Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, the excited hustle and bustle of people traveling to be with friends and family adding to the thrill of the holiday season. The whole town is lit up brilliantly in twinkling lights, Christmas music floating softly through the air everywhere you turn.
The warm and inviting smells of people constantly baking cookies and other sweets always leaves your mouth watering, a sure sign of all the hard work and preparation going into celebrations as people come together to enjoy the beautiful holiday. Christmas is just one of those holidays that make you feel so happy and warm on the inside, and you can't help but to smile as your heart swells with joy when being surrounded by the people you care most about.
As much as I love Christmas, I absolutely dread the horrible annual Ministry party. Although I'm still unhappy with Daniel for offering to host the event, I'm also a little relieved. It's always hard celebrating the holidays without my parents, Christmas was their absolute favorite holiday.
Mum always decorated the house brilliantly with tons of lights and detailed ornaments, giving us our own winter wonderland. Dad used to get so annoyed at having to constantly rearrange and add her new decorations to the ever growing collection, but he secretly loved doing it to make us happy. At least if I needed to make a quick escape from the forced festivities I could always retreat to the safety of my room.
People from the Ministry begin filtering through our house, cheery voices floating up the staircase and into my room. "Merry Christmases" and "It's so lovely to see you again" and "Thank you so much for having us Daniel" can be heard as more and more people arrive at the party. The smell of Christmas dinner and the gentle clinks of glass cups containing warm drinks fill the chilly December air.
I turn to face the mirror one last time looking at the way my red dress hugs my frame perfectly, dipping down low in the back and resting against the middle of my shoulders. My golden brown hair is curled and loosely flowing down my back, my makeup light and remaining on the natural side besides going for a bold red lip. I usually don't like dressing up outside the comfort of my tee shirt and jeans, but the Ministry is made up of some of the most important people in the wizard world and impressions are everything.
I turn and face the mirror again, my hand unconsciously clasping around the small diamond circle pendant hanging around my neck. It was my mum's necklace, my father had given it to her as an anniversary gift years ago. She never took it off, and after her death Danny had passed it on to me. I only wear it on special occasions, not wanting to lose the last physical piece of my mum I own. Whenever I'm having a really tough day I hold the silver chain close to my heart, feeling as though I'm close to my mum again.
I gently stroke the pendant with my thumb, watching the way the million little diamonds sparkle brightly in the reflection of the mirror. Tears start to well in my eyes as the memories of all the Christmases we ever spent together come flooding back. Not a day goes by where I don't think of mum and dad, I would do anything to have another moment with them again.
I puff my cheeks out, holding my breath for a few moments while mentally trying to prepare myself for the long dreaded evening ahead of me. I glance up to the top left corner of the mirror, the air rushing out from my cheeks as a sad smile forms on my face. My fingers reach out and lightly take hold of the torn piece of paper, the smiling figures moving about in front of me. The photograph is of all four of us, smiling and laughing as the photographer yells at us from behind the camera to hold still so he could take the perfect shot.
Danny is standing in front of mum, her arms draping loosely over his shoulders. She brings her face down next to his cheek, her beautiful smile lighting up her entire face as she smiles widely. Danny starts giggling uncontrollably at her long blonde hair tickling the side of his face and neck, her arms squeezing tighter around him. My dad is holding me, pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek before squeezing me tighter, a big cheesy smile on my face as I wave to the camera. I was five then.
