Another long and emotional one, because I just can't help myself...
But the next couple of chapters will solely focus on Ginny and Greg, so get ready for some spice! ;)
Mild TW for grief/loss, although we're doing a lot of healing/overcoming in this chapter.
ooo
The morning after the Yule Ball had been slow and rather quiet as the habitants of the Burrow slowly trickled into the Weasley kitchen, each of them looking tired and rather dishevelled, but in exceptionally high spirits, as they congregated around the large kitchen table. The night before had been a late one; with some of them staying out until way past midnight, while the rest of them had waited for them at home. At some point (Ginny had a vague recollection that it had been with Charlie's arrival) the cups of cocoa had turned into glasses of wine and bottles of beer, as they all sat together, talked and laughed and relived the events of the evening. They had all been at different stages of inebriation when they had finally gone to bed, and some of them were obviously suffering the consequences the next morning, as they quietly ate the hearty breakfast that Mrs Weasley had so lovingly prepared.
It was almost 11am, when Harry and Ron traipsed into the room, both looking a little worse for wear, but each of them sporting lopsided grins.
"Great night, last night, wasn't it?" Ron yawned, dropping into the seat across from Ginny and Greg, and reaching for the teapot.
"The best." Harry sighed happily, pushing his mug towards Ron, who smirked as he filled it.
"Absolutely." The redhead agreed, nodding animatedly, as he leaned forward to steal a piece of toast from Ginny's plate.
"What put you two in such a good mood?" She asked, swatting Ron's fingers and glaring at him warningly, when all of a sudden realisation hit her and her eyes grew wide.
"Holy shit!" Ginny gasped, searching their faces with raised eyebrows. "Did you two get laid?"
"Ginevra!" Molly chided.
"What!?" Ginny retorted "Just look at them, mum! They're like a pair of love-drunk puppies!"
"You're just jealous, 'cause we had fun last night." Ron piped up.
"I've had plenty of fun, thank you very much." Ginny clipped, adding a mental 'until we were rudely interrupted.'
"If you say so." Ron shrugged, looking like he didn't believe a word.
Ginny opened her mouth, ready to hurl an angry retort at him, when she felt the press of Greg's hand on her thigh in a warning squeeze and sucked in a sharp breath, desperately trying not to squirm. Ever since the night before, there was this charged energy between them, this throbbing, aching feeling of desire that had settled somewhere deep within her core and just wouldn't go away. There was no denying it. She wanted him. Desperately. And yes, maybe she was a spiteful bitch for it, but the thought of everyone else getting lucky last night, while she had been forced to wait until she was all alone in her bed, so she could slip her fingers below the hem of her knickers and give herself some much needed relief, irked her to say the least.
Inhaling deeply, she held her breath for several seconds, before letting it back out in a slow and steady stream, her nostrils flaring slightly as she forced her lips into a polite, but very stiff smile.
"I'm sorry." She said, trying for a light and conversational tone. "I didn't mean to sound judgmental, I was just curious, because you both look happy."
"We are." Harry confirmed, a little red in his face as he smiled back at her.
"And that's all we really need to know, isn't it boys?" Arthur cut in, winking at them conspiringly, before turning to his wife. "Molly dear, the breakfast is absolutely wonderful, thank you. It's exactly what we all needed after such a long and eventful night, isn't it children?"
Ginny rolled her eyes at her father's not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject, but eventually conceded. "Yes, mum. It's lovely. Thank you."
ooo
The rest of the morning was rather uneventful. They were all still tired and mostly just lazing around.
At some point Bill and Fleur arrived with a stack of muggle Pizza boxes and the latest copy of Witch Weekly, which was sporting a rather unflattering photo on the front page of Harry dancing clumsily with Pansy the previous night. The accompanying article, courtesy of Marietta Edgecombe, depicted Harry in a similarly bad light, and they all sat and listened with amusement as Bill read, about how Harry had clearly turned over to the dark side by taking no other than 'Pansy Parkinson, daughter of the renowned Death-Eater Percival Parkinson', on a ball that was solely held to remember those that had lost their lives to the war, implying heavily that Pansy's father might have personally killed some of them.
By the end of the article, Harry's cheeks had turned an impressive shade or red, but despite it all, he looked rather pleased with himself, when Ron gave him a clap on the shoulder and mumbled through a mouth full of pizza "They're loo-hing 'heir touch, don' you 'hink?" he swallowed with an audible gulp, then added "If that's the worst they can do, then you have nothing to worry about."
At that point the wards around the Burrow went off and the mood in the small living room changed instantly, as heads raised and wands were drawn. It wasn't really necessary to have wards around the house anymore; not now that the war was over... but old habits die hard and none of them had fully recovered from all the trauma they had been through, so the Weasley's had only adjusted their wards to let more people in, but never fully removed them. And that meant, that whoever had just entered the property wasn't considered part of their inner circle.
"Are we expecting anyone, mother?" Percy asked, his posture rigid as he gripped his wand a little tighter.
Everyone turned to look at Molly and Ginny's stomach dropped as she saw her mother's face go pale. "I don't think so." She whispered, casting a searching look at her husband, who shook his head.
Charlie instantly jumped up, his wand so tightly in his hand that his knuckles stood out white, and walked over to the window to peer out into the front yard.
"Blimey." He breathed after a moment, as his expression morphed from concern to relief and finally settled on outright glee. "I can't believe it."
"What?" Ginny asked, getting up herself to join her brother at the window. "Who is it?"
Out on the untidy path that led up to the Burrow's front door were four figures, and it took Ginny exactly three seconds to recognise one of them. – gaunt and still unusually pale, but with a good amount of fiery red stubble growing on his previously shaved head.
"George." Ginny breathed, her heart lurching as she watched the pale wizard gesture at the other three to follow him, a nervous look on his face as he took a step towards the front door. "Mum! It's George!"
Gasps echoed around the living room, as everyone turned to look at Molly, who clapped her hand to her mouth, a strangled noise escaping from her lips as tears began to well up in her eyes.
"It can't be…" she whispered, but before anyone else could react they heard the distinct noise of the front door opening, and a familiar voice called: "Hello! Anyone home?"
The room went completely silent when George finally walked in; so silent that Ginny would have heard a pin drop, as they all stared at George as if he was a Hippogriff.
The pale wizard shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of their eyes, before turning to his mother, a shy, somewhat guilty expression on his face as he muttered "Hi, mum."
"Oh Georgie!" Molly sobbed, as she finally jumped up and stormed towards her son, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Err…Yeah." George said gruffly. "Me too." He patted his mother's back soothingly, then added: "I'm sorry it's been so long."
"Oh, well, you're here now. That's all that counts." Molly sniffled audibly, as she pulled back and placed a motherly hand on his cheek. "Welcome home, darling."
After that they all got up to greet him, showering him with hugs and brotherly pats on the shoulder.
"But who else is here?" Charlie asked after punching George's shoulder affectionately. He jerked his head towards the window. "The wards went off and we saw you arrive with three people."
"Ah… yes." George said, looking rather sheepish. "I should probably explain all that. Please, if you could all take a seat."
He pried himself out of Hermione's embrace and took a step back to lean against the sideboard behind him. At first glance his posture looked casual and relaxed, but Ginny got the distinct impression that the only reason he was leaning against the piece of furniture was, because he needed something to hold onto as he waited for everyone to settle down.
"So…" He began, casting a nervous look around the room, before his eyes locked with Ginny's. "It's about something you made me realise the other day… I… well, I think I needed a good kick in the arse, if I'm honest."
"What?" Molly asked, looking confused. "Who are you…?"
"Ginny." George explained, his eyes still firmly locked with hers. "She came to visit me at the shop the other day."
"But you didn't tell us you saw him!" Molly piped up, but Ginny only shook her head, unwilling to break eye contact with her brother, as her eyes began to burn and she could feel a thick lump form in her throat.
"Yeah, well, she's always up to no good that one." George said fondly, offering her a weak, but loving smile. He sucked in a shaky breath, swallowed, and then gave a small, knowing nod, as he added: "Freddie and I taught her well."
At that Ginny's eyes finally spilled over and the first tears began to fall from her lashes, as she was overcome with such a huge wave of emotions, she thought she might drown. Wiping furiously at her tears, she let out a small sniffle, as she fought the urge to get up and throw herself into her brother's arms, because there was no doubt in her mind, that if she did, she would dissolve into a sobbing mess.
It wasn't until she felt a warm hand on her thigh, heavy and reassuring, as it rubbed soothingly across the coarse fabric of her trousers, that the knot in her chest finally loosened enough for her to breathe again. Exhaling shakily, she shot a quick sideways glance at the wizard beside her. Greg wasn't looking at her, but his gaze was soft and, despite being directed at the floor in front of him, incredibly tender, as his hand gave her leg another squeeze that clearly stated 'I'm here for you'. Ginny let out another sniffle, as she placed her shaking fingers on the back of his hand, causing him to instantly flip it up-side-down and interlock his fingers wit hers.
"Anyway…" George said, drawing Ginny's attention back to him. "The reason I'm here, is because Ginny reminded me of something."
He pulled a small box out of his pocket and placed it on the sideboard next to him, before tapping it twice with his wand to charm it back to its original size. Ginny's eyebrows furrowed as she recognised the ornate box that, she knew, held the expensive set of Quidditch balls in it.
"Alright, you guys can come in now!" George yelled over his shoulder, and if they had all been a little confused before, it was nothing compared to the bewildered looks on their faces as three people walked into the room and stood next to George.
"Oliver?" Harry asked, being the first to recognise his former Quidditch captain. "What are you…?"
Ginny's mind began to race. Next to Oliver Wood was Angelina Johnson, former Quidditch player for the Gryffindor House team, and on George's other side was Lee Jordan, who used to serve as Quidditch Commentator during his time at Hogwarts and was one of Fred and George's very best friends.
"I want to do something in Fred's memory." George began to explain. "And, while we all know how much he loved to play pranks on people…and believe me, I have thought about coming up with something crazy and unhinged that would make the old trickster proud." He smirked. "But I'll save that for another time. For now, I think I want to focus on his other big love in life." He looked around the room, expectant; but when no one reacted he let out a deep sigh and carried on. "I'm talking about Quidditch! A Christmas Quidditch match to be more specific. Something fun and maybe a little reckless to remember him by."
A deafening silence fell upon the room as they all gaped at George, the meaning of his words only slowly sinking in.
It was Ron, who broke the silence first.
"That's…" He said, eyes round as dinner plates. "A brilliant idea! Honestly…fantastic! You can count me in!"
"Yeah, me too!" Charlie agreed "Fred would have loved this."
George grinned broadly as everyone else in the room nodded their assent.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "So what do you say? Weasley's against the rest of you lot!" He offered up, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Alright… Charlie, you'll be our seeker… Bill, I'm gonna need you to play Beater with me; Ron, Keeper, …which leaves Ginny, Percy and Fleur as Chasers." He paused briefly to wink at Fleur and added a quick "You've got the Weasley name now, so you're playing as one of us." Before turning back to the rest of the room. "Right… Harry! I'm appointing you as captain of the opposing team. Pick your players."
Harry's tongue flicked out to wet his lips, before they split into a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with competitive glee.
"Oh, you guys have no chance!" He boasted, jumping up and turning around to look at the rest of them. "Okay… Oliver, you're keeper of course; Greg and Lee, I want to try you two as Beaters, which means Angelina, Audrey and Hermione, you'll be Chasers, …and I'll obviously be Seeker."
"You… want me to play?" Hermione interjected, looking rather pale. "Do… do you think that's a good idea, Harry?"
"Yes!" Percy agreed "Some of us aren't very good on brooms. Are you sure about this?"
"Well, yeah." Harry replied. "Without you we won't have enough players."
Hermione chewed on her lip for several seconds, as her features reenacted the internal battle she was currently fighting. But then her gaze wandered over to George, and her expression grew determined. "Okay." She said, nodding stoically. "But if I fall, I'll blame you George Weasley, do you hear me?"
George's mouth split into a wide grin, and it was such a painfully familiar sight that Ginny's heart skipped several beats, as she watched her brother huff out a laugh and shrug nonchalantly.
"Worth the risk." He said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he summoned the set of Quidditch balls and turned around.
"Well, come on, everyone. Chop chop!" he yelled over his shoulder as he turned around and started walking towards the door. "Off to the broom shed we go. I call dibs on Harry's Firebolt."
"No, you're bloody not!" Harry exclaimed, rushing after the redhead with a wild sparkle in his eyes.
There was some general rustling of robes and quiet muttering as everyone else got up and followed them; and Ginny shot a questioning look at Greg, before she got up and gestured for him to follow her. Greg looked a little apprehensive at first, but then shrugged, before he got up and they both walked outside into the muddy courtyard of the Weasley home.
ooo
The first ever Weasleys vs 'The rest of you lot" Christmas Quidditch Match didn't last very long. It took Ginny approximately ten seconds after mounting her broom and shooting up into the air to realise that, despite the pale winter sun hanging high up in the sky, the temperatures were rather unforgiving, and despite them all flitting around like cannon balls, and sweating profusely, she soon wasn't able to feel her fingers and cheeks anymore.
By the time Harry caught the Snitch after a rather spectacular race though the thicket of the apple orchard with Charlie; which ended the game at only forty-one minutes and thirty-five seconds, everyone was more than ready to call it day and get back into the warmth of the Burrow.
But despite them all being half frozen to their brooms they were in exceptionally high spirits, and even when they had all settled down around the big kitchen table, and were digging into Molly's homemade treacle tart and nursing hot cups of tea, they were still talking animatedly about the highlights of the match.
"Did you see me block that Quaffle from Angelina?" Ron boasted. "I was practically hanging off my broom to catch it!"
"Didn't catch Hermione's though!" Charlie teased, before turning to the bushy haired brunette and winking at her.
"Yeah!" Harry chimed in "Well done, Hermione! And you thought you wouldn't be much use to us!"
Hermione blushed a furious shade of pink, but looked very pleased with herself when she muttered "I just got lucky. It's nothing compared to what Ginny did. That was really impressive, Gin."
"She's right." George said, a fond look on his face as he locked eyes with his sister. "You might want to reconsider that Quidditch career you wanted to pursue. You nearly secured us a win today, despite Harry catching the Snitch."
"I'd have to agree." Oliver sighed. "I don't want to, because I know whichever team you'll play for, will flatten Puddlemere in every match, but you're too good to deny it. You're made for this."
Ginny could feel her face grow hot as everyone nodded and hummed in agreement.
It was true. The Weasleys had lost the match by only twenty points, and that was only, because Ginny alone had scored them thirteen goals, despite no other than Oliver Wood, professional Quidditch Player and Keeper for the Puddlemere United Reserve Team, guarding the opposing team's goals.
Ginny cast George a long, searching look, her heart constricting a little, as she thought of Fred, and how much he would have enjoyed today's match. Fred had been her biggest supporter when it came to her dream of being a professional Quidditch player, and without him cheering her on from the sidelines, she just never thought she'd be able to pursue a career like that. But to see how much support she was getting from everyone else – how much George was trying to ignite that passion in her again – it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she would be able to do it after all.
"I'll think about it." She finally agreed, before taking a big gulp of tea to hide her emotions.
"Good!" George exclaimed happily. "And now that that's settled and we've all defrosted a little, I would like to say a few words."
He stood up and cleared his throat noisily, and everyone around the table directed their attention at him.
"As you all know, I've been struggling quite a bit with everything that happened." He paused briefly, a muscle ticking in his jaw, as he swallowed hard. "Losing Fred…" He continued. "was…is… really hard on me, and I think we can all agree that I lost myself a little bit in the past few months."
The whole room had gone eerily quiet as everyone stared at George, the only noise was a faint sniffling from the far end of the table, where Molly was wiping her tear-stained cheeks with Arthur's blue and green checkered handkerchief.
George grimaced apologetically at her, before continuing his speech. "I know I pushed you all away." He said, looking very serious all of a sudden. "I was hurting and… and everyone kept pushing me to talk about it… and I just couldn't." His voice faltered and he sucked in a shaky breath, steeling himself before he pressed on. "But I want to change that." He looked around the table, determination glittering in his watery eyes. "I think by not talking about the people we've lost we do them a huge disservice, and I'm ashamed that I let my grief turn me into a recluse, someone who hides away from the world, when I should be out there telling everyone about how amazing my brother was."
Tears were trickling down Ginny's cheeks now, as she fought to stay afloat on the tidal wave of emotions that was coursing through her – grief and heartache and loss, but also affection, relief and maybe even the tiniest bit of hope.
For the third time that day, she could feel Greg's hand find her leg in a gentle squeeze, and she instantly threaded her fingers with his, and leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder. She didn't even care that there were people around them, and that none of them knew about the nature of their relationship yet; too caught up in the feeling of Greg's body pressed soothingly against hers and the way his comforting scent – cinnamon and pine – encased her, as he slung an arm around her shoulder and pressed his lips gently to the crown of her head.
"Fact is…" George went on, gently pulling Ginny back to the present. "I'm not okay. And I don't know if I ever will be again… but for Fred's sake, I think I ought to at least try a little harder."
"Well said, Georgie! I'll drink to that." Bill announced, before waving his wand and summoning a big bottle of Odgeon's best, accompanied by a myriad of tiny shot glasses.
They all watched as the bottle began to fill the glasses by itself, before they spread out across the table until each of them had a shot of Firewhiskey in front of them.
Bill raised his glass, gesturing for everyone else to follow suit.
"To Fred." He said, a mixture of grief and affection playing out on his freckly face "and 'trying a little harder'."
"To Fred." Everyone echoed, before they knocked back their drinks.
"Right, and on that note…" George gasped, pulling a face, as he put the shot glass down with a loud clonk "I would like to propose that we turn today into an annual event – a new tradition so to speak." He moved his hand through the air in front of him as if tracing an imaginary banner. "'The Weasley Christmas Quidditch Match'…something to remember Fred by."
There was a short silence, as everyone around the table contemplated his proposal for a moment, until Arthur stood up, walked over to George and pulled him into a tight hug; his bright blue eyes glittering dangerously as he huffed out a gruff: "I think that's a brilliant idea, son."
"Hear, hear!" Charlie chimed in, a wide grin on his face. "Bill, I think this calls for another toast!"
Bill nodded, before charming the bottle to refill all their glasses. When everyone was fixed with another shot of whiskey, they all raised them in the air, smiling at each other through tear-filled eyes as they all shouted:
"TO NEW TRADITIONS!"