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SIYE Time:0:40 on 29th March 2024
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Meaning of One, Part One: Stone and Fire
By Sovran

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General, Humor
Warnings: Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1026
Summary: If two people are deliberately created to be together, how will the challenges in a world of magic and Dark Lords be dealt with? What would it mean for two people to truly become one? A re-imagination of first year.
Hitcount: Story Total: 547578; Chapter Total: 27644
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Thanks, as always, to moshpit, Jonathan Avery, and regdc for making this chapter comprehensible. Without them, it might not even make sense to me.




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On the third Saturday of November, Ginny and Harry were whispering to Hermione and Ron at a table in the common room. Neville had caught Professor Sprout’s attention, and he was spending many of his free hours in the greenhouses helping her to care for the more mundane plants grown there.

“What do you suppose Dumbledore’s hiding on the third floor?” Harry asked.

“And why does Snape want it badly enough to try to get past Fluffy?” Ginny added.

“It’s probably some kind of treasure,” Ron said. “Snape wants it so he won’t have to work for a living. I can’t imagine why else he’d be teaching here except that he gets a steady salary.”

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but then she stopped. “You know, you’re right. Why does he teach here? He is clearly very skilled in Potions, but he’s a horrible educator.”

“Dumbledore’s not guarding money,” Ginny said.

“That’s what Gringotts is for, right?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. “It must be something more valuable.”

“Whatever it is, Snape wants it, and that means it’s probably bad for us if he gets it,” Harry scowled.

Hermione thought for a moment. “We need to find out who Nicholas Flamel is or was. I know I’ve seen that name somewhere before, but I can’t remember where. It’s very frustrating.”

Over the next few weeks, the four students spent much of their spare time in the library. Hermione pushed them to search through books of magical history, lists of wizards both famous and infamous, and even registries of births and deaths. As a result, they had been able to determine that Nicholas Flamel had not been a Hogwarts professor or student within the last hundred years and that he had not held a senior position at the Ministry of Magic for at least the last fifty years.

After weeks of fruitless searching, their avenues of research finally ran out. Hermione was very frustrated that the library had failed her, but she was determined to continue the search somehow. Harry and Ginny were very interested in finding out about Flamel, but they could not imagine how they might learn more about him than the little they already had discovered.

As the Christmas holidays approached, Hedwig was kept busy delivering mail orders to shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Harry and Ginny spent hours poring over catalogues, attempting to find modest and meaningful presents for each member of Ginny’s family. They also searched for gifts for Hermione and Neville, although they decided to give Neville two boxes of sweets instead of a combined present. Some of the items they wanted to buy were not available in magical stores, but luckily they had stumbled across the catalogue of a mail order business that served as a go-between for magical customers and muggle stores.

Instead of having the presents for the Weasleys sent to Hogwarts and then having to carry them to the Burrow, Harry and Ginny requested that most of their purchases be gathered at the Diagon Alley post office. Then, on Christmas Eve, a group of specialized cargo owls would deliver the entire batch to Ottery St. Catchpole.

Ginny’s letters to and from the Burrow continued, and Mrs. Weasley seemed pleased to hear that all four of Ginny’s youngest brothers knew of the situation already. Ginny’s mother continued to enquire about Harry indirectly, though she still refused to address her letters or questions to him. Mr. Weasley wrote more frequently, and though his notes were often shorter than the first two Harry and Ginny had received from him, they were just as friendly and always addressed Harry directly. Ginny was sure that her mother’s subtle interest in Harry and her father’s more frequent letters were closely related.

Other relationships were improving as well. After the first Quidditch match and what had been dubbed the ‘Burning Breakfast,’ the mood of the school lightened. In particular, the students’ views of Harry shifted somewhat. There were still whispers and pointed fingers in the corridors, but there were also smiles and approving gestures for the Seeker who had enabled Gryffindor to beat the feared Slytherin team.

Fred and George made it clear that Harry and Ginny were welcome to join the twins and their friends at any time. Ginny thought that getting Ron, Hermione, and Neville together had been enough of an accomplishment, and she was not sure that the twins would fit well into the existing group. So the five first-years continued to sit together at meals, but Ginny and Harry did occasionally seek out the twins in the common room when the others were busy. They were quite surprised to find that, in addition to Quidditch, the twins spent much of their free time with Angelina, Alicia, and Lee discussing potions.

Apparently, the five third years had decided that they were going to learn potions, regardless of Snape’s efforts to the contrary. Fred and George were clearly the leaders of the group in this regard. They helped the others with their potions homework and scoured their books for the answers and techniques which Snape never bothered to provide.

The second time Harry and Ginny found themselves listening to an in-depth discussion of third year potions, Ginny leaned over to whisper in George’s ear.

“Why do you lot get such low marks in potions?” she asked. “Even though Snape’s a git, you ought to be able to do as well as Harry and I do, at least.”

“That’s easy, Gin,” George grinned. “Messing up potions is loads of fun, so we only do as much as we have to in order to get through the class. Not only do we get to play with the ingredients, we also get to watch Snape have fits on a regular basis.”

“What are you going to do for your OWLs, then?”

“Just the same thing,” George said. “We have absolutely no interest in taking Snape’s NEWT class, so we’ll only do well enough to get an ‘A’. For the rest of the exam, we’ll see how much of a mess we can make. Personally, I hope Snape’s there to watch.”

Can we tell Hermione about that? Harry grinned at the thought of his friend’s reaction.

We’d better not, Ginny said with a sigh. It would be great fun to watch her go berserk, but it wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do.

Pity,
he replied. We can enjoy the mental picture, anyway.

As the first-years’ end of term exams approached, Hermione became frantic about her revision. She spent all of her free time hunched over her textbooks, and she urged her class-mates to do the same. Ginny and Harry were happy to join her when they felt that they needed the revision she was doing, but they did not care to revise simply for revision’s sake. When they were not interested, they left Hermione to her books and sat nearby in case she wanted to take a break. Ron grudgingly revised only when all of the others did, but it was quite obvious that he did not really care to make the extra effort. Neville seemed to take his cues from Harry and Ginny. When they chose to revise, he revised. If they chose to relax, he relaxed. As a result, the evenings either found all five students working, or Hermione working while the others entertained themselves as quietly as each of them was able.

In the end, Ginny decided that all of Hermione’s extra work only resulted in raising the expectations that the professors had for her. The exams were general in nature, and they reminded Harry more of the basic aptitude tests in his school than any sort of comprehensive finals. As far as he and Ginny were concerned, they held their own and showed the professors that they understood the material covered in the first term of school. In Transfiguration, they thought they might even have showed some mastery of the subject thus far. Even Ron, from his comments, seemed to have found the exams more of an irritant than a real test. Of course, nothing stopped Hermione from dissecting each and every test question with them in obsessive detail, certain that she had missed some obscure point that would lower her grade to something less than perfection.

On the Monday before Christmas, the Hogwarts express took those students leaving for the holidays back to London to meet their families. That morning, Harry and Ginny sought out Neville and Hermione in the common room.

Hermione was not in the common room, so Ginny went up to the girls’ dormitory while Harry headed up to his room to look for Neville. She found Hermione reading on her bed. The older girl’s trunk was already packed, and the area around her bed was neat and clean. Looking around, Ginny found that Lavender and Parvati were not in the room.

“Hello, Hermione,” Ginny greeted her friend. “Harry and I wanted to give you your Christmas present before we all left for the train.”

“That’s a good idea,” Hermione agreed. “I have some gifts for you two, also.”

“Do you mind if Harry comes up here?” Ginny asked. “He can leave again if Lavender or Parvati comes back.”

Hermione looked around the room before nodding. “Alright.”

Neville was not in the dormitory, so Harry climbed into his bed and sealed the curtains, and then he transported himself to Ginny’s bed.

“Harry,” Hermione greeted him, “if you ever get caught coming up here, I will never forgive you.”

Harry could imagine how upset she would be if she were to be associated with the flouting of such a serious rule, and he blushed at the thought of being caught in the girls’ dormitory. “I won’t, I promise,” he said.

“Here you are, Hermione,” Ginny said, handing her roommate a package wrapped in elegant silver paper which was quite unlike wizarding wrapping paper.

Hermione looked surprised as she took the package. “How on earth did you get something from a muggle shop?”

“We found an advert for a shop that can order things from muggle suppliers and send them to magical folk,” Ginny explained.

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Hermione opened her trunk and retrieved two packages. “This is for you, Harry, and this one is yours, Ginny.” Harry’s box was medium-sized and flat, but Ginny’s was very small.

“You go first, Harry,” Hermione suggested.

Harry ripped the paper off of his present eagerly. Ginny, understanding his excitement, sighed and shook her head sadly.

“What’s wrong, Ginny?” her bushy-haired friend asked.

Harry’s head snapped up, and he stared at Ginny as he followed her thought. He felt her silent question and shrugged in acceptance.

“That’s the first Christmas present he’s ever had since his parents died, Hermione,” Ginny whispered.

Ginny, with Harry’s reluctant consent, had told their friend a few things about Harry’s childhood, so Hermione was not completely surprised. “Well,” she said carefully, “you have to start somewhere.”

Harry grinned at the thought of getting more presents and finished unwrapping Hermione’s gift. Inside, he found a box of twelve chocolate frogs.

“I thought it was only fair,” Hermione commented with a small smile.

Harry reddened slightly at the memory of the day when Ginny had given Hermione a chocolate frog on his behalf. “Thanks, Hermione. That’s very nice of you.”

“You next!” Ginny encouraged her roommate.

“Alright.” Hermione carefully pried up the tape on her package and then pulled the paper off in a solid sheet. She folded it into a small square and then turned to the box itself. After removing the lid, she pulled out a long, pale blue scarf.

“It’s lovely!” she smiled, rubbing the scarf against her cheek. “Is this cashmere?” she asked, incredulous. At Ginny’s nod, she looked down at the scarf and muttered, “It must have been very expensive.”

“It wasn’t too much in wizarding money,” Harry said.

“Harry’s idea of ‘too much’ is a bit different from mine,” Ginny observed. “I saw it and said that you’d like it before I saw how much it cost, and then Harry insisted that we get it for you anyway when we saw the price.”

Hermione gave them a broad smile. “Thank you, Ginny. You too, Harry. It’s really generous of you, but it is a bit much. Please don’t feel that you need to do anything like this in the future.”

“Alright, Hermione, if you insist,” Harry agreed.

Hermione looked up from her gift with a concerned expression. “You two didn’t spend this much on all the things you ordered, did you?”

Ginny shook her head. “No. Harry insisted on nice things for me and you, and I picked out something good for him, but I stopped him from spending as much on the rest of my family.”

“That’s good,” Hermione nodded. “Open yours, Ginny. It’s nothing like this scarf, but I really hope you’ll like it. I chose it especially for you.”

Ginny smiled reassuringly and tore into her small package. Opening the box inside, she found a large silver hair clip. Its design was quite simple, but classic, and elegant etchings covered its exterior surface.

“It’s so nice!” Ginny enthused. Dropping the box, she gathered her hair at the back of her head and clipped it into place. “Look at it, would you, Harry?” she asked.

Harry stood behind Ginny and watched as she turned her head from side to side, using his vision to admire the bright ornament. “Thank you ever so much, Hermione. I’ve never had anything this pretty before.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermione smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I was afraid it wouldn’t be large enough to hold your hair.”

“It’s just perfect, Hermione.” Ginny hugged her friend. Harry smiled broadly at Hermione over Ginny’s shoulder and mouthed the words ‘thank you’. He loved the feeling of his best friend’s exuberant happiness. Hermione seemed to get the message, and she nodded slightly in reply.

You can’t really keep me from noticing that, you know, Ginny remarked.

I know, but it seemed right to do it that way, anyway.

Ginny conceded the point, knowing that it was important for Harry and Hermione to develop a friendship on their own terms and not just through her. The three gifts they had exchanged, in their small ways, had helped with that.

Hermione stepped away from Ginny. “You’d better go back, Harry. Lavender and Parvati haven’t packed yet.” She paused, glancing at the riotous mess of her roommates’ beds. “At least, I hope they haven’t packed yet,” she corrected herself. “They could return at any time.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “See you on the train.”

Harry transported himself back to his dormitory and then went downstairs. As he entered the common room, he noticed someone crawling under one of the tables. Confused, he tried to see who it was as Ginny joined him from the girls’ staircase. “C’mon, Trevor. Where are you?” Neville’s frustrated voice was muffled by the table, but was still very audible.

Walking up to his side to avoid startling him, Ginny said, “Hi, Neville.”

The round-faced boy pulled his head out from under a table and stood up with a shy smile. “Hi, Ginny. Hi, Harry.”

“We wanted to give you your Christmas presents before we all got on the train.” They each held out a small box wrapped in red and gold. “Happy Christmas, Neville.”

“Happy Christmas,” he echoed. “Wait a moment, I’ve got presents for you upstairs. I was going to give them to you on the train, but now is just as good.” Neville disappeared up the boys’ staircase and reappeared a few moments later. Wordlessly, he held out two identical green bags tied with red ribbons, and the three students exchanged their gifts.

“It’s just nuts and dried fruit,” Neville apologized as Harry and Ginny untied their bags. “My gran sent me six of those to give to my friends. Would you like more? I’ve got one extra.”

“No, Neville, this is perfect,” Ginny smiled. “It looks really good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Neville,” Harry added.

“You’re welcome.” Neville unwrapped his two packages to find a box of chocolate frogs and a small bar of Honeyduke’s best chocolate. “Wow, these are great. I’ll be sure to hide them from Gran until I’ve finished them,” he grinned. “Thank you both.”

“We’re glad you like them,” Ginny replied. “See you on the train, okay? We can share a compartment with Ron and Hermione.”

“Okay, great,” Neville nodded.

As planned, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Hermione, and Ron shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. The five students passed the train ride chatting about Quidditch, classes, and their holiday plans. The snacks sent by Neville’s grandmother provided a lunch for everyone, but Harry bought a small collection of sweets from the trolley anyway and shared them with his friends.

Not long after the trolley came by, Fred and George pulled open the door of the compartment and stuck their heads inside.

“Hello, titches,” Fred said.

“Anything terribly not-allowed going on in here?” George asked.

“Hey,” Ginny answered. “Ron and I were just saying how much we would regret having some of our older brothers around for Christmas.”

“It’s right sad,” Fred nodded. “Bill and Charlie always want to act all grown up, and the only fun they’ll allow themselves nowadays is Quidditch.”

“Yes, of course,” Ginny said with a raised eyebrow. “Bill and Charlie. Those are certainly the brothers we were talking about.”

George smiled. “We were sure they were.”

“Speaking of pointless deception, you two are going to play Quidditch with us this year, right?” Fred asked.

“Try stopping us,” Ginny grinned. “Though I’d say we’ll be playing Quidditch around you.”

“Ah, Ginny. Dear, dear Ginny,” George shook his head. “Try to remember that experience and cunning will beat youth and speed every time.”

“Oh? Mum’s going to be on our team, then?”

Fred turned to his twin. “Oi, I think we’ve been insulted, George.”

“We have, Fred. We have.”

“Well,” Fred huffed. “I see no reason to stand here and listen to this . . . this horribly devastating recitation of fact.”

George put his nose in the air. “I bid you good day, children.”

Adopting a similar pose, Fred marched away from the compartment behind his brother. Ginny and Harry applauded quietly as they left.

Curious, Ginny turned to Hermione. “What does your family do for the holidays, Hermione? I imagine there’s not a lot of Quidditch involved.”

“Absolutely correct, there’s very little Quidditch,” Hermione grinned. She wore the scarf that Harry and Ginny had given her, and she stroked it absently as she spoke. “My parents and I spend Christmas Eve with my mother’s parents, and then on Christmas Day we go to visit my father’s family. I enjoy seeing everyone, but we all eat too much turkey with two big dinners in a row. On Christmas Day we listen to the Queen’s speech, and then some of the men watch football on television while the rest of us stay as far away as we can.

“We stay at home for Boxing Day, playing games and spending time together without anyone else from the family. Then, the next day, we spend the day visiting all of our favourite bookshops.” Ron almost laughed, but he stopped himself when Ginny and Harry both glared at him, and he blushed as he realized what he had almost done. “My father buys lots of history books, my mother picks out new biographies, and I just get anything that catches my eye.” She paused thoughtfully. “This year, I think I will read about inventors and scientists. I suspect that if I look closely enough I will find that lots of them were wizards. Sir Isaac Newton, for example. I think he must have been a wizard.”

“Is that the bloke with the apple?” Ginny asked. At Hermione’s nod, she added, “He was a squib. Bit barmy, from what Bill told me. He put that apple in the tree himself, balanced on a limb, and sat underneath it. Apparently he was trying to will it to come to him, to prove that he was a wizard. A breeze came along, and the apple fell and hit him on the head. He spent the rest of his life trying to convince people that he could do magic without a wand. Not that he . . .”

A grunt or cough from the hallway interrupted Ginny. Everyone in the car glanced at the door, but Harry and Ginny could not see anyone.

“Well, that explains a lot,” Hermione concluded. “Anyway, we all go to a fancy party on New Year’s Eve. The dental society in the city all get together to pay for it. My mother buys me a new dress to wear each year, and I go along and try to be polite to people. Mum says it’s a chance for me to socialize, but I think she just likes to surprise the adults who talk to me. I spent the entire party last year talking about the Queen’s address and how important it was. I think they were all surprised that I could even understand it.”

At least we’re not the only ones she surprises, Harry observed.

“Why should it be so shocking that I understand what the Queen has to say?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “She speaks in plain English, although her accent is a little old-fashioned.”

“I had no problem with it,” Harry said.

Hermione looked at him speculatively. “Did you like the address last year, Harry?”

“Yeah, it was good,” he replied. “She talked about her family, and she talked about those army captives, you know, and how much she hoped they were okay. That was . . . really nice of her.”

She could have been talking about you just as easily as those soldiers, Ginny muttered.

I always liked listening to her. She seemed really nice, and I could imagine that she cared about me as much as she did the people she was talking about.

Draco Malfoy walked into the doorway with his two bookends in tow. He had, apparently, been listening outside the door. “Well, well. Isn’t this cozy? A collection of Muggle-lovers all reflecting on the bland, meaningless words of a Muggle usurper who has no right to the crown and who doesn’t know anything at all about the real world. No matter. Only a complete idiot would spend Christmas in a bookshop, anyway.”

Ron half-rose from his seat and reached for his wand, but Neville, who was sitting next to him, pulled the tall boy back down.

“And what do you do during the holidays, Malfoy?” Ginny asked, scowling. “Brew poison to give to all of the garden gnomes?”

“You wouldn’t recognize a real Christmas if you were paid to clean up after it, baby weasel,” he sneered. “My family spends the day on our estate, and all of our neighbours come by to pay their respects. Usually, the Minister stops by before noon. Last year, he gave me a solid gold stand for my wand.” He smiled smugly.

“How appropriate,” Hermione said. “Small, shallow gifts for small, shallow people.”

Malfoy reached for his wand, but as he drew it out of his pocket, Crabbe tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down the passageway. The blond boy shoved his wand back into his jacket. “Come on. We’ve wasted enough time on these . . . Gryffindors.”

The three Slytherins headed back towards the other end of the train, and a moment later Percy walked by on patrol with his nose in the air. He paused at the door to the first-years’ compartment. Seeing nothing amiss, he sniffed and continued on his way.

After a few tense minutes, the five friends managed to put their encounter with Malfoy behind them, and they passed the rest of the trip in friendly conversation.

The Hogwarts Express arrived at Platform 9 ¾ just before four o’clock in the afternoon. Ginny, dragging her makeshift trunk, led the way off the train and spotted her parents immediately. As Neville stepped off the train, he said, “There’s Gran. I’ll see you all next year.” He hurried across the platform towards his grandmother as the others chorused their goodbyes to his back.

Ginny turned to Hermione. “Do you see your parents, Hermione?” she asked.

“Yes, they’re over there.” Hermione pointed at a neatly dressed couple standing off to the side of the mass of witches and wizards on the platform. She waved at them, and the four students made their way over to Hermione’s parents.

Along the way, they passed Draco Malfoy as Crabbe and Goyle escorted him through the crowd. Malfoy was looking at the elder Grangers with his lip curled in disdain. When he spotted Hermione nearby, he raised his voice enough to be heard as he addressed Crabbe. “I see that the Ministry is behind on their pest control measures again. Disgusting, isn’t it?”

The four Gryffindors ignored Malfoy, and Hermione raised her head proudly as they approached her parents. Her mother and father both hugged her, and then they stepped back to look at Ginny, Harry, and Ron. “Who are your friends, Hermione?”

“Mother, Father, this is Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley,” she said, indicating each of her friends in turn.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Granger,” Ginny said politely.

“We’re pleased to meet you as well, Ginny, and we’re glad to see that you like Hermione’s gift,” Mrs. Granger observed.

“I picked it out,” Hermione explained, “but Mother ordered it and sent it to Hogwarts for me.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Granger,” Ginny answered her friend’s mother, raising a hand to her hair clip. “It’s lovely.”

“Are you ready to go, Hermione?” Mr. Granger asked.

“Yes, I am. I’ll see you all in the new year,” she replied. Hermione and her parents walked along the edge of the crowd towards the entrance to Kings Cross.

Ginny, Harry, and Ron crossed the busy platform to join her mother, who had already gathered the twins and Percy together. Ginny’s father was no longer with them.

“There you are,” Mrs. Weasley chastised them. “What took you so long? I was starting to worry.”

“We met Hermione’s parents, Mum,” Ginny said. “They’re Muggles, remember?”

“Oh, yes, that’s nice, dear,” Mrs. Weasley answered, glancing around the station. “Come on now, all of you. Your dad went to bring the car around.” She turned abruptly to Harry. “Harry, we’re so glad you could join us for the holiday,” she said with an overly bright smile.

I’m not sure how glad she is, Harry commented.

Me neither, but at least she’s trying, Ginny pointed out.

Outside the station, they found Mr. Weasley waiting in the battered old Ford Anglia. Harry knew that the car was larger on the inside than it looked, but he still wondered how eight people and six trunks could fit inside.

Mr. Weasley got out and opened the boot, and then he lifted Ginny’s trunk into the car. It seemed to fill half of the available space, but as he pushed, the trunk appeared to slide smoothly into the back of the compartment until it disappeared. Harry and Ron’s trunks followed in the same way, and Fred, George, and Percy had no problems putting their trunks in the boot on their own.

“There we are, then,” Mr. Weasley announced. “Everyone jump in.”

Ginny reached for the door, but Mrs. Weasley gently grabbed her shoulder and held her back. “Harry and Ginny, you’re the smallest, so you can ride up front with us.”

Convenient excuse, isn’t it? Ginny commented. She probably wants to keep an eye on us.

Ron, Percy, and the twins all wedged themselves into the back seat of the two-door car, but somehow they had more than enough room once they all climbed in. Harry and Ginny slid over to the middle of the front seat, and Ginny’s parents climbed in on either side of them. Harry was quite close to Mr. Weasley as he drove, but he did not feel squashed.

As Mr. Weasley left the car park, Harry looked up at him. “Does it still fly, Mr. Weasley?” he wondered.

Mrs. Weasley sniffed loudly, and her husband shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Harry. Such things are terribly unreliable, you see.” Mr. Weasley glanced over Harry and Ginny’s heads to make sure Mrs. Weasley wasn’t looking, then he smiled and winked at Harry. Harry grinned in return, but then he copied Mr. Weasley’s sad expression before anyone else could notice.

I bet it flies as well as ever, Ginny said. Dad may pick odd things to mess with, but when he figures out a charm, he casts it perfectly. I’ve never seen one of his charms wear off unless he wanted it to.

After several hours of casual conversation, staring out of windows, and a few brief naps, Mr. Weasley pulled into the driveway of the Burrow. The eight of them jumped out of the small car, and six trunks emerged safely from the boot. They all paraded inside, and Mrs. Weasley issued brisk instructions.

“Fred, George, Percy, Ron . . . take your trunks upstairs and then set the table. Ginny and Harry, stay here for a minute. Arthur, please take their trunks up for them,” she ordered.

Harry and Ginny sat on the sofa and waited for the Weasley men to leave the room.

This feels an awful lot like the last time we arrived here, Harry noticed.

“Now, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley addressed him with a tenuous smile, “we’ve set up a cot for you in Ron’s room.” Ginny straightened immediately, but her mother continued before she could object. “I know you need to . . . to share a room with Ginny at night, but you’ll keep your things in Ron’s room and use the cot if you want to have a nap. That way our guests won’t ask any difficult questions. You can both get dressed in the loo, and I don’t want you to spend one minute more than is absolutely necessary in Ginny’s room. Is that understood?”

They both nodded to Mrs. Weasley, who sent them upstairs. Arriving on the second landing, they found that Mr. Weasley had already placed Ginny’s trunk at the foot of her bed. Harry continued on his way upstairs as she entered her room to unpack before dinner. Only after she had opened her trunk did she realize that something was missing.

Where is my door?! she cried, outraged.

Harry paused on the steps and let himself see with Ginny as she stared at her empty doorway. Why don’t you have a door?

Clearly, if we have a door to close, we’ll waste no time getting into trouble on the other side,
she said disgustedly.

Why do they keep doing this? We’ve done nothing wrong.

Why do you think? I don’t know why I expected things to be better at home.
Ginny kicked her trunk and flopped down on her bed.

Standing on the stairs, Harry could feel her anger and disappointment, and he knew that she was trying very hard not to cry. Maybe we should go back to Hogwarts.

No! I am not going to let her win,
Ginny said. We can do this, Harry. I know we can.

We just don’t have to like it?
Harry suggested.

How much worse can it get? Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged and continued up the stairs to Ron’s room, where he found the cot as promised. Hedwig, who had flown from Hogwarts and arrived earlier, hooted in greeting from her perch on Ron’s wardrobe. Harry’s trunk was waiting for him also, and he pulled out a clean shirt to wear for dinner. Ginny brushed her hair and pulled out a few of her own things, and then the two met in the loo to wash their hands.

When they reached the kitchen, they found that the rest of the family had already arrived. Mrs. Weasley had produced platters of sandwiches from the refrigerator, and the family enjoyed a light meal.

All five Weasley children took turns telling their parents about their grades, their classes, and Quidditch in the twins’ case. When it was Ginny’s turn, she made sure to involve Harry in her stories. Mr. Weasley caught her hint and even asked Harry a few questions directly. Afterwards, Fred finally asked a question of his own. “Mum, why doesn’t Ginny have a door anymore?”

“To avoid questions,” his mother answered with a quelling look.

Rot, Ginny declared. Everyone knows the question and the answer, but she doesn’t want to admit it.

I don’t understand,
Harry said. What’s the question everybody knows, and what’s the answer?

The question is how much we really share with each other, and I think everyone has realized that it’s a bit more than just beef-flavored pumpkin juice.

You mean she’s thinking about, err . . . showering and such?

Yes, exactly. I’ll bet a galleon that she checks on us when we each get ready tomorrow morning.


After dinner, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and the twins all went up to Ron’s room.

“See, Ginny?” George asked. “If you don’t have a door, you can’t ask questions. It’s really quite simple.”

She rolled her eyes in reply. “Oh, thank you for explaining that with such insight, George. I really had no idea.”

Ginny thought for a moment and then continued. “You know, I’m tempted to go back and sleep at Hogwarts each night, just to get a bit of privacy.”

“Understandable, Gin,” Fred said. “But do you really think it’s worth it?”

She turned to look out the window absently. “You know what, Fred? I’m not sure anymore.”

Fred sighed and shook his head. “Well, how about some Exploding Snap, then? With five of us, we could have quite the tournament.”

Harry and Ginny accepted the change of subject, and they spent an enjoyable evening trying to avoid singeing their eyebrows.

At bedtime, Harry and Ginny took turns in the loo to change into their pajamas. They settled into Ginny’s bed, but the light and noise from the hallway kept them from sleeping. After a few minutes, the twins came up the stairs on their way to their room and poked their heads through Ginny’s doorway.

Fred glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone as George whispered, “Sorry, you two. This is pretty stupid, if you ask us.”

Ginny twisted to look over her shoulder at the door. “Thanks, George,” she yawned. “We just want to sleep.”

“Yeah, that’s the point, right?” Fred pointed out.

Ron was the next to go up the stairs. He did not say anything as he passed, but he glanced at Harry and Ginny thoughtfully. Percy, when he went up to his room, completely ignored them, which was exactly what they wanted from him.

Mr. Weasley came up by himself to say goodnight. He sat down on the edge of the bed behind Ginny’s legs. “I hope this doesn’t bother you too much,” he sighed. “I know you don’t like it, and I don’t blame you, but we’re doing the best we can.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Dad,” Ginny reminded him, looking up at her father from her place on Harry’s chest.

“I know, Firefly,” he admitted, running his hand along her hair. “Let’s just take one day at a time, okay? We got you in the room together, and that’s a big step for your mother.” Arthur paused for a moment while stroking her hair. “And for me,” he admitted quietly.

Ginny sighed and nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “You’re a good girl. Goodnight, Ginny. Goodnight, Harry.”

“’Night, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Weasley.”

Mum will be next, Ginny predicted. Let’s just pretend to be asleep. Maybe she won’t say anything if we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing.

Harry agreed and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, they heard someone come up the stairs. Harry identified the sounds of Mrs. Weasley stepping into the room and shifting her weight a few times.

How did you learn to do that? Ginny asked. I could never guess what she was doing just by listening.

I spent a lot of time listening while I was in my cupboard. I got good at figuring out whether Uncle Vernon was going to open my door or just walk past.


She shook her head mentally. I wish you hadn’t had any reason to think about things like that, but I suppose it’s a useful skill sometimes.

After a few long moments, Mrs. Weasley sniffed loudly and went back down the stairs. When the sound of footsteps reached the ground floor, the candle in the hallway went out and left Ginny’s room dark.

Maybe now we can sleep, Harry hoped.

Until someone has to use the loo, she retorted. But let’s at least try.

The next day was Christmas Eve, and Harry and Ginny woke up as soon as Percy left his room to use the lavatory. It was much earlier than they normally woke up, even on weekdays, but they were unable to get back to sleep once the other occupants of the house started moving around. Instead, they decided to dress for the day and wait for the rest of the family downstairs. Harry went up to Ron’s room and found his friend still sleeping soundly. He gathered his clothes and then waited on the cot as Ginny showered.

Harry listened carefully, and he was not surprised when he heard Mrs. Weasley climbing the stairs. He opened the Transfiguration textbook he had pulled out of his trunk for the sake of appearances. When Ginny’s mother stopped in the doorway and peered inside, he looked up from the book.

“Oh, hello, Harry. I just wanted to see if Ron was awake yet,” she said.

Sure, Mum, if you say so, Ginny scoffed. If Ron were awake, he’d be at the breakfast table stuffing his face.

Mrs. Weasley went back down the stairs without another word. When Ginny was showered and dressed, Harry went and took his own shower.

As Ginny had predicted, her mother visited her room a few minutes after Harry started running the water. She made sure that she was obviously focused on braiding a lock of long hair next to her ear. This time, Mrs. Weasley did not even attempt to find an excuse for her visit. Instead, she looked carefully at Ginny and returned to the kitchen without a word.

Congratulations, Harry. We’ve passed today’s morality test.

After a large breakfast, Harry and the Weasleys spent over two hours cleaning the Burrow in preparation for decorating it that afternoon. At eleven o’clock, Harry and Ginny heard a voice call out from the front lawn. “Hello, Weasleys!”

Bill and Charlie! Ginny squealed. Come on! She abandoned her efforts to tidy her room and raced down the stairs. Harry, who had been trying to help Ron, turned and started down the stairs also, following Ron to the front of the house.

Ginny burst through the front door of the house and leapt into Bill’s arms. Harry thought Bill must be used to such a reception, because Ginny’s tallest brother dropped his bag and caught her without falling. Harry stopped in the front door beside Ron, watching the scene and reveling in Ginny’s love for her two eldest brothers. She hugged Bill with her arms around his neck and her legs around his ribcage, and then she dropped to the ground and ran to Charlie. Charlie was shorter and more muscular. He picked his sister up easily by her waist and spun her in circles. He grinned as she laughed, and when he put her down she hugged him fiercely.

Pulling back from Charlie, Ginny grabbed one of each of her brothers’ hands and steered them towards the Burrow. When she had them both facing in the right direction, she leapt lightly to the door and took Harry’s hand to pull him into the yard. Behind Ron, she saw the rest of her family emerging from other parts of the house.

“Charlie and Bill, this is my best friend, Harry Potter. Harry, this is Bill,” she gestured at the tall, long-haired man, “and Charlie,” she pointed at the shorter brother with cropped hair. The introductions were unnecessary for Harry, but Ginny did not want to startle her brothers when they had just arrived.

“Hello, Harry,” Bill said, stepping forward to shake Harry’s hand. Behind him, Charlie nodded with a friendly smile. “Mum’s written us about that little show you and Gin put on at the Sorting Ceremony. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

“It was pretty unusual, I’m sure,” Harry agreed cautiously.

“No surprise to us,” Charlie commented. “Ginny’s been unusual since she was the size of a kneazle.”

“She’s still about the size of a kneazle, Charlie,” Bill corrected him.

“Hey!” Ginny yelled. “I’m tall enough to reach that ponytail and pull you down here,” she threatened.

“Sounds like a kneazle sometimes, too,” Harry offered in a stage whisper.

All three Weasleys stared at him in shock. After a moment, Bill and Charlie laughed loudly. Seeing them, Ginny smiled at Harry.

Not bad, Potter.

I learn from the best,
he grinned.

Ha! Flattery will get you everywhere, she retorted.

Is that a threat?

Bill and Charlie recovered their composure as the rest of the Weasleys emerged from the Burrow to greet them.

After all of the Weasleys greeted each other, the group moved back inside. With no words exchanged, Charlie took Bill’s bag from him and carried it upstairs with his own. Bill and Charlie would be sleeping on cots in Percy’s and Ron’s rooms, respectively. The rest of the family settled into the living room, and a few minutes later Charlie returned.

“You weren’t here earlier this morning, were you, Bill?” Charlie asked, looking puzzled.

“What? No, I haven’t been back here since the summer,” his brother replied.

“Why’s Ginny’s door gone missing, then? I thought that was your sort of thing,” Charlie grinned.

Bill rolled his eyes. “That was twelve years ago, Charlie. Let it go.” His brow furrowed as he turned to his father. “Why is Ginny’s door missing?”

Arthur sighed. “That brings us right to the point, then.” He turned to look out a window in thought for a long moment, and then he nodded slightly and stood up. “Let’s go outside, shall we?”

He walked towards to the door, but no one else moved. He turned back to his family and spoke more forcefully. “Weasleys, let’s go outside. Now.”

Harry and Ginny were the first to stand and follow Mr. Weasley through the house, but the rest of the Weasleys lined up without protest. Harry thought it was odd that even Mrs. Weasley did not question the instruction.

We all know better than to ask questions when Dad talks like that. He’ll explain it to us soon enough.

At the back door, they all paused to put on their winter cloaks. Percy reached for his scarf and gloves, but Arthur stopped him. “This shouldn’t take long, son.”

Outside, Arthur walked through the yard and stopped. To the others, Ginny supposed that the location might seem random, but she knew better. Mr. Weasley had brought his family to the blackened circle of earth that was the only remaining evidence of Harry and Ginny’s temper from three months earlier.

“What the bloody hell happened to the yard?” Charlie wondered.

“Language, Charlie,” Mrs. Weasley whispered.

“It got very, very hot,” Mr. Weasley began. “What you see here is the result of harsh words and quick tempers. When we go back inside, we are going to have a calm, polite discussion.” He faced Harry squarely and continued in a soft, measured voice. “There will be no insults, and we will all do our very best not to yell. We will remember that we are a family, and we will keep in mind the many kinds of damage that can occur when we hurt each other. Is that clear?”

Ron, Fred, George, and Percy seemed to have figured out what was coming, and they each nodded silently. Molly sniffed, but she glanced at Harry and then nodded also. Bill and Charlie looked bewildered.

“William? Charles?” Mr. Weasley prompted.

Bill looked concerned, especially when he was addressed by his full name, but he did not ask any questions. “Okay, Dad.” Charlie nodded his agreement.

“Wonderful,” Arthur smiled. “Let’s get back inside, then, before we freeze while contemplating the effects of heat.”

Harry and the Weasleys filed back into the house and resumed their places in the living room, except for Mrs. Weasley who said that she needed to prepare lunch. Bill, Charlie, and Percy took the sofa, facing the fireplace. Bill scooted away from Charlie, leaving a small gap between them. The twins and Ron sat on the floor in front of them. Harry and Ginny deliberately wedged themselves into a single armchair to the right of the sofa, facing the middle of the room, which caused Bill to look at Ginny with a confused and slightly sad expression. Mr. Weasley took his customary chair at the other end of the sofa, facing his daughter and Harry.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Bill asked, pulling his gaze away from Ginny and Harry. “You’re really worrying us.”

Ginny took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, but her father raised a hand in her direction. “I’ll do it this time, Firefly.” Ginny smiled at him, grateful for his help.

Slowly and carefully, Arthur told the story of the day Harry and Ginny met. He told Bill and Charlie about the things the two children shared, their odd method of transportation, and the change in Ginny’s magical power.

When Mr. Weasley finished, Bill was silent for a full minute. Then he glanced at Charlie, who lifted his shoulders a fraction of an inch. Bill turned back to his father and said, “You’re serious?”

“Completely. I’ve seen everything I mentioned to you with my own eyes,” Mr. Weasley replied.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Bill shook his head. “I know that you would never lie to me about something as important as this, but it’s unreal, I’d like to see it for myself before I say anything”

“What do you want to see first, Bill?” Ginny asked.

Bill looked startled, and Ginny thought that he had not actually expected to be offered a demonstration. “Well . . .” he paused. “Sharing thoughts and memories is the most ridiculous of those, I think. How can you prove that to me?”

“The same way we did for everyone else,” Ginny shrugged. “Ask Harry about something you think only I would know.”

Bill thought for a moment. “Ginny once gave me advice about my hair. What was it?”

“It wasn’t really about your hair,” Harry answered. “It was about a girl named Susan, who wanted you to cut it. Ginny asked you if you were growing your hair for yourself or for someone else. Ginny didn’t like Susan very much when they met, but she didn’t want to try to change your mind for you, so she hoped you would work it out on your own. She was glad when you started dating Elisabeth, even if she was a bit silly.”

“Silly? Elisabeth wasn’t silly.” Bill argued.

“Yes, she was,” Ginny insisted. “All she did was stare at you and giggle all the time. Every time someone asked her a question, she would answer it by going on about how wonderful and handsome you were. She was silly.”

“I remember her,” Charlie commented. “She was quite pretty, but not the fastest broom in the shed.”

“I found her to be rather vapid, myself,” Percy added.

“She wasn’t in your league, Bill,” Arthur concluded.

As his family voiced their opinions, Bill’s attention returned to Harry. “You remember that?” Harry nodded, and Bill snapped off another question. “What did Ginny call me when she used to ride around on my back?”

“Big Bill,” Harry grinned. “She wanted you to wear a wristwatch on your head, but you wouldn’t.”

“What’s my favorite kind of dragon?” Charlie asked.

“Once, you said it was the Swedish Short-Snout, but usually you just said ‘the kind with claws.’”

“What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?” Bill asked quickly.

“Forty-two,” Harry replied. “You told Ginny about some Muggle book you got that from.” He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “That’s not really a good question, though. My relatives are Muggles, so I could have learned that on my own. I didn’t, but I could have.”

“Who’s the only person to beat me to the Snitch in a game here at the Burrow?” Charlie asked, smiling.

“You bring that up every chance you get,” Harry rolled his eyes. “No one has ever beaten you to the Snitch in a game over the paddock”

“Yet,” Ginny grinned.

Charlie started to question Ginny, but Bill held his hand up to prevent further discussion of Quidditch. “He really knows this stuff, Charlie.”

Bill looked intently at Ginny and then held out his arms to her. “Come here, Gin.”

Ginny rose from her chair with Harry and crossed to stand in front of Bill with her arms raised. Bill picked her up by her waist and set her sideways on his lap, with her feet on the sofa between him and Charlie.

“I’m getting a little big for this, Bill,” she said with a lopsided grin.

“It’s a special occasion,” he replied. Keeping his arms around her, he looked down into her eyes. “Are you okay, Ginny?”

She knew what he was asking, and she smiled up at him. “I’m wonderful, Bill. Harry is one of the nicest, bravest people you’ll ever meet, and we get along really well. I’m happier this way than I was before, most of the time. The rest of the time, well . . . I’m learning to be more careful about getting angry.”

Bill frowned. “Is that what happened to the back yard? Harry made you angry, and you did something to the grass?”

“No!” Ginny insisted, pushing herself away from her brother a few inches. “Someone said something mean to me, and that made Harry angry for me, and then we burned the grass together.”

“And the dinner table,” Fred snickered.

“Quiet, George,” Bill ordered. “Who said something mean about you, Ginny?”

Arthur prevented Ginny from answering, but not before her eyes had darted to the kitchen door. “That’s not important, Bill,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Oh. Alright,” Bill nodded. He reached out and slowly pulled a lock of Ginny’s hair through his fingers, focusing on the fiery strands as he thought. After a few moments, he looked up. “What about this transportation method of yours? How does that work?”

“Pretty well,” Ginny answered as she pulled her hair free of Bill’s fingers. A moment later, she was standing in front of Harry’s chair. She slid back into the seat next to Harry. “Nobody knows how we’re doing it. All we know is that wards can’t stop us, that we can only go one at a time, and that we shouldn’t go somewhere one of us can’t see or that we don’t remember really well.”

In the ensuing silence, Charlie asked, “So why doesn’t Ginny have a door?”

“That’s the part that is . . . awkward,” Mr. Weasley said. “For some reason, Ginny and Harry can’t sleep unless they’re touching each other. They either don’t fall asleep at all or they have horrible nightmares.”

Bill straightened abruptly. “And you allow that?” he half-shouted. “There’s no way that can be acceptable!”

Ginny loved her brother, but she was tired of that particular response. “You try watching Voldemort kill your mother for a few hours, Bill, and then you can tell me what’s acceptable.”

Her oldest brother flinched at the use of Voldemort’s name, but he reacted even more strongly to Ginny’s acidic tone. He seemed hesitant to respond.

“That’s why there’s no door on her room, William,” Arthur told him. “Harry’s sleeping in there while they’re here.”

“What about at Hogwarts?” Charlie wondered, scowling.

“They both sleep in the boys’ room at Hogwarts,” Mr. Weasley said. “Ginny transports herself there every night after the curtains are closed, and she transports herself back to her room each morning. Percy keeps an eye on them for us.”

“They have behaved as instructed,” Percy grudgingly confessed.

Bill glanced around at his four youngest brothers. “You all knew about this already?” The four other boys nodded, and he frowned for a moment before his expression cleared. “Oh well. I guess this isn’t the sort of thing you want to put in a letter.” After another minute of thought, Bill turned to the twins. “What do you think, George?”

Why does he always try to talk to George? Harry wondered.

I think he gave up on telling them apart, Ginny said, so he just calls them both George.

“We like Harry a lot,” George said. “If he were the sort who liked pranks, he’d be very welcome to work with us.”

Harry and Ginny carefully kept their laughter inside their heads. That was nice of him, Harry chuckled.

“As for Ginny . . .” Fred started and then looked over at her.

“Go ahead, Fred,” she encouraged him. “You can say whatever you want. I’ll hex you later if I need to,” she finished with a grin.

His eyes widened for a moment, but he spoke anyway. “Ginny’s not really the same as she was before, Bill, but that doesn’t mean she’s worse. She’s . . . more, or something, and I think in some ways she’s even smarter than she was before. Either way, she’s definitely still Ginny.”

“I’ll ride around on your back for a while if you need me to,” Ginny offered. She caught Harry’s fleeting thought and giggled. You should say it.

He grinned and looked up at Bill. “If you’d rather, I could ride around on your back instead.”

Bill looked at Harry, scowled slightly, and blinked a few times. “Ahh . . . no, thanks.”

“Do you play Quidditch, Harry?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s our Seeker this year, Charlie,” George said.

“Seeker?” Charlie frowned. “I thought you said he was a first year?”

Ginny grinned. “We are.”

Charlie looked at Harry more closely and met his eyes for the first time. “Well, then. What do you do for a broom, Harry?”

“I use a house broom,” Harry admitted.

“A house broom?” Charlie scoffed. “You couldn’t catch a Flobberworm with one of those things.”

“Professor McGonagall got a Nimbus Two Thousand for the team and said it was to be used by the Seeker,” Ginny explained.

“That would do it,” her brother nodded. “Care for a fly later, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Sure! I left the Nimbus with Professor McGonagall, though. It’s not really mine, so it didn’t seem right to bring it along for the holidays.”

“That’s too bad,” Charlie said. “No matter, though. We’ve got lots of old brooms, and this way we’ll all be on an equal footing.”

Molly Weasley poked her head through the door. “Lunch is ready, everyone.”

Harry and the Weasleys spent lunchtime discussing the first match of the Hogwarts Quidditch season, and even Charlie seemed impressed by Harry’s capture of the snitch. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George were all careful to make no mention of Harry’s difficulties with his broom, and it seemed that Percy had not attended the match at all.

After lunch, the entire family worked together to decorate the living room for Christmas the next day. A small fir tree was brought into the living room in a bucket, so that it could be replanted after the holiday. Fred and George were sent out to the woods near the house, and they returned with armloads of greenery for garlands, which they began stringing together.

Mrs. Weasley produced a basket full of red paper cut into strips. She gave Harry and Ginny each a very short wand which could only cast a weak sticking charm, and the two children set about making paper chains at the kitchen table. They found that, if they did not think about it too much, they could work together to produce paper loops at a truly impressive speed.

They sat facing each other at the table. Ginny held a sticking wand in her left hand, and Harry had a stack of paper strips to his right. Harry would pick up a strip with his right hand, pass it into his left hand, and hold it in front of him by one end. Next, Ginny curled the strip into a loop with her right hand as Harry held it steady and she tapped it with the sticking wand in her left hand. At the same time, Harry’s right hand would reach for another strip of paper. As Harry passed the new strip from his right hand to his left, Ginny tugged the new loop away from Harry’s left hand with her right, and they started the process all over again.

Why don’t we use our own wands? Harry wondered.

Tradition, I suppose. Ginny shrugged. We all learned to use these before we had wands, and now it’s just a habit.

Near the end of their task, Ginny noticed Bill watching them out of the corner of her eye. He paused in the doorway, carrying a box of ornaments down from the attic. After a few moments, her long-haired brother shook his head and continued on his way.

When Harry and Ginny finished the paper chains, they delivered them to the living room and went to find Mrs. Weasley to ask what else they could help with. As they looked for her, they heard a flutter of wings and an odd chorus of calls coming from the front yard. “Hoooot! Hoot! Hoooot! Hoot!”

Cargo owls! Ginny said. That must be our presents arriving.

They reversed their path and ran towards the front door. Opening it, they found four owls standing on the lawn, one at each corner of a small wooden crate. Harry recognized it as very similar to the box Ginny was using as a school trunk. Each of the four owls held a short length of rope in its talons, the other end of which was tied to one corner of the crate.

Ginny ran across the yard to the crate and stopped a few feet away. “Thank you,” she enunciated carefully as she placed four owl treats on the lid of the crate. As soon as she spoke, each owl released the rope it was holding, took an owl treat in its beak, and flew away. Harry and Ginny each grabbed one of the human-sized handles on the crate and carried it back into the Burrow between them.

They entered the living room and found that Mrs. Weasley had already placed a few gifts under the Christmas tree, even though it was undecorated. Taking this as permission, they set their crate in the middle of the floor and sat down to either side of it.

Fred and George were hanging their garlands around the room. “Mum!” George called. “There’s a package!”

Mrs. Weasley walked into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “A package? I haven’t ordered anything.”

“It’s ours, Mum,” Ginny said. “It’s our Christmas presents for everyone.” Ginny pulled her wand from her pocket and tapped the lid of the crate. The lid popped away from the rest of the box, and Ginny reached out to lift it out of the way.

Inside the crate was a careful arrangement of seven wrapped packages. The largest of the packages took up almost a third of the small crate, but most of the rest were quite small. One of them was clearly a book, and all of them were wrapped in bright red, gold, or green wrapping paper.

“Where did you get all of this?” Molly demanded. “How could you pay for . . .” she trailed off and looked at Harry, and then she sighed. “Harry, you shouldn’t spend your money on fancy Christmas presents.”

“They’re not fancy, Mum. I wouldn’t let him spend too much, so mostly we got little things.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Mostly?”

“Well, I talked Harry into letting me pick out something a bit more expensive for him.” Ginny pointed. “That’s the large box.”

“Ginny! You should not be spending Harry’s money!” her mother yelled.

Harry was starting to get annoyed by Mrs. Weasley’s tendency to yell at any opportunity, but he and Ginny decided that the truth was as good a response as any. “Why not, Mrs. Weasley? She couldn’t surprise me with anything, so it’s really more like I bought something for myself, isn’t it?”

“But . . . you bought something for her, too, didn’t you?” Molly countered. Mr. Weasley stood in the doorway and watched as his wife talked to the two children.

Harry looked puzzled. “Of course I did. I got something for everyone. That’s what families do at Christmas, isn’t it?” He knew very well what happened at Christmas, but Ginny thought that her mother could use a reminder of Harry’s past.

Mrs. Weasley sighed. “So long as there’s nothing expensive in that crate, Ginny.”

“There’s not, Mum, I promise. It cost as much to have the box brought here as it did to buy any one thing inside, but we didn’t know how else to get it all here.”

“Next time, just let us know, Ginny,” Mr. Weasley suggested. “We could have come to Hogwarts and picked them up, or you could have had them sent here one at a time.”

“I will, Dad. We didn’t think of that,” Ginny admitted.

You mean we didn’t think your Mum would be very happy with all of this stuff arriving without us here to explain it, Harry said.

Yes, but I’m not going to tell them that, am I?

Mr. Weasley nodded, and he and his wife returned to the kitchen. Harry and Ginny pulled each gift out of the crate and placed it under the Christmas tree.

“You’ve brought us the lost treasure of Atlantis, haven’t you, Gin?” Fred asked in a low voice.

She shook her head. “No, but I think it might be in Harry’s vault.”

“Yeah, right,” George chuckled.

“I’m not kidding. I didn’t know you could have enough gold to actually fill a room with it.”

Harry decided that the twins, of all Ginny’s family, could withstand teasing on this subject. “Would you like some?” he asked casually.

“Ahh . . . no,” Fred stammered. “No, thank you. Wouldn’t know what to do with it, you see.”

Ginny giggled merrily, and the twins’ guarded expressions relaxed. “Blimey, you two. You had us going there,” Fred said. He looked at Ginny and Harry’s identical grins. “In fact . . . I’m still not sure if you’re having us on or not.”

Ginny shrugged and placed the last of their presents beneath the tree. We might as well bring the other two downstairs, she said.

I still don’t know how you persuaded me to make that thing for your mother, Harry replied.

Just wait, Harry. She’ll love it.

They went up to Ron’s room and dug out the last two presents from Harry’s trunk. One of them filled Harry’s arms completely, which left Ginny to carry the smaller parcel. They returned to the living room and added the last two packages to the growing pile beneath the tree.

By dinner-time, the house and tree were decorated and everyone was looking forward to Christmas Day. Each of the Weasley children had a stocking with their name on it, and they had hung them all from their bedposts. Mrs. Weasley provided Harry with a plain red stocking, which he happily hung next to Ginny’s in her room.

That night, as they tried to fall asleep, Bill was the first to pause in Ginny’s doorway. He stood upright in the doorway with his hands in his pockets for almost five minutes, by Harry’s best guess, and never said anything. He just stared at Ginny’s back and ignored Harry, who was watching him watch Ginny. Finally, the oldest Weasley sibling shook his head and crossed the hall to Percy’s room.

I thought you said he would at least hear us out? Harry asked. No offense, but he’s almost being rude. You’d think we were in a zoo or something.

Well, he did listen to us, but I did say he probably wouldn’t like it,
Ginny reminded him. You’re right, though. The least he could do is look at you when you’re right in front of him.

Charlie was next, a few minutes later. He leaned up against the doorframe with his arms casually crossed and studied Harry and Ginny. When Harry looked up at him, Charlie raised one hand and nodded in silent acknowledgement. After less than a minute, Charlie said, “Goodnight, you two,” and left.

Later, just as they were finally falling asleep in spite of the light in the hallway, Mrs. Weasley climbed the stairs to check on them. She, too, stood in the doorway and stared at Ginny’s back, but she did offer Harry a tiny, distracted smile when he caught her eyes. When she went back downstairs a moment later, Ginny sat up and turned to face the doorway.

“Would anyone else like to come up and gawp at us?” she yelled at the hallway. “Let’s get it all out of the way at once!”

The twins’ laughter drifted up from below, but it stopped abruptly. Ginny lay back down next to Harry and renewed her grip on him and Bun-bun, who was once again wedged between their bodies. The light in the hallway went out abruptly, and then Harry and Ginny heard two sets of feet in the hallway.

“Look, Fred,” George whispered. “Ginny’s got red hair.”

“What do you know, George. You’re right. It’s quite long, too.”

“Undoubtedly. Let’s stare at it for a bit, shall we?”

“Oh yes, let’s,” Fred answered.

Harry opened his eyes and looked over to find the twins standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, each holding a small candle in front of their bodies. They hunched over slightly, letting their arms hang loosely in front of their bodies. Their eyes were wide and fixed on Ginny’s hair, and their jaws were hanging open. Harry laughed and Ginny giggled at the ridiculous sight they presented.

“That was fun, George,” Fred said as he straightened.

“Quite. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

With that, Fred and George waved and went up to their room on the third floor. Ron and Percy passed a few minutes later. Ron nodded to Harry without stopping, but Percy entered his room without acknowledging Ginny and Harry in any way. Finally, they fell asleep, eager for the morning to arrive.
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Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear