How are the presents delivered anyway?
” Harry wondered. “Search me,” Ron shrugged, tearing at the wrapping. “I just take ’em.” “House-elves deliver them,” Hermione said rather huffily. “I don’t see why we can’t just hand eachother our gifts or send them by owl.” “Ah, but the owls aren’t paid either, eh?” Ron said, grinning. “Oh no- darn it, why can’t she give me another color for once?” He held up a new knitted maroon sweater from his mother. “And-I don’t believe it- maroon socks and a scarf!” He shook his head. “I asked for a new scarf, my Hogwarts one is unraveling… Maroon… She must’ve had too much maroon this time… Can’t I have a new color?” “I think it’s nice,” Hermione said honestly, fingering the scarf. “It’s quite soft; must be very warm to wear.” “I suppose,” Ron said unhappily. “I hate maroon…” Harry opened his pack. “Whew,” he said, holding up his sweater and a new pair of socks. “Mine are OK.” Ron stared at the blue sweater and white socks. “Now see, why can’t I have a sweater like that? Why can’t I have
