A/N – Well, here we are. The end of Advent. And I managed to write twenty out of twenty-four stories. Not too bad. Some were trickier than others, and some are better than others! But hopefully you have enjoyed reading them all.

Thank you to everyone who has read them and everyone who has reviewed. Special thanks to I hate mosquitos and RebeccaGranger who have reviewed almost every chapter, you two made me smile every time.

And here is your last one, day twenty-four…

Prompt – What was Christmas like for your main character as a seven year old child?

Hermione stretched and sat up in bed, sneaking a look over at her chest of drawers, where her Christmas stocking was hanging from a drawer handle. She sucked in an excited breath when she saw it was full of presents and her eyes immediately darted to the clock hanging over her bed. It was seven o'clock. She deflated a little. She knew she wasn't allowed to go and wake her parents up until eight, they had agreed the night before that they wanted a lie in. But she also knew that they liked to watch her opening the presents so she had to wait for them.

Hermione looked longingly at the stocking then lay back down in bed and turned her back on it. After only a few minutes she had turned around again to lie and gaze at the bulging red stocking. She looked at the clock again. Still too early. She sighed.

After what seemed like forever but, after having checked the clock, was actually only six minutes, Hermione decided she could at least have a closer look.

She slid out of bed and padded across her room to the chest of drawers. She peered at the stocking, trying to work out the shapes of the presents through the material, but she kept her hands behind her back.

There was something lumpy and squashy-looking, something round, lots of things she couldn't tell and something rectangular.

Before she could stop herself she had poked one finger out to prod the rectangular thing's edge, trying to feel for the indent of pages between a cover; she was sure it was a book. Very gently, so as not to jostle the other presents, she slid the rectangular one out and felt it properly. Yes, definitely a book. She grinned.

But now she was hit with even more curiosity. What was the book? Was it a fiction book, or a book of facts that she loved so much? A story or more knowledge?

Maybe she could just open one tiny corner and have a peek…

Taking the book-shaped present to her bed and sliding back under the covers, she carefully picked at the tape until she had unwrapped one end of the present.

She slid the book out of the paper and beamed. It was a mini encyclopaedia. Hermione buzzed with excitement, already flicking though and reading the odd snippet of information. She lapped it all up.

She quickly shut the book before she became completely entranced and slipped it back into its wrapping paper, refastening the tape and inspecting it to see if anyone would be able to tell that it had been opened.

She got out of bed again and tucked the present back into her stocking, her parents would never know.

Harry bit his lip and watched as Dudley ripped open another present. The floor around him was already strewn with ripped paper, the sofa behind him piled with toys and games that he had already opened. Harry wasn't jealous, he had got over the jealousy years ago, but it would have been nice to be included on the family Christmas.

He offered the plate of mince pies to Aunt Petunia, taking her empty sherry glass when she held it out to him. Uncle Vernon took two mince pies. He was holding the cine-camera, recording Dudley's reaction to his presents.

Harry refilled Aunt Petunia's glass and handed it back to her. Then went and sat back on his chair in the corner of the room. When no one was looking, he stuffed a mince pie into his mouth, letting the sweet, sticky fruit sit on his tongue and give him some Christmas joy.

He sighed, turning it into a cough when Aunt Petunia shot his a sharp look.

"What else have you got, my Diddykins?" she asked, turning away from Harry and simpering over her son instead.

"More stuff."

Dudley wasn't particularly impressed with any of the gifts, just giving each one a fleeting look before tossing it aside and tearing into the next one. Harry said nothing. He would have been more grateful than he could express in words to have received even one of the expensive things that Dudley had been given, but his spoilt cousin just dismissed them. He expected them and never doubted that they would be there for him and he took for granted how lucky he was.

Eventually Dudley reached the end of the pile and Aunt Petunia clapped, Uncle Vernon turning the camera off and leaning forward to examine the model aeroplane Dudley had received from one of his friends.

There was a tiny package still under the tree, wrapped in yesterday's newspaper. Dudley pulled it out and hurled it at Harry's head. Harry's hand shot out to catch it before it hit him. It had his name scrawled on the paper. Opening it slowly, Harry found a pair of plain black socks.

"Well, what do you say, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked at him.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia, thank you, Uncle Vernon."

Harry looked down at the new socks. What more could he expect?

Ron leapt onto his chair, between George and Percy. Percy was wearing his new Gryffindor tie and his Weasley jumper this year had a Gryffindor lion knitted on it. Everyone had been worried Percy would be sorted into Ravenclaw, so he was proud to display he was Gryffindor like Bill and Charlie, and their parents, and every Weasley in history.

Ron's own jumper was, of course, maroon. It was nice and warm though so he liked wearing it.

Mum brought the turkey over to the table and placed it in front of Dad, who brandished his wand like a carving knife and sliced the meat perfectly, hovering it over to each of their plates.

Ron grinned as his plate was filled up, enchanted spoons serving him mash and roast potatoes, gently pushing away the sprout spoon. As usual, everything looked delicious.

They all began tucking in, everyone making appreciative noises. Between the nine of them, the food didn't last long. All of the boys had seconds, Charlie had thirds and even Ginny had a few extra roast potatoes smothered in gravy.

Roast dinner was one of Ron's absolute favourites and Christmas just made it all the more special, with the added bonus of pigs-in-blankets and stuffing. He put both hands on his stomach as Mum levitated the plates away from the table and into the sink.

"That was brilliant, Molly," Dad said, his own pose mirroring Ron's.

Bill put an arm over Mum's shoulders, kissing her cheek. Charlie was still picking at any remains left on the table. Percy started a conversation with Dad about the Gryffindor common room and the twins were whispering to each other, ominously.

Ron and Ginny were the first to pick up a cracker, the bang and the smoke making everyone else jump. Ginny giggled, pulling on the tall feathered hat that had sprung out. Ron collected the bag of Gobstones to play with Bill later.

Several more bangs followed as the rest of the family pulled their crackers too and soon everyone was wearing a hat, the room full of laughter and chatter. Ron laughed at Fred, who had a bright pink beret on, clashing badly with his hair. Ron had a deerstalker, which he'd pulled the earflaps on down to tie under his chin.

It was a good Christmas.

A/N – There you have it. Hope you liked these three too, pretty please leave a little review… virtual mince pies to all reviewers! Also let me know if you'd like to see any of these little ficlets expanded into longer stories, I might have a go!

Thanks and Merry Christmas everyone!

LiGi out.