We were at her flat in London when she asked me. I knew she was close with the Weasleys, that they adopted her when her own parents disowned her, but I guess I didn’t consider the invitation to their family Christmas. Arthur is nice, but Molly is yet to be sold on the idea of me. My parents are going on vacation this year, and she didn’t want me to be alone. It’s sweet, really, but I don’t know if going is the best idea.

When she enters Gimmauld Place, she’s greeted lovingly by everybody. When she pulls me in behind her, our fingers laced, Mrs. Weasley’s smile stiffens. She embraces me regardless, and she takes me coat as my love waits for me to untie my shoes- black muggle shows called Doc Martins, a birthday gift from her

She starts passing out little gifts- premium Firewhiskey for Fred and George, a new perfume for Ginny, some cigarettes for Harry, a set of drawing pencils for Ron, hairpins for Molly, a new tie for Arthur, a flask of muggle moonshine for Alastor, an ornate new ring for Sirius, chocolate for Lupin. Each gift is thoughtful, and exactly what that person would’ve picked out for themselves. She hands me a small box, which I open to find a ceramic magnet of a Monarch Butterfly.

I stand on my tiptoes to kiss her cheek, and she smiles as she squeezes my hand. I sit between Alastor Moody, my mentor and a longtime friend, and her. We dig in after a short amount of time chatting. Everything is delicious- and I make sure to mention this to Molly. She finds herself smiling at me, before dropping it and going back to her supper. It feels like a small victory, and I take it as such.

After supper, we move into the drawing room for presents. She perches comfortably in an armchair, and I sit on the arm. My arm is around her shoulders, hand in her curls. She doesn’t receive many presents, but I don’t think she cares. I collect things, she does not. If it doesn’t have a practical use, then she sees no point in it and subsequently avoids it. I know she isn’t bothered, but everybody’s piles are so large and I feel guilty.

I slide into her lap to hold her face, and she smiles at me. “Y’know, there’s been a lot of hardship this year. One thing I feel had made this year worth it, is you, Dora. Best gift I could’ve hoped for,” she says and kisses me, in front of all of our friends and colleagues. There are a few awh’s, but most people return to their present piles, which once again reminds me of how she has such a small pile.