"Happy Christmas, Gin" he whispered, sneaking his arms around her waist and kissing a little spot he liked on the crook of her neck. His wife was standing in the door frame, silently gazing at their Christmas tree, lost in thought. His wife. They'd been married a couple of months now, but the creature in his chest still purred every time he started thinking about it. Merlin only knew that there had been one too many moments in his life when he remembered her beautiful face, her blazing look, and knew she had all her future in front of her, whereas he…but that was in the past now and hugging her figure a bit firmer, pulling her slender body against his own, was a fail-proof way of reminding himself about it. She alone managed to reach inside the depths of the darkness that was threatening to eat him alive after the war and brought him to a life where he felt so loved, where he had a place to call home and caring arms to return to every night. Yes, she was amazing, his wife.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," she replied, still looking intently at the freshly decorated tree. There were elf-shaped baubles hanging from its branches, in memory of a friend, and the occasional Snitch and Quaffle bauble. The top was adorned with a simple gold star, which was bewitched to radiate a discreet, incandescent light, something magical emanating from it.

Indeed, she enjoyed Christmas and she enjoyed decorating. She could trace her tendency to impart the holiday spirit by decorating the house to the earliest memories of her life. Back then, Christmas meant that Bill would be back home and, after that, Charlie. One by one, her brothers left and she was determined to make them feel as at home as possible when they finally came back. Now she was determined to give Harry enough to compensate for many ruined Christmases in his life at the Dursleys'. He rarely opened up about it and she didn't press him, but she could feel it in his bittersweet smile whenever they had the traditional Christmas dinner and exchange gifts at her parents' house. It brought an ache inside her and it motivated her to never allow anyone to hurt him again. Ginny loved the way they supported and sheltered each other, from the boy that saved the little girl and showed her kindness to the young woman who held his head as he cried his heart out.

"Are you ready to go, love?" he asked, brushing her cheek with his own.

"Almost. I just have to wrap the last couple of presents, okay?" she replied.

"How many are we bringing? Our entire bedroom is packed with them," Harry quirked an eyebrow. He was amused by Ginny's peculiar drive to buy everything inside the shops this year.

"Well, I could never afford buying gifts for the people I care about and, now that I can, I see no reason why I shouldn't buy twenty different toaster models if that's what Dad wants," she shrugged. Harry laughed wholeheartedly, feeling so much love he feared it would soon not be able to contain it inside of his chest. He seized her lips with his own, pouring everything he didn't know how to express into their kiss.

The fireplace ignited and the young couple stepped inside the overly crowded living room of the Burrow. At their side, an enormous bag full of gifts which Harry hauled, panting.

"I reckon there aren't any gifts left in England," Ron asked, leaning in to hug his sister.

"Very funny. You continue to be like that and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to find your gift inside that bag," Ginny retorted.

Taking off her winter coat, she went to kiss her mother and father, greeting all her brothers and sisters-in-law. It was quite curious, but rewarding all the same, to see so many faces inside the living room she had grown up in. She took in the image of her eldest brother, Bill, fluffing a pillow for his very pregnant wife and something caught inside her throat. Shoving the thought away, she crouched so as to be able to hug little Victoire. The little girl had her mother's beauty, but Ginny could see a lot of Bill in her posture, in the way she carried herself.

"Auntie Gin!" the four year old cooed, quickly encircling her small arms around Ginny's neck.

"Are you excited to meet Santa, Victoire?" the read head asked, lightly touching her niece's nose. The toddler giggled and screamed an enthusiastic "Yeah!"

Looking at Victoire's silver curls, Ginny observed her husband comfortably setting himself in an armchair and rapidly engaging in a conversation with Ron and Hermione. Some things never changed, she thought, shaking her head. They would always be the trio, she knew, even if Ron's fingers were linked to Hermione's now. Nothing seemed to affect their friendship, forged in so many adventures and madness.

Harry caught her staring and flashed her one of his grins that always made her a bit weak in the knees. He didn't even realize how incredibly sexy he was when he smiled like that. She turned her back to him for fear that she wouldn't be able to help herself luring him to her bedroom and completely ignoring the rest of her family for the evening.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched Ginny walk away, with Victoire still nestled in her arms. He was aware of the fact that he was only twenty-three, but a small image of Ginny and himself walking down the quiet streets of their neighborhood, a small child between them, holding their hands, haunted him once in awhile. Then again, he was twenty-three and already married and nothing so trivial seemed to matter when he was with Ginny. She made everything alright and easy.

"Oi! When you're done staring at my sister, maybe you can wipe off that lovesick grin off your face and actually listen to what I'm telling you," Ron's voice broke the reverie, reminding him of his current surroundings.

"Ron," Hermione scolded, gripping her husband's hand a bit firmer, "I think it's actually sweet that they can express their love for each other so freely".

"What does that mean? Don't I express my love for you freely? I can do it right now, if you'd like. I will tell everyone in this room how much I love you! In fact, I think I'll do it right now," he said, clearing his throat. "Oi! You lot, I've got something to say!"

Everybody turned their heads to the tallest of the Weasleys, who had risen from his armchair to speak. Behind him, Hermione was hiding her head behind her hands, blushing a furious shade of red.

"I love this woman so much. There isn't a thing that I do not love about her: her hair, her eyes, her incredible concentration, her brains and not to mention the way she slaps sleazy little knobheads like Malfoy," he declared, unperturbed by his mother's protests at his choice of words.

"Relax, little bro, she already married you. Although why exactly is beyond me, mind you," George said, patting Ron on the shoulder.

The rest of the evening followed in the same light tone, filled with delicious smelling food and many second helpings of all of them. When they were finally well fed and watered and conversation came out in hushed tones as everyone started feeling drowsy, Mrs Weasley stood up to announce that it was time to exchange presents. They were already gathered underneath the Christmas tree at the back of the room and they all left their chairs to dig in the massive pile for their respective gifts.

"Wow, thanks Harry! Where did you manage to find this, I've been trying to get my hands on it for ages," Hermione beamed, getting up on her tip-toes to give him a small kiss on the cheek. She tenderly caressed her new massive book on Ancient Runes.

"A work colleague tipped me off a couple of weeks ago," he replied.

"Well, working in the Auror Department surely has its benefits," Hermione laughed.

"Hey, open mine!" Ron intervened, shoving his own gift into his wife's arms. Harry sighed, thinking his two best friends will never grow out of bickering all the time. Looking at the decreasing pile of gifts, he spotted a thin one with a green note on top. He instantly recognised Ginny's writing. Feeling a familiar warmth inside his chest, he headed towards it. Slowly trying to sense what was behind the Quidditch themed festive wrappings, he became aware of the fact that Ginny was watching him, an anxious expression on her face. She bit her lip, switching her weight from one foot to the other.

Harry's heart started beating faster as he gently opened his gift. Confusion greeted him at the sight of a green baby bodysuit. A rollercoaster of emotions washed over him, as confusion turned into flabbergast, to delight and to pure bliss as he understood what it meant. Clutching the small piece of cloth in his fist, he ran to his wife and caught her in an embrace that swept her off her feet. He was spinning Ginny and laughing at the top of his lungs, the happiness he felt rivaling only the one he experienced when she said I do.

"Oh, Ginny, this is wonderful!" Harry beamed, kissing his wife fully on the mouth, so passionately and intimately, forgetting or maybe not even caring that a room full of people were staring at them. Suddenly, they were again in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room and Ginny just lead their House into winning the final Quidditch match.

Ehem-ehem, Charlie cleared his throat next to them, as George wolfwhistled. "Before further snogging our sister, would you mind explaining what this is all about?" he asked and Ron vigorously nodded.

Before either of them could respond, Hermione simultaneously covered her mouth with her hand, shrieked, ran towards them and threw her arms round Harry and Ginny. "Congratulations!" she cried delighted.

"Ooooh," Fleur joined in the realisation, "zees eez wonderful, 'Arry, Ginny!"

One by one, every member of the extended Weasley family understood. Mrs Weasley almost cracked their ribs in the very wet hug she gave them, tears streaming down her cheeks and mumbling something that resembled oh, my little girl, a mother! Percy ceremoniously shook Harry's hand, taking advantage of the moment to insert a bit of advice and give his thoughts on the tough months that were to come, while Mr Weasley opened their oldest and finest Firewhiskey looking ecstatic.

"You better make me godfather," Ron threatened, pulling Harry into a brotherly hug and ruffling Ginny's hair.

When the bottle was empty and they were alone at last, back in their very own living room, Harry squeezed Ginny's hand. He did not let go of it the whole night, so intense were his feelings towards her.

"How long have you known?" he asked, holding her gaze.

"A couple of days," she smiled. "I wanted to tell you right away, but then I wondered if there wouldn't be any special way of doing it and I came up with this. Is it okay?" she asked, giving him another shy smile. It was so unlike her to feel shy, but the clash of emotions inside her kept taking her through the whole spectrum of feelings in a matter of seconds. That was exactly what made her suspect something had changed. After all, it wasn't like her to cry just because the pasta she was cooking broke into bits or because there are millions of abandoned animals in the world who would probably never get to see their families again.

"It was incredible understanding what you were trying to tell me!" Harry grinned madly. "I reckon I've never been so happy. I swear, my heart will burst out of my chest from all the pride I'm feeling. I'm going to be a father, Gin, a father!" he added, tightly hugging her again.

"And I'm going to be a mother! We're going to be parents, Harry!" she beamed, holding his glowing face in the palm of her hands and leaning in for a deep kiss. It seemed like they were kissing for hours, when he broke their lip-lock to ask if she thought it would be a boy or a girl.

"Oh, I've thought about it, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I hope our baby will have your eyes," she simply said. Harry felt tears forming at the corners of his emerald orbs and he tried blinking them away. He squeezed her right hand harder and got to his feet.

"Come on," came his reply, already heading towards their bedroom, Ginny's hand locked in his. He wasn't quite able to grasp the thought that he, Harry, was going to become a father, but right then there was something more important he needed to do. He had a mind to show her just how happy she'd made him and how much he loved her.

I fucking died for this, he mused as they fell on top of the covers.

Courtesy of LittleRose13's sharp eye for grammar. Thank you!