A/N: A late Christmas present. Percy and Ginny realize how much they mean to each other. In the
purely bro/sis way, that is. No incest for me, thank you.

Disclaimer: the Weasleys and Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers.


Percy looked out his window, and sighed. Snowflakes gently floated through the air, falling and
adding to the purity of the layer already coating the ground. He had his window open, and seemed
to enjoy the blasts of chill air that embraced his face. His parents, had they been aware, would
have scolded him for wasting heat. Despite the fact that he was an adult, he was in their house,
and would obey them.

Percy fervently wished he were at his home. He had bought a flat in London about six months ago,
and had been living there ever since. Every morning he would get up, go to work, come home, do
more work, and go to bed. He would do the same thing the next day, and the day after that. He
enjoyed this routine, as it gave a structure and sense of stability to his otherwise chaotic life
.

It had nearly killed him to take a week off for Christmas. He had planned on spending it at his
home, alone, but his Mum insisted differently. 'Don't stay by yourself,' she had said. 'Christmas
is a time for family! Come and stay a few days with us.'

So he had agreed, hiding his reluctance so as not to hurt her feelings. But that request was why
he was here, in his old room, silently staring out the window, and mourning the holiday season.

He hated Christmas. It was a holiday that emphasized the so-called 'family unit', the importance
of togetherness. Percy had no special bonds with anyone, even within his own family. Lord knows
he tried to form strong relationships. He wanted someone to wonder where he was on Christmas,
and get him something special, not whatever was randomly thrown in the cart. But nobody did. He
was "The Wet Blanket" of the family, the spoilsport. Just because he was responsible, and worked
hard, they made fun of him. They didn't hate him, but they didn't go out of his way to love him.
He was s stranger within his own family.

He sighed again, and closed his window. Turning back to his bed, he hastily pushed aside a pile
of torn wrapping paper, and sat down. His family had no idea of his true identity, which was
evident by the gifts. They had no idea what to get him. From Mum and Dad, he had received a new
robe and socks. From Bill, a book. From Charlie, a book. From Fred and George, a set of quills.
At least that was something he could use. From Ron, he had received a book. What winning gifts.
But that was all they viewed him as, the Work-o-Holic Bookworm.

Getting ready to throw his trash away, he noticed a box he had overlooked. Flipping over the
tag, he read:
Merry Christmas Percy
I know you will appreciate this. I saw you eyeing it
when we were at Diagon Alley.
Love, Ginny

Ginny. He had forgotten about opening her gift. He thought back, and tried to remember when he
was with
someone at Diagon Alley. He was there when Ron, the twins, and Ginny were getting Hogwarts
supplies, but that was months ago. Had she remembered that long? And what was he "eyeing"?

Carefully tearing off the paper, he exposed a wooden box. Written on it in black script was
'Renaer Watercolors'. He gasped in surprise. He didn't think anyone knew of his passion. He was
a painter at heart, and his flat was evidence of that. Littered in the average mess of a
Bachelor was various empty paint tubes, piles of canvas, and brushes. He indeed was wistfully
looking at this set, but it proved to be too expensive at the time. How had Ginny been able to
afford it?

He remembered her working as a waitress at The Leaky Cauldron over the summer. She had made a
lot, but he hadn't expected her to spend any of it on him. He thought she had spent it all on
new dress robes, and presents for the rest of the family. Apparently he was wrong. He smiled as
he thought of what he got her. He hoped she would love it as much as he loved her gift from her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ginny sighed. It was Christmas Day. A glorious, supposedly peaceful and joyous Christmas Day.
Families were supposed to be together, sharing presents, delighting in each other's company.

So why did she feel so miserable?

It was the fourteenth Christmas in her lifetime. Fourteen days that all seemed to slowly
diminish in quality year after year. She remembered how grand the holiday seemed when she was
little. The excitement of racing down the stairs and tearing into what seemed to be a mountain
of presents. Yes, they had been mountains then, but over the years their relatives had slowly
dropped the task of giving gifts to nine people, and so now only her brothers and parents were
left.

It wasn't that Ginny was a belongings-hungry material girl. She just liked the feeling of
knowing she had been remembered. She liked reassurance that she had not been forgotten. That's
often what she felt like; The Forgotten Weasley.

She put on a fake smile, a fa├žade for her family, so they would not suspect er discontent. She
wouldn't want to be responsible for ruining her family's holiday.

It worked. Had they been paying more attention, they would have noticed how stiffly she accepted
her last gift, or how she violently blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall,
adding a misty look to her brown eyes.

She looked down at the gift she held in her hand, and immediately noticed something different
about it. All her others had been hastily shoved into wrapping paper or bags, with a few pieces
of tape hanging lackadaisically off the sides. This one was wrapped carefully, with almost
streamline perfection on the creases, and a bow wrapped carefully on the top. She peeled back
the paper carefully, revealing a simple wooden chest. On the top were the initials G A W in
black writing. Ginny Anne Weasley. She smiled, and opened it carefully. It held a small
leather-bound book, a bottle of color-changing ink, and a piece of parchment with something
written on it. She picked up the note, and her smile widened as she read it.

Dear Ginny,
I thought this gift would be to your liking.
Keep dreaming, or the world will seem as
harsh as it really is. If you stop you imagination,
you will have truly become an adult, and that
would be a waste of a wonderful person.
Your loving brother,
Percy

She grinned at the cryptic writing. It was just so - so... so Percy, that it was comforting. A
journal was exactly what she wanted. She didn't ask for it though, because her Mum would demand
to know what she needed to let out that she couldn't tell to her mother.

She looked around the room. Where was Percy? She supposed he had crept down to get his present,
then slipped back up to his room without notice. It didn't surprise her, he never was one to
spend time with his family.

But actually, she realized the truth of the situation. His family was never one to spend time
with him. It seemed she wasn;t the only 'Forgotten Weasley'.

Looking around again, she saw her Mum and Dad, Bill and Charlie, Fred and George, and Ron and
Harry and Hermione. All were interested in talking only to each other. They had no notice to
pay to their sister or missing brother.

Ginny got up, carrying Percy's present with her. Creeping up the stairs, she stopped at a door
on the second landing. A wooden plaque read "Percy's Room" in fading navy blue letters. She
knocked, then let herself in without waiting for an answer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Percy looked up as someone entered his room.

"Ginny?" he asked, surprised. "Why aren't you down stairs with everyone else?"

She sat down next to him, a sisterly smile on her lips. "I just realized where I'd rather be."

This remark was received by a wide grin from Percy. "Thank you for the watercolors."

"You're welcome. How did you know about the journal?"

He smiled again. "I'm not your brother for nothing. Merry Christmas Ginny."

"Merry Christmas Percy."

They enveloped each other in a warm embrace, finally enjoying the holiday. When they pulled
apart, Percy said "Next Christmas at my flat?"

Ginny grinned, the widest she had all break. "Definitely."