It is their second Christmas without Ginny.
Harry struggles to believe that his lovely, stubborn, vivacious, brave wife has been gone for so long.
He knows better than anyone that people lie.
The pain hasn't dulled, nothing has gotten any easier, he still misses his wife, his friend with a longing, that without James to anchor him to the world, Harry is sure he might die.
He sits on the crammed little sofa in The Burrow, balancing his young son James, on his knee.
Harry feels outside of the laughter and chatter of the happy house.
But he smiles, because The Weasley's are his family, because James seems to overwhelmed and excited, and because Ginny was their daughter too.
"Harry," Instinctively, he glances up at the mention of his name.
The latest addition to The Weasley Clan, Angelina.
Harry is staggered slightly to think that he'd only attended George and Angelina's wedding that summer, how has four months escaped him so completely?
"Angelina?" He stares up at her, remembering to smile, but she hardly seems to notice her attention fixed on the giggle toddler on his knee.
Harry has noticed his son seems to have an almost magnet effect on the opposite sex.
"Can I, can I hold James?" Angelina asks, her slender alms already reaching out for James.
There had been a time, just after Ginny had, after Ginny was gone, that Harry couldn't bare the thought of anyone touching his son without his permission.
James was his last link to his wife, to the life he'd thought they'd share.
It was Mrs Weasley who had put him straight, she'd told him in no uncertain terms that if he continued the way he had been, running himself ragged to care for his young son, James would probably end up an orphan before the year was up.
It had been a shock to the system, Harry had been confronted with a bluntness, he hadn't known Mrs Weasley possessed.
"Of course," He raises himself up from the sofa, lifting his son gently into Angelina's arms.
"..he is, after all you're nephew now." The smile Harry gives her now is a genuine one, he'd always liked Angelina at school, not just because she was a fantastic Chaser and a great Captain, but also because she had always been able to easily handle The Weasley Twins with a sort of down-to-earth, casual charm, he'd admired.
If anyone could rescue George from the terminal decline he'd spiralled into since Fred's death, it would be Angelina.
"Oh, I forgot that." An excitable giggle escapes her lips, as she tightens her grasp around James, who look entirely at ease in the comfort of yet another beautiful woman's arms.
Leaving his son in the company of Angelina, Harry decides to stretch his legs.
The Burrow is stocked to capacity, no-one seems to notice as he makes his way across the crowded room, cluttered floor.
He pauses to glance over his shoulder, George has now gravitated towards James and Angelina.
Despite the fact that The Burrow is almost bursting at the seams, there are two notable absences, that Harry feels the weight of.
Hermione.
This year Hermione has decided to spend Christmas with her parents.
Somehow even thinking briefly about Hermione while surrounded by The Weasley's in the place where Ginny grew up, makes Harry feel unbelievably guilty.
All the colour had washed out of his life after Ginny's accident, James had remained the only bright spark in a twisting, swirling sea of greys.
Locked in his unhappy world, Harry had never expected to feel the love he'd felt for Ginny, and in a way he doesn't.
He's in love with Hermione, that much he's sure of, but it's different.
Ginny had been exciting and daring, she'd set Harry's heart pacing wildly whenever he was with her. And it had felt as if he'd been living in the rays on an eternal summer.
The best sort of magic.
With Hermione, Harry feels comfortable, as if he's coming home from a long journey.
He wishes she was here with him now, but he understand her reluctance.
The other face, which is absent from the Christmas Party belongs to Ronald Weasley.
George and Angelina's Wedding had been the first time Harry had properly spoken to his best friend in what had felt like years.
It had been years.
He'd always feared what might happen if one terrible day, Ron and Hermione ever ended their relationship, when it eventually happened it was worse that Harry had ever expected.
A frosty coldness seems to have settled between Ron and Hermione permanently.
Harry knows with a sinking certainty, that he'll probably lose the last of his tentative friendship with Ron, if he ever finds out about his relationship with Hermione.
The Wedding reminded Harry of how much he really missed his best mate.
Their lives seemed to be splintering in different directions ever since Ginny's death.
He lifts his glasses from the bridge of his nose, cleaning the lenses with the corner of his shirt.
From the other room he hears a sudden commotion, Mrs Weasley's voice raised in excitement.
A shout follows.
Ron!
Quickly replacing his glasses, Harry steps back into the room, keen to see his friend.
Ron stands on the threshold of the kitchen door, snow clinging to his hair and the tops of his shoulders, weighed down by what looks like a bag of Christmas presents and Mrs Weasley, who is attached to his chest.
Harry smiles again.
Ron catches his eye, returning the smile.
"Mum alright, let me get through the door will you." Ron pleads with his Mother, laughter flooding the room.
Harry joins in.
"Mum please," Ron fidgets, his face quickly turning red.
"...Nance is freezing to death." He exclaims, and from behind Ron, Harry sees the woman who Fleur had discribe as 'zats the muggle' still standing outside in the snow, shivering.
He hadn't really paid that much attention to Ron's guest at the wedding, because since his post break-up with Hermione, he'd enjoyed a never ending parade of girlfriends.
Harry hadn't fancied the idea of having to learn yet another name, only for the girl to be replaced by the time of the next big family gathering.
But clearly he should have, since this girl has managed to break some sort of record.
"Hello Nancy! It's Arthur, Arthur Weasley. We met at Geroge's wedding." Mr Weasley pulls Ron's girlfriend excitedly into the warmth of The Burrow, shaking her hand with enthusiasm, clearly delighted to have a fully fledged, paid-up member of the Muggle community under his roof.
Mr Weasley quickly leads Ron's girlfriend away from the rest of the group, discussing animatedly the finer points of how exactly muggle planes stay in the air, and what a exactly a frappuccino is.
Harry hangs back until the crowd around Ron has thinned.
"Hello mate." Ron beams at him, looking more like his old self than ever.
Without giving it any thought, Harry hugs his best friend tightly, enlisting a blimey from Ron for his trouble.
"I've missed you."