A/N: This one's angsty, folks! Day 4 is "wrapping presents" - enjoy!
Christmas this year, Ginny knows, is going to be much more subdued than normal. With Ron, Hermione, and Harry on the run from the Ministry, Percy snubbing the family, and Charlie stuck outside Britain, the Burrow is going to feel, well, roomy compared to Christmases past.
Catching herself staring off into space for the third time in a quarter of an hour, Ginny shakes her head and returns her gaze to the table before her. She is wrapping gifts by hand, no magic, even though her mum had smiled warmly at her and told her, "use your wand if you want, no harm done," but Ginny can't bring herself to hurry this. She wants to take her time, to use her hands, to feel the paper crinkle under her fingertips and tie ribbons by hand. Using magic for this feels cheap, somehow, like she doesn't care about the gifts or the recipients as much, and oh, how she cares.
She looks down at the three jumpers on the table. Maroon, blue, and emerald green, three sweaters for the three people she misses most right now. Ginny reaches out and stokes the fabric: maroon for Ron, because as much as he protests, he would never wear anything else; blue for Hermione, because she is the sister Ginny always wanted and Merlin himself would have to stop Molly Weasley from including Hermione in the Weasley family; and green for Harry, to match the eyes that stared in Ginny's all those months ago, eyes filled with pain so many times, eyes that haunt Ginny's dreams.
With a start, Ginny realizes that she has tears in her eyes. She shakes her head briskly and reaches for the scissors. "Pull yourself together, Weasley," she mutters to herself, "and just wrap the damn presents."
Rather sharply, she slices through the wrapping and applies Spell-o-Tape. The paper wrinkles a bit under her aggressive folding, but Ginny ignores this. She also ignores the fact that she is ignoring the wrinkles because these presents, most likely, will remain wrapped come Christmas morning. Ginny grits her teeth, slams her hand onto the table next to the packages. "Don't you dare think that, Ginerva Weasley," she tells herself firmly. "They are coming back, if not this year, then next."
Ginny ties off the last ribbon on Harry's wrapped jumper, stacks the three wrapped gifts, and carries them to the tree in the family room. Carefully, almost tenderly, she kneels and arranges the gifts under the tree. She places them right in the front. "See?" she whispers past the lump in her throat, "I believe they're coming back.