A/N: One of five advent ficlets that I've written. Check my profile for more!
Grand Gestures
Ginny eases back into her chair. The table is covered with plates laden with bones and the spread out piles of some odd vegetable Fluer decided to cook, the once massive feast now bursting in the bellies of the Weasley family. The whole family is watching with half amused, half incredulous faces as Bill and Charlie begin their annual pie eating contest that usual resulted in two moaning and groaning men reduced to sprawling on the couch for the rest of Christmas Eve, but Ginny acutely feels the stare of the man beside her.
"Did you like it?"
"Delicious," he tells her in the Scottish accent that always sends goosebumps down her arms. "Much better than spending my Christmas Eve alone with take-out." His hand moves to where hers is laying on the table and he gives it a squeeze that makes her suddenly interested in the way his large, calloused hand looks wrapped around hers. She likes it, a lot.
"Thank you for inviting me, Ginny."
"Always, er, anytime." She ducks her head as her cheeks warm, looking at him through her lashes for his reaction because she's not quite sure if she meant to slip up like that or not. His green eyes stare at her for a moment before his face breaks into a grin.
"Well, if I'm to become a regular I should work on beating your brothers. Pass me the pumpkin pie."
One Year Later...
"You were brilliant, Oliver." She says it with a breathless excitement that has nothing to do with the freezing weather and everything to do with the way his cheeks are red from the wind and his green eyes shine with the exhilaration of a good Quidditch game.
"Maybe," he says, shrugging off the comment with his easy modesty. "But it's only cause I've got the most brilliant and sexy witch in the world cheering for me." She giggles at that and gives a yell of alarm as he drops his broom to scoop her up with both arms into a slightly sweaty embrace complete with a smacking wet kiss that she laughs through.
They break apart and Oliver waggles his eyebrows suggestively at her. "Now let's go celebrate Christmas, eh?"
One Year Later...
The Burrow is filled with laughter and gaiety as the grandchildren shriek over presents and the married couples share kisses of thanks. Ginny stays curled up in the armchair by the fire, already dressed in her traditional sweater and cradling a mug of hot cocoa. She smiles at the appropriate times and gives astonished looks at the presents her nieces and nephews come to show off, but her mind is millions of miles away. Wondering what Oliver could be doing this cold Christmas morning and when the terrible storm in Scotland will let up so he can Apparate home.
Little Victorie walks up to her and proudly hands her a letter. Ginny says her thanks to the golden haired child and doesn't have to wonder where it came from as she sees a snow-covered owl being carried into the kitchen by Charlie. Curiously, she opens the letter to read.
Dear Ginny,
I don't think I'll make it home in time. There's a big snowstorm about to hit and I don't fancy losing a limb to apparate home. I hope the owl makes it. I just wanted to tell you I love you. Have a Happy Christmas. Don't go inviting any other lonely bachelors over while I'm gone.
Love,
Oliver
Ginny smiles and rereads the letter, only this time she notices something important she missed before.
P.S. I promise I'll be home for New Year's. Just wondering, what size ring do you wear?
One Year Later...
"Come with me," Oliver says urgently, a grin spread across his face. He's bouncy slightly on the balls of his feet, so Ginny, just to be annoying, slowly sets down her book, stretches, and lazily rises from the armchair.
"Yes?" she drawls, but at Oliver's nearly bugged-look of anticipation she laughs and allows him to nearly drag her to the front door.
"Close your eyes."
She rolls them first, but obediently closes her eyes, sticking her tongue out because she thinks he's turned around.
"I saw that," he admonishes, but his voice is full of childlike laughter so the reprimand means nothing. He opens the door and leads her outside. The chill hits her and she shivers, and then, like the wonderful caring man he is, his arms are wrapped around her and she's leaning into his warmth.
"Open them," he whispers.
Lights assault her eyes in all colors of red, green, blue, and white. Their whole house is lit up like a gleaming beacon in the cool night. It was all to flashy and vaguely nauseating, but she could do nothing but laugh.
"You never do things by halves, do you?"
She feels Oliver's deep chuckle against her back, and suddenly she's swooped down in his steady embrace with a heated kiss pressing into her lips. She melts in his arms, the cold entirely forgotten, and all too soon he's pulling away with a heart-melting smirk on his.
"No, no you don't," she says dazedly.
One Year Later...
The last of the adults' gifts are opened. Wrapping paper is strewn around the Weasley family like a sea of shimmering foil and streaming ribbon. From where Ginny sits between the legs of her husband, she cannot see his frown but she definitely knows its there. She throws a wicked grin to Hermione, who brings up a hand to hide an unusual bout of giggles.
"Your holding my gift hostage because you wanted jewelry instead of the broom, aren't you?" Oliver asks, morose. Ginny's grin widens and she turns awkwardly to peck her husband on his smooth cheek.
"Don't think you can even dare to take my new broom away," she laughs. "I'm not sure I can use it in the next few months though," she adds, and Oliver cocks his head in confusion. "Wait here."
She slips out of her arms, returning minutes later with her whole family's eyes on her, save the children who are already enthralled with the toys and fighting over them. She drops down to her knees before Oliver and slowly, with the slighest of blushes staining her cheeks, she lifts up her sweater. On her stomach rests and little pink bow.
"Your present is in there," she says quietly. It takes two seconds for her mother to gasp, but Oliver stares at her stomach with his bemused green stare, until, just suddenly, they widen to the size of Quaffles.
"A girl? A little baby girl?" At Ginny's nod, he grabs her in his arms and pulls her on top of him, hurriedly kissing ever inch of her face he can find amidst the roar of laughter and congratulations.