A mistletoe is nothing more than a small green plant with three or more broad, jagged leaves and bears red berries which are poisonous if ingested. How then, is it that such an unimportant looking plant could be a symbol of Christmas to me?

Just looking at the small plant, currently hanging in the doorway of our flat by a nail gives me a rush of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'll make it for Christmas like he said he would. I remember all the other times we met under the mistletoe. Whether it was around family and friends who laughed at our "misfortune" of being caught underneath at the same time or where it was just the two of us and one simple heated kiss would eventually lead us to much more. I can't stand waiting much longer, hoping, and always hoping that this next assignment for Gringotts will end soon and he comes home safe.

To be honest, I never really knew how much he matters to me until I graduated from Hogwarts and went to Bulgaria to study my great fascination with dragons. Those majestic winged beasts took up most of my time until late at night, where I would lay in bed, tossing and turning. Most nights I would stay awake, knowing something was missing in my life, aware of the gaping hole where my family once was. Where his smiling teasing face and long red Weasely hair, tied up in a ponytail and casually draped over one shoulder was.

Yes, I'm referring to my older brother, Bill. We live together, we're lovers, and I'll stick with him until I'm old and gray and he's even older. I've heard the bollocks about it before; I'm sick, headed to hell when I die, and I'm an incestuous bastard. Bloody hell, people just have to take every opportunity to judge us before they bother looking at themselves. Can't they just be happy that I found my special someone? My parents are and the rest of my siblings have gotten over the shock of my proclamation of love to Bill at Thanksgiving. Percy and the twins, Fred and George, are fine with it, and Ginny couldn't care less about who I date. Ron though, looks at us funny whenever we hold hands or snuggle when we visit the Burrow. I suppose it's because he's the only heterosexual in the family besides our parents. Poor boy doesn't know what he's missing. I suppose not everyone is gay in the world.

Right now, as I sit by the window overlooking the busy hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, I can't help but miss Bill's presence here. Usually, he'd be sitting on the couch, reading up on Quidditch national rankings in the paper or cleaning the living room as I cooked dinner. It might sound like I'm the feminine sort, but just trust me, Bill can't cook at all. Last time he tried to cook, we ended up eating something from the fridge that was still moving on the plate, something that was burnt to a crisp, and something so old, it had learned to speak English while sitting in the back of the fridge. I can't help but smile as I remembered his cursing and complaining as we tried to eat until I ran out for something more palatable.

I shouldn't be so melodramatic. I know he's going to come home, if not on Christmas, then a few days after. His work at Gringotts isn't as life-threatening as my work with the dragons was. I've since taken a job at Hogwarts, as Hagrid's helper, now that the bloke's getting on in age and can't remember things as well as he used to. I still get to work with dragons occasionally, with the Ministry, as a side job, but it usually coincides with the times that Bill's away and I have nothing more exciting in my life because school is on summer vacation.

It's gotten late now. The light from the window is dimming as the sun sets somewhere behind the clouds and my eyes slowly adjust to the growing shadows. Might as well light some candles on the tree now. With a practiced swish and flick and a muttered "enflamos", the candles light in a puff of red colored smoke, making the Christmas tree sparkle like the stars starting to appear in the sky.

A sudden loud knock at the door startles me from my awe of the tree and sends me flying to the entrance in the hope that it's Bill, Bill coming home from his trip and he's safe and here for Christmas just like he promised. Instead, it's a tiny owl, pounding on the door with its' beak impatiently. Why would Ron send his Pigwidgeon here with a message for me? Why didn't Bill send our owl, Duet? I let Pig in and watch as he settles onto Duet's perch behind the couch

Pig's loud annoyed chirp brings me back to attention and I carefully remove the message strapped to the leg he sticks out for me. I know Ron's not too fond of his tiny owl, but he seems almost endearing with his hyperactive personality. He's the total opposite of Duet, loud and antsy to Duet's spoiled and demanding nature. All Pig needs to calm him is some attention, where Duet gets constant attention and only demands more. Absently, I uncurl the note with one hand while ruffling my fingers through the white feathers that top Pigwidgeon's head. He lets out a satisfied hoot and follows into the kitchen with a flutter of wings behind me.

I read and walk at the same time, paying attention to the words written in Percy's precise script and letting my familiarity with the flat help to navigate to the table. My heart leaps in my throat as I finish the letter. Bill's back, yes, but Mum's come down with something and he's chosen to stay at the Burrow for Christmas to make sure everyone's all right. Dad and Mum both want me to come down instead of waiting here by myself for Bill to come home.

Eagerly, I gathered Pigwidgeon in my arms and pulled out my wand from where I'd earlier placed it in my pocket. Pig shifted nervously until I calmed him down with a casual stroke of his feathers. Then I took a deep breath and flicked my wand, focusing on the front door of the Burrow, wreath hanging on it cheerfully. I closed my eyes and suddenly we were there, standing outside the door and it was freezing cold.

"Hello? Anyone up and about? It's freezing cold out here!"

There's a pause, then the doorknob turns and the door opens to reveal Fred's smiling face. I smile back, happy to see my little brother again and wrap my arms around him in a hug. He leads me into the house, where I let go of Pigwidgeon, who immediately flutters off to find Ron's shoulder.

Fred whispers in my ear as he lets go of my shoulder, "He's upstairs, taking care of Mum. Glad you could make it here for Christmas too, Charlie."

Before I can go up the stairs, Ron comes out of the kitchen and stops me mid-step. Pig is on his shoulder, as I predicted, chirping and hooting away, almost as if he's intentionally harassing my youngest brother for making him deliver a letter in this kind of weather. Ron smiles, hugs me, and says that he's missed me now that he's graduated from Hogwarts and joined the Aurors to help ferret out You-know-Who. I nod my head and vow to see him as soon as we both have some free time. It's not an empty promise, because I really do enjoy Ron's company. He's usually pushed in the background by the twins' playfulness and mischief, Percy's achievements, and Ginny being the baby of us all, but he's really a good kid.

Suddenly, the hairs on my neck stand on end, as if someone very important is standing behind me. I turn, expecting Dad, Ginny, Percy, or George, but instead, I see Bill's glowing smile and I hug him enthusiastically. I've missed his smell, his touch, his very "Bill-ness" so much that it's overwhelming to be in his arms and I'm at a loss for words.

"I've missed you so much, love. I'm so sorry I hadn't contacted you earlier, but I'm here now," he whispers in my hair, hands wandering down to rest on top of my hips.

Inconsiderate jerk, he had me so worried and lonely, and I missed him so much! He should have at least sent our owl�then he looked me in the eye and wiped my face so gently I couldn't stay mad at him.

"Please don't cry, love-"

Fred comes up and hangs something over my head, laughing. Ron smiles and says, "Hey Charlie, it looks like you and Bill got caught under the mistletoe again!"

This time, I don't give a damn who sees when I pull Bill's hair free from its' ponytail, slip my hands through it, and kiss him deeply, drinking his taste into me. Everything else disappears except Bill until the kiss ends and I'm left breathless and panting, my mouth sticky with his flavor.

"Merry Christmas, Charlie."

"Merry Christmas, Bill." I'm so happy because being with Bill under the mistletoe is that best gift anyone could have ever given me.

~end~