Author's Note: Hi you guys! This is just a little fluffy one-shot for all my Ginny/Harry shippers out there. It's my first H/G story, so please tell me what you think! Aaaand I know it's a little early for Christmas stories… but Christmas is the best holiday everrrr!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Consider this a thank you to J.K. Rowling, who's universe that she created, I would love to be a part of.

Title: Dizzy

Summary: The silence of a snowy Christmas morning leads to musings of a wandering mind for Ginny Weasley. A little Harry interaction towards the end. A Holiday One-Shot. H/G Fluff.

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

It was quiet.

And how Ginny Weasley had slowly fallen in love with the quiet. Blankets of snow lay hushed on the ground, and more of this beautiful white precipitation was floating towards the earth, covering the boot tracks of the previous day. The wind was silent, still in the dawn of the new morning. The moon, sitting low on the horizon, and the stars, glittering brilliantly against the indigo sky, produced a light that was being reflected back against the snow that lay upon the rolling countryside outside of the Burrow. Everything in luminance seemed to be basking in a majestic glow.

Ginny Weasley sat in her bed, her back pushing against the pillows around her. The quilt her mother had made for her when she was four years was wrapped protectively, gathered and tucked around her body. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, laying in her lap; her messy red hair encircling her head like a sort of crown. Chocolate eyes, the same as her mother's, were glued to the window in her bedroom; the curtains strewn open, providing an image of the winter wonderland outside.

The corners of the windows were slightly fogged, condensation resting there from the melting snow. Snowflakes were fluttering outside of the glass, neither being blown nor disturbed from the deceased wind. They were merely fluttering, searching for a spot to land on the ground below.

These snowflakes seemed to reflect the thoughts in Ginny's head at the moment. No real direction; just musings that stirred against the stillness of her mind.

Ginny wasn't sure why she had woken so early in the morning, but something about being up while the rest of those at the Burrow were asleep intrigued her—especially this moment that the universe seemed to be providing so uniquely for only her. Ginny simply couldn't remember when the last time the Weasley residence was so quiet.

It was Christmas day, meaning the Burrow was home to closest friends and family, as they had come to celebrate the holidays. Ron, Hermione, Harry, George, Percy, Bill, Fleur, Charlie—all were somewhere in the small, enchanted home, sleeping and resting for the exciting day ahead.

Because Christmas day was always adventuresome in the Burrow.

She was sure her mother would prepare a grand breakfast, complete with scrambled eggs, toast, oatmeal, ham, and applesauce. There would be two different kinds of tea, along with a pot of coffee to satisfy the pickiest of taste buds in the home. Andromeda Tonks would be the joining family that day, little Teddy Lupin in tow. Angelina Johnson would arrive soon after her; she had promised to spend Christmas morning with her extended family in South Africa. But, as she and George were sharing the flat above the joke shop in Diagon Alley, she would of course want to be with her fiancée for Christmas evening.

Hermione and Ron had arrived late the evening before, promising to spend Christmas Eve with Hermione's parents. It was the first time that Ron would be meeting the Grangers. Ron had felt a little sick in the week approaching; their mother had fussed about Ron's vanishing appetite, and George had done nothing but taken the mickey. Needless to say, when Hermione had finally arrived to take him to her parents' house in Surrey, Ron was a twinge green, slightly thinner than normal, and shaking with nerves. After a few private words, however, Hermione had seemed to calm the anxiety that Ron was feeling, and as they headed to the fireplace to Floo to the Granger Residence, she had briefly caught Ginny's eye, and Ginny swore she saw the slightest of a wink before the fire grew emerald and swept them away.

Ginny knew the reason why Ron was so nervous was because he had been planning to ask for Hermione's father for her hand in marriage. This Muggle tradition was one that Ron had stumbled upon one late night while he and Harry sat up in their London flat, discussing Ron's undeniable and ever growing desire in making Hermione his wife.

So Ginny had gone with Ron to get the ring. It was beautiful—simple and elegant, purely Hermione. It was sort of vintage, the golden band thin and the pear shaped diamond set into the ring with sapphires on either side of it. Their mother had nearly sobbed with joy when Ron had shown it to her, and Ron, himself, seemed to be a bit teary. Mrs. Weasley couldn't believe that her youngest son was going to be married.

But Hermione was a perfect fit, right down to the disastrous rows that the couple seemed to have. She was truly the only woman who could hold her own against her stubborn git of a brother.

And Ginny was more than happy to invite the bushy haired, brainy beauty into the family. She couldn't have worked fate any better than it had worked out itself.

Her mind drifted over the past few months. The rebuilding months, she liked to call them. So much of her life had changed since the Final Battle—since Voldemort had been defeated and Harry Potter had saved the world from the most evil Dark wizard of all time, accomplishing what he had been destined to do from the moment he was born.

The Weasley Family had suffered a terrible loss with the death of beloved son and brother Fred Weasley. The first couple days had been surreal. Ginny had continued to think that he was going to leap awake, and laugh, telling everyone that he was trying some new candy out for the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, a candy that made you go to sleep for a few days. But he didn't. He just lay there, a ghost of his final laugh on his face, and his body stiff. The witch who prepared his body for the funeral asked if the family wanted it rearranged, so that he would look peaceful, but George had been adamant against any such thing. He wanted to remember his brother for who he was—someone who enjoyed a good joke and a good laugh.

And even though Fred was George's twin, Percy had seemed to take Fred's death the worst. He stayed behind after the wake, sobbing over Fred's coffin. He had been guilt ridden about leaving the family behind, and wasting the last few precious years with his brother.

The Weasley Wizarding Wheezes closed for a week, but George knew that Fred would have wanted him to carry on with the project that they had worked their whole life towards. So, in honor of his twin brother, Frederick's Forever Chortling Jolly Pops were released as the joke shop's newest sweet. It was bewitched with a Laughter Charm, making for a bubbly good mood for an entire hour for the lucky customer.

To that day, they were still the number one selling product of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

A smile came to her mind as she thought about her brother, and her heart gave a tender squeeze. For a minute, her eyes swelled with tears, and she allowed a little half-laugh, half-cry. She still missed him. And this was the first holiday that he would miss with the family.

It would be a bittersweet day. But it was good to know that Fred lived on in the hearts of those who loved him.

A knock at the door jolted Ginny out of her little reverie, and she checked the watch on her bedside table. Six in the morning. She raised her eyebrows, grabbed her wand, and waved it, allowing the knocking visitor entrance into her room.

The door creaked open, and a black-haired, bespectacled young man peaked his face in the crack. His green eyes met hers, and she received a little flip in her stomach, as she allowed her lips to curve into a smile.

"Good morning," she whispered, and beckoned him in the room.

He shuffled quietly into the room, closing the door behind him, and quickly closed the distance between Ginny and himself. He was still in his bedclothes, long linen pants and a plain white undershirt. He was more attractive each day that she knew him. She shifted to the side and pulled the quilt around her down, inviting him into the bed with her. He climbed into her bed appreciatively, pulling the covers back over them, and wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her closely to him.

She smiled, accepting his warmth.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered in her hair, kissing her temple.

A slow blush crept over her cheeks, and she took his hands into hers, wrapping them more closely around her. "What are you doing up this early, Harry?"

Harry Potter. The Boy who Lived Twice. Her brother's best friend. And her very serious boyfriend.

She felt his shoulders shrug, and almost heard the sheepish smile in his voice as he said softly: "I don't like being away from you when you're so close to me. It's bad enough that you're at Hogwarts for your last year, and I can only see you on Hogsmeade weekends."

"You and I both know that's not necessarily true," Ginny remarked, lifting an eyebrow, and letting her mind wander to those times that she had snuck out of Gryffindor Tower after curfew this past term under Harry's Invisibility Cloak to meet him in the Shrieking Shack for a few stolen moments.

Harry dropped a kiss on the exposed skin of her freckled shoulder. "I didn't realize that I needed an excuse to want to see you."

"Mmmhmm." Ginny's heart skipped a beat inside of her chest. Oh, how she loved this man.

"So what are you doing up this early, Gin? Waiting for me to sneak into your bedroom for a midnight kiss?"

She heard the smile in his voice, and the one of her face matched his. She turned around him, raising a eyebrow. "You wish, Potter."

"Oh really? You weren't dreaming about this?"

He dropped his lips onto hers, and smiled when she responded softly. He pulled back and watched as she scowled adorably.

"Or this?"

He pushed her scarlet hair over her shoulder, and allowed his mouth to graze over the soft skin on her exposed neck. He felt the goose bumps raise on her arm, and a soft sigh pass over her slightly parted lips. She gripped his arm slightly harder when she pressed his teeth in to her, and sucked softly on the spot.

"Harry," she whispered softly.

He stopped for a moment, pausing to look into her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes were slightly glazed over. He felt his heart flutter happily underneath his chest. "I love you, Ginny."

The dark room seemed to warm with her smile. "I know."

"But really, what were you thinking about?" Harry asked as his girlfriend settling back against him.

"This past year," Ginny whispered, her voice laced with melancholy. "So much as changed, Harry."

Her mind once again was filled with thoughts of her lost brother and deceased friends like Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks who had also lost their lives in the war.

"Hey," he pushed her hair out of the way, and held her face, bending forward to see her brown eyes. "He wouldn't want you to be sad on Christmas."

A slow tear leaked from the corner of her eye. How did he know her so well?

"It was his favorite holiday." She laughed slightly, a goofy grin appearing on her face. "When we were younger, Mum had to control his and George's consumptions of chocolates on Christmas. Because they would get really hyper and start blowing things up with their immature magic. One year, Fred had gotten a hold of nearly half of the chocolate pudding Mum had made without any of us knowing, and it wasn't until our Christmas tree started mysteriously changing into different neon colors that we knew. Mum nearly blew the roof off she was so angry, but Dad was slightly fascinated. It flashed for hours."

Harry laughed along with Ginny, but soon, her cheerful chuckles turned into soft cries. She buried her head into Harry's shoulder and breathed in his scent that was so uniquely him, and felt herself cry harder. Harry, slightly bewildered in the moment, had long passed the awkwardness that came with comforting a crying woman, and simply held his girlfriend while her emotions poured out of her in the form of tears.

When he felt her slow up and pull away, he loosened his grip and tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. She grimaced, hiding her face.

"Don't look at me. I hate crying."

Harry shook his head. "You don't have to be ashamed, Ginny. It's hard losing a loved one."

Ginny drew in a breath, looking into Harry's green eyes. Her face was painted with dried tears, and her eyes glittered from the recent tears that had splashed over. "I just miss him so much," she breathed.

"I know, and that's okay." He spoke softly.

Ginny wondered briefly what she had done to deserve someone as genuine as Harry Potter.

"I saw Mum knitting his sweater the other day. Dad said something about Transfiguring it into a flower so that we could lay it on his grave."

"That would be nice," Harry said, but he had a feeling that he could have said anything at the moment. Ginny was merely sharing her thoughts at the moment, and didn't necessarily need his input. She just needed him to listen as she grieved her brother.

"Would you come with me when we go?" she asked suddenly.

Harry, astonished that she would feel like she would even have to ask, quickly answered her, wanting to reassure the doubt in her voice. "Of course, Gin. I would love to."

"He loved you. Like you were his own brother. And even when we were stranded at Aunt Muriel's, he wanted to be out there. Fighting against Voldemort. Fighting alongside of you."

Harry felt his breathing become labored. "I never wanted any of this, Gin. I never wanted you and Ron to have to lose your brother for me."

"Don't," Ginny said loudly, sitting straight up and turning around to face him. "Don't you do that! He loved you, Harry. Don't you get that? He fought for what he thought was right, and he died for what he knew was good. He believed in you. Don't start blaming yourself for what happened. Voldemort was the cause of the terrible things that happened during the war. He was the evil one. Not you, Harry. Never you. Don't dishonor my brother's memory by feeling guilty for what that monster did."

Harry felt tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision. He nodded tersely. "You're amazing, you know that, right?"

Ginny, her face and jaw set with determination, softened. "I love you, Harry. And I need you to know that I would never blame you, either."

Harry felt the tears that had been kept at bay spill onto his cheeks. With her small hands, Ginny wiped them away, and cradled his face in her hands.

"You're a hero, Harry, and it's about time you start accepting that."

And suddenly, he had pulled away. He was getting out of bed, and Ginny was confused by this abrupt behavior. She was opening her mouth to question him, to tell him get back into bed, to stop being such a sodding idiot…

And then… he was on his knee.

"Harry, what…?" the question hung limp in the air, falling away lifelessly.

Her eyes met his emerald ones, ablaze with fire. His spectacles glittered with the reflection of fluttering snow outside.

"Ginny," he breathed, and pulled something out of his pocket.

Was this happening?

In his hand was a small, simple diamond ring with a platinum band. She sucked in her breath, and felt her warm tears spill onto her cheeks.

Harry cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality. "Ginerva Weasley. I've been on more adventures that I can count. From the moment I got my scar--"

He paused, as Ginny reached forward, her fingers tracing the lightning bolt on his forehead, her hand coming to rest against his cheek. He felt his throat burn and watched as tears swelled and leaked from the corners of her eyes.

"—The Philosopher's Stone, saving you from Tom Riddle's diary and the Basilisk—"

Ginny let out a little sob, nodding her head, more tears spilling onto her cheeks.

"—To meeting Sirius, and watching Cedric die as Voldemort regained a body, to bloody Professor Umbridge and the Department of Mysteries," Harry paused, grabbing a hold of Ginny's hand and squeezing it in his own. "To my sixth and final year at Hogwarts, where I'd see you with Dean and jealousy would rage in me, because I just wanted to be with you. And then you caught the snitch and we won the cup, and you were staring at me with those beautiful brown eyes, and I just had to kiss you…"

Ginny laughed, and he did as well, remembering their magical first kiss.

"To Dumbledore's death, and realizing that it was better for me to end things with you to protect you. And hurting every moment I was away from you, watching you on the Marauder's Map, wishing that you could hear my thoughts, feel me thinking about you…"

"I knew..." Ginny started, but Harry quickly shushed her, and she fell silent.

"… and then finally facing Voldemort, knowing that I had to die, knowing that it had to be me to sacrifice myself so that you could live. And as I faced his wand, asking for death, all I could see was your face and your eyes and your smile. And then, I didn't die, and he was dead… and you were alive… and we got our second chance…"

He choked on a half-sob, half-laugh, and Ginny swiped clumsily with the back of her hand across her cheek, to wipe away the messy tears.

"But Ginny, all of that led to this moment. To me realizing that I feed off the adventures, I thrive on them, and I'm not ready for them to end. But I want you to meet them with me—by my side, forever…

"Marry me, Gin. And make this the next greatest adventure of my life."

Was she breathing? She couldn't feel her lungs. All that she could feel was her heart beating in her throat, and all she could see were those green eyes, so genuine, so full of love, staring at her with so much hope. A laugh bubbled in her throat the same time a sob escaped her mouth.

She nodded quickly, laughing and crying, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Yes," she breathed.

And suddenly, she was wearing the ring, and his lips were pressed against hers, and she could hardly breathe, and she wondered briefly is she was dreaming, and if she was, please don't let her wake up, because this was too good…

But it wasn't a dream. It was real. This was real.

And she was pulling away, laughing and pressing her forehead into his, and he stood up, pulling her up with him. Holding her close, never wanting for this moment to end, happily adventuring into this new reality—to them being husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, forever…

"Ginny Potter."

It was breath of a whisper, but she had heard it, and she looked into his eyes, amazed to see tears sparkling in them, and smiled widely and brightly.

"Yes. Forever."

---------

A/N: Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Let me know!  Review button is riiiiiggghhhttt over there!