Whoo, a long one this time! Well, it happens when you jump ahead. Please R&R, including letting me know which characters need some face time! I know that I still need a George chapter, plus an Andromeda/Teddy chapter, a Fleur chapter . .anybody else that I'm blatantly missing? Maybe a Narcissa chapter, I always kind of liked her. Oh, I"ve got it! WINKY!!!!!
Also, I apologize for the extreme fluffiness of this chapter and the somewhat OCness of everyone. I'm in a bit of a weird mood, I guess
Harry was struggling. No matter how hard he tried, he just didn't think it was possible to fit one more present into his suitcase. It just wasn't going to happen.
"You want to give me a hand here, mate?" he asked Ron. The other boy was lounging idly on his bed, scattered gifts and clothes arranged around his body and an open, empty suitcase at his feet.
"Not 'specially," Ron replied. He was idly throwing a Quaffle in the air and catching it with one hand. Harry sighed, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He sat back on his heels to stare at his best mate.
"When are you planning on packing?" he asked. Ron shrugged and continued to focus on his ball throwing.
"Dunno," he said. "Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just stay here for holiday. Wouldn't be so bad. Some peace and quiet."
Harry rolled his eyes and resumed his attempts to force everything into the luggage. "Stop being a git and pack your stuff, Ron," he said, huffing as he now began to stomp on the bag angrily with one foot. "You. . .can't. . .avoid. . .her. . .forever!" With the last word it finally snapped closed, and with a flick of his wand the zipper flew across. With a heavy sigh he sat down on the bulging black bag.
"Reckon I could," Ron said, catching the Quaffle and sitting up. "I mean. . .we've got different classes, and she's in the girl's dorm. And s'pose she won't be invited again after Christmas. At least, I figure that Mum still likes me better."
With an abrupt popping sound, the bag flew open, spilling contents (and Harry) everywhere.
"Bugger, mate," Ron said, his eyes wide in his freckled face. "You might really need some help after all."
"Thanks," Harry said wryly, dusting off his legs and staring in dismay at all of his things. "You know what? I'll just go get Hermione. She can use that shrinking spell she used during the Horcrux search."
"Harry. . ." Ron pleaded, but Harry shook his head resolutely.
"Sorry, mate, I've tried to help you out," he said. "But it's not my fault you're so bloody thick. And besides, I'm sick of packing."
What he was really sick of, of course, was his best friend's arguments. He'd assumed that when they'd gotten together after the war. Things had seemed to be going well, they'd always been holding hands, whispering to one another, and then Ron had gone with her to Australia. But by the end of the summer the petty bickering was back, and this was already their second large blow-up.
"Hey there, Harry," Ginny greeted him as he entered the common room. She was perched comfortably in front of the fire, a small blue bag beside her. "Have you finished packing yet?"
"Hardly," he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "I can't get everything to fit in the suitcase. I'm going to ask Hermione for help."
"Good," Ginny nodded her head firmly. "Get her to stop moping. I don't know what my prat of a brother did this time, but it's sure got her in a fix."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. He definitely didn't know, either.
What he did know was that he was supposed to be on the way to the girls' dormitory to grab Hermione. He was supposed to finish packing. He was supposed to be on his way to the Burrow to celebrate the first free Christmas. What did he end up doing instead?
Sitting down beside his girlfriend and snogging her. Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter noted with intense satisfaction, was a good snogger in any circumstances, was was particularly skilled when her boyfriend was procrastinating.
"Oh, honestly," an annoyed voice broke them out of their. . .enjoyable enterprise, and Harry Potter found himself with a very guilty look on his face when he looked up to find his bushy-haired friend glaring down at him with crossed arms. "I hardly think your mother would find this to be a suitable reason to be late," she said.
Ginny grinned impishly. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "Mum has been going on about how she wants grandchildren."
Harry had wondered whether he was becoming more like a Weasley from all the time spent with them. As he felt a red flush take over his
face he was quite certain that he had, indeed, picked up some of their genetics.
"Now, really," Hermione said, still continuing her tirade. "I expect that you are both ready to leave. Am I right?"
"Oh, about that!" Harry said eagerly, finally remembering why he'd come down in the first place. He hurried to his feet, nearly tripping over the couch in his haste to get to his best friend. "I kind of need your help. Could you do that spell that you did when we were looking for the Horcruxes? To get everything to be smaller again?"
"Certainly, Harry," Hermione said, and Harry was relieved to see that she was looking somewhat pleased again. "What do you need it done on?"
"Just my luggage," Harry said. "It's up in the—"
But before he had a chance to finish, Hermione had turned a rather strange shade of pink, thrown her hands in the air, and started backing away.
"Oh, no," she said. "I can't go up there. It's quite against the rules and you know that. I would have to get Luna."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, you've been up there a dozen times. . .you hardly need to get the Head Girl. . ."
But Hermione had spun around already, bushy brown hair flying everywhere. Harry turned a confused look on Ginny, who immediately thumped him with a newspaper. The pictures on the front page began complaining, and rubbing their heads.
"Really, Harry!" Ginny said in an exasperated tone. "Don't you ever think?"
"I"
"Ron's up there," Ginny shook her head. "I wish I knew what had gotten into them."
"I know," Harry said, trying not to be smug. Usually gossip ran faster in the girl's circles. . .it wasn't often that he knew something before Ginny. But then, he supposed that Hermione had always been better at keeping secrets than him.
"What?" Ginny asked, curious. Harry's smile widened even further. Idly, his he fingered the small, velvet box in his back pocket. A part of him felt guilty for having it, for what it had done to his two best friends, but the greater response was the knotting in his stomach.
"You're going to ask her to marry you?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. Her eyes were wide and astonished, staring at the sparkling diamond. All three were gathered in the boys dormitory, Ron lounging idly against the wall, Harry standing in the center, and Hermione now balanced precariously on the edge of the bed. "Aren't you a bit young? Ron, what do you think about this?"
Ron shrugged, and Harry let out a long held breath. He'd been terrified that his best mate wouldn't approve, that they would once again have gotten into a long, drawn out row that ended in nothing good.
"Good for them,"Ron said. Hermione turned to look at him in disbelief.
"But your sister's only 17!"
Ron seemed to consider this for a moment. The tips of his ears began to turn pink, and Harry drew in another deep breath. "True," Ron said idly. "But still. It's going to happen eventually. And I'd rather they get married than. . .something else."
"Really?" Hermione sat back, and seemed to be thinking. "You think that 17 is an appropriate age to be married?" Her voice had a dangerous tone to it, now. Harry grabbed the box back and hurriedly stuffed it in the back pocket of his slacks. This was not looking good.
"I reckon," Ron said. "I mean, Harry's already got a job with the Aurors, and I'm sure Ginny'll line something up, she's smart. My mum was married at 17."
Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment. "They've been dating long enough?" she asked.
"A year, right, mate?" Ron asked, while Harry nodded. "Well, I suppose that if you know you're in love, there's no point in waiting, is there?"
"No point in waiting. . ."Hermione crossed her arms. Harry took a step back, but Ron still seemed to be oblivious. The girl continued, with a flat, almost angry tone to her voice. "So you're saying that if two people are of age, and have been dating for at least a year, and love each other, than they should get married?"
"Yes?" Ron said, and he seemed finally to realize that he was treading on dangerous ground with his girlfriend. Hermione glared at him, and Harry wouldn't be surprised to see some magicked canaries begin to fly around.
"And why, pray tell me," she ground out between her teeth. "Would a couple who have all of those traits not get married?"
"Well, they're probably not really in love," Ron said reasonably. "Otherwise why hold back?"
Hermione seemed, at that minute, to be struggling with either irrepressible anger or tears. Harry wasn't sure which. A moment later she threw a book directly at Ron's head and dashed out the door, yelling back
"You are the most thick-headed, impossible idiot in the world, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" And Harry was pretty sure that he heard a sob in there somewhere, too.
The Christmas dinner was a large affair. Mrs. Weasley had obviously made it her personal goal to ensure that everyone had a reminder of what a world free of Voldemort's terror was like. Everybody was there. All of the Weasley's had made it, and half of the Hogwarts staff, courtesy of Charlie's new position. Neville, Luna, and the rest of the DA had shown up as well, along with the Order.
"Wow," Ginny said as she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed up. "It almost looks like we have an army massed again."
Huge tents dotted the yard of the Burrow, and though they appeared as flimsy as any used for camping, their insides were large and warm. Mrs. Weasley immediately bustled up to greet all of them.
"Harry, you're looking well," she said after giving him a large hug. She looked critically at the rest of them, before ruffling Ginny's hair. "And you look well too, sweetie."
"Hey, Mum, what am I, chopped liver?" Ron asked. Mrs. Weasley winked at him.
"Maybe so," she said. "But I like chopped liver. Hermione, dear, you've gotten far too thin. Here, have some treacle tart."
And then she was off again, a battleship in the sea of her guests, making sure everyone was fed and watered.
"Hullo there," a tiny voice said. The four students turned to see their old friend Luna, looking as spacy as ever. Her golden stare shone on her chest, and Hermione's face tightened for a moment before relaxing. Harry sighed. Poor Hermione still hadn't gotten over the snub of having been passed over for Head Girl, though she seemed to understand the reasoning behind it.
"Hey, Luna," Harry said gamely, in unison with Ginny. "How's it going?"
"All right," Luna said. "I got plus marks in Care of Magical Creatures when I was able to prove to Professor Weasley that Karumpters really do exist."
"Wicked," Ron said. "Those are the ones with knives for hands, right?"
"Hello, Harry," Neville said, coming over to stand by them. He looked a little awkward there, in his professor robes. "You're. . .erm. . .doing well in class."
"Thanks, Prof-er, Neville," Harry said, equally confused. But Ginny just rolled her eyes and gave him a big hug.
"You're doing a terrific job," she congratulated him. "McGonagall definitely chose the right person for the job."
The next hour or so of the celebration was filled with such small moments as various people came up to congratulate Harry (on what he wasn't quite sure—on Christmas? The war had been six months ago!) But when the food was ready, Mrs. Weasley promptly had everyone sitting down.
"Thank you all for coming!" she gushed. "It was such a pleasure to have you all here. . .it is such a pleasure!" Mr Weasley pulled urgently on her sleeve, and she beamed down at him. "And now my husband would like to make a toast."
"Thank you," Mr. Weasley said, clearing his throat as he stood up. With a serious expression on his face, he raised his goblet. "Firstly, to my wife, for putting this all together." A smattering of applause. "And secondly, to my daughter, Fleur, who is expecting my first grandchild in a few months," more applause, as several eyes scanned over to the beautiful woman, who now looked a bit like a beautiful hippo with her stomach. "And finally, and most importantly, to all of us here today. We are the survivors, and while it hasn't always been easy, and it hasn't been without loss, we are here today, gathered in freedom, to celebrate in joy." This time there was a large round of applause. When it had ended, Harry found himself standing.
His brain was going crazy. Why had he stood up? His stomach was rolling over itself, and he suddenly wished that he had worn stronger deodorant. All eyes swiveled to him, waiting for the Boy-Who-Lived to make a speech.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, a little awkwardly. His voice cracked somewhere in the middle. Out of all the eyes staring at him, he found three to be the most awkward. Hermione, who's gaze was so sharp he thought she might kill something. Ron, with a knowing smile on his face. And Ginny, who just looked as though she thought her boyfriend had lost his mind.
"As you said, it hasn't been easy. The was wasn't easy, the year before wasn't easy, and even these past six months haven't been easy. We've all seen sacrifice and pain, and now we're finally beginning to see hope."
Everyone nodded their agreement, though most still seemed a bit confused. Little Teddy Lupin, balanced on his grandmother's knee, was the only one who seemed unaffected as he was happily smearing mashed potatoes all over his face.
"And today, I guess I'm hoping for. . .well. . .a little more hope," and then, under his breath, "Might as well get it over with. What's the worst that can happen? World wide humiliation."
He sank to one knee, and Ginny's eyes widened. Harry had to clear his throat twice before the words would come out.
"Ginevra Weasely, you are my hope. Throughout the war, you gave me the strength to keep fighting. Ever since I've met there you've been there for me, supporting me, loving me. And now I'd like the chance to support you, to give you back all of that love, a lifetime of love. Ginny, will you marry me?"
Silence. He was certain he'd never heard anything quite so silent. Not a clock ticked. All of the watches seemed to have stopped. Was that even possible? How could something like that be possible? Not a sound, not a sound. . .
And then everything sped into fastmotion and there was red in his face, his mouth, everywhere, and strong arms clasped around his neck nad the happiest voice he'd ever heard saying "yes, yes, yes, oh yes!"
Everyone was clapping, all around them, and Harry felt several hearty claps on his back. Ginny pulled away from him a moment, her brown eyes sparkling.
"Yes?" Harry asked, still, absurdly, needing confirmation. Ginny didn't even speak this time, she just leaned toward him and kissed him full on the mouth.
"Ginny seemed happy," Hermione said. Ron nodded his head. The two had escaped from the tent together, smiling awkwardly at one another. The secret was out, and some of the tension had disappeared now that they weren't keeping it.
"Ron, I'm sorry about how I've been behaving," Hermione continued, before Ron had a chance to say anything. The wind blew softly across the Burrow, and a few gnomes giggled behind bushes. "I've been completely ridiculous, and. . ."
"Hermione," Ron interrupted her. He grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and spun her around to look at him. "I want to marry you, you know that?"
"I. . .well. . .I" she said, flustered.
"But I don't want to marry you now."
"And what does that mean?" She was confused now, and Ron was confused, and there was nothing new about that, that was for certain.
"It means you're going on to school to become a Healer," he said firmly. "And I'm going to Auror training which takes six months. It means that for once I'm being the smart one."
In his mind, he was being the smart one. What kind of a person asked a girl to marry him when he couldn't afford the ceremony, when he wouldn't be seeing her for a long time? What kind of a man jeopardized the chances of success for a woman he loved? Things. . .happened. . .after marriage. Just look at Fleur!
"So?" Hermione asked, a bit of a spark coming into her eyes. "Harry's going to Auror training. Ginny's doing. . .well. . .something."
"It's not a competition!" Ron burst out, and he knew that somewhere Draco Malfoy would be laughing to have heard that come out of his mouth. "Maybe it's right for them. That doesn't make it right for us!" He couldn't figure out when he'd become the smart one, the reasonable one. Wasn't that supposed to be her job? He suddenly found himself feeling a little angry at her for dropping the ball.
"What about what you said, Ron?" Hermione asked. "That if you love each other you get married?"
"We do get married!" Ron insisted. He pulled her closer to him, ignoring her smaller fists pounding on his chest. "But not now, not this instant. Right now you worry about your N.E.W.T.S. and I worry about those Quaffles getting past me."
"Oh, honestly, Ron," Hermione sniffed. "You should be worried about your NEWTS, too. You know they're required to get into Auror training. If you would just apply yourself?"
"Are you serious?!?" Ron burst out. They stared at each other for a moment, her hazel eyes meeting his blue ones, and then simultaneously they burst into laughter, clutching at one another to keep from falling down.
"Talking about studying. . ." Ron finally managed to get out. Hermione giggled once more.
"I suppose there are more impotant things to be worried about right now than marriage," she said. Ron hugged her tightly.
"I love you," he said. "And we will get married. But when the time is right for us, not for anyone else."
"That," Hermione said, her voice muffled against her chest. "Is the smartest thing you've ever said."
"See?" Ron said. "And you were worried about me getting all of my NEWTS. Someday people might just say that I'm the smartest wizard of my generation."
"Ron," Hermione said. "Kindly shut up." Well, Ron, thought, that was a leading line if he'd ever heard one.
"Make me," He challenged her, and a moment later, standing on her tiptoes and hugging him tightly around the neck, she did just that.