At noon, the last guest, Mrs. Longbottom, arrived at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Square.
She is Neville's grandmother.
At six-thirty in the evening, the Christmas dinner officially began.
This year's Christmas dinner was unexpectedly large, but fortunately, the dining room table was very long and could accommodate everyone.
Mr. Weasley was excitedly examining a silver plate that could rotate automatically, while Bill and Fleur sat next to him, seemingly isolated from the surroundings, with eyes only for each other, causing Mrs. Weasley's expression to sour a bit, though she wasn't planning to say anything on this festive day.
Fred and George naturally were the focus of attention as Fred demonstrated his latest product—"King of Christmas Firecrackers", which, when ignited not only exploded into a magnificent Magic Hat but also had a tiny troop of knights riding strange Flying Brooms conducting a brief Quidditch match in the air.
"It looks really good, how much do you plan to sell this for?" Ron asked with curiosity.
"Six Sickles," Fred shrugged, "this is the monkey version, but if you want a longer-lasting Quidditch match, then it would require an additional six Sickles."
"It's really expensive." Ron said, pursing his lips, "If it were me, I definitely wouldn't buy this thing, it's too expensive!"
"I'll buy two." Draco said, blushing slightly as he leaned over, "Weasley, each of us will have one—now shouldn't you thank me?"
Ron was quite surprised; he didn't know why Draco would suddenly offer such generosity, but instinctively felt something wasn't right.
Recalling Draco's criteria for choosing a spouse that day...
"No thanks, Malfoy." Ron firmly refused.
He'd rather his brother-in-law be Dean Thomas...
No, Ron thought for a moment, that situation would be too awful; Malfoy would be better!
Sitting at the head of the table was naturally Sirius, the master of the Black family, with Jemma at his right as the hostess, and Harry, his godson, on his left.
Beside Sirius' plate was a Wizard Hat that played "Jingle Bells" by itself, undoubtedly the handiwork of the Weasley Twins.
"I must say, I really like this little thing." Sirius said with a cheerful smile.
Once everyone was seated, Sirius laughed and announced the dinner's official start.
Suddenly, the table was filled with a plethora of sumptuous food.
The main dish was, of course, roast turkey—an essential dish for traditional western feasts.
In western formal dinners, there can't be a lack of turkey in the main course, just as there can't be a lack of fish in reunion dinners.
The turkey's skin was roasted to a perfect golden-brown color, inviting touches, accompanied by a whole honey-baked ham.
The large silver platters were piled with mountain-like roasted potatoes, tomatoes, peas, shiny sausages, and specially prepared drumsticks for Ron.
Additionally, Mrs. Weasley's specialty meat pies, smoked salmon, a dazzling array that left people overwhelmed.
"So, what are we waiting for?" Sirius raised his glass, "Let me wish everyone a Merry Christmas—"
"Merry Christmas!" everyone said together.
After putting down their glasses, the table was filled with the sound of cutlery clinking, lively conversation, and laughter.
Harry forked himself a large roasted potato, picked up a sausage, and drizzled some gravy over the potato.
The sausage tasted amazing, far more delicious than those made by Hogwarts' House-Elves, filled with the taste of... home.
"This is Ruby's masterpiece." Vivi said with a smile, sitting next to Harry, "Looks like he learned quite a bit about making sausages during his time in Vienna... it tastes very good, I really like it."
"I still prefer British sausages," Harry commented while eating the sausage, "though they taste a bit greasy, but after so many years, I've cultivated this taste habit."
"Yes, I really like eating 'British sausages' too."
Vivi's words were softly spoken into Harry's ear, where she placed emphasis on the words "British sausages."
Harry realized he was indeed not so innocent, as he immediately understood Vivi's implied meaning.
Fortunately, her voice was low, so only the two of them heard it.
After saying this, Vivi behaved as if she hadn't been the one to speak, sitting there gracefully cutting her food, looking noble and elegant.
"You really need to be punished." Harry whispered in her ear, "To say such things, it's just..."
"Did I say anything?"
Vivi said, as she divided the sausage in front of her.
"Ha." Harry said nothing, just gave a short laugh.
"What are you two talking about?" Cassandra suddenly asked suspiciously, feeling that the pair didn't seem to be discussing anything serious.
"Eating," Vivi said with a smile, casually offering Cassandra a sausage, "There's so much delicious food, we should savor it well."
Cassandra gave Vivi a suspicious glance but didn't continue questioning and bowed her head to taste the sausage.
After finishing the main course, it was time for dessert.
The desserts were incredibly lavish, nearly as impressive as those at the Hogwarts welcome feast, and it was evident that some House-Elves trained in the Leme family had perfectly mastered French dessert techniques.
Once the last dessert—Christmas pudding aflame with blue fire, gummy frogs (Fred and George's contribution, which made people temporarily croak like frogs), and the shimmering jelly was devoured, everyone leaned back in their chairs satisfied, holding their stomachs.
"Croak, croak." Ron suddenly made frog noises, eliciting good-natured laughter around him.
"I must say." He said, somewhat regretfully after croaking, "This is the grandest Christmas dinner I've ever had; before this, I never imagined—"
"Imagined what?" Hermione asked.
"So many people celebrating Christmas together." Ron said with a cheerful smile; after treatment with Professor Snape's ointment, his gums were no longer swollen, and the ulcers had completely healed.
Even if it meant writing a two-foot essay, Ron felt it was worth it.
"Yes, it really is lively," Hermione agreed.
After the meal, they returned to the living room.
The Black family's living room had undergone a second expansion, and as the British Ministry of Magic's minister, using the Traceless Stretching Spell to expand his own living room was quite reasonable, right?
It didn't count as abuse of power.
They gathered in groups here and there, the Malfoys were conversing with Miss Fari, and Narcissa held Miss Fari's hand with undeniable satisfaction on her face.
As a woman from the Black Clan, she naturally had the traditional Black Clan values.
Finding a woman/man, one should find a Slytherin.
And Miss Fari perfectly matched her expectations.
Mrs. Longbottom sat with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, happily chatting, seemingly reminiscing the past.
The younger ones gathered in their groups, Ron and Hermione were chatting in a corner, while Draco somehow found himself trying to flirt with Ginny, a bit cautiously—but judging by Ginny's demeanor, she seemed entirely unaware of Draco's awkwardness, instead happily conversing with him.
Luckily Ron was chatting with Hermione at the moment; otherwise, seeing this scene would probably make him explode.
Meanwhile, Harry had walked to the window, gazing out at the serene square covered with a layer of thin snow.
He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts flying far away.
Sirius came over too, handing him a cup of steaming Butter Beer.
"It's different from before, isn't it?" He said softly, his gaze also directed outside.
"Yes," Harry nodded.