Ron and Hermione left soon after, bundled close against the snow. They told him, Hermione excitedly, Ron a little apprehensively, that they were going to try out the new Chinese restaurant a few streets over. Also apparently by pre-arrangement, Ron sent a Patronus message to his parents with Harry's assent to their request to come and see his new house. Harry sat gazing into the fire, still absorbing the new shape of things occasioned by Ron's question, as Kreacher bowed them out the door.
The Weasleys arrived almost immediately, also following a blast of cold air and snow in the front door. Nothing would do for Mrs. Weasley but that Harry give her a complete tour of the new house right away. She exclaimed delightedly over closets, bathroom fixtures, kitchen cabinets, and everything else that caught her eye, while Harry and Mr. Weasley caught each other's eye more and more frequently to exchange amused looks. Mrs. Weasley finally caught one of these and, smiling sheepishly, suggested they retire to Harry's new living room.
Once settled side by side on Harry's couch with glasses of oak-matured mead provided by Kreacher, the Weasley parents began to exchange meaningful looks of their own. Harry tried several times to start a conversation and stumbled over topic after topic, unable to find the right way to begin the question he had planned to ask, needed to ask.
Mrs. Weasley finally sighed, set her glass down and said, "Harry, dear, you have something you want to talk to us about, don't you?"
Harry felt an odd mixture of relief at her taking this out of his hands, and irritation that he was, again, being discussed. He took a deep breath and began speaking, with no idea what was going to come out.
"I wanted to ask you- well, I mean I wanted to ask Ginny… Also, what you think about … I mean…" He gave up for the moment, red-faced, as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again exchanged a meaningful look.
Mr. Weasley set his glass down as well and looked steadily at Harry. "I think I can help you out a bit here, Harry. You want to ask Ginny to marry you, but you want to ask us what we think about having the Chosen One in the family, the boy who's been at the center of so many mad adventures and is so much discussed in the Wizarding world."
Harry tried to pull himself together. "Yes, that's it exactly, I don't want to put your family through any more, I mean... My life hasn't exactly been quiet… And also, well, her Quidditch career… I don't want to disrupt-"
Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Weasley put a hand gently on her arm. Harry was quite unnerved by this, as it seemed that Mr. Weasley was preparing to say something that he had thought a good bit about, perhaps even prepared to say. Mrs. Weasley subsided and then nodded at Mr. Weasley.
"Harry, I'd like you to just listen for a moment, and let me get this said before you comment. Molly and I have discussed precisely what we'd say to you should you ever pose this question to us."
Harry felt as though his heart had stopped beating. Mr. Weasley looked directly into Harry's wide-open eyes and said, "We don't care a single thing for having the Boy Who Lived as part of our family, Harry, nor the Chosen One either."
Harry couldn't breathe. This was far worse than he could have imagined, and he was considering just jumping up and running upstairs to hide under the bed when Mr. Weasley continued, "But there's an incredibly brave and loyal young man, who has faced more things than any wizard his age should have had to face. He's protected his friends and saved the lives of several members of this family and remained kind and generous and humble despite all of it. That young man's name is Harry Potter, and he is so much more than just 'the Chosen One.' If our daughter chooses to marry him, nothing in the world would make us happier."
Harry was almost dizzy with the swirl of emotions that flooded through him as Mr. Weasley spoke. His lungs seemed to unlock, and he took a couple of ragged breaths. It seemed as well that the whirlwind of hope and trepidation that was going though his mind had shown clearly on his face, for Mrs. Weasley got up hurriedly from her seat on the couch and crossed to stand in front of Harry, her hands held out to him. Harry put his hands in hers, and she pulled him to his feet and wrapped him in a hug.
"Harry, dear," she said, her face somewhat muffled against his chest. "We wanted you to understand that we love you, Harry, just for who you are. Even if nobody knew your name, even though everyone knows your name, I'm delighted for Ginny to marry you."
Mr. Weasley rose too, and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, smiling. "I've said it before and I'll say it again - the day Ron sat with you on the Hogwarts Express was a good day for the Weasleys. I quite approve Ginny's taste in young men as well."
Mrs. Weasley pushed Harry back slightly, her hands on his shoulders. Harry could see her deliberate effort to regain her bustling, busy mother manner. She sniffled and wiped her face, then turned and pulled Harry over to sit beside her on the couch, with the air of a woman who has some important planning to do.
"Now, Harry, dear, we need to think. Have you given any thought to how you're going to propose? I'm sure we can make it wonderfully romantic."
Harry looked at Mr. Weasley for help, but he held up his palms toward Harry and shook his head, his face a moue of amusement, as if to tell Harry he was on his own with this one.
Some time later, after the proposal and the ring and the potential wedding and Ginny's combining Quidditch and marriage, and of course the new house, had been thoroughly discussed, Mrs. Weasley realized that she still had a dinner to prepare at her own house. Mr. Weasley had wandered off into the house with Kreacher some time previously, and once they had been discovered in one of the upstairs bedrooms discussing the addition of some bookshelves, the Weasleys bid Harry good night and to come as early as he pleased to the Burrow on Christmas morning.
Muffled in coat and scarves and such, Mrs. Weasley turned back at the door and said, "Harry dear, I'm so happy for you with this beautiful house. You've never had a home your whole life, it seems well-nigh time that you finally had one."
Harry felt a great rush of affection for this stout, red-haired woman looking up at him. If he couldn't have had his own mum and dad, then he was very fortunate to have Molly and Arthur Weasley. "But I did, I had the Burrow."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes sparkled suddenly as she held her arms out to hug Harry again. "And you always will."
Christmas Day at the Burrow was as loud and busy and comfortable as it had been in years past. Harry had arrived around nine that morning, bringing Kreacher along to assist Mrs. Weasley with the preparations. At noon, they'd all sat down closely around the Weasley's table, which seemed bowed in the middle under the weight of the dishes and plates and bowls of Mrs. Weasley's wonderful cooking, chattering excitedly at first and then falling silent as they went to work on the food. Harry was very aware of Ginny sitting next to him, of the smell of her, of every time her hair brushed his shoulder, of every movement of her hands above the table, of the weight of the ring in his pocket. She leaned against him as she laughed at something Bill said, elbowed him to demand his verbal support as she argued with Charlie about Quidditch fouls. Harry was content to just sit and be aware of her forever, but there was a question he intended to ask today. He tried to keep his mind off what it would do to his world if she said no, tried to keep that too familiar nervous buzzing from obliterating rational thought. All I can do is ask, he repeated to himself, for what felt like the hundredth time.
Later, after they'd all eaten until they squeaked, as Hermione said, everyone trailed into the living room and draped themselves over the furniture. Harry sat on the floor and looked around at the group, trying to gauge the mood, to sense the right time. He looked at Kreacher sitting in the corner by the fire, and Kreacher's batlike ears went up immediately. Ron and Hermione were cuddled together on the couch, and when he looked over at them, Hermione's eyes lit up and Ron gave him a furtive thumbs-up. Harry caught Mrs. Weasley's eye, and she nudged Mr. Weasley and they both nodded encouragingly.
Well, here goes. All I can do is ask. Harry rose from the floor and walked over to where Ginny was perched on the arm of the couch, idly leafing through a Quidditch supplies catalog, and held out his hands to her. She took them, her face full of questions, and allowed Harry to pull her to her feet. He led her into the open space in front of the fireplace, far too aware of all the eyes on the pair of them, of the expectation in the room. He took what felt like the deepest breath of his life, went to one knee on the floor in front of Ginny, still holding her left hand in his right, and with his other hand brought out the ring from his pocket.
"Ginny, love, I have a question for you…"