A/N: This chapter is necessary in order to move the story along. Ah, a Christmas chapter in the summer...well, this one's been years in the making, several pieces of the story have been written for quite some time. It's the putting together that's difficult, because it's got to flow. Have a great day, to whomever reads this!

Chapter 14: Eternity

Ginny was forced to leave her luggage in a haphazard mountain by the fireplace of the Burrow, as she was assaulted by her mother upon arrival.

"Oh, Ginny, Ginny, my dear!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Finally! We're all here; come, come and see your brothers…"

Charlie looked slightly disheveled, as always; the twins were wearing identical mischievous smiles, as always; Bill and Fleur were gazing into each other's eyes by the Christmas tree—a new kind of always; Percy was absent, of course, the always everyone sensed keenly but never spoke of; off in the corner, Mr. Weasley was, as always, sitting in his shabby armchair, taking in the sights around him contentedly.

And then there were the others. Ron was bickering quietly with Hermione, probably over something incredibly trivial, as always. Harry (Ginny sighed internally—to what end, she wished she knew) was staring off to the side with something heavy on his mind, no doubt, and tuning out his best friends.

Each of the three hugged her in turn, Harry lingering more than was perhaps appropriate. "It's really good to see you, Ginny," he whispered in her ear.

"You, too," she managed, completely taken aback by his words. The words were, of course, perfectly normal at a gathering like this, but somehow they seemed anti-climactic in the time and place.

Ginny was placing all her gifts under the tree when Hermione caught up with her. The would-have-been Head Girl had millions of questions about the current state of Hogwarts.

"And Neville? What's he been up to?"

"If you mean romantically, Demelza Robins has definitely been paying him extra-special attention."

Hermione laughed lightly at the good news, though Ginny could sense that the young woman had little to laugh at these days.

"I heard from your mother about that fall you took at school…thank goodness you're all right." Hermione would take that news with great gravity, what with her fear of flying. "I never learned how you were saved, though."

This was curious…curious, indeed. In the owl that had been sent to her family, hadn't Professor McGonagall written that Draco Malfoy was the person she owed her life?

"She caught onto her broom handle before she reached the ground, of course," Ron chimed in, interrupting the close-knit conversation.

Ginny weighed in her mind the ramifications of correcting her brother's falsehood. Should she really bring up Draco's unsuspected heroic act, here and now?

She glanced at Harry, who was paying her very close attention, and decided to keep the truth quiet, at least for the time being.

At that moment, a silvery-blonde plait of hair flashed into view.

"I made zome treacle tarts, if you would like one!" Fleur offered the three of them, holding out the tray of treats in front of her.

Ginny merely blinked at her sister-in-law, internally embarrassed that her stomach had lurched inexplicably with hope at the sight of such slivery blonde hair. Why such a reaction, when that wouldn't even make sense—? She shook her head, partially in response to Fleur's mangled-looking tarts, and partially so as to sober herself.

Only Ron took a tart—five of them, actually—and stared wordlessly at Fleur's retreating back. He ambled over to Harry with his mouth stuffed full.

"Haven't things changed since Fleur married Bill?" asked Hermione, referring to Ron's current state. It was obvious Hermione was miffed at his behavior, and Ginny suspected why.

"I dunno. I haven't been around, of course… How are things between the two of you, anyway?"

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about," Hermione lied, turning a light shade of pink.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Hermione paused, seeming to have just found the perfect moment to bring something up. "You know, Ginny, I do believe Harry's missed you quite a bit. A whole lot, actually," she said in an undertone.

"Oh?" said Ginny, surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, he sometimes mumbles your name at night…talks in his sleep," Hermione explained. "I don't know if he realizes it himself. But you must see the way he looks at you now…it's as if he didn't understand what he was missing when he broke things off, before."

Ginny stole another glance at Harry, who had been staring at her, and he sharply looked away.

"Hermione…" she began slowly. "Would he really go back on his decision…?"

"I don't know. But if I were in your position, I'd want to find out." Hermione left Ginny with those words to grab a butterbeer from the kitchen.

An hour or so later, Ginny cornered Ron while he was alone.

"Why did you say I had saved myself from my fall at Hogwarts?" she demanded, keeping her voice down.

"What?" Ron appeared completely clueless.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer in.

"You heard me. Why'd you lie?"

"I didn't lie! For Merlin's ruddy sake, Ginny, I only repeated what Mum just told me a couple days ago!"

"Oh." Ginny backed off, pausing. "Sorry, Ron." She let go of his shirt.

"Yeah, yeah…" Ron grumbled, massaging his neck.

"How's Hermione, by the way?"

"You saw her yourself; she's all right."

"Dear brother, you can't be telling me you haven't gotten closer to her these few months."

"So what if I have? The world could easily go to hell, and then there'd be no chance for us, anyway—" Ron stopped himself short as a smirk began to spread across his sister's face. "Shut it, you."

"I didn't say a word," Ginny reminded him, in an innocent tone.

"Well, you better bloody not make anything of that."

"Okay, okay," she conceded, pulling Ron into a big hug.

"What's this for?"

"I just missed you, Ronald."

Ron looked sheepish. "Me too, Ginny. Me too."

"Ginny, Ron, come and help set the table!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. After a moment without their responses, she added, "Now!"

The brother and sister exchanged glances before performing the task their mother ordered of them.

Dinner went off without a hitch, and everyone went to bed with their stomachs fully satisfied. Ginny found her mother in the kitchen afterwards, where the mother of seven was waving her wand lazily at the dirty dishes as levitating sponges scrubbed at them.

"Mum, I was wondering whether you still had that letter McGonagall sent about my accident at school."

"In the drawer over there," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing sleepily. "Why?"

"Dinner was great, Mum. Best ever," Ginny complimented her.

Changing the subject worked. Mrs. Weasley smiled contentedly. "Thank you, my dear. You really ought to get to bed, you must be exhausted from your travels."

"I came instantaneously by Floo—oh, never mind." Ginny took the letter she had asked for and ascended the stairs quickly.

Hermione was already asleep on her cot when Ginny entered the room. The latter lit the candle on her desk and read over the Headmistress's note to her parents.

As she had come to suspect, Draco's name was nowhere to be found in the letter. Instead, the lie Ron held to be fact was written here. Why hadn't McGonagall mentioned someone else has saved her? Her parents may not have liked that a Malfoy had saved her, but Ginny felt that credit should be given where credit is due…

Ginny stifled a huge yawn and realized that her mother was right, and she should get some rest. This issue of falsehood could wait, at least for now.

So much for actual rest. Though she was dreadfully tired, Ginny tossed a turned for half the night. The letter troubled her more than she wanted it to. None of it made sense.

When Ginny did sleep, she dreamt. Her visions weren't of sugar plums, nor of a new broom, nor any other thing pertaining to Christmas.

No, her dreams were of Hogwarts. Simple ideas, first. Looking down at a frothing cauldron, or a textbook, or her plate in the Great Hall. And then she saw students whizzing past her on brooms. She caught sight of Luna, then of Neville, then of Colin—the nasty bloke he was, giving her a waggish look even in her sleep.

And then Ginny was falling, falling as she had done a couple of months before. A pale hand reached out from the abyss and caught hold of hers. The grip was firm, reassuring. As if the person whose hand it was never wanted to let her go.

The last thing she sensed was a lingering feathery-light kiss on her knuckles.

She woke up with a start. The room was cast in the faint light of the sun's first attempt at rising. Christmas Eve morning.

Even though she didn't try, Ginny knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. So she decided to bring her Christmas presents for everyone downstairs and place them under the tree.

On her way down the stairs, Ginny nearly fell to her death, tripping over a box of ornaments someone had forgotten to hang on the tree. She was just hanging up her favorite homemade snowflake ornament when a voice behind her said, "I would place it a little farther left."

Ginny gasped, holding a hand to her heart. "Harry!" she exclaimed in a low voice, when she found the perpetrator. "You frightened me…"

"Terribly sorry," Harry said, smiling. His apology did not seem sincere; instead, the Boy Who Lived took amused delight in the redhead's startled reaction.

"These are desperate times we live in, and you of all people know it. I should've just hexed you before checking to see who you were."

"The protections on your house are the strongest the Order has to offer," Harry reassured her. "I'm here, after all."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because you're the world's most-wanted wizard right now."

"Well, yes. I am. Especially after what Ron, Hermione and I had to do at the Ministry last month."

She held her hands up between them. "Never mind. I don't want to know what's going on, or I can't, according to you, at least. So let's stop talking about this."

"You're just going to give me the silent treatment? We should catch up. I want to know how things are at Hogwarts."

"They're fine," Ginny answered him firmly, not daring to expound on what had been happening in her life there. "And if mum's the word for you, it will be for me, too, until you man up."

"What do you want to know, exactly?"

Ginny looked Harry straight in the eye. "Maybe I want to know where you've been all this time. Maybe I deserve some answers. I think I've been pretty patient, wouldn't you say?"

"Ah, well…"

"Can't you tell me?"

"Uh…Ron, Hermione, and I are hunting down bits of Voldemort's soul…"

"What?"

"Shhh," he said. "You're going to wake everyone up."

"Harry, you're going to need to explain yourself if I'm going to have to understand that."

He sighed. "All right, then. Please, sit."

Ginny begrudgingly obeyed. She folded her arms and waited for him to start.

Harry took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just…complicated."

"Just try your best, then."

"Er…last year, as you know, I had meetings with Dumbledore every now and then…"

"I remember you sneaking off for those, yeah."

"And he told me a lot of things about Voldemort; Tom Riddle's past and what he accomplished for himself. We focused on the fact that Voldemort wanted to ensure that he wouldn't die easily."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but nodded for him to continue.

"What he did to make this happen was make these things called Horcruxes, which are basically objects that can contain a piece of a human soul."

She gasped. "But…how do you make something like that?"

"Murder." The word made Ginny gulp with horror.

"So…you're trying to destroy the objects?"

"It's not as simple as that, Ginny."

That, at least, she believed. "How many of these…Horcruxes does he have lying around?"

"Well, only three left, now that we've gotten hold of and destroyed a few. He originally made six, so he'd have seven pieces of his soul."

"The magical number," Ginny said. Seven was, of course, known in the wizarding world as a very powerful number—the most powerful, in fact.

"Right."

Ginny slumped on the sofa. "This is pretty unbelievable, Harry."

"I know," he agreed. After a beat, he said, "You know, Gin, I really missed you. A lot."

His saying that was supposed to make her smile, and cry, and laugh all at once. But she couldn't believe he meant it. He may have just told her the truth about many things, but this…this was innately different. She also wondered where the nickname 'Gin' had come from…certainly she hadn't permitted him to use it.

"Did you really miss me?" she asked him skeptically.

"Of course. You're my girlfriend, after all."

That was news to her. "Your girlfriend? So that's what I am to you? After everything you've put me through?"

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin, Harry, if you're telling me you think I should come back to you, as if no time has passed, you're seriously delusional."

"Delusional!"

"Well, come on. Think about it: you've told me repeatedly that we can't be together, because of all you've got to do. Then you left, and I went off to school…that's not a very 'boyfriend' thing to do to abandon me like that without any real explanation!"

"But now I've explained everything, haven't I?"

"That's beside the point."

"Ginny, why can't we just—?"

"What? Pretend it never happened? Oh yes, may we let by-gones be by-gones, just so Harry Potter can snog his maybe-girlfriend whenever he pleases!"

"I mean it, though, I did miss you—"

"Me, or kissing me—kissing somebody?"

"You, of course."

Ginny's laugh was derisory this time. "Right," she said incredulously.

"That laugh…" Harry paused. "Merlin, that reminded me of…"

"Of what?"

He laughed now, but his was much lighter than hers. "This is ridiculous, but actually…of Malfoy. You were laughing like Malfoy would whenever he made fun of me. Seems pretty stupid, now, all that petty arguing. We're in the middle of a war!"

How could he find such an inane thing funny? Ginny did doubt that Harry would be joking around about Draco's harmlessness if he knew how much time that certain Slytherin and Ginny had been spending together, alone and sometimes locked away in a dungeon. It was innocent friendship, really, but would Harry see it that way? She doubted this as well.

Harry craned his neck upward, and Ginny saw what he was looking at: a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the two of them. He leaned right in to kiss her, but she pushed him away, tossing her fiery mane back—a sign of warning to Harry, as he was not on her good side any longer.

He didn't catch the red flag, however. "Gin, I was just trying to make up."

"Make up? Make up?"

"Yes!"

"And when it comes time for us to part at the end of the holiday, what are you going to say?"

"Uh, I'm not sure what—"

"Harry, I know exactly what you're going to say." His mouth opened and closed, and then he gestured for her to continue. "You'll say, 'I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I made a mistake.' And I won't say anything, because you'll have let me down yet again."

Ginny was surprised to find, that although her voice was choked up with emotion, she wasn't crying.

"I wouldn't do that to you—" Harry started.

"You say that now," Ginny snapped.

Harry took her face in his hands. "I say that from now on. Forever." And then he brought their lips together, under the mistletoe.