The fire in the Gryffindor Common Room had died down to black coals and white ash, occasionally outlined in vibrant orange. Ginny hummed Christmas carols under her breath as she finished clearing up from the party, swiping her wand over the dregs of the punch bowl, still feeling the warm lightheadedness that came from Seamus's not-so-secret addition to the recipe.
She wondered if Ron and Hermione--and Harry--would be at the Burrow tomorrow.
They'd been off since October searching for... something. They never did say what it was, but it really must be important--Her mum had let them go with hardly any persuasion at all.
The wireless was still softly playing music as she banished some napkins into the bin.
"Good party?"
She supposed she should have been surprised that he'd come from nowhere... seemingly from the walls or the air, but she knew that voice, and her smile broke even before she turned around.
"You're late, you know," she said, and then she crossed the room at a near run, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck, burying her face there and soaked in the smell of him. He smelled like winter--of chimney smoke and crisp outside air. His skin was still cold, but she didn't care. He returned her hug and smiled into her hair.
"Am I?" He said, smiling back at her, green eyes sparkling behind his glasses.
She nodded yes into his chest, where she'd rested her head, still holding him tightly. She should ask about Ron and Hermione, but all that seemed to matter was that he was here and he was safe and it was Christmas, and for just a while, she could forget about war and danger and Dark Lords that ruined everything.
After a long moment, she felt his hand on her cheek, and when she looked up at him, he kissed her.
"What was that for?" she said, though not really caring why.
He made no answer other than to look up to the ceiling, where a large bundle of mistletoe was hanging, tied with red and gold ribbon. It hadn't been there before he'd come in, and that made her smile even wider.
She wanted to tell him that she'd missed him, that Hogwarts was odd and empty and cold without him there, but she kissed him instead.
He grabbed her hand, lacing his now warm fingers through hers, and he wrapped his other arm around her waist. She easily fell into the comfortable rhythm of dancing with him.
He said, "It's good to be home," and it was then that she realised that the carol that was playing was O Holy Night.
"Yes, it is," she said, and she rested her head on his chest again, listening to the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear.
*fin*