Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

It was nearing one in the morning, Harry knew. He'd been laying here, tossing and turning, for hours already. For whatever reason, he was unable to fall asleep. Perhaps it was stress. The deadline grew closer with every passing day, and he'd made no more progress on the Weasley family. On top of that, Draco's visit was fast approaching, and Harry had no idea what to do about Mrs. Malfoy.

The only sound in the room was Ron's snoring. He'd been asleep within five minutes of lying down. Harry rolled over, and tried to calm his thoughts. It was nearly impossible. The moment he finally managed to clear his mind, some image or worry would pop up again. Eventually, he managed to drift off into a fitful sleep.

He was walking down the blown out corridor. At first, it seemed deserted, but then he spotted Draco, standing near one of the large holes. He faced out, back turned. Harry stepped closer. There was something he needed to tell Draco, something he desperately needed him to know. He moved faster, hurrying down the corridor, sure, for some reason, that time was running out.

It was like he was moving through molasses. Everything was horrifyingly, frustratingly slow. He reached a hand out for Draco's shoulder. Before he could touch it, the blond leapt off the ledge, plummeting towards the ground. Harry reached for him, leaned out as far as he could, but the hood of the robes slipped through his grasp.

Harry woke in a cold sweat. The watch Ron had left sitting on the bedside table read 2:13am. Harry rolled over again, trying to go back to sleep, but it was even harder now. He thought back to the dream, willing himself to remember what it was that he'd needed to tell Draco. Every time he had almost grasped it, it slipped away from him, until it was lost completely. Resigned, Harry closed his eyes once more, and eventually drifted off.

..o.O.o..

"Wake up, Harry! It's Christmas!" Harry peeled open his eyes. The blurry figure of Ron hovered over him. "C'mon mate, get up!"

Harry groaned, and groped around on the bedside table for his glasses. Finding them, he picked them up and shoved them on his face. A glance at the watch which still sat on the bedside table informed him that it was just after seven. He pushed himself up out of bed, and followed Ron downstairs.

In the living room sat the Christmas tree. Harry had gone out with Ginny and Mr. Weasley to find it, and had been quite surprised at how easily it was felled with magic. The tree was decorated in a combination of homemade ornaments, old and new. Ginny and Hermione had spent an afternoon threading popcorn and cranberry chains, which hung across the bows. There were ornaments that looked as though they'd been made by young children, which Harry assumed had been around a long time. Atop the tree sat a glittering silver star, which seemed to shimmer.

The room was lit by both the fireplace and the tree, which hosted a couple dozen tiny candles, lit by magic flames that wouldn't burn were the candles to fall. Nearly everyone else was already up, it seemed. Mr. Weasley and Bill, who had arrived the night before, sat on the sofa. Fleur and George each occupied an armchair. On cushions by the fire, Ginny and Hermione were engaged in conversation. Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley clattering away in the kitchen.

'Good morning's were exchanged all around, and Harry and Ron joined the girls by the fire. It was another fifteen minutes or so before Percy came down, taking a spot on sofa. Eventually, Ginny was sent to rouse Charlie, as he didn't seem to be waking up on his own. Once everyone was present, Mrs. Weasley called them to breakfast, and they feasted on eggs, pancakes, and bacon.

After breakfast, it was time for presents, and everyone gathered in the living room once more. Harry received a Weasley sweater, a book of Quidditch strategy from Ginny, a travelling cloak from George and Percy, another homework planner from Hermione (this one enchanted to follow him around and poke at him when he was supposed to go study), new extra-grip Seeker's gloves from Ron, some nice quills from Bill and Fleur, and candy from Charlie.

His own gifts were distributed as well. Ginny laughed to see that Harry had gotten her the very same Quidditch strategy book she'd gotten him, Ron claimed he would hang up the Chudley Cannons poster right away, and Hermione actually squealed when she saw Hogwarts a History: Revised Edition. He'd given Mrs. Weasley yarn, Mr. Weasley some muggle knick-knacks, and everyone else sweets of some sort.

The opening of the Weasley's sweaters was, admittedly, a bit dampened. No one missed the fact that there was one less sweater than usual. George stared down at his sweater, tears in his eyes. "I miss him too," Harry said simply. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd decided to say it. Perhaps it was that the way no one talked about it, about Fred, was getting to him. It was like they all ignored the loss, rather than healed together.

"Yeah," said George.

"Remember the year he swapped George and Ginny's sweaters?" said Percy, "You looked a bit ridiculous with it only coming to your belly button."

"What about the time he captured a gnome and hid it in Perce's bedroom?" said Bill. There were soft chuckles from around the room.

"Not as bad as the niffler he set on me once," Charlie argued, "My room was torn to bits."

"I don't remember that," said Ginny.

"I don't know that you were even born yet then," replied Bill.

They all continued to share memories of Fred. When Mr. Weasley spoke for the first time, telling of when Fred had fallen from a broom trying to break into Percy's bedroom from outside, Harry felt the surge of success. Ron had apparently been wrong about what his father needed. It wasn't assurance that none of it had been his fault, but rather openness about Fred. Harry had technically been the one to start the conversation, he realized, so he could be credited with the success.

..o.O.o..

Harry watched the white bishop slide across the board. It attacked the rook sitting there, sending shards of black flying in all directions. "Check," said Ron.

There had to be a way out of this. Harry looked down at the board, scanning for options. He grimaced. The only opening would set Ron up perfectly. Still, there were no other options. He scanned the board again to be sure. Ron had set him up. "King to C2," said Harry resignedly.

Ron grinned at him. "Knight to E3." The knight slid across the board slowly. "Check mate," intoned Ron.

"Well played," Harry congratulated him.

"Just my superior powers of intellect," Ron said teasingly. Ginny snorted. "What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, trying to muffle her giggles, "Nothing at all."

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall—normal, not Weasley—as Ginny and Ron argued. "Do you think she'll be all right?" he asked.

The others quieted. "She'll be fine," said Ginny, but she didn't sound too sure.

"I wish she'd have let me come along," Ron sighed.

Hermione had left about an hour before to visit her parents. Despite nearly everyone in the house claiming they'd be happy to come along, she'd insisted she go alone. Everyone was a bit worried for her. "She hasn't been gone long yet, anyway," Ginny said. Harry and Ron nodded reluctantly. They sat in silence, everyone lost in thought, before Ginny spoke again.

"I was thinking I might go see if Luna wants to come over for a bit," she said, hesitantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow teasingly at her. She blushed a bit. "That's a lovely idea, Gin."

"Go ahead," said Ron.

"Right. Well, I guess I'll go walk over to her place and get her," said Ginny.

"I think I'll come along," Harry replied. Ginny looked at him in surprise. "I'm only teasing. Go get her. And have fun on that walk."

..o.O.o..

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, George, and Bill were all in the living room playing exploding snap when Hermione returned. They heard the door open and close, and several of their heads looked up. Hermione walked into the living room, shedding her coat and scarf. She looked as though she'd been crying, but it could have just been the cold. "I brought a surprise!" she told them.

Through the doorway walked Neville, holding several paper parcels. "Happy Christmas!" he said. Ginny and Luna each jumped up, and embraced him from opposite sides.

"Hi, Neville!" said Harry.

"Happy Christmas!" added Ron.

Once the girls had stepped back a bit, Neville passed out the packages. "Your Christmas presents," he explained, "It's not much, but. . ."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry replied, opening his to see a package of cauldron cakes, "I didn't get you anything. I feel bad."

"It's fine," said Neville, "You didn't expect to be seeing me."

Ron and Hermione had been given candy as well—chocolate frogs for Ron, and Peppermints carved into different shapes for Hermione. Luna and Ginny each received a bracelet of fine chain—silver for Luna, gold for Ginny—with a few small charms Harry couldn't make out.

"Would you like to see my room?" Ginny offered.

"Sure," said Neville.

"That would be lovely," said Luna.

The three of them hurried off, perhaps a bit too quickly. Harry made eye contact with Hermione, who gave him a small smile. "Just happened to run into Neville at St. Mungo's, did you?" he asked.

"Nice coincidence, isn't it?" Hermione replied, grinning at him.

Before anyone could say anymore, there was the sound of an explosion behind Harry, as the deck of cards blew up. When the smoke cleared, everyone could see George, face covered in soot and hair standing on end. "I was going to shuffle," he said, then burst out laughing. The rest of them joined in. It wasn't until later that Harry realized it had been the first time he'd heard George truly laugh since the battle.

..o.O.o..

"Ron?" said Harry. It was just after eleven, and the room was dark. The day had passed in a happy sort of blur, and before he knew it, Harry was lying in bed once more.

"Yeah, Harry?" Ron replied.

"I was just thinking. . . George laughed earlier, really laughed. I feel like we really got somewhere, like maybe this is going to be something really good. And before, when everyone was talking about Fred. . . I don't know. I guess I'm just saying I'm glad things are changing."

There was no response, but Harry did hear Ron sniff. "Ron?" he asked again.

"What?" said Ron. It sounded a bit. . . different than Ron's normal voice.

Harry sat up, put on his glasses, and turned on the lamp. He could see Ron's face now. It looked as though he were trying very hard not to cry. Harry slipped out of bed, and went to him. "Are you okay?" he asked tentatively. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ron cry before. Well, perhaps a bit at the funerals, but really. . .

"'M fine," said Ron, hurriedly wiping his face.

"You know it's okay to be upset about him, and to cry, right?" asked Harry, "You don't. . . you don't have to pretend to be strong and not. . . It's strong to allow yourself to feel. Don't try to hide that, or push aside your feelings."

The tears continued to stream down Ron's cheeks, now uninterrupted. His face contorted into a gasping sort of sob. "I j-just. . . I miss h-h-him so much!" Anything else he was going to say was lost to the tears. Harry reached out, somewhat awkwardly, and hugged him. Ron let him, collapsing against Harry.

It was strange, in a way. He and Ron had never really been the huggy sort of friends. Emotions and physical contact were things their relationship often lacked. He tried to make comforting noises. He had no idea what effect they were having. As Ron cried, Harry was completely surprised to feel success radiating through him. He'd done it, apparently, done what Ron needed.

Eventually, Ron cried himself out. He pulled away from Harry, and laid back against the bed. He seemed a bit embarrassed. Harry tried to look reassuring. "You know, if you ever need to talk," Harry said, "you can talk to me. We're friends, after all."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, "And same for you, Harry, if you ever need something. . . don't hesitate to ask."

"I won't." Ron smiled at him. Harry got up, and returned to his bed, flipping of the lamp. "Good night, Ron."

"Good night, Harry."