I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

Ginny had grown active, as children her age were wont to do. Less than half a year old, she could only express this in rolling over and waving her arms in unspoken demands to be picked up, but the Weasleys could see the fire in their daughter's eyes.

"First girl in generations," Arthur said in wonder, still bemused at the thought. The house was quiet – it was Christmas Eve, and the other children were asleep.

Molly brushed a finger along her drowsing daughter's cheek. "She may be. But she's got brothers. She'll be so strong."

"Merry Christmas, loves."

"Merry Christmas."