A/N: Here's the D/G Christmas fic I promised!

Frost covered the grounds of Hogwarts, the distant mountains hardly any different from the snow covered hills near the lake, all covered by show. It was as if a giant waking up from a long nap had cast off his blanket with one large stretch and the blanket had floated down to lay upon the grass of Hogwarts, but even Grawp the giant had left Hogwarts for the holidays, Hagrid had taken him up to Hogsmeade with the aide of one of Professor Flitwick's shrinking spells.

The snow was untouched by footprints due to an early morning flurry, and to Ginny Weasley it looked almost mystical, made more so by a fairy flitting around the lake. Ginny sighed to herself as she turned away from the small window in her dormitory and sat back on her bed. The dormitory was empty aside from her; everyone else had gone home for the holidays.

Her mother had wanted her to come home, and Ginny felt somewhat guilty when she thought of her mother, but she just could not bring herself to go home this Christmas, too much was happening and too much would be different.

A draft of cold air blew through the room and Ginny shivered, this was enough to convince her to get up from her bed and wander down the stairs. She had never seen the common room quite this deserted, even Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone home, Ron had shot her a very dirty look when they had left the common room and she had remained in an armchair by the flickering flames of the fire, but she had ignored him. He just did not understand, could not understand.

Only one other Gryffindor was staying, a fourth year named Douglas Henry, but he had a brother in Hufflepuff and was spending the holiday there, Ginny liked having the common room to herself but today she did not feel like staying there. So, she wandered out of the portrait hole; even the Fat Lady was not there, no doubt off somewhere visiting her friend Violet.

Her footsteps echoed in the halls, never had Hogwarts seemed so creepy, even with the garlands on the stair rails and the huge Christmas tree in the entrance hall. She knew that Dumbledore had wanted the castle to seem just as festive as it always did, but Ginny knew that all the decorations in the world could bring back the air of a Hogwarts Christmas.

Not everyone had gone home; many parents had preferred that their precious angels stay in the castle, but just as many had wanted badly to see their children during this time of worry, heaven knew that her parents had.

Most of those that had stayed though were sitting cosy in their common rooms, not dreaming of venturing out into the cold and lonely hallways unless it was to eat, but Ginny's desires were somewhat more complicated and food was not one of them at all.

As she climbed a staircase she realized with a start that she did not really know where she was, glancing around quickly she saw a familiar door, the door to the Room of Requirement, she laughed to herself at the thought that she had grown so used to this route that she went there whether she wanted to or not. They still had DA meetings, and so she walked there at least once a week for that, but also in the past few months she had taken to walking there by herself when she wanted to be alone. Now she did not particularly care as she paced the floor in front of the door, and watched the door handle appear.

Draco Malfoy scowled to himself as he stared at the flames that he had turned black with a wave of his wand, he did not appreciate the warmth of the orange that they had originally been, rather, he wanted them to be as black as he felt. His chair was several feet from him a bunch of first years were giggling nervously to themselves, and though he wanted to snap angrily at them he could not help feeling the slightest bit of pity for them. They were happy over this abysmal Christmas poor creatures, they were only eleven after all and with all of the mayhem that had surrounded their first year this must have been a bright light on the horizon.

Still their chatter annoyed him and he stood from the armchair, Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other from their high-backed chairs next to him, large pieces of chocolate halfway to their mouths, "Don't bother moving your fat arses," he told them with a frown, "As if I want the likes of you around anyway." They nodded stupidly, too dull to even notice the insult none-to-subtly hidden in his words. Draco shook his head and stormed off.

His father would have told him that he was being stupid; that one should never venture off on one's own without anyone to back up an alibi, but Draco did not particularly care what his father would have thought at the moment. His father had gotten caught in service to the Dark Lord, his father was an imbecile. He would never be fool enough to be sent to Azkaban, of all places, like a common criminal.

His mother had been most distressed at his father's incarceration, as soon as Draco returned home for the summer she had called him into her sitting room to tell him in no uncertain terms that if his father did not manage to get his sorry self out of prison then he would not be worth her time. What hardly anyone knew was that it was his mother's money that they lived off of, inherited from her Black ancestors, the Malfoys had always been a respected family, but Draco's grandfather had had a bit of a gambling problem (although no one knew that either), and had not left Lucius with much money.

What his mother did not know, Draco thought as he came up from the dungeons, was that Draco already knew his father was not worth their time. He got caught by Albus Dumbledore for Pete's sake, that Muggle-loving fool, and Potter. Potter and his confounded scar, gallivanting about the castle whispering with those minions of his, as if he knew great and mysterious things that mere mortals like the other students could not understand. His father's capture did not change Draco's attitude about Potter, but it sure as hell changed his attitude about his father. Damn his father, the very thought of him infuriated Draco.

Whipping out his wand as he rounded a corner he muttered a curse and a suit of armour tumbled to the ground. Smiling, Draco tucked his wand back into his robes and continued down the hall, towards that room that he had found Potter in the previous year, it was a nice little place to hide from prying eyes, something that he would not mind doing that day. What he had not counted on was someone else being there

Ginny was usually amazed by the room that appeared when she entered the Room of Requirement on her own; there was a deep red carpet on the floor with bookshelves lining one wall. A window with a window seat appeared out of nowhere looking out on the lake, now covered over with ice, a fireplace popped up on the opposite wall and occasionally there would be a cat wandering the room as well; sometimes she recognized it as belonging to someone, sometimes not.

Today she was already curled up on the window seat staring out the window watching the swirling snow that had begun to fall when she heard a soft mewing coming from in front of the fire. A very confused looking orange and white striped kitten wandered over.

"Aw," Ginny murmured as she picked it up, "I'm sorry little one, I'll bet you were curled up in front of some fire somewhere weren't you?" the kitten only yawned as she pulled it into her lap. She stroked its soft fur and sighed, "Do you have an owner? I suppose you don't, surely an owner would not let your fur get all tangled like this?" The cat did not answer and she wished that she could talk to cats as Harry could talk to snakes. Now that would be useful, fat lot of good talking to snakes was-.

Suddenly a noise broke her out of her reverie, she jumped and the cat jumped with her as the door opened. Around her the room began to change as well, the bookshelf jumped to the other side, half the carpet turned green, and standing in the doorway staring at her was Draco Malfoy. His jaw dropped when he saw her perched on the window sill, and his grey eyes widened. Once Ginny got over the shock of it she almost laughed at the sight of the usually calm collected Slytherin looking so stunned.

"What the ruddy hell are you doing in here?" he asked, sounding remarkably like Ron when she went into his bedroom.

"Sitting," she said, smirking slightly. He blinked, surprised, she supposed, that she had not said, 'Oh sorry, Prince Draco I will get out of your way immediately.' Slightly to her annoyance he continued into the room.

"Nice answer Weasel, now get out," he replied coming to himself.

Ginny drew herself up and stared into his face, "I was here first," she said coolly, "And I am not leaving just because a humongous braggart like you demands it."

"Well I am not leaving because you are a stubborn little brat," he responded snidely.

"We have a problem then don't we?" Ginny asked calmly, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. She could not believe that she was having this conversation with Draco Malfoy, had it been Harry or Ron they would have just launched themselves on him and attacked, but Ginny could not do that.

There was something about him, sure he was a snide prat, but there was something in his eyes, she had seen it the first time she met him at Flourish and Blotts, the way he eyed his father when their fathers were fighting. She had no idea what it was, she wanted to hate him, acted like she did around everyone else, but something just would not let her.

Draco did not understand this little Weasley at all, she was supposed to be a snivelling little thing, that is how she had always been before, that was why his father had chosen her for that trick of his in Draco's second year. Well that and the fact that she was a Weasley. But here she was, sitting there unmoving, headstrong and stubborn. He supposed that she was a Gryffindor after all. What a disappointment.

"Why don't you just get out of here?" he asked her, trying to hide his desperation. He did not want to go back to the common room, and this room was the only other place he could think of.

"Forget it Malfoy. Look, the room seems to have already decided for us, just stay on your half." She gestured to the left where the room had formed a compact copy of what it normally did whenever he ventured in, a leather armchair with a bookshelf near it and a writing desk in the corner.

"Think your some kind of little genius? I'll have you know that that was what I was thinking as well," he muttered sitting in the armchair and pulling a book violently off of the shelf.

"I'm sure you were," she replied, as the cat on her lap began to purr. Draco opened the book, but he found that his eyes kept drifting over the page to where the Weasel girl sat, her red hair glinting in the sunlight which reflected off of the snow and into the window. He had never noticed before how delicate the curves of her eyebrows were. Snap out of it, he told himself, just because Pansy looks like a pug does not mean you have to fawn over a Gryffindor.

Still he kept looking at her, and it was not long before she felt his gaze, she turned from the window, "What? Trying to figure out how to make me leave? Because I won't."

"No. I was… trying to figure out why you are not off tagging after perfect Potter," Draco said quickly.

"He went home for Christmas, well to my parents anyway. I know it disappoints you that he's not here for you to torment."

"And I know that it disappoints you that he is not here for you to snog." To his surprise she made a face.

"Snog Harry? You're mad. I mean there was a time, but I was a kid then."

"Oh," Draco said, looking away from her, trying to focus on his book again. It was interesting to know that she was not in love with Potter anymore. He knew Slytherin girls who would love to snog Potter, he'd grown over the summer or something, and that girl had been following him with a love struck look in her eyes for years. Or she did, but you haven't noticed her recently have you? That was true, he thought as he looked over her again. Interesting.

Ginny wished that she knew what the interrogation was about, why did he care why she was there? Well two could play at that game then, "So, what are you doing in here? Finally escape from your two apes?"

For just a second she thought she saw a smile flash over his thin lips, "For your information I have," he drawled, "Left them in the common room stuffing their faces."

A snort of laughter escaped her, and he grinned, but she quickly collected herself, "Hmm, however are you managing without them around to back up your every word?"

"Why do I need them to back up my words Weasley, they're true," said Draco, smugly. Ginny glared at him and looked out the window, the cat on her lap purred and she scratched it between the ears murmuring a bit. She had always liked cats, but her mum had never let her have one, said she was allergic though Crookshanks never seemed to bother her. Ginny supposed that she could keep it though, what could her mother do?

"You never answered my question Weasel girl, why are you here?"

Ginny turned back to him and shot, "You did not ask me that, you asked me why I was not snogging Harry and the answer is I don't want to."

"All right fine, why are you here?"

"I don't have to answer that." Ginny replied, she looked down at her lap and her hair fell over her face in a curtain, the kitten looked up at her its eyes narrowed as if to say nice answer… "You're a cat, what do you know?" she whispered to it.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked, sounding amused.

"Nothing," Ginny responded hurriedly.

They were silent for a minute, the only noise the soft mewing of the cat, and then Malfoy decided to speak again, "You may not have to answer my question, but come on, what would it hurt?"

"What would it hurt?" Ginny repeated, looking up at him wide-eyed, "That's rich, coming from you. Coming from one of you," she added, before she could stop, and then quickly looked away.

"One of me? What the heck is that supposed to mean? I was not aware I had been cloned." he asked and Ginny sighed, looking out the window again on the lake, her eyes following the path of an owl as it swooped past the window towards the owlery.

"Not one of you exclusive you, one of you inclusive you?" she answered.

His eyebrow cocked, "Excuse me?"

"Not you Draco Malfoy, you a Slytherin! You the son of a Deatheater! That kind of you!" she burst out finally, "Does that make sense now? Did it go through your over-thick, smug, self absorbed skull? Just leave me alone, okay?" she turned herself around, so that her back was to him. The kitten meowed in protest at this move, but she ignored it, the last thing she needed was a kitten telling her she was over-reacting.

Draco tried not to be surprised at her little outburst, after all that was how most people felt about him, the scumbag Slytherin who saw only past the end of his nose, that was nothing new, she was just another one, that was all. With a grunt of annoyance he returned to his book and quiet reigned again.

After a few minutes though he heard noise coming from where she sat on the window seat and he looked up. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, the kitten looking slightly put out at her side, her hair covered her face, but he could see her thin shoulders shaking.

He wondered for a minute about what to do, it was not as if he wanted to comfort her or anything, but would not mind stopping her crying; before he finished thinking words escaped him, "Tears Weasley? Come now, Potter's absence can't have upset you that badly."

Well, if what he had wanted had been to stop her crying this worked, her head shot up from her arms, and she looked daggers at him, blue eyes made bluer by the rim of tears that still rested against her bottom eyelid.

"How many bloody times do I have to tell you? I do not like Harry!" she continued to glare for a minute before turning away, and though she clearly did not want him to he heard her murmur, "God knows he wouldn't understand this."
Lifting his book up to hide his face Draco bit his lip, wondering what would lie in pressing the matter further, then decided that it would not be he that he hurt if he kept talking, "Now you've made me curious, what's up?"

"You mean you don't know? Daddy doesn't inform you of everything that's happening in Voldemort's circle?" she asked, looking up at him again, her cheeks were tearstained and against her pale cheeks her eyes looked as red as her hair, they were accusing those eyes; they seemed to burn through him more than any spell.

With her eyes on her he found that he could find no answer except: "No…. no…. I do not talk to my father."

"Oh how sad for you. Azkaban too harsh for grand old Mr. Malfoy to even get an owl out?" she asked, sarcastically, but he could see that she was curious, she moved her body the slightest bit towards him, just enough so that she could see him more clearly.

Draco found that he could not look at her when he answered, did not want to see the look of gloating that would pass over his face, and though the thought of lying crossed his mind, indeed he played with it seriously for a moment, but he found that he could not. There was something about being her alone with her, with no other witnesses that awakened something within him that he did not know existed.

Ginny could feel the tears drying stiffly on her cheeks, and there was still a lump in her throat that made swallowing difficult, but she was caught into this… this something that was happening. She could feel the tension within Malfoy as she watched him stare at the ceiling, and then his words came.

"My father… well you were there right? He was captured and… well… I sort of lost all respect for him then. He told me all my life that to get caught was to fail, he nearly killed me my first year when I got caught out of bed, but then he did it. My father got caught." He lowered his gaze from he ceiling and on his thin pale face she saw something that on anyone she considered human would be anguish.

Ginny was surprised to hear this confession, to say the least, and surprised at the content of it. She, and everyone else had always seen him as a clone of his father, and she thought that it was sort of admirable for him to break away from him; in an odd sort of way. She toyed with telling him this and then decided that it would not harm anything. So she did. She told him what she was thinking.

When she had done it he seemed to sit up a little straighter, "Yeah, well," he muttered, "It was not exactly by choice or anything. Just that.… I could not see him in the same light. I don't guess you understand but-"

"No, I sort of do," she broke in, "My brother Percy… he was loyal to the Ministry last year during all that with Umbitch," she paused, as a slight smirk passed his face, "Well he decided that it would be a 'nice gesture' to try and reconcile with the family. Mum and Dad tried to let him back in and whatnot, but I just could not. He had not cared when Mum was crying over him, why should we care about him any more?" her voice grew louder with this last statement and she blushed a bit, turning to him further so that her legs slid off of the window seat and the kitten hissed before hopping down and settling in front of the fire.

"Why Weasley, you sound like a Slytherin," he said sounding amused, and she felt her face grow hot.

"I am no Slytherin Malfoy!" Ginny protested, turning away from him. There had been someone else who had once called her a Slytherin, lovingly, telling her that she was different from her brothers, because she saw things how they were, she was not blinded by Gryffindor ideals.

"Alright fire-hair, don't get all worked up." Draco answered, raising a hand, "I did not mean it like that, just that you do not sound like some all-loving Gryffindors I have talked to."

Ginny was about to say no that's the Hufflepuffs, but then she thought of Zacharias Smith, he sure was not all-loving; so she just shrugged. "Fine. Whatever."

He sat back in his chair, looking as if he fancied himself king of the world. "So you're a proud little Gryffindor, why's a strong, noble, courageous girl like you hidden away in here crying with someone you hate?"

It was then that four fateful words came out of her mouth, flowing forth, before she could stop them. "I don't hate you." He was startled, but did not comment on them, and she was forced to plunge forth into an explanation to avoid lasting tension.

Draco sat there, unable to move as she told him why she was crying, until she finished with tears in her eyes and his body rose without his consent to walk over and sit next to her, but that was after she shared the reason for her tears.

"It's…. Well….My….I…." she took a deep breath, "Okay. This is hard okay? If you understand that- I mean…. Nevermind…." She swallowed and took on a serene look, almost like a mask, "The thing is, my brother. My eldest brother Bill. He was involved in the resistance. He was in France. There was an attack in a shopping area. Bill saved nearly all the people but-" a choking sob escaped her and he could almost see the mask break and fall to the floor, shattering into a million pieces, "but he was killed," she said, the words barely escaping. She covered her face with her hands, fingers clenched closely together.

It was then that Draco walked over to her and sat on the seat next to her, slightly uncomfortable, but her words, her admittance that she did not hate him; that was something. Nearly everyone hated him. Pansy hated him ever since he told her that he no longer wanted 'to be involved with her', Crabbe and Goyle might hate him if they knew enough to hate him, his mother was not particularly fond of him nor was his father; even the servants hated him.

This knowledge, that she did not hate him, and he knew it was true by the way the words had come, caused him to have the courage to put a hand on her shoulder. To his shock, and most probably hers as well she leaned into his hand, sobbing so that her entire body shook violently.

He slid his hand over so that it went to her shoulder and draw her against him. He had never acted on instinct like this, and if you had told him that morning what would be happening he would have hexed you, but there was just something in the air here… something different than the rest of the world.

She too was acting on instinct, leaning against him, crying into his chest. He felt his robes get damp, but he did not mind. One of her hands clutched at the fabric of his robe and he patted her back awkwardly. "He was my favourite br-brother," she choked out, "wh-when I w-was l-little, he was th-the only one w-who w-would m-make th-the others l-let m-me play. I h-hated it wh-when he w-was at Hogwarts, and th-then he m-moved away. But he w-was b-back and it w-was l-like it used to b-be and then he w-went and got himself…. K-killed." At that word she burst into fresh sobs, but they were lighter and she kept sniffing to try and control herself.

Resting his chin on the top of her head Draco looked down at the floor where the cat was sitting looking up at them with what he would have sworn was a smile on its face.

Ginny did not even want to understand what was happening to her, why she was crying in the arms of Draco Malfoy, why she was letting herself cry in front of him at all, why she was even speaking to him; none of it made sense, and who knew if she wanted it to? This making sense might lead to answers she did not want to hear, bring up things that she did not want to face.

It took a few minutes before she was able to stop her crying and sit up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Here," Malfoy said, fishing around in the pockets of his robes and pulling out a silk handkerchief. Ginny took it from him and wiped her face with it before taking out her wand and murmuring "Scourgify."

She handed it back to him and he slipped it back in his pocket. As she handed it to him their fingers touched and she took her hand away slowly, not quite wanting the touch to end. As he looked up from putting the piece of cloth away their eyes met, and she saw something in his eyes that she had never seen, they seemed deeper than ever, a sea of grey trapped in a white expanse, and she stood poised to dive.

Their faces drew close and she kept expecting him to break the connection, expected herself to break the connection, waited for the sky to fall, waited to wake up, but none of those things happened before their lips met, before she plunged into the seas.

His lips tasted sweet, and when he parted them just enough for her tongue to slide in, a shock rushed through her, something different from any other kiss she had had. His hands travelled up and down her back, rhythmically, occasionally venturing to her neck or down just below her waist. When they broke apart she could see his muscles tighten, see his throat making motions as if she was about to speak, but she could not bare it if he did, so she put a finger to his pink lips and shushed him, feeling her eyes twinkle.

"Don't," she said, "Just don't," and she took her finger away only to replace it with her lips. His body was warm against hers, warmer than he had any right to be living down in that cold dungeon, being who he was. Out of the corner of her eyes she glanced out the window and watched the fat flakes of white show floating down to the earth where they rested on top of already formed piles, joining their fellow snowflakes to form clumps that once she would have enjoyed throwing at her brothers. Funny how now, sitting safe in the arms of her brother's arch nemesis, she did not miss her other Christmases in the slightest.

After this kiss they broke apart for more than a breath's length of time, long enough for Ginny to realize that she was hungry. She voiced this aloud, a little bit in awe as she had not felt properly hungry in days, in weeks, since Bill's death. As soon as she said it a table appeared at Draco's elbow bearing a bowl full of brightly coloured fruits.

Ginny sat up slightly and snuggled against Draco, and it felt more natural than anything as he took out his wand to cut the fruit.

Draco did not care. He did not care that what was happening could ruin him that it was probably only happening because they were both in some sort of state of delirium, that as soon as they went back to their separate common rooms it would end. No, his mind was too full to care about that.

What he cared about was the shape of her mouth as her lips closed around the pieces of fruit he put there, the way she sucked on his fingers playfully to get the juice off of them, on how she reached up behind her to let him do the same. His eyes were full of her hair, his lips of her lips and his fingers of her smooth skin. She was his world at that moment and that was all that he wanted.

"Christmas colours," she said suddenly, as she lazily turned her head to the side.

"Huh?" Draco asked, as he began to run his fingers through her hair. She pointed one finger at the floor and once he took his eye away from the finger itself he saw what she meant, the carpet placed side-by-side by the room of requirement was half red and half green, Christmas colours indeed.

They stayed this way for part of the afternoon, Ginny lying in his arms, his fingers gliding over her face and through her hair, but after a while a couch suddenly appeared near them, and when he raised his eyebrows at it Ginny let out a small giggle and sat up, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to it. They sat together, his lips sliding over her cheek and down her neck pushing her over slightly.

They kissed for what seemed like hours at first and then became hours, both lost in the bliss of it. Their bodies changed position, their lips moved, but it all melded together into one fluid thing, one intricate dance that both knew but neither had ever been taught.

Draco did not let it go too far, he could not afford that and he knew that if it happened she would regret it so much that he would never have a chance of ever having her again, and though that was a firm possibility even now he wanted to hold on to that shred of hope even now that everything was perfect, it was that card tucked up in his sleeve, the card that clearly read, she will want more.

Tea was eaten lying on a soft rug in front of the fire, the kitten curled between them until the food lost both of their interests and they were together again, the kitten dodging Ginny's shoe as she moved to get to Draco.

The light in the room began to fade as the moon set outside and Ginny sat up, straightening her robe to look out the window. "Do you want to go out?" Draco asked gently placing an hand on her shoulder as he sat up behind her, she nodded and as she did there was a pop from behind them and when they turned they saw coats, scarves, hats and gloves had appeared. The cat prowled around them and purred in approval.

"D'you think he knows what's going on?" Ginny asked Draco with a laugh, as he helped her slid on the red dragonhide coat. She turned and let him tie the sash, laughing as he slowly pulled his hands around her waist to bring it to the front.

"Yes, I do believe he does. Did you name him?" he asked, opening the door for her. Playfully she tugged at his green and black striped scarf, but there was sorrow in her eyes.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "I named him Will. It is close to Bill but different enough so that… well so that it won't hurt so much." Not knowing what to say Draco gently tipped her chin up so that he could bring her lips to his.

They ran down the halls, Ginny pulling Draco by the hand, the sounds of their boots echoing, but not in a desolate way, bubbles of her laughter reached him as they ran and she burst through the large double doors with a shout of triumph.

The cool air hit Draco full in the face, and yet it did not seem to matter to either of them. Draco cast a banishing spell so that one of the steps was cleared of snow and they sat down to look out over the grounds. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed with happiness as the stars came out, twinkling above them.

Ginny was in heaven. There was no other way to describe what she felt as she stared up at the sky, pitch black but for the stars that flickered above them. Draco's breath near her hung in the air and she wanted to capture it, to keep it forever just for her. His strong arm around her made her feel that nothing would ever harm her, ever so long as he was there.

The light of the moon and stars reflected on the bright snow, making it seem as if pixies were hidden in the crystals, giggling and playing tricks. It was a wonderful Christmas Eve that was sure. "Did you ever believe in Father Christmas?" she asked Draco suddenly.

He nuzzled her gently then shrugged making her head bounce slightly. "Sort of, when I was very young I suppose. Our Christmases were grand, huge trees, balls, the lot, but my parents never really said anything about it, so one day I made the house elf tell me and would not let it lie."

"Oh what a horrible way to find out!" Ginny burst out, but then laughed, "Then again, Fred told me when I was four just to get me to shut up about Father Christmas. Prat was jealous that I got a toy broomstick. Not my fault he got his flying privileges taken away." Draco laughed, his laugh a deep baritone, and as he did Ginny saw something that made her grin and lift her head up.

"Look Draco! A shooting star!" she pointed one gloved finger up at the star, which looked like a diamond being dropped by a phoenix flying by. "Make a wish," she murmured, closing her eyes. She could tell that he thought she was mad, but she did not have time to work on convincing him, she shut her eyes tightly and wished.

"What did you wish for?" Draco asked when she rested her head on his shoulder once more.

"I can't tell you," she said impishly, "It won't come true," smiling she leaned up and caught his lips with hers. "Let's just say I want to keep my Christmas gift."

They sat on the step for a long while longer, her head sinking into his lap and his fingers running through her hair. As they sat Ginny could not help but wonder if this would be all they had, but then she decided that if it was that was that, after all, maybe it could not get any better. After all, staying together would be complicated and this… well this was perfect.

With a sigh she looked up at him and he smiled at her, leaning down for a kiss. "Merry Christmas, Ginny," he said quietly, his words lingering in her ears.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," she responded closing her eyes, but not letting herself fall asleep, she could not bare to fall asleep and let it all end, as she opened her eyes and stared at the night sky she could not help but wonder if maybe that was a sleigh she saw flying in the distance.

Joyaux Noël!