Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter.

A/N: This story was my contribution to the D/G Fic Exchange. I wrote it for Mynuet, who requested a romantic story containing the line, “Take my hand, they can’t hurt you now.”

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All I Want for Christmas

It was Christmas Eve and Ginny Malfoy was nearly finished with her Christmas shopping. She strolled through Hogsmeade, enjoying the festive atmosphere. She had fallen in love with the village as a student. She especially liked it covered in snow, holly, and fairy lights, and she made a point of shopping here every year. Ginny had already bought gifts for most of her ever-extending family. She only had one left to buy.

As she left Honeydukes, where she had purchased gifts for her nieces and nephews, Ginny contemplated the problem of what to get for her husband Draco. What do you give a man who has everything? She must have come up with hundreds of ideas already, but they all seemed inadequate. The Weasley family had always embraced the credo “It’s the thought that counts” (out of both love and necessity), but Ginny didn’t want to give Draco just anything. Not this year. This would be their first Christmas together, and she wanted to set the right tone for the future. So it had to be something special. Unfortunately, she was still drawing a blank.

Ginny shivered in the cold air. Perhaps a warm drink would spark her creativity. She gathered her purchases and started towards the Three Broomsticks.

As she walked down the familiar street, Ginny couldn’t help but laugh. Last Christmas, if someone had predicted that she would be shopping for Draco Malfoy of all people, she would have suggested a stop at St. Mungo’s for a thorough examination. But here she was. It still amazed her at times.

On the first really warm day of the previous spring, Ginny had been on duty as a Healer at St. Mungo’s. She had entered an examination room and stopped short. Before her had stood a man, but it was only his height and the broadness of his shoulders that had indicated his gender, for every bit of his skin had been covered with bright green grass, and instead of hair, a patch of daffodils had sprouted from the top of his head. “Oh my!” she had said, coughing a little to hide a snicker.

The man looked at Ginny and groaned. “Merlin,” he said. “I give thousands of Galleons to this hospital every year, and they give me a Weasley?”

Ginny’s temper flared. She looked young for her age, and was accustomed to having her competence questioned. But it stung to have her family insulted.

Ginny reined in her temper and forced herself to remain professional. “May I ask what happened, Mr….,” she said, glancing down at her clipboard. When she saw the name on the records, she was overcome with shock, and hadn’t been able to control her reactions. “Malfoy?!” She burst into gleeful laughter.

Draco Malfoy glared at Ginny from underneath the clover that had replaced his eyebrows. “Do you always laugh at your patients’ misfortune, Weasley?” he asked coldly.

“No,” Ginny said, trying to stifle her giggles. “Only yours.”

Draco continued to scowl, or at least she thought so; it was hard to read his expression in his current state. Eventually, Ginny got a grip on herself and began to remove the grass and flowers. It was a painstaking process, but she soon settled into a rhythm. “May I ask what happened?” she asked after a while.

“I was helping my mother in the garden, and one of my spells backfired.” His voice had lost most of its cold edge. Ginny was a little surprised by the change in his attitude. But then she remembered a bewildered Ron telling her that Draco had been attempting to clean up the Malfoy name since Lucius Malfoy’s death. And he had been willing to help his mother in the garden. Perhaps he wasn’t the same bully he had been at Hogwarts.

“Well, next time, I think you should try for pink flowers,” Ginny said, grinning. “This yellow makes you look a bit peaky.”

Draco looked at her uncertainly for a moment, as if judging her motives, and then he laughed. It was a deep and melodious laugh, and Ginny joined in. In that moment, she felt a change between the two of them, as if they couldn’t hate each other after that. They fell into an easy conversation as Ginny worked.

When he had left the hospital that day, Draco had thanked Ginny and kissed her hand. The next day, he had sent her a bouquet of pink tulips and invited her to dinner. From there, their relationship had progressed more quickly than Ginny could ever have imagined. Draco had proposed on Ginny’s birthday, and they had been married on Hallowe’en. It had been a whirlwind romance, to be sure, but Ginny had never been as certain of anything as she had been with Draco.

But now she was entirely uncertain of the perfect Christmas gift.

Ginny was distracted from her memories when a few packages tumbled off the pile she was carrying. Laughing at herself, she picked them up, and stopped to listen to a group of carolers. She was nearly to the pub when she was distracted by someone calling out. “Excuse me, ma’am!”

Ginny turned to see a small boy with a chubby face, pink from the cold, wearing a knobbly green hat and matching mittens. He smiled at her and held out a package. “You dropped this!”

“Oh!” Ginny said, reaching out. “Thank you!” Her hand closed over the package. Before she had a chance to see what she had dropped this time, she felt the pull of a Portkey.

Ginny found herself in a cold, dark place. Dropping her packages, she groped around for a while, but could find nothing to indicate where she was or who had brought her here. She seemed to be in a small stone cell with a solid wooden door. Her panic grew as she tried all of the unlocking spells she could remember on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She pulled her cloak more tightly around herself and settled in to wait.

Draco had warned her that she needed to be careful of kidnapping attempts. She was a Malfoy now, and the Malfoys had many enemies and even more money. Ginny had laughed at the idea, but had tried to be a little more aware of her surroundings. Now she regretted her lack of attention. She hadn’t sensed anything wrong today at all. But it had been a boy who handed her the Portkey. Had the child known what it was? Or had someone used him?

The door opened suddenly, interrupting Ginny’s thoughts. She raised her wand and opened her mouth to voice a curse, but before she could say anything, the wand flew from her hand. A slender figure stepped into the room, followed by a hulking one carrying a torch. The larger figure slipped into a corner, while the other moved towards Ginny, her wand in his hand. She edged towards the still unlocked door.

“I wouldn’t try it, if I were you, Miss Weasley,” said a cold, smooth voice.

“It’s not Weasley anymore, as you should very well know if you went to the trouble to kidnap me. Now it’s…” Ginny’s voice trailed off. Her eyes had adjusted to the light, and she recognized her captors.

“But I thought you were dead!”

“Well, that was the impression I had hoped to leave,” Lucius Malfoy said with amusement. “It is good to know that all the hard work that went into faking my death did not go to waste.”

Ginny shuddered. Lucius’s voice was so like Draco’s, yet much colder. Ginny had not been kidnapped for a ransom. Undoubtedly it had been to lure Draco here.

Ginny asked in a shaky voice, “What do you want with me?” She suspected she already knew the answer.

“You, my dear, are going to help my son prove his worthiness.” Ginny’s fear must have shown on her face. “Yes. He has failed me and the Dark Lord terribly in the past. Tonight I will learn whether or not he has learned from his mistakes, whether or not he deserves the Malfoy name.”

Lucius moved still closer to Ginny, raising an eyebrow.

“I sent Draco an owl, but it may be a while before he arrives. Until then, I think I might have some fun with you.” Lucius toyed with his wand. “Yes, I think that if he finds you a bit… battered, he might be more amenable to my suggestions.”

Lucius trained his wand on Ginny. “Crucio,” he murmured, sounding almost bored. He hadn’t put a lot of effort into the curse, but Ginny was overcome with pain unlike any she had experienced before. Her screams echoed off the walls as she collapsed to the floor.

After a few moments, the pain subsided, and Ginny was left panting. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. Had the years in Azkaban rendered Lucius insane?

There was a clattering outside the cell. Lucius smiled broadly. “Ah, I believe Draco has arrived.”

Draco burst through the door, hair and robes askew, looking around wildly. Ginny’s heart leapt. On one hand, she wished that he hadn’t walked into his father’s trap. But he had come for her.

Gregory Goyle, the larger man, stepped out of his corner and cracked his knuckles menacingly. Draco ignored him. When his eyes fell on Ginny, she saw him relax slightly, only to stiffen again at the sound of his father’s voice.

“Hello, Draco,” Lucius said with false joviality. “How nice of you to join us.”

Draco nodded at the two men, his face now carefully composed. “Hello, Father,” he said. “I see that it was too much to hope that you would really be dead.”

“Indeed. But you should have realized that my plans would not include death.”

“I suppose I should have. You always did think there was nothing worse than death.”

“But of course. My time serving the Dark Lord was not entirely wasted, Draco. I learned much by keeping my eyes and ears open. I have learned from his mistakes. He failed, but I will succeed.”

“Ah, so you have delusions of grandeur, do you?” Draco asked with amusement.

“Delusions? Think what you like, Draco, but I will control the wizarding world. The question is whether or not you will be at my side when I do.”

“Why would I follow you, Father? I did that once and nearly died for my efforts.”

“Because if you do not, your death is certain. I would like to have you among the ranks of my followers, but if you do not meet my standards, I will make sure you will not live to disappoint me again.”

“If Goyle meets your standards, they can’t be very high.”

“Do not dismiss unquestioning loyalty so quickly, son. Goyle here may not be as intelligent as you are, but he obeys me, and has never failed to carry out an assignment. You, on the other hand… have.”

“Of course I did. Do you think the Dark Lord really expected a sixteen-year old wizard to kill Albus Dumbledore? Apparently, you are more delusional than I thought.”

“That is not the only way you have failed, Draco.”

“Oh yes, how could I forget? I got lower marks than Granger. I never beat Potter to the Snitch. What other petty disappointments am I missing?”

Ginny was astounded by the viciousness of the two men. Were they really father and son? How could they be and hate each other so much? But they did seem to have forgotten that she was there.

“A Weasley, Draco?” Maybe they hadn’t forgotten.

“She’s not a Weasley anymore,” Draco spat.

Lucius stepped closer to Ginny and bent down to run a long, bony finger down the side of her face. She pulled back, but he just sneered at her.

“I can see the appeal, I suppose,” Lucius said. “But for you to actually marry her? Have you lost all dignity?”

“You speak of dignity after spending years kowtowing to a creature that even Potter could destroy?” Draco’s voice was filled with contempt. “It has taken me years since your supposed death to restore but a fraction of dignity to the Malfoy name after what you did to destroy it. Now step away from my wife.”

Lucius stepped away. But as he did so, he trained his wand on Ginny once again. This time, he used the Cruciatus Curse with all deliberation and force. The pain was so intense that Ginny knew she would not be able to endure it for long. Just as she lost consciousness, she saw Draco lunge for his father.

When she started to come to, all Ginny sensed was the smell of Draco’s cologne surrounding her. Slowly, she realized that the warmth she felt was coming not from her cloak, but from his arms, holding her close to him. She relaxed into his embrace.

But then she heard his voice, low and pleading, repeating, “Please be okay, please be okay.” She wondered vaguely who he was talking to. She opened her eyes. Draco’s face was bent over hers, furrowed in concern, his eyes closed tight.

“Draco?” Ginny asked, slightly disoriented.

Draco’s eyes flew open. “Oh, Ginny! Thank Merlin! I was so afraid. How do you feel?”

“I ache a little. Where are we?” she asked, confused. Suddenly, her memories flooded back, and she sat up in a panic. “Lucius!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t worry,” Draco said soothingly. He gestured towards a corner of the cell where the two kidnappers lay, securely bound and unconscious. “The Aurors are coming for them.” He extricated himself from Ginny and stood up.

Ginny stayed where she was. She stared at Lucius Malfoy and shuddered. Draco held out a hand to help her stand.

“It’s over, Ginny,” he said gently. “Take my hand, they can’t hurt you now.”

Draco pulled Ginny to her feet and pulled her close, kissing her on her forehead. She felt safe and warm in his arms, but she burst into tears as the events of the day caught up with her. As she cried into his chest, he smoothed her hair back and whispered, “Shh. Don’t cry. Don’t think about it. I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Not if I can help it.”

Ginny clutched Draco’s robes and looked up at him with teary eyes. “But it’s all my fault! You told me I should be careful of something like this. That I shouldn’t trust anyone! And I didn’t even stop to think about taking the Portkey from that boy. If I had, this would never have happened.”

“No, Ginny, it isn’t your fault. This is my father we’re talking about. He would have found a way to get to you somehow. If anything, it is my fault.”

Ginny looked up at Draco with wide eyes. “How could it be your fault?”

“I love you so much that anyone who wants to hurt me just needs to look at us to know my greatest weakness. All they need to do is threaten you and I will come running.”

“Oh, Draco,” Ginny said, her heart melting. Her tears were flowing freely again. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Draco smiled a little. “I couldn’t do anything else.” Then his expression darkened. “But you should know that this probably won’t be the last time someone uses you to try to get to me.”

“It doesn’t matter, Draco. I love you, and if this is the price of being your wife, it is one I am more than willing to pay.”

He kissed her then. Ginny could feel all of Draco’s love and his relief for her safety in the kiss, and she returned it in kind. They only pulled apart when the Aurors arrived.

Later that evening, Draco and Ginny sat close together in the Manor’s sitting room. They had spent what had seemed to Ginny like hours in the dungeon, while the Aurors had investigated the day’s events. Draco had stayed by Ginny’s side the whole time, shielding her from the view of Goyle and his father and insisting on answering all of the questions. When they had finally been allowed to return home, he had not let Ginny out of his sight. Ginny had made a token protest over his fussiness, but really hadn’t minded all that much. They had spent the evening watching the fire and the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.

Draco started to play with Ginny’s hair and she smiled, snuggling closer. The grandfather clock in the foyer struck twelve.

“Happy Christmas, Ginny,” Draco said, hugging her tightly.

“Happy Christmas to you too. Our first one.” Ginny said happily. But then realization struck and she jerked up out of his arms, horrified. “Oh, no!”

Draco tensed immediately. He drew his wand instinctively, looking for the threat. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I never got your Christmas gift! I was shopping for it when…”

“Ginny, you…” Draco began, but Ginny interrupted, trying to keep her tears at bay.

“I didn’t know what to get. It’s our first Christmas and I wanted it to be perfect! Now I don’t have anything for you and it’s ruined.” Ginny buried her face in her hands.

“Ginny,” Draco said, turning her face towards him. “Nothing is ruined. You don’t have to buy me a gift. This Christmas is already perfect. You’re safe, and you’re here, with me. What more could I want?”

Ginny saw the sincerity in Draco’s eyes. She felt overwhelmed by love. He had come for her today, and that was a greater gift than anything the Malfoy riches could ever buy. Why wouldn’t Draco feel the same way? Perhaps, she mused, it is the thought that counts, after all.

Draco raised an eyebrow and Ginny realized that she had been gaping at him like an idiot instead of answering his question. Something about his expression reminded her again of their first encounter at St. Mungo’s. She giggled a little and smiled mischievously at him.

“A lawn mower?”