A/N: A longish note to acknowledge something that had been bugging me—

I had much of this story, including Chapter 37: Fidelius, plotted out some time before I heard about the wonderful tale authored by one of my favorites, Thanfiction: Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness, which I am reading very slowly.

Going back and looking at some of the chapters I had already read of his story, I realized there were some unintentional similarities between our works (most notably my version of the Fidelius). I had striven to make "7th Year From Hell" as original as I could, but alas, there seemed to be some unconscious overlap between our works. I've spoken with him about it, and he's fine so long as I don't lift entire passages from his work, which I would never, ever do! But definitely go and check out Thanfiction's work. He's brilliant!

I own nothing. Thanks to the eagle-eyed JJ Rust for finding a couple of mistakes; they have been corrected.


Chapter 39: Preparing for the Holidays

"Xeno's back home." Arthur said, hanging his scarf next to the front door. It was the twenty-first of December, the day after Luna's arrest. The Ministry had apparently released Xenophilius, but all it had taken was one day to break him. "He's frightened, of course. And he's unwilling to talk to anyone. I tried to offer my help to find Luna, but he thinks it's our fault. Harry's fault, actually. And he slammed the door on me."

"Oh, the poor man!" Molly exclaimed as she bustled about the kitchen.

"For this to happen during the holidays is tragic, indeed." He accepted a mug of tea from his wife. "Wherever Luna is, she's not at the Ministry."

"It's not possible they actually put her in Azkaban, is it Dad?"

Arthur visibly winced. "As horrible as that is to imagine, sweetheart, it's likely. We're trying to find out, but, to be honest, it's a little difficult to do."

"Why?"

"Kingsley's been on the run since the safe-house attack in November; his access to the Auror Department is limited at this point. Tonks is the same. And they don't release the names of their prisoners, not to lowly Ministry officials like myself." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I can't believe I'm the one to say it, but Fred and George're probably our best bet to find out any information about her."

The girls left Ginny's parents in the kitchen and moved towards the living room, hoping to talk about Luna more privately.

"What if they don't find out where she is? From all appearances, they've abducted her. What if they have her locked up? What if she's—"

"Ginny, How can they do that? She's Luna!"

"I know. But the people who have her are evil." Ginny turned her head back towards the kitchen, making sure that her mum was out of earshot. "First Terry's mum and dad. Now Luna's missing." She slumped down on the couch. "She did so much to keep us going, even when people were ready to quit."

There was no mistaking that Ginny was talking about the D.A., even though she couldn't say Luna or Terry were in it directly.

"I never thought I'd be saying this, but she's one hell of a witch."

Ginny grinned sadly at Daphne's admission. "That she is."

"Hey, I almost forgot. You all right?"

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'Am I all right?' Not really. I'm worried about Luna."

Daphne shook her head. "Last night. You had a really bad dream."

She blushed; she hadn't realized that she had done anything or said anything while she had been asleep. Even though she knew exactly what she had dreamt about. "Oh, er, I don't even remember what the dream was."

"You kept saying something like, 'No, don't make me! Don't take me down there!'"

Ginny felt her face reddening furiously.

(Good Godric! What else could I have possibly said?)

"Like I said," she kept her voice light, "I can't even remember what I had been dreaming about."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when Daphne appeared satisfied with her answer and dropped it to talk about lighter fare.


Despite being thankful that they were back at the Burrow, Ginny could feel tension crackling in the air; Luna's arrest was only the tip of the iceberg.

She thought back to Daphne nearly fleeing her room because she needed to sleep with the light on. The soft glow of her old-fashioned bedside lamp might have been enough to help Daphne get a little sleep that night, but for Ginny, it hadn't been enough.

She had had another nightmare. And it hadn't been her first.

It was her third one ever since touching that diadem and feeling something inside it move. She didn't know how or why, but coming into contact with that little tiara had dredged up the worst of Ginny's memories; the nightmares revolved around her first year, her possession, and her abduction into the Chamber of Secrets.

Why? Why now? Had it been something with the tiara, or were the things going on at Hogwarts somehow getting to her, tearing down those partitions Emotional Healer Flora Auditor had helped her build in her mind? She knew she wasn't that scared and helpless first year child anymore. She wasn't inside the Chamber, dying at the feet of a madman. She knew that Tom Riddle wasn't still inside her head, making her do disgusting things that she didn't want to do. Ginny was in control now, despite all the chaos around her, destroying her world.

So why was she having these stupid dreams again?

She pondered these questions as she pulled out a box lodged deep within her closet, a box that had been unopened since she started her third year. She blew a layer of dust of the first book, and, with a frightened but resigned touch Ginny read the title—

Possession: The Magic That Controls, The Magic that Haunts, by Emotional Healer Animus Grey, Chief Warlock of St. Mungo's Emotional Healing Arts Department, 1982.

"Somethings won't ever change, eh Gin?" she whispered to herself. She leaned against her pillows and cracked open the book, flipping to the back, to the chapter covering long-term affects on victims of soul possession.


Early the following morning, Molly came up to Ginny's room armed with two partially empty bags. She put them on the floor in front of the girls.

"These are for you and Daphne. There are already some toiletries in the bags. You'll need to pack some underwear, a couple of changes of clothes, good shoes and socks. Daphne, if you need to, you can borrow some of Ginny's. Ginny, you will share with Daphne and vice versa. There'll be no argument."

"Sure Mum. But why?"

"Your father and I will be taking these bags to our emergency location in case the Burrow ever becomes compromised." Molly's voice and demeanour were even and steady; it reminded Ginny of how she had sounded when Death Eaters invaded the Burrow following Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"If the Burrow is compromised?"

"We're not taking anything for granted. If we are attacked, we will leave. No questions, no hesitation. In the meantime, we need to be prepared. Now, make sure you get a coat in there in case we need to go during winter, and include a jumper, trousers, and however many shirts you can fit. Do not forget good shoes and socks! That is important. Make sure whatever goes into these bags can be worn throughout the year."

She was just about to leave the room when she turned back around. "I want this to be done in a couple of hours. And never, ever go to sleep without knowing where your wands are." She shut the door on them as they scrambled to start filling their bags.


When the twins appeared at the Burrow a few hours later, Ginny thought they might have brought with them something about Luna.

But . . .

"There's nothing, unfortunately." Fred said with a sigh. "Not even the faintest whisper of her whereabouts. We've put out feelers everywhere for Luna."

"It's hard to miss her." George added. "We've told our contacts to watch out for a sixteen-year old girl with blonde hair, buggy grey eyes and a penchant for wearing vegetables and bottle-caps."

Daphne tried not laugh, but George did have a point. Ginny, though, glared at her brothers.

Fred shrugged. "If we get word that someone's been talking about a herd of snorkelling dingbats in the area, we'll know we're on the right trail."

"Be serious!" Molly scolded them. "Luna is a sweetheart, one of the most charming—"

"By charming you mean weird?"

Molly glared at Fred.

"We're doing what we can, Mum." George said, holding up his hands. "But the people that we know who would know something? They know nothing. So it's a dead end."

Feeling depressed and realizing talking about it wasn't solving anything, Ginny changed the subject from Luna to how the shop was doing.

"Oh, it's been a banner year! And for once, I'm not being sarcastic." Fred looked at George; both twins winked at the other. "Who'd've thought the war would be good for the funny business?"

"We're fielding more mail-in orders than usual, which is to be expected. But a few Security and Camouflaging Charms, and a family in hiding can at least keep their little rug rats happy!" George leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Our candy line's been a big seller, our defence items are on back order at the moment, and we've developed this new product inspired by this Muggle game — Daphne, you know darts, right?" Fred asked excitedly.

"Yeah. It's extremely popular in Muggle pubs and taverns."

"Well, we've created a spell target board, and the background allows you to hit famous Dark Wizards and Death Eaters throughout history," George said. "We've got the 'Grindelwald' deluxe edition, complete with all his known followers. And in the 'You-Know-Who' version, Bellatrix Lestrange shrieks every time you hit her with a spell."

"She taunts you until you want to shut her up, but it's rather therapeutic to get her right between her evil little eyes," Fred continued, a very proud expression on his face. "Getting her voice perfect was key. We took Sirius' mum, mixed it with a lot of banshee, and finished with the sound Crookshanks makes when you step on his tail. And voilà!" He flourished his hand. "Instant Bellatrix!"

Daphne laughed so hard, she had to hold her stomach.

Fred had just reminded Ginny about something. "I can't believe I forgot. Where's Crookshanks?"

As if on cue, a large orange tabby cat jumped up right on Ginny's lap with his bandy legs. He stared at her with his scrunched-up face and she cooed as she scratched behind his ears.

"Crookshanks! Oh, do you like that?" Ginny giggled as the cat stayed on her lap for approximately one minute, and then jumped off the table to accept a saucer of fresh milk from Molly.

"He's been a very valuable addition to the household." Molly said as she put the saucer down on the floor. "We allow him to go outside and chase garden gnomes, but he always has his eye out for possible intruders."

Ginny felt a shiver go up her spine. "And you know this how?"

Molly noticeably paled. "We've had a few Ministry officials make surprise visits every once in a while. Crookshanks alerts us before the wards are ever disturbed."

"That and watching him hiss his little cat heart out at Death Eaters makes for good entertainment." Fred said, winking at the creature.

"He's so damn weird-looking," Daphne muttered, watching him walk towards his drink on the floor. Her eyes widened as Crookshanks twisted his head around and peered at her unnervingly, before bending over to lick the milk.

"Was it just me, or did that thing hear what I said?" Daphne asked the table.

"He's a bizarre one, that's for sure." Fred said, watching the cat drink. "Probably did hear you. George, didn't we reckon he ate about five Extendable Ears when we were living at Sirius' old home?"

"Maybe more like ten. That thing's half Ear by now. So, you're not a cat-lover, Greengrass?"

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "Dogs are so much better. They're not fickle with their affections, you know?"

There was a small hiss behind them. Crookshanks had opened his mouth and made a disapproving noise aimed right at Daphne. He then sauntered over towards Ginny and curled up at her feet, his tail wrapping around her ankle.

He gave Daphne one final hiss and laid his head down.


The girls alternated with helping Molly with chores and preparing the Burrow for Christmas Eve, which was just a couple of days away. They also tried desperately to find some decent music on the Wireless; the WWN had, for the moment, taken off the air the constant stream of banshee chamber music. In its place were Celestina Warbeck's Christmas tunes.

Daphne realized just how much better Warbeck sounded in comparison.

In the evenings, they would dig out Daphne's old 'casey-tape' player, enchanted by Arthur to play without batteries and to project music around their living room. The Weasleys would listen to the Muggle music that Daphne had given to Arthur last Christmas. There was Van Morrison's Moondance, some early Beatles, and a slow song that Mrs. Weasley had become very fond of—

"Arthur, Arthur! That one song about being with the son of a preacher! I love that one!"

Daphne laughed and leaned over to whisper to Ginny. "Dusty Springfield. That song is like a fine shag on a summer day!"

Ginny wrinkled her face in disgust. "Eurgh! Daphne, those are my parents that're dancing to that!"

She grinned. "Well, you lot had to come into the world one way or another."

"Spontaneous conception, Daphne. Seven times. And that's the story I'm sticking to."

The next morning, Ginny was in her room, making her bed while humming that blasted preacher man song under her breath. Daphne chuckled when she heard her. "See? What did I tell you? Dusty Springfield's addictive." Ginny watched her face as her grin broadened into a smile and she started humming the song herself.

"Didn't you describe it like 'a fine shag on a summer day'?"

"Sure did, Weasley!"

"Ah! So I'll bet you're thinking about Corner and whatever you two got up to the day before we left?"

There was no mistaking Daphne's normally light complexion reddening furiously. "Uh, er, n-no. Not nothin', er, anything . . ." Her voice petered off into a mumble.

"Hm. Someone's suddenly forgotten how to talk." She smirked as Daphne stared daggers at her.

After a few more moments of folding and tucking, Ginny sat down on her bed, this time giving Daphne a genuine, friendly smile. "It's nice that you and Michael are doing well. I'm happy for you." But she couldn't help but think that saying she was truly happy for Daphne and Michael was a bit of a stretch.

Daphne plopped on her bed, directly across from Ginny.

"Thanks, but you're lying."

"Excuse me?"

"Ginny, you're not totally happy about me and Michael. You're missing Harry, which is completely understandable."

Her glare softened into a morose expression. She might as well tell Daphne — it was clear she had already guessed what had been bothering her. "You know, it's Christmas and I've got no idea if he's still alive or hurt. And it's been getting worse since coming back here for the holidays. Now that we're not constantly on guard, worried about getting detentions, whether or not the Carrows're going to Crucio and/or whip us, all I can think about are Harry, Hermione and Ron. Everywhere I look here, something reminds me of them. Ron especially."

"But I really think if something happened to any of them, we'd know about it. The Ministry wouldn't hesitate making sure that we all knew he was Undesirable Number One."

Ginny grunted sadly. "Yeah, maybe. Know what else I've been thinking?"

"No."

"I don't even know if I'm in love with Harry."

"Oh?"

"I know I love him. I finally admitted that to myself," she nudged her head towards Daphne, "when Carrow attacked Neville in Dark Arts. Harry and I were together only for a few weeks, and wow! It was good. It was fun. No drama, really. We talked, and then we didn't talk, if you know what I mean."

"I do."

"And it worked for us."

"Then Dumbledore died."

"And then Dumbledore died," Ginny flopped backwards on the bed. "And we broke up because he was worried I could be used to get to him. Never mind the fact that my brother's his best friend, and our family's known to be close to him and we'd be used to lure him out if necessary anyway."

Daphne flopped down besides her. "Harry the heroic prat."

Ginny snorted.

"So Weasley, how do you feel now?"

Her eyes floated up to the ceiling. "Million Galleon question. He made me happy. I think about those few weeks that we spent together and I still remember what I felt back then. I see things that remind me of him all throughout the house, all over Hogwarts. And I know this sounds selfish, but—"

She paused.

"What?"

Ginny swallowed. "It's such a girlish thing to say, but I want to be the thing that keeps him going, doing whatever he's doing."

Daphne nodded. "I understand. You hope he's thinking about you, worrying about you, using those memories to continue fighting."

She curled her lip. "It sounds wretched whenever I say it out loud."

"No. It sounds like you want to help him out, even if you can't be with him."

"Despite all that, I don't really know for sure whether I'm in love with him. I love him, absolutely. But do I love him?" She snorted. "It's unrealistic to fall so hard for someone so quickly. But I also feel like I could've. If things had gone differently."

Ginny sniffed a little bit, cursing that her eyes were getting wet. Why the hell did she have to be so bloody sad all the time?

"We just needed a little more time."


Christmas Eve approached, and the girls awoke to an interesting discovery.

"Ginny!"

Daphne's voice made her jump.

"Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!"

"What?!" The response was a bit harsher than she intended. But she was so bloody exhausted; she didn't get a good night's sleep, thanks to another nightmare.

Ginny turned over in her bed — and right into the Galleon that Daphne was shoving into her face.

"Check yours. I got a message from Neville."

Ginny shot up and grabbed her Galleon. Sure enough, there was a new message on it—

"Worried about Luna. Azkaban? Keep us posted!"

They replied, with heavy hearts, that she still hadn't been found nor did they know anything more.

The girls got dressed and headed downstairs to help Molly with chores and cooking. Both of them made disgusted sounds as they heard the roaring snores coming out of Charlie's bedroom.

"Your brother might be a handsome bloke—"

Ginny made a gagging sound. "Ew! Charlie? Really?"

"Objectively speaking, he's fit. But, Sweet Circe's Pig Farm, someone needs to put a muting charm on him while he's sleeping."

Ginny flashed an exasperated look at the bedroom and shook her head. "As much as I love Charlie, he's a boar. He's the brother that taught Fred and George about snot shots."

"What're snot shots?"

"You close one nostril and you project as much snot as you can onto a target."

"Gross!"

Ginny cringed. "And he encouraged our Burping Wars. One time, he actually burped about half the Sorting Song from his seventh year. I pity the poor woman who has to clean up after him."

Daphne laughed as she turned and spied his room. "He's funny, though."

"He's a crack-up, but he's spent way too much time with the blokes on the dragon reserves. They get up to ghastly things there."

The girls made their way into the kitchen, Ginny telling Daphne the worst stories about growing up with her brothers.

"—And then Charlie did this thing called 'Dutch Oven'. He'd sneak into Fred and George's bedroom early in the morning; if Bill was around, he'd convince him to come with him, and he'd pull back the covers on the twins' beds, stick his bum out, and—"

"GINEVRA!" Molly shouted. "Honestly, telling Daphne those foul stories about your brothers."

Daphne was clutching her sides as Ginny swept behind her mum and gave her a big kiss. "They're funny stories. Besides, Daphne did ask."

Molly gave her a flat look and nodded towards the living room and dining room table. "Make sure the front rooms are swept up and dusted, and then I'll ask for your help with the puddings. We're expecting some guests tonight."

Her mum didn't offer anything more than that. Although, Ginny thought, since she didn't look outright angry about the visitors, that had to be a sign that their guests weren't going to be Death Eaters or Ministry employees. They cleaned and cooked the entire day. Every once in a while, Molly and the girls would glance at the Weasley family clock, now propped precariously against the counter and cabinets.

Every hand, including Ron's, were still pointed towards "Mortal Peril".

The day took a sour turn when Fred and George popped in for lunch. They had come over wanting to set up a few holiday Wheezes around the house. George had gone upstairs to wake up their noisy brother and Fred delivered some troubling news to the others.

"I think we know what the Ministry's making Xeno do in order to get Luna back." He tossed the latest issue of The Quibbler into the middle of the nicely decorated table.

Ginny, Daphne and Molly leaned over to look at the picture — and gasped. Staring back at them was a blinking, bespectacled picture of Harry Potter, with the words, "UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE!!" flashing across it, as well as the notice for the hefty reward to be given for turning Harry Potter over to the Ministry.

"Happy Christmas wizarding world! And please turn over to us the only hope you have to destroy You-Know-Who! Cheers!" Fred sneered at the headline.

Molly shook her head. "Seems like even the best of us has a price. That his is Luna is understandable. Oh, it's just unfortunate!"

"That bastard!" Ginny spat.

"There also goes the last bastion of free printed press." Fred muttered with disgust. He looked pointedly at the two girls. "No more telling the truth about the Ministry, Harry Potter, and Muggle-borns, eh?"

Daphne's leaned over to Ginny, her voice nervous, "Looks like we did the Fidelius right in the nick of time." She nodded solemnly in response.

"Oi!" George's voice bellowed from the stairwell. "Everyone. Behold the sleeping dragon awaketh!" He took a deep bow as Charlie Weasley stumbled in, bleary-eyed and yawning, into the kitchen, followed by George who was waving his hand in front of his face as if he had just smelled something rank.

Charlie swatted him. "Stuff it, prat. You don't smell exactly like flowers and sunshine in the morning." He walked up to the dining table, scratching his chest, his fingernails raking over a large tattoo of a Ukrainian Ironbelly's torso. The tail wrapped around his right shoulder, the body swept across his chest, bending around his waist. Its large head, mouth wide open and filled with pointed teeth, sat low on his hips. And Charlie's back was covered in fire coming from its mouth, an explosion of red, yellow, and orange swirls and waves.

Daphne let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's a tattoo!"

"Oh for goodness sake!" Molly slammed her wooden spoon on the counter. "When are you going to stop desecrating your body like this, Charlie?"

"When I stop working with dragons, Mum." He winked at her as he snagged a sandwich. "I've got to find something to cover up all my scars and burns so you don't worry about your precious baby doing his dangerous job."

Molly silently fumed as she set a glass of water in front of him.

"Merlin! How many is that now?" Ginny asked with disbelief. "Like twenty or something?"

"Try five, Gingersnap." He pointed to his various tattooed body parts. "The one on my arm here," he held up his right forearm, "one on my right shin. This large one, and two in places that I can't show either of you girls."

Daphne spluttered into her pumpkin juice.

The evening approached. Charlie, Fred and George departed after lunch, only offering that they would be back very soon. Molly, Daphne and Ginny finished cooking and cleaning. They laid out what felt like a hundred different dishes on their table; at one point, Ginny feared the old wood would crack under the weight.

"Mum, are we feeding a small army?"

"Or Hagrid?" Daphne eyed the table, astonished.

They soon got their answer when Charlie's Patronus, a Ukrainian Ironbelly, soared right up to them as they finished setting the table.

"All of our family's been gathered. We'll be there in five!"

Ginny was completely mystified as to who "their family" was.

"Mum, is Percy coming home by chance?"

She immediately regretted asking the question when she spied her mum's stricken face. "Unfortunately," Molly said, her voice barely breaking, "Percy still hasn't talked to us. We know he's okay, because your father and Bill do see him, but . . ." She shook her head and finished setting the table, pausing only once to wipe her eyes.

Before they knew it, the pops of Apparating wizards echoed from the woods surrounding the Burrow. Crookshanks bolted outside. The witches watched as he scurried on his short, stubby legs right up to the edge of the wards. They could barely hear him hiss into the darkness . . .

And then Ginny saw them.

A group of freckled, red-haired wizards, interspersed with ones covered in dark robes and hoods, broke through the wards. Leading the pack was Arthur Weasley. Charlie and Fred and George flanked the line.

"Mum? I know our family's big, but it's not that big. And where're Bill and Fleur?"

"Unfortunately, they couldn't make it, as much as I wanted them to. But we managed to gather as many of the surviving Weasleys as we could." She was smiling as she waved at their guests.

They walked inside, and the line mixed with hooded figures and freckled redheads followed the women back into the house. As soon as the door shut behind them, Arthur strode to the front of the room and faced their guests.

Ginny and Daphne stared at each other. "Do you know any of them?"

Ginny shook her head. "Never seen these people before in my life!"

Arthur clapped and rubbed his hands together. "All right. You lot checked the security and privacy charms around the Burrow?"

Fred and George both nodded. Charlie held his thumbs up.

"Well then, I guess it's time for introductions." Arthur grinned broadly at the new visitors.

There was a glimmer in the room, like water evaporating off a hot surface. Ginny and Daphne watched, their eyes bulging, as the guests seemed to change behind the rippling air. The unfamiliar faces of supposed long-lost relatives changed, their faces getting a little darker, their hair changing colour, and their bodies altering, shrinking shorter and growing taller, leaner and broader in shape.

Two figures who had been wearing cloaks and walking with limps like crones and hags dropped their hoods and smiled at the Weasleys.

And a witch whose hair changed from a fiery red to the most gaudy, brightest shade of fuchsia Ginny had ever seen waved at all of them.

"No!" Ginny screamed, her mouth dropping open, unable to say anything in her shocked but thrilled state.

There stood, in all their glory, the various members of the Order and friends of the Weasleys. Remus and Tonks, who was going into her fifth month of her pregnancy and was glowing so much she could've lit up all of London, Kingsley Shacklebolt standing next to a man that resembled him, a couple of older witches and wizards that Ginny didn't know.

She squealed even louder when she spied Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell.

"GODRIC!" She ran over to Katie and Angelina and threw her arms around them as the others shook hands and embraced each other.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ginny asked after she broke from them. "Lee?" She hugged her brothers' best friend. "Lee! I can't believe it!"

"Good to see you too, Gin!" He smiled at her.

But when she got a better look at her old friends, she noticed scars and bruises all over their faces and arms. Lee was missing a tooth, and there was a very prominent scar that ran from his cheek to his ear. Katie's arm was bandaged and Angelina's right cheek and ear were burned rather badly.

"Merlin! What in the world happened to you guys?"

"Oh this?" Angelina said, pointing nonchalantly at her face and smirking. "You should see the other bloke!"

Lee grinned. "I think that's the first time I've ever seen a Death Eater cry."

"What do you expect? She nailed him right in the crotch with a good Bludgeoning Hex!" Katie looked at Angelina triumphantly as Lee grimaced.

"You three look like you've been through a war zone!"

Lee stared at Ginny. "Er, we have been. Didn't you hear? We've got a bit of a war going on."

"I know, I know, I just didn't expect to see you guys so beat up."

Angelina regarded her other friends. "Honestly, Alicia's more banged up than we are."

"And Oliver would've been here, but he didn't want to leave her alone for the holidays," Katie said with a wink.

"Oliver and Alicia? For how long?"

"They haven't started anything yet," George came over, rolling his eyes, "Oliver's always been a prat about girls. Bloke thinks Quaffle means Quaffle, when there's actually a whole variety of meanings of the word!"

"Like what, Weasley?" Angelina looked like she was about to hex him, depending on his answer.

"Well, I can think of a couple of meanings, Ange." George waggled his eyebrows at her as Fred shook Lee's hand and wrapped Angelina and Katie in big hugs.

"He means breasts, Johnson."

"Yes, I got that!" She playfully punched Fred as Ginny laughed at the group of friends.

"Wotcher, Ginny."

Ginny twisted around and yelped. "Tonks!" She gave her friend a warm embrace.

"Oh, careful there." She patted her stomach. "Don't squish the peanut."

"That's right!" Ginny exclaimed, her hand clamping over her mouth. "How much longer?"

"We're due in April." Lupin bent down and gave Ginny a kiss on the top of her head. "Happy Christmas, Ginny." His smile fell a little. "Are you all right? How is Hogwarts go—"

Ginny cut him off with a hand. "Uh-uh. It's Christmas Eve. I just want to think happy things tonight."

Lupin smiled broadly. "That we can do."

Dinner was a boisterous affair, even though the Burrow was stretched to the limit. Kingsley, who had been on the run ever since the safe-house, had come with his brother Hermes, the man who had helped create the emergency Floo connections that were used by the Order members. The others that Ginny didn't know had various duties within the Order: former Aurors who were now helping the Order with the safe-houses, a couple of witches and wizards who aided in fighting dark wizards and creatures coming into England, ready to join You-Know-Who's ranks.

Bowls of food Floated across the table to waiting hands, and pitchers of drinks poured out into goblets, seemingly of their own accord.

"Cheers! To this one day," Arthur said, his voice booming over the party, "to making this Christmas a special one." His voice mellowed. "Our friends, our families, whether you are here, whether you are away, and whether you are watching us from the Great Beyond—"

He lifted his glass higher in the air.

"Happy Christmas, everyone!"

"Cheers!" Sips and small sniffles punctuated the chorus of exclamations. They sat their drinks down and the conversations turned to far funnier, sometimes rowdier matters.

Charlie was entertaining Arthur, Kingsley and Hermes with an inappropriate story of how he and several others on the dragon reserve helped with a very messy and dangerous egg-laying involving a female Longhorn.

"I'm serious! You've never lived until you see half your arm disappear right up a female dragon's—"

"CHARLES SEPTIMUS WEASLEY!!" Molly shouted over a din filled with guffaws and "Ew's!"

"What, Mum? There's medical validity in this conversation."

Lupin and Tonks distracted Molly by asking her a couple of questions about magical pregnancy and the birthing process.

Ginny and Daphne were trying to fend off the twins' and Lee's attempts to pester them. Ginny was about to properly introduce Daphne to the other two Gryffindor girls, when George cut in, doing it for her.

"Ah, Angie, Katie, I don't believe you've had the immense pleasure of meeting our favourite Slytherin."

Daphne glared at him. "Prat!"

"Oh, don't worry about her," George waved his hand at Daphne and smirked. "She doesn't bite."

"Most of the time." She turned to the Gryffindors. "They may have already told you," she said in a low voice, "but I'm Daphne Greengrass." She stuck her hand out across the table, barely missing a big pile of roasted potatoes. Angelina paused for a moment, apparently slightly hesitant about shaking her hand. But it passed, and she shook her head, extending her own hand to greet Daphne.

"Well, this is a first. Shaking a Slytherin's hand, and not a Quidditch match in sight. Angelina Johnson."

"Daphne's all right," Lee said through a mouthful of potatoes. He stabbed at his slice of meat, ripping it apart with his knife, and winked at the Slytherin. "Especially when she's giving the twins hell."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Those two are the bane of my existence!"

Angelina smirked. "Well, I can give you some ideas for revenge if you ever get fed up with those two idiots."

Daphne's eyes shifted over to the twins who were both engaged in a deep conversation about the shop. She turned back and nodded. "Hell - yes!"

"Count me in too," Katie added. "I've made it my life's achievement to give them as many problems as they've given me."

"We are talking about the twins, right?" Ginny threw her two Knuts into the conversation. "Because I'm bloody game."

"We know you're always game." Angelina said, grinning.

At some point in the evening, Charlie ended up next to Hermes at the Weasleys' antique piano. It seemed like they were singing Christmas carols at first, but when one listened closer to the lyrics—

"DECK MY BALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY!! FA-LA-LA-LA-LAH, LA LA LA LAAAH!!"

Lupin laughed and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Really. I thought Charlie could come up with a more clever variation."

"Chuckles always hammed it up for a crowd. One time, he and his Gryffindor mates lost a bet with me and a couple of other 'Puffs on a Quidditch game."

Ginny, Daphne, and even Lupin stared at Tonks, waiting for her to answer. "And?" both girls inquired simultaneously.

"They had to run starkers past McGonagall's office, through the Great Hall at dinner, and all around the courtyards and pond!"

"Ew! Yuck!" Ginny gagged. Daphne gave Charlie a shifty look, apparently ogling his lower body.

"Nice."

Ginny swatted her. "Greengrass, that's my brother!"

"I know. Still nice."

Tonks chortled. "Daphne, you need to cut back on the firewhiskey." The Slytherin frowned into her glass as she continued with her story. "They got detention for a month, although we teased Charlie that McGonagall only wanted to monitor them to get another glimpse of his bait and tackle."

Daphne and Lupin both laughed hysterically. Ginny shivered. Behind them, Charlie and Hermes started another immature variation of a Christmas carol.

"Mum'll kill him. She hates it when he does that to otherwise innocent songs."

"Ginny," Daphne said, pointing across the room, "I don't think your mum's exactly minding."

Across the room, Molly was laughing as she tried to fend off Arthur under a sprig of mistletoe. Molly lost, but she clearly didn't mind as her husband pulled her close to him, kissed her, and started swaying, dancing with his wife with a closed-eye blissful countenance on his face.

Ginny smiled at the moment reluctantly. "It's so wrong that I find that adorable." She shook her head as she took another sip of her drink, letting the festivities wash over her, allowing her to forget, for one night, the war, Hogwarts, and her sleepless nights.