Author's Note: Okay, so I lied. This ISN'T the last chapter.
Chapter Thirteen
"Harry!"
The instant Harry stepped through the doors of the Burrow, he was swept up in a bone-crushing embrace. He had to fight the instinct to flinch away from the unexpected touch, but he relaxed once Mrs. Weasley's loving, motherly warmth completely encompassed him. He could hear Mrs. Weasley softly sniffling against his shoulder as she stroked her fingers through the back of his hair. It must have been a good five minutes before she finally stepped back and let him breathe.
"You are far, far too thin, dear," she said, her eyes puffy and red as she rubbed his shoulders. "How about a snack before tea time?"
Harry just smiled softly, having expected a reaction along these lines. He'd allowed Ginny to inform her parents and brothers about what was going on a few days prior to their arrival. It seemed easier to do it that way than to randomly drop the bomb on them the day before Christmas.
"Perhaps just a cup of tea?" Harry replied, feeling a bit too nauseated to eat.
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, stroking his cheek, "but you better eat something later."
Harry chuckled. "I will, I promise."
After Mrs. Weasley bustled away, Mr. Weasley approached him and settled a warm hand on his shoulder. "Doing alright there, Harry?"
"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied with a smile. "I am a bit tired from the train ride, though."
"Would you like to have a bit of a lie down?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she got the kettle ready. "I'll come get you when supper is ready."
The offer was quite tempting, so Harry nodded. "I just might do that."
"Harry's like a cat now," Ron teased. "He sleeps about 18 hours a day. At least."
"Only when your snoring isn't keeping me awake," Harry retorted with a grin.
"Sounds like Ronnie-kins," George laughed as he entered the kitchen. "I swear, he's woken the whole bloody house a few times."
When Harry's eyes landed on George's face, it brought back images of Fred lying dead in the rubble, with his cold, lifeless eyes staring up at him. With a horrified gasp, Harry staggered away from George, nearly knocking a chair over in the process. Silence fell over the kitchen as everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Harry with uncertainty. Harry just stood there, frozen and shaking.
'Breathe, breathe, focus on breathing.'
Taking in deep breaths, Harry focused all of his attention on the way the air felt entering and leaving his lungs. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. It was the only thing he could do. Slowly, his trembling eased and the horrible visions started to fade away. Mind slightly clearer, he blinked a few times and remembered where he was. He was home. The very solid feel of the floor underneath his feet and the very real presence of his friends assured him of that fact.
Feeling calmer now, Harry made himself smile and walk over to George.
"Hey, mate, good to see you," he said as he grabbed George by the arm and pulled him into a brotherly hug.
"You too, Harry," George replied, tightening the embrace.
That one simple action told Harry exactly what George was feeling. The lone twin was losing another brother and he was hurting deeply over it. Harry wished there was some way to end all of this sorrow. If only he could draw all of the sadness into his body and take it to the grave with him. That way it could never touch anyone he cared about again.
When George pulled back, he had his trademark grin plastered on his face. "So, please tell me you've been making Ron's life hell by having him do things for you."
"If anything, he's been making my life hell," Harry laughed. "He practically kidnaps me and keeps me hostage in the infirmary."
"Well, if you'd just take yourself there, then it wouldn't be necessary!" Ron huffed.
George looked beyond amused. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ron acts responsibly."
"I know, it concerned me at first too," Hermione added in with a grin.
Ron crossed his arms. "Why is it every time you lot get together, I'm always getting ganged up on?"
"Because you're the easiest target, little bro," George said, ruffling Ron's hair.
Ron just glowered at the action and attempted to fix the mess George had made of his hair.
"Ron, George, why don't you take Harry's things upstairs for him?" Mrs. Weasley said as she returned with a cup of steaming tea.
"Oh, I can do that, I don't mind," Harry said quickly.
"Nonsense, you sit down," Mrs. Weasley ordered as she pointed to a chair. "You look dead on your feet as is."
Knowing better than to argue with her, Harry obediently sat down and grinned apologetically at Ron and George. Mrs. Weasley smiled in approval and set a cup of milky tea down in front of him. Grabbing it and taking a sip, Harry enjoyed the way the liquid pooled in his stomach like a warm embrace, quelling his nausea. Just like Hermione, Mrs. Weasley knew exactly how Harry took his tea.
"Is there anything you'd like me to do, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked after Ron and George left the kitchen.
"Well, you could help me prepare supper," Mrs. Weasley answered. "Bill, Percy and Charlie will be arriving by floo later tonight. We can start decorating the tree then."
"Oh! Sounds lovely," Hermione said cheerily.
"By the way, Harry," Mr. Weasley turned to him. "We've finished getting the floo connection set up with Hogwarts. You'll be able to travel back and forth to your treatments without issue."
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, though feeling slightly guilty. "I'm really sorry if it was too much trouble on your part."
"It's no trouble at all," Mr. Weasley waved off his concerns. "We want to make sure you have everything you need."
Harry knew he shouldn't have felt as bad as he did. The Weasleys always treated him with kindness and seemed happy to help out, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was inconveniencing them. For as long as he could remember, he'd had the habit of apologizing for things that didn't need apologizing for, and never asking for help even when he really needed it. The Dursleys had tried to instill a sense of worthlessness into him, and had always treated him like he was less than nothing. The Weasleys, however, treated him like he was worth everything.
To them, he was family.
Draining the last bit of tea from his cup, Harry set it down and rubbed at his eyes. Despite it being only late afternoon, he was beyond exhausted.
"Alright, dear, upstairs with you," Mrs. Weasley said as gathered up the empty cup. "We've already got a bed made up for you in Ron's room."
Harry nodded and started to rise from his chair. As soon as he was on his feet, he was hit with a rushing dizziness and his vision went completely black. When he started wobbling, Hermione immediately grabbed hold of his arm and kept him steady. Harry's hand clenched Hermione's jumper so hard that it was shaking. It took several minutes of deep breathing before Harry's vision finally cleared and he no longer felt on the verge of collapse.
"I think I'll help Harry get upstairs," Hermione said as she rubbed his back.
Mrs. Weasley nodded, watching Harry with concern. "That's a good idea. Just be careful."
They went at a nice, slow pace as Hermione helped Harry out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He'd only made it about halfway up before his legs tried to buckle underneath him. Thankfully, Hermione had been able to bear most of his weight and helped him up the last few steps.
Finally making it to Ron's room, Harry collapsed on his bed, panting heavily and sweating profusely. Hermione removed his glasses for him and conjured a glass of water to keep at his beside.
"If you need anything, we'll all be just downstairs," Hermione said softly.
Harry watched her blurry figure leave the room and his heavy eyes slowly closed. Everything swam into complete darkness.
xxxxx
When Harry awoke, it was to a gentle hand shaking him. He opened his bleary eyes and looked around, taking a few moments to remember where was. The light streaming into the room suggested that it was the next morning. He must have slept the entire night through. He fumbled around for his glasses and then looked up at the person above him.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," Ginny whispered softly.
Harry smiled and slowly pushed himself up. "Happy Christmas, Gin."
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Alright," Harry replied groggily. He felt like he could have easily slept another ten hours.
"Everyone's waiting downstairs," Ginny informed. "Do you want to come down?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, standing up.
Reaching out, Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and interlocked their fingers. Together, they walked down the stairs (which had been much easier than going up them) and were greeted by the entire Weasley family plus Hermione sitting in the lounge.
"Harry!" Charlie called jovially, striding over to him and wrapping him in a big embrace. When he let go of him, he gave him a once over and grinned. "You're looking fit."
Harry laughed. "I feel fit."
Bill came over next, also giving him a hug. "Alright, Harry?"
"No too bad," Harry said, then looked around. "Where's Fleur?"
"Oh, she's with her parents today," Bill replied. "She sends her love, though."
Harry thought it was quite nice of Fleur to think of him like that. He just hoped he'd have a chance to see her before he went back to school.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," Percy greeted as he approached Harry last.
"Happy Christmas, Percy," Harry returned, holding his hand out for the usual handshake.
Percy grabbed his hand, but to Harry's surprise, he was pulled into another embrace. Harry stood stunned for a second or two before finally wrapping his arms around the other man in return. There was definitely something different about Percy - he no longer carried the same stuck-up, know-it-all air he used to. Harry figured it had something to do with the war and Fred dying.
'We've all changed a little bit.'
"I hope you don't mind that we decorated the tree without you, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said as he and Percy broke apart. "We tried to wake you last night but you were so exhausted you couldn't be stirred. Poor thing."
Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and smiled. "That's alright."
"It's a very fine tree, if I do say so myself," Mr. Weasley said, admiring their handiwork.
Walking over to the tree, Harry looked over all of the ornaments decorating the branches. Some of them were obviously magical (there was a Santa Claus flying a sled around the tree) but others looked like ordinary muggles ones. He'd bet anything they'd been Mr. Weasley's idea. When his eyes landed on a small, oval picture frame hanging on one of the middle branches, Harry looked closer at the moving photograph inside. It was one of him, Hermione and Ron from two Christmases ago. They were all wearing silly Christmas hats and grinning goofily at the camera. He remembered that day so clearly, yet it felt like it'd happened ages ago. Chest feeling tight, he turned away.
"Well, if everyone's ready," Mr. Weasley suddenly announced, clapping his hands together. "Shall we start opening presents?"
Everyone readily agreed and gathered around the Christmas tree. Harry munched on a Christmas cookie as he watched the others exchange gifts. There weren't that many, considering they'd all agreed not to really buy each other gifts that year. Harry hadn't wanted his last Christmas to be focused on pointless gifts; he just wanted to spend it with his friends. He did get his Weasley jumper, though. It was extra big and extra thick, exactly what he needed.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said happily, putting it on right there.
"No worries, dear," she replied, patting him on the back. "Merlin knows, you need some warmer clothes."
Harry didn't disagree with that. He'd spent most of the winter so far freezing his arse off. It was one of the drawbacks of being around a stone underweight and constantly ill.
When all of the gifts were opened, everyone headed into the kitchen for some of Mrs. Weasley's hot cocoa. Before they could follow, Harry stopped Ron and Hermione.
"Can I talk to you guys alone for a few?"
"Sure, Harry," Ron said, frowning worriedly. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I just didn't want to do this in front of everyone else," Harry replied.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded towards the stairs. "Let's go up to Ron's room."
They headed up the stairs, with Hermione in the lead and Ron directly behind him - a precaution in case Harry suddenly fell. He was pleased to discover that the journey up hadn't been nearly as difficult as it'd been the previous night. When they made it to Ron's room, Harry walked over to his bag and rummaged around for a moment before procuring three items.
"I know we said no gifts," Harry said, turning back to them. "But these aren't really Christmas gifts."
In his hands he held his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, and the photo album Hagrid had given him his first year. It was clear that Ron and Hermione understood what he was doing, because their eyes widened and started filling with tears. This was something he'd been contemplating doing for a long while, he'd just never worked up the courage to do it until now. It'd felt like he was somehow finalizing his dying. It was inevitable, though, and it was important that he do this while he was still alive. He wanted his most prized possessions to go to his most important people.
"Ron, I want you to have the Marauder's Map," Harry said, holding it out to him. "Considering all of the mischief we've gotten into together, it only seems right it go to you."
Ron was silent as he took the map with trembling hands, fingers tracing over the words printed on the front. Harry could tell that Ron was recalling some of the numerous adventures they'd had together. Even though their school years had been marred by many tragic events, there were still plenty of good memories. Harry wanted to make sure his friends held onto those as much as possible.
Taking a deep breath, Harry turned to Hermione next. "Hermione, I want you to have my Invisibility Cloak."
"Oh, Harry, are you sure?" Hermione said, her eyes turning glossy with tears. "It was your father's."
"I can't think of anyone I'd trust more with it," Harry smiled, handing her the shimmering garment. "If you and Ron ever have children, make sure to pass it down to them."
Hermione took the cloak and clutched it carefully to her chest, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"I'll take good care of it, Harry," she promised.
Harry nodded and held out the photo album last. "I want both of you to keep this."
Out of all of the things he owned, Harry cherished this the most. Over the years, he'd filled the remaining pages with various photos of himself, his friends and the Weasleys. In the past, he'd used the album as a means of filling the emptiness that came from his parents' absence. Ron and Hermione would be able to do the same with it.
Ron quietly flipped through the photo album and stopped at a picture of them from the end of their first year. He stared down at it for a moment before suddenly snapping the album closed, tossing it onto the bed and grabbing Harry into a fierce hug. Harry didn't even care that he couldn't breathe, he just wrapped his arms around Ron in return and gripped him tightly. Hermione joined in and the three of them just stood there, embracing for what felt like eternity; but still not long enough.
Breaking apart, they wiped away their tears and sat down on the bed to continue looking through the photo album. The remainder of the morning was spent recounting tales, and teasing each other over how young and ridiculous they looked.
To Harry, it was the perfect Christmas.