"(Ginny's hot chocolate) was made from a recipe that had been passed down through generations of Weasleys (at least, according to her mum). Anyone who had ever tasted it agreed: It was the richest, creamiest, most delicious hot chocolate they'd ever had." - Sarea Okelani, Balm
From her small kitchen, Ginny heard the clock in the living room strike ten.
It was Christmas Eve. She had already seen the visitors that she'd truly expected to drop by her townhouse when she'd issued the invitation. And yet, she was in the kitchen, making another pot of the legendary Weasley hot chocolate, in the hopes that there would be one more knock on the door.
And, she thought to herself as she stirred another piece of Honeydukes' chocolate into the pot on the stove, if I'm still alone at midnight, I'll sit by the fire and drink the whole damn thing myself.
Weasley family tradition dictated the large family dinner that they had held every Christmas day since Ginny could remember. When she'd moved out of the Burrow and into the East London townhouse upon taking the position in Auror Headquarters at the Ministry of Magic, she'd determined to start her own Christmas tradition. She'd tacked up a notice at the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, spoken to her colleagues at work, and owled all of her Hogwarts friends, inviting all to come by and share chocolate and conversation on Christmas Eve.
Her eldest brothers, Charlie and Bill, had stopped by early on with their girlfriends and were her first Christmas visitors. Precisely at five, Fred and George had Apparated over from the WWW, and had threatened to make a mess of her home while discussing animatedly their newest line of pranks. Percy had owled at 5:45, apologizing for being unable to visit .. with Percy, everything was an emergency that required him to stay late at work. And at 6:30, her parents had arrived on her doorstep, with her brother Ron in tow.
That visit had been blissfully short. Ginny pushed thoughts of it from her mind, and remembered her subsequent guests with much greater happiness.
At seven, a bunch of her colleagues had arrived. She had been honoured by their visit; having Kingsley, Remus, Tonks, and Moody sitting around her dining room table made her feel less like an impostor and more like a valued member of the Order of the Phoenix. They didn't speak of Order affairs, of course, and they didn't stay long; but the sense of belonging that their visit bestowed upon her was one of the best gifts she'd take away from this Christmas.
Her school friends had begun to arrive at eight, and had arrived in a steady stream for an hour and a half. At one memorable point in time, she had Colin and Dennis Creevey, Luna Lovegood, Hannah Abbott, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan all tucked into her tiny den, sitting in front of the fireplace, holding mugs of chocolate and howling with laughter over memory books and reminiscences.
Of course, Christmas was a busy time of year, and everyone had other places they needed to be. Ginny hadn't expected for her house to be as empty at 10 PM as it had been at 2 PM, but she understood.
She stirred the pot of chocolate, and determined that it was done. She turned down the heat and started walking back to the den when the knock announced the arrival of someone at her door. In the moment that she stood frozen to the spot, she realized that the hopes which had forced her to make that last pot of chocolate hadn't been very high at all.
She forced herself to take one step down the hallway, one step closer to the door. After that first step, the next was easier, and the third easier yet. She reached the door and paused, one hand on the doorknob, before summoning her Gryffindor bravery and opening it.
Three people stood on her doorstep, but she had only time to grin at the first one before she'd been pulled into a hug that spoke of good friendship that could count the time since its last visit in years.
"Hey, Parkinson."
"Merry Christmas, Weasley."
Ginny pulled Pansy into the hallway, allowing her two companions escape from the chill December air, and closed the door behind them. She accepted a kiss on the cheek from Blaise Zabini, and felt for the briefest of moments the touch of a hand at her elbow.
The hand that was attached to the same body carrying the pair of grey eyes that she'd hoped very much but not really expected to see in her home that Christmas Eve.
Ginny refused to think about that, too, as she gestured down the hallway to the den at the end. "Please, make yourself at home," she said. "I'll join you momentarily." She walked into the kitchen and put four clean mugs and the pot of chocolate on the tray that had been carrying mugs and chocolate all evening. As she reached for its handles, she noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.
All right. I admit that his presence makes me feel like an ickle firstie caught sneaking down to the kitchens by the Head Boy. I do not have time to sit here and be nervous; I have houseguests, and a duty to bring them chocolate.
She resolutely lifted the tray from its position on the counter and headed for the den.
~*~
"I was expecting you to bring Neville," Ginny said thoughtfully from her cozy perch as she sipped at her chocolate. She'd settled gracefully into the armchair next to the fireplace, and tucked both feet under her.
"He sends his regards," Pansy replied. "He had some .. family duties to attend to this evening, and didn't feel up to being cheery."
Ginny could imagine what those family duties entailed; she remembered seeing him at St Mungo's with his parents, the Christmas of her fourth year at Hogwarts. Had she been in his shoes, she wasn't sure that she would be up for socializing either. "Let him know he was missed," she said, smiling slightly.
"Of course. I'm having dinner with him and his redoubtable Gran tomorrow; I'll be sure to pass along the message."
Ginny laughed. "Good luck with that."
"Thanks. I'm going to need it, I think." Pansy drank from her own chocolate. "So which of our extended circle of schoolmates stopped by this evening?"
"No one to concern yourself with, really .. mostly Gryffs. The Creeveys, Dean, Seamus, Luna, and Hannah."
"Hannah the Hufflepuff?" Blaise snorted. "Didn't you hold her responsible for the incident that caused so much trouble our last year?"
Ginny grinned widely. "Yeah, but I decided that she was okay when she took me aside a couple days afterward and told me, using your exact words Pans, that MacMillan was a pretentious bastard who didn't get knocked off his complacency nearly enough." She took another sip of chocolate. "Besides, I didn't have to invite her - she's engaged to Dean, so she arrived with him."
"Thomas and Abbott. Now there's a pairing I would never have imagined myself - it might have given me nightmares." Ginny's heart gave an erratic thump as Draco's voice reached her ears, and she pushed the less-potent Ginny Weasley smirk onto her face before she brought her eyes to look in his direction.
Pansy's next question saved Ginny - she was in serious danger of being unable to pull her eyes away from the tall blond across from her. "What, the Siamese triplets didn't show?"
Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her mug. "My brother was kind enough to attend. Or, rather, my parents dragged him, kicking and screaming, up the walk. Nice way of him to behave, considering that he's been avoiding me since the screaming match we got into at Kings' Cross in June."
Everyone in the room knew that Ron and Ginny's relationship had been extremely strained since the explosive screaming match in the Great Hall at the beginning of her sixth year, still referred to in some circles as the War of the Weasleys. It had taken Ginny three weeks to calm down enough to apologize to her brother for her lack of self-control in that episode - not apologizing for speaking the truth that Ron hadn't wanted to hear. For a year and a half after that, small battles were fought on a weekly basis, and they had some spectacularly large ones - chief among them caused by Ginny's gesture of goodwill to Draco when they were initiated into the Order of the Phoenix.
The one that threatened to split the family in two, however, had been the Kings' Cross fiasco. The day had been sunny and warm, a good omen for the future of the newest fully-trained wizards and witches to come out of Hogwarts. The entire Weasley family, as well as Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Pansy, and Blaise waited at the station to greet Ginny, and to carry her off to the Burrow for a surprise party.
All had gone well until Charlie had asked his little sister, as he swept her up into a grand hug, what she intended to do with her life now that she was done with school.
Ron and Mrs. Weasley had attempted to disabuse Ginny of the notion that she would ever be allowed to take the Auror Studies course, and nearly exploded when Ginny retorted that it was too late for that, because she'd already accepted the offer from the Ministry. When, after Ron had insulted his sister several times, she fled the station, it had been Tonks and Pansy that had followed.
They'd calmed her down, filling her ears with reminders that she was of age and perfectly capable of making her own career choices. Once she'd washed her face and restored her hair to order, Ginny had returned to the Burrow, to discover that the division ran straight down the middle of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Bill, Charlie, and Harry thought that Ginny had no business attempting to become an Auror; Mr. Weasley, Percy, Fred, George, and Hermione thought that if the Ministry had full faith in Ginny's abilities - and after all, wasn't Ginny the Weasley family's only Hogwarts Head Girl? - that she deserved the chance to try.
Ginny had arrived in the middle of this glorious row. After screaming for silence, she thanked her family members for their concern, reminded them of her status as an adult witch, and remained firm on her decision to attempt Auror Studies. She swept up the stairs to her childhood bedroom; by the time her hand touched the doorknob, she was resolved to find her own flat at the earliest opportunity.
In the month between Ginny's homecoming and the day she moved into her townhouse, she had managed to regain the good graces of her mother. After several owls between Egypt, Romania, and the Burrow Ginny had brought Bill and Charlie around to the idea that their little sister was a much more capable witch than they'd originally given her credit for.
But on the day that Ginny took possession of her townhouse, empty yet alive with the possibilities of making it a reflection of her own spirit and vitality, thoughts of what Ron had said to her on the platform at Kings' Cross still brought hostile tears of anger and sorrow to her eyes. On the few instances she'd encountered her brother since, the anger just wouldn't be pushed aside .. meaning that for the first time in eighteen years, Ginny and Ron Weasley had gone nearly six months without speaking.
"He's an idiot," Pansy stated in no uncertain terms.
"It does raise a question, though, Ginny," Blaise said, looking honestly confused. "When we left school, you were determined to sit the Mastery exam for Potions and considering teaching. How did you end up in the Auror Studies program?"
Ginny poured herself another mug of chocolate before turning to answer his question. "I hadn't even thought of the possibility of becoming an Auror until I got the owl from the Ministry, informing me of my eligibility. I wasn't sold on the idea of teaching, though, and there was nothing stopping me from sitting the Mastery exam and becoming an Auror both."
When it was evident that she wasn't going to say any more, Pansy grinned. "Oh, come on, Weasley. Tell him what you told me."
"Very well. I did it because my parents have been treating me like glass since I started school, and that when they found out they'd throw a fit. I wanted to show them that I was made of stronger stuff than they'd imagined."
"You were expecting the uproar."
"Yes."
"You entered Auror Studies with the express goal of enraging your family." Blaise whistled in admiration. "It makes sense, though. What other motivation could you possibly have, with your bodyguard brothers?"
The smile on her face froze, and he knew he'd said something wrong.
"What is it, Ginny?" Pansy asked with concern.
Ginny shook her head. This wasn't the time, her mind screamed, and she scrambled for a plausible cover. "You assign my brothers entirely too much familial affection," she said, a lightness in her voice that didn't reach her heart. "I assure you, in the majority of cases the best that can be ascribed to them is enlightened self-interest."
Laughs greeted this remark, and she felt as though she'd earned a slight reprieve. The holiday of light and friendship and laughter was not the time to be discussing Dark secrets and despair, not when some idle, insignificant Tuesday would serve just as well.
A real smile blossomed across her face. "So. It's been ages since I've seen you, Pans. What have you been up to?"
~*~
Ginny looked up at the clock, to discover that sometime between Pansy discussing her work in procurement for the Diagon Alley Apothecary and Blaise going on excitedly about his position in the Department of Magical Transportation, the hours had slipped away. Christmas Eve turned into very early Christmas morning with only quiet conversation for fanfare.
She'd known it was late, because her mind was finding itself on tangential trains of thought more and more frequently. She was still amazed, however, at how easy it had been to sit around her small fireplace and talk for hours of subjects that seemed awfully grown-up.
She'd gotten lost in thought about how Pansy Parkinson, Princess of Slytherin House, had ended up seeing Neville Longbottom of all people. When she'd found out, after their class had left Hogwarts, that Pansy and Neville had turned a common affinity for Herbology into a clandestine meeting on their last Hogsmeade weekend and regular, if infrequent, dates in Wizarding London after finishing school, Ginny expected that at some point the differences between Neville's and Pansy's personalities would come into conflict, and bring about an end to their relationship.
The fact that Neville was introducing Pansy to Gran Longbottom the next day revealed the error of her thinking.
And then there was the conundrum that was Draco Malfoy sitting in her den.
In a plot that issued directly from the sneaky, Slytherin part of her brain, she'd conceived of this little Christmas Eve gathering .. inviting all of her family, friends, and colleagues in, just to see who was really interested. Of course, there was the small complication that he'd arrived with Pansy and Zabini; it was entirely possible that he'd originally planned to stay away, but was cajoled into coming. "She was my school friend and your Potions groupmate," Ginny could hear Pansy saying in her imagination, "certainly you can spend a couple of hours in polite conversation."
The plot was so carefully crafted, but with no definite conclusion. It began with the mystery that was Draco Malfoy, and ended the same exact way.
Ginny could have spent hours wondering what it all meant. The fact that he had, even considering any simpering her friend had done, accepted the invitation she'd extended when it would have been so easy for him to make a polite excuse. The meaning of the looks he'd given her that day at the Ministry, just a couple of weeks before. Her newly-discovered inability to wrench her eyes away from him of her own accord.
She was rescued from that ungracious lapse of hostess protocol by an exclamation from Zabini. "Merlin, it's almost one in the morning."
"Ginny," Pansy said, standing up in the manner of someone who was extremely comfortable and would rather stay where she was than move. "As much as I could easily stay another couple hours and play catch-up, I really shouldn't. Neville will be calling for me early, and I don't want to make the wrong impression on his Gran."
"It's okay, Pans," she replied quietly. "It's late. I'll get your cloaks." Ginny padded out to the hall closet, and by the time she'd taken Pansy's cloak off its hanger and turned around, the rest of their small party had followed.
"You'll have to owl me when you get back from Mrs. Longbottom's," she said to Pansy. Her guest took the lush, forest green velvet from her hands and she turned back to the closet to find Zabini's cloak. "I admit to being insanely curious to hear how you fare at dinner."
Pansy's tired chatter about meeting Neville's Gran kept Ginny's attention as she handed Blaise his cloak, and returned to the closet once more. "Perhaps in the next couple of weekends we can get together for lunch," Pansy suggested.
"I'd like that," Ginny replied quietly, at the exact moment that long, graceful fingers brushed her own as their master reached for his cloak. She knew that her brain was responding to Pansy. The erratic little thump her heart gave was a response of an entirely different kind.
She needed to know - know whether or not the touch was intentional, whether or not his presence indicated the possibility of ... well, she wasn't sure exactly what, whether or not the little glances that had passed between them at Auror Headquarters had meant anything at all. Part of her entertained briefly the thought of gracefully pulling him aside and asking him for a few moments of his time, until she realized that it was late, she was tired, and the chances of her making a right mess of things were greater than half.
She knew that sending an owl after she'd had time to sleep (and plenty of opportunity to revise her message to perfection) was the safer option. It conflicted directly with the part of her heart that reminded her that if she were really concerned with safe options, she would be engaged to someone sweet, utterly Gryff, and as exciting as mashed potatoes ... the Colin Creevey type, and not infatuated with Draco Malfoy. She'd spent enough time at the edges of the seventh-year Slytherin social circle to know that Draco rarely gave first chances, much less second ones.
Ginny was determined not to need a second chance. She would send the owl.
She saw her guests out, knowing no more than she had when the evening started, yet feeling more calm for having a plan. She'd gathered all of the mugs from the den and returned them to the kitchen, and extinguished all but one light in the hallway. She had her foot on the bottom stair, headed towards her bedroom and a well-earned rest when there was one more knock on her door.
Without thinking, she crossed the hall, whispered the words that brought down the wards, and swung it open. She wasn't entirely sure exactly who'd she'd expected to see standing there, but the plan that she'd so recently crafted and stowed in a comforting, warm place in her brain would never have allowed her to hope that it might be Draco on the other side of the door.
Shows how much it knew, anyway. "Forget something, Malfoy?" she said in a conversational tone as she made a welcoming gesture with her free arm.
"That's what Parkinson and Zabini think," he replied as he brushed past her, only to stop in the middle of the hallway. She'd barely had enough time to close the door behind him - decidedly not enough time to ask what he'd meant by his reply - before he'd lowered his head and pressed soft, warm lips against her own. Her eyes fluttered closed against the onslaught of emotion such a simple thing had loosed - unexpected warmth and tenderness and in the back of her mind a tiny voice repeating a chance, a chance, a chance..
"Forgotten something, I think not." He lifted her chin with one finger, raising her gaze to meet his own. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the day you and your little army of firsties walked through the damn doors at the Ministry two weeks ago."
She was drowning in pools of molten silver, intoxicated by his confession. Before he could say another word, or her logic and reasoning could warn her off, she had put her arms around his neck, and pulled him within reach of her own kiss.
Hers was demanding and passionate instead of questioning and gentle. She kissed him with all the fervor of the schoolgirl crush she'd nursed through weeks of working together, with all of the wistfulness of months where he wouldn't leave her memory. The passion of countless dreams filled with his image rose in her, and all the giddy hopefulness of innocent touches and accidental meetings, and the hopefulness and joy of an invitation extended to all when the only one that really mattered was the one she was kissing.
She could sense his surprise at her reaction, and for the briefest of moments felt a wave of self-doubt rise in her stomach. It vanished the moment she felt him relax into her kiss, and a curious little warmth begin to radiate in her chest as his arms came up to gather her closer.
It was like she'd been freed from a cage of her own making, like she'd been earth-bound all her life and had finally learned that she had wings. Her heart soared in exhilarating liberty, beating at the same jubilant pace as his. His lips parted hers and she let out an involuntary moan.
She'd not intended to let him take the upper hand, and yet it was utter perfection, the touch of his tongue tracing her upper lip, the pressure of his arm - Seeker's arms, the unbidden thought floated into her conscious, serving only to increase the awareness of her senses - encircling her shoulders, pulling her closer to him than she'd ever let herself imagine. She thrilled repeatedly at the touch of his fingers tracing gentle patterns across the fabric of her jumper. She raised one hand to tangle her fingers in the fine, white-blond hair at the nape of his neck, and slipped the other under the winter cloak he still wore to wrap her arm around his waist.
Ginny could have stood in her hallway for hours, entangled with the young man who had been unreachable until the moment he'd bridged the gap between his world and hers with a brush of lips. As it is, she couldn't be certain how long the kiss had lasted at the moment Draco pulled away slightly, his breaths uneven, to lay his cheek against her forehead.
"Gin," he breathed. Not Virginia, the name he'd called her since their initiation into the Order. Not even Ginny, the name she'd been called by her circle of family and close friends since the moment of her birth. She'd never liked being called Gin .. not until she'd heard it fall from the lips of this gorgeous young man who'd said it as though he had only one breath to spare, and by Merlin's blood, he was going to spend it on her.
She knew that she would think of kisses and touches, the intoxicating and heady feelings that had welled from some secret corner of her soul, every time she heard it for the rest of her life.
"Mmmm?" she murmured by way of reply. She was entirely too comfortable to do anything except for marvel quietly at the feeling of his touch.
"As much as I enjoyed that, I was expected at home some time ago."
Ginny nodded, and pulled her hands away from their warm resting spots to cross her arms over her chest, but at the last moment Draco captured her hands in both of his own. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, "Some day, you WILL tell me just where that came from."
"Maybe," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling with the barely-suppressed excitement that was flooding through her. She moved to the door and held it open for him, a tiny, secretive smile crossing her lips despite her best efforts to restrain it. "It all depends on whether I remember about it some day."
His lips quirked before they brushed against hers one last time. "Do try to remember." He stepped across the threshold to disappear into the blackness of early morning, but not before looking at her with an absolutely devastating expression and saying, "Thanks for the chocolate."
From her small kitchen, Ginny heard the clock in the living room strike ten.
It was Christmas Eve. She had already seen the visitors that she'd truly expected to drop by her townhouse when she'd issued the invitation. And yet, she was in the kitchen, making another pot of the legendary Weasley hot chocolate, in the hopes that there would be one more knock on the door.
And, she thought to herself as she stirred another piece of Honeydukes' chocolate into the pot on the stove, if I'm still alone at midnight, I'll sit by the fire and drink the whole damn thing myself.
Weasley family tradition dictated the large family dinner that they had held every Christmas day since Ginny could remember. When she'd moved out of the Burrow and into the East London townhouse upon taking the position in Auror Headquarters at the Ministry of Magic, she'd determined to start her own Christmas tradition. She'd tacked up a notice at the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, spoken to her colleagues at work, and owled all of her Hogwarts friends, inviting all to come by and share chocolate and conversation on Christmas Eve.
Her eldest brothers, Charlie and Bill, had stopped by early on with their girlfriends and were her first Christmas visitors. Precisely at five, Fred and George had Apparated over from the WWW, and had threatened to make a mess of her home while discussing animatedly their newest line of pranks. Percy had owled at 5:45, apologizing for being unable to visit .. with Percy, everything was an emergency that required him to stay late at work. And at 6:30, her parents had arrived on her doorstep, with her brother Ron in tow.
That visit had been blissfully short. Ginny pushed thoughts of it from her mind, and remembered her subsequent guests with much greater happiness.
At seven, a bunch of her colleagues had arrived. She had been honoured by their visit; having Kingsley, Remus, Tonks, and Moody sitting around her dining room table made her feel less like an impostor and more like a valued member of the Order of the Phoenix. They didn't speak of Order affairs, of course, and they didn't stay long; but the sense of belonging that their visit bestowed upon her was one of the best gifts she'd take away from this Christmas.
Her school friends had begun to arrive at eight, and had arrived in a steady stream for an hour and a half. At one memorable point in time, she had Colin and Dennis Creevey, Luna Lovegood, Hannah Abbott, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan all tucked into her tiny den, sitting in front of the fireplace, holding mugs of chocolate and howling with laughter over memory books and reminiscences.
Of course, Christmas was a busy time of year, and everyone had other places they needed to be. Ginny hadn't expected for her house to be as empty at 10 PM as it had been at 2 PM, but she understood.
She stirred the pot of chocolate, and determined that it was done. She turned down the heat and started walking back to the den when the knock announced the arrival of someone at her door. In the moment that she stood frozen to the spot, she realized that the hopes which had forced her to make that last pot of chocolate hadn't been very high at all.
She forced herself to take one step down the hallway, one step closer to the door. After that first step, the next was easier, and the third easier yet. She reached the door and paused, one hand on the doorknob, before summoning her Gryffindor bravery and opening it.
Three people stood on her doorstep, but she had only time to grin at the first one before she'd been pulled into a hug that spoke of good friendship that could count the time since its last visit in years.
"Hey, Parkinson."
"Merry Christmas, Weasley."
Ginny pulled Pansy into the hallway, allowing her two companions escape from the chill December air, and closed the door behind them. She accepted a kiss on the cheek from Blaise Zabini, and felt for the briefest of moments the touch of a hand at her elbow.
The hand that was attached to the same body carrying the pair of grey eyes that she'd hoped very much but not really expected to see in her home that Christmas Eve.
Ginny refused to think about that, too, as she gestured down the hallway to the den at the end. "Please, make yourself at home," she said. "I'll join you momentarily." She walked into the kitchen and put four clean mugs and the pot of chocolate on the tray that had been carrying mugs and chocolate all evening. As she reached for its handles, she noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.
All right. I admit that his presence makes me feel like an ickle firstie caught sneaking down to the kitchens by the Head Boy. I do not have time to sit here and be nervous; I have houseguests, and a duty to bring them chocolate.
She resolutely lifted the tray from its position on the counter and headed for the den.
"I was expecting you to bring Neville," Ginny said thoughtfully from her cozy perch as she sipped at her chocolate. She'd settled gracefully into the armchair next to the fireplace, and tucked both feet under her.
"He sends his regards," Pansy replied. "He had some .. family duties to attend to this evening, and didn't feel up to being cheery."
Ginny could imagine what those family duties entailed; she remembered seeing him at St Mungo's with his parents, the Christmas of her fourth year at Hogwarts. Had she been in his shoes, she wasn't sure that she would be up for socializing either. "Let him know he was missed," she said, smiling slightly.
"Of course. I'm having dinner with him and his redoubtable Gran tomorrow; I'll be sure to pass along the message."
Ginny laughed. "Good luck with that."
"Thanks. I'm going to need it, I think." Pansy drank from her own chocolate. "So which of our extended circle of schoolmates stopped by this evening?"
"No one to concern yourself with, really .. mostly Gryffs. The Creeveys, Dean, Seamus, Luna, and Hannah."
"Hannah the Hufflepuff?" Blaise snorted. "Didn't you hold her responsible for the incident that caused so much trouble our last year?"
Ginny grinned widely. "Yeah, but I decided that she was okay when she took me aside a couple days afterward and told me, using your exact words Pans, that MacMillan was a pretentious bastard who didn't get knocked off his complacency nearly enough." She took another sip of chocolate. "Besides, I didn't have to invite her - she's engaged to Dean, so she arrived with him."
"Thomas and Abbott. Now there's a pairing I would never have imagined myself - it might have given me nightmares." Ginny's heart gave an erratic thump as Draco's voice reached her ears, and she pushed the less-potent Ginny Weasley smirk onto her face before she brought her eyes to look in his direction.
Pansy's next question saved Ginny - she was in serious danger of being unable to pull her eyes away from the tall blond across from her. "What, the Siamese triplets didn't show?"
Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her mug. "My brother was kind enough to attend. Or, rather, my parents dragged him, kicking and screaming, up the walk. Nice way of him to behave, considering that he's been avoiding me since the screaming match we got into at Kings' Cross in June."
Everyone in the room knew that Ron and Ginny's relationship had been extremely strained since the explosive screaming match in the Great Hall at the beginning of her sixth year, still referred to in some circles as the War of the Weasleys. It had taken Ginny three weeks to calm down enough to apologize to her brother for her lack of self-control in that episode - not apologizing for speaking the truth that Ron hadn't wanted to hear. For a year and a half after that, small battles were fought on a weekly basis, and they had some spectacularly large ones - chief among them caused by Ginny's gesture of goodwill to Draco when they were initiated into the Order of the Phoenix.
The one that threatened to split the family in two, however, had been the Kings' Cross fiasco. The day had been sunny and warm, a good omen for the future of the newest fully-trained wizards and witches to come out of Hogwarts. The entire Weasley family, as well as Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Pansy, and Blaise waited at the station to greet Ginny, and to carry her off to the Burrow for a surprise party.
All had gone well until Charlie had asked his little sister, as he swept her up into a grand hug, what she intended to do with her life now that she was done with school.
Ron and Mrs. Weasley had attempted to disabuse Ginny of the notion that she would ever be allowed to take the Auror Studies course, and nearly exploded when Ginny retorted that it was too late for that, because she'd already accepted the offer from the Ministry. When, after Ron had insulted his sister several times, she fled the station, it had been Tonks and Pansy that had followed.
They'd calmed her down, filling her ears with reminders that she was of age and perfectly capable of making her own career choices. Once she'd washed her face and restored her hair to order, Ginny had returned to the Burrow, to discover that the division ran straight down the middle of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Bill, Charlie, and Harry thought that Ginny had no business attempting to become an Auror; Mr. Weasley, Percy, Fred, George, and Hermione thought that if the Ministry had full faith in Ginny's abilities - and after all, wasn't Ginny the Weasley family's only Hogwarts Head Girl? - that she deserved the chance to try.
Ginny had arrived in the middle of this glorious row. After screaming for silence, she thanked her family members for their concern, reminded them of her status as an adult witch, and remained firm on her decision to attempt Auror Studies. She swept up the stairs to her childhood bedroom; by the time her hand touched the doorknob, she was resolved to find her own flat at the earliest opportunity.
In the month between Ginny's homecoming and the day she moved into her townhouse, she had managed to regain the good graces of her mother. After several owls between Egypt, Romania, and the Burrow Ginny had brought Bill and Charlie around to the idea that their little sister was a much more capable witch than they'd originally given her credit for.
But on the day that Ginny took possession of her townhouse, empty yet alive with the possibilities of making it a reflection of her own spirit and vitality, thoughts of what Ron had said to her on the platform at Kings' Cross still brought hostile tears of anger and sorrow to her eyes. On the few instances she'd encountered her brother since, the anger just wouldn't be pushed aside .. meaning that for the first time in eighteen years, Ginny and Ron Weasley had gone nearly six months without speaking.
"He's an idiot," Pansy stated in no uncertain terms.
"It does raise a question, though, Ginny," Blaise said, looking honestly confused. "When we left school, you were determined to sit the Mastery exam for Potions and considering teaching. How did you end up in the Auror Studies program?"
Ginny poured herself another mug of chocolate before turning to answer his question. "I hadn't even thought of the possibility of becoming an Auror until I got the owl from the Ministry, informing me of my eligibility. I wasn't sold on the idea of teaching, though, and there was nothing stopping me from sitting the Mastery exam and becoming an Auror both."
When it was evident that she wasn't going to say any more, Pansy grinned. "Oh, come on, Weasley. Tell him what you told me."
"Very well. I did it because my parents have been treating me like glass since I started school, and that when they found out they'd throw a fit. I wanted to show them that I was made of stronger stuff than they'd imagined."
"You were expecting the uproar."
"Yes."
"You entered Auror Studies with the express goal of enraging your family." Blaise whistled in admiration. "It makes sense, though. What other motivation could you possibly have, with your bodyguard brothers?"
The smile on her face froze, and he knew he'd said something wrong.
"What is it, Ginny?" Pansy asked with concern.
Ginny shook her head. This wasn't the time, her mind screamed, and she scrambled for a plausible cover. "You assign my brothers entirely too much familial affection," she said, a lightness in her voice that didn't reach her heart. "I assure you, in the majority of cases the best that can be ascribed to them is enlightened self-interest."
Laughs greeted this remark, and she felt as though she'd earned a slight reprieve. The holiday of light and friendship and laughter was not the time to be discussing Dark secrets and despair, not when some idle, insignificant Tuesday would serve just as well.
A real smile blossomed across her face. "So. It's been ages since I've seen you, Pans. What have you been up to?"
Ginny looked up at the clock, to discover that sometime between Pansy discussing her work in procurement for the Diagon Alley Apothecary and Blaise going on excitedly about his position in the Department of Magical Transportation, the hours had slipped away. Christmas Eve turned into very early Christmas morning with only quiet conversation for fanfare.
She'd known it was late, because her mind was finding itself on tangential trains of thought more and more frequently. She was still amazed, however, at how easy it had been to sit around her small fireplace and talk for hours of subjects that seemed awfully grown-up.
She'd gotten lost in thought about how Pansy Parkinson, Princess of Slytherin House, had ended up seeing Neville Longbottom of all people. When she'd found out, after their class had left Hogwarts, that Pansy and Neville had turned a common affinity for Herbology into a clandestine meeting on their last Hogsmeade weekend and regular, if infrequent, dates in Wizarding London after finishing school, Ginny expected that at some point the differences between Neville's and Pansy's personalities would come into conflict, and bring about an end to their relationship.
The fact that Neville was introducing Pansy to Gran Longbottom the next day revealed the error of her thinking.
And then there was the conundrum that was Draco Malfoy sitting in her den.
In a plot that issued directly from the sneaky, Slytherin part of her brain, she'd conceived of this little Christmas Eve gathering .. inviting all of her family, friends, and colleagues in, just to see who was really interested. Of course, there was the small complication that he'd arrived with Pansy and Zabini; it was entirely possible that he'd originally planned to stay away, but was cajoled into coming. "She was my school friend and your Potions groupmate," Ginny could hear Pansy saying in her imagination, "certainly you can spend a couple of hours in polite conversation."
The plot was so carefully crafted, but with no definite conclusion. It began with the mystery that was Draco Malfoy, and ended the same exact way.
Ginny could have spent hours wondering what it all meant. The fact that he had, even considering any simpering her friend had done, accepted the invitation she'd extended when it would have been so easy for him to make a polite excuse. The meaning of the looks he'd given her that day at the Ministry, just a couple of weeks before. Her newly-discovered inability to wrench her eyes away from him of her own accord.
She was rescued from that ungracious lapse of hostess protocol by an exclamation from Zabini. "Merlin, it's almost one in the morning."
"Ginny," Pansy said, standing up in the manner of someone who was extremely comfortable and would rather stay where she was than move. "As much as I could easily stay another couple hours and play catch-up, I really shouldn't. Neville will be calling for me early, and I don't want to make the wrong impression on his Gran."
"It's okay, Pans," she replied quietly. "It's late. I'll get your cloaks." Ginny padded out to the hall closet, and by the time she'd taken Pansy's cloak off its hanger and turned around, the rest of their small party had followed.
"You'll have to owl me when you get back from Mrs. Longbottom's," she said to Pansy. Her guest took the lush, forest green velvet from her hands and she turned back to the closet to find Zabini's cloak. "I admit to being insanely curious to hear how you fare at dinner."
Pansy's tired chatter about meeting Neville's Gran kept Ginny's attention as she handed Blaise his cloak, and returned to the closet once more. "Perhaps in the next couple of weekends we can get together for lunch," Pansy suggested.
"I'd like that," Ginny replied quietly, at the exact moment that long, graceful fingers brushed her own as their master reached for his cloak. She knew that her brain was responding to Pansy. The erratic little thump her heart gave was a response of an entirely different kind.
She needed to know - know whether or not the touch was intentional, whether or not his presence indicated the possibility of ... well, she wasn't sure exactly what, whether or not the little glances that had passed between them at Auror Headquarters had meant anything at all. Part of her entertained briefly the thought of gracefully pulling him aside and asking him for a few moments of his time, until she realized that it was late, she was tired, and the chances of her making a right mess of things were greater than half.
She knew that sending an owl after she'd had time to sleep (and plenty of opportunity to revise her message to perfection) was the safer option. It conflicted directly with the part of her heart that reminded her that if she were really concerned with safe options, she would be engaged to someone sweet, utterly Gryff, and as exciting as mashed potatoes ... the Colin Creevey type, and not infatuated with Draco Malfoy. She'd spent enough time at the edges of the seventh-year Slytherin social circle to know that Draco rarely gave first chances, much less second ones.
Ginny was determined not to need a second chance. She would send the owl.
She saw her guests out, knowing no more than she had when the evening started, yet feeling more calm for having a plan. She'd gathered all of the mugs from the den and returned them to the kitchen, and extinguished all but one light in the hallway. She had her foot on the bottom stair, headed towards her bedroom and a well-earned rest when there was one more knock on her door.
Without thinking, she crossed the hall, whispered the words that brought down the wards, and swung it open. She wasn't entirely sure exactly who'd she'd expected to see standing there, but the plan that she'd so recently crafted and stowed in a comforting, warm place in her brain would never have allowed her to hope that it might be Draco on the other side of the door.
Shows how much it knew, anyway. "Forget something, Malfoy?" she said in a conversational tone as she made a welcoming gesture with her free arm.
"That's what Parkinson and Zabini think," he replied as he brushed past her, only to stop in the middle of the hallway. She'd barely had enough time to close the door behind him - decidedly not enough time to ask what he'd meant by his reply - before he'd lowered his head and pressed soft, warm lips against her own. Her eyes fluttered closed against the onslaught of emotion such a simple thing had loosed - unexpected warmth and tenderness and in the back of her mind a tiny voice repeating a chance, a chance, a chance..
"Forgotten something, I think not." He lifted her chin with one finger, raising her gaze to meet his own. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the day you and your little army of firsties walked through the damn doors at the Ministry two weeks ago."
She was drowning in pools of molten silver, intoxicated by his confession. Before he could say another word, or her logic and reasoning could warn her off, she had put her arms around his neck, and pulled him within reach of her own kiss.
Hers was demanding and passionate instead of questioning and gentle. She kissed him with all the fervor of the schoolgirl crush she'd nursed through weeks of working together, with all of the wistfulness of months where he wouldn't leave her memory. The passion of countless dreams filled with his image rose in her, and all the giddy hopefulness of innocent touches and accidental meetings, and the hopefulness and joy of an invitation extended to all when the only one that really mattered was the one she was kissing.
She could sense his surprise at her reaction, and for the briefest of moments felt a wave of self-doubt rise in her stomach. It vanished the moment she felt him relax into her kiss, and a curious little warmth begin to radiate in her chest as his arms came up to gather her closer.
It was like she'd been freed from a cage of her own making, like she'd been earth-bound all her life and had finally learned that she had wings. Her heart soared in exhilarating liberty, beating at the same jubilant pace as his. His lips parted hers and she let out an involuntary moan.
She'd not intended to let him take the upper hand, and yet it was utter perfection, the touch of his tongue tracing her upper lip, the pressure of his arm - Seeker's arms, the unbidden thought floated into her conscious, serving only to increase the awareness of her senses - encircling her shoulders, pulling her closer to him than she'd ever let herself imagine. She thrilled repeatedly at the touch of his fingers tracing gentle patterns across the fabric of her jumper. She raised one hand to tangle her fingers in the fine, white-blond hair at the nape of his neck, and slipped the other under the winter cloak he still wore to wrap her arm around his waist.
Ginny could have stood in her hallway for hours, entangled with the young man who had been unreachable until the moment he'd bridged the gap between his world and hers with a brush of lips. As it is, she couldn't be certain how long the kiss had lasted at the moment Draco pulled away slightly, his breaths uneven, to lay his cheek against her forehead.
"Gin," he breathed. Not Virginia, the name he'd called her since their initiation into the Order. Not even Ginny, the name she'd been called by her circle of family and close friends since the moment of her birth. She'd never liked being called Gin .. not until she'd heard it fall from the lips of this gorgeous young man who'd said it as though he had only one breath to spare, and by Merlin's blood, he was going to spend it on her.
She knew that she would think of kisses and touches, the intoxicating and heady feelings that had welled from some secret corner of her soul, every time she heard it for the rest of her life.
"Mmmm?" she murmured by way of reply. She was entirely too comfortable to do anything except for marvel quietly at the feeling of his touch.
"As much as I enjoyed that, I was expected at home some time ago."
Ginny nodded, and pulled her hands away from their warm resting spots to cross her arms over her chest, but at the last moment Draco captured her hands in both of his own. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, "Some day, you WILL tell me just where that came from."
"Maybe," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling with the barely-suppressed excitement that was flooding through her. She moved to the door and held it open for him, a tiny, secretive smile crossing her lips despite her best efforts to restrain it. "It all depends on whether I remember about it some day."
His lips quirked before they brushed against hers one last time. "Do try to remember." He stepped across the threshold to disappear into the blackness of early morning, but not before looking at her with an absolutely devastating expression and saying, "Thanks for the chocolate."
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