Standard disclaimers apply!

I do not own Harry Potter. I have nothing to do with Scholastic, Warner Bros or Bloomsbury. I'm not JKR and I am certainly not making any profit out of this.

Merry Christmas

"MUM! MUM! WAKE UP! MUM!"

Molly's eyes snapped open when she realised that the persistent pounding on the bedroom door wasn't a dream.

"MUM! COME ON MUM! GET UP! IT'S IMPORTANT! MUM!"

"Arthur!" Molly shook her husband's shoulder, grabbed for her dressing gown and jumped out of bed. "Something's wrong with George!"

Arthur groaned and rolled over slowly, squinting at the bright morning. "He's fine Molly, just excited about Christmas. Go with him."

oOo

"What's all the racket?" Harry poked his head out of Ginny's door as Ron and Hermione thundered down the stairs.

"It's George ..." Ron panted as he skidded to a stop, awkwardly attempting to button his pyjama top and hold his wand at the same time.

"Something's wrong!" Hermione added, pulling her hair back into an elastic band, her wand clamped between her teeth.

"No." Harry shook his head. "Don't worry, everything's fine, you can take your time."

"What's going on?" Ginny appeared behind Harry, hair mussed and clearly still mostly asleep.

"There was all this yelling," Ron explained, calming down slightly, "and banging."

"Everything's fine," Harry repeated, and then turned to Ginny. "Can you pass my bathrobe please?"

"Sure." Ginny disappeared from view for only a second. "Ron," she grinned suddenly, "you might want to sort that out." She motioned to her own neck with a vague wave of her hand and gave Hermione an amused look. "Blimey, Hermione. Marking your territory much?"

"What?" Hermione looked at Ron curiously, coloured a little and reflexively pulled the collar of her own pyjamas a little higher. "Right, um ... better take care of that." Pointing her wand at Ron's neck, she muttered an incantation under her breath.

Ron touched the place where he could feel a cool tingling and shrugged, then looked at Harry with a slight frown. "So what's ...?"

"Go back upstairs and put on your bathrobes," Harry suggested, "then we can all go down together."

oOo

"HARRY!" Molly caught him in a bone crushing hug worthy of Hagrid and kissed both his cheeks soundly. "Bless you, you dear boy!"

"It wasn't just me!" Harry's cheeks burned. "It was Arthur too! Not just me!"

"Come now Harry," Arthur clapped him on the back, "take credit where it's due. It was your idea, I just helped a bit."

"Yeah, don't be so modest Harry," Portrait Fred laughed from his new position over the kitchen mantle, "enjoy the glory for a change."

oOo

"There's a life size one in the shop," George explained to Guillaume Delacour, "and a smaller one in the flat."

"Fascinating," said Guillaume, "and you can move between zem? Just like zat?" he asked Portrait Fred, clicking his fingers for emphasis.

"Sure can!" Portrait Fred chuckled. "Could have done without seeing that one's hairy arse when he got up first thing this morning though."

"Shouldn't have looked then, should you?" George sniggered, and then turned back to Guillaume. "I thought I was cracking up when he woke me up this morning."

"It was beautiful," Portrait Fred sighed happily, "the look on his face ... just beautiful."

oOo

What a Christmas! Ginny seriously doubted there would be another like it. What, with the rush to get Grimmauld Place ready for the party and then the party itself. She was surprised they'd pulled it all off as well as they had.

Then today! What a day. It was almost like having Fred back for real. Not quite, but she'd take whatever she could get ... and Harry hadn't said a word about it! Neither had her Dad, for that matter. What a sneaky pair they were.

Replete after a their huge Christmas feast, everyone had been reluctant to move from the kitchen until George had left for a date with Angelina and Portrait Fred slid away to have a good look around the shop. Then Percy had disappeared, tight lipped about his destination but smiling in a way that she'd not seen him do since he was about 15.

Somehow Apolline had even talked Mum and Dad into going with them into London for dinner, so now the house was quiet.

Ron and Harry were playing chess (no surprises there) and Hermione had already got a start on her new pile of books (again, hardly surprising). Ginny didn't feel like reading though, or playing chess ... she didn't feel like doing much of anything, she was happy to just sit and daydream.

She was especially happy to just watch Harry for a while, and the firelight glinting off his glasses as he stared with fierce concentration at the board before him.

Three years old, she'd been, when Harry Potter had first come into her life. It was Ron, of course, who'd introduced him to her – the first time by desperately trying to get out of going to bed, begging Dad to tell them just one more story.

"Tell us about Harry Potter!"

"What's Happy Otters?" Ginny dropped her dolly and settled down next to her Daddy expectantly.

"Not HAPPY OTTERS," Ron squealed with laugher, "HARRY POTTER! Don't you know anything?"

"I KNOW LOTS OF THINGS!" Ginny scowled and stuck out her tongue.

"That's enough you two," Arthur warned. "If you want another story you have to sit quietly, and then it's straight up to bed!"

So Dad had told them the story about the bad wizard who killed lots of people, including a little boys Mummy and Daddy, and then tried to kill the little boy but had been killed himself; and how the little boy was a hero for making the bad wizard go away and bringing peace back to the wizarding community.

The Boy Who Lived had captured her imagination and stayed there, no matter how hopeless he was at chess.

She remembered when Percy was getting ready to go to Hogwarts. She'd flicked through his second-hand copy of "Modern History of Wizarding Britain", and by the end of the week she knew the "Harry Potter" page by heart.

What a riot! She laughed at herself, remembering the way she'd stutter and generally act like an idiot around Harry. How long had it taken her to realise that he was just flesh and blood like everyone else? Not that long, really, and it had only made her worse. He did all the stupid things that Ron did, but when it was Harry she'd thought it was cool.

Well, aside for when it was really annoying and pigheaded, then she just wanted to shake him; tell him that he was being an idiot for martyring himself and that it was perfectly alright to accept other peoples help, even if it was just in the form of admitting he was feeling unsure of himself. That didn't happen as often anymore, and hopefully in the next few years it would stop altogether. Sometimes it worried her. She wasn't fool enough to believe that The Great Harry Potter was anything more than a normal man with a huge heart, but other people still did ... and he put pressure on himself because of it. She wondered if it was possible to hug the damage of his childhood out of him.

Well, I'll certainly give it a good try!

Yup. Water was still wet, the sky was still blue and Ron had pummelled Harry in their game. She watched as Harry raised his hands in defeat with a self-deprecating laugh and Ron packed the chess pieces away.

"You look like you've been doing some heavy thinking," Harry settled himself comfortably beside her.

"Hmm. Not heavy, just thinking." She closed her eyes and smiled, snuggling into him when he wrapped his arms around her. "I was just thinking about when I was a kid," she opened her eyes again and laughed. "Back when I had a raging crush on you, but had no idea who you were."

"Oh." Harry chuckled. "You mean before you met me and realised that I was just a moody git like everyone else."

"Exactly," she agreed.

"Nice," Harry tried to look offended, but couldn't quite pull it off.

"I speak only the truth," Ginny intoned.

"Well, come and speak the truth upstairs," he murmured, "Ron and Hermione are making sappy faces at each other."

"Again?" Ginny watched them curiously. "Heh. Yeah, they've been doing that all day, now that you mention it."

"I know," Harry smirked, "had to laugh this morning."

"This morning?"

"Ron and the love bites ," Harry explained.

"Oh yeah," Ginny chortled. "Hermione might have the right idea though," she leered at him comically, "should I stake my claim on your neck, Mr Potter?"

"Stake it where ever you like," Harry leered right back at her, "I can take it."

oOo

"Would you look at that!" Angelina gasped.

"Look at what?" George asked, turning away from the menu he had been perusing in the widow of an Indian restaurant.

"That!" Angelina raised her gloved hand to point. "Across the road. It's Percy and Audrey, see?"

"Well bugger me!" George laughed. "Let's follow them!"

"Alright," Angelina agreed, "but be nice, OK? No trip jinxes or anything like that."

"I would never," George clutched at his heart and looked horrified.

"Yes you would," Angelina chortled, tugging on his arm, "come on, they're on the move. Let's go!"

oOo

"Ice cream?" George wrinkled his nose. "They're buying ice-cream, in this weather?"

"Each to their own," Angelina shrugged, "personally I'd be more inclined to a firewhiskey."

"I tend to agree," George said, "oh look, he's gone the hand-hold! Smooth work, Percy."

Angelina giggled. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to know you approve."

"'Course he would," George laughed. "Hey, we're not far from The Leaky. Shall we drop them when we get down there and go in for that firewhiskey?"

"Definitely! I'm freezing. Damn ... she doesn't half talk a blue streak when she gets going, does she? And here I was thinking she was shy and quiet."

"A good match for our Percy then," George observed, and then grabbed her arm. "He's going to kiss her! See? He's actually kissing her!"

"And she's kissing him back! Right in public and everything!" Angelina's face split into a wide grin. "It's so sweet I could puke!"

"Audrey seems quite happy with it," said George.

"'Course she is," Angelina scoffed, "she's fancied him since she was in third year."

"How do you know? Merlin! Again Percy? You sly old dog!" George laughed. "Good to know he's still got the Weasley in him."

"Hannah told me last night," Angelina said vaguely. "Oh no! They're turning around, quick!" She dragged him into a recessed shop-front.

"He's going to kill us," George whispered, stifling laughter, "lean right against the door, I'll hide you!"

"Well hello there George," Angelina giggled as he pressed right against her, "suddenly I'm warm again."

"Me too." He shot her lopsided grin. "While we're here ..."

"Be a shame to waste the opportunity," she agreed, brushing her lips over his. "Merry Christmas George."

"Hmmm. Merry Christmas, Angie."

That's if for today! Places to go, people to see, things to do, that sort of thing.

Is it really sad that I actually get a little bit of a thrill when I get good reviews? LOL. Can't help it, it does the confidence good. Thanks!