"Happy Christmas, Ginny!"

Harry felt oddly shy as he handed her a large package, hoping she'd like what he'd chosen for her. Her fingers brushed his as she took her present, and Harry couldn't help but remember back to the previous year when she'd spent as good bit of the holiday in the hospital wing. The bracelet he'd given her then sparkled on her wrist, catching the light of the fire on the grate, as she undid the wrapping.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny breathed as her hands touched rich cashmere and her eyes went round. "It's… It's…"

She obviously couldn't find the words. Harry heard a gasp from Mrs Weasley as Ginny held up the deep green cloak trimmed with silvery grey fur.

"It's beautiful," commented Hermione, who had arrived the previous evening. She and Ron would be leaving after the meal here at the Burrow to eat another Christmas dinner with her family. "Try it on, Ginny. Let's see how it looks on you."

Ginny, still at a loss for words, stood up and mutely obeyed. "It's so warm," she managed at last, drawing the hood over her head.

"I expect a cloak like that has been charmed for extra warmth," said Mrs Weasley, sounding a bit breathless. "But really…"

She stopped, but Harry was sure she'd been about to say he shouldn't have gone to all that expense. She was sitting in one of the pair of leather recliners he'd got for the elder Weasleys. Mr Weasley wasn't saying a word during the proceedings -- he was too busy fiddling with the lever that caused the chair to recline.

"It's lovely, Harry," she began again. "How did you know what size to get?"

"Yeah, Harry," added Ron. "How did you know what size cloak to get?"

"I needed a new cloak," Ginny said quickly, saving Harry from having to reply. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose," Harry replied. And it had been. He'd bought her gift at the beginning of the month, and he'd been doubly glad of his choice when he'd noticed how thin her regular cloak was the night of the ball.

"Did you have to get Slytherin colours?" asked Ron.

"Really, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione. "They suit her colouring. They're not really Slytherin colours; the green is much too cheerful."

"Thank you, Harry, it's perfect," said Ginny, pointedly ignoring her brother as she removed her cloak and sat down next to Harry on the floor once again. She put her arms around him and kissed him quickly on the mouth. As she pulled back, the look in her eyes clearly told him he'd be getting a more thorough thank-you later. Harry grinned back at her, reaching up to pull a few strands of stray tinsel out of her hair.

Ginny turned to reach beneath the enormous Christmas tree, which she and Harry had spent the afternoon following the ball decorating with sparkly glass balls, magical candles, and flitting fairies. She withdrew a solid-looking, square package. "This is from me."

Ron leaned forward to get a better look. "At least I'm not the only one who got books this year," he commented dryly.

"Ron, those books are going to be quite useful if you're planning on moving into your own flat," Hermione pointed out.

Ron didn't bother replying, but he didn't look very thrilled with his presents, either. Harry didn't much care. He was still rather put out with Ron for walking in on him and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks. In any case, he was busy unwrapping his gift, which proved to be a book, but not a cookbook. It looked a lot like the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year.

He opened it to the first page, which was filled with pictures of him, Ron and Hermione. They'd been taken at Hogwarts, and Harry suspected that Ginny had got them from Colin Creevey. He found himself wishing she'd put in a picture of herself, but turning the page, Harry saw that she had included some.

But then his eye was drawn to a picture of the two of them together. They were in their dress robes, his arms were around her, and he was gazing adoringly at her. He couldn't see her expression in the picture, since her back was turned to the camera, but he remembered this moment, and he remembered the way her eyes had shone at him. As Harry watched, the images in the photograph leaned towards each other and began to kiss. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the picture. Did he really look at Ginny like that? He had no idea the love he felt for her could be so evident on his face.

"Ginny," he said, "how did you get this picture? It had to have been taken at the ball."

"I only got it yesterday. Colin owled it to me along to me with the others. He didn't have all that many though."

Harry turned several more pages and saw the rest of the album was empty. "That's all right. I still love it. Thanks." He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. Like Ginny, he could save a proper thank you for later.

"I reckoned you could save the rest of the pages for the future," Ginny told him, her eyes full of promise.

The sound of the kitchen door opening heralded someone's arrival, and it wasn't long before the Burrow was full of family and almost-family. Percy and Penelope came in, their arms laden with colourfully wrapped presents, followed not long afterwards by the twins' noisy entrance. George had brought Pauline along with him. Last of all came Bill, who had managed to Portkey all the way from Cairo for the day.

More presents were opened, including the usual round of Weasley jumpers. Harry didn't notice anything different about his at first; it was the same shade of emerald green that Mrs Weasley always said brought out the colour in his eyes. But then he saw that Ginny had one in the same colour. Ron's face had flashed a disgruntled look when he opened the package containing his jumper and saw it was maroon, but when Hermione received a matching sweater, he began to laugh. George's jumper turned out to be an impossibly bright lemon yellow, and Pauline didn't look too pleased that hers came in a shade to match. Penelope's was perhaps the most curious of them all. It was light blue, matching Percy's, but when she tried it on, it seemed to be rather too large for her.

"I think that's Mum's way of telling Penelope she's ready for grandchildren," Ginny whispered in Harry's ear. "She's built extra room into her jumper this year."

Hermione got a bit of a shock when she opened the package a red-eared Ron handed to her. It contained a bottle of perfume, which he'd had made up on special order at the Apothecary. Everyone had a good laugh when Pauline's gift to George exploded in his face as he opened it. George looked quite proud of his girlfriend as the smoke cleared, and he pulled out a very loud Hawaiian shirt.

The mouth-watering smell of roast turkey had begun to fill the house, and it wasn't long before Mrs Weasley left her comfy recliner and began to bustle about in the kitchen as she saw to the rest of the meal preparations. Pauline, Hermione and Penelope went to lend her a hand. Meanwhile, Bill had discovered Ron's presents from Hermione.

"The Joy of Suds?" he asked, holding up one of the books, a quizzical look on his face. "Whose is this?"

"It's mine," Ron mumbled.

"That's quite an informative book," Percy put in. "I consult it often."

"Bet he'd rather get The Joy of Sex," Bill muttered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Harry sneaked a look at Mr Weasley, who continued to occupy himself with his recliner, a smirk on his face now. It looked as if he was already planning how he would charm it so that it would work magically.

When Harry turned his head back around, he noticed with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Fred had picked up his photo album and had already opened it. Harry gritted his teeth as Fred turned the page. His eyes widened, leaving Harry with no doubts as to what picture had caught his attention.

At that moment, Mrs Weasley stuck her head in from the kitchen. "Arthur, could you come and give me a hand in the kitchen? We need more space in here if we're all going to fit round the table."

"Coming, dear," he replied, reluctantly leaving his recliner.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that Fred would be distracted enough to leave the photo album alone. He should have known better than to trust his luck.

"George," Fred said, his voice deceptively calm, "I think you ought to have a look at this."

Harry wished there was some way he could disappear on the spot. Fred handed the album over to his twin, who said, "Nice, er… That is a dress, isn't it, Gin? Although from this angle it looks like there's not much of a top to it. I can't believe Mum let you buy something like that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ginny pull her wand out. George might have been about to make another comment, but he closed his mouth immediately. But the damage had been done. Both Bill and Percy had craned their necks and had got a good look at the picture. Percy looked particularly horrified. Ginny gave a sigh of exasperation, grabbed the photo album out of her brother's hands, and snapped it shut.

"Mum didn't let her buy it," Ron informed George. "Harry got that for her. With what he got her for Christmas, I wouldn't be surprised if he got her some knickers next."

"It was a cloak, Ron," Harry reminded him. "I got her a cloak."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but Ginny was faster. Turning her wand on him, she cried, "Confiscare biancheria!"

Ron went strangely pale, and he gave a strangled sound. The next thing Harry knew, Ginny was holding a pair of red silk boxer shorts in her hand. "Oh, this is tasteful," she said showing them to the room. There was printing across the front of the shorts that read, "Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Percy was overcome with a sudden coughing fit. "Where did you get those?" he choked.

Both Fred and George were overcome with glee. "Why," asked Fred, "does Penelope visit the same shops as Hermione does?"

Percy blushed, while his mouth worked soundlessly, confirming Fred's conclusion.

"You really have to watch these studious types," commented George. "They can be quite surprising."

The twins seemed to be finished with Percy after that, and they turned back to their sister. "Nice spell, Ginny," said Fred. "I'm quite impressed."

"I take it you've practised that one on Harry?" chimed in George.

Ginny turned her wand on them. "I wouldn't push it if I were you. I'm quite good at shrinking spells as well."

Harry didn't know whether it was Ginny's threat that shut the twins up or the sudden appearance of their mother in the living room. "What's going on in here?" Mrs Weasley scowled at her children. "It's Christmas! Haven't you got anything better to do than fight?" Fred and George made a good show at looking repentant. "That's better," Mrs Weasley went on. "Dinner is going to be ready in a few minutes. We're still waiting for Remus and Sirius…"

At her words there came the sounds of Christmas greetings coming from the kitchen, as Remus and Sirius had undoubtedly arrived just in time. The entire family was soon anticipating an enormous roast turkey with enough trimmings to rival any Hogwarts Christmas feast. Mr Weasley had managed to charm room to spare into the kitchen so that no one felt crowded at the table.

Harry had to wonder if there had ever been so many seated around this table during any Christmas past, and he had to conclude that there hadn't. Yet there was an unspoken sense of someone missing all the same. This was the first Christmas without Charlie, and it was almost as if Mrs Weasley had gone out of her way to fill the house to bursting in order to make up for it. Somehow it all only served to drive the point home that there should have been another among their number on this day.

As they were about to tuck into their meal, Remus Lupin raised his glass. "A toast. First of all, to Molly and Arthur for opening their home to us this Christmas."

At this, Sirius raised his glass as well and added, "Not only this Christmas, but they opened it to me this autumn. Not to mention everything they've done for Harry."

Mrs Weasley began to blush, but she looked pleased.

"To everyone here," Remus continued. "And to those we've lost as well."

"To Charlie," added Bill. "Wherever you are now, we won't forget you."

Everyone else solemnly raised his glass and drained it in tribute. Then Sirius spoke up again. "We won't forget. Not the family, and not those who were there. As long as someone remembers, Charlie is still with us in a way."

The idea of people being forgotten had been weighing on Harry's mind since Halloween. While he knew the Weasleys would never forget their second son, he wondered about those whose names he didn't know, and about those who didn't know about Charlie. Their sacrifices needed to be acknowledged.

Harry had received all that money from the Ministry on Halloween -- money he'd neither wanted nor needed -- and he'd been thinking about what he could do with it. He had an idea now, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up, or even if he ought to. It was Christmas, after all. It wasn't supposed to be a time for such solemnity.

The rest of the family seemed to concur with this, and the conversation turned to other topics. Zonko's was almost ready to reopen for business, and Pauline had managed to put together an owl order service before the holidays, meaning things weren't a complete loss for them this year. Bill told how things were progressing for him in Egypt, while Percy and Mr Weasley talked of various goings-on at the Ministry.

Hermione told them all how someone had pulled a prank on Professor Snape the morning after the ball, by putting something in his pumpkin juice that turned his face green. Remus and Sirius demanded details, but Hermione was at a loss to provide them. Things got a bit tricky when one of the twins suggested Ginny might know something about it, and Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, hoping Ron wouldn't mention that Ginny hadn't spent the night in her dormitory and thus hadn't been present at breakfast. Ginny merely answered coolly that she didn't know anything about it.

Luckily at that moment, one of Percy's sausages exploded, distracting everybody.

"That remind you of anything Perce?" asked Fred, as George doubled over laughing. Mrs Weasley glared at the pair of them. Then she pushed her chair back, obviously intending to clear the table.

"Mrs Weasley," Penelope said, "why don't you let us see to the pudding? You go into the living room and relax."

"Nonsense, dear," Mrs Weasley replied. "It's no trouble."

Pauline got to her feet. "We insist. You and Mr Weasley go sit."

"Yes," added Hermione, "let us take care of it. Come on, Ginny."

Somehow the girls convinced Mrs Weasley to leave the kitchen, and they began clearing the table. "What are you all waiting for?" Pauline asked the boys, who hadn't moved. "You're only in the way. Clear off, and we'll call you when it's time to come back for pudding."

"Well, if you put it that way," said George winking at her, "your wish is our command. Beats getting put to work, doesn't it?"

Harry froze as he came into the living room. Mrs Weasley had evidently been looking over the various presents that had been left there and was picking up the photo album. Harry gave himself a mental kick for not putting it somewhere out of sight before they'd all gone in to dinner. After what had happened with the twins, he ought to have thought of it.

It was too late now, though. If he said something, she'd be suspicious and be sure to open it, so he crossed his fingers and trusted to his luck. It was not to be. She did open the album, and as he watched she seemed to catch her breath in a gasp. Harry hung back expecting a verbal barrage to come his way, but Mrs Weasley had other things in mind.

"Ginny," she called, "could you come in here a moment, please?" She sounded completely reasonable, but Harry didn't let his guard down.

Ginny stuck her head in from the kitchen. "What is it, Mum?"

"It's about that ball you attended the other night. Where did you get dress robes for that? I know they were on your school list, but I didn't think you'd ended up buying any."

Harry saw Ginny's eyes drop to the photo album in Mrs Weasley's hand. "Harry bought them for me," she said evenly.

Mrs Weasley turned to him. "Really, Harry, a cloak and dress robes, as well? It's far too much."

Fred let out a whistle. "What did you do, Ginny?"

"It must have been something really good to get Harry to buy you all that," added George.

Mrs Weasley rounded on her sons, but once again her daughter was even faster. Ginny's wand was out and she performed the same spell she had earlier on Ron. Two sets of boxer shorts flew through the air into her waiting hand, while she glared at her brothers. She held up her prize mockingly. One pair of shorts was a violent lime green, while the other had a slogan on it: "Beaters have bigger clubs."

"MUM!" cried Fred, "are you going to let her get away with that?"

"Honestly, it's Christmas," added George.

"Of course I'm going to let her get away with that," replied Mrs Weasley. "You deserved it. In fact, you can do the washing up as well."

"We weren't the only one making comments," said Fred.

"Yeah, Ginny got Ron's shorts earlier," remarked George.

"Thanks loads," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"The three of you can do the washing up," pronounced Mrs Weasley to her youngest sons, who looked mutinous. "Harry, could I have a word, please?"

Harry told himself he might have known all this was too good to be true. He followed Mrs Weasley into a corner away from the others. "I was serious about you spending too much money," she said. "It's not just those dress robes for Ginny or even the cloak. It's everything. Those armchairs you got for us are far too extravagant."

"I only wanted to pay you back. You've opened your home to me, and you won't take any rent…"

"Harry, you're family. You know that. I don't charge family rent."

"Yes, all right, but it's Christmas, and you deserve something nice. Both you and Mr Weasley. I thought you'd like a comfortable place to sit and do your knitting. And with Mr Weasley's leg… I thought it would be nice for him to be able to put his feet up."

"All right," Mrs Weasley relented. "I won't say any more about it. But this is the last time, do you understand me? Come on, dear, the girls ought to have the pudding ready by now."

Pauline had a good laugh at the twins when she discovered they'd been assigned clean-up duty after everyone had eaten his fill of plum pudding. "You two will never learn when to quit, will you?"

"I certainly hope not," George told her.

"Well, let's get on with it," grumbled Ron. "I've got another one of these to go to, and Hermione doesn't want to be late to her aunt's. And I have to go put on some underwear."

"That's a bit more information than I wanted," said George.

"What of it?" shot back Ron. "You're in the same boat as I am."

"You're getting to be as bad as Percy, mate," said Fred, shaking his head. "He's off to Penelope's parents' soon."

"Oh, just shut it," replied Ron, picking up a dish towel.

"You won't have to worry, Ron," commented Pauline, as she left the kitchen. "George and I aren't going over to see my family until tomorrow, so he can finish up whatever you haven't got time for."

"Why don't you and Ginny test out that new cloak of hers and go for a walk?" Mrs Weasley suggested to Harry, who was all too happy to get some time alone with her for the first time all day.

"Why doesn't he have to help with the washing up?" asked Ron.

"Because he didn't do anything to hack off our sister," Fred reminded him.

Harry put on his own cloak and took Ginny's hand as they stepped out into the frosty late afternoon and began to walk towards the orchard. Their breath came out in white plumes that hung in the air behind them. As soon as they were far enough from the house that they wouldn't be easily spotted, Harry pulled her close for a lingering kiss.

"Thank you for that photo album," he said when he pulled back several minutes later. "It's perfect. I'll be able to see you whenever I want. That picture from the ball is especially nice."

Ginny slid her hands from around his neck and laid them against his chest. "Isn't it though? Colin made two copies, so I can have one, too." She stood up on her toes and leaned in again. "I haven't seen nearly enough of you this holiday," she added before she kissed him again.

"We'll have all day tomorrow," Harry said when they'd separated once again.

"Yes, and then you'll have to go back to the Ministry."

"Can't be helped. I took time off to go to the ball with you."

She took his hand and they started walking again. "So how's the new cloak?" he asked after a few moments.

"Very warm. Really, I couldn't ask for better. Only… well, what made you think of it?"

"I spotted it in Madam Malkin's shop when I went in to pick up my dress robes a few weeks back. Madam Malkin's got to have some sort of sixth sense about these things, because she noticed me looking at it. And she remembered you, because she commented that it would go perfectly with your colouring."

"It's just what I needed. My old cloak was really getting worn."

"Yes, I noticed the other night. I was glad I'd got this for you then."

"You'll have to allow me to thank you properly, in that case."

And she pulled him behind another tree and proceeded to do so. After several minutes, Harry had to stop. This wanting her and not being able to do anything about it was driving him mad. He broke the kiss, but he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. These moments alone were all too precious.

She snuggled into his embrace, while he rested his chin on the top of her head and looked out across the landscape. They were nearing the far end of the orchard, and he could see a hedge through the last of the trees, one that must mark the end of the Weasleys' property. On the opposite side, the land fell away into rolling fields.

As Harry stared across them, his thoughts began to drift towards their inevitable separation -- she'd broken the news to him that she wasn't going to be able to stay until the next term began just yesterday -- but they didn't stop there. They continued into the future. What was going to happen in June, he wondered. She'd be free then, but where would they be, exactly?

"Gin?"

"Yes, Harry?" she replied into his chest.

"I've been thinking…"

"What about?"

"Well, us and… Later."

"What are you talking about?"

Harry took a hand from around her waist and ran it through his hair, as he thought about what he wanted to say to her. An image of the picture from the ball flashed through his mind, and there was something calming about it. "Well, what do you see our future like?"

"I haven't really thought about it. All I can think about is finishing school."

He pulled back so he could look into her eyes. "Think about it now. For me. Where are we going to be in a year?"

"I… I don't know. You'll still be working at the Ministry of Magic, I suppose. And I'll be… I don't know what I'll be doing. Professor McGonagall wanted me to think about what I'd do once I left school, but I just don't know what that is."

He took a deep breath. "All right, but I need to know something. When you see yourself a year from now, doing whatever it is you decide to do with your life, am I there with you?"

"Yes, of course, you are. How could you even ask that?"

"And in five years? Ten?"

"Isn't it a bit soon for us to be talking about that?"

"No, no it isn't. Why would it be too soon? I realised I was in love with you over a year ago, and after all we've been through since then, there's no doubt in my mind that we belong together. All that's left for me to ask you is if you feel the same way. Do you believe we belong together?"

When she replied he saw no trace of reservation in her eyes. "Yes, Harry."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Maybe this was going to work out after all. "So then you'd be willing… eventually… when you're ready for it… to…"

"To what?"

"Marry me?"

Her jaw dropped.

"I haven't got a ring. I didn't exactly plan this… It just came out."

She was gaping at him, and tears were starting to form in her eyes. He wasn't too sure what to make of her reaction.

"Ginny, say something, please…"

"Harry, you're a complete idiot. YES! Yes, I'll marry you!"

She launched herself against him, smiling, and he didn't think he'd ever known such a profound sense of relief. At the same time, he couldn't fathom what he'd just asked of her, or that she'd accepted.

"We don't need to say anything now," he said, grinning into her hair. "This can be our secret. We can wait until you're out of school, or even longer before we decide anything. It's up to you. Whenever you're ready. I just needed to know if you wanted…"

"Yes, I wanted! Now stop being such a git about it, and kiss me."

By the time they walked back to warmth of the house, smiling with their secret, it was fully dark out.

*

"You're not going to spend our last evening together before I go back to school working, are you?" Ginny asked. She'd just found Harry sitting at the table in the corner of the living room with a file full of parchment spread out in front of him. She went over to him and put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly as he leaned his head back against her stomach.

"This isn't work, actually. Ron brought this from the office, but he only just now remembered to give it to me. If I'm going to look at it at all, it has to be now, because he'll need it back by tomorrow night when he goes back in to work."

"What is it?"

"Remember that Quidditch match Ron and I went to? I wrote to you about that, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Well, this is the Aurors' report from it."

"What do you want that for?"

"There was something odd about the Falmouth Seeker's broom. Ron thought it had been hexed -- that match wasn't what you'd call clean -- but I'm not so sure. It's mainly curiosity."

"Well, come be curious on the sofa with me. Mum's been much better about us lately."

Indeed, Mrs Weasley had barely batted an eyelash at them when she'd gone to bed the previous night, leaving the two of them alone in the living room. They'd made a late evening of it. Ginny still thought it was too good to last. Perhaps her mum had simply overdone it with the eggnog.

"Curious? About what? How much actual reading am I going to get done?"

"If you tell me what you're looking for, maybe you'll get through it faster."

Harry tilted his head back and smiled up at her. "Come on, then."

He picked up the file, and they moved over to the couch with them. "Here, this is what I wanted," Harry said, when they were seated. He leaned against Ginny and pointed out the relevant lines. "Here's the list of all the tests they did on the broom, and there wasn't anything wrong with it. None of the sorts of curses or hexes that they were looking for anyway."

"So what do you think happened then?"

"There's always the possibility that the broom was hexed, but it was something new; something they haven't got a test for."

"Don't they have something general they can look for?"

"They did that, it turned up nothing. Of course there might be ways of hiding it. But I don't think that's what happened. Something just tells me that the broom was charmed, yes, but simply charmed to go faster than it was meant to. And that's why it crashed."

Ginny nodded, watching Harry closely. There was a light in his eyes she hadn't seen very often these days. It made her feel hopeful. "Is there any way of telling what was done to it then?"

"I don't know… What I can't shake off is the idea that if someone had done something else to it. Made the tail a bit different, say, or I don't know, something, then the broom would be more stable. It was shaking. That's what made people think it was a curse. And there was this bloke there on the Wanderers' side. He was doing curses. Sent the referee off to Diagon Alley. People just thought it was him. Look, here it is… He used…"

But then Harry went very quiet and pale. "What?" Ginny asked, alarmed now that the light had gone again. "What did he use?"

"It's a Dark Arts spell," Harry replied dully.

"Yes, you said that, didn't you? A curse…" But Ginny has a nagging suspicion he wasn't talking about something that had happened at the Quidditch match. "Harry…" she coaxed when he didn't respond. She could practically see the shutters coming down. "Harry, what is it?"

He turned away, cursing under his breath. He buried his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up until they hung rather precariously from his ears. Ginny looked at the parchment, wondering what he could possibly have seen to cause this reaction. None of it made any sense to her. "Harry," she tried again, "don't do this. Please…"

She put her hand on his shoulders, turning him and forcing him to look at her. He lowered his hands, and his glasses fell lopsidedly back onto the bridge of his nose. "You made a promise to me last year that we'd talk if there was a problem. I want you to keep that promise now. You have to trust me."

He hesitated for a long moment, before swallowing hard. "The spell I used to defeat Voldemort was a Dark Arts spell," he spat.

Ginny knew she must have gone pale, but she also knew she couldn't let on that she'd already suspected this. "What makes you say that?"

"It's the spell Parkins used to send the referee off. Look at the incantation in the report." He jabbed his finger at the words "exulo in Diagon Alley", which were printed on the parchment. "That was part of the spell I used."

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. It matters to me."

Ginny looked away for a moment, searching for her reply. Of its own accord, her eye fell on the Christmas tree with its twinkling fairy lights. "Voldemort was evil. You had to use whatever means you could to defeat him. Who did you hurt with that spell besides Voldemort and yourself? No one. And the harm you did to yourself, you did willingly. You've got to stop this, Harry. You can tell me these things, and it's not going to change my opinion of you as a person. You are a good person, Harry, one of the best I know. I wouldn't love you if I didn't think you were a good person."

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but this isn't exactly easy. I gave up everything for this last summer, and now I find out it was Dark Arts on top of that. And all this time I thought I'd done right. It turns out Rita Skeeter was onto something with that article."

"You didn't know at the time. You did what you thought you had to. Rita Skeeter couldn't have known, if you didn't. It was a lucky guess on her part."

"I can't help but feel I've done wrong, Ginny. There's this voice in the back of my head that keeps telling me I'm nothing but a worthless freak after all. That I'm… unnatural."

She pulled him against her and pushed his head onto her shoulder, stroking his hair while the lights on the tree blurred before her eyes. "Harry, I don't think any less of you for this. I promise I don't. You're going to have to trust me on that one. You have to stop doing this to yourself. If you want things to work out between us, you can't shut me out. That voice in your head… That's those, those… Well they aren't even human, are they? That's them talking. Listen to me, Harry. I am not going to leave you. I couldn't. You're a part of me, and you have been for a long time now."

He was still against her for a while, unable to reply, but she felt him clutch at her, as if she was a lifeline. Ginny continued to sit there and hold him in silence, stroking his back soothingly, while her tears fell in silence. She hurt for him, both for the past and for the future.

After a while it seemed as if he relaxed in her arms, and she was sure he'd fallen asleep. She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, before removing his glasses for him and settling back more comfortably so that they were half lying on the sofa and wishing they could just stay like this.

She continued to sit, holding him, not knowing how much time had passed and not really caring, until she felt him start to move fitfully against her. As time wore on, he became more and more agitated, his movements more jerky. He had to be dreaming, she thought.

"You don't realise, do you, just how much I love you?" she said, not quite knowing why. She knew he couldn't really hear her. But at the sound of her voice, he seemed to calm. "You can't understand how anyone could love you. But I do, and some day you'll understand. I'd do whatever I could to take all this pain away from you. I wish I knew an easy way. You're a good person, and you need to learn that. Someday I hope you do."

Harry sighed and settled in more peacefully. At some point Ginny knew she would have to wake him up so they could go up to bed… It just wouldn't be quite yet. She didn't know when she'd have another opportunity to hold him like this.

*

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table spooning cereal into his mouth when Ginny entered the room, smiling and happy. What was she doing here, he wondered vaguely. Wasn't she supposed to be at school? But then he remembered; it was the Christmas holiday.

"Morning, Harry," she greeted brightly. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Harry glanced up at the window, where an impossibly yellow sun blinded him. Ginny didn't bother waiting for a reply. She simply took a seat opposite him and waved her wand.

"Accio teapot!" she cried, catching the object deftly in both hands as if it was a Quaffle when it came flying across the kitchen towards her. Harry was reminded that she'd tried out for the Gryffindor House Quidditch team the previous year. He knew she hadn't tried out for the team this year, but she could have if she'd wanted. He slumped a little in his seat.

Ginny picked up the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, and Harry heard her cluck to herself in a pitying manner as she read the headline. Harry had already seen it. "Department of Mysteries Proves Muggles Inferior," it proclaimed.

Ginny blithely waved her wand again, summoning some toast this time, and magically buttering it once it had arrived on the plate in front of her. Harry avoided her eye.

"Want some?" she asked suddenly, and he looked up to see her holding out a slice of toast. For some reason, the sight of the butter melting into the nooks of the warm, crisp bread turned his stomach.

"No thanks," he mumbled. He reached for his mug, thinking a sip of tea might help settle the churning within, but he realised it was empty. Before he could get his hand on the teapot, Ginny had waved her wand again, magicking tea into his mug.

Harry was on his feet in an instant, anger erupting from every pore. "Will you just stop showing off?" he shouted.

In the next moment, he'd reached across the table, grabbing her by the lapels of her white dressing gown and hauling her to her feet, knocking crockery aside in the process. The sound of smashing ceramic echoed through the room. Ginny was staring at him haughtily; she thought she was better than he was, and they both knew it. He backhanded her, causing her head to snap to the side, but her expression, when she turned to look at him once more, didn't change.

"That the best you can do? It must be. Muggles are inferior to wizards, after all."

The condescension written on her features made him even more enraged. He couldn't bear to look at her another moment. His right hand balled reflexively into a fist and smashed into her face with a sickening crunch, knocking her backwards over her chair, which broke under the force of the blow.

Harry turned the table over onto her, sending its remaining contents flying. His cereal bowl clattered to the floor, teetering in a mockery of a dance until it righted itself and came to a halt.

Then everything was silent. Eerily so.

Harry felt an odd sense of satisfaction as he took a step forward to look upon his handiwork. Ginny's eyes were wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling as a trickle of blood oozed from one corner of her mouth. She wasn't moving, and more blood was seeping from behind her head, pooling on Mrs Weasley's pristine floor. Harry smiled.

"Maybe we're the same now, you and I, aren't we?" he said to no one in particular.

Ginny didn't respond, but there was something mocking in her glassy stare.

"Neither one of us is magical now."

Ginny continued to stare at the ceiling.

Harry opened his eyes and stared, panting, at the ceiling overhead, still orange to his eyes in spite of the semi-darkness, while his heart continued to pound.

It had only been a nightmare he told himself. Just a horrible nightmare. But he'd had it before. As he shook off the remnants of sleep, he realised that this was the dream that had been troubling him for almost two months now. Or the beginnings of it had. He'd didn't think it had ever gone that far in the past.

Had he cried out in his sleep? Was that what had woken him up this time, or had it simply been the horror of what his dream self had done? He listened but heard no sound of footsteps on the stairs, and this helped to calm him further. At least Ron had worked last night and hadn't been subjected to Harry's troubled sleep this time.

Harry reached over to the night table with a clammy hand and looked at his watch, squinting at it, as he struggled to hold it steady enough to read the hour. It was almost time for him to get up and get ready for work. Another thought struck him as he heaved himself out of bed. Ginny was leaving today. As he recalled his dream, he couldn't help but think that might not be such a bad thing after all. It would give him time to get over this, whatever it was.

He shook his head. How could he be thinking that? How could he take that dream seriously? He'd never, ever do anything like that to Ginny, and she'd never look at him the way she had in her dream. He could never be that angry with her. Could he? But something in the back of his mind insisted on reminding him of the previous summer. He had been very angry then, but not to that extent. He hadn't been very nice to Ginny, certainly, but he hadn't been nice to anyone. And he was past all that. Wasn't he?

He shook himself and grabbed his dressing gown. Dwelling on it wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he needed a shower desperately. He was drenched in sweat.

*

Ginny contemplated the golden dress robes she'd worn to the ball for a long moment before putting them away in her wardrobe. She wasn't going to need them anymore, and there was no point taking them along with her. She turned back to her bag and rifled through it one last time, making sure she had everything she'd need. She'd packed as many of her mother's hand-knit jumpers as she could find.

"Are you almost ready to go?"

Harry's voice at her back startled her, causing her to drop the hairbrush she'd been about to add to her bag. Ginny turned towards him swiftly, keeping herself placed between her bag and the doorway, where Harry was standing, eyeing her curiously. "Yes, I'll be along in a moment."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Well… I don't really want to go…"

"Then don't. Spend the rest of the holiday here."

"I can't, Harry. We've been through this. I may have got caught up on all the work I missed this autumn, but you know everyone's going to be watching me like a hawk from now on. It's going to be easier for me to work ahead if I can do it with no distractions."

She stared pleadingly at him, silently begging him to understand. If he put up an argument about her leaving now, she didn't know how long she'd be able to hold him off and not blurt out the truth.

"I know… I just hate this. It's over already," Harry replied, looking as if he might want to cross over the threshold. She took several steps towards him instead, so that if anyone should happen along, they'd both be in full view, and it would be apparent they weren't doing anything her mother would disapprove of.

"We managed this autumn. We can manage again. Then it'll be Easter. And then it won't be much longer at all until June."

Harry looked as if he wanted to argue some more, and so Ginny was grateful when he opened his mouth and merely asked, "Are you ready to go then?"

"Just give me another minute, and I'll be along." She moved until she was close enough to kiss his cheek. "Meet you downstairs?"

"All right."

Harry moved off down the corridor, and Ginny let out her breath before going back to her packing. It was only two days after Christmas, but she'd told her family that she was going back to school today to get ahead on her work for the coming term. Harry had agreed to take her as far as Hogsmeade using his Portkey before he went into the Ministry.

One final check of her bag, and she was as ready as she ever would be. She slung it over her shoulder and grabbed the cloak Harry had given her for Christmas out of her wardrobe. She was thankful it was so warm; she was going to need it up north.

After a quick goodbye to the rest of her family, it wasn't long before she found herself walking along the snowy path towards Hogwarts with Harry at her side.

"Are you sure you're not going to be late to work?" she asked. "You don't need to come the entire way up to the castle, you know."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Certainly. Didn't you know I wanted to come back to school early so I can continue my sordid little affair with Colin Creevey? But don't worry, you'll always have Mrs Mutt…"

"Stop, Ginny, it isn't funny."

"I know, but sometimes it's just easier to laugh."

They walked in silence until they'd reached the wrought iron gates, and there beside the stone columns, Harry pulled her into his arms. She could feel him trembling with suppressed emotion, and it brought a lump to her throat.

"It gets harder each time," he whispered hoarsely. "I don't want you to go."

"It's only six more months. It's less than it was."

"It's still too long."

Ginny drew back far enough so that she could look at him, and for a long moment she didn't say anything. She just stood there, memorising his features. "I love you, Harry," she said at last. "And the day is going to come when we can be together and no one will have anything to say about it. I promise. Unless you've changed your mind."

Harry tightened his grip on her. "Come here, and I'll show you if I've changed my mind."

She looked around, making certain they were out of sight of the castle before pulling him towards her for one last kiss. She allowed all her feelings for him to pour into their embrace and felt him return it with equal passion. They pulled apart some time later, each blinking back tears.

"I have to go," Harry said. "I'm going to be late as it is. I'll send you an owl."

Ginny could only nod as she watched him step back. He gave her hand one final squeeze, before letting it go so he could activate his Portkey. She waited until he'd disappeared, and then she looked around her once more. A harsh wind was blowing from a leaden sky, and she shivered in spite of her heavy cloak.

Certain that no one was watching now, she took her bag from her shoulder, opened it, and dug through it until she found what she was looking for. She took out a pair of warm gloves and put them on before pulling out a tiny broom, which hovered in the air in front of her when she let it go. Tapping it with her wand, she muttered, "Engorgio."

The tiny broom immediately returned to its normal size. She slung her bag back over her shoulder, slipping her head through the strap to make sure it stayed in place. She didn't need any distractions for what she was about to undertake. Placing her wand in her hand, she then muttered, "Point me," and the wand spun in her palm indicating north. With a clear sense of direction now in mind, she mounted the Firebolt, pointed it towards the north east, and kicked off from the frosty ground.

To Be Continued…

A/N: I borrowed a line from Firebolt909 in this chapter. I hope she won't mind, since I'll be giving it back now. (It's the "Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" line.) I also forgot to mention, I've got a new beta as of last chapter. Thanks to Jo for looking this over and catching my wonky phrasing. That's what happens when you rewrite. Thanks to everyone else who's looked over my chapters before I post them, as well, and thanks to all of you who have reviewed. It's taken me about twice as many chapters as I expected to get to this point in the story, but I'm here at last.