tradition

11

"Merry Christmas!" Eloise screamed with unrestrained excitement, yanking the covers off Briar's body in a dramatic flourish. The chill of the early morning air hit Briar like a wave, making her gasp and pull her knees up to her chest. "El!" Briar yelped, grabbing at the sheets in a futile attempt to reclaim her warmth. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes still heavy with sleep, but the enthusiasm of her friends was undeniable. "Come on! We've got to open presents!" Georgia chimed in, her arms piled high with colorful gifts that seemed to sway precariously as she balanced them. The sight of the brilliantly wrapped packages, adorned with bows and ribbons, was almost enough to drag Briar from the cozy confines of her bed.

"Really, Briar, if you don't get up now, we'll open everything without you!" Hermione teased gently, nudging her friend's shoulder. With a groggy nod, Briar reluctantly slid out from under the covers, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She quickly grabbed a few presents from her nightstand—those from friends and family—and with her friend's encouragement, they all made their way down to the common room, the festive atmosphere filling them with anticipation.

Once they settled on the floor of the common room, the girls surrounded themselves with a chaotic sea of bright wrapping paper and bows. Briar could hardly contain her excitement as she picked up a present, cradling it in her hands. "Is that from Harry?" Hermione asked, glancing at Briar with an inquisitive expression. Briar nodded slowly, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation wash over her. Eloise's eyes widened in disbelief. "I thought you were mad at him!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with surprise.

Briar shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in her tone. "Sure, I still find him annoying and infuriating sometimes, but he apologized," she admitted. Eloise exchanged a look with Georgia, who nodded knowingly. 

"You know, Harry isn't that bad. I know he can be insufferable sometimes, but he really likes you," Hermione said, her voice warm. Briar pursed her lips, contemplating Hermione's words. She knew that Harry had harbored feelings for her since their second year at Hogwarts, but the sheer number of times he'd asked her out had become an irritation. It was strange, really; he could be so brave and kind in front of his friends, yet whenever he was around her, he transformed into someone completely different—unbearable and arrogant.

Yet, Briar couldn't shake the thought that perhaps there was something more to Harry's persistence. After all, maybe he truly believed that if he kept asking her out, one day she might finally say yes. Shaking her head to dispel those thoughts, she carefully unwrapped Harry's gift, her heart racing with curiosity. As the paper fell away, she gasped as three vinyl records and a smaller box tumbled out. "He didn't..." she breathed, holding the records up to examine the titles: 'Queen', 'The Beatles, and 'ABBA'. 

"Oh wow, those are incredible!" Georgia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she leaned closer to inspect them. Hermione smiled knowingly, her eyes drifting back to her own gifts, pleased to see Briar's reaction.

With trembling fingers, Briar lifted the lid off the smaller box, revealing a stunning gold necklace with a delicate rose pendant nestled inside. Georgia glanced over, gasping in amazement. "Isn't that the necklace you were looking at a few weeks ago? How'd he..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air as Briar clasped the necklace around her neck, admiring the charm that shimmered against her skin.

"Is that a rose?" Eloise asked, her eyes wide with wonder as she leaned closer. "Yeah, it is," Briar replied softly, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest. Hermione's smile widened, knowing full well that her friend had taken her earlier advice to heart. The necklace was not just a gift; it was a symbol of the thoughtfulness that Harry had shown, and it stirred something deep within Briar that she was reluctant to acknowledge.

Later that day, with her heart still racing from the morning's revelations, Briar walked toward the library, hoping to dive into her studies. Just as she turned the corner, she spotted Harry, leaning casually against the wall, a bright smile lighting up his face when he saw her. "Harry!" Briar called out, her voice echoing in the corridor.

"Why, hello Sleeping Beauty. Is that the necklace I gave you?" Harry asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The sight of her wearing the pendant seemed to delight him, and for a moment, all the frustration she felt toward him began to fade.

"Yeah, thanks by the way. And for the um—records, those are my favorite bands," Briar said, thanking the boy. Harry nodded enthusiastically, his grin broadening. "Yeah, Hermione told me," he said, a proud lilt to his voice. 

Briar found herself smiling softly, an involuntary reaction that surprised her. In an impulsive moment, she leaned forward and gave Harry a small hug, feeling the warmth radiating from him. "Thank you, Potter," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushed. But before she could hurry off, Harry called her name, his tone teasing.

"Briar! Say my name again?" he called, his eyes glimmering with playful challenge. Briar turned back, momentarily puzzled. "Potter?" she repeated, a hint of confusion in her voice. Harry shook his head dramatically, his expression almost theatrical.

"My first name!" he exclaimed, causing Briar to laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. "Goodbye, Potter!" she said, her tone light with laughter as she walked away, her heart racing at the sudden playfulness between them. As she headed toward the library, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of Harry's thoughtful gifts.

If only Harry Potter could read minds, she mused, he might have been jumping and squealing like a teenage girl discussing her favorite boy band. The idea made her giggle, and she shook her head, forcing herself to focus on her studies. Perhaps Christmas had a way of making even the most infuriating boys seem a little less unbearable.