"Did you just call me Mum?" Ginny said incredulously the instant that George opened the bathroom door.
"No." He looked very innocent, which usually meant that he wasn't.
"You did!"
"Believe what you want. While you do so, I'm going to go help myself to Christmas pudding. It looks quite delectable, if I do say so myself. And I do." He made a move to go around her, but she shuffled in front of him, hands on her hips.
"Who were you talking to?"
"Talking to?" he asked innocently.
"Yes, on Hermione's pink telephone."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and she folded her arms in front of her. "I saw her bring it to you. Who did you call? Who sent you that letter?"
From the dining table, Percy called for Ginny and George to join them for dessert. "We'll be right there." he called back, and then turned back to his sister.
"Come with me for a moment." she said, grabbing his wrist and reaching for a closed door across the hall from the bathroom.
"No!" he said sharply. She turned to face him, startled. "I mean," he shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I'd rather step into my room if you want to talk."
She stared at him for a moment, and then nodded, walking briskly to the closed door at the end of the hall and opening it. He followed her, and shut the door until it was open just a crack.
"Ugh, George, don't you clean in here?" She surveyed the piles of dirty clothes and stacks of papers that lay everywhere.
He gave a quick shrug. "I'm a busy man. Now, what do you care to discuss that can't wait until after our guests depart?"
She snorted. "Guests. George, this is your family. Some blood, some not. But we all care about you."
"Oh, not this again." he said, moving for the door. "Ginny, for the hundredth time, I don't want to have this conversation. Especially not tonight. So, if you don't have anything else--"
"Alright then." she said. "I do have something else. I want to know who you were talking to."
He sighed. "Just a friend."
"You don't have any Muggle friends."
"Who said it was a Muggle?"
"Who else do you know that wouldn't just send you an owl!"
For a long moment, he didn't respond, then said, simply, "Touché."
Ginny resisted the urge to gloat. "As I was saying, you don't have Muggle friends--"
"Don't I?"
"No. In fact, I'm not even sure you have any wizarding friends any more. Since you ignore all the ones you had." He went to protest, but she held up her hand. "Harry went to see Oliver Wood this week, he already told you. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were all there as well. Tell me, when was the last time you've seen them? Without trying to forcibly remove them from your shop, of course."
"I've seen them."
"When?"
"I--"
"Fred's funeral?"
"You're straying from the point, Ginny."
She sighed deeply. It was so like him to be exasperating, and she was pretty sure that she'd have to bring out the big guns at this point. "Fine then. I'm done talking."
"Alright then." he said with a satisfied nod, and reached for the door.
"Petrificus totalus!" In an instant, Ginny had whipped her wand out of her shawl (mentally thanking her mother for being the type to sew a wand pocket into almost everything) and hexed her brother, who fell backward onto the floor with an unceremonious thump. A particularly large pile of dirty clothes broke his fall. Ginny found herself mildly disappointed that he hadn't suffered a nastier tumble.
She stepped over him and reached into his pocket, pulling out the wrinkled papers. All was silent as she read the letter and George lay motionless on the floor. When she was finished, she nodded, as though the crumpled pages had answered all of her questions. She folded it again and stuffed it into the pocket of his shirt. Then she waved her wand lazily over him.
A second later, he was on his feet, face flushing with anger. She adjusted her shawl over her shoulders and regarded him placidly as he glared at her.
"That was bang out of order, Ginny!" he said angrily.
She was careful to keep annoyance out of her voice, though she felt it. Strongly. "So is shutting me out. I already lost one brother. I'm not planning on letting another one get away that easily."
"I'm not shutting you out. And you aren't losing me." he said gruffly, though he motioned for her to approach. She did, but warily, keeping her eyes on his wand hand, which remained in view until he enveloped her in a hug.
"I love you, George." she said, offering an out-of-character sentiment to balance her brother's aberrant display of affection.
"Love you too, Gin." He paused. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You're a dab hand at hexes. Does Harry know what he's getting into? "
"He knows. Does your Muggle girlfriend know what she's getting into?"
George groaned loudly. "Ugh. I don't have a Muggle girlfriend. And why couldn't you have forgotten about this?"
"Remember how you took the mickey out of me for months when you found out I was dating Michael Corner?"
"The shaggy-haired louse."
"You should talk."
"It's different. I retain masculine good looks. He could have been mistaken for a second-year Hufflepuff girl."
Ginny laughed. "All I mean is, why are you embarrassed about going to see this girl? From what I can recall, she was rather nice. And she quite fancied you and Fred."
"How do you mean?"
"She was all over the two of you."
"She was a stripper. As it was explained to me, it was her job to be all over everyone."
"No, it was different. You could tell."
"Oh? So, what could you tell from the lap dance that she gave Luna Lovegood?"
Ginny considered. "You could tell that she thought Luna was sweet. And that other than that, it was strictly business." She continued. "So, do you need Ron distracted?"
George looked at Ginny, then blinked twice and shook his head, as though he must have misunderstood. "Sorry?"
"When you go on your date. I'll take care of Ron. Harry and I can take him to a pub, give you some time to get ready and head out. In case you haven't noticed, he rather takes over the living room." George was staring at her like he had never seen her in his life. "What, why are you giving me the eye?"
"How did you...? You're all right. You know that?"
She nodded. "I do. What night?"
"Thursday."
"And--"
"Just until I leave. Around nine."
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and someone knocked on the door before pushing it open. "Everything alright back here?" Ron asked, looking from Ginny to George.
"We're fine, Ron." Ginny replied. "How are you?"
"Me? I'm fine. It's just that Hermione's started to get a little worried."
"Well, never fear, I'm done interrogating George." Ginny exited the room and headed back to the living room, leaving Ron looking curiously at George.
"What was she interrogating you for?"
"Get back out there, Ronniekins." he replied, waving Ron back down the hall.
Ginny smiled to herself as she scooped up a few empty plates from the dining table and took them back into the kitchen, where Harry was stacking dirty dishes in the sink. He looked up as she entered.
"Everything good?"
She smiled. "Just fine. You?"
A shadow seemed to cross over his face, but he smiled broadly at her and nodded. "Yeah. This is nice."
"It is."
He took the plates from her and added them to the pile in the sink, then wiped his hands on a dishtowel and turned to her. "Do you feel like coming outside with me for a bit?"
She didn't, not really, when it was so cold out and George's flat was so merry and warm. But there was something in his face, in the way that he asked, that made her nod. "Sure."
"What's this now?" Ron asked as they exited the kitchen and headed for the stairs. He was now sprawled comfortably on the sofa. "What about dessert?"
"In a minute, Ron. Harry and I are going outside for a bit."
"You'll catch your death of cold out there." Hermione said, looking up from where she sat playing Exploding Snap with Percy. George sat at the table with them, scrutinizing his brother's technique.
Once they were sufficiently bundled up in coats and hats and gloves, they descended the stairs and went out into the still night. The air was very cold, and their breath made clouds of fog when they exhaled. Overhead, a half moon shone brightly in the clear sky.
"Should I be worried?" she asked as he pulled the door shut.
"Worried? No, of course not."
"All right then." she said simply, waiting for him to continue.
"The letter from Mrs. Tonks… I feel like I should go and see her. I feel like… like this is my fault, and that I need to make it better somehow."
"You feel like what is your fault?"
"That her husband and her daughter and her son-in-law are dead."
"But that's not true. You couldn't stop the Ministry from hunting Muggle-borns. And Tonks and Lupin knew what could happen, and they chose to fights as members of the Order. It's terrible that they all died, yes, of course it is. But it certainly isn't your fault."
He sighed. "I can't help but feel like it is. And that I need to do something about it. I want to give her Grimmauld Place."
Ginny blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Grimmauld Place. I want Mrs. Tonks to have it. It's not like I'm living there. It's just sitting there, empty. And it did belong to her family, after all."
"That's nice of you, Harry, but… I'm not sure Mrs. Tonks would want to live there. She probably hates it for the same reasons that Sirius did. And she has her own house where she's comfortable, where she raised her family."
"I'll give it to Teddy, then. He can live there when he's older. I want some good to come out of this."
"Somethinggood? Harry, all this is good." She threw her arms out and turned in a circle, indicating not the narrow alleyway in which they stood but all of wizarding Britain with one sweeping motion. "And none of it would be here if you did things differently."
"Wouldn't, it, though?"
"You aren't saying you wish Voldemort wasn't dead." She put her hands on top of her head and stared at him in disbelief.
"No, not at all! But… we could have been better prepared. We just sort of ran into Hogwarts that night… didn't even know what we were looking for…. If I'd taken some more time to plan, maybe--"
"Maybe we'd all be dead. Maybe there would be no hope left. Maybe we'd all be Imperiused and torturing Muggles right now instead of looking forward to eggnog and treacle tart."
"But what about Fred? Don't you wish that he was here?"
"Of course I do, Harry. I miss him every day. But he knew what he was doing when he came into the castle that night. He knew the risk involved, and I'm sure that he's proud to have given his life so that thousands more could be alive tonight, and safe, and happy. The same thing goes for Lupin and Tonks, and Sirius, and your mum and dad, and--"
She had no choice but to break off when he took her chin gently in his gloved hand, tilted it just slightly upwards, and kissed her deeply. His breath was warm on her face, and a pleasant heat moved quickly through her.
"Thank you." he said, pulling back after a minute and straightening his glasses.
"You're welcome."
"I don't know why I feel the way I do. I'm happy, probably happier than I can ever remember. But sometimes I just get overwhelmed. And when I get a letter like Mrs. Tonks', I get--"
"Survivor's guilt?"
"What?"
"I don't know, Hermione said it once."
And he drew her close again, kissing her gently. This time she returned it with enthusiasm.
"So will you come with me tomorrow, to see Mrs. Tonks? I still want to visit." he said a few minutes later.
"Of course."
"Good. We should go back upstairs, then." She nodded, and, hand in hand, they went back inside and up the stairs.
"Finally." Ron said, jumping off the couch. "I've been promised dessert three times now."
"Far be it from me to disappoint." Ginny replied, hanging her coat back up in the closet and bustling into the kitchen, feeling very much like she imagined her mother frequently did.
A few minutes later, the six of them were seated again at the dining table, each with a mug of eggnog and plates laden with sweets.
"I have to say, George, I didn't think you had it in you." Hermione said, licking the back of her spoon before digging it back into the generous helping Christmas pudding that sat before her.
"It's true. You'd think you'd been hanging out with the Hogwarts house-elves." Ginny agreed, breaking off a piece of piecrust with her fingers.
"Crazy little bastards still cranking out top-notch food?" Ron asked, draining his eggnog noisily. He eyed Hermione over the top of the mug, but she was still very absorbed in her pudding and seemed not to have noticed his colourful description of the house-elves. Satisfied, he turned back to Ginny.
"They didn't stop just because you left school, Ron."
"Kreacher still there?"
She nodded, pushing back her plate. "He is. Whenever I see him, he bows at me about four times and asks about Harry."
"Crazy little bastard." Ron said fondly. He snuck a look over at Hermione, who paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth.
"I heard you the first time, Ron." she replied, raising her eyebrow at him.
"Right." he said, turning faintly pink.
George belched loudly. "What's it like with McGonagall as headmistress?" he asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"Not that much different than with Dumbledore. She still teaches Transfiguration, at least for this year. And Hagrid does a great job as Head of Gryffindor House. He's very… enthusiastic." She smiled, thinking of the last Quidditch match, where he had scooped up half a dozen first-years and carried them out onto the pitch on his shoulders after Gryffindor's victory. "You should come up to visit, the lot of you. The next Quidditch match is in February."
"Well, we're going to sitting for our N.E.W.T.s in May, but we can still come up for your next match." Ron said, again looking at Hermione. She nodded.
"You're going to sit for your N.E.W.T.s, Ron?" Percy asked with interest.
"Yeah, we got it cleared with McGonagall over the summer. They let Hermione into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without 'em, and Harry into Auror training, but we still want to take 'em."
"Seems like a waste, if you ask me." George said, stretching. "You've got a great job as it is."
"I know, but-- well, it'd be nice to have something to fall back on, ya know? What if, ten years from now, you decide to relocate to Japan or America or somewhere mental like that?"
"It's true." Hermione said, positively beaming at Ron across the table.
Ginny mentally rolled her eyes, then turned to George. "So you're not going to take them, too?"
"Nope."
"Going to be a shopkeeper for your whole life?"
"An incredibly wealthy shopkeeper, yes."
"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"
"Not in the slightest. Why, what do you want out of life?"
Ginny's mind seemed to skid to a halt. It seemed like, for six long years, she had thought of her future in terms of living free from the threat of Voldemort, or, at the very least, the end of school. Now, here she was, a few months from finishing Hogwarts, an epic battle behind her. "I… I'm not sure."
George raised an eyebrow at her. "You know, I expected you to say something a little more interesting."
"Yeah, well, I expected you to channel Lucius Malfoy and wear a ponytail and a fur stole for today's festivities. Looks like we're both disappointed."
When they were finished with dessert, Percy elected himself Father Christmas, herding everyone else onto the sofa or armchairs and distributing gifts. There was much tearing into wrapping paper and shaking boxes and exclaiming. Ginny found herself with an armload of books from Hermione ("Look, I got you some Muggle classics, too-- Jane Austen, she's great, and some Charles Dickens. And this guy, Tolkien, tries to write about wizards and elves and such. That ought to be a laugh!"), a very soft grass-green sweater and striped scarf from Percy ("The saleswitch told me that green will go nicely with your hair."), tickets to a Holyhead Harpies match from Ron ("Save your stub-- next year we can get a discount on season tickets!"), an enormous box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products from George ("What can I say, I'm not creative when it comes to gift-giving.") and a beautiful gold Celtic knot necklace from Harry.
"Wow, it's gorgeous. Thank you." she said, taking it from the small burgundy box and inspecting it in the light. "Here, put it on me." She turned to Harry, lifting her hair away from her neck so that he could clasp the necklace on her.
"That is pretty." Hermione said, leaning over to study it.
"Hey Ron, what did you get for your girlfriend?" George asked, wrapping the scarf Hermione had knitted for him around his head like a turban. Ron turned scarlet instead of answering, as did Hermione.
"Isee." George waggled his eyebrows salaciously, but Ginny cut him off with a loud clearing of her throat.
"Please. I'll vomit."
"Let me test this thing out." Harry said quickly, opening the packaging of the wizard camera that Ginny had given him. He loaded it with film and pointed it at her. "Smile."
Obligingly, she tossed her hair and model-posed, then smiled as the flash went off. "That'll be a keeper."
"It will. All right, everyone, come on. In front of the tree. I want a photo."
There was a low-level grumbling, especially from Ron and George, but they all lined up in front of the Christmas tree so Harry could take a picture. He fiddled with the focus and peered through the viewfinder. "Can you take that off your head, George?"
"If I must." He yanked the scarf off of his head with a flourish.
"Go on, Harry. I'll take one with you in it." Percy said, after he took the first picture. Harry handed him the camera and slid into the group next to Ginny. They all smiled.
"Christ, that flash is bright." Ron said, rubbing his eyes, as the group broke apart. "Say, Hermione, how about I walk you home?"
"All right." she replied, smiling at him.
"Yes, I'm going to get home as well." Percy said. "Penny's coming by early tomorrow to get the rest of her things."
"Oh, you're going to help her?" Ginny asked.
"No, I want to be gone before she even gets to the neighbourhood."
"That's the spirit, Perce!" George clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Don't let the filthy slag run the show!"
"George!" Hermione sounded scandalized. "I hardly think Penelope Clearwater fits the definition of aa slag."
"You and I apparently have different definitions of the word, then."
"Actually, Hermione, George did use the term correctly." Percy said, shrugging into his coat. "And she has developed rather loose morals since Hogwarts." He turned to his brother. "George, it was a lovely time. Thank you for the jokes, I think the trick wands will be most entertaining at the office."
"Don't go too wild. Thanks for the book."
"My pleasure. Happy Christmas." He hugged George awkwardly.
"Happy Christmas."
In the flurry of goodbyes, Harry turned to Ginny. "I'm going to go home as well. Will you still come with me tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"I'll be by around noon, then? And we'll Apparate over?"
"Sure."
"I-- I had a great time today. Thank you for inviting me."
She made a face. "Haven't we spent Christmas together almost every year since I was eleven?"
"Something like that. I hope we get to spend more together." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Merry Christmas. Thank you for everything."
"Thankyou. Happy Christmas."
Once she had said good-bye to everyone, Ginny busied herself with cleaning up the gift debris and the load of pots, pans and dishes. As she used her wand to scour the roasting pan, she replayed the dessert conversation over in her head. "Why, what do you want out of life?" George had said. The words made her stomach do somersaults, for reasons she couldn't explain. Was it because she didn't know? Because she thought she should know? She knew what she didn't want, and that was to do nothing. And she was pretty sure she didn't want to work at the Ministry, or at a shop. Beyond that--
She was startled out of her thoughts by George emptying the rubbish bin. "So, d'you think they're going to test out Ron's mystery Christmas gift? I bet it's lingerie. Edible lingerie."
She dried the pan and set it on the counter, then set to work on scouring the stuffing bowl. "You're just jealous."
"Nah. Hermione isn't really my type."
"I didn't mean because it's Hermione. I mean because Ron is getting some action, and you aren't."
"Oh, so you do think they're testing it out. What do you reckon it is, then? Something you can wear, or something you can use?"
"You're sick. You know that, right?"
"Not sick. Just clever." She shot him a doubtful look, and he laughed. "Come on, leave that for tomorrow."
"I'm not going to be here tomorrow. Harry and I are going out."
"So? It's Christmas still. Forget the dishes. Come on, sit in the living room with me for awhile."
So she did.
Author's Note: I've always been under the impression that Ginny is close to most of her brothers (the only exceptions being Charlie and Percy), but shares (shared?) a special relationship with the twins (and not in an "ew" way either). They have similar personality traits, but, more so, I think it's because she doesn't feel overshadowed by them the way Ron does. She can get away with saying and doing things to George that he won't allow from other members of his family. Ya know.
Thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter, Hyperlily and QtipKiwis. Also thanks to those who sent me some messages about beta-ing the rest of this story. I have a bit of chapter-story anxiety, LOL. If anyone has any constructive criticism/suggestions/etc and you're not into reviews, please send me a message. I'm always curious as to how I'm doing.
Working on another one-shot, not sad like Fred's Funeral, but I can't decide if I want to write about the night the Order gets word that they need to go to the Ministry (at the end of OotP) or how everyone finds out they need to get to Hogwarts for the final showdown (as takes place during DH, obviously). Maybe both. I don't know. This site has far surpassed Wikipedia and Myspace as my latest Internet addiction.
