"On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.
"'Merry Christmas,' said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
"'You, too,' said Harry. 'Will you look at this? I've get some presents!'
"'What did you expect, turnips?' said Ron, . . ."
Wishing you food and fun and presents, and not necessarily turnips!
from The Dark is Rising, page 126-127
"Strands of music and the soft rumble of voices drifted up from below. In solemn ritual, Will and James looped their Christmas stockings over their bedposts: precious, unbeautiful brown stockings of a thick, soft stuff, . . . When filled, they would become top-heavy, and could no longer hand, they would be discovered instead lying magnificent across the foot of the beds. . . .
"And it was the same as it always was, as he lay curled up happily in his snug wrappings, promising himself that he would stay awake, until, until. . .
". . . until he woke, in the dim morning room with a glimmer of light creeping round the dark square of the curtained window, and saw and heard nothing for an enchanted expectant space, because all his senses were concentrated on the weighty feel, over and around his blanketed feet, of strange bumps and corners and shapes that had not been there when he fell asleep. And it was Christmas Day."
[By the way, the book is much, much better than the movie! The book carries a magic that the movie doesn't even suggest.]
"Strands of music and the soft rumble of voices drifted up from below. In solemn ritual, Will and James looped their Christmas stockings over their bedposts: precious, unbeautiful brown stockings of a thick, soft stuff, . . . When filled, they would become top-heavy, and could no longer hand, they would be discovered instead lying magnificent across the foot of the beds. . . .
"And it was the same as it always was, as he lay curled up happily in his snug wrappings, promising himself that he would stay awake, until, until. . .
". . . until he woke, in the dim morning room with a glimmer of light creeping round the dark square of the curtained window, and saw and heard nothing for an enchanted expectant space, because all his senses were concentrated on the weighty feel, over and around his blanketed feet, of strange bumps and corners and shapes that had not been there when he fell asleep. And it was Christmas Day."
[By the way, the book is much, much better than the movie! The book carries a magic that the movie doesn't even suggest.]
