The night before the Christmas holidays, I had a very graphic dream about sinking my teeth into my boyfriend's dad.

"Shit! What is it?!" Fred splutters after I wake him up from screaming like a banshee.

We are in the Room after having decided to crash there after the final Dumbledore's Army session before the holidays. Fred was due to go home and I was to stay on at the castle on my own, so we wanted a proper goodbye before being parted for two weeks.

"I just dreamt that I ate your dad!"

Fred frowns, rubbing a hand over his face as though to wake himself up better. "That's, um... disturbing."

"No, you don't understand - I think I really did eat your dad. We need to let someone know."

"Like a dream quack? Maybe Trelawney-"

"FRED, LISTEN TO ME!" I roar in his face. "YOUR DAD COULD BE DYING IN A POOL OF HIS OWN BLOOD RIGHT NOW! WE NEED TO SEND HELP!"

Fred just looks at me as though I'm the one who needs help. Which I suppose I am, but that's another issue for another day.

In the end he reluctantly agrees to come with me to see Dumbledore who definitely believes me. But the dude acts odd, and looks everywhere but at me, even when addressing me. Weird ass bitch. Maybe he's embarrassed because he knows Fred and I must have been doing it.

Next thing I know George, Ron and Ginny are being dragged into the office. Before I can say "Hi," we are pushed into the fireplace and I'm back at my Goddaddy's house!

Woo hoo, looks like I'm not going to be having such a lonely Christmas after all.

******

Too upset about the fact that her husband nearly died, Molly doesn't give a fuck about the sleeping arrangements, so we are free to make camp wherever we please.

Fred and I go back to the room we first did it in, and boy do we have some fun in there.

"When we get back to Hogwarts," I pant breathlessly after Fred whips off yet another full condom, "I'm going to go see Madam Pomfrey about going on the pill."

I mean, I probably should have done it the moment we started having sex, but it felt like jinxing things at the time.

Fred's eyes light up and he lowers his head to catch my lips in his. "I'd love to feel you properly," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

Molly doesn't barge in on us in the morning with a rude awakening, and when Fred and I stroll into the kitchen hand in hand, she doesn't even bat an eyelid.

"Eggs?" She asks, scooping a load of scrambled eggs on my plate anyway.

"Uh- thanks," I say, throwing a discreet smile at Fred, hardly daring to believe that Molly isn't calling me a whore.

"I want to thank you for saving my Arthur last night," Molly says, her tone stiff, but not unfriendly. "He would have- he would have died if you hadn't insisted on alerting Professor Dumbledore."

"You don't have to thank me, really," I say, embarrassed.

This time Molly looks at me, and it's the first time since that first day that I see genuine warmth in her eyes. "Yes I do. And I also concede that perhaps you are good for my son, after all. He's happy. And his happiness means a lot to me."

I want to smile so hard, that my face aches so much. I feel Fred's fingers slip around mine, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks, Mum," he says. "Because I was wondering if we could all stay on here for Christmas together? I want to spend it with you and Harri."

"Well, of course," Molly says quickly, "besides, your father will be remaining in St Mungo's and I was hoping we'd stay close by."

"Uh, do I get a say in this at all?"

We all turn to look at Sirius who is sat at the head of the table. "I mean, it is my house, isn't it?

He flashes me a smile and throws a discreet wink.

"Sirius," Molly bristles, "would you mind awfully some extra company over Christmas?"

"And miss out on the chance of an intimate Christmas with Kreacher?" Sirius hollars, stretching his arms over his head and cracking his knuckles, "why I think you might just need to pull my arm a bit there Molly."

I think it's the first time I've seen her laugh at something Sirius has said.

*****

Christmas is surprisingly jovial despite the circumstances surrounding our presence in twelve Grimmauld Place in the first place.

When I wake up in Fred's arms the morning of the twenty-fifth of December, he murmurs in my ear, "You know it isn't just Christmas Day today?"

"It's a Monday too?" I venture.

His eyes crease at the corners as he smiles down at me, his face still sleepy. "It's the one year anniversary of our first date."

Wow, one whole year. I feel quite proud of myself, and immensely grown up.

I wonder if I beat Angelina?

We exchange gifts in bed, like an old married couple. Except I don't give him a pipe and slippers, and he doesn't give me a cook book and apron.

No, he has bought me a beautiful, floor length, emerald green dress which must have cost him a fortune. "My Slytherin beauty," he murmurs, kissing my forehead.

"Fred you need to stop spending that money on me." I say, although I'm smiling because I love it - and him - so much. "It's for yours and George's future business."

"Which we couldn't have even begun without you."

I glance away, hating any reminder of that terrible night in the graveyard.

I give him my gift - a dragon skin maroon briefcase, engraved with his initials in gold lettering.

"I thought you could use it for all your business papers and stuff." I shrug when he thanks me for it, his voice choked with emotion as his fingers dance over the FW.

He kisses me hard and tells me it's the best gift he's ever received.

Molly makes a better Christmas dinner than even Hogwarts does. And not only that, she presents me with my first ever Weasley jumper (well, apart from Ron's hand me down).

It's green, matching the colour of my new dress, and has the letter 'H' knitted in silver wool.

"Welcome to the family, Harri," George chuckles, slapping a hand down on my shoulder as I hold up my new jumper with tears in my eyes.

It really is the best Christmas ever, and when Fred and I snuggle together under the blanket on the sofa that evening surrounded by his family, I wonder just how many more wonderful Christmases we will spend together.

"Merry Christmas, Harri," Fred whispers in my ear, kissing my hair as he holds me close to him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred," I smile up at him, allowing him to brush his lips against mine.

I'm in such a happy bubble, I never want it to end.

Only bubbles - no matter how high they fly - always end up popping.

*****