"If you stand for nothing, what will you fall for?"

- Lin-Manuel Miranda

"So he was offering to help him?" Ron asked.

"If you ask that question one more time, I'm going to stick this sprout-"

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled her Transfiguration book closer to her. Harry was still convinced that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and it was all that Lydia could do to not snap at him. Before they had arrived at The Burrow, James had pulled Lydia aside and made her promise not to start an argument. She felt as though him only telling her not to start an argument was downright rude, but didn't mention it because she felt as though that would probably start an argument.

Harry and Ron were stood at the kitchen peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs Weasley whilst Lydia tried to finish a particularly horrible essay for Professor McGonagall. They had been talking about what Harry had heard Malfoy and Snape at Slughorn's Christmas Party. He had told them both on the school train what he had heard and Lydia had had to distract herself with homework to not start shouting at him again.

"I'm only checking!" Ron said, casting a wary look at the sprout that Harry was holding.

"He said he'd promised Malfoy's mum to protect him and that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath...'

"An Unbreakable Vow?" Lydia yelped, looking up from her homework, "Are you sure?"

Harry looked around at her in surprise. "Yeah...why?"

"You can't break an Unbreakable Vow," Ron said slowly.

"Funnily enough, I'd worked that out for myself," Harry said through gritted teeth, "What happens if you break it?"

"You die," Lydia said bluntly.

Ron nodded.

"Fred and George tried to get me to make one once when I was five. I nearly did, too, but then Dad found us and he went mental. Fred reckons his left buttock has never been the same since,"

"Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock..."

"I beg your pardon?" Said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen. "Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything,"

"I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months time!" Said Ron, "And then I'll be able to do it by magic!"

"At least you're not like Harry and Lydia and have to wait until the end of July," Fred said.

"Honestly, Fred, we have bigger things to worry about," Harry muttered.

"I'm sure Ron will dazzle us all with unsuspected magical skills," Fred said, clapping his brother on the back.

"And speaking of unsuspected skills, Ronald," said George, dropping into the chair next to Lydia and putting his feet on the table, "I have heard, from an unnamed source, that you and a certain lady of the name of Lavender Brown are quite close,"

Ron turned around and looked at Lydia, "You told him?"

"He said unnamed source!" Lydia protested.

"I'm not saying that this source doesn't have messy black hair and green eyes, but I'm also not saying that they don't," George shrugged.

Ron looked between Harry and Lydia, both of whom were trying to look as innocent as possible. Lydia smiled at him and turned back to her homework whilst Harry became interested in the sprouts again.

"Mind your business," Ron snapped.

"What a snappy retort," said Fred, "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was...how did it happen?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Did she have an accident or something?"

"What?"

"Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!"

Mrs Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw a knife at Fred. He turned it into a paper aeroplane with one lazy flick of his wand. George sniggered as a furious Mrs Weasley rounded on him.

"Ron! Don't ever let me see you throwing knives again!" She said. Then she turned to Lydia, "Oh, Lydia, dear, Fabio is currently rolling around in the living room - will he be OK?"

"Oh, yes, he'll be fine, Mrs Weasley. He's a bit weird like that," Lydia shrugged.

"Fred, George, I'm sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill we have to squeeze in with you two," said Mrs Weasley, "And James can stay with him,"

"No problem," said George.

"Charlie won't be home so Harry and Ron are in the attic, and Fleur can stay with Ginny," Mrs Weasley said, "Everyone should be comfortable," she looked around the kitchen, looking harassed, "And Lydia you can stay in Percy's old room,"

"Percy not showing his ugly face, then?" Fred asked.

Mrs Weasley turned away. "No, he's busy, I expect,"

"Yeah, being the world's biggest prat," Fred muttered as Mrs Weasley left the room. He stretched and good up, "Well, I'm off. There's a very pretty girl who works in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvellous...almost like real magic..." He winked at them and left the kitchen.

"Oi, George, can you help us with these sprouts?"

"No," George said, "It's character building. Also," he added, throwing the paper aeroplane at him, "I wouldn't chuck knives at people who you want to help you - Lyds, you spelt 'additionally' wrong, it doesn't have four 'd's' in it,"

"Are you sure?" Lydia asked.

"I think you're cracking under pressure," George said.

"No such thing," Lydia said briskly, "That's just what people say when they don't want to do work...how are we spelling the world 'and'? Is it two N's or one? Both look right to me,"

In the end, George had to force her parchment out of her hands and managed to convince her to not do anymore homework until after Christmas. Once she stopped stressing out over homework, she actually managed to enjoy herself. Ginny had decorated the living room so lavishly that it almost hurt to look out because of how bright the decorations actually were. Fred and George had confided in Lydia, Harry, Ron and James that the Angel on top of the tree wasn't actually an angel, but a gnome that had been stupefied, painted gold and stuffed into a miniature tutu.

"It's honestly quite ugly," Lydia said, looking up at it as it glowered down on them.

"It's his own fault for biting me on the ankle," Fred muttered darkly, "It bloody hurt,"

Lydia yawned and sank back into her seat. Fabio was dozing on George's lap whilst he played chess with Ron. Ginny and Fred were playing Exploding Snap whilst James looked on, occasionally he purposely messed them up just for the satisfaction of seeing something explode. Harry was sat in deep conversation with Mr Weasley and Lupin who was looking thinner than ever. From what James had said, he had been given the task of going underground and trying to get the other Werewolves onto their side by Dumbledore and it wasn't going on.

"I'm going to get a drink - do you want anything?" Lydia asked George.

George shook his head. "Nah, I'm alright,"

As she neared the kitchen, she could hear the sound of sniffling. She paused outside the kitchen door, not wanting to interrupt but then her curiosity got the better of her. Slowly, she pushed the door open and peered inside. Harry was sat on the kitchen table, wiping his eyes furiously as tears poured out of them.

"H! What's wrong?" Lydia asked, rushing into the kitchen.

"What do you care?" He snapped.

Lydia took a step back. "Right. Sorry. I'll just-"

"No! Wait. I'm sorry there's just...a lot," He sighed.

She hesitantly walked over to him and sat next to him.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't want to ruin Christmas,"

"You won't ruin Christmas,"

"I might,"

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"Don't be a prat,"

He let out a shaky breath and jumped down from the table, pacing up and down the kitchen. Lydia watched him pace and realised how hypocritical she was being - she hadn't told Harry anything about what was happening in her life and now she was expecting him to tell her something that was obviously deeply personal. She waited until he was ready.

"I don't want - I mean - Cho was - didn't work out - but still - girls are - blokes are - confused - I mean - I was confused - not now - don't - but -" He stumbled over his words and he looked quite frantic.

"H, chill," said Lydia, "Take your time,"

He stopped pacing and leant against the sink. For a moment, she thought he was going to be sick but then he turned around to face her.

"You're my sister," he said, "you're always going to be there for me, right?"

"What? Bloody hell, Harry, obviously I am!" She said, frowning. "You're starting to worry me. What's wrong?"

"I'm bisexual," he basically whispered it, "And if you hate me, that's fine. I know it's weird and-" he was cut off as Lydia hugged him. He froze for a moment before he hugged her back and they were both sobbing.

"I'm sorry," Lydia said, "I'm sorry I've been such a prat since June. I'm sorry I've ignored you no not spoken to you and said horrible things to you and-"

"Lyds," He whispered, "it doesn't matter. We've both been stupid. We've both said things we shouldn't have,"

"I will support you through everything and anything," Lydia promised him, "Through every relationship. Regardless of who it is with," Harry burst into tears again and hugged her again. The door opened and George walked in.

"Babe, have you - oh," he stood still for a moment, "do you want me to-"

"No, no it's fine." Harry said, wiping his eyes. "We just needed to talk,"

"Understatement of the century," George muttered, "So, are we all friends again?"

Harry nodded. "Will you get my dad?"

George smiled at Lydia and left the room when James came in. He stood and stared at his children for a moment as though he couldn't work out if the fact that they were both sobbing was a good thing or not.

"What's happened?" He asked.

"I need to tell you something," Harry said, he straightened his back and cleared his throat. "I'm bisexual," when he said it this time, he was a lot more confident.

James nodded, "I know, kid,"

"I - what?"

"I'm your dad. I know these things," when he saw the look on Harry's face, he pretended to look shocked. "I mean...oh my Merlin! I had no idea! None whatsoever! You have been so subtle about the whole thing!"

"I don't want anyone else to know yet, though," he added seriously, "I don't know how everyone will react.." He trailed off and looked worried again.

Lydia rested her head on his shoulder. "Take things as slowly as you won't. We won't rush you,"

—-

Lydia's bedroom door creaked open and she rolled over, expecting to find Ginny trying to find solace from Fleur, but it was George. He put a finger to his lips and slowly closed the door behind him, creeping over to the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting in bed," He whispered, "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Trying to get us killed by either your mum or my dad,"

"There's so many redheads in the house, mum won't notice if I'm in my room or not," George said. When he saw the look on her face, he pulled the quilt up to his chin. "Look at how comfy I am,"

She rolled her eyes and lay back in bed, turning to face him. He grinned at her.

"Are you and Harry OK now?" He asked

Lydia nodded. "Finally."

"I'm glad," he said, "it means I can stop worrying about you,"

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm always fine," she paused for a moment, "well, I'm fine like twenty percent of the time and that's more than enough,"

"That's not how it works,"

Amazingly, Lydia and George were never found out. When Mrs Weasley came to wake her up that morning, George was clever - and sneaky - enough to have pretended to have woke her up first and even opened the bedroom door so that poor Mrs Weasley didn't have to worry about teenage pregnancy. Ginny came in moments later, ranting and raging about Fleur, followed by a laughing Harry and Fred and a rather put out Ron who was holding something in his hands.

"What the hell is that?" Lydia asked, pointing at what he was holding.

"It's off Lavender...she can't...she can't expect me to wear it, can she?"

It was a golden chain with the words, 'my sweetheart,' attached to it in big bold letters. Tears streamed down Harry and Fred's faces as they fell to the ground, still laughing. Ginny gave Ron what might have been a sympathetic look if it weren't for the fact that tears of laughter were rolling down her own face.

"Wait till Hermione see's that," George muttered to Lydia.

"If he'd have just gone to that Christmas party together, he wouldn't be in this mess,"

"Wouldn't be nearly as amusing though, would it?"

Christmas dinner was cheerful. Mrs Weasley, as always, cooked a feast to rival that of the Hogwarts Christmas food. Lydia cheerfully ate her way through the mountain of food that was put before her and listened into the conversations that took place around her. Remus and Bill were discussing Goblin rights whilst Fred and George were in fits of laughter over a story that James was telling ("-and then, Moony goes, "oh no, I read the spell wrong," and then Sirius came running back over to us but he wasn't Sirius because he'd transfigured himself into a Hippogriff and not Snape!"). Mrs Weasley was talking to Harry about his NEWTs ("honestly, dear, if you just buckle down you'll be absolutely fine,") and Ginny was teasing Ron about his necklace ("I think you should wear it first day back to school. There's no way people will bully you about it!").

"Arthur!" Mrs Weasley said suddenly, "Arthur! It's Percy!"

Mr Weasley looked round. Everybody very quickly turned to look out the window. Mrs Weasley was right - Percy Weasley was walking across the snowy yard. Even stranger, he was not alone for the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour,

was walking next to him.

"Arthur! He's with the Minister!" Though no one needed telling.

There was a painful silence as the back door opened and Percy stood in the doorway. No one looked at each other. Them, rather stiffly, Percy said, "Merry Christmas, Mother," Mrs Weasley burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Apologies for the intrusion," Rufus Scrimgeour said, pausing in the doorway, "But Percy and I were in the vicinity and he was quite insistent that we dropped in on you all,"

Lydia glanced at Percy and couldn't help but think that this couldn't be further from the truth. He was stood very straight, as though he wasn't in his own home, and there was a muscle twitching in his jaw. Mrs Weasley beamed at him but Fred, George and Mr Weasley maintained a stony face as they looked at him.

"We won't be here long, Molly," Scrimgeour said, "I'll have a stroll around the yard whilst ou catch up...well, if anyone would like to show me round your charming garden...ah, what about these two, here? They seemed to have finished," He pointed at Lydia and Harry who glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. No one bought this for Lydia still had some food left on her plate and George, Ginny and Ron had also finished their plates of food.

"Sit down," Lydia hissed at George who had half risen out of his seat.

"It's fine," Harry said to Lupin and James who had also stood up. "Fine," he added to Mr Weasley who had moved towards the door.

Neither of them were fooled. There was no way that Percy had actually wanted to come and see his family. Scrimgeour was just using him as a cover so that he could speak to Lydia and Harry alone. They walked across the yard towards the Weasley's garden. Lydia looked at the floor and tried not to focus on how cold she was.

"I've been wanting to talk to you both for a very long time," Scrimgeour said after a while, "Did you know that?"

"No," said Harry.

"Dumbledore has been very protective of the two of you. Natural, of course, after what you've been through...especially at the Ministry,"

Harry didn't say anything and neither did Lydia, so he carried on. "I have been hoping for an occasion to speak you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has prevented this,"

Still, neither of them said anything.

"The rumours have flown around!" Scrimgeour said, "Well, of course, we both know how these stories get distorted...all these whispers of a prophecy...of you being the "Chosen Ones"..."

Lydia pulled the sleeves of her jumper over her hands. They were getting close to what Scrimgeour had really wanted to say to them.

"...I assume you have discussed with Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, we've discussed it," Harry said. Lydia didn't say anything.

"Have you, have you..." Scrimgeour said, "And what has Dumbledore told you?"

"Sorry, but that's between us,"

Scrimgeour turned to Lydia, "Have you discussed anything with Dumbledore?"

"We once discussed whether or not a vanishing spell would work on Lord Voldemort," Lydia said lightly.

Scrimgeour frowned at her.

"Of course, it is a question of confidence...but, does it really matter whether you are the Chosen Ones or not?"

"I don't really know what you mean, Minister," Harry said.

"Well, of course, you two it will matter enormously. But to the wizarding community at large, it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important,"

Lydia didn't say anything and instead became very distracted by two gnomes that were having a fight.

"People do believe that you are the Chosen Ones. They think you both heroes - and there's no denying that you are, of course. How many time have you faced He Who Must Not Be Named and survived? It's a good morale booster, you see. And I can't help but feel that, once you realise this, you might want to publicly stand alongside the Ministry,"

"So basically, you'd like to give the impression that we're working for the Ministry?" Lydia asked.

"It would give everyone a lift to see that you were more involved,"

"I think we've been involved more than enough, actually," Lydia said coldly.

"It would give everyone a lift," Scrimgeour persisted.

"But if we keep on running in and out of the Ministry, it will look like we agree with what you're doing," Harry said.

"Well, that is what we would like-"

"But we don't agree with what you're doing," Lydia interrupted.

"You're only sixteen, I wouldn't expect you to understand-"

"Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen and doesn't agree with anything you're doing," Harry said, "Like locking up Stan Shunpike, for example,"

"I see," Scrimgeour said, all warmth disappearing for his voice, "So, like your hero Dumbledore, you would like to distance yourself from the Ministry?"

"Can you blame us?" Harry asked scathingly, "After everything that happened last year?"

Lydia held her fist up to him, the words 'I must not tell lies,' shined white in the sun. Scrimgeour fixed her a cold, hard stare.

"Where were you last year when then Ministry were going out of there way to discredit us? Where were you when Dolores Umbridge forced us to carve these words into our own flesh? What were you doing, Minister?" Lydia asked.

"Some would say it is your duty to stand by the Ministry," Scrimgeour said.

"Our duty to be used?" Harry said, "That's what you'd love, isn't it? Just to have the Chosen Ones working for you! You don't really care about anything else!"

"What is Dumbledore up to, when he's absent from Hogwarts?" Scrimgeour asked suddenly.

"No idea," Harry said, "But I wouldn't try and find out. Fudge tried to interfere at Hogwarts and you'll notice that Fudge isn't Minister anymore, but Dumbledore is still Headmaster. I'd leave him alone, if I were you,"

There was a long pause.

"Well, it is clear that he has done a good job on you. You're Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?"

"Yeah, I am," Harry said, "Glad we straightened that out,"

"What about you?" Scrimgeour asked Lydia.

"I stand by my brother, Minister, through anything."

And turning their backs on the Minister for Magic, they strode back to the house.