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Title: The Night Before Christmas
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Warnings: Um, a character's death is mentioned. So be prepared for some angst.
Spoilers: This is set post-epilogue. Spoilers ahead!
Disclaimer: Not my characters! I just love them and hug them and write them and appreciate them and make no money whatsoever
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Harry has a cold.
Bunny: #7

The Night Before Christmas

Harry Potter stirred in his queen-sized bed and stretched out like a cat upon waking. Disturbing the covers let in pockets of air, and he shivered. His second action upon waking was to go straight for the glass of water on his nightstand, which was charmed so it was still cold despite it having sat there for hours as he slept. As soon as the tickle in his throat was battled away, his third move was for the tissue box. He pulled it under the covers and then pulled out several tissues with several seconds to spare. "HahShoo! AhhKShoo!" Even after so many years, his sneezes still came in pairs.

He looked at the clock ticking away quietly on the nightstand and was glad to see it was not yet ten. He had slept right through dinner, true, and perhaps he would have difficulty falling asleep for the night in a few hours' time. However, there was much to be done in the interval.

So he headed downstairs, clutching a handful of tissues tightly in a fist and clad in pajamas and a ratty brown bathrobe. His slippers made no noise on the stairs, allowing the sounds from the living room to drift up to him unobstructed and allowing him to make an appearance outside his bedroom without being noticed by the others. "Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse..."

Harry stood upon the bottom stair and, hugging the molding around the doorframe, leaned forward just enough to peer around, into the living room. James sat with Lily on his lap, his arms around her protectively as she tried not to nod off during the story. Albus sat there, as well, and, sandwiched between the children, reading the traditional Christmas Eve classic, was Charlie Weasley. It was usually Harry's place to read that story to the children, but he was glad someone without a stuffed-up nose was tackling it this year. The four were squeezed together on the floor in front of the hearth. A roaring fire, complete with salamanders, accompanied the group. Looking at it made Harry feel sleepy, so he closed his eyes and pulled back to stay hidden. They didn't need their magical moment ruined by his sniffling.

He listened to the story, smiling at Charlie's excitement as the man described Santa Claus, who none of Harry's children believed in any more. But hearing it told like this, Harry could almost start believing in him. Harry leaned against the wall, holding tissues to his nose, and smiled. Harry suddenly shivered violently.

The house had seemed so empty when the children were at Hogwarts. He was overjoyed to have them home now for winter break. Harry just wished that they hadn't brought a cold back with them. After a week of wiping streaming noses and owling Molly every few days for more home remedies, James, Albus, and Lily had recovered in no time, but Harry had come down with it, himself. The bug was especially tenacious, and Pepper-up barely made a dent in it. The only thing that really helped was lots of rest and lots of nose-blowing. His nose was tickling now, in fact, and it was all he could do to hold back a sneeze until at least the end of the story. It played at his already-red nostrils, which twitched against the tissues, but Harry stayed on top of it.

"And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight-" At this, Charlie dropped his voice down an extra octave. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" The sound of three appreciative youngsters clapping followed the ending, and Charlie laughed. "Now you'd all better get to bed or Santa might not visit here tonight."

"Uncle Charlie," Lily whispered, "We know there's no Santa Claus."

Charlie sounded aghast. "A time turner, an unplottable workshop, a bag with a size spell, and apparition, that's all anyone would need to do what Santa does. So simple. How can you say he doesn't exist?"

"Uncle Charlie..." That was Albus, sounding unconvinced and, yet, a bit skeptical.

"Well, I believe in Santa and I want my presents. Which means everyone needs to go get in bed. So beat it, little ones!" He made a roaring sound, and Harry knew he was doing his dragon impression. The children all laughed and humored him, running from the room and for the stairs.

The result was James bumping straight into Harry with an "Oooof!" from both parties. The others piled up behind, at the foot of the stairs. Harry wished them all sweet dreams and administered hugs as each passed by. "And dod't forget to brush your teeth!" he yelled up the stairs after them.

Harry walked into the living room, sought out the nearest armchair, and collapsed into it. Instantly, his breath hitched and the build-up was quieted by the layers of tissues. "HAPTchooo! Hetchahh!"

"Bless you."

Harry nodded appreciatively at Charlie and blew his nose. "Forgive be," Harry said. "I thik I'b gettig worse before I get better."

Charlie nodded. He got up from the floor with a little groan that both men pretended not to hear. He walked over and pressed the back of his hand against Harry's forehead. "You're not running a fever."

Harry shook his head. The thermometer had said the same thing yesterday. Fever or not, he still shivered.

"I'm going to get us some festively medicinal peppermint tea," Charlie decided at once, and walked towards the kitchen before Harry could think to stop him.

Harry smiled, blew his nose again, then rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms. He knew his shivering had absolutely nothing to do with his cold. Tea would help, but wouldn't completely warm him. Nothing could do that this year.

He coughed into the crook of his arm, wiped his nose against the sleeve of his pajamas, then dug out his wand. There were miles to go yet before he slept, and he wouldn't let anything ruin Christmas for his sons and daughter. If it was one thing the war had taught him, it was: if there were cause for celebration, you should be sure to celebrate it. And he was certain Ginny would have said the same thing.

Rising to his feet, Harry raised his wand, as well. When he pointed it at the Christmas tree, tinsel burst out of the tip. Harry circled the tree, drenching the whole thing in glittering gold that played off the strings of scarlet lights. Garlands of pine circled the room in a dark green with red berries. Risking nargles, Harry skipped the mistletoe; it always reminded him of his first kiss and though he and Cho still exchanged Christmas cards, he didn't need that sort of reminder of her.

Remembering that he had skipped dinner that night, he helped himself to one of the large, colorfully-decorated cookies his kids had left out for Santa Claus. It was comforting to know that tomorrow they would be having dinner at Ron and Hermione's place, so the kids would have a proper meal. Harry wasn't an awful cook by any means, but he was slightly better at washing dishes than preparing them. Plus, with the kids gone at Hogwarts, there wasn't much reason to prepare full meals and he was out of practice. Between them, Hermione and Ron always prepared a fine meal, and enough to feed their two families, as well as anyone else who would be there. Usually, Bill and Fleur made an appearance with their family, as well as Percy and Oliver, George and Lee and their twins, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. This year, Harry was hoping Neville and Hannah might also attend but he could not remember if this was the year they were to visit Hannah's parents or whether that was last year. After two decades of Christmases together, the festivities seemed to run together a bit. Though this year's would surely stand out.

Harry next started filling the stockings which hung from the mantelpiece. The first stocking was his own, and he put in the standard chocolates and toothbrush, in order to pretend to be surprised by them the next morning. Following that was Teddy's stocking; Harry's godson would be joining them tomorrow as always for presents and staying for dinner, at the very least. The boy had a rather full social calendar and Harry did not want to force him to stay longer. Next in line was James' stocking, followed by Albus' and Lily's. All five matched, right down to the felt and the glitter names. Harry had bought a stocking for Charlie, because he would have to have a stocking, too, but Harry couldn't make it look exactly the same. Harry didn't have Ginny's special touch.

Harry was finishing filling the stockings when Charlie returned with the tea. "Tree looks magnificent," Charlie said, grinning. He handed over the steaming cup of goodness that made Harry grin likewise.

"Thanks, Charlie. Sniff! You've beed so great lookig after the kids while I've beed sick. This Christbas was goig to be hard edough already without this cold. I could't have bade it through this last week without you."

Charlie nearly choked on his tea, laughing and snorting. "Bollocks, Harry. You'd have done fine. I just made it easier for you to find time to get a little sleep."

Harry adopted that same unconvinced and skeptical tone his son had used earlier. "Baybe."

From the box he'd hidden in the broom closet under the invisibility cloak, he pulled out a carton of candy canes. He offered a handful to Charlie, and together they began hanging candy canes everywhere- lampshades, doorknobs, and radio dials, just for starters. When Charlie hung his last one on the handle of Harry's teacup, Harry chuckled. He broke it in half and gave the larger part to Charlie.

The two men piled presents under the tree while chomping away on the candy. The underside of the tree was hardly sufficient to hold all the gifts, so Charlie extended the trunk and raised the tree up a little to accommodate. Harry sat the last few out in order to savor the fire and blow his nose some more. The problem was, the fire reminded him of this time last year.

"hahh... hahhh-AHShoo! Hah-ketchooo! Sniff! Sniff! heh-Tshoo! hahShoo!"

Charlie crawled out from behind the couch, where he'd been stashing the three new racing brooms any kid would have died for. "Bless you, Harry."

Harry nodded appreciatively. "Thanks. Sniiiifffffff! I'b sorry I soud so lousy."

"It's all right."

"It's dot all right," Harry said, miserably; it had nothing at all to do with his cold. Still, his breath caught again. As Charlie watched him preparing to sneeze, Harry almost regretted emerging from his bedroom. They all deserved better than to see him like this on Christmas. His cheeks flushed for a whole ten seconds. "ehh-hehh-heh... hahhh... hahh-KTChooo! Erahchoo!" But by the time Harry had finished blowing his very runny nose, his mood had improved slightly. Only slightly. "Please excuse me. I..."

Charlie shrugged it off with genuine casualness. "I'm just glad you invited me. I love my friends, I do, but Christmas is a time for family."

Harry remembered having heard that somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it. He smiled at Charlie, but Charlie wasn't buying it.

"You were missing my sister just then, weren't you?"

Nodding again, "This will be our first Christbas since she died. It's hard to dot biss her every secod." And he meant every second. He closed his eyes, but suddenly he felt Charlie's arm around his shoulders. The older man pulled him into a hug, the large arms wrapping around Harry's body. Harry felt another sneeze coming on, and concentrated on holding it back; this wasn't the time for one. He held his breath and willed it back, body tensing up. Sensing Harry's change in posture and misinterpreting it, Charlie patted Harry's back comfortingly.

Harry felt the sneeze tickling the back of his nose, making his mouth turn down at the corners. His eyes watered a little, from one thing or another, and he finally pulled back, pinching his nose. By then, it was too late and the sneezes burst from him, half-stifled. "Hffftchhh! Hektchhh!" He turned on the pretenses of blowing his nose, and swiped a tissue at his eyes, as well.

"Bless you. C'mon, let's finish up quickly so we can get a few more hours of sleep before the kids wake up, desperate and murderous for their presents." As they set the train up in a circle around the tree, several more packages began magically appearing beneath. Harry recognized the pathetic wrapping job of Hagrid and the squishy packages that surely contained sweaters. He smiled to see ones from Hermione and Ron appear, realizing they were setting up their tree just now, same as he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he even saw Charlie secretly slip a few things into the stockings, including something into Harry's.

"I do hobe they like what I got theb," Harry said, referring to no one in particular as the train made its first lap around the track. The train looked impressive, especially since the cars were all filled with candies. He had told himself not to overdo just to compensate for the lack of Ginny; the kids would see right through that. But that didn't mean he wasn't worried about them. "hahh-hahCHIH! hahShoo! Sniff! We'd go shobbig together, but Giddy was always better at pickig out gifts." He looked over at Charlie, who was making a bigger dent in the cookies left out for Santa, littering crumbs on the plate as evidence.

"They'll have to go through me if they don't. They're damn lucky to have you as a father. Besides, Ginny wasn't as half as good at gift-giving as you pretend she was. One year I made the mistake of mentioning I needed a new kettle. She gave me a tacky tea kettle that sang and danced when the tea was ready. Problem was, it wouldn't stop long enough to pour the tea. Had to smash the bloody thing into a thousand pieces to get some peace and quiet."

Harry laughed out loud and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth so he wouldn't wake the kids. Besides, it helped to have it there when the laughter turned quickly to coughs. After clearing his throat, he smiled gratefully at Charlie.

Charlie met his eyes and, smiling back, nodded 'you're welcome'.

They tidied up and turned off the lights in the room. Charlie made up the couch in about a second with a flick and swish of his wand. James had offered to bunk with his brother, but Charlie insisted he would be fine on the couch. They said goodnight and Harry headed upstairs towards the master bedroom.  He was amazed to realize, a few moments later, that he was still smiling and warm.

Harry thought briefly of poking his head into the other bedrooms to check on the kids, but decided he did not want to risk waking them up. Besides, they were old enough to put themselves to sleep; they did it every night at Hogwarts. And they should get a nice, relaxing sleep now that they were home for the holidays, and not be disturbed in the middle of the night by their sniffling, overly-sentimental father. So he settled for pressing two fingertips to his lips and touching their doors as he passed by, leaving kisses behind.

Halfway down the hallway, he felt another tickle brewing and hurried his pace. With his nose quivering, he ducked into the bedroom and closed the door behind him quickly. Not bothering with tissues now that he was alone, he sneezed freely. "ahhhShoo! HahTShhoo! Sniff! hahh... hahSHooo! Eh-H'Chshhoo! Sniiiiffff!"

Harry slipped out of his bathrobe and tried to hang it up on the back of the door, but he couldn't find the hook. He groped in the dark, repeatedly attempting to hang it, but each time the bathrobe slipped down, not taking hold of anything. Frustrated, Harry got out his wand and whispered, "Lubos!" Nothing happened. Harry sighed and dug a tissue out of the pocket of his bathrobe after all. He blew his nose repeatedly, then tried again. "Lubmos!" Apparently, that was close enough. The tip of his wand was illuminated and he spotted the hooks a good three inches from where he'd been trying to hang the bathrobe. With it finally in place, he turned and was surprised to find he wasn't alone in the bedroom after all.

Lily had claimed the entire right side of the bed and most of the covers were swirled around her. On the floor on either side of the bed lay James and Albus. All three were awake now, thanks to his sneezes.

"Daddy... do you mind us sleeping here?" Lily asked, groggily. She sat up, blinking at the brightness his wand had introduced into the room.

"Of course I dod't. I'll brobably be sdeezig and sdorig the whole dight, though. Would't you lot be habbier id your owd beds? I'll tuck you id if you wadt."

Albus shook his head. James smiled. "We don't mind, Dad. Please may we stay with you?"

Harry nodded. "All right, thed." They hadn't slept in the bedroom for months- not since the funeral. Before that they hadn't slept there since they were babies, apart from the occasional nightmare. And though he probably should have insisted they go get some quality sleep since they were just getting over being sick, too, he did not dare. Instead he climbed into the warm bed, taking the tissue box with him. No one spoke, and the children fell back to sleep, but not before Lily could turn onto her side to face him. She smiled at him. He smiled back at her. Then she closed her eyes to fall asleep and Harry knew everything would be all right. He lay in bed, rubbing his nose occasionally and listened as their breathing slowed.

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