The Worst Christmas

Christmas with Harry and her children was a vision Ginny didn't even know she had until it was so abruptly taken away. She found herself scrambling to arrange presents, writing orders to shops on Diagon Alley and going out into Duwick to get a few extras, all the while fighting a desire to go into her room and sleep through the entire holiday.

"It's bizarre to see you with brown hair," Charlie said when she came back from one such outing.

Taking out her wand and looking in the mirror, Ginny tapped her hair, nose, and lips, returning her normal appearance. "I certainly don't feel like myself without the Weasley mane," she admitted.

"You got an owl from Beth while you were out," Charlie said, handing over a letter.

That was another issue with the postponement of the rescue mission. Ginny knew Ron was still feeding Updike a line of her traveling for work, yet she hadn't published in over five months. With the start of the season coming up, she'd written to Beth about any possible quick write-ups she could manage to get her name in print again. This letter was thicker than the last couple. "Thanks," she said, opening the seal. She scanned through the letter and shuffled through the accompanying papers—information so she could write a profile for a new Puddlemere United player. "I'll get on this at lunch."

"Also, I wanted to talk to you. We have three nesting Opaleye dragons in the clan that could be hatching anytime in the next week or so. I thought it might be a good opportunity to take James for a few days to see them, since Care of Magical Creatures is one class he's lacking practical experience this year," he said.

"That sounds great," Ginny said.

"Before you say yes, you should know the only time I could really take him out would be over Christmas."

Ginny felt a pang in her chest, but swallowed it down. "Well, that's fine."

"You could come with too," Charlie suggested.

"No," Ginny said. "I don't think it would be good for all three of us to leave for more than a day when Grant and Colt need training. Besides, I think it would be fun for James to do that on his own with you."

"There's also Peter to consider," Charlie added.

"It's no different than when you have to be at work," Ginny replied. "I can take care of myself. Besides, he's rarely here. You definitely should take James to see the dragons. Just… watch that he doesn't get too close."

Ginny stowed her load of shopping and the assignment from Beth away before going out back where the others zoomed low on their brooms. Even with the two yards, there wasn't the same space they had at home or the Burrow to soar around freely. This was in part to remain inconspicuous, though they had also decided it would be advantageous to ride close to the ground into the compound. The disillusionment charm they needed to conceal themselves was more effective against the landscape during the day, at the very least.

"Balance yourself out a little more, Trenton," James instructed. "Use your foot holds to ground yourself. Like this," he added, showing him the proper seat.

Overall, everyone had a decent handle on flying, though the techniques James taught them would get everyone from the field to the compound much faster. More than his potions tutelage and impromptu lectures, James seemed to truly love being on a broom and showing others what came second nature to him.

Ginny jumped backward as Imogen darted past, nearly crashing into her. "Sorry Ginny!" she called as she gripped tighter. "I'm trying to stop!" The broom wasn't compliant.

"Sit up instead of leaning forward," Ginny shouted after her.

Imogen did so, closing her eyes tightly as the broom came to a halt.

"There you go," Ginny added.

Taylor and Miles were both so adept that they were racing one another, taking laps back and forth across the length of the two properties, bashing broom-against-broom in an attempt to unseat one another. It wasn't the first time in the last few months that Ginny was struck with the thought of what these people might have been if Godfrey hadn't changed the course of their lives. Would Taylor have been a Quodpot player? Would Miles have been captain of a Quidditch team in school? Perhaps Dakota would have become a healer. She certainly had an interest to those spells when she borrowed James's books. Perhaps there were other paths—areas of magic they had not been exposed to—that would show their greatest abilities. They were all still young enough to catch up within a few years, but what had been stolen was still immeasurable.

Ginny went back inside, grabbing fresh parchment and the assignment from Beth. Writing felt strangely normal. She had started on an outline for the profile when James came inside. "Lunch is in a few," he said.

"I'll grab something in here, thanks." When she wrote, Ginny often skipped meals, not wanting to break the concentration and flow of information. "Your Uncle Charlie is going to take you to the dragon sanctuary for a few days around Christmas, by the way."

"No way!" James exclaimed, coming to sit by her. "Professor Hagrid will be so jealous! Can Imogen come too?"

"I think it's just you," she said. He let out a groan. "It's a real opportunity to go, and I'm sure he will be happy to take her another time, but it's not a tourist location and you're enough of a handful. Besides, you know the others are at more risk leaving here than you."

"Okay," he conceded. "Will we be back for Christmas dinner at least?"

"That's up to Charlie, but it did sound like he anticipated a few days there."

"Well, I just… wanted to be here to give Imogen her present."

"Did you already pick something out?"

"No. Well, sort of. I was thinking of getting her a ring."

Ginny stopped, her quill going off the edge of the page as she looked at James. "That's a little—"

"Not like an engagement ring," he jumped in quickly. "Like… a promise ring… or something."

Ginny pressed her lips together, set down the quill and leaned forward. "And what is it you're promising?"

James flushed red, squirming in his chair. "I don't know, I just know that girls like jewelry, right? That's what a boyfriend is supposed to get... this was stupid, I shouldn't have told you—"

"James, James, wait," she put a hand on his arm as he tried to stand. "Yes, sometimes girls like jewelry, but you know that Fritz is already looking for reasons to be upset about the two of you seeing each other, and he might literally strangle you before you could even explain your intent. Has Imogen even hinted she wants jewelry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, some girls love jewelry, but when you get someone a gift you should really think about them and what they like and want. Like you do for Al and Lily."

"But they're easy. I just need to send Al a new chess set and I already wrote to Uncle George about getting Lily a skiving snackbox," James slumped back.

"Okay, so let's think of something that Imogen might like to have. Something personal. Something that's not a ring."

James nodded. They talked, brainstorming back and forth for the better part of an hour so that by the end Ginny and James both thought they had come up with something that would be useful, but that Imogen would like. "Also, don't get your sister a skiving snackbox."

James rolled his eyes as he left.

The next week flew by in flying lessons and Charlie preparing James for their outing. Charlie wanted to leave early on Christmas Eve to relieve one of his co-workers. James went to Mrs. Gertrude's early, pulling Imogen back to their cottage at the break of dawn. "But I don't have anything for you," she said as James dragged her through the back door and into the kitchen.

"That's okay," he said. "I don't need anything but you." Charlie looked at Ginny with a raised eyebrow and she just shook her head.

The four of them sat around the small Christmas Tree Charlie bought a few days before, James handing Ginny and Imogen packages—Imogen's large and heavy, Ginny's small enough to fit in her hand. Ginny was sending James's gifts with Charlie for tomorrow and was surprised that he had something for her today.

She let Imogen go first. Opening the box, her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. "My own cauldron?" she exclaimed.

"There's more," James said, looking over to Ginny as Imogen dug through the box. "The book and ingredients are from my mum."

Imogen was dumbstruck as she pulled out the first level potions book, a set of scales, and the basic set of ingredients.

"This is amazing," she said. "Now we can both make potions at the same time!"

"Your turn, Mum," James said.

Imogen opened her book, flipping through as Ginny unwrapped the small box. Inside sat an oval golden locket with a vial filled with a silvery substance hanging from the chain. "I know you already have a locket, but I had Uncle Charlie help me fill this one with our pictures," James explained. Ginny opened the locket where James, Lily, Albus, and Harry flashed in projected images, each smiling up at her before it shifted to another. "And Aunt Hermione helped me with the other bit. There's something she did to copy her memory of yours and dad's wedding. For your pensieve."

Ginny clutched a hand to her heart. "Thank you, James." She removed her old locket, taking off Harry's ring and putting it on the new chain. She turned to let James help her with the clasp.

Charlie and Ginny waited on the porch after they grabbed James's bag, watching as he and Imogen said goodbye on the lawn. "You'd think he was going off to war."

The two stood not far off, wrapped in each other, kissing and whispering. Imogen was tearing up. "In a sense they're already in a war, Charlie," she reminded him.

After another few minutes Charlie whistled. "Time to get going, James," he said, grabbing both his and James's bags, stepping down the porch steps. He leaned over and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek. "We'll catch the bus on the street."

Ginny walked down to stand by Imogen, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as Charlie and James went out the side gate. James turned at the last moment, giving a final grin to Imogen. "Come on," Ginny said, squeezing Imogen's shoulder. "Let's get some breakfast."

Imogen nodded dolefully as they walked towards Mrs. Gertrude's.

Ginny filled the rest of the day with one task after another. She ran training for Colt and Grant. Nellie watched nearby, though she still looked fearfully at any wand placed in her hands. During meals and while the others decorated Mrs. Gertrude's house, Ginny set herself to writing two more profiles, starting on a third so that by the time she fell into bed, she drifted right to sleep.


Christmas morning Ginny covered her face with her hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath before turning to her other side, only to find herself staring into Harry's green eyes. Nose-to-nose with him, she froze, not daring to blink for fear he would disappear.

"Hello," Harry whispered, grinning easily at her.

"Hi." Ginny's word was breathless as she lay still.

"I've missed you."

Cautiously, she reached her hand out, stroking his cheek, tentatively running a stray lock of black hair, peppered with grey, between two fingers. Harry turned his head, kissing the inside of her wrist. "I've missed you, too," she said.

He wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her into him, kissing her gently. "I've only thought of you, you know. And the kids. It's all that's on my mind."

Ginny pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes and breathing him in. "I'm sorry I was cross with you before."

"Shhhh," Harry said. "It's not time for apologies. The kids will be here soon enough, I think."

"They stayed at the school," Ginny said. "And James is with Charlie."

There was a distant knocking. "You better get that," Harry said.

Ginny turned to look towards the door, and when she turned back Harry was gone.

The knock grew louder as Ginny's eyes jerked open. It had been a dream. She looked beside her. Harry, of course, was not there. Yet the dream had been so real that she could still feel her lips tingling where Harry had kissed her. Could still feel the pressure of his hand on the small of her back. She covered her mouth, forcing herself to choke back a sob.

The knocking started at her door again. "Ginny? Ginny, you have to see what Peter did!"

It was Imogen's voice on the other side.

"I'll—" her voice cracked on the word. She stopped and cleared her throat. "I'll be right there."

She could hear Imogen's footsteps as she dashed away.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Ginny found her clothes from the day before, putting them on and making her way out back. She could see snow, falling steadily through the windows. Stepping onto the porch, she saw everyone else was awake, running through the snow as Peter held his wand up, directing continual drifts. The unexpected chill made Ginny cross her arms as she watched Miles, Trenton, and Leiza running after each other with powdery snowballs. Dakota and Fritz laid in snow angels they'd made, though the forms were ruined as Fritz now leaned over, arm around Dakota's waist, kissing her. Imogen and Leighton stood with their mouths wide open, tongues out, pointed skyward to catch the falling snowflakes. Even Nellie sat in a pile of snow, running a bare finger into the powder, creating patterns.

Running back inside, Ginny grabbed her wand and put on proper shoes quickly. She came out, finding Taylor, who was smiling on the sidelines. "Ready to learn some new spells?" Ginny asked.

Taylor pulled her wand out. "Always," she replied.

Ginny showed her how to make snowballs with a simple charm, and then how to make them fly at the three already engaged in a snowball fight. One of Taylor's stray snowballs hit the side of Fritz's face, who cursed in German and stood, pulling his own wand out.

Fritz cycled through a handful of spells he knew as Ginny and Taylor continued to dominate, the others all still making snowballs by hand to counter their attack. Finally, pointing his wand to the snow in front of him, Fritz shouted, "Protego!" A wave of snow lifted and hit Taylor and Ginny mildly.

Adding him to their attacks, everyone else seemed to catch onto what Fritz had done and they soon had half a dozen people shouting Protego to the snow, wave after wave piling up on them until Ginny finally screamed. "Truce! Truce!"

A few more waves and they finally obliged. Ginny looked over to where Taylor was laughing, her dark hair coated in a glittering layer of snow. "Help me out," Ginny said and the two tried desperately to untangle one another from the snow that had packed around their ankles. Falling back in, Ginny's side hurt for laughing until she caught Peter's eye. He was watching her, smiling with the sort of intent that made her feel exposed.

She sobered, standing and remembering that she couldn't let her guard down. Not even on Christmas.

Over the next hour, people abandoned the snow patch one-by-one. Peter finally stopped keeping it neat, allowing the sun to melt their morning fun away. Ginny went back in, changed into dry clothes and examined a pile of presents and notes; mostly from her family, though Neville and Hannah had sent a box of chocolates, with a note of well wishes and promises that they were going to make Christmas fun for Albus and Lily. Her mother had sent her both her own sweater as well as Harry's this year. "Just in case," the attached note said. Ginny put this one high in the closet, still folded neatly.

The rest of the day Ginny distracted herself by insisting on helping with the large Christmas dinner Mrs. Gertrude had planned. In the evening, after eating, everyone found their own places scattered around the first floor of Mrs. Gertrude's home. Imogen brought out her cauldron, setting it on the kitchen table. Ginny lit a contained flame as Imogen picked a potion from her book to try. Several of the others sat around, playing with a deck of cards James had given to Miles, watching as with each card someone's nose became a pig snout, found themselves with cat ears, or, as Leighton experienced, the ability to only speak in croaks. Peter stayed near them, looking on with a glass of wine and laughing.

Ginny looked to Imogen as she added crushed beetles to the potion. Rather than grabbing the handle of the spoon, Imogen held her hand palm down six inches above the cauldron. She moved her hand slowly clockwise and the spoon followed.

"How are you doing that?" Ginny asked.

Imogen looked up, going instantly pink. "Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to," she said, grabbing the handle to continue.

Ginny sat across from her at the table. "No, show me," she requested. Imogen looked unsure, but leaned the spoon against the cauldron's edge and started doing it again. It was controlled, deliberate, and—still astonishing to Ginny—wandless. "Did I ever explain to you why you needed to use a wand?"

"So that the spells are directed correctly," she said.

"Yes," Ginny said, thinking. "Yes, and that's true. But most wizards and witches also lose their abilities to do magic without a wand as they get older. Even though you're born able to do magic, adults need conduits, which is why we use wands. In extreme situations they might be able to do protective spells instinctively, though they're erratic. But by your age, you shouldn't be able to do that." She pointed at the spoon.

Imogen bit her bottom lip, like she wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. "I can just… feel it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can feel it... the spoon... under my hand. The liquid too, but I just … pull on the spoon so only that moves." She reached over and grabbed Ginny's hand, placing it over the cauldron and spreading out Ginny's fingers. "Can't you feel it? Right in the middle of your hand?"

Ginny waited for a minute, trying to see what she meant, then shook her head.

Imogen sighed. "James said he can't either," she looked down at the book.

As Imogen read the next instruction, Fritz and Dakota burst into the kitchen, radiant smiles plastered across their faces. "We have an announcement," Fritz said, his German accent stronger than Ginny had ever heard it. His sandy blond hair was untidy and Dakota's cheeks were perfectly blushed. "I asked Dakota to marry me and she said yes!"

The men in the room perked up happily, but it wasn't anything compared to most of the young women, who created an unified, ear-piercing squeal, jumping up to crowd the two of them, begging to see the ring.

"It's nothing fancy," Fritz admitted. "My grandfather tried to teach me when I was very young to carve and Peter helped me get the tools."

"It's perfect," Dakota said, kissing his cheek. Ginny could see it as Leiza and Leighton grabbed her hand. It was made of of a dark wood—wide with a pattern of soft, overlapping waves carved into its edges. Ginny got closer, seeing that the waves weren't perfectly spaced, but had been created with care.

"It's too big," Fritz said.

"Here," Ginny reached into the circle with her wand and touched the ring. It adjusted itself, fitting to Dakota's finger perfectly. "That's one that comes in handy if you're ever pregnant," she said.

Dakota smiled her thanks, the glint of hope for life in her eyes leaving Ginny feeling suddenly empty. It was like every moment not filled with distraction from the last two days hit like a hex to the chest. The dream of Harry, the memory of their own wedding hanging around her neck, the folded sweater in the closet, and the wedding band that should be on Harry's finger seemed to crush her from every side.

Peter was parting the crowd and Ginny weaved towards the back, making her way to the door and squeezed through. Quietly shutting it behind her amid the cacophony of congratulations, Ginny ran across the lawn back to her cottage.

Her first thought was to get some more writing done; take out the third article she had started the night before and focus on Quidditch and work. As she paced restlessly in the kitchen trying to work herself up to this, she realized it wasn't going to be productive.

Instead, she went to the mirror. She wanted a drink, but she probably shouldn't go out look how she usually did, she decided. Touching wand to hair, Ginny watched it shorten and brighten to a blonde almost as light as Imogen's. Her eyes became hooded and her nose widened. Her freckles stayed (that was one feature she never seemed able to alter), but as she examined herself, she felt she looked different enough before heading out the door.

It was already dark, so she didn't want to go far. Though she'd never entered, she knew around the corner was a larger pub. The nearly empty space reminded her, yet again, that it was Christmas. "Glass of mead, please," she ordered, then found a space in a dark corner to sit in.

It struck Ginny almost immediately how much more appropriate this setting was for her mood. She was glad she hadn't stayed, putting a damper on Fritz and Dakota's announcement. Morose music played in the background and Ginny stared into her mug, wiping the dew off the edge of the glass with her thumb as she tried to remember the details of her dream with Harry. Even though she knew it was in her mind, it was more real than anything she'd experienced in the pensieve over the last few months. She closed her eyes, willing her mind to conjure the experience again. Maybe if she thought hard enough about it, she could see Harry again tonight.

"Hello there, Rabe," a man said, approaching the bar. His Australian accent was more gruff than Imogen, Dakota, or even Peter's Australian lilt. It was harsh and loud, and it pulled Ginny from her daydreaming. "I've heard you've been writing letters to the ministry about me."

The bartender paled in the dim light. The man turned as he pulled up a stool under him and Ginny recognized him from the pictures Peter had gathered and shown the group. Dark, thinning hair was set off by a thick beard. His wide frame was imposing, and he was taller than Ginny had thought. It was Leonard Godfrey. Ginny drew her wand and moved slowly through the shadows of the pub, as the bartender stammered, looking to the door behind him.

"Your family is home then?" Godfrey asked him. "Good, good. I have been meaning to introduce myself. And, good news mate, I have a new Christmas present to test out."

"Look, I'll retract it," the bartender said.

"Oh, but that's no fun." Godfrey rolled up the sleeve to his right arm, flexing his fingers. "I've had my brother working on this one for ages. Now let's see," he said. "Ah, yes—" His fingers stretched and a flash of orange shot from his palm. The bartender ducked and the flash hit a bottle right behind where his head had just been, shattering the glass. Two other patrons, who had been inching towards the exit, ran out into the street. Godfrey ignored them.

The bartender scrambled towards the end of the bar, stopping short as Godfrey pointed a finger towards him. "Not done with you yet," he said and the bartender was lifted, legs kicking helplessly in the air.

Instinctively, Ginny threw a jinx towards Godfrey. It was aimed for the middle of his back, but inches from hitting its mark, it repelled, expanding into one large field of white that bounced right back at Ginny. Before she could react it threw her against the wall behind her and down to the ground. She gasped for breath, feeling the sharp pain in her ribs. Her hair hung around her face, once again long and red.

"Did you hire some security, Rabe?" Godfrey asked. He hadn't even looked back as Ginny groped around for her wand, getting to her knees.

"No! No! I swear," Rabe said. "…tourist…out-of-town…"

Godfrey threw Rabe back to where he had initially stood causing a loud crash of bottles and body, liquid flowing from the shelves.

Ginny could see Godfrey turning from between the legs of tables and chairs. She was trying to raise herself, prepare for his next move when a crash sounded from above. The rafters of the pub cracked, starting to fall. Ginny covered her head as dust and debris fell, then an arm was gripping hers. "Move!" Taylor commanded in a hiss.

Ginny stumbled after her, letting the pull on her arm press her forward and out onto the dark street. "What were you thinking?" Taylor demanded as she pulled Ginny into the nearest alcove. "I don't know how to do the disillusionment right, can you manage?" Ginny could already hear the scuffle from the direction of the pub.

Holding her side, Ginny nodded, pulling out her wand and performing the charm on Taylor first, then herself, collapsing against the wall. She felt Taylor crouch in front of her, one arm blocking Ginny as Godfrey pushed the bartender in front of him out of the pub. "Where did your patron run off to Rabe?" Godfrey's booming voice echoed in the street. Rabe's words were indecipherable, but Ginny could see Godfrey push him back towards the door of the pub. "I suppose for now you've had punishment enough. Get your place back together and if I hear of you talking to anyone at the ministry again, I'll come back."

Rabe stood at the entrance of his pub, looking over his shoulder, and slumping against the door frame.

"Let's go," Taylor said after Godfrey was well down the street. She felt around, finding Ginny's arms and helping her stand. She allowed Ginny to wrap and arm around her shoulder, supporting her as she limped back to the house.

"How did you know I was there?"

"Charlie asked me to keep an eye on you while he was gone," she said. "He was worried you'd do something stupid. Guess he was right. Don't you remember, Godfrey has protection against magic?"

"Didn't you see though?" Ginny asked. "He doesn't just have protection from it anymore… he can use it."

Taylor paused. "How?"

"I don't know." She groaned as a wave of pain in her side increased.

"Almost there," Taylor said.

They entered the dark cottage, Taylor lighting her wand and guiding Ginny into her bed. Ginny told her how to do the counter charm and she made both of them visible again. "I think that's twice I owe you now, Taylor."

"You can remember that when we've got Harry back and are deciding who gets him on what nights of the week."

Ginny gave a half-hearted laugh, wincing as a result. "Do me a favor, no jokes right now."

"I'm going to get someone who can fix you up." Taylor tucked a pillow under the side that Ginny held.

"Not Peter," Ginny said.

"I know," Taylor replied as she walked out the door.