A/N: This is a one of two unrelated one-shots I'm writing for the DG Christmas Fic Challenge by fic-princess on RowanGreenleaf's DG Forum. If you haven't gotten a chance to check out the forum yet, you need to. It's a growing, active community of people who love D/G. Oh, and did I mention the shirtless cabana boys? Go here and say hi: .net/forum/rowangreenleafs_DG_Forum/54059/
"Where in hell are my cookies!" Ginny screeched, rounding on Ron with unfettered ferocity. "I swear to everything holy and unholy that if you've eaten my cookies I will positively rip out your brain and feed it to Neville's toad!"
Ron threw up his hands, palms facing his irate sister.
"I haven't seen your cookies, Ginny. Honest I haven't!"
Ginny huffed. He was telling the truth; Ron couldn't tell an honest-to-God lie under the best of circumstances, and facing the worst of his sister's temper square on was not good circumstances. Ginny knew too well that if the red face and rapid blinking weren't the give away, the repeated gulping was, and Ron was managing to swallow normally.
"Ginny, calm down. They're just cookies. The House Elves make four thousand, six hundred and eighty-two every year. I read it in Hogwarts: A History. You can get more," said Hermione gently.
"Not these, Hermione," Ginny said slowly, "These were mum's special recipe, and she sent me just enough Patsy Polper's Pleasing Peppermints for one batch. As a treat, since we're staying over hols and all." Ginny looked pointedly at Ron, who shrugged off the unsaid accusation with an innocent look.
"Harry, you didn't take them, did Colin?"
Colin had been incredibly interested in his breakfast since Ginny's explosion, but he looked up quickly and shook his head. Ginny frowned, then stood up and stalked out of the festooned Great Hall.
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her red cardigan. This was easily the worst Christmas ever. No Mum or Dad, no Christmas morning in front of the ridiculously huge and precarious family tree. To top it all off, she'd had an awful row with her bastard of a boyfriend last night.
She sighed, and tears prickled at her eyes for the hundredth time. So it was cheaper to keep Ron and herself at school over the break. So what? Wasn't family worth a few extra galleons? Now there weren't any peppermint cookies to be had, either.
"Done with breakfast already, little Weasel?"
Ginny shot the Slytherin a teary glare.
"I'm not in the mood for your snark, Malfoy," she spat, "so leave me the hell alone."
Draco held out an arm and caught Ginny by the shoulder. He was obviously fresh from an early morning Quidditch practice; his robes were damp from the snow, and Ginny could feel the chill of the leather wrist guard through her sweater.
"My, my. It's a little early for such a strong temper, even for a Weasley." She watched him as he eyed her carefully, calculatingly even.
"Let me go, you insufferable prat!" she hissed, jerking her shoulder away. Unfortunately, Malfoy was quicker—and bigger. He was in front of her in a heartbeat, and Ginny found herself face to face with the toned chest of the Slytherin Quidditch captain. She tried to dodge but he caught her smoothly.
"I don't think so, princess. What's got you all riled up?"
"I don't want to talk about it, especially not to you!"
"Oh really?"
He took a step forward, forcing Ginny to step back.
"Yes, really, your highness." she said, lacing the words with barely-veiled sarcasm.
He stepped forward, again moving her backward, toward the Hall.
"Something pertaining to the holiday, perhaps?" He said idly, stripping off his wrist guards. Ginny thought about dodging to the left, but she could feel his focus on her, even though his eyes were on his own hands.
"Maybe."
"Maybe," he repeated slowly, then brought his grey eyes to hers. "Maybe."
She hated his eyes. They didn't just see her. They saw through her. Damn Draco Malfoy and his perfect control. Her own temper just made her hate him all the more for his faultless command of his emotions.
"I told you I'd stay."
Ginny glared up at him.
"I'd rather rip my own brain out and feed it to Neville's toad!" she shrieked, attempting to push him. Her hands connected with his solid chest, but all she received was a low chuckle.
"As pleasant as that sounds, love, you should know that I never meant that you were unable to cook."
Ginny put her hands on her hips and crinkled one side of her nose in a look she hoped contained some fraction of her utter disdain.
"That wasn't so clear yesterday," she snapped, "I meant what I said. Literally!"
He laughed again.
"You're telling me that you are seriously going to submit your brain to the culinary designs of Longbottom's toad?"
Ginny spluttered, and Draco forced her backward again.
"I told you already. I don't want to talk to you right now! Hell, I don't want to see you right now. My cookies have disappeared—after turning out perfectly, I might add, because I can cook, and you are a terrible, terrible boy— you are the absolute last person that I want to be with this Christmas!"
"Then riddle me this, Ginny Weasley," Draco whispered in a husky voice, "why you let me maneuver you directly underneath the mistletoe?"
Ginny looked up, startled. A sprig of green leaves and white resinous berries hung teasingly from the door frame—directly above her head. Her mouth fell open, and she looked back at Draco, her chocolate eyes wide.
"Your mouth is open, Weasley," he smirked, arching an eyebrow mischievously. "Not that I mind."
He swept her up into his arms, covering her mouth with his own. In her surprise she shut her lips, but his firm tongue parted them easily. His hand was suddenly at the back of her neck, pressed along her jawline, and his fingers pressed lightly against the edge of her spine, sending shivers coursing through her entire body.
He ran another hand up her cheek without breaking the kiss, and she shuddered as he slid his fingers into her hair. He bit her lower lip lightly and she moaned faintly into his mouth. He responded by pulling her body closer, until she was pressed up against his hard chest—until she could tell exactly how much he was enjoying this kiss. She gave him the satisfaction of a shuddery gasp and tentatively began her own exploration.
Vanilla and peppermint.
Ginny pulled away sharply.
"You!" she accused, stabbing a finger into his chest. He extricated his fingers from her hair and flicked the offending finger away disdainfully, keeping a hand on her neck so that she had to look at him.
"Me," he smirked, and bringing his mouth to hers, he whispered, "and they were terribly yummy."
This story was inspired almost entirely by events at the forum today. So go check out the forum and introduce yourself! If you say I sent you, I'll be your friend forever. ^_^ (again, the link is: .net/forum/rowangreenleafs_DG_Forum/54059/)
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