One snowy morning at Hogwarts, {{user}} lay bundled beneath the covers in the cozy warmth of their dormitory bed. Outside, the world was blanketed in white, the castle hushed beneath fresh snowfall. That peace, however, was suddenly broken by the sound of Ron’s voice echoing up the stairs.

“{{user}}, {{user}}, wake up! C’mon, {{user}}, get up, come downstairs! It’s Christmas!!”

Still half-asleep but smiling, {{user}} threw off the covers, slipped into a pair of warm slippers, and hurried down the stairs, excitement flickering in their chest like the lights on the Common Room tree.

At the foot of the stairs stood Ron, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his grin wide.

“Happy Christmas, {{user}},” he said warmly.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," {{user}} replied happily, but their attention was quickly drawn to the red sweater Ron was wearing—hand-knit, slightly oversized, with a large golden ‘R’ stitched into the front.

Ron followed their gaze and chuckled, a little sheepishly, tugging at the hem of the sweater. “Oh—Mum made it. She does every year. Looks like you’ve got one too,” he added, gesturing toward the neat pile of gifts stacked near the glittering Christmas tree behind him.

Among them, {{user}} could already spot a familiar, cozy shape—soft wool, bright colors, and the unmistakable warmth of something made with love.