A/N: I'm back! Don't get mad at me for not updating-my computer was busted and I was ill so I couldn't. Now I have a new computer!

Wow, this chapter gets pretty sad at the end. We're dabbling in read Harry/Ginny stuff. I hope you like it, I'm pretty excited about it. I am SO glad to be back! I promise I wont be leaving this story anymore. Re-typing this chapter onto a new computer reminded me of how good this story actually is, and how close we are to the end!

I hope you can remember what happened in the previous chapters, else you're going get confused! I'd really appreciate some reviews from this chapter to, just to let me know you guys are still out there and not too mad at me! Hugs and smiles, Angel

Chapter 39-

'We're home.'

Harry put his hair brush down and took a final look in the mirror. He faced a smart green dress robe, a mop of spiky raven hair and a smile; he only hoped it would be enough.

Harry turned the brass door handle and trekked across the corridor, down the grand stairs, and into the front room.

Lily and James were standing in front of the fire place, dusting soot off their business-like robes; Erin was dancing at their sides, rambling about something excitable, before they noticed that Harry was there.

'Oh Harry, you look so handsome.' Lily cooed, as he hovered unsurely in the doorway 'Thanks.' Harry shrugged, wandering shyly inside.

'So what times the party?' Erin asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 'We have to leave soon, don't we? We are still going, right?'

'Of course we are, Princess. Wouldn't miss it for the world.' James assured her, taking rest in a nearby seat. 'But seeing as you've been in all day, and you wont allow elves in this house, could you run and get your mother and I some of your homemade scones?'

'Of course.' Erin grinned, turning to leave. 'But you know why we can't have house elves. It's slavery. House elves are people, not pets.'

'Princess.' James growled with a raised eyebrow, and Erin left with a stubborn swish of red hair. Lily giggled. Harry could help but be reminded of Hermione; maybe she could enrol Erin in SPEW.

'She's rather like myself at her age, isn't she?' Lily smiled to James.

'The resemblance is uncanny.' He replied, taking his glasses off tiredly.

Harry watched his mother unclip her thick red hair and let it fall to her shoulders, before she retired from the front room with a small smile, leaving Harry and James quite alone.

'So how was work, Dad?' Harry asked pleasantly, appreciating the opportunity to learn more about the man he resembled so much.

'Work was…eventful.' James replied, and Harry took an interested seat opposite his father.

The elder Potter picked up the Daily Prophet and sieved through it with tired brown eyes. Faint wrinkles formed as he squinted at the fine print, and eased as he sighed at the columns. He ran a shovelled hand through his woolly clumps or dark hair, and replaced his glasses once more, before he took notice that Harry was waiting for him to elaborate.

'Things at work are difficult, Harry.' James said seriously, folding up his paper. 'We're having a hard time at the moment. There have been some odd things happening…odd things…'

Erin scooted into the room silently, sensing a rare father-son ritual, and handed her dad his tea.

'Thanks Princess.' James smiled widely, before Erin exited proclaiming that she should go and get dressed.

Harry again watched his father with wide eyes, as he gingerly devoured a scone before turning his attention back to his son. Harry found it weird that James didn't notice his watching, nor felt any discomfort at the great unexplained halts in conversation. Somehow his mannerisms reminded Harry of Dumbledore, thought he wasn't quite sure why.

'It's nice that you came home this Christmas, Harry, and I don't think I've thanked you yet.' James said broadly, as he smiled at his son with content. 'I know you'd rather be at school, but it means a lot to your mother and I that you came home, not to mention your sister.'

'I wanted to come home.' Harry said honestly, his eyes not leaving his fathers. 'I honestly can't think of a place I'd rather be.'

'I bet you'd rather be beside Miss Weasley, eh?' James joked, before laughing at Harry's shocked expression. 'So we finally get a proper introduction tonight, I'm assuming? She did go to the ball with you, so it's only proper, Harry.'

'Oh-g…Sure.' Harry gargled, wondering how his parents could possibly not know Ginny. He'd had so many photos with her, so many shared times. He's assumed they knew her well.

'I don't think I've ever spoken a word to the girl, not once in all the years you've been friends with her.' James mused, ruffling his hair. 'I know Mr and Mrs Weasley well, and am familiar with their elder sons, but I've never come across Ginevra. She barely makes an appearance at the Christmas parties anymore.'

'That's a shame…' Harry mumbled, feeling slightly secluded from the conversation.

'So any Christmas wishes?' James asked cheekily, his eyes playful and alert once more.

'Just one.' Harry offhandedly, thinking of at least 50.

'Well?' James encouraged, like a giddy school girl.

'I wish that you and Mum would stay home for the rest of the holidays.' Harry said, not being able to uncover the truth of his situation.

James pulled a strained face.

'You know we can't guarantee that.' He said, putting his paper away. 'We have serious business at work, you should know that. It's not everyday that a Basilisk roams freely around Hogwarts, now is it?'

'You know about that?' Harry asked, stunned.

'Of course. Dumbledore wrote to us the very next day.' James said, looking prouder then ever. 'It was a brilliant and brave thing you did. I never thought you were capable of such bravery. You'll make a great Auror someday, Son. Hopefully someday soon.'

'Thanks, Dad.' Harry said, breaking into a smile.

'You're mother and I haven't commended your achievement because it's too close to home, Harry.' James explained, distracting himself with his paper again. 'There are dark things happening at the moment, and your incident is only a puzzle piece of the current mystery.'

'You'll keep me updated, wont you Dad?' Harry asked sincerely, looking younger then his years.

James rose from the table, lifting his plate from it's rest, and replied:

'Of course I will, Son.'

Sometime later the Potter family was assembled around the fireplace, wearing the finest wizard robes money could buy. James wore suit robes similar to Harry, but red; Lily and Erin had large dresses in copper and bronze.

'All set?' James asked his family grandly, before offering a silk bag of floo powder to his son. Harry ambled forward and took a wad of glittery powder. He crept into the fireplace, thinking for a moment of what the night could bring, before he sent himself spinning to:

'The Burrow!'

Upon arrival, Harry was surprised to find the living room empty. He stepped outside and dusted himself down, before his sister and parents arrived.

'Come on, lets go!' The Erin cheered, leading her family eagerly through a door Harry had seen Ginny enter from only days before. This door lead to a long corridor with 20 or more mahogany doors, and Harry could help but wonder how much the Burrow had expanded. At the end of the labyrinth stood two large antique doors, both with large ornamental handles. The family stopped a few feet before them.

'Are you two ready for our entrance?' Lily asked her children, interrupting the light conversation between herself and her husband.

'Just let me straighten up.' Erin insisted, flicking out her straight crimson hair, for which reason Harry wasn't sure.

'Now lets go.' James said, smiling at Lily, who replied:

'Lets go.'

Before he knew it, the family were moving forwards again and the large arching doors opening simultaneously, inviting them inside and revealing the most spectacular Christmas revel.

The hall was enormous: twice the size of the Great Hall. The walls were red with old fashioned gold swirls and trim, the ceiling was a picture of the heavens. Not a single spot had been missed for decoration; holly, mistletoe, gold bells and fireflies skimmed each rail and handle. Golden angels floated in mid air at each wall; the Christmas tree was like nothing Harry had ever seen, as were the chandeliers. All this was impossibly overwhelming, but there was one thing that really pushed Harry over the edge:

'You didn't say that there'd be dancing!'

'Well of course there is.' Erin grinned. 'What fun would a party without dancing be?'

A ball brewed in the centre of the gathering. Fine men and women joined hands in waltzes and traditional dances, each dressed with a great air of elegance. There were too many guests for Harry to count, he found, and so many of them looked like important ministry officials that Harry found he didn't want to try. The more he looked around, the more nervous he got.

'Why didn't you say this was a ball? Harry stressed, turning slightly red in the face, as the family swept royally inside. 'I thought this was like a dinner party.'

Erin laughed.

'No.' She replied. 'There's no dinner; just dancing, socialising and mini cakes and chocolates. They make poor little house elves carry them around on trays. It's awful, really…'

Harry watched a tiny brown elf balance a shiny platter, perhaps twice his size, on his head, before getting knocked over by a large dancing couple sending mint almond chocolates flying across the room.

'So why didn't you spend all day getting ready for tonight,' Harry persisted, 'like you did for the Christmas ball?'

'Because tonight isn't important; it's just for fun!' Erin cheered, signalling to the warmth of the crowd. 'I wont have Sky breathing down my neck the whole night here…Oh don't look so pained! You don't have to dance or have any sort of fun, I won't force you to.'

'But I will.' A jolly voice laughed behind them.

The Potters turned round to face a giggling Ron and Hermione, hand in hand. They both wore robes in differing shades of blue, and looked highly sophisticated. (Excluding their plastered grins.)

'You two look nice tonight.' Erin beamed, addressing the couple formally.

'Thanks,' Hermione giggled, looking up sweetly into Ron's eyes and then back again. 'You too.'

'Had a nice holiday so far?' Harry asked casually, putting his hands in his pockets.

'Not great, that is until Hermione got here today.' Ron grinned lopsidedly, noticeably squeezing Hermione's hand.

'And you?' Harry asked Hermione.

'Mine's been ok.' She replied. 'But, oh Harry, I have siblings!'

A brother and three sisters, Hermione told Harry as they made their was across the embellished room, all aged between 3 and 8. Hermione looked unpredictably excited at the prospect.

'Casey's the oldest; she's 8.' Hermione told the Potters animatedly. 'The twins, Savannah and Toby are 5, and Bridie's only 3.'

'That's great, Hermione.' Harry told his friend, tracing the crowd with his eyes. 'I wonder why you don't have siblings here, but not at home.'

'Well, my Mum had a couple of miscarriages.' Hermione said solemnly, twiddling the ribbon on her sleeve. 'Due to stress. I suppose she wasn't under so much pressure here. I've always wanted brothers and sisters…'

'Come on, lets go and watch.' Ron said, putting a protective arm around Hermione and leading the group away.

Erin and Harry followed the couple through a door and up a flight of stairs, before they appeared on a great side balcony overlooking the festivities.

'It's really beautiful.' Erin sighed, leaning dreamily over the edge. 'All the women look so elegant. I wish I was one of them. They're all such true beauties.'

'But none as beautiful and you!' A charming and familiar voice called.

Dean and Seamus bounded across the balcony, grins in full swing, and bear hugged each friend in turn.

'So how all we all this Christmas Eve?' Seamus asked, as he pulled away from Hermione.

'Fine.'

'Great!'

'Never been better.'

'Got any news, chat, gossip?' Dean asked, eyeing each friend in turn.

'Not yet,' Ron answered. 'But I bet we'll have some by the end of this evening. Everyone's here tonight -something's bound to happen!'

'This does have to be your best Christmas Eve bash yet.' Seamus agreed, leaning over the golden rails.

'So where's the butterbeer?' Dean asked plainly, and got a slap round the head from Seamus in reply. 'What?'

'For a moment there I actually thought you guys had turned up tonight for the festivities and dancing.' Harry chuckled. 'Clearly I was wrong.'

'We turned up because Ron actually invited us this year.' Dean explained, pulling a face at the mentioned red head. 'And to see the lovely rich ministry girls.'

Harry followed Dean's eye line to a large group of official looking couples, and their teenage offspring. Adolescents were definitely the minority at the ball, and there must have been nobody below the age of 13, but there were some youngsters speckled across the hall. Harry didn't recognise most of the well dressed individuals, but could identify one girl with long mousy hair as Susan Bones, and was sure Marietta and Indiana Edgecomb were at the back with their family.

'Lydia Mae Hyde.' Seamus sighed, eyeing a ministry girl in deep crimson robes. 'She goes to Durmstrang, doesn't she?'

'Stuff her, think Reegan Charmwell.' Dean assured him. 'Stinking rich.'

'Becanna Revel.' Seamus insisted. 'An unspeakable.'

'Ambrite Moonwell.' Dean pointed out. 'Home schooled.'

'Carissa Rose Burns.' Ron grinned. 'Part vampire.'

'Oh, shut up all of you!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Leave the poor girls alone!'

'Yeah, lets go dance!' Erin cheered, ready to bounce away.

'But what about the butterbeer?' Dean questioned, restraining Erin.

'Mrs Weasley specifically said no alcohol for underage wizards.' Hermione reminded the group, and was replied with undignified groans.

'But what she doesn't know, wont hurt her.' Ron said. 'Or us.'

'Then it's decided.' Dean grinned. 'Let mission 'Nick the Christmas butterbeer' commence!'

The Marauders, with the addition of Erin and Hermione, were about to race away when a fresh patter of footsteps stopped them in their tracks.

'Hello, you guys.' Neville smiled weakly, Daisy walking by his side. 'Have we missed much?'

The gang ran menacingly at the new comers, grabbed them by their smart dress robes, and dragged them away without an explanation quicker then you could say 'refreshments.'

Over an hour later the gang sat on benches outside on the patio, drinking butterbeer and eating gooseberry and lemon chocolates.

'This stuff rocks!' Ron cheered picking up candies in one hand.

'I know,' Daisy said. 'I didn't expect the chocolates to be nice either.'

'Not them, the butterbeer!' Ron exclaimed, lifting a large bottle in his other hand.

It had taken the Marauders all their cunning to successfully devise a sophisticated enough plan, but after much hard work and compromise they'd managed to unleash a box of strong butterbeer and detach a tray of sweets from a feeble looking elf.

'Ron, you'd better not drink too much.' Hermione warned, with a frown. 'I wont be supporting you all night if you do.'

'Don't worry, I wont.' Ron insisted, curling towards her.

'I still don't like you drinking the strong butterbeer.' Hermione sulked. 'It's only meant for adults.'

'Well, I'll stop if it will make you happy.' Ron said finally, discarding his half full bottle and joining Hermione in a kiss.

Harry sighed. Seeing Ron and Hermione together made him think of Ginny. He'd come to the party in the hope of talking to Ginny. He'd got himself inspired and pumped up to tell her how he was feeling, however that was, and she was nowhere to be seen. Harry couldn't help but winder if she was avoiding him.

'Well, that's fair enough.' Ginny said stiffly, glaring at the floor. 'I mean, it doesn't matter. I-I don't like you anyway, I was just confused. And it was only a little spur-of-the-moment kiss. It's didn't mean anything.'

Harry played the moment through his head again and again. He got no comfort from it, in fact, after a few minutes he felt rather ill and wished he was at home again. At least at home he could be miserable in his own space. He was sure he wouldn't be able to cheer up without Ginny's company.

'Are you alright, mate?' Ron asked genuinely, bending down from his standing level.

'Never been better.' Harry replied, with a crooked smile.

'Well, come on then! We're going in.' Ron announced, and Harry notice that the garden had emptied. 'The dancing's starting up again.'

Harry limply followed Ron and the others inside, and ambled up the stairs to the balcony once more. The dance floor was filling rapidly, Harry noted, yet none of the participants were young ones.

The gang bundled over to the golden rails, and peered out into the ceremony as the music began to play. Couples assembled and readied themselves for movement; placing arms her and putting legs there. Grinning old men took ageless ladies hands and led them into the thicket, as Harry, Ron and Hermione spewed round the corner to get a better view.

'Come on,' Ron finally added, turning round. 'Lets go downstairs, we'll see better from there.'

The trio traipsed down a different set of steps, and arrived at a smaller balcony on the edge of a large mahogany stage. The stage was at the far end of the ball room, and had a large set of steps in front, leading to the festivities. It reminded Harry of the stage in a muggle film called 'The Sound of Music,' which Aunt Petunia had always liked to watch when Dudley wasn't home.

'You could just see Cinderella running up those steps at midnight.' Hermione beamed, on a similar trail of thought as Harry.

'Yeah.' The raven hair boy smiled. 'It's nice.'

Just then, a new tune began to play, and the couples spread into an unintentional pattern, giving each duet it's space. It was only as the courting introduction finished, and each duo stood hand in hand, that Harry noticed-

'Ginny!'

She floated like an angel in the centre of the ballroom, her feet barely touching the ground. A young handsome prince accompanied her, whispering trinket words into the air. She wore a gown of pure silk, adorned with gold trimmings, long white gloves and her own grace. Her hair was half down in curls, half held up with fairies breath and a halo. Her face was as bright as the moon.

Harry watched her flutter her cinnamon butterfly lashes, and smile softly, her freckles like warm snowflakes. He watched her slide her arms around the shoulders of a stranger, and that was when he fled.