The green flames subsided, and Harry emerged into the kitchen of the Burrow, which was filled with the customary sounds of pans being scrubbed, chickens clucking outside the window, and the constant ticking of the Weasley family clock.

Ginny was helping Ron to brush off the soot; she was taking extra care not to brush too harshly over his arms.

She turned away from Ron and began to brush the soot off Harry too. As her fingers skimmed over his arms, Harry felt a whoosh in his stomach that had little to do with nerves from the floo journey.

'Dears!'

Molly Weasley had appeared in the door. The Weasley matriarch, as always, gave off an atmosphere of warmth and kindness. As she bustled into the room, Harry saw her eyes flick momentarily to Ron's arms and her smile briefly become forced. There was a letter sticking out of Mrs Weasley's apron; McGonagall's neat handwriting was obvious.

Before Ron knew what was happening, his mother had placed her arms softly around his waist and hugged him, her hand reaching up to pat the back of his hair.

'Mum!' The youngest Weasley son exclaimed, his ears turning pink as he struggled to break away. 'Relax, I'm fine-'

'You are fine when I say you are, Ronnie,' Mrs Weasley said, gently but firmly. 'While you're under my roof for the holidays, at the very least.'

'Okay, just stop patting me like a child,' Ron grumbled, as his mother let him go and began to hug Ginny. 'Besides, Harry's here…'

'It's lovely to see you, Harry,' Molly said, letting go of Ginny and pulling Harry into a motherly hug. 'You're always welcome here, you understand?'

'Er, yeah,' Harry said, feeling his face burn and wishing that Ginny would stop looking at him. 'Thanks for having me.'

'Always a pleasure, dear,' Mrs Weasley said, kindly. 'Now, Ron, I know you've only just got back from school, but…'

'I know, I'll make sure to get my homework done.' Ron sighed, rolling his eyes. 'I'm not thick, even if I'm not as smart as Hermione-'

'I'd rather you didn't mention thatgirls name,' Molly interrupted, her expression suddenly serious. 'Speaking of which…Ron, do you know about the glamour charm for covering up scars?'

'Yeah,' Ron mumbled, a little sheepishly. 'Parvati and Lavender showed me.'

His mother smiled.

'That's good. In that case, would you like me to apply it for you?'

'You don't need to, mum-'

'I don't want you getting reminded of… that everytime you look at your arms.'

Ron shrugged.

'Whatever you want, mum. I'll take my stuff upstairs now. Coming, Harry?'

'Oh, yeah,' Harry said. 'Thanks again, Mrs Weasley.'

Ginny and Molly heard the sounds of the two boys walking up the long, winding staircase towards Ron's bedroom.

'Ginny?'

'Yes, mum?'

'What is happening with… with Hermione?'

'McGonagall mentioned it in her letter, didn't she?'

'Yes, but I just wanted to clarify that nothing has changed since.'

'It hasn't. Except…'

'What?'

'Well, I get the feeling Hermione regrets her actions.'

'I should hope so.'

Harry hadn't experienced the holiday season at the Burrow before, so he hadn't really known what to expect. He didn't think muggle celebrations usually involved a stunned garden gnome stuffed into a fairy's outfit (Fred and George's doing) or mistletoe that screamed 'kissy kissy!' at you whenever you walked under it, but he was enjoying the change nonetheless.

Bill had joined them, with Fleur in tow. Neither Ron nor Ginny were especially happy about this, but for entirely different reasons. Ron tended to drop whatever he was holding whenever Fleur entered a room, and Ginny found Fleur's comments about her long red hair (most of which involved the phrase 'delightfully unique') rather frustrating.

Personally, Harry thought Ginny's hair was gorgeous, but he decided it wouldn't be best to mention that when surrounded by several of Ginny's older brothers.

He did notice that Ron seemed to be eyeing Fleur and Bill's interactions, though. It wasn't as if he was trying to pick up tips, but more of a quiet inquisitiveness. As if trying to figure out exactly what the big deal was. Fleur wasn't as giggly as Harry had expected, but she did seem to spend a lot of time admiring Bill's hair.

'It is so lovely!' she exclaimed, as she twirled a lock of Bill's dark-red hair through her fingers. 'I 'ave always said most English men cannot shampoo properly, but somehow Bill manages it!'

Ginny caught Harry's eye, and pretended to gag over her apple crumble. Harry faked a coughing fit to cover his laughter.

Ron noticed this and smiled slightly to himself.

By around 10pm, everyone was beginning to yawn, so Mrs Weasley insisted that they all turn in for the night. The Burrow gradually began to be filled with the sounds of doors closing and people trapsing up the staircase to their rooms.

'Bill and Fleur seem to be enjoying each-other's company,' Harry said, as he and Ginny loitered in the kitchen under the pretence of getting cups of water.

'You're not having to share a room with her,' Ginny said, rolling her eyes. 'Wait, scratch that, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you-'

'No, I wouldn't!' Harry exclaimed, hotly, as the redhead snickered. 'Besides, she's not my type.'

'Yeah, sure she's not. Every man gets all doo-lally around her.'

'That's just the Veela charm. Ron's dating Luna, and he still gets affected by Fleur.'

Ginny shrugged, as they made their way up the stairs.

'What's wrong with Fleur, anyway?' Harry asked. 'Does she snore or something?'

'No; worse. She keeps going on about how lovely Bill is,' Ginny said, retching. 'Honestly, why do all my brother's girlfriends seem to think I enjoy hearing about that?'

'Luna talks to you about Ron?'

Ginny paused.

'Okay, she doesn't, but you get my point. No-one wants to hear about how good their sibling is at snogging.'

'Maybe that's what got Ron so irritated when you mentioned that he'd never snogged anyone?'

Ginny looked down at her feet sheepishly. The two of them were standing on the landing a little while below her room; Harry could make out the orchard through a nearby window.

'I guess,' Ginny mumbled, looking a little ashamed of herself. 'I didn't… I wasn't trying to make things difficult between Ron and Hermione. I just… I got angry.'

'I know, Ginny. Maybe you should tell Ron that, though.'

'You… you really care about him, don't you?'

'Course,' Harry said, shrugging. 'He's my best mate.'

Ginny smiled at him.

'I'm glad Ron met you.'

'Er, thanks,' Harry said, unable to look away from her.

The two of them continued to stare at each other, both of them seemingly unwilling to break the silence. Ginny's brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight, and her long red hair seemed to frame her face like a Renaissance painting. Harry felt his heart thump painfully against his chest.

'Kissy kissy!'

Harry jumped about a foot in the air. They had been standing under a twig of mistletoe.

Ginny giggled, although Harry couldn't help but notice that her bravado from earlier seemed to have lessened.

'I forgot the twins stuck these all around the house.'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'Shame Dean's not here.'

'First you go after my brother, and now my boyfriend too? I didn't know you were so fickle, Harry.'

'Eff off!' Harry laughed, pushing Ginny playfully on the shoulder.

Ginny wobbled for a second on the stair. Without thinking, Harry reached out and grabbed her, pulling her upright. Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately) he overestimated her weight and, a moment later, Ginny was leaning into him, her large brown eyes staring up at him.

'Er, thanks.'

'No… no worries.'

The two of them stood there for a second. Ginny was still leaning against Harry, her hand still intertwined with his. Harry felt his heart beat heavily against his chest. He could practically count the freckles on Ginny's nose, and his eyes were irresistibly drawn to her lips, which quivered as she breathed-

'Am I interrupting?'

Harry and Ginny both jumped and sprang apart.

Ron was standing on the upper landing, his face the very picture of nonplussed.

Harry's eyes went wide, and he felt his pulse quicken.

'N-nothing to interrupt!' Ginny exclaimed, before hurrying up the stairs to her landing. 'Night, then, Harry; M-Merry Christmas!'

She cast one last confused look at Harry, before closing her door behind her. Harry stared at the door for a few second, his heart still pounding in his ears.

'Mate?' Ron asked. 'You okay? You look a bit peaky.'

'Ron- me and Ginny-' Harry stammered, as he hurried up the stairs. 'We- it's not what it-'

'None of my business, Harry,' Ron said, a slightly too knowing look in his eye. 'I didn't see anything. And, besides, Ginny's with Dean, isn't she?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, softly. 'Yeah, she is.'

Silently, the two boys climbed the stairs to Ron's room, and changed into their pyjamas. Harry lay on the camp-bed for a long time, unable to sleep, staring up at the ceiling.

This was bad. Ginny was Ron's sister. She was dating someone! What was going on? It wasn't as if Harry was particularly close to Dean, but he had shared a dormitory with the bloke for five and a half years now. His stomach bubbled with guilt as he remembered the feeling of Ginny pressed up against him.

Ginny was dating someone; Harry had behaved like a right idiot. It wasn't Ginny's fault that Harry… that Harry…

Harry turned over, screwing up his eyes tight. The penny had finally dropped.

He fancied Ginny Weasley. He fancied the sister of his best mate. Ginny, who was already with someone. Ginny, who saw him as a friend. Ginny, who was kind, funny, sweet, had gorgeous hair, smelled like flowers and had once fancied Harry-

Stop it! Harry told himself, angrily. What's wrong with you?

Ginny hadn't done anything wrong. It was he, Harry, who had started noticing her.

Harry groaned. It was going to be a long, sleepless night.

Harry opened his eyes. Daylight was dimly beginning to creep into the room. Deciding that lying down and ruminating further about Ginny in his mind was a bad idea, he sat up.

The first splashes of daylight were not the only thing lighting up the room, though.

Ron was lying in bed, his covers haphazardly thrown off him. The redhead's eyes were scrunched up, and he was twitching in his sleep, making small grunts as he did so.

But that wasn't the weirdest thing. Harry stared at the redhead's arms, and his mouth dropped open.

Ron's scars from the ministry had never sat easily with Harry; he had always felt guilt whenever he saw them. After all, Ron had gotten them as a result of pushing Harry out of harm's way. But they were fairly unremarkable in spite of their weird origin. They wrapped around Ron's arms and did little except for attracting Ron some weird looks from other students whenever he rolled his sleeves up.

But that wasn't the case now.

They were glowing.

Throbbing with a bright blue light, as if the light were coming from within Ron and wanting to escape. They seemed to brighten and fade with each twitch Ron made in his sleep.

'No…' the redhead grunted; his expression pained. 'Stop… gotta… what…'

Harry tried to climb to his feet, but the camp-bed gave a deep groan. The scars light faded completely, and Ron's eyes snapped open.

'W-what?' he gasped. 'Where? How?'

Harry walked forward, tentatively.

'Mate, you okay?'

Ron looked around the room, his eyes confused.

'Y-yeah,' he mumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily. 'Just… weird dream…'

'What was it?' Harry said, urgently.

'Er… a cave… definitely a cave… and then… a tower…lots of lightning everywhere…'

Ron trailed off, looking baffled and a little worried. His forehead was creased with lines.

'Do you think it was important?'

Harry pushed his fingers through his hair, restlessly.

'I dunno. Weird, though. Do you normally get random dreams like that?'

'Not before the ministry,' Ron said. 'Madam Pomfrey said the brains could have some after-effects.'

Harry felt the usual pang of guilt in his stomach. After all, Ron had only been attacked by the brains because he'd pushed Harry out of harm's way.

'Don't blame yourself,' Ron said, knowingly. 'They're just dreams, mate. They're not hurting me.'

'Okay.'

'Besides; presents!'

Ron turned to the pile at the bottom of his bed, grinning. Harry grabbed his own pile and sat down beside Ron on the bed.

The new fifteen minutes were spent ripping the wrapping paper off the various gifts. Ginny had gotten Ron some new Quidditch gloves, and Harry had received some broom varnish from her.

There was a rather thick silence as they both realised that Hermione had not sent Ron a present. Harry awkwardly put down the homework planner she had bought him, but Ron shook his head.

'I was expecting it, mate. Don't worry about it.'

'I guess she just thought it would be… inappropriate to send you something.'

'Yeah.'

Deciding that changing the subject was probably best, Harry passed Ron his own gift; a pair of new goggles for Quidditch. Ron smiled at Harry.

'Thanks, mate.'

'No worries. Hey, what's that round one?'

Noticing the curiously-shaped parcel, Ron began to unwrap it. The paper, festooned with various magical creatures, gave some indication of who it was from.

'I think it's from Luna,' he said. 'I'm not sure what she wanted to get me but… oh…'

It was a Quaffle, and it was covered in signatures. Harry could make out the handwriting of most of their Gryffindor year group, plus several from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. There were even a few anonymous messages which Harry hazarded may have been from a few of the younger Slytherins.

'I did wonder why she wanted me and Ginny's signatures,' Harry said, recalling Luna's letter from the previous day. 'Where did she get the Quaffle, though?'

Numbly, Ron pointed to a signature near the lining.

Happy Holidays to an excellent Quidditch star! I thought the Quaffle from your winning final match of last season would be appropriate, given what Lovegood was after. Kind regards, Madam Hooch.

'I… I can't believe she did this,' Ron murmured. 'Merlin, how did… how much effort did this take?'

Harry shrugged.

'Isn't that good, though, mate?' he said, clapping Ron on the shoulder. 'I've always said you were an excellent player, and it looks like I'm not the only one.'

'Yeah…'

Ron was surprisingly quiet as they walked downstairs for breakfast.

The kitchen smelled strongly of onions as they entered; Mrs Weasley was already cooking up an enormous amount of food. She smiled warmly at them, before going back to the large chicken she was preparing.

Ron and Harry sat down at the table. The house was slowly getting louder as people woke up; they could hear the sounds of the twins mumbling to themselves in their room several floors up.

Harry's stomach dropped as Ginny dropped into the seat next to him, yawning loudly and with severe bed-hair (which Harry's traitorous heart thought looked rather lovely).

'Happy Christmas,' she yawned, pulling a bowel of porridge towards her.

'You're up early,' Ron said, pouring her a cup of pumpkin juice. 'Everything okay?'

'Fleur is rubbish at sneaking off to see Bill,' Ginny said, irritably. 'Hit her foot on the bottom of the wardrobe. I woke up to her swearing in French.'

'How could you tell it was swearing?'

'Oh, you could tell,' Ginny replied. 'Honestly, the girls in my dorm are way quieter, and there's four of them!'

Ginny swallowed a large spoonful of porridge, before turning to Ron again, her expression serious.

'Ron?'

'Yeah?'

'I'm… I'm sorry about what I said. You know, about you not kissing anyone. I shouldn't have brought it up; that wasn't fair.'

Ron stared at her, looking a little shocked at her earnestness.

'Er… okay. Thanks.'

'No worries. I… I was angry. That doesn't excuse it, I know, but still. I know I already apologised but… well, I'm sorry that me saying that caused so much hassle.'

Ron shrugged.

'Probably for the best. I would have learned about Hermione and Krum sooner or later. At least I knew where I stood.'

'I don't think she meant to keep it from you. Just… she was worried you'd get upset. She knew how much you disliked Krum.'

'I guess,' Ron said, biting into a slice of toast. 'You'd think she would have put two-and-two together about why I couldn't stand the bloke-'

'Ron!' Mrs Weasley said, bustling over. 'Could you go and get the twins? They're still lazing in bed.'

'Oh… er, sure,' Ron said, before swallowing the rest of his toast, and leaving the room. Harry could hear the sounds of him climbing the stairs.

He waited until Mrs Weasley was occupied with the chicken again, and then spoke.

'Er… Ginny?'

'Yeah?'

'Er… sorry about last night,' Harry said, wishing he wasn't blushing so much. 'On… on the stairs, I mean.'

Ginny stared at him for a second.

'You were really worried about that?' she asked, her tone relaxed. 'Harry, you just stopped me falling down the stairs. You did nothing wrong.'

'I… I didn't? I thought… f-for a second there…'

The redhead suddenly became extremely interested in her porridge.

'Oh. That.'

'Yeah.'

'You… you didn't do anything, Harry,' she said, her voice sounding quiet and... slightly vulnerable. 'It's my fault. For… for overbalancing. Besides, I'm the one with a boyfriend. I should be apologising to you.'

'You… you don't need to.'

'I want to.'

'Er… right.'

The two of them sat in awkward silence as they finished eating. Ginny had gone slightly red in the face, which confused Harry even more.

Deciding that it would be prudent to remove himself from Ginny's vicinity before any of her brothers appeared for breakfast, Harry finished his food and left the room.

The rest of the morning passed relatively calmly. Harry and Ron played one-on-one Quidditch in the Weasley orchard, using some of the family brooms. This meant that Harry could help Ron take his mind off everything, and Harry could take his mind off what was happening with Ginny (or, to be more precise, what certainly wasn't happening with Ginny).

The family reconvened for Christmas lunch, during which Harry made sure to seat himself between Ron and Charlie, so as to not make Ginny uncomfortable. Given that she was stuck next to Fleur, this didn't have the desired effect, although Harry could at least blame that on the lack of space in the Burrow's kitchen.

It was a wonderful meal, as was usual for Mrs Weasley's cooking, but Harry especially enjoyed the wizarding crackers, which were like muggle ones with better gifts inside. The meal finished with Harry wearing a sailor hat and a miniature toy broom, which skimmed up and down the table hovering a few inches over the plates.

Harry and Ron were just stretching their legs outside when a voice called over to them.

'Hello, Ronald.'

Luna was stood just over the boundary of the Burrow, with a wild-haired man that Harry assumed was her father.

Mr Weasley was talking to them, having just gone over their security questions. Mr Lovegood smiled vaguely at Harry and Ron, before following Mr Weasley into the Burrow. Luna walked up to Ron, smiling at him.

Harry patted Ron encouragingly on the shoulder, before walking back inside. Hopefully, Ron would have better luck with girls than Harry was currently having.

Ron and Luna left the Burrows wards, and walked down the country road towards the village, having decided that a walk together would do them both some good. Without thinking, Ron reached out and intertwined his fingers with Luna's.

'Did you like the present I sent you?' Luna enquired, tilting her head slightly, as if a little nervous.

'Y-yeah,' Ron stammered, feeling his ears burn. 'It was… amazing. I've never really had a present like that before.'

'I thought you might like a reminder that people know how good you are at Quidditch. For those moments when you doubt yourself.'

Luna squeezed his hand softly, careful not to press against his scars.

'T-thanks. I… I really appreciate it, Luna. Did… did you like what I got you?'

Luna smiled up at him.

'Yes, I did. I've never had a photo of all my friends before.'

'Well, you do now,' Ron said. 'I know it's not as good as what you got me, but-'

'It's perfect, Ronald,' Luna smiled. 'Really.'

The two smiled at each other.

By this point, they had reached the village. Ottery St Catchpole was a normal muggle village in Devon; rather sleepy, quiet and a little empty outside of the summer months (like much of the Tamar Valley, tourism was its main source of income). Most of the few shops were shut, and there was barely anyone about.

Ron did have his wand on him, just in case there were any death-eaters around. But, given the Weasleys were such a high-profile wizarding family, there were apparently aurors undercover in the village.

Outside the muggle church was a previously-dilapidated old telephone box, which had now been converted into a small lending library. Luna opened the door of the booth and peered inside.

'Hmmm… which book do you think I should borrow next, Ronald?'

'Er… I dunno,' Ron replied. 'What sort of books do you normally read?'

'Oh, I like anything that grips me-oh, perfect!'

Luna withdrew from the booth, holding a second-hand muggle book.

'I've read a few of this series,' Luna said, cheerfully, as she held up the book for Ron to see.

'"Mort"? Funny name for a novel…'

'Yes,' Luna said. 'But they're all very funny. Have you read the Discworld books?'

Ron shrugged.

'Don't really read much. Apart from Martin Miggs comics.'

'Oh, I love those!' Luna said, chuckling.

'Really?'

'Of course; they're very funny.'

Ron grinned. He didn't realise that they had that in common. After all, he did think Luna was a fun person to be around; perhaps they had a shared sense of humour.

'So… is this book funny, then?'

'Yes; how about I read you some of it while we walk back?'

'Er…sure.'

Luna smiled, before opening the book. Ron could make out an illustration of a long-limbed ginger person on the cover.

'"This is the Death whose particular sphere of operations is, well, not a sphere at all… but the Discworld, which is flat and rides on the back of four giant elephants-'

'Wait,' Ron said, his mouth falling open. 'It rides where?'

'"Four giant elephants, who stand on the shell of the enormous star turtle-"'

'Turtle?'

'Yes. Great A'Tuin.'

Ron grinned, as Luna continued to read aloud. No wonder she loved these books; they suited her down to the ground. Well, disc, anyway. Who'd have thought that a muggle author could have such a wild imagination?

It was no weirder than Ron's world, and that was saying something about a book where Death took an apprentice.

As they walked through the countryside back towards the Burrow, Luna finished reading, and put the book inside one of her coat pockets. It was still cold, but sunshine would peak through the clouds occasionally.

'So, what do you want to do after you leave Hogwarts?' Ron asked, casually. Well, he was trying to be casual about it, at the very least.

Luna hummed thoughtfully to herself.

'I suppose I'd like to travel and look for magical creatures. There's so many in the world that have never been studied properly.'

'You don't fancy staying in Britain and getting a normal job?'

'No; it wouldn't suit me. I like that, you know; being able to do what I enjoy. Not having to worry about things.'

'Wish I could do that,' Ron said.

'Well, why don't you?'

'Have you met my family? I'm constantly having to worry about everyone-else.'

'You mean Harry as well?'

'I guess,' Ron said. 'I mean, he's my best mate and I'll be there for him if I can. But…'

He trailed off. Luna nodded, thoughtfully.

'I suppose you're more grounded that I am, Ronald. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be there for your loved ones.'

'I know.'

'But you don't have to always do everything for them. What about after the war? You don't need to plan your life around your family.'

Ron thought for a moment. What… what did he want? He'd never really given it much thought. His siblings had always been going on about what they wanted to do, but he had never been sure. After all, his siblings were all such high-flyers, and he was… well, he was just Ron. The auror thing had seemed a good idea, but… well, maybe he had just wanted that because it was something impressive. After all, he didn't know whether he wanted to be constantly fighting dark wizards.

Luna had a point. After all, he was almost of age now; outside of maybe joining the aurors, what did he want out of life?

'I… I suppose I'd like to do something to help people, but also something I can call my own. Something I can do without people comparing me to the others?'

'That's very sensible,' Luna said. 'You're intelligent, Ronald; you can do anything you put your mind to.'

'Thanks. Well… I'd… I'd also like to start a family.'

'Have children, you mean?'

'Yeah. Not too many,' he added, quickly. 'I wouldn't want my kids to go through all the crap I have to, but… certainly at least two kids.'

'Hmmm.'

Luna trailed a finger through her hair, looking contemplative.

'Do… do you not want a family, then, Luna?'

'I don't at the moment. Maybe when I'm a lot older.'

They had reached the Burrow. After entering the wards, they saw through the window that Luna's father was in the Burrow's kitchen, talking to Ron's parents, having just presented them with some gifts.

Ron and Luna walked up to the front door. Ron bent down and kissed Luna on the cheek, causing them both to blush.

'Thanks for the walk, Ronald. Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas to you too, Luna,' Ron replied. 'Could… could you read me some more of those Disc-thingy books after we go back to Hogwarts?'

Luna nodded, smiling.

Ron stared after Luna as she and her father walked away beyond the Burrows wards, before disapparating to their house a few miles away. He was thinking a lot about what they had talked about, and how Luna wasn't interested in having a family, at least not for a long time.

They were teenagers, after all. They didn't need to worry about things like that.

But still. It was something to think about.

Hermione collected her trunk from the luggage compartment and set off down the platform.

It had been a very long and very lonely journey down to Kings Cross Station from Hogsmeade. She had been sat in her compartment by herself; she had half-hoped that maybe Neville would join her at some point, but no luck. Crookshanks, in a bad mood from being shut in his cage, wasn't much company.

Eventually, Hermione had given up on hoping someone would join her and had started reading a book. It was a sign of how miserable she felt that she repeatedly found herself re-reading the same page, having not taken in any of the words.

The platform was crowded with Hogwarts students, but no-one called out to her. A few worried first years skirted around her. Hermione was growing used to the fact that most of her fellow students seemed to regard her with the same attitude they might show towards a sentient unexploded bomb. She didn't like it, but she could understand why.

She passed through the barrier into the muggle station. Sure enough, her parents were stood a few feet away, both wearing thick winter coats.

'Hello, Hermione,' her father said, hoisting her trunk and Crookshanks' cage onto the trolley stood nearby. 'We're parked a little while away.'

'Right.'

Both Mr and Mrs Granger kept silent as they walked through the station, and Hermione took the hint. Her parents had never been overtly loud people, but this was unusual even for them.

The car ride back to Hampstead was silent as well. Hermione sat in the back, watching the rainy London streets through her window as they drove along. Crookshanks meowed irritably on the seat next to her, still not impressed with being stuck in his cage for so long.

After arriving home, Mr Granger hailed Hermione's trunk upstairs to her room. Hermione followed him, carrying Crookshanks cage in her arms.

'I'll leave you to get your things sorted, then,' Mr Granger said, his tone level. 'Dinner will be about six.'

'Okay.'

The door closed behind him.

Hermione sat Crookshanks cage down on the floor and undid the clasp. The ginger cat crawled out, shot across the floor, and promptly hid under Hermione's bed.

She began to unpack her things. Considering that Hermione wouldn't be home that long, she hadn't taken much with her; a few books for her homework, a couple of changes of clothes, and her wand. The vine wood felt strangely detached as she held it.

She remembered when she had first bought it in Diagon Alley. The last five years had changed her so much; she felt so removed from the buck-toothed little girl that had first walked through the Leaky Cauldron that it almost felt like it was another person.

The eleven-year-old her was another person. One who still the world as ordered and right. One who saw teachers as the ultimate symbol of authority and fairness. One who had no friends.

Maybe some things didn't change.

At 6pm, Hermione left her room and went downstairs. The dining table was laid with cutlery, and she could hear the sounds of her parents moving plates around in the kitchen.

She sat down as her parents began to bring through the food. On the brief occasion before her fourth year when Mr Weasley had picked her up by floo powder, he had referred to the Granger's dining table as "very spacious". Hermione hadn't known what to make of that at the time, but now she felt it was very appropriate. Her own seat, in the middle of the table, felt very lonely, especially with her parents sat on opposite ends of the table.

The meal was beef stew, with potatoes and vegetables. It was warm, and somewhat comforting, despite the tension in the room.

Hermione finished eating, and laid her knife and fork together on the plate.

'Would you like any desert, Hermione?'

Mr Granger was staring at her from his end of the table, his bushy hair (so much like her own) sticking out in all directions.

'No, thank you.'

Hermione saw her father's eyes flick worryingly towards her mother. Mrs Granger took out a letter from her pocket and placed it on the table. The Hogwarts crest, plus Professor McGonagall's handwriting, was clearly visible.

Hermione counted the seconds in her head, waiting for the inevitable. 1…2…3…

'I thought we raised you better than that.'

Mrs Granger's voice was dripping with disappointment.

'Jean…' Mr Granger warned. He always had been the peacemaker between Hermione and her mother, whose personalities were a little too similar in many ways.

'No, Mark, I won't just let this slide,' Mrs Granger said, before addressing Hermione again. 'What did Professor McGonagall tell you, when she first met with us about you going to learn magic?'

'That it was a privilege to be used to help people,' Hermione said, quietly.

'Exactly. Now, I thought that was understood. You've always been good at remembering things. So you imagine my shock when a letter arrived saying that-'

'Jean…'

'That my daughter had physically attacked her best friend with magic!' Mrs Granger continued, her voice rising in volume. 'Can you understand why that shocked me, Hermione?'

'Yes.'

Hermione's voice was very quiet, barely above a whisper. But in the half-empty dining room, it didn't need to be loud to be heard.

'You do? You see why I didn't understand why my daughter -a school prefect- would do such a thing?'

Hermione nodded.

'I'm sorry.'

'I'm not the one you need to apologise to!' Mrs Granger said. 'You've been friends with Ron since your first year; how could you do this to him?'

Hermione didn't respond.

'I understand teenagers can get heated on some occasions, but this? According to Professor McGonagall, you've left lasting scars on Ron; is that correct?'

Hermione nodded.

Mrs Granger drummed her fingers on the table.

'Are you at least sorry about it?'

Hermione looked up, shocked.

'How can you possibly-'

'Because I'm re-evaluating whether my own daughter has any moral code whatsoever! I never thought I'd say this, but I don't trust you on this, Hermione!'

'Jean, Hermione knows she's done wrong,' Mr Granger said, before turning to his daughter. 'Hermione, maybe you should use the holiday period to reflect on things.'

Hermione took one last glance at her mother, who looked down angrily at her own plate, before nodding.

She got up from her seat and left the room. The door closed silently behind her.

Hermione walked upstairs. Shutting her bedroom door behind her, she sat at her desk. She wasn't planning on writing anything, but it felt better than lying listlessly on the bed.

There was a photo on the wall, taken shortly at the Burrow shortly before the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione remembered that summer well; the last summer of calm before Voldemort's return. The photo was of herself, Ron, Ginny, and Harry. The other three had just finished flying in the orchard, and Ron had insisted that Hermione join them while they cooled their feet in the pond.

Charlie happened to have a camera nearby and had taken a photo. It showed the four teenagers relaxing on the grass, Ron's eyes shut as he laughed at something.

It wasn't a wizarding photo, but Hermione did like it nonetheless.

At least, she used to. Now, all it did was remind her of what she had thrown away; her friendships with Ron, Ginny and Harry lay in tatters around her. If the photo had been a wizarding one, she knew the representation of her would be stood far away from the others, looking sadly at her feet.

She had never really considered just how much she relied on Ron to stand up to her when she was doing something ethically unsound. Just like with S.P.E.W, she had refused to even acknowledge there was something… misplaced about her actions until Ron had spoken up. While many of the house-elves clearly were being mistreated, she hadn't bothered to listen to the concerns of the house-elves themselves and had instead assumed she knew what was best for them.

Hermione swallowed, grimly. She ought to have realised this years ago. A lifetime of being told how brilliant she was by teachers and authority figures had prevented her from realising that she couldn't just assume she was right about everything. She needed to be better than this; it was human nature to learn, and she was all about learning.

But this wasn't something she could just learn out of a book and score highly on a test. She had to do this properly. By looking at her own actions and learning to change her behaviour for the better.

Hermione needed to strengthen her own moral code. It shouldn't be informed by whether or not she felt she was right about something, but how her actions could affect others.

Her mind set, she took out a journal from the desk drawer and began to write.

There was a knock on Ginny's door.

'Yeah?' Ginny said, looking up from a copy of Quidditch Monthly that she'd borrowed off Ron.

The door opened, and the twins stepped through.

'Oh, it's you two,' she said.

'Expecting someone-else?' Fred asked, knowingly. 'You know, Georgie, I could have sworn I saw Harry trying to avoid looking at dear Ginny during lunch.'

'What do you two want?' Ginny asked, loudly, hating the blush she could feel creeping up the back of her neck. 'Or are you just using the holidays to make up for not annoying me since you moved out?'

'Harsh!' Fred said, putting a hand to his chest in mock pain. 'Can you believe what she'd saying-'

'Fred, cut it out,' George said, elbowing his twin softly in the ribs. 'Usually, people aren't willing to tell you stuff if you're a git beforehand.'

'Tell you what exactly?' Ginny said, slowly. Fred had the grace to look bashful.

'Well… it's… it's about Ron,' George said, carefully. 'We… we saw mum putting a glamour charm on his arms the other day.'

Ginny sighed. She had been expecting this.

'It's really his own business. The only reason I know is because I demanded he and Harry tell me.'

'So you do know?'

'Yes. But I'm not telling you; it's Ron's private business. I'm not gonna be going around telling anyone who asks.'

'We're his family too!' George exclaimed.

'Oh, like you wouldn't use it to poke fun at him,' Ginny shot back. 'Last year, the two of you didn't even try and stop the Slytherins jeering at him!'

'It was just a song!' Fred said, shocked. 'It couldn't have been that b-'

Ginny stormed forward and grabbed Fred by the front of his t-shirt. Despite her small stature, she was still strong enough to make Fred go on tip-toes to correct his balance.

'Don't you bloody dare say it wasn't that bad,' Ginny snarled, her face murderous. 'You have no idea what it's like; having the entire school think so low of you…'

Fred's panicked eyes looked to George, who only mirrored his shock. Ginny rarely spoke about… that. About what had happened in her first year.

Ginny let go of Fred, and pushed past him, slamming the door behind her. She stormed down the staircase, jumping the last few steps, and hurried through the house. She caught a glimpse of Harry, who had looked up, midway through a chess match with Bill. His eyes were wide; he had clearly heard everything she had said.

Feeling her eyes burn with embarrassment, Ginny headed to the back door, grabbing her winter coat as she went. Her welly boots were laid haphazardly over the mat.

Jamming the boots on quickly, she went out into the garden, and headed for the orchard. It was a chilly afternoon, but her anger kept her warm.

She aimed a kick at a passing gnome, who went soaring several feet into the air, swearing at the top of its voice. It sounded just as angry as Ginny felt.

Reaching the orchard, Ginny moved through the trees, and sat down on the bench nearby the Christmas lights, wrapping her arms around her in frustration. The twins didn't understand.

Ron had been there for her when she'd needed him, and she was damned if she wasn't going to be there for him when he needed her. Siblings looked out for each other, and especially so for Ron and Ginny. They'd been the babies of the family, after all; they'd always grouped together. A lot of the time, it seemed like they were the only ones who understood each other.

It certainly felt like that now.

Ginny scuffed the ground with her boots.

'Ginny?'

She looked up. Harry was walking towards her, holding two mugs of hot chocolate.

'Thanks,' Ginny said, taking one as he sat down next to her. 'Sorry; I just…'

Harry shook his head.

'You've all got a lot going on; no need to apologise.'

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while. The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon already, leaving long shadows under the trees.

'So… back to Hogwarts soon, then?'

Harry was clearly trying to take Ginny's mind off of everything he had overheard. Which she appreciated; she hated being reminded of all that had happened when she was a little first-year. Especially since Harry had seen her at her most vulnerable. Sure, she wasn't that scared little kid anymore, but… still.

It was Harry, after all. Things were… different with him. Always had been. And now… things had changed so much. In more ways than she felt comfortable thinking about. She had once had a crush on him, but now she was his friend. Besides, she had a boyfriend. Dean was a good bloke. And yet… and yet…

'Yeah,' Ginny replied, miserably. 'It'll be nice to see my other friends again, but…'

'It's gonna bring everything back, isn't it?'

Ginny nodded, placing her now empty mug on the floor.

'We can't just keep acting like it didn't happen.'

'We… we just have to work things out.'

'What… what if it's too complicated to work out?'

Harry stared at her, not sure if they were still talking about the situation between Ron and Hermione.

'We'll do it. We're always been able to muddle through in the past.'

Ginny smiled at him. The two of them stared across the Burrow's garden. The Devon countryside was peaceful, and they could hear the sounds of robins chirping in the trees around them.

With a shock, Harry realised that Ginny had leaned against him, her head resting softly against his shoulder. His nose filled with her flowery scent.

'Thanks for being here, Harry.'

'No problem.'

'You're… you're a good friend.'

Harry swallowed.

'So are you, Ginny.'

The two of them didn't speak for a while, simply letting the moment linger. Harry could feel his heart beating against his chest. Ginny's hair was trailing down his side, and he could feel her breathing a few inches away from him.

In that moment, it really hit him just how much he liked her. And it terrified him.

But… he didn't mind that.

'Not interrupting again, am I?'

Harry and Ginny jerked apart. Ron was standing a few away, having just arrived back at the Burrow. His face was flushed slightly from his walk to and from the village.

'N-no!' Ginny exclaimed, hurriedly jumping to her feet. 'Thanks for the hot chocolate and sympathy, Harry.'

And, with that, she hurried off towards the Burrow. If Harry had known that the back of Ginny's neck was currently flushed red, he probably would have been very confused. But, as he didn't, he had to settle for looking flustered instead.

'Sorry, mate,' Ron said, sitting down next to Harry. 'I should've just gone indoors and let you two alone.'

Harry shrugged. He didn't understand what was going on between himself and Ginny. It was probably for the best that Ron had arrived when he did; Ginny had a boyfriend, after all. The last thing Harry wanted to do was make things complicated for Ginny.

'How did your walk with Luna go?' he asked, desperate to move the conversation onto something that he didn't involve his complicated feelings for Ron's little sister.

'Pretty good, actually,' Ron said, staring across the orchard. 'We talked about stuff, she read me the book she borrowed from that muggle telephone booth… mate?'

'Yeah, Ron?'

'What do you think you'll do? You know, in the future?'

'I'm guessing you don't mean hunting down Voldemort?'

'After that, Harry.'

'Will there be an after?'

'Course,' Ron said, matter-of-factly. 'You thought about it much? You said about the aurors last year…'

'Oh, yeah. I dunno… I guess… I guess I just want to make sure no kid ever has to go through what I've been going through.'

'You're so noble,' Ron said, elbowing Harry softly in the ribs. 'The aurors are for you, then?'

'I guess. Why? Do you not want to?'

'I mean, I certainly want to stop dark wizards running wild, but… well, I can't imagine doing that all my life. Constantly looking over my shoulder for hexes, never trusting anyone new… I don't want to end up like Mad-Eye.'

Harry nodded.

'So, what do you want, Ron?'

'I… well, I've been thinking. I'd hate to have people compare me to my brothers all my life, so maybe something none of them have ever done.'

'Like what?'

'I dunno. But I want to find out.'

'Maybe talk to McGonagall about it?'

Ron nodded.

'Harry?'

'Yeah, mate?'

'Thanks.'

'For what?'

'Just… thanks.'

Harry stared, feeling very confused.

'No problem, mate.'

It was New Years Eve. The Weasleys, plus Harry and Fleur, were all assembled in the Burrow's kitchen, waiting to watch the New Years fireworks over Ottery St Catchpole. The kitchen windows had been magically widened for the event, and several panes of the glass had been magically removed.

The last few days had been very… odd. Percy's arrival on Christmas evening, and Harry's subsequent meeting with the Minister for Magic, had put a damper on things. Mrs Weasley had been in a teary mood for days, despite their efforts to cheer her up. Fleur had stopped flirting with Bill out of respect for the heightened emotions that Percy's recent departure had brought back into focus.

Ron was just passing Harry a glass of butterbeer when Charlie tapped him on the shoulder.

'Ron… someone's here to see you.'

Ron poked his head out the window.

Luna and her father were standing just outside the Burrows wards.

They exchanged security questions with Mr Weasley, and then the Lovegoods were let into the wards. Bill smiled knowingly at Ron as he opened the front door.

'Er… hi, Luna,' Ron said, aware that his assembled siblings were all looking at them. 'Would… would you like a glass of butterbeer?'

Luna nodded, shyly.

'Ron; go and show Luna the orchard,' Mrs Weasley said, smiling, as Luna took the bottle from Ron. 'She hasn't seen the decorations we have up.'

'Is that okay? But it's almost midnight-'

Mrs Weasley gently pushed Ron and Luna by the shoulders out of the back door. Mr Lovegood was passed a butterbeer by Charlie, smiling to himself.

'I was young once, Ronnie,' Mrs Weasley grinned. 'You two youngsters have some time to yourselves.'

Ron felt his ears redden, as the back door shut.

He looked round at Luna, whose cheeks had gone a little pink, although maybe that was just the cold.

'The orchards this way. It's a bit dark; can I hold your hand, so you don't get lost?'

Luna nodded, smiling shyly.

Feeling her soft fingers against his, Ron led the two of them through the garden, away from the Burrow's bright lights. He did not dare to look back. Like anyone with a lot of siblings, Ron had a knack for knowing when all of them were staring after him, looking for something to tease him about later. If he had turned, he would have likely seen several redheaded faces peeking out of the kitchen windows.

The lights in the orchard looked pretty good, in Ron's opinion; they were more of a warm blue compared to the ones his father had put up for Christmas. The twins had skived out of it, so he and Harry had ended up putting them up, with the help of Bill.

'Oooh, they look so lovely!' Luna chirped, squeezing Ron's hand.

Ron smiled.

'Luna?'

'How… how are we going to deal with all this? I mean, we want different things. I want to have kids and you don't and…'

Luna squeezed his hand again.

'Ronald, we don't have to worry about it. Let's just enjoy things for as long as they last.'

'But… but what if they end badly?'

'If you feel that things aren't working properly, you just need to tell me,' she replied. 'You're a kind person, Ronald; I know you'd beat yourself up worrying about hurting my feelings. So don't drag things out. We can let things happen in their own time.'

'You're… you're sure?'

Luna nodded.

'You spent so much time worrying about what the future may bring. Maybe you need to focus more on the here-and-now; you can't enjoy life if you're constantly worrying about it.'

'I'll… I'll try.'

Luna smiled up at him, her dirty-blonde hair framing her face in the soft blue lights.

'I'd still rather be your girlfriend than your friend at the moment.'

'I like being your boyfriend, Luna.'

There were some cheers from the Burrow; midnight had presumably just struck. In the distance, muggle fireworks erupted into the sky above Ottery St Catchpole.

Ron stared to Luna. In the glow of the lights, she looked… magical. There really was no other way to describe her.

'Happy New Year, Luna.'

Ron leaned down and pressed his lips tentatively to hers. He felt Luna's mouth curve into a smile as she kissed him back.

As Ron pulled away, he could see himself reflected by way of fireworks in Luna's grey eyes.

'Happy New Year, Ronald.'