A bit angsty, set during DH1, Harry's 17th birthday

Prompt - "You know you're my favourite, right?

"I better be."

Harry always thought of the Burrow as the coolest place ever, even with all the chaos and loudness. He never would have thought the chaos could get worse than the days and weeks he spent there in his fourth year and sixth year, but seeing the Burrow in pre-wedding mode, well, he was happy to escape the house with Ron and Hermione as often as they could, even if it meant they were planning to leave one of his favourite places ever.

Which was why he felt so bad when, the night before the wedding, he found that he, himself, was the focus of dinner. Nobody was really in a celebratory mood, not with George having lost an ear, and Mad Eye Moody dead, along with his beloved Hedwig.

Again, more and more people dead or hurt in their endeavour to protect him as they helped him to leave the Dursley's house.

He tried to protest that it was the night before the wedding and he didn't want to cause any more work, but it was Ginny's plea that won him over.

"Please, let us do this for you, Harry," she said softly, from behind him.

He turned, shielding her from the other's sight, for it wasn't that long ago he had promised Ron he would leave her alone. After that wonderful birthday kiss...

He looked at her questioningly and she sighed.

"We know the three of you are planning to leave soon after the wedding...please, let us have one more normal night. If not for me, for Mum, at least," she pleaded.

He swallowed and nodded. She smiled sadly.

" Thank you."

She moved past him and into the kitchen to help her mum with dinner; Hermione joined them and the two girls whispered together.

Molly had outdone herself, even the Delacours looked impressed, and the icing on the cake, literally, was a Snitch shaped cake for pudding.

"Aw, that's cos he's mum's favourite," teased Fred, when he saw the cake.

"You mean it's not for me? I'm a Seeker too!" Charlie pretended to be hurt but winked at Harry to show no hard feelings.

"Who's your favourite Weasley, Harry?" asked Bill, eyes twinkling knowingly.

" Are you mental? He's my best friend, has been since we were eleven," Ron reminded them. " Of course it's me."

" I dunno, Ron, you don't make him a treacle tart like mum does. Maybe she's his favourite," taunted Fred.

Harry looked down at the watch on his arm; a gift from the elder Weasleys. Molly had apolgetically told him it was dented in the back, that it wasn't new, but had belonged to her brother. He had stood and hugged her, trying to impart in a simple hug how thankful he was for everything she had ever done for him.

"Maybe it's Ginny?" suggested Charlie, and Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice. Hermione patted his back in sympathy.

"Ginny?" asked Ron, eyes wide as he looked between his best mate and his sister, a frown appearing on his forehead as he remembered the conversation he and Harry had had earlier in the day.

Ginny batted her eyes at him and he threw a dinner roll at her, which, being the Chaser she was, she immediately caught, cut up and buttered, to her family's laughter.

"Thanks Ron, just what I wanted," she smirked. " Of course I'm Harry's favourite, I mean, after you lot, I'm the only normal one. Must make a nice change to hang out with me at Quidditch practice," she quipped, shooting him a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back, remembering how much fun they'd had at Quudditch practice before and after that epic kiss in the common room.

" It has to be us," said George, gesturing to him and Fred. " We gave him the Marauder's map in his third year!"

"I don't think so," said Arthur, joining the fun and interrupting Harry's thoughts. "It must be me, after all, he and Ron flew my enchanted car to Hogwarts from London!" He grinned at his son and Harry as Molly began a tirade on why that was such a bad idea at the time.

" Come on, Harry, tell us," begged the Weasley's. Hermione giggled and Remus smiled, happy to see Harry being treated normally, not as if the fate of their world lied on his thin shoulders.

"Well..." Harry glanced around at everyone in the room; Weasleys, Hagrid, Remus and Tonks and the Delacours. " You've got me. I can't pick a favourite," he said, somewhat truthfully. "I think I just like all Weasleys."

"Here, here," toasted Hagrid, " there's none better than a Weasley, am I right?"

"To ze Weasley's," agreed Fleur, and they all raised their glasses.

For the next hour or so, the impending war, the wedding and their plans to leave soon were forgotten, as they simply enjoyed a birthday meal, laughed over stories, danced to the wireless and teased one another as they finished the night playing charades.

It was a happy Harry that followed Hermione and Ron up the stairs. They said goodnight to Hermione who went into Ginny's room on the first floor.

As they began to ascend the stairs to continue up to Ron's room, Harry told Ron he was just going to use the loo.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry turned to see what Ron wanted.

"I'm your favourite Weasley, aren't I?" he asked, trying not to sound uncertain.

Harry nodded but couldn't meet Ron's eyes. " I'm just going to, er..." He pointed to the toilet door.

Ron smiled in relief. "Right, of course. I'll see you up there. Big day tomorrow!"

Harry finished his ablutions and opened the door, nearly stumbling right into Ginny, dressed in her pyjamas and dressing gown.

" Can I tie your shoelace?" she asked.

"What? Why would I want you to do that?" he asked, looking down. They were both tied perfectly.

"Ha, made you look," she teased. " So...Ron's your favourite Weasley, is he?"

'Damn, she'd overheard the conversation!'

"Favourite male Weasley," he corrected.

"Ah, so, favourite female?" she asked, an eyebrow arched and smiling.

"Has to be your mum, of course," he teased, but then felt bad when her smile faltered.

"Ginny..." He couldn't help himself, he took a step forward, wishing with everything in him that he could rush forward and sweep her in his arms and never let her go.

"You know you're my absolute favourite Weasley, right?" he asked softly.

"I better be," she replied softly, and dared to stand on tiptoes to press her lips against his lightly for the briefest second.

"I kiss much better than Ron," she whispered, before slipping around him and going into the bathroom.

The memory of that night, of the two kisses he'd shared with her, lifted his spirits when times were tough on the Horcrux hunt.

And when he had to make the hardest choice, when he stood there, ready to die, he closed his eyes and remembered her blazing look and the feel of her lips on his.