Written for Keeperofthemoon0 in The DG Forum's Secret Santa 2017.

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He saw the boots first. Soft looking leather, dark laces dangling haphazardly down to the floor. One of them was tilted against the other, lying just enough that he could see a dark green lining between the plain, dark leather.

They looked comfortable over fashionable, well used and loved instead of a statement of wealth.

One foot slowly swung just above them, covered in a familiar looking thick green and silver striped sock. It wasn't anything special, not really. Just a normal thin ankle and foot, the sock falling down unevenly with the motion to reveal pale skin.

Still, he climbed off the floor where he had been searching for his dropped book and brushed himself off before he strolled around the corner of the shelf to see who the boots belonged to.

Ginny Weasley sat at the table just before him, one leg tucked underneath her as she chewed on the end of her quill and scrunched her nose at the book in front of her.

It wasn't an attractive look, even with the navy jumper hugging her every curb and the edge of her skirt slid up a little too far on her leg.

But still, it was somehow... captivating.

Not surprising, not where it came to how he felt about her, but still... strange, even now.

He watched as she took the wet, somewhat grotesque looking rachis out of her mouth and moved the quill end back down to the parchment in front of her. She didn't react as he drew closer, just kept writing in her even, enthralling scrawl.

He almost reached the point where he thought, maybe, perhaps, he would say something to her, when she suddenly slid out of the chair and stood in front of him, one striped sock much higher on her leg than the other.

"Here," she said, matter of fact, shoving her parchment into her hand before she turned her back to him. He didn't know what it meant, but then she was packing her stuff up and slipping her feet into those lovely little boots.

"Weasley," he started, and the girl froze up with her bag halfway up her arm.

"Malfoy," Weasley said, spinning to face him again and she slid her bag the rest of the way up, "I'm due in Charms in twenty minutes. You can find me after lunch, if you can stop insulting my brother before your Potions class this afternoon."

"What is that-"

"Goodbye, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, somehow unable to make himself say anything else. Madam Pince cleared her voice from where she stood, watching over her domain.

He looked down at the parchment she had shoved at him, his exasperation with himself lifting when he saw what she had written.

Dragon,

I want more new socks for Christmas.

Love, Gin.