Ginny had been a bundle of nerves all day. They were going home for Christmas today and GREG WAS COMING!
After taking entirely too long to make a decision, with multiple discussions about whether her parents would definitely not mind, and Ginny reassuring him over and over again that it was fine, and that the Weasley's always had people over for Christmas (after all Harry and Hermione were coming too), he had finally said yes.
So this morning, when they were all packed and ready to go, she had met up with him in the entrance hall, her stomach twisting and hands a little clammy, but also bursting with excitement about the prospect of spending more time with him.
They had shared a carriage to Hogsmeade Train Station with Ron and a very proud Luna, who was practically bouncing as she introduced Ron and Greg to her favourite thestral Mórrigan and explained that she'd been working very hard on teaching the young mare how to pull a carriage.
Ron had had a glazed sort of look about him, as he watched Luna interact with the beautiful creature, before complimenting her awkwardly on her hard work and nearly tripping over his own feet when he rushed to help her into the carriage. Ginny had to fight the urge to groan loudly and cover her face with both hands, feeling both embarrassed and disgusted by the fact that her bother was trying to flirt so clumsily with her best friend. But then she saw the way Luna's eyes lit up and a light blush swept across the bridge of her nose, as she took Ron's hand with a grateful smile; and all of a sudden, Ginny thought she might be able to get used to the thought of her brother dating the sweet Ravenclaw. After all, Ron had never made a big deal out of her dating Harry back in her 5th year, and with all they'd been through, she figured they all deserved a shot at happiness for once.
The journey from Hogsmeade to Kings Cross Station was a quiet affair. Ginny couldn't help but think that maybe all of them were more nervous about the upcoming holidays than they would have liked to admit. There was an air of uncertainty around them, that feeling of not knowing what to expect from their first Christmas after the war, that stifled their conversations and made them all jumpy and on edge. More than a few nervous glances were exchanged when a disembodied voice announced that they would arrive at Kings Cross in ten minutes, and by the time the train rolled into the station, Ginny's stomach was writhing with nervous energy. Except for Ron, she hadn't seen her family in months and she was both eager and worried at the same time to find out how they were doing.
She spotted her parents as soon as they stepped onto the platform, a sinking feeling settling in her chest as she took in their appearance. Arthur Weasley was still as tall and lanky as ever, his glasses slightly lopsided on his long nose and a kind expression in his bright blue eyes; but to Ginny, it was very obvious that the thinning hair on his head had grown a few shades lighter since she last saw him, the fiery red now streaked with ashen grey, and the lines on his forehead were much deeper too. His arm was wrapped tightly around the shoulders of a much slimmer looking Molly Weasley, whose normally big and curly hair looked rather flat, and the usual glow she had about her, that always made the apples of her cheeks a rosy red, had been replaced by a pale, pasty complexion.
They looked… broken. But despite the obvious signs of grief and heartache, they both sported bright, genuine smiles as they spotted their children; and for the first time since they had left Hogwarts Ginny's heart bloomed with warmth, as her mother pulled them all into bone crushing hugs, before going about her usual fussing and the inevitable nagging that they had all grown too much and didn't eat enough.
"You must be Gregory!" Her mother boomed as she spotted the tall wizard behind Ginny and pulled him into a hug, too. "It's so lovely of you to join us for the holidays."
"See?" Ginny muttered to a stunned looking Greg. "I told you it'll be fine."
"What's this?" Molly asked, patting the young wizard's cheek and fixing his scarf.
"Oh nothing, mum." Ginny grinned. "It's just that Greg was a bit worried he might be intruding on our family Christmas."
"Oh, nonsense!" her mother exclaimed. "It'll be lovely to have a full house again, won't it Arthur?"
"Absolutely!" Her father jumped in, giving Greg a friendly handshake. "It has been too quiet these past few months."
After that, they all made their way towards the apparition point and her dad offered to side-along Gregory, since he had never been to the Burrow before.
By the time they had all arrived and had been ushered into a warm, and delicious smelling kitchen by Molly, Greg looked thoroughly overwhelmed. His eyes had grown wide and were darting around the crowded Weasley home as if they were trying to take everything in at once, and his posture was stiff and slightly hunched over, as if he was trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable.
"Mum…" Ginny spoke up, as she walked over and took the Slytherin's hand. "Can I go and show Greg his room? It's been a long day and I think we're all a bit tired."
"Oh of course, dear." Molly affirmed "I made up Bill's old room for him. He and Fleur won't be joining us until Christmas Eve, so he'll have the room all to himself."
Ginny nodded to indicate that she had understood and led Greg upstairs, where she pushed him into a small room on the third floor and pulled the door shut behind them.
"You okay?" She asked, a rush of anxiety coursing through her as she took in the wizard's pale face.
"Yeah." He huffed. "It's just… different."
"If by different you mean crammed and chaotic and… loud, then yeah, it is." Ginny said, feeling insecure all of a sudden. She assumed that, like most purebloods, Greg had probably grown up in a giant Manor with great big rooms and fancy décor; and a whole team of house-elves to keep it clean. "I'm sorry…" she added. "I should have probably warned you. It's a mess and there's no room and –"
"No." Greg cut in, and Ginny's words got caught in her throat as he took a step towards her and put a reassuring hand on her cheek. "It's nice. It's just… not what I'm used to. But I like it."
Ginny swallowed, unable to speak, and nodded; before raising her hand up to his and giving it a grateful squeeze.
"So…" Greg said after a moment, as he turned around and took in his surroundings. "this is your brother's old room?" He asked, his eyes lingering on a rather gruesome poster of an old hag that had sprouted several extra limbs from her chest.
"Err… yes. My oldest brother Bill." Ginny confirmed, before adding an amused "He works as a curse breaker for Gringotts and has always been fascinated with dark curses. The gorier the better, really."
She snickered at the slightly awed expression on Greg's face and wandered over to a large bookshelf on the other side of the room. "Word of advice," She said, pulling out a book with the title 'The Monster Within: An Accurate Depiction of Life under the Maledictus Curse' and lifting it up for Gregory to see. "Don't read any of Bill's books before you want to eat… or sleep… or… enjoy life in general."
Greg's face split into a wide grin and he huffed out a small laugh, before taking a few strides towards her. "What…" he said, taking the book out of her hand and placing it neatly back onto the shelf. "You think a few measly curses will scare me?"
His expression was teasing, and suddenly the air between them shifted, as he towered over her, his hand still resting on the bookshelf next to her head. Ginny's head began to swim, as she found herself trapped between the tall shelf and his broad, firm body, and all of a sudden it was impossible for her to form a coherent, let alone witty, response. He was so close - too close – and all she could do was to stare up at him, an onslaught of butterflies in her stomach, as he leaned in to speak directly into her ear. "Don't underestimate me, Red." He purred, a raspy, almost sultry sound. "I'm not that easy to get rid of. You'll have to think of something much nastier if you're trying to scare me off."
There was a short moment, just a fraction of a second, where his gaze dropped to Ginny's lips, and her breath hitched in response, but before she could react to it, the moment had passed and Greg took a step back, a lighter, almost conversational tone in his voice when he spoke again. "So…" he said, quirking a quizzical eyebrow at her. "When do I get to see your room?"
"Uhm…" Ginny shook her head, dazed, before she cleared her throat and reluctantly tore her gaze from him. "Later." She promised, heat creeping into her cheeks. "We should get back downstairs. Dinner will be ready in a minute."
Dinner was rather quiet. Everyone was exhausted and far too busy enjoying Molly's home cooked meal to talk much. It wasn't until much later, when they had all finished their deserts and had retired to the living room with steaming cups of cocoa in their hands, that Arthur spoke up.
"Now tell me Gregory." He said in a hushed sort of tone, his gaze flickering nervously over to the other side of the room, where Hermione was currently watching Harry lose spectacularly against Ron in a heated game of Wizard's Chess. "Have you ever heard of a muggle machine called the motorcycle?"
Greg's eyebrows shot up in surprise and his answer was more of a question than a statement when he stuttered "I…err…I have?"
"Fantastic." Arthur beamed, as he scooted closer on the three-seater sofa; an excited gleam in his eyes. "So, on a scale of one to fifty-eight, …how much, do you reckon, you know about them?"
"Err…" Greg's face grew more confused by the second, and he shook his head lightly before he answered. "M 'fraid not much."
Arthur's face fell. "Ah… Pity." he sighed, rubbing a hand over his shiny forehead. "You see, I am working on a little Christmas present for Harry." He cast another cautious glance over to the raven-haired boy before continuing in a whisper "Which happens to involve his godfather's old motorcycle. It got damaged during the war, you see? Well…it was blasted to smithereens really, but anyway, I have managed to recover all the parts from Andromeda's garden and have put them all back together. It's a 1954 Vincent Black Shadow. Ever heard of that before? It's a real beauty. I have managed to find a replacement for the ignition switch and smoothed out any lumps and bumps in the framework. The front fork was rather bent too, but with a little bit of magic, the thing is as good as new. The only problem is I cannot get it to start."
He looked expectantly at Greg and Ginny had to stifle a snort when she spotted the stunned expression on the younger wizard's face. If she had to guess, she'd say he probably hadn't understood a word of what her father had just said. Taking pity on him, she took a few steps towards the sofa and cleared her throat.
"Dad." She interrupted, letting herself drop into the seat between her father and the confused looking wizard. "Greg's family is quite… uhm… traditional." She gave Arthur a meaningful look. "I don't think they would have shown much interest in muggle machines."
"Ah, well, yes. But so were the Blacks." Arthur countered, his eyes twinkling knowingly from behind his spectacles. "And then there was Sirius, who was a Black by birth, but was almost as fascinated with the muggle culture as your old man here. You know, I still remember when he bought that motorcycle. Said it was his most treasured possession as far as material things go." His mouth tilted into a reminiscing smile, before he winked at Greg and added "We don't all turn out to be like our parents, do we?"
At that moment Ginny had to fight the urge to throw herself into her father's arm and kiss him on the cheek. It wasn't like she had been particularly worried about her family being mean or judgmental towards the quiet Slytherin, but to hear her father be so open and welcoming, filled her with so much warmth and happiness that she thought her heart was going to burst any second.
She beamed up at Greg, as she snuggled up against her father's shoulder and squeezed his arm gratefully. Arthur returned her affection with a soft smile, before he continued his rather one-sided conversation about motorbikes; until Harry heard him mention Sirius' name from across the room, and they all joined to listen to Arthur's fascinating tales about Sirius biking adventures as a young man, and how his reckless driving used to constantly get him into trouble with the Muggle police.
They all sat and listened until late into the night; and it wasn't until the fire in the hearth had almost gone out, and Ginny couldn't stifle her yawns anymore, that Molly insisted that it was time for bed and ushered them all upstairs.
Ginny stopped on the first floor, only briefly pulling Greg into a hug to wish him goodnight, before she trudged into her room and fell into her bed, a big smile on her face.
Everything was going great – much better than she had anticipated, really – and she couldn't wait to see where the next two weeks would take them.