Christmas break approached quickly. More quickly than Ginny or Draco had expected. Ginny was in a good mood as they headed home. To their future home. They would soon be going to his parents, but both families had wanted to see their reaction to their new home. Or at least the matriarchs did.
The house was airy and open. Cozy with a fireplace in their bedroom and hardwood floors. The closet was gigantic—which Ginny was thrilled about—and there were three extra bedrooms for when they had guests—or kids, the thought struck Draco—over to visit.
His mother seemed to take a liking to Ginny. She played with Ginny’s hair, listened to her talk about Quidditch, and overall just stayed absorbed in what his future wife was saying. It was nice. And Mrs. Weasley fretted about him—” I’ve always said Hogwarts never feeds you kids enough, you’re so thin, dear”—while Ginny was lavished with attention. After a few hours, they left, leaving Draco and Ginny very much alone.
“Well,” Draco said as he took in Ginny’s reaction to their house. “I say we have a shot of firewhisky and get started on making a mess.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, but she followed him to the kitchen all the same, her eyes darting over everything. Draco had to admit that the house was perfect. It was open yet somehow cozy. It felt like their own little space, and Dracco guessed that it indeed was. There would be no visitors unless they wanted them. There would be no Slytherins threatening them. It was nice.
Draco opened the bottle, and Ginny got two glasses.
“To us and our new life,” Draco toasted, and they drank.
“Just think; pretty soon it’ll be Christmas,” Ginny said, “And I still haven’t gotten you a gift. I need to go to Diagon Alley.”
And Draco had to admit that he did indeed need to get Ginny her gift as well. He had an idea, and he was going to go with it.
“Well, how about tomorrow? We just got home. You can Apparate, right?”
Ginny snorted. “Of course I can. I’m seventeen. What kind of witch would I be if I couldn’t?” she admonished.
“Well, I’ll give you the vault key so you can do your shopping. I have stuff I need to get as well. And- ahhh!” Draco screamed.
In the middle of the kitchen now stood a house-elf, blinking up at them. Ginny laughed so hard she needed the counter to support her, and Draco would have been put off if it weren’t so damn cute.
“What’s your name?” Ginny asked the house elf.
“I is being Winky. I am your house-elf!” the elf boldly declared.
“Well, Winky, do you think you could make us some french onion soup with bread to go with it? I’m starving!” Ginny asked. And just like that, the house-elf was cooking.
~~~
Diagon Alley was packed with other people doing their last-minute Christmas shopping. Draco had given Ginevra the vault key so she could withdraw money for her gifts. He wondered whether it was wise to let the smartass go shopping on her own. She’d get him a diary that laughed at every entry he made or something equally embarrassing. But still, she went on her way, and he went on his.
“Mr. Malfoy!” the shopkeeper at the Quality Quidditch Supply store said, “How can I help you? Here to buy the Slytherin team new brooms?” he asked hopefully.
“Not today, Ernest. I am here to buy my girlfriend a broom. She is going to be joining the Holyhead Harpies, and she needs the best broom on the market. It needs to be fast, touch-sensitive, and lean. Anything like that in stock?” Draco asked.
“Well, you are in luck! The new Firebolt 200 just came out yesterday! Top of the line. We’ve already had Puddlemore United order some for their entire team. It’s the best. Very touch-sensitive. Very light. It goes naught to 200 in five seconds. It’s the best money can buy. Would you like to look at the display one?” he asked.
Draco nodded, and Ernest, ignoring everyone else, took Draco to the back where the best brooms were kept. Draco turned his back as Ernest went ahead and did some magic to lift the enchantment so they could get a look at the broom.
It was gorgeous. Fire red—which reminded him of Ginny—and long. It weighed very little, and it was aesthetically pleasing to look at. Draco stood there holding it, imagining Ginny seeing it on Christmas Eve at his parents’, and he decided he needed it for her. She deserved something that wasn’t secondhand. Not that he could say anything bad about Potter’s Firebolt. But he wanted her riding something he had gotten her, not something her ex had given her.
“I’ll take it. I need it gift-wrapped and delivered to Malfoy manor in time for Christmas Eve. And, of course, you have the vault information, correct?” Draco asked.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I’ll make sure it looks perfect. Who's the lucky girl, may I ask?”
And Draco knew he was just being nosey. Not everyone knew about him and Ginny yet. But he answered anyway.
“Ginevra Weasley.”
The shopkeeper's mouth dropped open, and he quickly shut it.
“Well, the Weasleys have become one of the most notable families since the war. You’ve done well. Any specific color for the wrapping?” Ernest asked.
~~~
The days passed quickly. Instead of being bored, Draco and Ginny found that they could easily entertain one another. Although they’d yet to leave the house to meet their neighbors, they were having fun. Ginny had Winky help her decorate, and the whole place looked like Father Christmas had gone overboard and thrown up the holiday all over. But it made Ginny happy, so he wasn’t one to complain. Draco was happiest when Ginny was happy, and lately, that seemed like every day. She had strategically placed mistletoe all over the house, too, so that he couldn’t get through a room without having to kiss his future wife. He only pretended to be put out by it, and he was sure she knew he was faking.
Christmas Eve came, and Ginny was bundling up, wrapping Draco’s Weasley scarf around his neck and holding the gift-wrapped portrait. Draco would Apparate them there, and they would have dinner with his family. Or a late lunch, early dinner really. If Ginny was nervous, she didn’t show it. She walked into Malfoy Manor with her head held high as though she belonged there, and to be fair, she did. She had more steel in her than Narcissa Malfoy herself.
“Son! Ginevra!” his mother gasped, running forward to hug her son, and then to hug Ginny, who had to set the gift down.
Narcissa looked at the package, a puzzled expression on her face.
“I made you a gift,” was Ginny’s response.
“How… nice,” Narcissa said, giving a smile as though she were praising a toddler. Draco wanted to groan. This wasn’t just some gift. It was the Malfoy family, sans Ginny, sitting together. It was a perfect picture representation of them, and it was breathtaking. His mother was in for a shock, Draco knew that much.
And indeed, when Draco watched his mum open the gift, he saw her mouth almost drop to the floor.
“Ginevra, this is… gorgeous,” Narcissa Malfoy breathed.
“I’m glad you like it. I thought you might want to remember the way it was when it was just the three of you. I know this whole situation has been crazy, but it’s been an eye-opening experience for me, and I am sure, Draco as well,” Ginny tried to explain.
Draco hadn’t expected to see his mother cry, even if it was just one silent tear. When next she embraced Ginny, it was a hug with emotion. And the rest of the day was spent making toasts, hanging mistletoe, and getting to know each other. It was nice, Draco had to admit. It felt like Ginny fit in, and when his mother and father went to get their gifts for the two kids, Ginny laid her head on Draco’s shoulder.
“I hope it’ll be as easy at my house tomorrow,” Ginny said softly.
“You and me both. I don’t want to come away with something missing,” he mused.
“They wouldn’t dare. I can out magick any of them. I could probably win a duel against Harry, though he’d never let me try because he doesn’t want to be outdone. Bloody prat,” Ginny grumbled.
Draco chuckled. “Is that so, wifey?” he asked.
“Yes, it is bloody well so. He may have nerve, and an uncanny amount of luck, but Harry James Potter cannot hope to outmatch me in a proper duel. I’ll show you tomorrow,” Ginny promised.
“What was in the egg nog?” Draco mused.
“Rum,” Narcissa answered as she walked back in with his father in tow. “Why?”
“Because I am going to outduel Potter tomorrow. Because I can, and I know I can,” Ginny boldly stated.
“Oh, dear. Well, we have hangover potion around here somewhere. I didn’t think it was that strong. How many cups has Ginny had?” Narcissa asked.
“I lost track at six,” Ginny answered.
“Well, dear, stay seated. We have your present anyway. Here you are,” Narcissa said as she handed a small box to Ginny.
Ginny opened it carefully, and inside were two Slytherin green hair combs. Draco thought they’d look lovely in Ginny’s hair if they could tame it enough.
“These were my mother’s combs. They are ancient, passed down through the line of women in the family. But I can assure you that they are luckier than liquid luck. I wore them twice, and I had the two greatest days of my life both times. I hope they give you just as much luck as they have done the women before me,” Narcissa said softly.
Ginny smiled and then looked up at Narcissa with a frown. “But then what would stop me from wearing them every day?” she asked.
“Well, it’s funny, but every woman who has had these has forgotten about them until the exact moment that she needed some luck in her life. And then, when it’s our turn for our daughter or son to marry, we remember to pass them down. They belonged to a veela, if the ancestry is to be believed, so I am sure that has something to do with it. I’d put them in your hair now, but you are a bit drunk…” Narcissa trailed off.
“I am. But I will wear them on my wedding day. I think my mum has an emerald pendant that would look great with these, and what better day then the day I vow always to love this idiot,” Ginny almost slurred.
“Like you don’t already?” Draco deadpanned.
“Oi. I didn’t ask for your input. You let me drink six glasses of eggnog and didn’t warn me there could be alcohol. I’ve never been drunk before… like ever… in my life. This is strange. I don’t like it,” Ginny moaned.
“Hold still; we have a potion for it. Lucius, dear, please find it. If we let her go home and she gets splinched, the whole Weasley family will say we tried to murder her.”
“It’s true, they will, even though they wouldn’t believe it. Weasleys are annoying at times. Like I have six older brothers, and not one of them knows what the letter on the tampon case means. Ron actually asked me if it meant it was for the right one. I said, ‘Ronald, if I have a right one, I have to have a left one, too. Now, does that sound right to you?’ and he sat there, thinking for ten whole minutes. Granted, he was eleven, but still.”
Narcissa buried her face in her hands and laughed, which caused Ginny to laugh, and Draco sat there a moment, trying to comprehend that a) Ron Weasley didn’t understand female anatomy and b) Ginny had outed him for that to his family. It was a rather hilarious moment.
“Are you sure we can’t keep her like this? It’d give us so much leverage,” his mother finally managed to say.
“That’s a very Slty… Slyty… Slytherin thing to say,” Ginny finally managed.
When Lucius walked in with the potion, Draco’s mother regretfully gave it to Ginny, who downed it. She sat there a moment, eyes closed, then she shook her head and opened her eyes.
“I swear on our unborn child, if you tell Ron I told you that you’ll find your nads cut off,” she immediately rounded onto Draco.
This sent Narcissa Malfoy into peals of laughter and left Draco wondering just what he’d done to deserve this lack of faith from his fiancee.
“And if you say you are offended, I will punch you in your nose,” she said before he could even open his mouth.
“I guess I’m not talking then,” he grumbled.
“Damn right, you aren’t,” she responded.
The house was airy and open. Cozy with a fireplace in their bedroom and hardwood floors. The closet was gigantic—which Ginny was thrilled about—and there were three extra bedrooms for when they had guests—or kids, the thought struck Draco—over to visit.
His mother seemed to take a liking to Ginny. She played with Ginny’s hair, listened to her talk about Quidditch, and overall just stayed absorbed in what his future wife was saying. It was nice. And Mrs. Weasley fretted about him—” I’ve always said Hogwarts never feeds you kids enough, you’re so thin, dear”—while Ginny was lavished with attention. After a few hours, they left, leaving Draco and Ginny very much alone.
“Well,” Draco said as he took in Ginny’s reaction to their house. “I say we have a shot of firewhisky and get started on making a mess.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, but she followed him to the kitchen all the same, her eyes darting over everything. Draco had to admit that the house was perfect. It was open yet somehow cozy. It felt like their own little space, and Dracco guessed that it indeed was. There would be no visitors unless they wanted them. There would be no Slytherins threatening them. It was nice.
Draco opened the bottle, and Ginny got two glasses.
“To us and our new life,” Draco toasted, and they drank.
“Just think; pretty soon it’ll be Christmas,” Ginny said, “And I still haven’t gotten you a gift. I need to go to Diagon Alley.”
And Draco had to admit that he did indeed need to get Ginny her gift as well. He had an idea, and he was going to go with it.
“Well, how about tomorrow? We just got home. You can Apparate, right?”
Ginny snorted. “Of course I can. I’m seventeen. What kind of witch would I be if I couldn’t?” she admonished.
“Well, I’ll give you the vault key so you can do your shopping. I have stuff I need to get as well. And- ahhh!” Draco screamed.
In the middle of the kitchen now stood a house-elf, blinking up at them. Ginny laughed so hard she needed the counter to support her, and Draco would have been put off if it weren’t so damn cute.
“What’s your name?” Ginny asked the house elf.
“I is being Winky. I am your house-elf!” the elf boldly declared.
“Well, Winky, do you think you could make us some french onion soup with bread to go with it? I’m starving!” Ginny asked. And just like that, the house-elf was cooking.
~~~
Diagon Alley was packed with other people doing their last-minute Christmas shopping. Draco had given Ginevra the vault key so she could withdraw money for her gifts. He wondered whether it was wise to let the smartass go shopping on her own. She’d get him a diary that laughed at every entry he made or something equally embarrassing. But still, she went on her way, and he went on his.
“Mr. Malfoy!” the shopkeeper at the Quality Quidditch Supply store said, “How can I help you? Here to buy the Slytherin team new brooms?” he asked hopefully.
“Not today, Ernest. I am here to buy my girlfriend a broom. She is going to be joining the Holyhead Harpies, and she needs the best broom on the market. It needs to be fast, touch-sensitive, and lean. Anything like that in stock?” Draco asked.
“Well, you are in luck! The new Firebolt 200 just came out yesterday! Top of the line. We’ve already had Puddlemore United order some for their entire team. It’s the best. Very touch-sensitive. Very light. It goes naught to 200 in five seconds. It’s the best money can buy. Would you like to look at the display one?” he asked.
Draco nodded, and Ernest, ignoring everyone else, took Draco to the back where the best brooms were kept. Draco turned his back as Ernest went ahead and did some magic to lift the enchantment so they could get a look at the broom.
It was gorgeous. Fire red—which reminded him of Ginny—and long. It weighed very little, and it was aesthetically pleasing to look at. Draco stood there holding it, imagining Ginny seeing it on Christmas Eve at his parents’, and he decided he needed it for her. She deserved something that wasn’t secondhand. Not that he could say anything bad about Potter’s Firebolt. But he wanted her riding something he had gotten her, not something her ex had given her.
“I’ll take it. I need it gift-wrapped and delivered to Malfoy manor in time for Christmas Eve. And, of course, you have the vault information, correct?” Draco asked.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I’ll make sure it looks perfect. Who's the lucky girl, may I ask?”
And Draco knew he was just being nosey. Not everyone knew about him and Ginny yet. But he answered anyway.
“Ginevra Weasley.”
The shopkeeper's mouth dropped open, and he quickly shut it.
“Well, the Weasleys have become one of the most notable families since the war. You’ve done well. Any specific color for the wrapping?” Ernest asked.
~~~
The days passed quickly. Instead of being bored, Draco and Ginny found that they could easily entertain one another. Although they’d yet to leave the house to meet their neighbors, they were having fun. Ginny had Winky help her decorate, and the whole place looked like Father Christmas had gone overboard and thrown up the holiday all over. But it made Ginny happy, so he wasn’t one to complain. Draco was happiest when Ginny was happy, and lately, that seemed like every day. She had strategically placed mistletoe all over the house, too, so that he couldn’t get through a room without having to kiss his future wife. He only pretended to be put out by it, and he was sure she knew he was faking.
Christmas Eve came, and Ginny was bundling up, wrapping Draco’s Weasley scarf around his neck and holding the gift-wrapped portrait. Draco would Apparate them there, and they would have dinner with his family. Or a late lunch, early dinner really. If Ginny was nervous, she didn’t show it. She walked into Malfoy Manor with her head held high as though she belonged there, and to be fair, she did. She had more steel in her than Narcissa Malfoy herself.
“Son! Ginevra!” his mother gasped, running forward to hug her son, and then to hug Ginny, who had to set the gift down.
Narcissa looked at the package, a puzzled expression on her face.
“I made you a gift,” was Ginny’s response.
“How… nice,” Narcissa said, giving a smile as though she were praising a toddler. Draco wanted to groan. This wasn’t just some gift. It was the Malfoy family, sans Ginny, sitting together. It was a perfect picture representation of them, and it was breathtaking. His mother was in for a shock, Draco knew that much.
And indeed, when Draco watched his mum open the gift, he saw her mouth almost drop to the floor.
“Ginevra, this is… gorgeous,” Narcissa Malfoy breathed.
“I’m glad you like it. I thought you might want to remember the way it was when it was just the three of you. I know this whole situation has been crazy, but it’s been an eye-opening experience for me, and I am sure, Draco as well,” Ginny tried to explain.
Draco hadn’t expected to see his mother cry, even if it was just one silent tear. When next she embraced Ginny, it was a hug with emotion. And the rest of the day was spent making toasts, hanging mistletoe, and getting to know each other. It was nice, Draco had to admit. It felt like Ginny fit in, and when his mother and father went to get their gifts for the two kids, Ginny laid her head on Draco’s shoulder.
“I hope it’ll be as easy at my house tomorrow,” Ginny said softly.
“You and me both. I don’t want to come away with something missing,” he mused.
“They wouldn’t dare. I can out magick any of them. I could probably win a duel against Harry, though he’d never let me try because he doesn’t want to be outdone. Bloody prat,” Ginny grumbled.
Draco chuckled. “Is that so, wifey?” he asked.
“Yes, it is bloody well so. He may have nerve, and an uncanny amount of luck, but Harry James Potter cannot hope to outmatch me in a proper duel. I’ll show you tomorrow,” Ginny promised.
“What was in the egg nog?” Draco mused.
“Rum,” Narcissa answered as she walked back in with his father in tow. “Why?”
“Because I am going to outduel Potter tomorrow. Because I can, and I know I can,” Ginny boldly stated.
“Oh, dear. Well, we have hangover potion around here somewhere. I didn’t think it was that strong. How many cups has Ginny had?” Narcissa asked.
“I lost track at six,” Ginny answered.
“Well, dear, stay seated. We have your present anyway. Here you are,” Narcissa said as she handed a small box to Ginny.
Ginny opened it carefully, and inside were two Slytherin green hair combs. Draco thought they’d look lovely in Ginny’s hair if they could tame it enough.
“These were my mother’s combs. They are ancient, passed down through the line of women in the family. But I can assure you that they are luckier than liquid luck. I wore them twice, and I had the two greatest days of my life both times. I hope they give you just as much luck as they have done the women before me,” Narcissa said softly.
Ginny smiled and then looked up at Narcissa with a frown. “But then what would stop me from wearing them every day?” she asked.
“Well, it’s funny, but every woman who has had these has forgotten about them until the exact moment that she needed some luck in her life. And then, when it’s our turn for our daughter or son to marry, we remember to pass them down. They belonged to a veela, if the ancestry is to be believed, so I am sure that has something to do with it. I’d put them in your hair now, but you are a bit drunk…” Narcissa trailed off.
“I am. But I will wear them on my wedding day. I think my mum has an emerald pendant that would look great with these, and what better day then the day I vow always to love this idiot,” Ginny almost slurred.
“Like you don’t already?” Draco deadpanned.
“Oi. I didn’t ask for your input. You let me drink six glasses of eggnog and didn’t warn me there could be alcohol. I’ve never been drunk before… like ever… in my life. This is strange. I don’t like it,” Ginny moaned.
“Hold still; we have a potion for it. Lucius, dear, please find it. If we let her go home and she gets splinched, the whole Weasley family will say we tried to murder her.”
“It’s true, they will, even though they wouldn’t believe it. Weasleys are annoying at times. Like I have six older brothers, and not one of them knows what the letter on the tampon case means. Ron actually asked me if it meant it was for the right one. I said, ‘Ronald, if I have a right one, I have to have a left one, too. Now, does that sound right to you?’ and he sat there, thinking for ten whole minutes. Granted, he was eleven, but still.”
Narcissa buried her face in her hands and laughed, which caused Ginny to laugh, and Draco sat there a moment, trying to comprehend that a) Ron Weasley didn’t understand female anatomy and b) Ginny had outed him for that to his family. It was a rather hilarious moment.
“Are you sure we can’t keep her like this? It’d give us so much leverage,” his mother finally managed to say.
“That’s a very Slty… Slyty… Slytherin thing to say,” Ginny finally managed.
When Lucius walked in with the potion, Draco’s mother regretfully gave it to Ginny, who downed it. She sat there a moment, eyes closed, then she shook her head and opened her eyes.
“I swear on our unborn child, if you tell Ron I told you that you’ll find your nads cut off,” she immediately rounded onto Draco.
This sent Narcissa Malfoy into peals of laughter and left Draco wondering just what he’d done to deserve this lack of faith from his fiancee.
“And if you say you are offended, I will punch you in your nose,” she said before he could even open his mouth.
“I guess I’m not talking then,” he grumbled.
“Damn right, you aren’t,” she responded.
Author notes: I know it has taken much too long for me to update! I am truly sorry about that. Things have been wild for me. However, I will TRY to be more faithful with my updates. Also, I have a plot for this fic. It is NOT just fluff! If you enjoy it, please leave a comment so I know you read it! It always gives me the motivation to instantly start on the next chapter.
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