Alright to set these out?″
″Sure, go ahead,″ Arthur replied.
″Just mind the ornaments,″ Ginny said, beating her father to the punch with a grin.
″Of course,″ Harry said. Walking over to the tree, he gave his wife a quick squeeze, then set the bag on the floor, enlarging each gift as he took it out. When he was finished, he looked up at the tree with something akin to wonder. He'd never seen a real Christmas tree before this one. Well, there was the fake one, at the Dursleys' all those years ago, but that didn't count as there had never been anything for him under it. And the ones at Hogwarts, beautiful as they were, were for everyone, not just for him. But looking at this tree, here at the Burrow, always brought him back to the first Christmas he had ever been invited here to spend with Ron. Then, as now, he thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
″Is that my Lily?″ Molly called, hurrying out from the kitchen. ″Oh, it is! And James and Albus, and Teddy, gracious me, and hello to you too, Harry, dear, and Ginny, come here and let me look at you. Oh, it's so good to see you all! And Arthur-oh, what a lovely job you've done. Stunning! Would you be a love and set out our own gifts, too, while I finish the bread?″
Arthur gave her a wink and went off to get their own stack of gifts from the hall closet. But before he could get out of the living room, the Floo whooshed again. ″Grampa!″ Roxanne and Victoire called together.
″Hi, Dad,″ Bill said as he came through, carrying baby Louis. ″George and Angelica and Fleur and I all decided to come over together. Hope that's alright! The ladies were bonding over non-alcoholic punch.″
Sure enough, two very pregnant ladies came waddling through the Floo, one after the other, George right behind them. Angelica was due with a little boy next month, and Fleur herself only three weeks after that, so they had been spending quite a bit of time together ″nesting,″ as Bill and George teased them.
″Bill!″ Arthur cried, mission for gifts all but forgotten. ″How good to see you, son. How are you feeling? Good? Give me that baby, there, and make yourself company.″
Taking Louis from his son's arms, he deftly threw a cloth over one shoulder and stuck a practiced finger in the teething little one's mouth. ″Your mother's in the kitchen; why don't you go and let her know you all have arrived already?″
″Sure, Dad,″ Bill said, taking a second to stare over at the tree. ″Looks good-I see no one's set it on fire yet?″
″Very funny,″ Arthur joked. ″Don't let any of these children hear you say that, or they'll be all over themselves to be the first to top your brothers in a prank.″
Bill laughed, gazing at it fondly. He remembered well the first time as a boy when he had been allowed to Levitate the star to the top. He had practiced for weeks to get the spell just right, just so that he'd be able to do it that Christmas, and he grinned as he remembered the look of absolute pride on his parents' faces when he did it perfectly. The next year it had been Charlie's turn, but it was alright. He didn't need to do it again. That same star was still there on the tree, slightly bent from the year that Ginny dropped it, but otherwise it still seemed magical. Turning with a sigh, he went into the kitchen to greet his mother.
George made his way over to Arthur and Louis, keeping one eye on Roxanne so that Angelica could relax with the family for a while. ″Happy Christmas, Dad,″ he said softly, unwilling to startle the baby.
″Oh, George,″ Arthur said, gently rocking Louis in his arms. ″How are you, son?″
″Pretty well, all things considered,″ George said, smiling over at Angelica. ″How about yourself?″
″Can't complain,″ Arthur said. ″Happy to have everyone here for the hols. Your mum is in the kitchen, so don't forget to go let her know you and the brood are here.″
″Sure, Dad,″ George said, clapping Arthur on the back. As he turned to leave the room, he stopped, staring at the tree. Hastily, he scanned the tree until he found them-two matching blue ornaments shaped like Christmas crackers. Ever since he could remember, they had always hung side by side, almost touching. He breathed a small sigh of relief, finding them together off to the left side near the top. With a small, secret smile, he left in search of his mother.
The Floo whooshed again, sending Ron and Hermione and their two little ones, Hugo and Rose, tumbling into the living room. ″Uncle Harry! Grampa! Aunt Fleur!″ the two cried, unsure who to greet first and tripping over each other to be the first to hug every relative in the room.
″Hey, guys,″ Angelica said with a smile, holding open her arms to hug them both at the same time. Fleur did the same, murmuring to each of them in French and then sending them off to hug Arthur with pats to their bottoms.
Ron and Hermione greeted everyone with waves and smiles and, to those they could actually get to through the swarming mass of children, with hugs and handshakes. Once Albus and James ran off, chasing a shrieking Roxanne down the hallway, Lily toddling quickly after, the couple finally broke through to sit down on the couch near their sisters-in-law. Ron smiled, listening to Hermione and the others exchange girl talk, as they called, it, and his attention drifted to the tree. His eyes drifted aimlessly across the tree, taking in its familiarity, letting it wash over him. He chuckled silently to himself, remembering one year when he had almost managed to convince Ginny that climbing it would help her learn to fly faster, and another when goofing off with Fred and George he had almost knocked the entire thing over. But mostly he remembered countless days as a child, laying on his back under the tree and staring up through the branches, looking at the way the fairy lights glinting off of the ornaments made him feel like he was in some other world, and wondering if that would be what Hogwarts looked like when he was finally old enough to attend. Looking down, he saw Teddy, Hugo and Victoire laying side by side underneath the tree, pointing and whispering excitedly, and he smiled.
″Oi, it's almost five,″ Bill said, walking back into the living room. ″When's Charlie supposed to get here?″
″His Portkey will drop him off in ten minutes,″ Arthur said, handing Louis back over to his father with a kiss. ″Romanian government is very regulated. Too bad they don't have the same restrictions on Muggle artefacts … would love to spend some time over there if I ever get the chance …″
″Come to the kitchen, everyone,″ Molly called from the doorway. ″By the time we all get situated, Charlie will be here, and the food's almost ready!″
″Alright, you two,″ Hermione called to her children. ″Let's go wash our hands first.″
Amidst the chatter and hugs and greetings and calls for various children, everyone managed to find their way to the dining room, anxious for dinner. Just as the last child had been shepherded out of the room, Charlie appeared by the Floo. He looked around excitedly and, at seeing an empty room, realized everyone must have made their way to the table already. He grinned, rubbing his rumbling stomach, which was more than ready for some of his mum's home cooking. He added his pile of presents to the ever-growing stack beneath the tree, then stopped and stared. No matter how beautiful the forests in Romania, this was still his favorite tree. He touched one small silver ornament gently with the tip of one finger. His mum didn't realize, but he had had his first earring fashioned after this ornament, which had always drawn his attention when he was younger. He didn't quite know why; it had just resonated with him. Smiling, he walked toward the dining room, laughing out loud when he was greeted with a chorus of ″Charlie!″
When dinner was finished, dishes done, sleeping children carted off by tired, happy parents, and the last gift placed under the tree to await everyone's return tomorrow morning, Arthur and Molly stood arm in arm in their living room.
″Well, Mollywobbles?″ Arthur said quietly. ″Was today a success?″
″Oh, yes,″ she said. ″So good to have the house full again. It does get so empty most of the time. And Arthur, you did a lovely job-this tree does look good, doesn't it?″
″Looks the same as every year, dear,″ he replied.
″Now, now, it hasn't looked the same every year,″ Molly said. ″Do you remember the year that you gave me this?″ She walked over to the tree and gently stroked a small interlocking set of glass rings with a finger.
″How could I forget? That was the year I made the best decision of my life, and asked you to marry me,″ Arthur said, walking over to join her. ″How about this one, hmm?″ He pointed to a small porcelain baby rattle.
″Oh my, yes,″ Molly said wistfully. ″I had you unwrap that on Christmas morning to tell you we were expecting Bill.″
″And what a surprise that was!″ Arthur said, chuckling. ″But one of the best ones of my life.″
He reached out a finger and touched the tip of one branch. ″I didn't quite understand it when you said that Christmas wasn't Christmas without this tree, but over the years, I've come to understand just what you mean.″
Molly smiled and hugged her husband tight, and without a word, they turned and walked slowly to their bedroom, hand in hand.
Behind them in the now empty room, the ancient tree stood just a bit taller, a bit prouder, in its corner, and set about its sacred duty to keep watch over the family til morning.
Author: flaminia_x
Rating: G
Character(s): The entire Weasley clan!
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: I love writing the occasional Weasley genfic and the scenario just grabbed me by the seat of my pants and wouldn't let me go til I wrote this. Happy Holidays!
Arthur whistled tunelessly as he opened the attic door. ″Molly,″ he called, ″where did you say it was again?″
″Oh, Arthur,″ she said, hurrying out of the bedroom with her dust cloth, ″you ask the same question every year. You know it's in the corner.″
″I know, dear,″ he said jovially. ″I just wanted to see your face, that's all.″
″Oh, you,″ she said, a blush stealing over her cheeks. ″No time for flirting. The children will be here this afternoon! We've got to get everything ready! Shoo, shoo!″ She hurried down the stairs to the kitchen to begin the Christmas Eve feast.
″Yes, dear,″ he teased. Peeking his head up to the top of the attic stair, he whispered a quiet Lumos and waved the faint light around. Spying the ancient tree in the corner, right where Molly said it would be, of course, he extinguished his light and Levitated the tree toward the stair.
″Be careful, Arthur, you know you can't shrink it again-that poor tree would never survive it,″ Molly called from downstairs.
Arthur mimicked her every word, knowing full well that she couldn't see him, and grinned fondly. She says the same thing every year, the old girl, he thought to himself. He backed down the stair, carefully maneuvering the old tree down to the main floor, then closed the staircase.
″We're on our way down, Molly,″ he called, gently wafting the tree down the stairs ahead of him and sending it to rest in its traditional corner in the living room.
Molly came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands, and walked over to stand next to him. ″Oh, Arthur, look at it,″ she said with delight, wrapping one arm around his waist. ″It looks just as good as last year.″
″Well, it ought to,″ he chuckled. ″That tree is hundreds of years old. If we didn't use those Preservation charms every year, it'd have been dust before you were even a twinkle in your parents' eyes.″
″Well, let's just be thankful Fred and George never set fire to it,″ Molly sighed. ″Though they did try. Oh, did they try. Now, can you handle the decorations by yourself, so I can finish dinner?″
″Molly, I have every confidence in my ability to not harm the tree if you leave me to the decorations,″ he grinned. ″Go on with you, before I fall victim to your womanly charms.″
″Tease,″ she blushed again, and bustled off to the kitchen.
Carefully, almost reverently, Arthur opened the lid to the box of ornaments that the Weasley clan, and the Prewetts before them, had used for generations upon generations. Some of these ornaments may have even dated back to the time of the Founders, or so the family legends said, though Arthur had always thought privately that they were no more than three hundred years old at best. Still, they meant the world to Molly, and therefore to him as well, so he always handled them with the most delicate of touches. With a few flicks of his wand and one hasty catch that Ginny herself, Quidditch captain extraordinaire that she was, would have been most proud of, he had the ornaments placed on the tree, the soft white glow of fairy lights surrounding it.
Arthur stood back for a few moments, admiring the peacefulness and tranquility of the scene in front of him, knowing full well that it would soon be shattered by the mayhem of generations of family. Sure enough, seconds later, the whoosh of the Floo announced the first of the clan to arrive.
″Grampa Weaswey!″ little Lily shrieked, hurling herself toward Arthur and affixing herself to his leg.
″Lily, darling, be polite,″ Ginny admonished as she followed behind her daughter, holding Albus's hand and shooing James in front of her. ″Harry's right behind me with all the presents. Can we set them under the tree yet?″
″Sure, darling,″ Arthur said, giving her a quick hug and kiss, then turning his attentions to the boys, who at their ages were a bit more reticent than their younger sister. ″Just mind the ornaments.″
″I know, Dad,″ she said with a smile, gazing fondly at the tree, looking it over until her eyes lit on a small green bauble with a tiny chip out of one side. That one, the only green one on the tree, had been her favorite since she was old enough to crawl to the tree and look for it.
″Hello, Arthur,″ Harry said, carrying a pouch of shrunken presents over one shoulder and reaching out with his other hand to grab Arthur into a warm embrace. A silently grinning Teddy hung slightly behind him. ″Alright to set these out?″
″Sure, go ahead,″ Arthur replied.
″Just mind the ornaments,″ Ginny said, beating her father to the punch with a grin.
″Of course,″ Harry said. Walking over to the tree, he gave his wife a quick squeeze, then set the bag on the floor, enlarging each gift as he took it out. When he was finished, he looked up at the tree with something akin to wonder. He'd never seen a real Christmas tree before this one. Well, there was the fake one, at the Dursleys' all those years ago, but that didn't count as there had never been anything for him under it. And the ones at Hogwarts, beautiful as they were, were for everyone, not just for him. But looking at this tree, here at the Burrow, always brought him back to the first Christmas he had ever been invited here to spend with Ron. Then, as now, he thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
″Is that my Lily?″ Molly called, hurrying out from the kitchen. ″Oh, it is! And James and Albus, and Teddy, gracious me, and hello to you too, Harry, dear, and Ginny, come here and let me look at you. Oh, it's so good to see you all! And Arthur-oh, what a lovely job you've done. Stunning! Would you be a love and set out our own gifts, too, while I finish the bread?″
Arthur gave her a wink and went off to get their own stack of gifts from the hall closet. But before he could get out of the living room, the Floo whooshed again. ″Grampa!″ Roxanne and Victoire called together.
″Hi, Dad,″ Bill said as he came through, carrying baby Louis. ″George and Angelica and Fleur and I all decided to come over together. Hope that's alright! The ladies were bonding over non-alcoholic punch.″
Sure enough, two very pregnant ladies came waddling through the Floo, one after the other, George right behind them. Angelica was due with a little boy next month, and Fleur herself only three weeks after that, so they had been spending quite a bit of time together ″nesting,″ as Bill and George teased them.
″Bill!″ Arthur cried, mission for gifts all but forgotten. ″How good to see you, son. How are you feeling? Good? Give me that baby, there, and make yourself company.″
Taking Louis from his son's arms, he deftly threw a cloth over one shoulder and stuck a practiced finger in the teething little one's mouth. ″Your mother's in the kitchen; why don't you go and let her know you all have arrived already?″
″Sure, Dad,″ Bill said, taking a second to stare over at the tree. ″Looks good-I see no one's set it on fire yet?″
″Very funny,″ Arthur joked. ″Don't let any of these children hear you say that, or they'll be all over themselves to be the first to top your brothers in a prank.″
Bill laughed, gazing at it fondly. He remembered well the first time as a boy when he had been allowed to Levitate the star to the top. He had practiced for weeks to get the spell just right, just so that he'd be able to do it that Christmas, and he grinned as he remembered the look of absolute pride on his parents' faces when he did it perfectly. The next year it had been Charlie's turn, but it was alright. He didn't need to do it again. That same star was still there on the tree, slightly bent from the year that Ginny dropped it, but otherwise it still seemed magical. Turning with a sigh, he went into the kitchen to greet his mother.
George made his way over to Arthur and Louis, keeping one eye on Roxanne so that Angelica could relax with the family for a while. ″Happy Christmas, Dad,″ he said softly, unwilling to startle the baby.
″Oh, George,″ Arthur said, gently rocking Louis in his arms. ″How are you, son?″
″Pretty well, all things considered,″ George said, smiling over at Angelica. ″How about yourself?″
″Can't complain,″ Arthur said. ″Happy to have everyone here for the hols. Your mum is in the kitchen, so don't forget to go let her know you and the brood are here.″
″Sure, Dad,″ George said, clapping Arthur on the back. As he turned to leave the room, he stopped, staring at the tree. Hastily, he scanned the tree until he found them-two matching blue ornaments shaped like Christmas crackers. Ever since he could remember, they had always hung side by side, almost touching. He breathed a small sigh of relief, finding them together off to the left side near the top. With a small, secret smile, he left in search of his mother.
The Floo whooshed again, sending Ron and Hermione and their two little ones, Hugo and Rose, tumbling into the living room. ″Uncle Harry! Grampa! Aunt Fleur!″ the two cried, unsure who to greet first and tripping over each other to be the first to hug every relative in the room.
″Hey, guys,″ Angelica said with a smile, holding open her arms to hug them both at the same time. Fleur did the same, murmuring to each of them in French and then sending them off to hug Arthur with pats to their bottoms.
Ron and Hermione greeted everyone with waves and smiles and, to those they could actually get to through the swarming mass of children, with hugs and handshakes. Once Albus and James ran off, chasing a shrieking Roxanne down the hallway, Lily toddling quickly after, the couple finally broke through to sit down on the couch near their sisters-in-law. Ron smiled, listening to Hermione and the others exchange girl talk, as they called, it, and his attention drifted to the tree. His eyes drifted aimlessly across the tree, taking in its familiarity, letting it wash over him. He chuckled silently to himself, remembering one year when he had almost managed to convince Ginny that climbing it would help her learn to fly faster, and another when goofing off with Fred and George he had almost knocked the entire thing over. But mostly he remembered countless days as a child, laying on his back under the tree and staring up through the branches, looking at the way the fairy lights glinting off of the ornaments made him feel like he was in some other world, and wondering if that would be what Hogwarts looked like when he was finally old enough to attend. Looking down, he saw Teddy, Hugo and Victoire laying side by side underneath the tree, pointing and whispering excitedly, and he smiled.
″Oi, it's almost five,″ Bill said, walking back into the living room. ″When's Charlie supposed to get here?″
″His Portkey will drop him off in ten minutes,″ Arthur said, handing Louis back over to his father with a kiss. ″Romanian government is very regulated. Too bad they don't have the same restrictions on Muggle artefacts … would love to spend some time over there if I ever get the chance …″
″Come to the kitchen, everyone,″ Molly called from the doorway. ″By the time we all get situated, Charlie will be here, and the food's almost ready!″
″Alright, you two,″ Hermione called to her children. ″Let's go wash our hands first.″
Amidst the chatter and hugs and greetings and calls for various children, everyone managed to find their way to the dining room, anxious for dinner. Just as the last child had been shepherded out of the room, Charlie appeared by the Floo. He looked around excitedly and, at seeing an empty room, realized everyone must have made their way to the table already. He grinned, rubbing his rumbling stomach, which was more than ready for some of his mum's home cooking. He added his pile of presents to the ever-growing stack beneath the tree, then stopped and stared. No matter how beautiful the forests in Romania, this was still his favorite tree. He touched one small silver ornament gently with the tip of one finger. His mum didn't realize, but he had had his first earring fashioned after this ornament, which had always drawn his attention when he was younger. He didn't quite know why; it had just resonated with him. Smiling, he walked toward the dining room, laughing out loud when he was greeted with a chorus of ″Charlie!″
When dinner was finished, dishes done, sleeping children carted off by tired, happy parents, and the last gift placed under the tree to await everyone's return tomorrow morning, Arthur and Molly stood arm in arm in their living room.
″Well, Mollywobbles?″ Arthur said quietly. ″Was today a success?″
″Oh, yes,″ she said. ″So good to have the house full again. It does get so empty most of the time. And Arthur, you did a lovely job-this tree does look good, doesn't it?″
″Looks the same as every year, dear,″ he replied.
″Now, now, it hasn't looked the same every year,″ Molly said. ″Do you remember the year that you gave me this?″ She walked over to the tree and gently stroked a small interlocking set of glass rings with a finger.
″How could I forget? That was the year I made the best decision of my life, and asked you to marry me,″ Arthur said, walking over to join her. ″How about this one, hmm?″ He pointed to a small porcelain baby rattle.
″Oh my, yes,″ Molly said wistfully. ″I had you unwrap that on Christmas morning to tell you we were expecting Bill.″
″And what a surprise that was!″ Arthur said, chuckling. ″But one of the best ones of my life.″
He reached out a finger and touched the tip of one branch. ″I didn't quite understand it when you said that Christmas wasn't Christmas without this tree, but over the years, I've come to understand just what you mean.″
Molly smiled and hugged her husband tight, and without a word, they turned and walked slowly to their bedroom, hand in hand.
Behind them in the now empty room, the ancient tree stood just a bit taller, a bit prouder, in its corner, and set about its sacred duty to keep watch over the family til morning.