The tree fell over the first time he tried to put it up, dragging the curtains down with it, nearly plunging into the fireplace. Ginny doused the tree quickly, and used a levitation charm to pull it back into place, then hugged him, telling him it was the most gorgeous tree she’d ever had for Christmas.
He’d put the turkey into the oven too soon, and the temperature had been too high. The outside had burned to a crisp while the inside was entirely raw. Ginny had made them ham sandwiches from the leftovers her mother had sent home with them the night before, telling him she preferred ham anyway.
When he’d filled her stocking, the toe had broken open, and the presents had spilled everywhere. She’d grinned at the “shower of presents” he was giving her that year.
Neville had made Christmas a disaster. Ginny had made it perfect.