AN: Sorry for the delay in posting, but I'd rather not fail any of my classes this semester, and I'm well on my way to doing so anyway. The plot has sort of veered off from where I originally intended it to go; it's still getting there, but the path it's decided to take is a bit circumvent so the story might end up being longer than I want it to be.

As usual, I don't own anything, not even the computer upon which this is being typed.

Thanks to all those who read chapter one and deigned to review.

Chapter 2: Dinner: Party!

Harry entered the kitchen for dinner hours later to find Ron's mood not greatly improved. Mrs. Weasley had laid the table like a Hogwarts feast despite the fact that Christmas was still two days away. Various members of the Order were present though McGonnagal, Snape, Hagrid, and Dumbledor hadn't been able to come because of the students still at Hogwarts. But all the Weasleys were present and accounted for with the obvious exception of Percy who, though mostly forgiven for being a prodigiously pompous prat, hadn't been fully accepted back into the fold, didn't even know about the Order, and who was, in any case, probably working. Tonks sat in all her neon glory between Bill and Charley. The Twins were flanked by Moody and Mundungus Fletcher. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were next to Kingsly. Ron, Ginny, and Hermoine were saving Harry a seat.

No one was talking. They were all either looking at him expectantly or studiously not looking at him. The only exception being Ron who stared him straight in the eye in open challenge. Since He wasn't there, and because Harry had no desire to have holly-jolly nor anything else shoved down his throat, he opted for civility. "Hi, everyone," is all he said, but it was more unprompted conversation than he'd managed in the house since last Christmas, and it made an impression.

"Hi, Harry," Ron replied with a smug grin. "How ya doin'?" The look on Ron's face told Harry he had better be just-fine-and-thank-you-so-much-for-asking or there'd be dire consequences.

"I'm great," he forced, not taking his eyes off Ron. "I'm not at the Dursley's, I've finished most of my homework for the break, and it's nearly Christmas. There really isn't much to complain about." Harry was surprised at how easy it was to find something positive about his live with the threat of bodily harm looming about. He was sure he didn't really fool anyone, but still they all noticeably relaxed.

Hermione gave him a reassuring smile—the first real smile, Harry noticed, that she'd produced over the break—until something occurred to her and she turned to Ron. "That reminds me, Ron, have you gotten any work done?"

Ron sniffed at her accusatory tone and said, "Honestly Hermione, do you ever think of anything else? There's loads of time before we have to be back at school. There's no need to worry about all that until at least Boxing Day."

As he settled in next to Ginny, and Ron and Hermione began to bicker about the importance of not procrastinating, Harry realized that Ron had not answered Hermione's question. Furthermore, Ron himself had informed him that his homework was completed not three hours ago. He mentioned this peculiarity to Ginny and she grinned broadly.

"I know," she told him. "We both finished yesterday while you were sulking and Hermione was helping Mum cook. He even gave me some great pointers as to what I should study for the OWL's."

Harry tried to ignore the annoyance he felt at Ginny saying he was sulking in favor of getting his answer, so he didn't say anything about that. "If that's true, why didn't he just say so? Hermoine wouldn't have anything to complain about if he had."

Ginny gave Harry a look that he couldn't quite read but which was an eerie combination of Hermione's "Well it's obvious, isn't it?" look, Ron's "Huh?" look, and Fred and George when they're up to something particularly dastardly. Then she grinned, all Ginny. "You're worse than Ron; you really are."

"And you're worse than Hermione," he replied irritated. "Honestly, the two of you could, just now and then, give a straight answer instead of making half-insulting observations that make absolutely no sense."

Rather than earning him the frank answer he demanded, Harry's little outburst sent Ginny into a fit of giggles that sounded distinctly mocking and a bit pitying to Harry. After her laughter subsided, Ginny asked Harry, "Does it really bother you so much when they bicker?"

"Of course it does! Doesn't it bother you?"

"No," she replied shrugging, "should it?"

This seemingly simple question developed into a full-blown debate which ran the course of dinner and that Harry was shocked later to discover he genuinely enjoyed despite Ginny's ineffable replies and enigmatic little smiles. While they debated, Ron and Hermione bickered, their vein of conversation wandering off the importance of homework to responsibility in general to the disastrously distracting influence of Quiditch and Exploding Snap to procrastination in general and "Really Ron, NEWT's are only a year and a half away if you really think about it" all the way back to the importance of homework.

Both of these discussions went a long way to improve the mood of the assembled, and soon the entire room was a cacophony of conversation. Tonks began regaling the two eldest Weasleys with one of her more recent misadventures. The twins began haggling with Mundungus for some less-than-legal artifact that they simply had to have for their latest innovation in misbehaving while Professor Moody looked on with surprising approval. Mr. and were too busy engaged in debate with Kingsley about the practice of Muggle medicine to notice.

Over all, dinner went fairly well even if Harry didn't manage to get much out of Ginny. He was surprised mid-way through demanding to know what was so great about two good friends constantly at each other's throats to note that he was actually enjoying talking to Ginny. It wasn't that he'd thought she was dull or anything; it was more like wit hone thing and another, he never really got around to thinking about her at all. He was ashamed to realize that, on the whole, he thought about a number of people he didn't even like—Malfoy and Snape for example—more in one week that he'd bothered to think about Ginny Weasley in the six years since they'd met.

He mentioned this very fact to her as the two of them began clearing the dishes away and cleaning up the kitchen—they'd drawn the short straws. To his amazement, Ginny didn't seem to be offended. "That's all that surprising, Harry. I mean, how often do you suppose I really think about Denis Creevy?"

The analogy shocked Harry. "But you aren't a pest," he protested.

"Neither is Denis. To tell the truth, he's one of the nicer people I know," she replied. "I just don't think about him much."

Ginny seemed to think this was all there was to say on the subject and bent to wipe the magically elongated table with a dish rag. Harry, however, was still bothered. "But, you are a really important person!" Ginny put her rag down, placed a hand on her hip and cocked her head at Harry waiting for him to explain. "You're my best friend's little sister, my other best friend's best friend, and a member of a family that has practically adopted me, and I spend most of my time ignoring you! I spent all of my second year ignoring you, and it nearly got you killed! And. . . and. . . why are you laughing at me?! This isn't funny!" he finished irritably.

Ginny ignored his indignation and just laughed all the harder when he demanded to know what the hell was so damned amusing. She sat down on the edge of the dining table and laughed with great crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks for a full three minutes. When her laughter subsided a little and he again asked what she found so funny, she answered brushing tears from her eyes. "You, Harry Potter. You are what I find so funny. You who don't want Ron and Hermione to bicker because they're such good friends but while in the middle of a blood feud with one of the few people who really loves you. You who are so obstinately opposed to being made to bear the burden of dozens of wizards all by yourself but refuses to share that burden with those that would take it on with you. And you, Harry Potter, who has to juggle growing up and all the trials that entails with the insanities of war, the absence of familiar support, and the rancor of the most powerfully evil wizard in history but feels guilty that he can't remember one person in all that confusion—who, by the way is more than capable of taking care of herself and has too many people looking out for her as it is, thank-you-very-much. You are a very funny person, Harry Potter." And she went back to wiping off the table.

Harry worked on the dishes for a while muling over what she said in silence. When he finally spoke, all he got out was "But. . ." before Ginny cut in. "You aren't Merlin, Harry. You aren't the Minister of Magic. You're not even Dumbledore. You're just Harry. Sure you're saddled with a lot of crap that has a lot of higher implications, but at the end of the day, you're just Harry, a sixteen-year-old kid trying to make it to seventeen as quick as he can. You can't be expected to save the world and every individual in it all by your lonesome. Give yourself a break." She picked up her broom, having long since finished wiping off the table, stove, and all the counters, and started sweeping again. "And finish those dishes, you've been washing that one plate for the past five minutes."

And that's it for chapter two. Sorry if you were expecting it to be longer; I did too, but that's all there is. Hopefully, I'll post more before the Christmas Holidays in the real world, but it's not likely—I've got finals coming up.