Disclaimer: Harry Pooter isn't mine. Oops! I mean, Harry Potter isn't mine. As for Harry Pooter… who knows? ;)
A/N: Just a bit of Harry and Ginny Christmas-y goodness dedicated to my bestie. And yes, it's exactly 500 words. Yay me!
Reviews are the best present a writer could possibly receive. I love to hear from you! And have yourself a merry Christmas!
Christmas Eve, the day when families gather, bellies stuffed and mugs of steaming cocoa in hand, to chat around the warmth of a roaring fire.
And there she was in the middle of the street, mindless as the snow fell around her, barely noticing the cold that seeped through her body, completely and utterly alone.
They had fought again.
She hated fighting with him.
But it's not like she could stand by, letting him hover over her and never let her stand by herself. She hated being the fragile one, the girl, the baby. More than anyone, her boyfriend should know that.
A heavy sigh built within her, releasing in a puff of air.
"What's the matter, she-weasel? Potter dump you?"
Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, she fought the desire to punch the speaker of that cold drawl right in the face.
"Already finished the family gathering at Azkaban, Malfoy?" she spat back, still staring at her feet.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he ground out darkly. She spun around swiftly, piercing his eyes with a glare.
"Neither do you."
Something within those swirls of grey changed, and she had the strangest sense that he was studying her. Uncomfortable, she started walking away, forcing herself not to wince as tingles shot through her stiff limbs.
To her surprise, she heard footsteps beside her.
"Shouldn't you be cramped with the rest of the weasels in that hovel you call home?"
"Shouldn't you be off at some charity event pretending to salvage your family name?"
"Already did." He gestured to the formal dress robes slightly visible under his heavy cloak.
"Should've known," she mumbled.
"Gave away all my old clothes, those from last year, you know." He shot her an arrogant smirk that she desperately wanted to hex off of his pale, pointed face. "Maybe you should take your brothers to see if any fit. Merlin knows they could use them."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Ginny spat. "You know, the next time you give your clothes away, why don't you just stay in them?"
"And, uh, donate myself to some poor, needy girl like you?" he replied, sending her a suggestive look. When his eyes glanced over her body, she was surprised to feel more flattered than disgusted. "Not this year."
"Shut up, Malfoy," she repeated with more force. "As if—"
"But maybe next year, Weasley," he remarked casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "If that idiotic Potter actually ends up letting you go."
Utterly shocked, she merely stared as he walked away.
After he disappeared, she shook her head in amazement. Suddenly she imagined how Harry would react to hearing about Malfoy hitting on her, knowing the protective and jealous side of him would want to pummel the ex-Slytherin. She'd swat him, reminding him he was the only guy for her.
"Ginny?"
A smile spread across her face.
"Ginny, I'm so sor—"
She cut him off with a kiss. They'd talked enough that night.