"Just do it. Just go in there, be brave, and don't come back out until you've told them." Ginny was pacing up and down in the hallway of the Burrow as Hermione tried to prep her for the task ahead.

"Hermione, I can't do it." Ginny stopped pacing and looked at Hermione. Her face was pale. She could hear her parents' voices in the kitchen behind the closed door and her stomach churned unpleasantly, the stew she had eaten for dinner threatening to reappear. She knew her parents were not small-minded people, but they were still traditionalists. The more she thought about it, the more inclined Ginny was to think that her parents might not even know that people were gay. They had never mentioned anything regarding the topic, never mentioned that any of their friends were gay; a new wave of panic came over Ginny - what if she had to explain it to them?

"Ginny, you can do this, OK?" Hermione took her by the shoulders. "You just need to – oh, for God's sake." Hermione broke off as Ron came thumping down the stairs.

"What are you two doing?" Ron frowned at his sister and Hermione huddled outside the kitchen door.

"Nothing Ron, just…" Hermione put her hand on Ron's chest, pushing him gently back up the stairs.

"It's ok," Ginny said, taking a deep breath. "He may as well stay."

"What's going on?" said Ron, looking from Hermione to Ginny. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," said Ginny. "Not yet, anyway." She looked up at Ron. "I'm about to tell mum and dad I'm gay…"

There was a short silence, during which Ginny stared apprehensively at her brother. She had kept this hidden from him for so long that it seemed surreal to now hear the words leave her mouth. They floated around her like a pin pulled from a grenade. It suddenly occurred to her that she could not take it back – once the words were said, her secret was out and no amount of bargaining or backtracking was going to change that.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess that makes sense." He said simply, nodding at Ginny.

"What, so… you don't feel weird about it?" Ginny asked. Ron made a face.

"I love you, Gin. I don't care who you're with, as long as they treat you well. And support the Chudley Cannons."

Relief flooded Ginny and the misgiving she had been feeling moments before was replaced by a silent determination.

"I'm going to do it." Ginny's voice quivered with her newfound resolve, buoyed by her brother's easy acceptance. She closed her eyes, took one more deep breath, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the hallway.

Ron turned to Hermione as the door swung shut behind Ginny.

"Did you know about this?" He asked her.

"I found out last week," Hermione replied, "but I already had a pretty good idea."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron frowned down at Hermione.

"It wasn't my place to tell," Hermione shrugged, pulling Ron away from the door as he attempted to press his ear up against it to establish what was occurring on the other side. "I wanted her to tell you, but she wasn't sure how you'd react."

"How I'd react?" Ron stopped fumbling around his pocket trying to find an extendable ear and looked at Hermione. "How did she think I was going to react?"

Hermione hesitated, considering her response carefully.

"I don't know, Ron. This has been really hard for her. I think she knew that you would be fine with it – that you love her and that nothing could change that, but sometimes people start to think irrationally when they've been holding something in for so long."

Ron made a face.

"Bloody women. They're never thinking rationally."

Hermione rolled her eyes and started to climb the staircase.

"Aren't we staying to listen?" Ron asked disappointedly, but after catching Hermione's gaze, he reluctantly followed.

It was almost nightfall when Ginny eventually re-entered her bedroom, where Hermione was scribbling away on a bit of parchment at the desk. She looked up as Ginny entered.

"How did it go?" She asked carefully. Ginny's eyes looked red and puffy, but her face seemed relaxed and calm. She flung herself down on her bed and looked over at Hermione.

"It was awful," she laughed. "Mum cried. Dad was awkward. Mum cried some more. Then I cried, then we cried together, then mum cried some more, then dad almost cried, and then we had an awkward discussion about how wonderful they thought I was, regardless of being the black sheep who is disgracing the family."

"Ginny," Hermione laughed, "you're not the black sheep. Don't be ridiculous."

"I think they're actually OK with it. Like you say, with everything that's happened… it just seems to have given us all a bit of perspective."

Hermione nodded.

"I'm really proud of you," she told Ginny. "I know it wasn't easy."

Ginny smiled and let herself sink into her pillows, feeling, finally, like things were looking up.

As Christmas closed in on the Burrow, the tension Ginny had been feeling the whole holiday seemed to melt away. It was such a liberating feeling, allowing herself to fully be who she was. Nothing had changed, really – she wasn't introducing her parents to girls she'd brought home, nobody was treating her any different to how they usually did, but just knowing that they knew who she was made all the difference in the world.