Chapter Two

Christmas Eve dawned bright and sunny. The moisture in the air made sparkling crystals, like diamonds in the air, that reflected the sun, proving that outside the warm walls of the Burrow, everything was frightfully cold.

Molly was, as usual, in the kitchen. Harry stumbled in, leaving Ron still snoring, at shortly after eight, and she smiled happily at him.

"Harry, love, good morning."

"Good morning, Mrs Weasley," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"You slept well, love?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

Harry missed the look she shot him, but Ginny, sitting at the table did not.

"Morning, Harry," Ginny stood, taking a tea cup down from the cupboard and pouring him a cup. "Come sit. I'll get your breakfast."

"It's okay, Gin," he said, yawning again. "I can..."

"Don't be silly, Harry," she said softly. "I can get you your breakfast. I would imagine I can even do it without poisoning you."

"I..." Harry flushed. "I didn't mean you..."

"Harry," she laid a hand on his shoulder as she passed, causing an electric jolt to run down his arm, and through the rest of him. "Relax."

He turned rather panicked eyes up at her, but she was already moving towards the stove. Harry turned, seeing Bill standing in the doorway looking at him, his eyebrows high.

Harry flushed again, finding it difficult to swallow.

Bill grinned, then came to sit down across from Harry.

"Good morning, Harry," he said.

"Bill," Harry nodded.

"You alright, then?"

"Y-yes."

"No... discomfort?"

"Bill, what are you on about?" Ginny said, standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at her brother. "Leave Harry alone."

"He just looks... shell-shocked, Gin. I thought..."

"I'm fine," Harry reassured him, glancing at Ginny, then back down at the tabletop where he studied his folded hands.

This can't be happening. Not Ginny!

He glanced back up to find Bill's amused eyes on him. Harry felt even more panicked. Bill grinned.

It wasn't a nice grin.

This was going to be a very long day.

Hermione Jane Granger spent a little time that afternoon putting the gifts she had brought for the Weasley family out under the tree. She put the gaily wrapped gifts down gently, thinking of each one before she set it down. For Arthur, she'd gotten a set of muggle screwdrivers, certain he'd enjoy them, and she could even show him how to use them. For Molly, there was a bright blue sweater. Ginny had told her once that her mother never bought herself anything new, that she spent hours pulling out the knitting of sweaters that the children had outgrown and reknitting them into serviceable garments for herself, or fashioning bits of fabric into skirts and robes. Hermione had gone into muggle London with her mother at the end of the summer and bought this in a ladies shop. It was a lovely blue, which would suit Molly, and was the softest cashmere.

For Bill and Charlie, she'd bought dragonhide gloves. Molly said they went through them at an alarming rate, and Hermione figured one could never have too many pairs.

The twins had gotten matching hats and mittens. Both in a color as close to Weasley red as she could find.

For Ginny, she'd found a pair of earrings fashioned into the shape of little brooms. They looked much like Ginny's chaser broom, and Hermione had thought they were appropriate.

Harry was getting a new broom servicing kit, as most of the supplies in the last one she'd gotten him were gone, and he never remembered to buy his own on their trips to Hogsmeade.

And Ron. How she hoped he liked her gift. She knew how touchy he was about things, and hadn't dared to buy him anything that could be considered expensive, but hoped that the journal she'd found in Hogsmeade, bound in Gryffindor red, and with a fancy golden quill she'd found in Flourish and Blotts, would be something that he'd think of her while using.

She hoped.

If Susan Bones wasn't occupying all of his thoughts, and Ginny and Harry making eyes at each other wasn't distracting him...

Who was she kidding? It would never happen.

Ron Weasley glanced across the table at Hermione, who was laughing at something that Charlie had said. Why was it that he could never have anything that was just his? Even Hermione, Charlie got to first.

And it was his own fault. Harry had been right. He should have gone and spoken to her last night, but he'd been too... nervous? Angry? Scared? And now, Charlie was laughing and teasing her... just as Ron wanted to.

He hoped that she liked his gift. He really hoped he hadn't made a very big mistake. He knew he couldn't pick perfume to save his life... as he'd proven ages ago. But this was different, Ginny had helped him pick it out, and hopefully, Hermione would like it.

He hadn't put his gifts under the tree yet. He'd been holding off, waiting... for what? Who knew. But he knew that he didn't want anyone shaking his packages and speculating on what they held, as they'd been doing with Hermione and Ginny's gifts.

He noticed that Harry hadn't put anything under the tree yet, either. He seemed to be waiting for something.

His parents were in their glory, although Ron had surprised his mother crying in the kitchen that morning. He knew she was upset about Percy, still. Probably would be for ever, but every time he thought about it, it just made him angry. The git still wouldn't admit he was wrong.

And Ron, who was angry to begin with, wasn't feeling any better about things. Least of all, his git of a brother.

"Arthur," Molly looked down the table at him, "I meant to ask you, love... did you make an extra payment at the village shop?"

"Molly, you know I leave all that to you," Arthur was concentrating on his peas.

"Well, when I went down there today to pick up the last things for Christmas dinner, Meredith said that a payment had already been made on our account, and not only were we paid up in full, but that there was rather a... large... credit available."

"No," Arthur put down his fork, looking at her strangely for a moment. "No, I haven't been down there in months, dear."

"Well, it must be a mistake, then, love..." she shrugged. "I'll talk to Meredith about it in the new year..."

No one noticed the twins exchanged glances, nor witnessed them glancing at Harry across the table, least of all Harry, who was concentrating on his dinner.

After dinner, the family played games and listened to Christmas music on an old muggle radio that Arthur had somehow managed to get working. They trimmed the tree, and Molly made warm cider and egg nog. There were trays of Christmas treats on the long table in the kitchen, and Harry and Ron felt full to bursting when Molly and Arthur finally declared it was time to put the lights out, or Father Christmas would never come.

Smiling with contentment as he made his way up the stairs, Harry thought that, even if it were over now, it would have been the best Christmas he'd ever had.

He waited until Ron was snoring before getting out of bed and taking a sack from his trunk. Quietly making his way down the stairs, he was aware of the dim glow, and the fact that there was someone up downstairs.

"But Arthur, I don't know what's going on," Molly's voice was hushed, but concerned. "This with the village shop, and the letters yesterday from the shops in Diagon Alley..."

"I'm sure it's just mistakes, love..."

"From all of them?" Molly's voice was disbelieving. "All of our accounts, paid in full? And enough left on credit to see to Ron and Ginny's needs for school this year and next? Not to mention Meredith... one hundred and fifty galleons, Arthur! How..."

"Molly, I'll talk to Dumbledore..."

"I'm concerned that they're doing this to... I dont know.. track us somehow..."

"I'm sure it's nothing so..."

"Arthur, we don't know who it is or why they've done it. Why on earth would anyone..."

"To thank you," Harry said softly from the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't intended to tell them, ever. He'd sworn the twins to secrecy... but he hadn't thought it would frighten them. He'd never meant to frighten Molly.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry..." Harry looked away, then back at the elder Weasley's. "I didn't mean to frighten you... it's not Voldemort... or anyone like that. I just... I just wanted you to..."

"Harry?" Molly came towards him, putting a hand on his arm. "You did this? Why?"

"To thank you," Harry said softly. "For everything you've done for me... for..."

"Harry," Arthur smiled. "You didn't need to do that..."

"It wasn't that I needed to... I... you..."

"Harry..."

"I have so much," Harry said softly. "Don't you see? I have so much... just sitting in Gringotts... and none of it means anything... but the time I've spent here... and Ron, and Ginny..."

He flushed.

"You're like... well, you're all like my family, and I... I just wanted to say thank you... and I didn't..."

"Harry," Molly hugged him, then pulled back. "We can't accept it, love."

"It's already done," Harry shrugged. "The money... it wasn't that much, and I didn't want it, and... I had no one else to spend it on."

Molly glanced over at Arthur, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Harry!"

"Please?" Harry glanced over at Arthur, then back at Molly. "Please, just... just take it. I don't... I don't want it back... and besides, it was Fred and George who..."

"Fred and George?" Molly looked at him, suddenly suspicious.

"I..." Harry gulped, suddenly remembering that Molly had no idea who had funded Fred and George's shop.

Coming clean wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"I gave them the money to start the shop," Harry admitted. "I'm sorry... it was the winnings from the tournament, and I didn't want it... and I told them if they wouldn't take it, I'd toss it from the train..."

"And this money...?"

"They made me a full partner in the shop," Harry said. "I didn't want them to, but... well, the money I used... for this... was my share of the profits from this year. As far as I'm concerned, it should have been yours anyhow..."

"Harry?" Arthur seemed shocked. "That was your share of the profits?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

"Equal shares?"

"Yes, sir."

Molly and Arthur exchanged looks.

"And you gave them the money to start up?" Molly asked quietly.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, but I'm glad it went somewhere that it would... well, I didn't want it. Not after..."

"Harry, thank you," Arthur said quietly.

"Sir?"

"We had no idea that the shop was doing that well, Harry," Arthur said. "We were concerned..."

"We should have known," Molly smiled. "We really should have."

Harry looked between them, not understanding, but unwilling to ask questions when they didn't appear to be angry with him.

Arthur stood, tiredly running a hand over his eyes, a gesture that Harry had seen Ron make thousands of times.

"I'm sorry..." Harry said quietly. "I didn't mean to offend. That's why I wanted it to be a secret, but I didn't think it might scare you..."

"You haven't offended us, Harry," Molly said softly, hugging him. "You haven't, love."

"Well, I thank you, Harry," Arthur nodded. "It was a very thoughtful thing to do... I am a bit uncomfortable with... well..."

"We'll accept it as the gesture it was meant to be, love," Molly smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Now, we ought all to be in bed..." Arthur turned towards the stairs. "I suppose the Father Christmas thing is rather ruined for you, Harry..."

"I never believed in Father Christmas, Mr Weasley," Harry said, missing the look that Molly cast him.

"I see you have a sackful there, then, son," Arthur nodded, recognizing Harry's look of discomfort. "We'll leave you to it, then, shall we, Molly?"

"Yes," Molly kissed Harry on the cheek then made for the door. "Good night, love. Don't stay up too long."

"I won't," Harry nodded, watching as they left the room, then turning back to the glowing tree. It really was beautiful.

The Dursley's had had a tree each year in the lounge. Aunt Petunia spent the entire day on the fifteenth of December each year decorating the house for the holidays. The tree was always perfectly trimmed, looking like something out of one of her fancy magazines. Harry had been banned from the lounge during this season.

The Weasley Christmas tree was lopsided, and a little bare of needles on one side. But it was the best that the small wood behind the Burrow had to offer, and the fact that they had decorated it as a family meant more to Harry than any number of perfectly shaped imitation trees from an expensive shop ever could have. It was decorated with pretty lights, charmed to flicker, and popcorn and cranberries strung on thread by Molly and Ginny that day. Harry reached out and touched the garland, smiling as he remembered Ginny's red head bent over her task, cursing as she pricked her finger for the hundredth time.

There pine cones hanging from threads, charmed silver and gold, and dozens of pretty baubles that they had collected as a family over the years. The tree was perfect, and Harry sighed, reaching for his bag of gifts and kneeling down to place them under the tree.

He'd really tried to not go overboard, but the temptation had been strong, and he'd finally just given in and bought gifts with the person in mind. Ron got a Chudley Canons magazine subscription, along with a bright orange shirt with the team insignia on it. He'd gotten Hermione a set of quills, good ones, that the shopkeeper had told him would last her a lifetime with proper care.

Bill was getting a set of books on curses and methods of detecting them, and Charlie was getting a set from the same series, only on dragons, their history, breeding, and care. The shopkeeper had looked at him oddly when Harry had bought them, but he assumed they were both acceptable.

Mr Weasley was getting a muggle hand-held video camera. Harry was nervous about this gift... he knew how Molly felt about Arthur's predeliction for muggle artifacts, and he wasn't sure how it would go over with her. And Harry would do just about anything rather than offend Molly Weasley.

Molly was getting a necklace that was a smaller version of the clock hanging on her kitchen wall. The pendant had room for many hands, all of which could be charmed to follow the movements of each individual family member. This way, Molly would know where her family was, every one of them, no matter where she was.

And Ginny... Ginny had been the hardest to buy for. Finally, he'd gone to Hermione. After asking him what he wanted to spend, she had quietly told him that Ginny was in desperate need of some new dress robes. Harry had nodded, although the thought of going into Madame Malkins or Gladrags alone to pick out dress robes for a witch was a daunting one.

Hermione had laughed, and asked him if he would like her to buy the gift for him, but he had shaken his head, and swallowed.

"This is my gift, Hermione... it wouldn't mean much if I just gave you the money and had you buy it, would it?"

Hermione had smiled at him, and watched as he had marched purposefully towards the shop, only to stop halfway across the street and come back.

"Umm..." he'd blushed deep red. "What size?"

Laughing again, Hermione had taken his hand and run across the street, dragging him into the shop before Ron or Ginny saw them.

Harry blushed at the memory. Hermione had let him do the choosing, and had simply given him bits of advice on Ginny's tastes and size. Harry had had the shopkeeper wrap the robes right there, not wanting to risk anyone seeing a girl's dress robes in his trunk.

That would have been the end, right there. His dorm mates would never have let him live that down.

And now, as he placed the pretty package under the tree, he smiled. He hoped, desperately, that he had made a good choice, even though Hermione assured him he had.

Ginny sat on the stairs, halfway up, watching Harry. She was stunned. She'd been right behind him as he came down the stairs, had even been about to say something to him, when she'd heard her parents speaking in the room below.

She'd heard it all.

Every word. Everything that Harry had said, everything her parents had said... and she was stunned.

Harry had done all that, for her family? She'd known he was happy to be with them, happy when he was with them, especially here at the Burrow. Otherwise, she wouldn't have ever gone to the lengths she had to ensure that they had Christmas here rather than at Grimmauld Place. She would never have begged and threatened every person she could think of, including Dumbledore, to get Harry this Christmas...

But she would never have believed it meant that much to him. Much, much more than even she had thought. And the thought that Harry had never believed in Father Christmas made tears come to her eyes.

Standing, she made her way down the stairs, and into the room where the raven-haired boy knelt in front of the Christmas tree.

"Harry?"

Harry jumped to his feet.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said softly, aware that her parents were in their room just down the hall.

"It's okay... I just didn't expect..."

"Apparently," she smiled. "Putting out your gifts?"

"Yes," he nodded, shoving her gift further under the tree with his toe, trying to do it without drawing attention to it, and failing dismally.

Ginny glanced down at the gift and back up to him, her eyes dancing. "Mine?"

"Umm... yeah..." he flushed and nodded.

"Can I..."

"I thought you weren't supposed to touch until Christmas morning?" Harry said, his voice sounding odd. "Father Christmas and all that?"

"I haven't believed in Father Christmas for quite a while, Harry," she tried to sound teasing, although there was a shadow in her eyes. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away. He was fairly certain she was thinking about the Chamber. He didn't know she'd been listening from the stairs.

"Gin?"

"Hmm?"

"I..." he swallowed again. "Happy Christmas."

She smiled again, then took a step towards him, and another. Harry was rather surprised when she reached up and, standing on her tiptoes, kissed him softly, quickly. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

And then he was watching as the hem of her nightgown disappeared up the stairs at a dead run.

Harry stood there for a full five minutes before he made his way to the stairs and headed up to his bed, where he laid awake for another hour, wondering what exactly that kiss had meant.