As the next few days ticked away, Ginny's mood began to fluctuate erratically. Even though Riddle was hopelessly confusing her, she still found herself strangely happy almost whenever she was in his presence, and spending time with Abraxas was actually kind of fun, too. Mason, the only person who really could have dampered her spirits, had all but bleeped off Ginny's radar since their last conversation.

If it wouldn't have been for one nagging thought, Ginny would have been perfectly fine.

She had never, in her entire life, spent Christmas away from her family. There had always been Ron or Fred and George if no one else, but, for the most part, her Christmases had been huge, family-filled gatherings with tons of people, lots of food, and so much laughing and talking that you couldn't hear yourself think.

Hogwarts, with most of the students gone and not due to return until the New Year's ball, was pretty much the opposite. Erin and Allison, the only two of Ginny's friends that could be constituted as 'cheerful' were home with their parents, and even though Riddle and Abraxas were great, they were a far cry from Bill or Charlie.

It was Christmas Eve Day, just over an hour before Slughorn's supper, when Ginny found herself dwelling on these thoughts again. If it had been fifty years in the future, she would have been sitting around in the kitchen with Charlie, chatting about dragons while their mother baked. Meats pies and cakes and pumpkin pasties would have covered every available surface, with even more goodies still in the oven.

Now she was alone, in a too-big, too-clean common room, and even Riddle had something to do or some place to be, while Ginny sat around and moped. It was rather depressing.

"At least Charlie, and Ron, and Dad aren't dead yet," Ginny thought in an attempt to cheer herself up. It helped a little bit, but not as much as she would have liked. They weren't there, with her, and that was what hurt.

The portrait to the common room swung open. Ginny sat up a little straighter when Riddle entered, her eyes widening curiously when she saw a neat little white cardboard box in his hands, tied with a Christmassy red ribbon.

"What's that?" Ginny asked Riddle inquisitively, leaning forward to get a better view of the box. The movement was unnecessary, as Riddle walked easily over to Ginny and held the gift out in front of him.

"I distinctly remember that you mentioned getting me a present. I still think that it was foolish and unnecessary for you to do so, but Slytherins do not like it when they owe others for anything, even small matters, and so I decided to get you something as well."

Ginny stared at Riddle.

"Wait…" she said, her mind muddled with shock. She couldn't even make her brain work well enough to reach out and take the box. "I… it's not Christmas."

"It isn't a real present," said Riddle sharply. There was an implied, "You know I can't afford one." "Hopefully it will help to put you in a better mood, if nothing else. I never assumed you to be the despondent type, and it is starting to wear on me."

"Er, sorry," Ginny said. She still didn't reach out to take the box, and Riddle, looking at her like she was an absolute idiot, gently set it in her lap.

"I cannot say for sure, but I assume that this is where you open it," Riddle pressed.

"Riddle, you didn't need to get me anything, really."

"But I did," he said. Ginny could tell that the Head Boy was starting to get annoyed, but she didn't want to open the box, not without knowing what to expect.

Lord Voldemort. Christmas present.

They just didn't go together.

Another couple of seconds passed, and Riddle's eyes were narrowing with every moment that Ginny hesitated. Figuring that she didn't want his eyes to get stuck like that, Ginny finally sighed dramatically and forced herself to tug on the ribbon. Then she opened the box, slowly and carefully.

The smell hit her first. Ginger and molasses.

It was familiar enough to make Ginny's stomach ache.

With slow, disbelieving movements, Ginny leaned over and peered into the box, her eyes widening when she took in the neat rows of gingersnaps that were inside.

"Riddle… I don't…" Ginny began, but her words died off in absolute speechlessness.

"I asked the house elves to make them for me," said Riddle indifferently. "You had mentioned smelling them in your Amortentia, and I had nothing else to work with-"

Ginny cut him off by hopping to her feet and tossing her arms around him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Ginny said happily. "They smell just like Mum's, and I've been missing her so badly, and gosh, Riddle, they're perfect. I never would have thought… Merlin, you're absolutely unbelievable!"

Riddle was standing stiffly in Ginny's vice grip, and even though Ginny's brain was flashing little warning signals that blared, He likes you, don't encourage it, she didn't especially care.

"Peverell," said Riddle. Ginny could feel him speak, the breath from his words soft on her hair. His lips must have been within centimeters of her head. She didn't want to let go. "It was really nothing."

The Head Boy's last word came out choked and forced, as if he were hardly able to breathe.

"No," Ginny argued. She finally stepped away, even though it bothered her to do so. "They're perfect. I had six brothers, and I can't remember when they'd put so much thought into a Christmas present. I… thank you."

Riddle shook his head. His face was strangely closed off.

"You miss your family," he said.

Ginny swallowed and shrugged. She didn't think she could actually talk about them.

"Kinda, yeah. You know, Christmastime and everything. It's harder now." She could feel her throat getting really tight, and quickly turned around to grab her box of gingersnaps. "Thanks again, but I really have to go, and…" Ginny stopped. She didn't want to cry in front of Riddle. "I should go get ready for Slughorn's thing. You should too. We're supposed to be at the party in, like, forty five minutes. Um… gingersnap?"

"No," said Riddle. "I did not get them for myself."

Then he turned and began heading towards his staircase. Ginny mirrored his movements and retreated to her own room.

…

A half hour later, Ginny walked down her staircase wearing the dress robes that Dumbledore had packed for her- she'd obviously saved her dress for the ball- and nibbling on the end of a gingersnap. Her mood had increased exponentially as she finally processed just what Tom Riddle- the boy who had turned into Lord Voldemort- had done for her.

It was amazing, and it made her strangely happy. Even considering that she should have been having fun with her family instead of skulking around with the Heir of Slytherin, Ginny had to admit that getting a gift of any kind from the Head Boy was pretty impressive, even if he probably hadn't put much effort into it.

Like always, Riddle was already ready when Ginny stepped into the common room, and she smiled happily at him.

"I see that you're in a better mood," replied Riddle dryly. He must have stolen from one of his rich Death Eaters, or something, because he was wearing brand new, extremely expensive-looking dress robes. Ginny assumed that they were probably Lestrange's, given that everyone else's would have been way too short, but despite being from a man-Wookie, they looked insanely good.

Ginny had never seen him in anything that wasn't cheap, worn, or slightly ill-fitting. Now, in clothes actually suited for someone with Riddle's personality, he looked absolutely amazing. Ginny's heart actually skipped a beat when she saw him.

Tom Riddle. The boy who killed people and gave her gingersnaps for Christmas and made a million exceptions for an unexceptional Hufflepuff.

"Well," Ginny started. She held out a hand for Riddle to take, even though it really wasn't necessary, not so far away from everyone else, and said, "I suppose we'd better get going."

Riddle took her hand without question, but there was something in his eyes that made Ginny's knees go weak. It was like he knew something that she didn't.

"Of course. I could only imagine Slughorn's horror if his two prized students were late," he said. Ginny laughed as the two Heads started off to the dungeons.

"I can just see him, drinking himself unconscious as his 'special' guests keep asking him where the wonderful students that he's surely bragged up are. He'd never forgive us."

"If he would remember that we were not there in the first place," Riddle said dryly.

Grinning, Ginny said, "That's actually a good idea. I mean, we'd have to go for a little while, but I don't see any problem with sneaking off after Sluggy's had a few drinks. There's no way he'd remember we weren't there for the whole thing."

Riddle raised a brow.

"You aren't serious, Peverell."

"Of course I am," said Ginny. "I don't really want to go because I have a feeling that this is going to be boring. You don't want to go because you're practically antisocial. We could run off, go to the kitchens or something, and spend Christmas Eve with people we actually like."

Riddle raised a skeptical brow at this.

"Surprisingly, that sounds relatively logical."

"Obviously," Ginny snorted. "Everything that I say is logical, but most of the time, you're just too slow to realize it." They approached the door to Slughorn's room, and Ginny picked up her pace a little. "Now come on. Let's go hope that Slughorn gets drunk quickly so I can get out of here before I offend another ministry official."

"That was actually rather entertaining," Riddle commented.

"For you, maybe," Ginny said as they entered Slughorn's magically expanded classroom. There was garland and poinsettias everywhere, and strains of classic Christmas songs echoing through the air. Ginny had to laugh a little, remembering the potion professor's impromptu performance at his last big party.

"At least now he will not sound like a complete fool when he begins singing Christmas carols," Riddle commented under his breath, thinking along the same lines as Ginny, as the man in discussion bumbled over to them in his usual fashion.

Ginny wondered if it was possible for Slughorn to see someone come into a room without making sure that they knew he was there.

"Ginevra, Tom, such a wonderful couple," he said, just like he had when Ginny had been going out with Abraxas. Ginny supposed that he would be happy as long as she had a Slytherin on her arm. "I have to admit that you are both looking quite well."

"Thank you, sir," said Riddle, his voice and expression all politeness. "It really is an honor to be invited, and I look forward to seeing what guests you have brought this year."

Slughorn rose his wine glass to his lips and took a good-sized drink.

"I'm sure you are, Tom. I have told them all about you, of course. Now, I realize that you do not play Quidditch, but Arty Thomas, a great keeper for the Magpies back in '29, is very eager to meet you. I told him how tall you are, see, and he thinks that you could be a wonderful-"

Ginny cleared her throat innocently, and looked at Slughorn with wide, childlike eyes.

"Professor, forgive me for interrupting, but don't you think that Tom here is too smart to play Quidditch? I'm sure that he appreciates your interest in his future, but perhaps we could find someone else to speak to. Actually, I think I see a prominent ministry person standing right over there…" She pretended to look at someone over his shoulder, then continued, "Yes, we'll go speak to her. I think that I see Orion and Cygnus just coming in, and I'm sure that they'd be much more interested in talking to good ol' Arty, don't you think?"

Then, before Slughorn could reply, Ginny grabbed Riddle's arm and ducked away from Slughorn, who had already turned to go after Orion. Riddle began chuckling as soon as they were out of the older wizard's hearing range.

"You would have made a wonderful Slytherin," said Riddle, repeating a compliment that he had given her before. Ginny made a face.

"The Sorting Hat actually considered that. And Gryffindor. It said I was too dumb for Ravenclaw, funnily enough, but I don't know what caused it to shoot down Slytherin. It probably thought I smiled too much or something."

Riddle looked vaguely surprised at this knowledge, but said, "You're too good for Slytherin, to be quite honest. I'm not surprised at hearing that it considered you for Gryffindor, however."

"Of course not. Brave and stupid, did you call me the other day?" she asked, almost running over a tiny house-elf that was carrying a platter over its head. After a second of hesitation, she reached after it and grabbed a chocolate covered strawberry. "Now that's a compliment."

Ginny popped the strawberry into her mouth, absentmindedly vanishing the stem when she was finished, and Riddle only shook his head in disdain.

"Allow me to retract that Slytherin comment. No self-respecting member of my house would ever say such a thing."

They stopped in front of a couple of chairs and Ginny plopped down as she said, "Not a Slytherin? Such a pity."

"It is, considering that you are a Hufflepuff," Riddle said, taking a seat beside her.

"Hey, my house is wonderful," Ginny argued. "Very strange and untalented, but we're great people, and that you can't argue with. I've made friends with you, haven't I?"

"True," Riddle said. It seemed like he was honestly contemplating something, and, after a moment, he said, "I suppose that, if other Hufflepuffs are anything like you, your house would have the potential to be unquestionably dangerous."

Ginny turned to look at Riddle strangely, not quite able to believe that he had actually said that, but then realized that he was actually right. Hufflepuffs were totally harmless-looking and had a way of worming their way into people's hearts- if they had it in them, they could totally use that against everyone else.

She fell silent as she considered this, and after a moment, a really strange feeling overcame her, keeping her from commenting on Riddle's words. The party was by no means quiet, and Slughorn's music had switched to a terrible, shrieking 'modern' Christmas song, but Ginny felt like she and Riddle were in their own little world, someplace completley seperate from everyone else.

Riddle may have not been anything close to her actual family, but somehow, being with him filled up a tiny little bit of the hole that the Weasleys had once completley filled.

A good chunk of time passed like that, just sitting there next to each other, and then Riddle touched Ginny's arm to get her attention. His eyes were on Slughorn, who had another full glass of wine and was now speaking with Abraxas and some tall, gray-haired man with a big nose.

"He's not drunk yet," Riddle said, "but it seems that he has forgotten about us."

"Should we make our escape?" asked Ginny, even though she was rather loathe to move.

"It's as good a time as any," Riddle replied, and then the two Heads slipped out of the crowded room, completely unseen, walking hand in hand.