Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.“Wake up,” she said loudly.
      “Hermione—you’re not supposed to be in here—” said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.
      “Merry Christmas to you, too,” said Hermione, throwing him his present. “I’ve been up for nearly an hour, adding more lace-wings to the potion. It’s ready.”
      Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.“Are you sure?”
     “Positive,” said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron’s four-poster. “If we’re going to do it, I say it should be tonight.”
    At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak. “Hello,” said Harry happily as she landed on his bed. “Are you speaking to me again?” She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he’d be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.
    The rest of Harry’s Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle toffee, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Harry opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley’s car (which hadn’t been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow), and the bout of rule-breaking that he and Ron were planning next.

— J.K. Rowling, bless her heart.