Located on the south side of Diagon Alley, directly behind Gringotts, lay a quiet and deep side street.
There was not much of a typical commercial atmosphere here. Or rather, this was the true commercial hub of Diagon Alley, because the businesses established in this secluded alley were the economic lifeblood of the entire British magical world.
---
Directly across from the L.A.A. Publishing House, a once-abandoned three-story building had been granted a new lease on life.
From a distance, it appeared as a beautiful Baroque Classical Revivalist structure, complete with towering spires and intricate reliefs carved into the stone walls. In the first rays of the morning sun, its stained-glass windows cast a magnificent and colorful visual display.
However, despite the building's tranquil exterior, the inside was bustling with frantic energy. This was the off-campus branch of the *Hogwarts Past Events* magazine.
---
Second Floor, Printing Department.
Neatly bundled stacks of magazines, smelling strongly of fresh ink, practically covered the entire floor.
Ron, wearing a very respectable set of wizarding robes, casually picked up a newly printed copy and flipped through its pages. As the manager of this branch, he fully understood the massive news value of yesterday's Christmas banquet. Therefore, after the midnight feast concluded, he had immediately rushed back to the office despite the firm objections of his wife, Lavender.
He had to get a special edition of the magazine published before the Daily Prophet could release their morning paper.
Looking at the pristine magazine in his hands, a satisfied smile crept onto Ron's lips. The magazine staff and his colleagues had worked through the entire night, and they had now delivered a near-perfect result.
With the work finished, all that remained was to enjoy life.
As the youngest son of the Weasley family, Ron knew perfectly well that he could not match the brilliance of his older brothers. He should have enjoyed the favored position of the youngest child, but fate played a trick on him when the family welcomed his younger sister, Ginny, the only daughter in the Weasley clan.
Ron was never jealous of the affection showered upon his sister, as he cared for Ginny deeply as well. What had truly made him uncomfortable growing up was the constant feeling of being overlooked by his family.
Fortunately, all of that was firmly in the past. From graduating and finding a career to eventually getting married, he had walked a long path. Many of the lingering grievances from his youth had dissolved, replaced by a mature understanding of his family dynamics.
---
9:00 AM
After finalizing all the follow-up tasks with his team, Ron grabbed his coat and walked out of the publishing house without looking back.
He strolled through the familiar cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. Although it was still early in the morning, the Christmas holiday meant the entire street was already teeming with life. Every shop along the alley had opened its doors early, their display windows packed with a dazzling array of magical goods.
"Special discount on dragon liver today, only seven Sickles an ounce!"
"The all-new self-stirring cauldron! Even the youngest Potions Master, Madam Granger, uses it and highly recommends it!"
"Twenty-foot Movie Mirrors! A household essential with crystal clear picture quality!"
Listening to the lively, chaotic sounds around him, Ron walked straight into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Thinking about it always baffled him. George and Fred could easily live a life of sheer luxury just off their business dividends, yet they still insisted on personally running their joke shop.
He pushed open the heavy shop door.
The joke shop was uncharacteristically quiet this morning, though Ron knew exactly how explosive the crowds would be on a normal holiday. The current lull was solely because of the Triwizard Tournament, which had prompted virtually all Hogwarts students to stay at school for the holidays.
Guided by the polite and enthusiastic shop assistants, Ron ended up purchasing a total of ten gifts. Even with a respectable salary, buying so many things at once still made his wallet ache. Whenever this happened, he could not help but sigh at the unfairness of his fate. For every single family gathering, he always had to count heads and buy ten separate presents.
Despite his silent grumbling, Ron did not forget to stop by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour after leaving the joke shop, purchasing a massive tub of chocolate ice cream.
---
Outside Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England.
A crooked, lopsided red house stood proudly in the countryside, looking to be several stories high. There were four or five uneven chimneys jutting out from the roof. The entire structure looked as if a naive child had haphazardly cobbled it together using mismatched building blocks.
Yet, this comical-looking house was impossible for anyone in the magical world to ignore. It belonged to the Weasleys, currently the largest and most populous pure-blood family in all of England.
It was the famous Burrow.
---
The Second Day of the Christmas Holidays.
Although her hair had turned somewhat gray over the years, Mrs. Weasley still woke up bright and early.
Ever since Bill graduated from Hogwarts and traveled far away to Egypt for work, the once-bustling Burrow had slowly begun to quiet down. After Bill came Charlie, and then Percy. Roughly every few years, this lively, chaotic home lost another resident.
To outsiders, this might seem like a completely normal part of life; fledglings must eventually leave the nest, after all. However, as a mother, Mrs. Weasley strongly disliked the feeling. Watching her children leave one by one, and seeing her joyous Burrow gradually become deserted, was a truly bitter pill to swallow.
But today was different.
Unlike the quiet mornings of the past, Mrs. Weasley did not feel distressed while facing the empty rooms of the Burrow today. A warm, radiant smile constantly illuminated her face.
---
8:30 AM
With the arrival of Bill, his wife Fleur, and their three energetic children, the entire Burrow seemed to instantly regain its lost vitality.
Long-absent laughter echoed off the walls, and even the pesky gnomes in the garden cautiously poked their heads out to see the commotion. Up in the attic, the elderly family ghoul began banging on the chimney pipes again, making rhythmic clinking sounds as if expressing a warm welcome.
At a quarter to nine, the arrival of Charlie's family elevated the joyous noise to another level.
Then came George, Fred, Percy, Ginny, and Harry, followed by Lavender, who arrived by herself. Aside from Ron, all twenty-five members of the Weasley family had gathered under one roof.
Watching her grandchildren rattling around the house and causing mischief, Mrs. Weasley did not treat them with the same strictness she had used on her own sons. Whether a child knocked over a teacup or accidentally pushed down a chair, she merely watched the energetic little ones with a peaceful, blissful smile.
Nearby, Arthur, though also showing his age, remained as enthusiastic as ever about discussing all things Muggle. He was in exceptionally high spirits today. Not only had he received a fascinating Muggle remote-control car from Harry, but more importantly, he saw true relief and relaxation in Harry's eyes. It was as if someone who had been trapped for a lifetime had finally found the exit to a dark, forbidden maze. Arthur was happier about this than anyone else in the room.
"Let us all have a good drink tonight, and absolutely no one is leaving! The house is plenty big enough for all of you to stay."
Arthur's bold proposal was met with unanimous cheers of agreement.
---
Amidst the roaring merriment, the front door of the Burrow was pushed open once again.
"Uncle Ron!"
"Presents!"
"Ice cream!"
Unlike the adults deeply engrossed in conversation, the children were the first to spot Ron standing in the doorway, weighed down by bags of all sizes.
"Oho! Little Ronnie is finally being generous for a change," Fred teased, looking at his brother playfully.
Fred's teasing successfully earned him a reproachful glare from his wife, Angelina. He did not mind in the slightest, instead turning his attention to the joke props in Ron's hands with great interest. With just a glance, he could tell that Ron had bought out products straight from their own joke shop. There was Fever Fudge, Headless Hats, Trick Wands, Edible Dark Marks, and even a few terrifying-looking but highly amusing Blood-Burst Beans.
"I have always been generous. Unlike you two, who still charge me money for a single two-Knut firework," Ron retorted mercilessly.
He smoothly handed the large bag of gifts to Bill's eldest son, the oldest of the grandchildren.
"Go on, share these with your cousins and siblings," Ron instructed, casually ruffling the boy's hair.
"Ron Weasley, you are late!"
Mrs. Weasley, who had been completely silent until now, suddenly pulled a long, stern face. It was a stark contrast to the loving gaze she had just given her grandchildren.
Faced with that terrifyingly familiar expression and tone, Ron instinctively shrank his neck, looking incredibly timid. Just as he opened his mouth to defend himself, he noticed everyone in the room looking at him in utter amusement. Suddenly, the sharp click of a camera shutter echoed through the living room.
"Make sure to keep this photo safe. I want to show it to my unborn nephew in the future, just so he can see exactly how 'brave' his father is," George announced, handing a freshly developed three-inch photograph over to Lavender.
---
It seemed that whenever George and Fred were around, they could effortlessly fill the room with pure joy and laughter.
Amidst the cheerful chaos, Mrs. Weasley began organizing the massive family lunch. Plumes of pristine white smoke rose lazily from the chimney, drifting into the sky.
Beneath the clear blue expanse, the lopsided red house appeared somewhat lonely sitting on the vast Devonshire moors.
However, as the back door swung open and a large, rowdy group of children poured out into the yard, that fleeting trace of loneliness vanished without a trace.
"Grab your clubs, everyone! Grandmother told us to go de-gnome the garden!"