Dinner went smoothly. Harry was sandwiched between Ron and Sirius. Hermione was seated on the other side of Kate who was on Ron's other side. Harry had barely gotten a chance to speak with her all night and though she was obviously trying to avoid his gaze, he could help but watch her relax as she talked to everyone. She truly did look radiant in the flickering candle light.

The night was still young when Mrs. Weasley, with the flick of her wand, made their leftover dinner disappear to be replaced by mountains of candies, sweet pies, and delicate cakes. People began to lazily pick at the desert testing the limits of their already full stomachs. Lily flicked her wand nonchalantly at the old fashioned radio and a tinkling of light music drifted about the nearly empty plates. The few people who hadn't gotten up to talk to others around the table drifted away as if it were a well practiced maneuver. Sirius magically stacked the tables to the side leaving a large area in the center of the room for dancing.

Typically, Lily and James were the first to begin swaying to the music, followed closely by Sirius and his cousin Tonks, and then, to Harry's great surprise, Kate managed to drag a blushing Ron out with her as well. The site of his best mate stumbling around the dance floor nearly made him spit out the mouthful of butterbeer he was drinking.

Harry sat nervously on the edge of one of the chairs, unable to soak up the atmosphere as he put his elbows on his knees and proceeded to run his fingers through his hair ridding it of the remainder of it's stiffness. He had come to terms with it just hours before. It was a shocking realization—one that he wasn't quite ready to share with the world. But he had to share it with her. Tonight. A fear that she might run away screaming coursed through him—hell he wanted to run away—but he had to tell her. It was eating him alive in the most scary and exciting agony that he had ever experienced.

"Careful, you might go bald," a feminine voice said so close to him that he jumped. Ginny had come up next to him, taking a seat silently as he pondered.

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"You're hair pulling," she gestured, "you might go bald."

He didn't know how to respond to the off-handed greeting, so he remained silent. Untangling his hands from his hair he sat up and scanned the room for Hermione. She was no where to be found and he feared she might have slipped out without saying goodbye. Alarmed he scanned the crowded room more carefully.

"She's downstairs."

"Who?"

Ginny laughed. "Hermione! She is helping clean up in the kitchen. Something about the how the house elves deserve holidays too." Ginny pulled his chin up when he began the run his hands through his hair again. "Go get her."

"I can't!" he blurted.

"Why not?" Ginny's voice was exasperated.

"What if she—"

"She won't."

"But she told me—"

"She lied!"

"How do you know!?" he asked, getting tired of her interrupting his sentences.

"Because if it were me…" she trailed of going red before finishing resolutely, "I would want you to come get me, Harry Potter."

A Twinge of guilt echoed though him as he looked at her, thinking of how badly he had treated her just one year previous. She was honestly a very sweet girl. He was glad for her silence after their brief affair. If she had not been, he might have his best friend back right now. "Ginny--" he started to say.

"You are going to have to work harder for this one," she interrupted him, turning from him. "I suggest you start before she starts building up more walls to keep you out of that part of her heart."

With amazement, Harry looked at Ginny as if seeing the pretty redhead for the first time in a long while. Before he could stop himself, he gathered her into a bone crushing hug. Holding her at arms length, he smiled at her obviously flustered expression. "Thank you!" he said and with that, he went back into the hall and down the steps two at a time to the kitchen.

#-#-#-#-#-#

"Honestly!" he heard her voice filtering through the closed door. As he got closer, he heard the banging of pots and pans. Tiptoeing, he tried to slide into the door unnoticed. Hermione was standing alone in the kitchen, probably having sent the house elves away, looking completely frustrated. Half of the dishes were stacked neatly, washed next to the sink, but one pan did not seem to want to be washed at all. Hermione was dashing around trying to snag the rogue pot and having very little success. Harry stifles a laugh as it zoomed right between her legs and took another lap around the kitchen table—that is until the pan came zooming dangerously close to him. He let out a surprised yelp as his square glasses were covered with bubbles.

Hermione jumped and knocking over the already washed dishes, sending most of them crashing to the floor. "Harry!" she said, muttering a spell and sending the now clean and unbroken dishes zooming neatly into a cupboard. "You startled me! What are you doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, reaching up with his seeker reflexes reached up and snatched both the pan and the scrub brush out of the air.

Hermione looked up at him thankful for the help and embarrassed that she had just been bested by a brush and pan. "I was just cleaning up."

"Hermione, its Christmas Eve and you're a guest."

"Harry, it's not fair for the elves to have to clean up after us without wages! It's slavery!" she said outraged.

Harry had to choke out his argument. It didn't matter how many times he tried to talk sense with her about elf rights. She wouldn't listen, and it usually caused a fight. Instead he walked up and went over to her, picking up a dish rag and manually starting to clean stack of dirty silverware. He managed to wrangle the scrub brush under the sink where it was still banging about.

He didn't miss the smile that spread over Hermione's face as he handed her the clean cutlery to dry.

"Thank you," she said so quietly, he almost missed it.

"No problem."

The sound of soft music drifted down, breaking the only silence that was around.

"Harry?" she said timidly as he started to scrub some of the water glasses.

"Yeah?"

"I think I've made my decision."

The glass in his hand made a loud clatter as it hit the bottom of the metal basin. Harry could feel all of the muscles in his neck tighten with strain. This was it. The moment of truth was here. Suddenly he felt rather ill. Never had he let someone else lead in the relationship. Lacking any type of control over the situation was disconcerting. He had to fight the fear of disappointment and thrill of hope that were battling in his gut as he casually picked up the unharmed glass and handed it to her. "Oh?" he asked stupidly, taking another glass to scrub.

"Yes," she said simply.

Waiting during her long pauses was excruciating. "And?" he prompted after several moments.

Her hand came into the sink and took the glass from his hands. She turned him to face her, a smile on her lips. Harry's heart raced into action as she ran her fingers through his hair, settling them on the back of his neck and pulled him down into a crushing kiss. Hand's still wet and soapy, he pulled her tight to him, relishing in the feel of her lips on his and the length of her body pressed tightly against him. It was heaven. The thrill of it filled Harry's senses from the tips of his toes to the to of his head. He could never remember a kiss meaning so much to him and he clung to it as if his life depended on it. Hermione's lips were his air and her body was the only thing keeping him from bouncing off the walls with excitement.

For a moment, everything evaporated around them and Harry forgot about the fact that he was still kept in the dark by his father. He forgot that his best mate was with his sister. He forgot that the death toll of muggles and muggleborns was rising by the second. He forgot that Every second of everyday they were fighting a losing war on a battlefield coated with innocent blood.

Tonight was Christmas Eve and he had made up with Ron and was now kissing the most beautiful and smartest witch he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Life was good.

That is until…

"Hello?!" A female voice shouted from the hall. Harry reluctantly broke the kiss as Hermione looked curiously towards the kitchen door. "HELLO! I need help! Please! SOMEONE!" The voice was desperate.

Once Harry got the door, half of the upstairs party was already rushing down the stairs to see what all the commotion was about James and Sirius in the lead. What the saw shocked them all.

There, in the doorway, covered in blood that seemed to be seeping from several places on her body, was Professor McGonagall. Her normally neat hair was hanging lank about her shoulders and her robes were nearly shredded. Sirius and James dashed forward to catch her just before she toppled to the ground as Lily and Mrs. Weasley tried to wrangle all of the younger children back upstairs.

"Minerva! What in the name of Merlin happened to you?" Sirius asked. "Harry get the potions kit from under the sink! We need to stop the—"

"NO!" McGonagall shouted, causing everyone to stop in their tracks. "Albus has fallen. We need to get everyone to their Hogwarts immediately! You-know-who is on his way here now. We have been betrayed!"

~*\/*~