Sorry it's taken me a bit of time to put this up, too. Hopefully once this month is over I'll be able to update more frequently. Just a few notes here: I did keep it that Fred passed away. (I know, don't hurt me, he's one of my favs, too). There's a couple lines of French again - it doesn't really change the story at all if you can't understand it. Please Review and, most importantly, ENJOY!

Any party or dinner at the Burrow is always a bustling scene. Ginny's birthday dinner was no different. The dining room was neatly decorated with birthday banners of red and silver lettering. Arthur Weasley sat comfortably in a chair at the head of the table, admiring the streamers and paper chains he had created. Quite the opposite, Mrs. Weasley was flustered, hurrying around the kitchen and fussing over a plump, crisp turkey. Fleur and Bill were trying their best to help her, but kept getting shooed out of the kitchen by Mrs. Weasley.

"Don't be offended, love. My mum's always been that way. Wait till she yells at Ron and won't let him even five feet near the kitchen door," Bill comforted his wife.

"Zat will be a sight to see!" Fleur giggled, her accent becoming more assimilated to British dialect.

"Well, look who it is!" Bill walked over to Hermione and Draco, hand in hand with Fleur, a great big grin on his face.

Hermione smiled avidly and opened her arms for embracing, "How are you, Bill?"

Bill took Hermione into a bear hug, rustling her hair a bit. The two giggled and smiled, then broke apart. Bill stepped forward towards Draco and extended his right hand.

"How are you, Draco?" he greeted.

Draco clasped his hand firmly and returned the salutation, "Not bad, Bill. How are you?"

"I'm quite good. You remember Fleur, don't you?" Bill stepped aside and presented his beautiful wife.

"Mais oui. Je connais votre femme. Comment-allez vous?" Draco utilized the bit of French he knew.

Fleur was clearly shocked to hear him speak French and smiled brightly, "Je vais bien, Draco, et vous? Je ne vous ai pas entendu quelque temps."

Bill turned to Hermione as the two bickered on in French, "Do you understand a thing they're saying?"

"A little, but barely anything." Hermione answered.

"I have tried to teach Bill French for ages. He zimply cannot grasp it," Fleur explained, her conversation with Draco finished.

Draco and Hermione chuckled as Fleur gave a menacing look at Bill, and then broke into a smile. She gave him a light punch in the arm to prove her point; Bill milked every moment of it. The laughter of the group was soon interrupted by the shouting of Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen.

"I said GET OUT! YOU WILL NOT TASTE ANY OF THIS FOOD BEFORE YOUR SISTER GETS HERE! OUT!" her voice was as clear as day.

A pathetic looking Ron slumped out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He quickly eyed who was there; a look of disgust hung on his face when he looked at Draco. It was obvious to everyone in the room that Ron was staring at Hermione's body in her stunning dress.

"Hello, Ronald," Hermione cleared her throat, not overjoyed with this attention.

"Hello, Hermione," Ron returned the greeting, finally breaking his stare.

"Is something the matter?" Hermione asked coldly.

"No, not one bit," Ron muttered and sauntered off into a different section of the room.

"He's been moody ever since . . . well, you know," Bill refrained from recalling bad memories for Hermione.

"I know, and he has every reason to be. He should be forced to dwell on what he did," Hermione promptly spoke.

Bill, unable to produce something viable to say, remained quiet. Luckily, the atmosphere took a pleasant turn as Harry arrived, a blind-folded Ginny in hand. Harry was beaming, gesturing for everyone to remain silent.

"Harry, I'm not going to ask you again, where—"

Harry gave the signal.

"SURPRISE!" everyone shouted at once.

Harry lifted the blindfold off of Ginny, revealing a shocked, but happy expression on her face. Mrs. Weasley bustled over and gave her only daughter a big hug and a peck on the cheek. One by one, all the guests in the dining room gave Ginny birthday wishes and greetings.

"You guys didn't have to do this, you know," Ginny said, a bit embarrassed.

Suddenly, a crack sounded in the room.

"You know with our mother that wouldn't have been possible," George quipped.

"Oh, hush, you!" Mrs. Weasley scolded him and batted at him with her right hand.

George, who had been seldom seen at family gatherings, was greeted with as much enthusiasm as Ginny was.

"I don't mean to be stealing all your attention, Gin," George snickered, giving his sister one of his daring smiles.

"Well, what do you all say to starting dinner?" Mrs. Weasley clasped her hands together.

A round of shouts and cheers emerged. Everyone took their seats at the dinner table. Draco, Hermione, George, and Ron sat on the right side of the table while Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, and Harry sat on the left side. Mr. Weasley and Ginny resided at the heads of the table, respectively. Anticipation and hunger rose as Mrs. Weasley lifted her wand. A fully garnished, golden turkey emerged from the doorway of the kitchen, followed by stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, dinner rolls, and black pudding.

"You went all out, mum," George declared with a look of hungry in his eyes.

"What did you expect? It's your sister's birthday. Of course I'm going to go 'all out'," Mrs. Weasley scoffed.

The main course settled itself neatly in the designated places on the table. Ginny was given her choice of meat first; Mrs. Weasley kept her eye on her excited sons. After what seemed like hours to Ron and George, but was only a couple of minutes, Mrs. Weasley raised his hands, signaling everyone to dig in. Ron and George were the first two to take helpings, and eager look on both of their faces.

"Oh, mum, how I've missed your cooking!" George exclaimed after he had taken his first bite.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly, "You look like you need a good meal. Have you been eating lately? Who's doing your cooking? Are you doing it?"

"Yes, mother, I've been eating. I have enough money to buy my own food, thanks. Sometimes I cook, but that doesn't always end up well," George answered truthfully.

"Probably like your and Fred's cookies to dad on father's day, "Bill joked.

A fond, yet distanced smile appeared on George's face, "Those were the days."

The conversation throughout dinner was rather enjoyable, particularly for Draco. He was avidly included in it by most of the members of the Weasley family and extended family. After finishing a talk about seem splitting syrup with Harry, Draco turned to Hermione. He waited patiently for her to finish her exchange with Bill.

"You know, I actually feel welcome here," Draco whispered to her, not really wanting anyone else to catch wind of this conversation.

Hermione beamed, "That's really good, Draco. You know you are welcome here; The Weasley's are glad you came."

"Yeah, it feels nice, "Draco returned the smile.

At that moment, Mr. Weasley stood up, tapping a fork to his wine glass.

"Here, here, everyone! I'd like to make a toast to my lovely daughter. May you have a long and plentiful life, full of all the things you could wish for! To Ginny!" his voice rang clear.

"To Ginny!" everyone drank to her.

Ginny blushed a deep scarlet from the amount of attention, but openly smiled at all of them.

"Thank you so much for coming. It wouldn't have been complete without you guys," Ginny admitted.

"And it wouldn't be complete without some pudding and presents!" Mrs. Weasley announced.

The plump little woman got up and shuffled everyone into the living room. A nice pile of gifts were stacked on the floor near a chair with a birthday sign on it. Everybody settled themselves in a chair or loveseat somewhere, excited to see what Ginny was going to unwrap.

"Oh no!" Draco whispered to himself.

Hermione turned to him, a bit startled, and asked, "What is it?"

"I didn't get her a gift!" he exclaimed.

"Don't worry! I've got it all covered," Hermione reassured Draco.

The first gift Ginny open contained a brand new stationary set. George let out a roar of laughter at the sight of it.

"That's gotta be from mum!" he chortled.

"Indeed, it is. Since you're . . . nearing and age where you might want to . . . find a place of your own with Harry, I figured you'd need something to send me letters with. Oh, and with that paper, no one will be able to open the letters but me, so you can tell me all about what you and Harry are up to—"

"MUM!" Ginny groaned in embarrassment. It was no secret in the Weasley household that Harry and Ginny had been exploring new levels in their relationship.

"All's well, dear. You know I'd love to hear from you either way," Mrs. Weasley held back tears.

"Thanks, mum. It does mean a lot," Ginny gave her mum a tender hug.

"All right, which one would you like to open next?" Mrs. Weasley gestured towards the majority of gifts still settled on the floor.

"When are we having the pudding?" Ron interjected.

"Oh, shut it, you! We'll have the pudding after Ginny is done with her gifts!" Mrs. Weasley reproved, shaking her finger in Ron's face.

Ron slouched back onto the couch next to George, a sour expression instilled on his face.

"Mum, it's okay. You can bring out the pudding now. I don't mind everyone not looking at me while I open these gifts," Ginny tried to lessen the tension in the room.

"Thank you, Ginny!" Ron muttered and moseyed off to find the chocolate delight pudding.

"Here, dear, why don't you open this one? It's from Hermione and Draco," Mrs. Weasley suggested, a gift wrapped in silver paper in hand.

Draco glanced over at Hermione, eyebrows raised.

"You'll see," she mouthed to him.

Ginny carefully unwrapped the silver morsel, not wanting to damage what was inside.

"Oh my gosh . . . it's gorgeous," she whispered in amazement.

A silver and ruby locket lay inside, glistening with the firelight. Inscribed on the front was Ginny's full name. Ginny vigilantly opened it; inside was a reel of pictures.

"They're photos of all of us, you and Harry, Hogwarts – it's all in there," Hermione explained.

Ginny couldn't help but to tear up a little. She walked over to Hermione to embrace her.

"Thank you so much," she whispered in Hermione's ear.

Ginny then turned to Draco and hugged him, as well.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear, a tear now falling from her right eye.

"Come on, Ginny dear, let's put that necklace on you," Mrs. Weasley beckoned her over.

Mrs. Weasley helped fasten the locket around Ginny's neck.

"Oh, doesn't that look beautiful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, her hands clasped together in joy.

After another ten minutes of gift open and witty remarks from George, everyone was enjoying a nice spot of pudding. Conversations were happening all over the place. Hermione was deeply emerged in a conversation with Ginny about her and Harry's relationship; the two were giggling incessantly. Draco, who had just finished speaking to Bill, was looking at some of the photos hanging on the walls. Besides pictures of the Weasleys, there was also a good amount of pictures of Harry and Hermione. Draco couldn't help but smile at a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione at thirteen years of age, posing for a photo on platform nine and three quarters. Adjacent to that was a photo of the trio the following year, all dressed up for the Yule Ball. She looked so beautiful that day, Draco recalled fondly. Unexpectedly, Draco continued on to the next photo and found it to be of him. He was fifteen years old in it, giving one of the last smiles he did for a few years. Draco was taken aback by this; he understood that the Weasleys knew the truth about him now, but was puzzled as to why they'd still keep a photo of him, after all he'd done.

"Don't know why mum and dad insist on having that up. It's wrong," a voice suddenly spat.

Draco whipped around – it was Ron.

"I'm sorry they keep it up there then," Draco frowned.

"You don't belong here, you know? You're never going to be one of us. You're a rotten git, Malfoy," Ron grumbled, his fists clenching.

"You can think what you want of me, "Draco calmly replied.

"I'll think the truth, you bloody bastard—"

Ron threw a punch at Draco. Chaos instantly ensued. Within the second that Ron had thrown the punch, he had stormed out. Mrs. Weasley screamed in anger, completely startled.

"RONALD WEASLEY YOU LITTLE—"she immediately chased after him.

Draco, who was utterly stunned at what had happened and the speed that it had happened at, finally brought his fingers to his nose; his nose was gushing blood.

"Oh my god! Draco!" Hermione ran over to him.

She swiftly tended to his nose, took her wand out and muttered something under her breath. Draco felt an increase in pain for a few moments, but then felt a bit better.

"It's not broken anymore," she informed him, "Oh, I'm so sorry he did that to you."

"It-it's fine, really. I'm used to it," he tried to make light of the situation.

Mrs. Weasley re-entered the living room, flustered as ever.

"He apparated that little monster!" she cursed.

"Calm down, Molly. Everything will be all right," Arthur Weasley spoke cautiously.

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" she retorted, but did take a seat and worked on her breathing.

Draco took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and sopped up the blood, his nose still bleeding despite it being fixed.

"Oh, Draco dear, I'm sorry that this happened. He's not been himself as of late . . ." Mrs. Weasley started to apologize.

"It's all right. I'm quite okay," Draco produced a small smile from under his handkerchief.

"I just wanted a drama-free gathering for once, "Molly started to sob.

"You know there will always be drama with us, mum. You can count on it!" George quipped with a devilish grin.

"Oh, shut it, Fred! George. Sorry, dear, I'm terribly sorry," Mrs. Weasley broke down into a fit of sobs.

George walked over to his mother and took her hand in his.

"Mum," he spoke softly," it's okay."

Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around her son and sobbed even harder. Bill and Fleur looked at each other, and then at Harry and Ginny.

"Mum? I think it's about time we get going. I've got work tomorrow and Fleur – well – she's got some things to attend to," Bill tried to nicely crack the ice.

"Same here, mum. Harry and I have some stuff we need to get done," Ginny added.

George snickered at that; Ginny poked her tongue out in response, muttering, "Oh, grow up!"

Mrs. Weasley quieted her sobs and wiped away her tears, trying to regain her composure.

"Yes, yes, it's all good. Ginny, don't forget your gifts. Fleur, don't forget to take some of the raw meat that's in the kitchen for Bill." Mrs. Weasley reminded them, using her nagging to refocus her mind.

Ginny nodded and thanked everyone in turn for coming. After collecting their needed items, Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Ginny disapparated. Mrs. Weasley finally let go of George, who also needed to return to his apartment to get a good night's sleep for work the next day. George shook hands with Draco, inviting him to come by the shop one day soon to show him about the Contagious Cold Chocolate he'd mentioned to him earlier. Draco accepted the invitation and watched with everyone else as George disapparated.

"How about some tea?" Mr. Weasley suggested, eying over his wife in concern.

"I'll get the kettle-"

"No, darling, you stay right there," Mr. Weasley ordered, taking his wand out.

A kettle filled with water floated over to the fireplace; four chairs placed themselves in a semi-circle surrounding the fireplace. Each of the four took a seat, respectively. Even for an August evening, the air was particularly chilly; the warmth of the fire was simply delightful.

"I can't wait for winter. I love gathering around this fire during it," Hermione declared in a whimsical tone.

"We will be having a Christmas gathering, as usual, but that's a few months off. You're invited, too, Draco," Mrs. Weasley spoke, mostly recovered from her sobbing.

"Thank you," Draco said, "I can only imagine how gorgeous this place looks during the wintertime, and how amazing your Christmas ham must be."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and made a slight giggle at the compliment. The kettle whistled and Mr. Weasley poured boiling water into four teacups. Each of the cups glided towards one of the four people seated in the room.

"Thanks for the tea," Draco nodded to Mr. Weasley.

"No need to thank, Draco. Usually it's just Molly and I drinking tea by the fireside – not that I don't enjoy it – I just miss having youngins' around, Molly, too." He confessed.

"I'd be delighted to keep you guys company if you ever needed any," Draco informed, sipping his steaming tea carefully.

"Myself, as well. You know I care about you two very much; staying over for an evening wouldn't be a toll on my day," Hermione added tenderly.

"Well, at least you two feel that way. George seems to have an aversion to coming here and Ron -well, Ron's always here, that's a different situation – but Bill and Fleur are usually busy. Ginny, too, though she still lives here. She's often at Harry's apartment. Charlie is currently in Sweden on some work. Our children have left the nest, basically," Mrs. Weasley said, a slightly sullen turn to his mouth.

"I'm surprised. If I had a mum that could cook like you, Mrs. Weasley, I'd be home for every meal," Draco jibed.

Everyone present gave a little chuckle. However, the mood took a bit of a turn again.

"How are your parents, Draco?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

"I haven't spoken to my father in a year; my mother's dead," he quietly replied.

"Oh . . . I'm sorry. We had no clue that had happened," Mr. Weasley nervously addressed his mishap.

"It's all right. I've been fending on my own for quite some time," Draco said.

"We know you've been on your own, dear. It worries us very much," Mrs. Weasley pointed out.

"Ah, there's no need to worry about me. I manage on my own. Luckily now, I have a wonderful partner at work that makes sure I do what I'm supposed to," Draco turned and smiled at Hermione.

Hermione gave a shy smile in reply, blushing slightly. Mrs. Weasley glanced between the two and smiled to herself. I can't wait to see what it'll be like between the two of them at Christmas, Mrs. Weasley thought. I can't wait to be back here this Christmas, Draco smiled to himself. For the first night in a long time, all was well for Draco Malfoy.