A/N: Thanks to the two most fantabulous betas out there- Mel and Jonelle! Also thanks to all those who review. I make a point to respond to each one as they brighten my day. :)

Chapter 33--"Everything Happens For A Reason"

December 25, 1987-The Burrow

Ron sleepily rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the stairs. This Christmas was off to a most unusual start as he didn't wake up early in an effort to open his presents and scramble down to breakfast first. He simply couldn't believe that no one had woken him up or that his own body had let him down by sleeping late on Christmas no less. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he took a moment to realize that instead of being first down the stairs, he was last. Yet, when his eyes registered what was in front of them, he quickly forgot all about his tardiness and the unusualness of this Christmas.

Sitting at the table flipping through pages of a book was his older brother Percy. He was mumbling something about houses and common rooms. Charlie had a book open on the table in front of him, which occasionally was emitting short bursts of fire. Wait, where have I seen this before?, Ron thought.

A memory from an incident back in September rose in his mind. Bill and Charlie had been leaving on the Hogwarts Express when Charlie had jokingly put his arm around Ron's shoulders. The brush of Charlie's fingers against the skin just below the sleeve of Ron's shirt had Ron seeing something other than the scarlet steam engine in front of him.

The Christmas tree was sparkling a multitude of colours onto the floor of the kitchen through the doorway to the sitting room, creating a beautiful mosaic. Percy was sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through the pages of a book. Short bursts of fire was pluming up into the air from the book open in front of Charlie. Ron's mum was at the stove, frying up a small breakfast, even as she was starting on her preparations for Christmas dinner.

Ron jolted himself out of the recollection just in time to see his mum, scooping up potatoes for the bangers and mash breakfast that they traditionally had on Christmas. His brothers absentmindedly thanked their mum for the breakfast before returning to their respective books. Even as he heard the door open, Ron knew without looking that it would be his twin brothers walking through the door.

Fred and George each held a broom in their hands as they came through the back door. Their faces, reddened by the wind, held such a look of joy that can only come from experiencing something one never imagined. After placing their broomsticks beside the door, the two boys rushed to grab their mother and putting her between them, swung her round and round the room.

Hearing his mother chuckle at his twin brothers' antics, Ron quickly took a step to the right so that his body would be in front of a cupboard rather than the stairs. A second later, Bill came barrelling down into the kitchen from the stairs with his head down looking at a book he was holding in his left hand while his right hand twirled his wand, presumably trying to copy the motions from the book. In his mind's eye, Ron saw a different scene.

Bill had come barrelling down the stairs, not paying attention to where he was walking. Ron, who was watching everything from in front of the stairs, was sent crashing into the kitchen table. Bangers and mash were now taking up residence in Ron's hair as they had been sent flying up and off the table in the crash. His twin brothers were hugging their sides from the laughter that spilt out over the room.

He froze in shock when he realized what really had just occurred. "But that's not possible!" Ron muttered. His mum, who had just been released by the twins from their reckless twirling, was standing next to him, trying to catch her breath.

"What's not possible, Ronnie?" Molly asked. He froze, hoping that his mum really hadn't heard him or would drop it. Ron didn't really fancy a trip to St. Mungo's on Christmas Day. His mum continued. "You know, I imagine that Muggles think that lots of things are impossible that we know are not. And really, what is impossible in the world of magic? We thought for a while that it was impossible to survive the Killing Curse and yet you've even seen up close someone who's survived it." His mum looked at him and tilted her head to one side. "Most people would say that it was impossible that you saw your sister in Brighton. What are the chances that you would see her there? Maybe that's why I believe that nothing is impossible and that everything happens for a reason."

"Everything happens for a reason?" Ron parroted back to her.

"Do you think it was merely chance that led you to your sister? No, there was a reason that you saw her. If for no other than to give me hope once more that I shall see her again."

Ron looked over at his brothers that were gathered around the table. Some were reading, others were joking around. "So why then, Mum, was Ginny taken from us if everything happens for a reason?"

"Because, Ron, apparently, someone needed her more."

Harper Place

An abundance of food lined the table in front of Harry and Mena. It was one of the most festive days of the year at the orphanage, but both Harry and Mena's faces were solemn.

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't get you a present, Mena," Harry said, looking at his plate.

"I couldn't get you one either, you know," Mena responded, nudging him with her shoulder until he looked at her. "Besides, your presence is enough of a present for me." Mena caught his gaze with a small smile. The smile slipped off her face when her thoughts returned to where they had been dwelling the past few hours. "Harry." She bit her lip in hesitation. "Do you ever think about your family?" she asked quietly.

"Sometimes. I wonder if Aunt Petunia is better, if Dudley has changed at all." Harry shrugged. "What about you?"

"I think… I think I'm starting to forget them." Mena silently started to cry. "I can't see their faces anymore. I just remember that Dad had red hair like me and Mum had blue eyes. What am I supposed to do?"

Harry slipped an arm around her. "You hold on tight to what you do remember. It doesn't matter if the picture isn't clear. As long as you remember the happiness you had, that's all that really matters." Harry could hear himself saying the words, but had no clue where they came from. But as he thought about them, he realized how true it was. He didn't really remember anything about his parents; yet, he was sure that they were very happy. It was this feeling that had fuelled his desire to fit in with his aunt and uncle. He wondered if they were ever going to come back for him. A wave of melancholy spread through him until Mena grabbed his hand.

"We'll always be each other's family, right? Nothing can separate us," Mena declared firmly.

Harry smiled and nodded before adding, "And we'll always be together on Christmas."

The Burrow

"But, Mum," Ron protested, "how can anyone need Ginny more than us? I mean, she's my little sister, the only one I've got."

Not wanting her older boys to hear this discussion, Molly ushered Ron into the sitting room where Arthur sat studying a model of an aeroplane that he had gotten from Bill for Christmas. Giving Arthur a look and gesturing with her head toward the kitchen, she and Ron took a seat on the settee. Nodding in response, Arthur slipped out of the room and into the kitchen. Good, now maybe I'll find out some answers. Molly had been trying to find a way to talk to her youngest son for days now. She wanted to find out what exactly had happened in Brighton. Her talk with Pandora had yielded very little insight, other than it alleviated her fears about someone hurting Ron.

"By saying she's the only one you've got, are you implying that she's your only sister or your only younger sibling?" Molly asked, her eyebrows raised, showing her son that he better not lie to her.

"Well, she is the only sister I've got," Ron replied slightly belligerently.

"Don't you mean," Molly smiled gently, "she's the only one you could pick on like your brothers pick on you? Plus, if she was here, you two could go up against the twins together, right?"

Ron's face went slack when he heard these words. "Are you a mind reader, Mum?"

"Well…" seeing his face blanch, she laughed. "No, Ron, it's just I had siblings too, you know. Your uncles Fabian and Gideon used to pick on your Aunt Nell and me. One of the reasons she and I are so close is because of all the things we had to do together to keep our brothers at bay." For a minute, she got lost in the memories of her two older brothers who had died in the war. Reluctant to let go but knowing she needed to, she turned back to Ron. "But Ron do you remember who Ginny was with when you saw her in Brighton?"

"Well, Mrs. Longbottom said it was Harry Potter," Ron replied.

"And thinking back to when you saw them, didn't you say that they seemed to be best friends? Knowing what you do of Harry Potter's story, don't you think he might have needed her more? After all, you do have five brothers. He has no one," Molly questioned him gently. She didn't want Ron to feel like she was telling him that he was wrong in wanting his sister, because he wasn't. She longed for her little girl. Yet, something deep inside her told her not to worry now that she knew her daughter was safe. Ginny would return to her when the time was right.

Ron seemed to be thinking about what she said . Knowing that her son often needed additional time to process new ideas and simply think before talking--one of the things that made him such a good chess player--she was content to wait and let her eyes drift around the room. A peace settled over her when she gazed at the Christmas tree all aglow. Making her traditional Christmas wish on the tree, Molly's eyes next viewed the mantel by their fireplace. Thankful that it was large enough that she could still decorate it and be able to Floo, she smiled at the stockings that had been returned to their spots once the children had emptied them. Finally she heard her son starting to clear his throat.

"Mum, going back to what you said before about everything happening for a reason, do you really believe that?" Ron asked in a very small voice.

"Of course I do. The older I get, the more I'm convinced that everything—good or bad—that happens to us is to prepare us for something in our future. Our magic is incredibly clever at that or so it seems." Her memories of her brothers came to the forefront of her mind. Her sister's gift of dreams had not given them time to say goodbye, but it had helped deal with the grief. This experience in turn had helped her cope with the loss of her daughter.

"Mum… can I tell you something?" Ron asked in that same small voice.

"Ron, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?" Molly asked, hugging her son to her side. He nodded and looked up at her. She realized then that it wouldn't be too terribly long before he was taller than her. Ron, she suspected, was going to be the tallest of her children.

"Well… um…" Ron stopped and took a huge breath. Closing his eyes, he continued, "In Brighton, something happened. Oh, Mum, please don't send me to St. Mungo's, please!"

Ron's words seemed to melt together he said them so fast. It took her a moment to figure out what exactly he had said, which left her totally perplexed. She had been thrilled that Ron finally felt comfortable enough to tell what was wrong, but now he's anxious that she would send him to St. Mungo's? She shook her head before asking her son, "Why would I send you to St. Mungo's, sweetheart? Are you sick?"

Refusing to look at her, Ron answered, "Because I see things that aren't there."