Four Candle Christmas Challenge~ RESULTS

[Equinox Chick]

Hello there lovely drabblers! Welcome to The Three Broomstick’s

‘Four Candle’ Christmas challenge!

This year’s Christmas challenge is based around the advent wreath:

Information from Wikipedia:
The Advent wreath is a Christian tradition that symbolizes the passage of the four weeks of Advent in the calendar of the Western church. It is usually a horizontal evergreen wreath with four or five candles. Beginning with the First Sunday of Advent, the lighting of a candle can be accompanied by a Bible reading and prayers. An additional candle is lit during each subsequent week until, by the last Sunday before Christmas, all four candles are lit. The custom is observed both in family settings and at public church services.

The first day of advent is today, the 28th of November. Each week, for four weeks, to imitate a candle being lit, we will give you a category of Christmas objects. You will have a week to complete your drabble that should include one or more of the objects in each category.

~~~~~

This week’s category is Christmas Colours.

The traditional Christmas Colours are:
Red
Green
Gold
White

You have until next Sunday (December 5th) to complete your drabble, of 500 words or less, including at least one of these colours.

You may include the colour as the word “red cherries” “white snow”, for example. BUT, here’s the catch, you’re not allowed to only mention the colour in passing. You MUST base the drabble around the colour. If you use the colour green as “green grass” you must base your drabble around the green grass.

You may also base the drabble around the feelings or emotions the colour makes you think of, however, you must tell us which emotion or feeling you used and which colour it relates to.

Because we're full of the Christmas spirit in The Three Broomsticks, there will be five points for participation (per week) and we will award an extra five points if you complete all four weeks. We will pick a winner and a runner-up each week. The winner will receive an extra 10 points, and the runner up will receive an extra 5.

You may enter more than once per week, but you will only get participation points once per week, Comprende!

Here is the form for your drabble:

[B]Name:[/B]
[B]House:[/B]
[B]Colour:[/B] (Or emotion)
[B]Title:[/B]
[B]Word Count:[/B]
[B]Authors Note:[/B] 

Have fun! Please direct any question to the "Ask a Barmaid" thread.

Merry Christmas!

(Thanks Russiaaaaa for the wonderful competition.)

~The Barmaids~

[ravenclaw1997]

Name: ravenclaw1997
House: Hufflepuff!
Colour: (Or emotion) Green (envy)
Title: Few Words Comfort
Word Count: 500 exactly! (whew, that was close)
Authors Note: This is my first time submitting a drabble, or writing one, for that matter, so if this isn't in the right place, I'm terribly sorry! Please let me know, because that would be awfully embarrassing.

Charlie looked around at all the people gathered at the table in his old dining room. This was his family, all the people he loved most. He had just returned from Romania for the holidays, and it was Christmas day. The entire Weasley clan had gathered at the Burrow to celebrate.

Bill and Fleur were there, with their daughters and son. Victoire had grown into a beautiful young girl, and her sister, Dominique, and brother, Louis, were no exception. Charlie loved these nieces and nephews, and they returned his love.

Percy had two beautiful daughters with his wife, Audrey. Their names were Molly and Lucy, and they were young and full of energy, twisting their father around their little fingers, making Charlie chuckle every time they moved.

George and his wife, Angelina, had two children as well, Fred and Roxanne. Charlie loved how George had named his son after his late twin, and knew that if Fred were there, he would be proud. His namesake was just like him, setting off dungbombs underneath chairs and listening to private conversations with Extendable Ears.

Ron and Hermione were there as well. Rose and Hugo were just like their parents; Rose highly intelligent, and Hugo quirky and odd. Charlie knew he shouldn't pick favorites, but Hugo had claimed the spot as favorite nephew almost instantaneously after his birth. Nobody made Charlie prouder.

Finally, at the end of the table were Ginny and Harry, with their three children surrounding them. James and Albus were fighting over a napkin, and Lily was folding hers into a creative shape. His sister's boys were the children that reminded Charlie most of the dragons he cared for in Romania, fighting constantly and breathing fire at one another.

With all of these happy children around him, Charlie couldn't help longing for some of his own. There just weren't any women in Romania, though, and he didn't spend enough time at home to meet someone. He was envious of what his siblings had- children and a wife, or in Ginny's case, husband.

All he wanted in the world was to meet someone who was right for him. He couldn't let his envy ruin his holiday, though, and joined in the conversation, learning of Victoire's friends at Hogwarts and Fred's latest charade to annoy his mother. His thoughts pervaded through these announcements, though, and he couldn't help but show his feelings.

"Charlie, are you okay?" Molly asked him, a worried look on her face.

"Can I talk to dad in the other room?"

"Of course, son." Arthur pushed his chair back and plopped down on the couch with his son. "What's up?"

"I've been thinking," Charlie began. "And I don't know what to do. I want kids, and everyone else's are making me feel... I don't know- envious."

"Charlie, you'll have children someday, if that's your fate," Arthur explained. "And it might not be. You just need to believe."

Somehow, these few words comforted Charlie, and that was all he needed.

[Eponine]

Name: Eponine
House: Gryffindor
Colour: White
Title: Pure White
Word Count: 409
Authors Note: This drabble takes place in December 1996. It's in Anthony Goldstein's point of view.

The pure white candles sat in a perfect row—nine: one for each night plus one to help—the shamash. That had always been Anthony’s favorite—the candle that was clever enough to help all of the other candles get lit, and by doing so, managed to get itself lit every night.

Anthony sat in the center of the Ravenclaw common room, across from the fire. His menorah of carefully polished silver, his mother’s before his and her mother’s before hers, was on the table. Above the glimmering silver was the pure white—unbelievably pure. His friends sat by him, watching his ceremony curiously, inspecting without insulting.

Anthony chanted the old chant—the one his mother had taught him and her mother had taught her—as he held the shamash up to the first candle. Its wick caught aflame, and he put the ninth candle back in its holder, slightly elevated above the others. The chant ended and Anthony fell into silence, content to just watch the white candles and their merry dance of fire.

“It’s hard to imagine.” The words came from Michael, who sat, leaning towards the menorah, studying it intently. “How many years have you all been doing this?”

“Thousands,” Anthony said, without taking his eye off the flame.

“You’ve been doing this for thousands of years,” Michael said, “and you’re still doing it. People have tried to kill you—to stop you before, but you never stopped. Even now, at the worst of times we’ve ever seen—you’re still doing it.”

Anthony turned to Michael and watched him carefully. “And you know what, mate?” he said. “We’re still going to do it. Even if we all die this year—even if You-Know-Who ruins everything, there will still be people doing this next year.” Anthony turned his gaze back to the candles, their perfect whiteness, now enhanced by wax cautiously dribbling down the sides. “It’s something bigger than us,” he said, answering the unasked question that he could sense around him. “Wizards can be corrupted—we’re not perfect. But this—this is too good. It’s too big.”

That, at least, gave him comfort. No matter what happened to him or his family, something he believed in would live on. Something he cared about would survive this war. He smiled as he watched the flames and the candles—the same candles that his mother lit before him and her mother lit before her—white, perfect, and pure.

[princessbipolar]

Name: princessbipolar
House: Ravenclaw
Colour/Emotion: Green- Envy but more of jealousy
Title: Differences
Word Count: 500- Just nice
Authors Note: : Thanks for lill (therightdirection) for betaing.

Gazing at the fanciful decorations hung up on the walls in the Malfoy Manor, Draco suppressed an immense sigh. He casually flicked a glance around the room. The empty seats by the warm fireplace yet again reminded him of the loneliness he felt, especially in this setting. A large dark green Christmas tree stood alone in the middle of the hall- with decorative ornaments such as baubles and miniature figurines hung up on it.

Draco’s gaze dropped upon seeing the lack of presents at the foot of the tree. At this moment, he spotted a card sitting conspicuously on the dining table. Unable to hold back the slightest glimmer of hope, he quickly walked over and picked it up. However, his mood darkened upon seeing the message.

To Draco, we are busy this evening. I know how much you want to celebrate Christmas, but we are extremely occupied this year. I didn’t have time to buy any presents. You can use the bag of galleons which I have given you to buy a suitable gift for yourself. – Mum.

Trying hard to restrain his disappointment, his eyes read the message again. There was no mention of a family Christmas dinner or any presents especially bought for him. Sighing, he flopped back against the chair and closed his eyes.

No matter how much Draco had tried to deny it, the people whom he was jealous of the most were in fact, the Weasleys. Picturing them gathering around the table to have a joyous and delicious Christmas dinner and imagining Ron Weasley open his usual jumble of presents which included a dully knitted sweater from his mum had often made Draco feel sick with envy.

His gaze moved abruptly to the empty dining table and he grimaced- yet again reminded of the differences between the Weasleys and his family. For years, he had longed to properly celebrate Christmas with his friends and family together.

However, neither of his parents was extremely enthusiastic about the holiday and often bought presents to replace their presence for the occasion. This year- they did not even have time to purchase gifts for him.

"House elf!" He shouted into the eerie silence.

Within a few moments, the one named Elli apparated right beside him. "Yes, Master?"

"Where are the rest of the servants?" Draco asked- frustrated by the immense loneliness which he felt with the absence of everyone. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen any of the house elves since breakfast.

"The house elves are having a private Christmas celebration, sir," Elli promptly replied.

Even the low ranking slaves had companions or friends to celebrate with for this occasion. As Draco grimly thought of the laughter and joy that everyone was feeling right now, except for him, his throat tightened as the dark demon of jealousy attacked him again.

Restraining the nagging feeling in him, he muttered, ''Elli?''

"Yes, Master?"

"I would like to join you and the rest of the house elves for the Christmas celebration."

[hogwartsbookworm]

Name: Bookworm
House: Hufflepuff
Colour: Gold
Title: Bloody Gold
Word Count: 365
Authors Note: Erm... it's almost one in the morning... guess who's a procrastinator?

Gold. Bloody gold. Many a war has been fought over it. Many a murder has been committed to get it. Many a person has died to protect it. There it sits, shining and fat, gleaming in the torchlight. So smug about its role in the destruction of the world, one greedy man at a time.

Or one greedy goblin at a time, Bill thought as his companion, Hodgrub, sidled past him into the tomb, eager to get his hands on the stuff.

“Wait!” Bill called out. Hodgrub stopped and turned to look at him, put out. Bill didn’t care. There could still be a few latent curses. It was better to be put out than dead or sporting a new pair of hands out of your head in Bill's opinion.

“Pervideo Maledicum!” Bill whispered, wand outstretched.

Nothing happened.

The goblin shrugged and continued forward.

“No!”

Once again the goblin stopped, annoyed.

“What now?” he asked, his nasal voice echoing in the tomb.

“There may be other curses that that spell doesn’t detect, Hodgrub. You know that!”

“But it isn’t likely,” the goblin said, tersely.

“Better safe than sorry.”

What a way to be spending Christmas day. I should be surrounded by the gold of tinsel and wrapping paper, the gold of family love and laughter. Not the gold of vindictive wizards long dead.

Bill raised his wand again.

“Invenio pravus!”

There was a whooshing noise as a curse was discovered.

“See?” Bill tried not to sound too proud of himself. Hodgrub huffed and crossed his arms.
After another several minutes of muttering countercurses, trying to hit upon the right one, there was a creaking noise and then a blast of air hit their faces as the curse was broken. Bill grinned. Hobgrub grinned back and turned to go on.

“Hodgrub—“

“I’m not waiting anymore. You’ve already broken the curse! Now let’s get the gold and get out of—“

There was a minor explosion and Hodgrub was thrown back. The goblin crashed into Bill, and they both fell in a heap. Bill struggled to sit up then shook his companion.

“Hodgrub! Are you alright? Hodgrub?”

Hodgrub didn’t move.

Gold. Bloody gold.


Merry Christmas, Bill.

[Annalise28]

Name: Lise
House: Slytherin!
Colour: Red, for Rose's hair and for love.
Title: A Long Christmas (yeah, original ahha)
Word Count: 493 Words.
Authors Note:This is the first time I've written in a while.. And it features my otp, so I hope you like it! Oh and thanks a hundred-thousand-million to Kara(Karaley Dargen) for beta-ing!

Scorpius stared at his fellow Slytherins. The common room was as gloomy as ever, and it most certainly didn’t help to brighten his mood. See, there was one point in the year where he always seemed to feel horrible: Christmas. Of course Christmas time was meant to be filled with joy and cheer. Not for Scorpius, though. The reason for this was different every year, from his parents nagging too much or trying too hard to be happy, to knowing that his grandfather was going to be having a good, long talk to him about the ‘rights and wrongs’ of society. This year, however, it was because of Rose Weasley.

They weren’t enemies, but until this year they had barely spoken a sentence to each other. Rose had tried to interact with him before, but he generally wasn’t interested in the Weasley girl, so he tended to ignore her comments. This year, however, they had been assigned Prefect duty together, and so it had given them a chance to chat and get to know each other better. And Scorpius couldn’t lie: she was lovely. There were times when she was unbearably grouchy and yelled at him for walking in front of her light, but other times she was a really good laugh.

Scorpius fed off her personality much more than he liked to admit and now he was incredibly angry because he would be leaving for Malfoy Manor, and she would be leaving for the Weasley house for Christmas. This meant too much time separated from her for Scorpius to handle. Although he would never admit that he had a crush on her, or something ridiculous like that.

He stood up from his chair by the fire and made his way to his dormitory, where he retrieved his trunk. He sighed as he walked back out into the common room and through the door leading into the dungeons.

***

The journey to King’s Cross Station was very tedious. His friends all tried to catch his attention, but they soon realised that he was lost in dream land. All Scorpius could think about was Rose. His hopes were low of seeing her before they reached the station, so he just stayed in his compartment, reading the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. It was a load of codswallop, in his opinion, but it was a reasonable distraction from his friends and from Rose.

He did see her once though, as he and his parents left Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. She was standing with her family, a radiant smile lighting up her features. It made his heart swell to see her like this, and then pump hungrily when he caught the last glimpse of her before exiting the platform.

When he arrived home, he couldn’t help thinking of her again: the way her red hair shone in the sun, how her eyes lit up when she laughed. It was going to be a long Christmas.

~ Annalise x

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Name: ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
House: Ravenclaw
Colour: White
Title: Etched in Stone
Word Count: 451
Authors Note: Just to prove that my canon button isn’t broken.

It was just like he remembered it: icy white marble, caped by a yawning blanket of snow, making the engraved words on the stone stand out in that much more relief. One in particular always reminded him of so many aspects of how his life played out.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Harry had fancied himself prepared to see his parents’ grave when he returned to it the Christmas Eve following the battle, but he had grossly overestimated his abilities in that respect. Hermione and Ron had gone with him that time, and he’d needed their presence. They instilled him with strength and bravery that he didn’t truly possess, just like they always did, which allowed him to keep his composure, and he’d only shed a few tears onto the stark white snow.

This year was different, though. Unlike the first and second visits to Godric’s Hollow, which had been marked by a cavernous hole in his soul which the occupants of that grave should have occupied, he felt oddly at peace. Maybe he had acclimated to the thought that his parents’ remains lay under his feet. Maybe the reminder of many others who had perished at Voldemort’s hand was starting to lose its poignancy. Maybe it was the softer, smaller hand that held his firmly like it would never let go.

He stared at the pale stone for a while before he gave her a glance and a slight nod. Together, they headed toward the small wood adjacent to the cemetery and Apparated back to Harry’s flat in London. Eventually, they would head to The Burrow, but he knew he needed some time to collect his thoughts, some time alone. Well, maybe not alone....

“All right then?” Ginny asked.

Stopping himself before he could retort that he could not possibly be all right, Harry thought about it. He was all right. For years, that slab of marble had defined him, had mapped out his life, from the monument of the deaths of James and Lily Potter to the inscription underneath that he had always found so ponderous, but he had come to understand that it wasn’t that at all.

What he had truly lost when his parents were taken was the chance at what everyone else had, and that was normalcy. But now that the war was over and he was slowly re-learning how to be anyone else than the Boy Who Lived, he was finally getting that opportunity restored to him. And that opportunity started with the girl-turned-woman whose head rested on his shoulder, her soft, steady breathing effortlessly soothing him.

“Yeah,” he said, running his hand absently up and down her arm. “All right.”

[CoolCatElly]

Name: CoolCatElly
House: Hufflepuff
Colour: Red and Gold
Title: Remembrance
Word Count: 497
Authors Note: I know the last line fails. I wanted it to be more profound. Lol. Fail.

“Do you ever wonder what it was like?” Lily asked, staring at the splash of red in the otherwise dreary corner of the entrance hall.

“What what was like?” Albus asked, winking at Mary Wilkons who had just walked by, giggling with one of her girlfriends.

“The War, you idiot!” Lily answered, elbowing him.

“Oh, right. I guess it was pretty cool. I mean, bad. Really bad,” he quickly amended at the look on Lily’s face.

“Look, I've got to go. You coming?”

Lily shook her head and turned back to the wreath of fiery red Christmas roses which had been draped around a golden plaque. On it were written all the names of those who had died in Hogwarts the day Lord Voldemort had tried to take over. Every year at Christmastime these roses appeared, and each year she could not help but stare. She approached and lightly ran a finger over her Uncle Fred’s name, and the names of Teddy’s parents... they had given their lives for her generation. They had sacrificed so much...

“Lily.” She jumped slightly at the voice behind her, but smiled as she saw its owner.

“Scorpius. Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s alright.” Her smile faded slightly at the tone of his voice. He was avoiding her gaze; she could see the red roses reflected in his eyes as he too approached the memorial.

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” His voice was bitter as he spoke.

“Noticed...?”

He turned to her, his eyes darkening.

“There are no Slytherins on this list. No Malfoys. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

“That’s not true. What about Snape? My dad said he saved his life. And Professor Slughorn came back to fight.”

“While my dad cowered behind his mother’s skirt and tried everything to hand him to Voldemort.”

“Oh Scorpius.” Lily sighed and pulled him into her arms, and even though he was a good head taller than she was, he melted against her like a child.

“You’re nothing like them. I know you would have stayed. It has nothing to do with the House you’re in.”

He didn’t reply, instead he tipped up her mouth and kissed her lingeringly.

Long after Lily had left, Scorpius remained standing in front of the golden plaque. The entrance hall was quiet now; with night fast approaching, most of the students had gone back to their common rooms.

There was no-one to see when he pulled out his wand and conjured a single red flower, glowing slightly in the candlelight, and made the stem weave in seamlessly with the rest of the wreath. And no-one was there to see the faint words appear in the shadow of the flowers, carved into the wall with a shaking hand.

Finally, there was nothing but a tear-streaked face to be seen reflected back at him from the polished surface of the plaque, as his lips moved soundlessly to mouth out the words he had inscribed.

For the survivors, victims of a fallen generation.

[lucca4]

Name: Ariana
House: Gryffindor
Colour: Green (for the Christmas tree)
Title: That Green Thing
Word Count: 500
Authors Note: Barely squeezing in on time .

“Tinsel?”

“Check.”

“Holly?”

“I’ve got it here.”

“Mistletoe?” Sirius asked, looking up from his list to grin cheekily at James and Lily.

“A whole sprig,” Lily replied, mock-smugly.

“Bourbon?”

“Yes.”

“The strong stuff?”

“Yes!”

“Just making sure! All right…a tree?”

There was a short pause. “F***,” James muttered. “I knew we forgot something.”

Lily frowned and raised her eyebrows. “We didn’t forget anything. I thought Sirius was getting the tree.”

Sirius bit his lip. “Er…no.”

“So we’re supposed to help you decorate your flat and you don’t have a bloody evergreen tree?” Lily asked, her voice rising in exasperation.

“That would be correct.”

“And it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, really Lily? I hadn’t realized.”

“Sirius…” James snapped warningly.

Sirius looked away, uncomfortable with his friend’s scolding. “Who really needs a tree?”

Lily snorted. “Yes, who really needs a tree for Christmas? It’s only the most obvious symbol of the holiday season.”

“Do you want to leave to go get that pine tree, then?”

“Evergreen,” Lily corrected automatically, though she looked a bit chagrined when she saw the glare on Sirius’s face. “And no, I don’t.” There was a tense silence before she spoke again. “I brought Christmas music. Muggle Christmas music.” A grin broke across Sirius’s face.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” Lily said, pulling a cassette player out of her bag. “I’ll play some while we decorate.” James took one look at the buttons on the player and blanched.

“Uh…Sirius and I will start putting up the tinsel while you…” He motioned his hands wildly in the air.

“Don’t hurt yourself, mate.” Sirius handed James a string of tinsel. “Put that over the fireplace or something.”

“Right.” Using his wand, James carefully draped the tinsel across the wall in a violently pointy shape.

“Beautifully done, love,” Lily said sardonically, raising her voice to be heard over the music. James reddened.

“You place the tinsel, then. I’ll set those statues of fat men all over the room.”

“It’s Santa Clause, Prongs!” Sirius sighed in mock-exasperation. “Muggle Studies,” he added, answering Lily’s silent question.

“I’m impressed,” she said, laughing.

The three set to work, hooking tree ornaments to the hideous curtains that hung from the windows, placing Santa Clause figurines on whatever shelf space was available, and covering the walls with tinsel.

When they were done, they sat on the bare floor and gazed at the work around them.

“Not bad,” Lily conceded. “I actually quite like it without …”

“…That Green Thing,” Sirius interrupted, tired of the word ‘evergreen.’ “I agree.”

“Too bad Peter and Remus couldn’t make it,” James said ruefully, wrapping an arm around Lily’s waist.

Sirius raised his bourbon glass. “To us,” he said.

“To Christmas,” Lily said softly as she too held up her glass. “Which is actually quite enjoyable without That Green Thing.”

“To luck,” James murmured. “That we’re actually together for Christmas.”

The three sat around the fireplace, laughing and talking. The room seemed aglow with Christmas spirit, and the absence of green soon became unnoticeable.

[coolh5000]

Name: Hannah
House: Slytherin!
Colour: Red and White (fairly self-explanatory)
Title: A Christmas Wreath
Word Count: 497
Authors Note: I've kind of got an idea that I'm going to try and link my four drabbles which is why parts of this may seem unresolved - however, I've tried to make sure it works as a complete drabble.

“Remind me again why we agreed to this?” Ron asked, as he struggled to fold the napkins to Hermione’s instructions.

“I don’t remember having a choice. It’s our turn after all. George and Angelina hosted last year, and Percy and Audrey the year before.” Hermione waved her wand, and the flowers of the Christmas wreath centrepiece changed from red to white. “Better?” she asked.

“I liked the red. It matches the napkins. Besides red has always felt more Christmassy to me.”

Hermione did not look convinced. “Angelina’s flowers were red, too. I don’t want her thinking we’ve copied.”

“I don’t think anyone will mind,” Ron tried to reassure her. Hermione seemed more stressed that usual at the thought of hosting the annual Christmas Eve dinner attended by all the Weasley siblings and their partners.

“I’ll mind. It’s important. I want everything to be just right.” She changed the flowers back to red.

“It looks perfect.” Ron gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just right for a family of Gryffindors as well.”

“Oh no!” Hermione tensed again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Audrey! She was in Hufflepuff! Do you think she’ll be offended?”

Ron groaned inwardly.

“Absolutely not. I’m sure the thought won’t even cross her mind.” He resisted the urge to add, they’re just flowers.

“All the same, I think they’d better be white, just to be safe.”

“Great! Can we leave it now? I need to take the kids over to Mum’s.”

“Right, yes, you’d better do that,” Hermione replied distractedly, her attention still on the table setting.

“Trust me, everything’s fine in here. I won’t be long.”

It took Ron half an hour to get the Rose and Hugo ready and take them to The Burrow. When he returned, the first thing he noticed was a rather odd burning smell.

Very quickly, he realised it was coming from the dining room.

“Her-oh dear.”

The room, which had been so perfect only an hour before, now looked like a disaster zone. The wreath was charred and a pool of water was spreading out across the table, destroying all the napkins as it went, and dripping onto the carpet below. Hermione sat at the table, sobbing.

“What happened?” he asked, putting his arms around her.

“I c-c-couldn’t decide on the colour of flowers,” she cried, “and I kept changing it, and they set on fire. I think my spell went wrong. And I panicked and tried to put it out with water, and too much came out and now everything’s ruined!” She burst into a fresh round of tears as she finished.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. You go and clean yourself up, and I’ll fix everything down here.”

She started to argue but he interrupted. “Trust me. We can have red and white flowers.”

With one last look at the ruined table, Hermione left, and Ron set to work, determined to keep his promise and give Hermione the best Christmas Eve she could ask for.