Christmas Eve

Mr. Bennett had decorated the outside walls of the house with strings of colored lights. Snowflake stickers covered the windowpanes, and even the birch tree by the door was hung with colorful ribbons and golden bells.

In the second-floor living room, a tall fir tree stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, the star on its tip flashing gold.

On the evening Rose came home, Mrs. Bennett prepared a table full of food. They were just like a family. Rose shared stories about school over dinner, and James and Sirius's pranks had Mrs. Bennett giggling nonstop.

After dinner, Rose returned to her little room. It looked almost exactly as it had when she left, except that the sheets on her small bed had been changed. Rose sprawled face down on the bed and smelled lavender and sunshine.

Over the following week, Mrs. Bennett insisted that Rose sleep until she woke naturally every day. Then they would take their time preparing the day's ingredients—the fish-and-chip shop opened only at midday during the holiday, because it was getting dark earlier and earlier, and people were going out less.

Early on Christmas morning, dazzling light streamed through the curtains patterned with little pink flowers, filling the room with brightness. Rose stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet and pulled the curtains open. Everything she could see outside was white.

A melodious, elegant Christmas carol drifted from the record player in the living room, its tune playing gently. Flames danced in the fireplace, keeping all the cold outside the window.

"Go and look at your presents!" Mrs. Bennett urged cheerfully, handing Rose a cup of hot milk. "There were several owls outside the window first thing this morning. They were frozen, so I fed them some dried fish."

"Oh, they must have been from my friends. It's fashionable among young people these days-" Rose was afraid she would ask why the presents had been delivered by owls, but fortunately Mrs. Bennett didn't bring it up.

A pile of colorful boxes lay beneath the fir tree, which was covered in decorations. There were even more boxes than in the past two years combined.

Rose sat cross-legged on the carpet and opened the largest box in front of her. It was Lily's gift—a flying broomstick care kit, complete with a thick care manual. Rose spent a long time leafing through it with great interest. It must have cost Lily quite a bit of her pocket money. Next was a thick sweater from Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, knitted by Mrs. Bennett herself. It was finely made and stylish, and when Rose held it up against herself, it was just the right size.

James had sent her a magical scented candle that gave off different fragrances depending on her mood when she lit it. Sirius had given her a pair of Dragonhide Gloves, sturdy and beautiful, with some defensive effects as well. They were very practical. Remus and Peter had both sent her gifts, as had Marlene, Mary, Natasha, and Edgar from Hufflepuff. Even Snape had sent her a sheet of parchment with several spells written on it. They looked like his own little inventions, leaving Rose wary but very curious.

After opening her gifts, Rose joined Mrs. Bennett in the kitchen to make gingerbread biscuits in all sorts of shapes and berry pies. The sweet scent of fruit filled the house. Old Mr. Bennett poked his head in several times, trying to sneak an early taste, but Mrs. Bennett chased him away each time.

That afternoon, Mr. Bennett took Rose outside to clear the snow from the yard, while Mrs. Bennett prepared Christmas dinner in the kitchen.

As evening drew near, the sun sank to the tops of the birch trees, barely lighting the gloomy, dark purple sky. Mr. Bennett called Rose back inside. They had spent nearly two hours piling up the snow in the yard and had also built a little snowman half a person's height by the door.

Rose wrapped the red scarf around the snowman. Mr. Bennett had her stand beside it and took a photograph of her with an old-fashioned film camera.

The sun had set completely, and there wasn't a soul on the street. After returning to her room, Rose took a quick hot shower. The scent of sweet orange shampoo suddenly made her ravenous.

Warm yellow light fell over the food on the table, giving it a captivating appeal. Just then, Mrs. Bennett brought out a steaming roast turkey and called for Rose to sit down.

Christmas dinner began. Mr. Bennett brought out a bottle of brandy he had treasured for a long time and poured Rose a glass of pomegranate juice.

"This is the liveliest Christmas we've had in years!" Mrs. Bennett was delighted. She poured herself glass after glass of wine. She could clearly hold her liquor remarkably well, her eyes bright and showing no sign of a drunken haze.

"Mia and I are both very happy you could come back for the holiday." Mr. Bennett was somewhat reserved. Rose hadn't spoken with her very much, but she could feel his kindness and thoughtfulness.

The record player sat unused. On Christmas Eve, the husky singing of a woman on an old cassette was better suited to the atmosphere.

"I'm really grateful to you both." The ache in Rose's eyes gathered at the tip of her nose, and she choked out, "This is the best Christmas I've ever had, too!"

Mr. Bennett shook his head, and Mia looked at her affectionately and shook her head with a smile. "But I don't want that-" They looked at each other, full of understanding and love. She continued, "What I hope is that, by the time you're our age, you can barely remember this evening-because it was just an ordinary evening to you. You'll surely be happier and happier, Rose."

Tears burst from Rose's eyes, beyond her control. In her thirteenth year in this world, she had finally found a true sense of belonging.

At some point, snow had begun falling again outside. The wind blew the flakes against the glass with a soft rustling sound.

Rose listened in fascination as the two people, both over fifty, told her about their youth. Old Mr. Bennett had served in the Second World War, but the war had ended soon after he enlisted. After his discharge, he was unwilling to return home and lead an aimless life, so he used his allowance to travel. In Bordeaux, France, he fell in love with the young Mia at first sight, and they soon fell in love.

The young woman came from a wealthy family. What followed was like something out of a work of modern literature, beginning dramatically and ending quietly. They resolutely broke with the family and moved to this small town together, where they had lived for nearly thirty years.

"I've never regretted my decision back then." Mia was drunk. She leaned back in her chair, a peaceful, serene smile on her face. "These have been the happiest days of my life-" Her gaze grew vacant, and suddenly a clear tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "My poor-"

Mr. Bennett began to sigh as well, an irrepressible sorrow in his brow.

Rose didn't know what had happened, but they must have remembered something very sad. Her intuition told her it had to do with their daughter, who hadn't come home in more than ten years.

But she asked nothing. Instead, she thoughtfully helped Thomas take Mia to bed, then watched her fall into a deep sleep.

Early the next morning, no one brought up the Christmas Eve that had ended so abruptly the day before. Like anyone else, they only wanted to remember the beautiful, hopeful moments.

The following week passed peacefully and comfortably. They opened the shop for a brief two hours at midday each day, then curled up together on the sofa to watch films, listened to Mr. Bennett's amusing stories about his travels through Europe, and prepared dinner together in the kitchen.

The day before school started, Mr. Bennett had the photograph he had taken at Christmas developed and gave it to Rose.

In the photograph, the girl grinned foolishly at the camera, swaying like a lighthearted little bird. Her eyes and brows curved into a smile, reflecting all the brilliance and purity in the world.