DISCLAIMER: The number one item on my wish list this year are the Harry Potter royalties. But Santa just wrote me saying he's sorry, but he's all out. (*grumbles* of HP royalties AND ponies.) So I don't own a thing. Except maybe plot and children.

PAIRINGS: Draco / Ginny, Harry / Hermione, Ron / Lavender, Bill / Fleur

SETTINGS: Post-Hogwarts, Christmas time, Burrow and Malfoy Manor.

PULL-IN: "She couldn't believe he was here. In the flesh. Even though, inside her, he'd left a part of him behind."

STORY BEHIND: It was the middle of June and I was listening to my "Maybe Memories" CD by The Used (who, by the way, kick major ass and need to be loved by everyone) and track #9 came one, "Alone this Holiday." Immediately inspired, I started to write this fic as a song-fic but it ended up happy (unlike the song) and fluffy (unlike the band). So out with the lyrics and with the same title, I present, almost 5 months after it's first draft, Alone This Holiday.

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- - - - - A L O N E - - - T H I S - - - H O L I D A Y - - - - - -

"He shouldn't have left, but she shouldn't have let him go."

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"It's Christmas!" was the first phrase that registered in Ginny's mind that morning. It couldn't be later than 6:15 in the morning, but shrieking children who barely slept from excitement, knew no time. It had to have been a good decade since the Burrow woke this early on Christmas morning. It was even longer than a decade since Ginny and all her brothers had spent Christmas together.

Not wanting to miss any excitement, Ginny threw on her dressing robe and pulled herself into the hallway. She was met by her mother and second oldest brother Charlie, who were being entertained by Ginny's youngest niece, (at 11 months) Isabelle. Ginny got a sad and guilty feeling at the pit of her stomach but smiled nonetheless. The mere fact that Isabelle was awake and excited and anticipating something she couldn't comprehend just dazzled her father and grandmother.

"Hullo Mum, Morning Charlie, Happy Christmas," Ginny said. But Charlie seemed too happily distracted to have heard.

"Oh Ginny dear, thank goodness you're up! Jonas wants to open presents and he's getting all the kids to whine to us but now that you're up, we can!" Mrs. Weasley bubbled. Jonas, Bill's eldest son and the first of the Weasley grandchildren, was infamous in the family for his whining and tantrums.

Before she could reply, 2 energetic boys, whom she recognized as Carson and Casey, her brother Percy's 4-year old twins dragged Ginny into the living room. She was met in the stuffed room with bouncing children, sleepy sisters-in-law, and brothers with intense bed head.

Present opening was a frenzy and part of Ginny missed being as excited about Christmas as her nieces and nephews were. Shrieks of joy could be heard from every child in the room as Ginny snuck into the kitchen for some cocoa.

"Happy Christmas, pop kin," Arthur Weasley said, watching her enter the room from his position at the end of the table in the kitchen.

"Happy Christmas, Dad," Ginny said, yawning, and making herself the hot chocolate she desired. "I see you haven't changed much. Loads of milk and if I remember correctly, 1 and a half marshmallows," Arthur said, sipping his cup of tea, "Same old Ginny."

She smiled. The only people in this world who seemed to take the time to memorize her quirky habits were her father and... call him a lost love.

"Princess," Arthur began, "Do you promise not to slaughter me if I ask something?" He asked. She knew a horrible question followed, but she bravely replied, "I don't slaughter on Christmas." He couldn't help but smile. That was his little girl, not so little and obviously feeling left out of the family. Her brothers were all married and all of them with many children or children on the way. But her wit was what she always depended on when she was dreading something, this he was sure of.

"How come..." he started, wearily, "Well, how come you aren't settling down?"

Ginny ceased all her motion and stood still for a moment. She was racing over acceptable answers in her head, but she knew the true reason. She wasn't too young, she was stable (emotionally and financially), and she was attractive enough, nice enough, willing enough. But there was one thing... person really, who just would not stay out of her head. He was Draco Malfoy.

The real reason was that she hadn't settled down because she fell in love, and couldn't imagine herself in anyone else's arms but the arms of Draco Malfoy. His obnoxious sarcasm and substance-lacking life had given way to a gentler more reserved person once the lights were off and she'd fallen helplessly for both parts of him. But they weren't together long, and weren't together anymore, and he was in no way a good answer, especially to her father.

She shrugged, "Haven't found the right person, I guess." she lied, hoping her father didn't catch on. But the truth was simply too hard for anyone to handle, she doubted she could handle it herself. She was having serious problems with the loss of him and even worse with the lack of feelings for anyone else. She'd thought it was the forever type of love that your family accepts for and you marry for and live happily ever after for. But sadly, her family just couldn't accept it, forever had run its course and she wasn't really a happily ever after kind of girl.

"Aunt Ginny!" 3-year old Samantha Weasley exclaimed, snapping Ginny back into reality. Samantha was clutching a huge teddy bear Ginny remembered buying for her, "Thank you!" she said, with a huge grin that was trademarked by her father and his twin.

"Sammie!" Fred said devilishly, as he picked the girl up and tossed her in the air. The girl giggled with delight. Ginny once again found herself having a feeling like she had a black hole for a stomach as she looked on to the way her brother and niece were interacting. It seemed that when he looked at his little girl, she was all that mattered to him and that he'd go insane with the loss of her. She felt like she was going to be sick. A child always deserved a father. What had she been thinking? She excused herself to the bathroom and as she was climbing the stairs she felt the guilt way down upon her.

"Aunt Ginny, were are you going? You didn't open any presents yet!" George's 3-year old, Elizabeth, exclaimed at her, just as she was shutting the bathroom door.

To tell the truth, unless Draco Malfoy was sitting under that tree with a bow on his head she didn't have intentions of opening her gifts just then.

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"M-M-Master Malfoy, s-sir? Your mother re-requests your presence down s-s- stairs, sir," Draco heard a house elf stutter out, then turn tail and leave his bedroom. He looked at his clock, 7:30, rather early for his tastes. It was the first time he'd spent Christmas home since he went off for Hogwarts. The manor was silent and chilly, his room especially so. Nothing really ushered him downstairs except the desire to avoid getting yelled at by his mother.

It was a holiday, so the foyer, as well as the whole manor, was decorated for a ball. His mother loved throwing them, with tons of money at her disposal and no live husband to scold her, there was nothing holding her back. House elves ran about the corridors, petrified form years of service to his father. They were just plain ignorant in Draco's opinion if they hadn't noticed Lucius' absence and his mother's cheer. Downstairs, Draco was rushed to a lavish breakfast in the dining hall while various elves briefed him on his dressings, behaviors, schedule, and socialite gossip for the night. He couldn't be bothered to find out those things himself, though god knew his mother loved telling him.

Finally, he was guided to the parlor where a fire was crackling in the fireplace and his mother sat proper, sipping tea, and talking into the flames to a friend of hers. They never stopped with this act. This charade was a full-time job. They pretended they lived in the 14th century and whatnot. They weren't women with money; they were Queens, for gods' sakes! It was this mental game that you had to conquer to win and Draco preferred not playing at all. He was not looking to own ranches and manors all over the world. He was not looking to "imprison the peasants for speaking ill on his court". Who talked like that anyway?

"Merry Christmas, mother," he said with such casualty that he was sure it appalled his mother.

"Draco, really now, can you not see that I am extremely busy?" she asked in reply, and Draco took that as an invitation to begin opening his massive stack of gifts.

A good half and hour of unwrapping and examining commenced while his mother chatted on, but Draco didn't mind. He understood that she was in the game to win in and she was the highest Queen on the totem pole, she was like an Empress. But just because he understood didn't mean he cared.

Finally the fire chat had ended and Narcissa turned to him in the fashion that meant one of 2 discussions were to follow; one was his horrible manners just then; the second, as usual...

"Draco how come you haven't taken a wife yet? I would like grandchildren before I am too old to remember my name!"

Draco stopped his motion. He knew the answer, it was really rather simple.

He'd screwed up, badly. He'd said the 3 words he'd sworn never to say and found him facing self-cowardice and he ran. That reason was in his mind labeled "Virginia Weasley" and it was a rather touchy subject for him. She was the one he wanted giving birth to his children and growing old with him. She was the one he wanted as his wife.

She was intoxicating in such an abrasive yet caring way and she drove him wild. But he hadn't even given her the chance to speak her reaction before he left. He'd left and never gone back, how could he have ever thought it could work between them?

To say the least, Narcissa was no Lucius but she wouldn't appreciate his feelings. Not to mention the fact that he walked out.

"Just to spite you, mother," he replied, trying to sound bored.

"Honestly?" Narcissa asked, truthfully. "I hear you say things like that and I don't think you're, joking. I know you didn't like your father, Draco."

"Didn't like him? Understatement of a lifetime!" Draco shouted, outraged.

"But that is no reason to resent me! I made a mistake with him but look at all he has left for us. Through his ashes we breathe new life. That has to count for something!" Narcissa continued.

"What if I said I was in love already?" Draco asked.

"Don't toy with me Draco," Narcissa said, growing steadily impatient, "I would say it was a huge step in the right direction."

"All right, what if I said she was muggle?" Draco inquired, watching his mother cringe at the word.

"I'd say it was a small step in the right direction, I suppose," Narcissa replied.

"What if she was mudblood? Face it, mother, we cannot leave father in the past because he has left his impact on your views. You could never truly accept a muggle or muggle-born."

"Draco, I would try! If you loved her, I would try my hardest!" Narcissa defended, "But the way you act... it makes me wonder if you'll ever fall in love."

"I have fallen in love, mother!" He screamed, angrier than he thought he was, "I'm not a mutant. I am your son and I have fallen in love before, mother!"

"Then what are you waiting for, Draco? I am telling you right now, I don't care what birth she's from. But just for curiosity's sake...?" Narcissa asked, calmly.

"...Pureblood," Draco replied, softly.

Narcissa squealed with excitement, "Well that narrows it down immensely! Families can't keep bloodlines straight anymore! Oh, is it that Zambini? She's very pretty, Draco!"

"It's not Zambini. It's not Larrow. It's not any form of Black, either."

"Well that only leaves the Weasleys! Oh my! Draco, you aren't homosexual, are you?"

"They have a girl, Mum. The littlest one," Draco responded, a bit emotionally. Draco stood up among the waves of discarded wrapping paper, "Get an elf to clean up this mess," he said, directed at his mother, as he walked out of the parlor with intentions of getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?" Narcissa asked him.

"To clean up my other mess," Draco replied simply.

"But where are you going?" She asked, exasperated.

"Out," He replied simply again, getting closer to his room.

"And when will you be back?" She yelled after him.

"Later," He yelled back.

"Be sure to be back by 4, Draco. That's when you need to be getting dressed for the ball by," She was screaming at him by then.

"Don't count on it," Draco screamed back before entering his room.

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Everyone at the Burrow had sat down for breakfast but Ginny. She snuck away. It seemed that she didn't fit in with her siblings because of gender and now she was harboring this dark secret (or so it seemed) and she just didn't want them to find out. It was the single happiest thing in her life, that secret, the memories, the feelings still left and still being created, but she couldn't share it and it hurt. Ginny spelled her presents to her room and began opening them while the rest of the family ate. She'd noticed the gifts from her brothers had gotten more expensive and she thought it mile-stoned success throughout the family. She didn't really care what she got, the Christmas season wasn't agreeing with her now that he'd walked out.

What was wrong with her? He'd said "I love you" and she sat there, too stunned that he felt the same to say a single word. But that got him upset and she'd instantly regretted not blurting out a rebuttal once he'd left. But she'd implied she felt the same on many occasions! He shouldn't have left, but she shouldn't have let him go.

Now where was she? Sitting alone crying in her childhood bedroom, that's where. Pathetic. No one to talk to and these horrible doubts in her mind, not to mention the guilt that still thrived within her. She was a wreck.

"Gin?" she heard Ron call at her door.

She dried her tears quickly and she responded, "It's open."

"Merry Christmas!" He blurted as he opened the door, "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, seeing her teary eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a rush of memories," she said, then sniffled, "Um, Happy Christmas."

"I just wanted to tell you the kids and dads are going out to play in the snow," he said, pulling on a knitted cap, "Mums and kids are going out after lunch and Harry and Hermione should be here soon."

"Okay," she replied.

"Are you sure you're okay? 'Cuz no matter what it is, I'll listen. You know that, right?"

"I know," she said, though she doubted he'd want to listen to her trouble with Draco. She'd gotten dressed and spent half the morning on a report for work before obeying her hunger and going downstairs to eat. After a quick bite, she was invited to sit with her mother and sisters-in-law for a knitting session. She wasn't listening to their chitchat of disobedient children and child-like husbands but was instead intensely concentrating on her needlework. After over an hour she'd come up with a pair of booties and a half finished small cap. She started to cry.

"Excuse me," she croaked out and then retreated to her room with tears in her eyes. She thought feeling worse was impossible but that had completely opened her up and devastated her. She was so pathetic in her own opinion. Now the women of the family either thought her mad or wanting a baby but they just didn't understand; they just didn't know.

Ginny couldn't help but feel the sinking in her stomach again as she watched all her nieces and nephews through her window. They were all so happy just throw around snow and having fun on Christmas day. All those children had caring mothers inside; some pregnant with more children, some positive they'd had their last. Every one of them with a father, and grandfather, and uncles all around them. All with full families and homes to go home to. They had the kind of childhood that every child deserved to have. Even the ones not yet born had magic in their bloods and they were going to be extraordinary.

Ginny almost cried. She was a horrible mother. She was a horrible mother and she wasn't even a mother yet. It was a horrible time in life for a child. She was still tormented over a relationship that went badly, with a constant reminder that was feeling less like a gift and more like ticking time bomb that was forcing her to make a decision.

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Draco had spent more time than he'd wanted to find the perfect gift for Ginny. It was Christmas after all, so many shops were closed, but he had tons of money and a desire to spend it on only the best, (not to mention a renewed acceptance for his first love) so he was forcing the shops to open. He was personally contacting the masters of the trade and seeing them in exclusive openings. But he had to have it. It was best gift he could think of, and the best apology he could imagine. So once he'd found one he was promised she'd love, he apparated to the edge of the Burrow's property and was struck by fear. She'd never said she felt the same, he'd just assumed he'd left too early, what if when he left had had nothing to do with it? What if she didn't love him? What if she'd found someone new?

"Malfoy?" He heard someone call out quietly to him from behind.

"Potter?" He called back, identifying the voice.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked him, "...at the edge of the Weasley property, hiding, while everyone's inside finishing up lunch?"

"It does look a little suspicious, doesn't it...?" Draco wondered out loud.

"Just a tad," Harry replied.

"Well..." Draco said, taking out a ring box, "I'm just giving a gift," he said, handing over the ring box to Harry.

Harry opened the box and was shocked that there was actually a ring there, "Who's this for? Fleur has been married for years, Draco... So has Lavender if you were thinking about that. Bloody hell! It isn't Hermione is it?"

Draco laughed while shaking his head, "It's for Ginny."

"Ginny Weasley? Why are you giving a no doubt expensive ring to Ginny Weasley?" Harry asked, skeptically.

"Why do you think, bozo?" Draco asked, "She isn't seeing anyone is she?" He asked, paranoid.

"I'm still computing the fact that there's something between you and Ginny... something serious by the looks of this ring... Um, no, still single. Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean... Hermione is pretty sure she's got one in the oven."

The color instantly drained from Draco's face, "W-what?"

"Well, she hasn't admitted to it but she's gotten all weepy this week and all her family swore they saw her get sick this morning. Hermione says it was just like when she was pregnant with Tyler. She's got this whole theory that she's no more, no less than 2 and a half months pregnant," Harry said, "I personally think she's off her rocker. Ginny would have said something at least to Hermione or her brothers," Harry paused, "Unless..." he started, looking at Draco.

"T-two and a h-half months?" Draco asked, his throat suddenly completely dry.

"Yeah, two and a half," Harry said, searching for emotion on Draco's face.

"W-we split 2 months ago. We were together almost 6 before then. Hermione's not usually wrong about this, right?" Draco asked, hopefully.

Harry grinned, "I can get Ginny out here in about 10 minutes, then you can talk to her if you'd like." Draco just nodded. 10 minutes, just 10 short minutes! He stood there, petrified for those minutes as he watched Harry enter the house and many children emerge in snowsuits. Then he saw a few women dressed for the cold follow after the kids and what seemed like hours later he saw Harry, and Tyler walk towards him with Hermione dragging along Ginny. Draco was daring himself to call out to her but he couldn't. A Malfoy with no spine, this is what love had created. Draco watched as the youngest Potter ran towards him, recognizing him.

"Uncle Ferret! It's Christmas!" The excited little boy exclaimed as he hugged Draco's knees. Draco picked the child up and Ginny at last laid her eyes on him. She looked shocked and petrified at the same time. "Hello, Draco," Hermione said warmly, "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Draco replied, but his eyes were on Ginny. He put down Tyler who went off to play with the other kids leaving the adults to what he'd mentally labeled "mushy stuff".

"Draco?" Ginny asked emotionally, she sounded as if she was about to cry. She couldn't believe he was here. In the flesh. Even though, inside her, he'd left a part of him behind.

"Ginny... I'm sorry," he said, and he thought he himself was going to break down into tears. But he had to pull it together for the third party spectators. The last thing he wanted was an ally and so-called 'war buddy' such as Harry, to go about teasing him.

"Don't be sorry," she said, gently, then paused, "I love you," she said simply; "I should have let you know that before you left."

"I love you too... But I was a bastard. You didn't owe me even that," he replied. Ginny walked the few feet between them and put her arms around him and they just stood there, hugging for a few minutes.

"Ginny?" Draco asked, getting her attention, "I have a question for you," he said nervously, pulling out the ring box with a shaking hand and opening it, "Oh Jesus," he muttered shaking still, "Ginny, Will you marry me?"

Ginny felt this tingling sensation sweep over her. She wasn't going to die bitter and alone. He was offering her forever and she wasn't going to miss her mark this time.

"Yes," she whispered back, and she heard Hermione and Harry breathe sighs of relief. Draco gently pulled her in for a kiss, "Happy Christmas," he whispered before pulling her lips to his.

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"Draco... I have to tell you something," Ginny said, as he slipped the beautiful engagement ring onto her finger.

"Go ahead," he said, smiling.

"That night you left," she started, allowing her gaze to stray to where he was holding her hand and back up to him, "I invited you over to inform you of something."

"And that was?" He asked, gazing adoringly at her.

"I'm pretty sure this would have changed your mind about leaving and for the past month I've been racking my brain trying to find a reason why I didn't just tell you. And I couldn't find it. Draco," she said, smiling, "I'm pregnant. And I haven't told anybody or said anything because I wanted you to know first. And it's yours, Draco. I'm sure it's yours."

"I told you!" Draco hear Hermione tell Harry and Draco couldn't shake his smile.

"I'm even starting to show," she said, "It was getting down to do or die time for me."

"I have a question for you, Ginny," Draco started, "Do I have to meet your brothers?"

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all laughed. "Of course," Ginny whispered in response, "They're really not so bad."

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"What's today, Mel?"

"Chizmes."

"And what happens on Christmas?"

"Peasants."

"And who brings the presents?"

"Santy Claus."

"So you think Santa Claus brought you presents? You were a good girl?"

"I was a very good girl. Daddy can we go open peasants?"

"Shh, Mel. Mummy's sleeping."

"Mummy's always sleeping."

A chuckle.

"She is not. She's just tired 'cuz your brother's coming soon."

"How soon?"

"Before next month."

A giggle outside the door.

"Daddy! That was Aden. Aden's gonna go open peasants!"

Rustling.

"C'mon, Mel. I'll take you downstairs. Let's let Mummy sleep some more."

Opening door. More rustling. Footsteps. Silence.

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"Honey?" Draco asked, quietly, "Lunchtime."

"What time is it?" Ginny asked, opening her eyes.

He smiled, "Noon."

"Noon?" She groaned, "Why'd you let me sleep so long?"

"Maybe 'cuz you're 8 months pregnant. Maybe 'cuz Mel woke me up first this morning."

She pushed herself out of bed, "Where is Mel?"

"Outside with your brothers. I thought maybe we could." Draco smiled full of innuendo.

"Maybe we could what?" She asked as if she had no clue, "Hurry up the labor?"

Draco smiled wider. He remembered 4 years ago, they'd been married for 5 months, and Melusine was on her way but she wasn't coming quickly enough. Ginny had been uncomfortable ever since her 9th month started and she was almost 10 months pregnant. Every day started out as "the day" but became just another day. It was getting to the point where 2 weeks late was enough. So the midwife Ginny stayed in touch with suggested sex to start labor and it had worked. It had worked so well that they almost had to deliver Mel themselves.

"Well. if he came out now it wouldn't be such a bad thing," Draco started.

"Draco," Ginny started trying to attempt to sound scandalized.

"You want it, You know you do," He replied, smiling.

"Well if I go into labor, we miss Christmas dinner, we miss your mother's ball which you know Mel is looking forward too."

"Well then maybe we shouldn't start labor, but we can still fool around, right?"

Ginny satisfied that by walking out of the room. She headed towards the kitchen.

"That's a no?" He asked, following her.

"Morning, Mum. Happy Christmas," Ginny said, hugging her mother.

"How's my next grandson doing?" Molly asked.

"Doing fine," Ginny said, looking back at Draco, "What do we have to eat?"

"Well you missed breakfast but there are left over pancakes, and plenty of cocoa," Molly said.

Ginny turned to get herself a cup of hot chocolate when she saw Draco offering her a mug, "Tons of milk and 1 and a half marshmallows."

"I love you," she said, meaning more than just for the cocoa.

"Love you too."

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Happy Christmas to all! Long live the great 'ship Fire and Ice!!

Hope you enjoyed it! :D

xxxkate