Author's note: Here is my Christmas gift to all of you! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the book series Harry Potter, the song Without You, or the musical I'll Be Home For Christmas.

I'll Just Wait For January

The rush was finally over and Angelina could relax at last. The two weeks before Christmas were always stressful, what with finding what everyone wants for Christmas, buying it, planning parties, and cleaning your house for said parties so thoroughly that it looks as though the house has never been lived in. Now, before quiet Christmas Day dinner, there was nothing left to do but listen to the radio with Alicia.

Each day I sit at home

Waiting by my telephone

Knowing I will be alone once more.

Alicia had been the only one of Angelina's friends who could come on Christmas Day. Everyone else, Katie, Oliver, Lee, and George had family obligations. Fred couldn't make it for another reason. Alicia had family too, but had responded to Angelina's invite, sensing that her friend would need her. This was Angelina's second Christmas without her father, and her first without Fred.

Angelina's father had been a Muggle-born wizard. He had been one of the first to fall victim to the Muggle-born Registration Commission. After being found "guilty," the Ministry had shipped him off to Azkaban.

He hadn't lasted for more than a month.

Wishing you could be

Sitting here with me,

But it's just a fantasy for

Angelina knew her father had been strong, but his strength lay in his ability to laugh. The song now playing over the radio had been one of his favorites. A sappy supposed-to-be-romantic song, with comical lyrics if you listened hard enough.

Mr. Johnson had rigged the wireless to play Muggle stations as well as wizard ones. The singer in question was a Muggle, and the song had been recorded more than fifty years ago, during an entirely different war.

Without you

My white Christmas is blue.

Snowmen melt in the sun,

And Christmas cards come

With postage due.

'Fred would have found the song funny,' Angelina was thinking to herself. He thought everything was funny. Alicia didn't seem to be enjoying the song half as much as Angelina was. Angelina was sure her mother could hear the song from the kitchen, and was surprised that Mrs. Johnson had not told her to "turn that infernal racket down." Mrs. Johnson had never sympathized with her husband's and daughter's love of amusing music.

Without you

Rudolph's nose just won't shine.

All my needles are dry,

And reindeer can't fly,

And church bells won't chime

If you're not mine.

This was the first Christmas that Angelina had not looked forward to. Everyone was in good spirits, with too-wide smiles plastered on their faces. She felt as if everyone expected her to be just as happy. Cheer up, it's Christmas!

Angelina had not felt properly happy since before the Battle of Hogwarts. Before she had seen Fred carried into the Great Hall when the fighting stopped. Fred had been there to run to when her father had been taken away to prison, and again when he left the world forever.

But if you were here

I'd hold you so dear.

There'd be holiday cheer,

And a happy New Year.

There had been no one to run to after Fred was killed. Alicia, Katie and Lee all tried, but they were upset too, and hadn't been much help. Angelina had been too distant with Oliver over the years for him to be any help. And George . . . if there was someone who had taken Fred's death harder than George, Angelina couldn't imagine who it was.

Her mother had not been much comfort, either. Ever since Mr. Johnson's death, Mrs. Johnson had become completely detached from the world and everyone in it, including her own daughter. She was grieving in her own, very hurtful, way.

But you're not

So I'm caught

In this spot

So distraught.

Oh, what can I do?

To think that this was just the first of many Christmases that Angelina would have to endure. Without Fred. Without her father. She wondered how it could possibly get any easier. Various people had promised her that her heart would heal eventually. Time heals all wounds. All wounds but this. There would always be something that would remind her of what she lost. Something that would bring it all rushing back. His seat at the table, an ornament he gave her as a gift, a familiar prank, a song on the radio . . .

Without you

I've bid romance adieu,

And my fire won't burn,

And so I just turn

And close up the flue.

The clatter from the kitchen was getting louder. Either the Christmas turkey was a real fighter, or Mrs. Johnson was trying to tune out the song. Angelina was willing to bet everything she had on the later.

Meanwhile, Alicia's lips were getting thinner by the second. Angelina wondered how much longer her friend would hold her silence about the song. Sappy romance music had never exactly been a passion of Alicia's.

My tinsel all has been tangled.

My jingle bells have been jangled.

My choir leader I've strangled

Without you

Alicia broke her silence at last, "That has got to be the stupidest song I've ever heard."

Normally Angelina wouldn't let her friend get away with such a jibe. But it was Christmas, a time for peace on Earth and all that jazz. Angelina just laughed and said, "Alicia, you just don't know what it's like to have love and lost."

"Maybe not," Alicia smiled her 'kidding' smile, "But I also don't know what it's like to enjoy a song not meant for an audience with the IQ of spam."

Without you

My heart's broken in two.

Santa Claus isn't fat.

Bing Crosby sings flat,

And bills are all due.

It must be time to eat soon. Angelina hoped that her mother would hold off on dinner time for just a few more seconds. The last part of the song was her favorite. It dropped the comedy and become more serious, more poetic, and more romantic.

That special day's ordinary.

I'll just wait for January

For Christmas won't be merry

Without you.

A second feminine voice joined in with the lower tenor of the radio as the last stanza was repeated.

That special day's ordinary.

I'll just wait for January

For Christmas won't be merry

Without you.

Angelina turned in surprise. Her mother had emerged from the kitchen, but not to scold Angelina for her taste in music. Instead, she had been singing along.

"Mum!" Angelina said in surprise, "I didn't know you knew that song!"

"There're quite a few songs I know," her mother told her almost . . . sadly, "I just don't get much opportunity to sing them anymore," the sorrow on her face vanished, and the smile returned, though the tears still lingered in her eyes, "Come on, dinner's ready."

Angelina turned off the radio. Alicia had not understood 'love and lost,' but her mother had. Her mother knew exactly what it was like. Finding comfort in her mother was the last gift Angelina expected to get.

But miracles always happen on Christmas.