I still don't own it people.
Harry Potter was scared.
More scared than when he finished off Voldemort, to be exact.
He sat alone in the sitting room of the Burrow, just thinking about the last year and a half.
In that time, he had defeated Voldemort, helped round up the last of the death eaters, joined the Aurors and help convict the guilty. He had done all that, and yet he had never felt this kind of fear in his life.
He looked at his surroundings: The Christmas tree and the dying embers of the fire were the only source of light in the room, as the moon was hiding behind the clouds. He looked at one of the many mixed matched chairs in the room and smiled.
The burrow hadn't changed a bit, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Though there was a ping of something missing, but Harry knew it was because of Fred.
Harry chuckled at a sudden memory of Fred
If Fred could see me like this; he'd laugh his arse off at me. He thought, as he ran his hand through his messy black hair.
Harry looked at the old grandfather clock: it was just five thirty in the morning.
"Just a little while longer." He said to the empty room.
He had tried to sleep, but he found all he could do was toss and turn, so he came down to the kitchen as quietly as he could and made himself a cup of tea.
This year the burrow was packed, everyone was there this Christmas. The whole Weasley clan, a four month pregnant Fleur, Hermione and Harry. Teddy and his grandmother would be over later for breakfast.
The fact that the burrow was full of people didn't help with Harry's nerves at all. It made him a bit more uneasy he decided. Not that he wasn't glad he was there, he'd rather be here on Christmas than at his Flat alone; but the fact of nine people watching didn't help, it also didn't help that a few of them included over protective Weasley men.
At this thought he suddenly started to doubt his plan.
They might throttle me. He thought.
But it was too late to redo it now and to tell the truth he didn't want to redo anything.
No, he was going through with it, even if Ron decided to beat him in to a bloody pulp. Not that he thought Ron would do that, but he was nervous and he was taking in every possible outcome.
He sat in silence for what seemed like forever, until he heard the sound of floor boards from up above creek.
He felt his heart stop, or he thought it did anyway.
He stood up and his eyes came to rest on the stairs.
A second later Mrs. Weasley appeared.
She stopped when she saw Harry standing there. "Harry dear, what are you doing up so early?"
He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and said. "Couldn't sleep."
She smiled a half smile, walked across the room and embraced him. "Happy Christmas dear." She said.
"Happy Christmas Mrs. Weasley."
She let go, patted his cheek and headed in to the kitchen; where she began filling the kettle with water. Harry followed her and began taking eggs out of the basket near the cooker.
They worked in silence; it was routine now.
Harry fried the eggs and bacon, while Mrs. Weasley kneaded dough for scones.
When they returned back to the Burrow after the final battle, Harry began to help Mrs. Weasley with the cooking. At first, this action was caused by him not wanting to intrude with the Weasley's grief over Fred, as it gave him something to do and it also helped him to keep his mind from wondering to the 'What if's.'
But as time went by, he found that he rather enjoyed cooking. Harry thought that his new fondness of it had something to do with the fact that his Aunt wasn't barking at him to "Not burn anything." But he couldn't be sure.
Harry plated the last of the fried bacon, as Mrs. Weasley popped the scones in to the cooker.
With their work progressed to the furthest point that it could be at the moment, Harry poured both of them cups of coffee and they settled down at the table.
Harry looked out the window; the sun was pouring its light through it. Only a little while longer. He thought.
Harry drank his coffee for something to do. He was becoming more and more nervous by the minute. He was starting to wish he had done this in another manner or alone to be more precise.
Several floor boards from up above creaked and Harry gripped his cup in full force. Several minutes later, Mr. Weasley, Ron and Fleur (Followed closely by Bill) entered the kitchen.
"Bill it iz possible for me to walk by myself." said Fleur. "I'm pregnant, not ill!"
Harry snorted, but covered it with a cough when Bill looked at him.
"What's for breakfast Mum?" asked Ron, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Eggs, bacon and scones." She replied as she opened the door to the cooker.
There were several taps on the windows and Mr. Weasley went to relieve the owl of its delivery of the Daily Prophet. Fleur was now spouting off French at Bill in a fierce manner and Ron was sneaking bacon from the plate while Mrs. Weasley's back was turned.
Harry took it all in and couldn't help but smile, but then he remembered what was going to happen in a few moments and he suddenly felt sick and nervous again.
"You alright mate?" asked Ron.
Harry nodded and took another sip of his coffee. Ron just shrugged and ate the last of his stolen bacon.
Just as Mrs. Weasley was removing her scones from the oven, Percy and Charlie entered the kitchen discussing Dragon regulations. Then a split second later, a blood piercing scream echoed from the floor above.
Everyone froze; but none more than Harry.
Then everyone looked at each other, well all but Harry that is. He was currently looking at his half filled coffee cup, wondering if he could drown his self in it.
Then a split second later Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron moved as one towards the stairs, but they stopped when they reached the first stair.
The group of men parted as a shocked looking Ginny Weasley made her way through, followed by Hermione and George.
Harry stood up as Ginny stopped two feet in front of him.
George on the other hand walked right up to Harry and slapped him on the back a few times for good measure. "Good one mate. Original that one was." Then he took a seat and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Harry paid him no attention as he stared at the red head in front of him. He was silently cursing at his self for doing this in this manner.
What he had done the previous night was to place a diamond ring among Ginny's gifts, with a bow attached to it. And written on the end of the bow in his untidy handwriting was simply: Marry me
Ginny simply stared at him with the bow in her hand. This was the last thing she had expected but she was completely overjoyed. She opened her mouth to speak but she lost the words she wanted to say as she looked at him.
Harry on the other hand was completely freaked out. He had thought about this for months and had paced the house half the night and all she was doing was staring at him.
"You're serious?" she finally said.
May be this is too soon. He thought. She just started playing for the Harpies and here I am proposing.
But he nodded his head….once.
"Err…Ginny? I think he's waiting for an answer." said George.
"Answer for what?" asked Ron.
Ginny turned and glared daggers at George. "I'm bloody getting there!" she said and she turned back to face Harry.
She studied Harry's face for a moment longer as if she were searching for something. Finally she smiled and simply said. "Yes"
You would have thought Harry's favorite Quidditch team had just won the World Cup by his reaction. His nervous face turned to one of pure joy and then he proceeded to lift Ginny off her feet and twirl her around.
Forgetting about everyone around them, he put her down and pulled her into a meaningful kiss.
The room erupted in shouts of delight when they had caught on as to what was happening.
All the nervousness, fear and doubt left Harry's body and for once in his life, and even more so than when he finished off Voldemort:
Harry Potter was happy.