A little after eight in the evening, Angel softly sighed as her parents tucked her into bed. Her mommy had been away most of the day for her appointment with Madam Pomfrey. Of course, her mommy repeated the old mantra that everything was all right and not to worry. That was easy for her to say. She knew what was wrong. Even the little four-year-old could tell something wasn't quite right with her mommy because she kept shaking her hands out every few minutes.

"Do your hands hurt, Mommy?"

"No, love, they don't," her mommy replied, brushing back her hair and pressing a kiss against the little girl's forehead. "I just have some odd feelings in my arms, but Madam Pomfrey's working on it, though." Her mommy's dark eyes then glanced towards her daddy, and they shared a brief look before glancing back to her. "I heard you were hurt today."

"I hit my head," Angel answered softly.

"So your father tells me, and there was something about a deer or something… "

"It was lost, so I was trying to help it."

"Well, aren't you my little Snow White?" her mommy teased, carding Angel's blond hair.

"You know about Snow White?" her daddy asked incredulously.

"Of course I do. She's a rather important figure in Muggle history, isn't she?"

"Not really, no," her daddy answered with an odd look. "She's a popular character in an old fairy tale. Though, you are correct in your usage. She was considered to be rather kind to all animals, taking care of them and such." Her daddy's dark eyes then fell on her again. "However, I believe our little Snow White has learned her lesson about approaching wild animals without an adult."

"Yes, Daddy," the little girl replied, glancing guiltily at her comforter.

"Well, love, your father and I have to go away for a bit—"

"It's Christmas Eve, Mommy," Angel cried, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. Why were her parents always leaving her? Wasn't she a good little girl usually? More tears welled up, and she couldn't hold back the waterworks any longer. Had she really upset them that much this morning?

"Shh, love, it's all right," her mommy said, rubbing her back lovingly. "I know. Shh, I know, love. But it's going to be all right. We'll be back by the time you wake up in the morning. I promise."

"Why do you have to leave?" the young child cried into her mommy's shoulder.

"We have to leave because Daddy and I have to keep you and your brothers safe."

"But we are safe!" the child exclaimed. "Daddy makes sure we are. And anyone who tries to come after us knows that he'll kill them so the bad people just have to stay away then."

"Unfortunately, Daddy doesn't scare all the bad people, love." Her mommy brushed back her hair once more. "Do you remember when Daddy and I told you about the bad man that took your brothers' real parents away?"

"Uh-huh," the little girl answered, nodding fervently.

"Well, Grandpa Dumbledore and his friends have been finding signs that the bad man's people are going to do some really evil things soon. So Daddy and I are going to go to a meeting that Grandpa called about possible evil things these really bad people want to do to hurt lots of people."

"But why do you have to go?"

"Oh, love, trust me. Your daddy and I would rather be here with you and your brothers than with Grandpa tonight." Her mommy then pulled back from her so she could gently push up Angel's chin. "But listen to me, love. Daddy and I aren't the only parents who have to be away from their children tonight. Do you remember Mrs. Weasley, Harry's Mum's friend?" She softly laughed when Angel thought for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "Well, she and her husband are going to be there, too. So her children won't have their parents with them tonight either."

"Are they going to be all alone?" she quietly asked, staring at her mommy through her tears.

"Well, I'm not sure, love, but I'm sure their mommy and daddy gave them some orders or something before they left."

Angel glanced towards her wall and sighed. It was Christmas Eve. Families were supposed to be together, not apart during the Holidays. Idly, she wondered if the Weasley children felt as alone as she did. An idea hit her right that moment like a hippogriff on Fizz pops.

"Can they come over here while you're at the meeting?"

"The Weasley children?" her mommy asked with a shocked look. "Um, well, I'm not sure Grandma Syra would enjoy me inviting them over here."

"Why?"

"Because they're Weasleys," her daddy muttered under his breath.

"What if they came over and were good, though?"

"That's bloody likely," her daddy said under his breath.

"Um, love, I'm not—well, I'm not sure that they'd even want to come over here, though."

"Ron would," Angel happily stated with her face all aglow. "Fred says that Ron would sleep in Harry's bed if it meant he'd be a bit closer to him."

"Did he now?" her daddy said with a snort.

"Severus," her mommy hissed with a pointed look towards the little girl. Her mommy then sighed heavily before running a hand through her hair. Lowering her voice back to her mommy voice, she said softly, "Um, love, it'd probably be best if you kept that comment to yourself."

"Why? Doesn't Ron love Harry like Draco does?"

"Not exactly, love," her mommy replied. "Ron and Harry are best friends, nothing more. So what Mr. Weasley, Mr. Fred Weasley, was trying to say wasn't quite nice to his brother." Her mommy gently pushed back some of the blonde's stray curls absentmindedly. "And Harry and Draco like each other as brothers because they're family now. I wouldn't state that they loved each other, especially not around your brothers."

"Why?"

"Because they might get a bit … cranky with you, love," her mommy replied.

"Why?"

"Had you said that to them, that Draco loved Harry as Mr. Fred Weasley stated about his brother's relationship with your brother, your brothers might have taken that to mean you thought they were in love with one another as your mother is with me."

"Oh," the little girl replied. Grown-ups were complicated. That was all there was to it. Glancing at her mommy again, she pouted slightly. "So Fred can't spend the night with me then?"

"I'm afraid not, love," her mommy answered with a soft smile.

"Can I spend the night with them then?" The little girl's face was full of hope again.

"Hell no," her daddy replied instantly.

"Why not?" she asked with a mild glare directed at her daddy. She rarely became mad at him, but he wasn't being fair. They were leaving her on Christmas Eve. The least they could do is let her be with Fred.

"Because Merlin only knows what state we'd find you in tomorrow morning then," her daddy answered seriously. "I understand that you have some sort of … feelings for Mr. Weasley, but I will not have my daughter turn into some prankster."

"You're just prejuiced," she responded, her daddy's temper taking over.

"Prejudiced, not prejuiced," her daddy replied with a slight grimace. "And I am not."

"Are too," the little girl argued.

"Do not argue with me, Miss Prince," her daddy scolded.

"But you're wrong, Daddy. You don't like Fred 'cause Harry's real Daddy was mean to you."

"Do not presume what you know nothing about," he quietly said.

"You didn't like Harry for years 'cause he looks like his real daddy. So 'cause Fred reminds you of him, you don't like him and am trying to keep us apart."

"Keep you apart?" he yelled outraged. "Merlin, there is nothing going on between you two. And if there is, there will be a dead Weasley."

"What Fred and I have—"

"Better not be a damn thing if I have anything say about it," he growled.

"See? You're prejuiced!" she argued, glaring at him with her inherited father's eyes.

"Prejudiced, not prejuiced," he snapped before throwing his hands up into the air in frustration. "Fine, you know what? Fine! You're right, Angel. There, are you happy now?"

"No."

"Why not? You won."

"Cause you won't let me be with Fred," she answered honestly.

"You're four! You shouldn't even be thinking about him like that, least of all a Weasley."

"You're a mean Grinch!" she snapped angrily, sounding more like her daddy than ever before.

"And you're a spoiled brat in need of another lesson," he snapped back, glaring at her.

"Knock it off!" her mommy loudly yelled. Her mommy's dark eyes then angrily flashed at her daddy when he tried to retort again. "Severus, shut it." She then shook her head furiously before scoffing. "Honestly, I don't know which of you is more stubborn, you or your daughter."

"He is—"

"She is—" they replied simultaneously.

"Point made," her mommy said clearly exasperated. Drawing in another deep breath to calm down, some of her mommy's tension left her body. "Love, I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to settle for your brothers tonight. I understand that you don't like that your father and I aren't going to be here tonight, but we have to go." Her mommy then kissed her forehead before grabbing her daddy's outer robes and yanking him forcefully out of the room.

Grumpily, Angel crossed her arms and turned her back to the door. She wanted Fred for Christmas. Why wouldn't they let her be with him? She then huffed. They were ruining her Christmas.

"Hey, El," Harry quietly said from the doorway a few moments later.

"Go away!" she moodily yelled. He was just like Mommy and Daddy.

"Will you stop being such a brat, Celes? So you don't get to be with your boyfriend Fred. So what? I mean, I'm not with Hermione, and you don't see me being such a git to everyone, do you?"

Grabbing one of her bears, she threw it as hard as she could towards her brothers. Why didn't they just leave her alone? She didn't need them teasing her after all. Her daddy had done enough of that for a lifetime.

"Now was that absolutely necessary?" drawled Draco.

"Go away," she cried, feeling the hot tears slide down her cheeks. Why wouldn't they leave her in peace? Didn't they hear how her daddy mocked her?

"El, don't cry. Everything's fine," Harry softly said, walking closer. "Good job, Draco," he snapped towards their brother.

"Oh, yeah, because I was the one who made her cry, wasn't I?" he scoffed.

"Stupid Slytherin git," Harry mumbled, wrapping his arms around Angel. "Shh, El, it's all right."

"I hate Christmas!" she yelled, pushing Harry away from her. Of course, her attempt failed. Her brother's arms remained firmly locked around her in a fierce embrace.

"Don't take it out on Christmas just because our brother and dad were being jerks, El," Harry said quietly. "There's so much to Christmas you don't know. Come on. Let me read you a story."

"I don't care," she moodily replied.

"Sure you don't," he said with a laugh. "Has Dad read A Night before Christmas to you yet?"

Every night starting with the first of the month, their daddy read one Christmas story before she went to bed. The story her brother was talking about was the one her daddy was supposed to read to her tonight. Of course, her daddy had abandoned her yet again. Why even have parents if all they were going to do was abandon their children for their friends anyway?

"No," she mumbled. "And I don't care. I hate books! I hate Christmas! I hate everything!"

Her brother ignored her, though, and grabbed the thin book from the nightstand. He quietly opened it and scooted himself onto her bed so she could see the pictures. He ignored her grumpiness and softly started to read to her.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;" he softly read.

"This is a stupid story," she said grouchily.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there," Harry continued.

"St. Nicholas is stupid. You're stupid. Everything is stupid!"

"And someone's being a brat and needs to shut up," Draco quipped as he slowly approached.

"The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads," Harry pressed on, ignoring the bickering back and forth from Angel and Draco.

"Nestled in their beds while their evil parents are out, leaving them alone again," she grumped.

"And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter."

"Didn't their daddy tell them not to do such stupid things?" she asked with a scoff. "My daddy would take points and call them a dunderhead." She then rolled her eyes. "This story is so stupid." Her eyes, however, seemed a bit less angry as she stared at the colorful page.

"Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer."

"Is that a reindeer?" she asked with just a hint of anger in her voice as she pointed to the picture.

"Yeah, it is." When she didn't ask any more questions, Harry continued. "With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name."

"You shouldn't shout at animals. It just scares them, and then bad things happen."

Harry only stared at her before smiling softly and continuing. However, Draco then joined in. Soon, they both were reading to her, taking turns reading the next line of the story.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer!" exclaimed Harry. "

"Now, Prancer and Vixen!" said Draco.

"On, Comet! On, Cupid!"

"On, Donner and Blitzen!"

"To the top of the porch!"

"To the top of the wall!"

"Now dash away! Dash away!" cried Harry, throwing his arms up into the air.

"Dash away all!" Draco yelled, laughing as he threw his arms up, too.

"Why does that guy keep yelling at them? He's going to scare them."

"He's giving the reindeer orders, Celes. He's not really yelling at them."

"Oh," she quietly replied, turning her gaze back to the story.

"As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the house-top the coursers they flew with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around," Harry read, letting his voice trail off.

"What? What? What is it?" Angel's voice was frantic as she asked. What was coming into the man's home? Was it the bad man that wanted to hurt her family?

"Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound," Harry continued, turning the page.

"He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot. And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; a bundle of toys he had flung on his back. And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes - how they twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses. His nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow," Draco read.

"So he looks a bit like Grandpa then?"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"The guy who keeps yelling at the reindeer," Angel answered.

"Um, well, not exactly," Harry replied with a laugh. He then tipped his head towards Draco.

"The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf."

"Wait, house elves laugh?"

"Some do, but they're talking about elves, not house elves."

"There's a difference?" she asked with big brown eyes.

"Yeah, there's a difference, Celes. For one, they're not so damn grumpy all the time or trying to hurt themselves. Can I continue now?"

"If you have to," the little girl responded with a big sigh.

"And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work and filled all the stockings. Then turned with a jerk and laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod—"

"Whoa, he knows magic?" she exclaimed, clearly rattled by this fact.

"Yeah, El, he can do magic. How else do you think he can get everywhere in a night?"

"Daddy's wards will protect us, won't they?"

Neither of her brothers knew quite how to respond to that question. They just stared at her and stared some more and stared some more. How does one respond to something like that? Her brothers glanced at one another in a silent 'you do it, no you do it' argument before Draco finally sighed.

"Celes, he's not evil."

"Is too," she argued. "He yells at his reindeer and breaks into people's homes."

"He gives orders to his reindeer and leaves presents, Celes. He isn't hurting anyone."

"That's probably 'cause no one's seen him yet. He's probably like the bad man and kills people after he's done with them."

"El, Santa Claus doesn't kill people. He represents the good in all of us."

"I don't believe you."

"Yeah, like that's a surprise," Harry and Draco muttered.

"Now, can we finish the story, Celes? Or would you like to debate how Santa Claus is evil some more?" asked Draco, folding his arms and giving her a look.

"He is too evil. He breaks into people's homes and does magic, and Daddy read last night how Santa stole cookies once he finished."

"They were left out for him. Just like how we left them out earlier today. He's not a thief."

"Uh-huh," the little blond replied, clearly not believing it for a moment. "We left those cookies out for the house elves. So if he takes the cookies tonight, he's stealing then from the poor house elves."

"Oh, dear Merlin," Draco groaned, hanging his head. "Celes, Santa Claus isn't a thief, and he's certainly not a murderer."

"He is too!"

"No he is not," Draco argued.

"Up the chimney he rose," Harry loudly said, talking over his bickering siblings. "He sprang to his sleigh." Finally, he lowered his voice as they stopped arguing. "To his team gave a whistle and away they all flew like the down of a thistle."

"Well, that's stupid. A thistle is a plant," Angel muttered to herself. "It doesn't have down."

Her brothers thought best to ignore her comment. That would only lead into another argument that the four-year-old would desperately try to win. She was after all more stubborn if not more than her daddy was. Both of them knew that.

"But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight," Harry read, thanking Merlin above that they finally reached the last page of the stupid book. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" he exclaimed with a sigh. With a loud noise, the book snapped shut.

"Thank Merlin," Draco mumbled, glancing towards Harry. "I thought we'd be here forever."

"Why?" asked the little girl, tilting her head to the side. "Oh, you mean, because Harry was reading it so slow?"

"Oh, just go to sleep, will you?" her brothers growled.

"Fine," the little girl said with a sigh, quickly settling into her cozy warm bed. "But just so you know, Daddy reads to me better. He doesn't do all that one stuff like throwing your hands up and that."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Cause you guys looked ridiculous, you know," she said with infectious giggles. "But I still love you, Harry and Draco."

"Go to sleep, brat," they both replied, walking towards the spare cots to settle in for the night.