Disclaimer: You know the drill: it's all the brilliant J.K.'s.
Author's Note: This is very random, and no, I don't know exactly where it's going, although I do have some sort of an idea. No matter what I do I am quite open to suggestions, especially those concerning plot. This is my first Draco/Ginny and I am going to try my very best to not make it cliché, as I know we all hate cliché. I am also writing under the influence of large amounts of holiday spirit, which can be dangerous in any amount. This is mostly a break from "Thirty Pieces of Silver," which is coming "slow but speeding," to quote the great Dave Matthews. I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block concerning that epic-in-the-making, so please bear with me, and if you haven't checked it out before, go ahead and do that because I think it's going to be quite good and feedback is inspiring! Anyhow here goes this little piece; I apologize for the horribly corny title. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!!
Merry Christmas! -Genevieve
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
Genevieve LeMéchant
Snowflakes fell softly to the ground and Christmas decorations sparkled and glowed as busy shoppers bustled through Diagon Alley. Ginny Weasley sighed happily. As the Muggle song said: it was the most wonderful time of the year, and for whatever reason, Ginny felt sure that this Christmas would be different than any other Christmas before. She hummed softly to herself as she blended a Vanilla Bean Blast frozen latté. When it was thoroughly blended she poured it a tall cup and firmly placed the lid on top. Ginny handed the frozen coffee concoction to the harried looking witch at the counter.
"Thank you, come again," she chirped cheerily. "And have a Merry Christmas!"
"You too, dear," the witch replied dazedly, walking away. Ginny smiled and looked around the busy coffee shop. People were sitting, chatting, sipping on coffee and cappuccino, and in this moment Ginny was very content. She had graduated from Hogwarts just three years ago, and was already truly happy with the way her new, "adult" life was going. She had a job she enjoyed at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley and also took a few classes at the London University of Wizardry. Ginny still lived at home at the Burrow, but this was not something that bothered her; she still had plenty of time to move away and get a home of her own, but she was in no rush to do so. All in all she was happy and wanted for very little…
Ginny was snapped out of her daydreams by the gentle jingling of the bells on the shop door.
A tall blonde man entered, a newspaper tucked under one arm. Tall men with newspapers were not unusual sights to Ginny, particularly not in a coffee shop, but there was something about this man that tugged at Ginny's mind. She watched him walk -no it was more like a swagger- over to the counter.
"Hi! How can I help you," Ginny asked politely, still trying to place the man in her mind.
"I want a large Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino Express, please," he said, in a rather demanding, though not impolite, tone. Ginny nodded.
"Coming right up." She turned to the counter behind her to prepare the man's warm drink. How did she know him? Let's see, blonde hair, cold grey eyes, and an overbearing air of confidence- "Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed under her breath in a whisper. He doesn't recognize me, or he'd have said something rude, she thought to herself.
Ginny had not seen Draco Malfoy in nearly four years, since he'd graduated from Hogwarts... Not since the fall of Voldemort. He had hardly changed, save for the fact that he was more polite, and slightly warmer than he had been back then. She'd heard Draco had left England after the downfall of Voldemort and the death of his father, Lucius. He'd gone to France, and then to the States. Rumor said that whatever he was doing abroad he was very successful doing it, whatever "it" happened to be. As Ginny finished up the drink and put the lid on, she decided against saying anything: why stir up old trouble?
"Here you go, sir," Ginny said, feeling slightly pained at having to call the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, 'sir.' "That comes to a total of five knuts."
"Thanks, cutie," Malfoy said, handing her the knuts. Cutie? Draco Malfoy had just called her, Ginny, a Weasley, cutie? Malfoy most obviously did not recognize her. Though Ginny tried hard not to react, she felt her ears go pink.
"Thank you, Merry Christmas." Ginny replied, watching him go. Malfoy sat down with his cappuccino at a table near the window and opened his newspaper. Ginny shook her head. This was just too weird, she thought as she wiped the counters down.
Draco Malfoy sat down in the warm coffee shop with his pumpkin spice cappuccino and his Daily Prophet, quite happy to get away from the bustle of the streets. This coffee shop was new, or at least it was new to Draco. It had not been here the last night he'd been in Diagon Alley, and that was the day he'd left England… Draco quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He turned his attention, instead, to his copy of the Daily Prophet. Draco was looking for flats for sale, having made up his mind to start again in England. Draco sighed resignedly and almost determinedly and began to scan the classified section. Draco was not far into his search however, when he was interrupted by a soft voice.
"Draco?" Draco's head snapped up, only to be greeted by a smiling strawberry blonde. "Draco, it is you! You've come back!" Draco smiled. It was nice to see a friendly face. He stood to greet his old friend.
"Hello, Blaise," he replied with his trademark smirk, before kissing the back of her hand. "Please sit down!"
"How have you been, Draco? It's been forever, since I last saw you! Graduation, wasn't it? I owled you several times, I suppose they never found you…" Blaise trailed off softly, looking slightly hurt. Blaise Zabini had been one of his few true friends during his years at Hogwarts, sticking him by him through it all, good and bad… especially the bad.
"Oh Zabini, you should know you can never find a Malfoy if he doesn't want to be found," Draco drawled jokingly. Blaise blushed.
"Well, actually, it's not Zabini anymore," she replied, gesturing to the diamond gracing one of her slender fingers. Draco smirked.
"Oh, don't tell me Goyle," he joked. Blaise made a face.
"Davies, actually."
"Roger, Ravenclaw, Quidditch Captain, made-out-with-Fleur-Delacour-in- the-rose-bushes-at-Yule-Ball-and-got-caught-by-Snape, Davies," Draco asked in surprise. Blaise blushed again.
"Yes," she mumbled before adding meaningfully, "All the good Slytherin boys that didn't have lovely little tattoos on their arms were taken… or else abroad."
"Well all the luck to you and Davies then," Draco said genuinely, ignoring her insinuation. "Any little Davies running around yet?"
"Just one," she said, smiling warmly at the thought of her little girl. "Lenore will be two January third." Draco smiled a little. Blaise had a family, a family of her own. Bitchy Blaise, they used to call her, had a little girl and a husband.
"That's great," Draco said, still trying to absorb his first dose of how much really had changed.
"But what about Draco," Blaise inquired, now donning her own smirk.
"Draco is still just Mr. Draco Malfoy, and there isn't, nor will there ever be, a 'and Mrs' wedged between 'Mr' and 'Draco,'" he maintained firmly.
"Ah, so you are still malicious Mr. Malfoy," Blaise mused, arching an eyebrow, hazel eyes twinkling. Draco scowled halfheartedly.
"Some things never change, Blaisini."
"Some, but not all," she countered. Draco shrugged, and then another thought dawned on him.
"Do you know the witch working the counter, Blaise? She looks familiar, but I don't remember her from school." Blaise's eyebrow arched even higher and gave another amused smirk, much like the one she had given him so many years ago when she had discovered him and Pansy Parkinson in a closet after Yule Ball.
"Fancying someone already, Draco? What happened to no 'Mr and Mrs Draco Malfoy?'" Draco merely glared at her so she continued, sounding suspiciously nonchalant, "Well, I suppose you wouldn't recognize her, as she's dyed her hair dark brown from that awful, flaming red, but I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy couldn't sniff out a Weasel when he saw one."
"That's the Baby Weasel," Draco hissed in disbelief. He took another look. Weasley was chatting with a curly haired brunette who had appeared behind the counter. Upon closer inspection Draco realized that is was indeed a Weasley, although he had to admit that ridding her self of the pumpkin patch-afire hair had made a world of difference. In fact she was actually quite good looking, wait a moment, what was he thinking? She was a bloody Weasel. Draco tried in vain to not find her attractive.
"I wish I had a time turner so I could go fetch you from third year and bring you to now so you could see your future self wanting to bone a Weasel," Blaise practically squealed in delight.
"Do you kiss your daughter with that mouth, Blaise," Draco retorted with a glare. "And keep your sodding voice down." Blaise snickered, and then glanced at her watch.
"Oh I'm late!" Blaise jumped up. "I'm really sorry, Draco! I'm supposed to be home in ten minutes to pay the nanny before she leaves and I've still got a bit of shopping left! Where are you staying, Draco? I'll owl you and invite you to dinner!"
"Oh, I've a room at the Leaky Cauldron for now," Draco replied, rather disappointed that his old friend had to leave him.
"Well I'll talk to you later, Mr. Malfoy!"
"Goodbye, Blaise," Draco mumbled as Blaise bustled out of the coffee shop. Draco sighed and shook his head, finally allowing him self to realize how much he had missed some things while he'd been away. He glanced again at the now brunette Ginny Weasley. Some things, but not all, he reminded himself before returning his attention once more to his Daily Prophet.
Author's Note: This is very random, and no, I don't know exactly where it's going, although I do have some sort of an idea. No matter what I do I am quite open to suggestions, especially those concerning plot. This is my first Draco/Ginny and I am going to try my very best to not make it cliché, as I know we all hate cliché. I am also writing under the influence of large amounts of holiday spirit, which can be dangerous in any amount. This is mostly a break from "Thirty Pieces of Silver," which is coming "slow but speeding," to quote the great Dave Matthews. I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block concerning that epic-in-the-making, so please bear with me, and if you haven't checked it out before, go ahead and do that because I think it's going to be quite good and feedback is inspiring! Anyhow here goes this little piece; I apologize for the horribly corny title. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!!
Merry Christmas! -Genevieve
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
Genevieve LeMéchant
Snowflakes fell softly to the ground and Christmas decorations sparkled and glowed as busy shoppers bustled through Diagon Alley. Ginny Weasley sighed happily. As the Muggle song said: it was the most wonderful time of the year, and for whatever reason, Ginny felt sure that this Christmas would be different than any other Christmas before. She hummed softly to herself as she blended a Vanilla Bean Blast frozen latté. When it was thoroughly blended she poured it a tall cup and firmly placed the lid on top. Ginny handed the frozen coffee concoction to the harried looking witch at the counter.
"Thank you, come again," she chirped cheerily. "And have a Merry Christmas!"
"You too, dear," the witch replied dazedly, walking away. Ginny smiled and looked around the busy coffee shop. People were sitting, chatting, sipping on coffee and cappuccino, and in this moment Ginny was very content. She had graduated from Hogwarts just three years ago, and was already truly happy with the way her new, "adult" life was going. She had a job she enjoyed at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley and also took a few classes at the London University of Wizardry. Ginny still lived at home at the Burrow, but this was not something that bothered her; she still had plenty of time to move away and get a home of her own, but she was in no rush to do so. All in all she was happy and wanted for very little…
Ginny was snapped out of her daydreams by the gentle jingling of the bells on the shop door.
A tall blonde man entered, a newspaper tucked under one arm. Tall men with newspapers were not unusual sights to Ginny, particularly not in a coffee shop, but there was something about this man that tugged at Ginny's mind. She watched him walk -no it was more like a swagger- over to the counter.
"Hi! How can I help you," Ginny asked politely, still trying to place the man in her mind.
"I want a large Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino Express, please," he said, in a rather demanding, though not impolite, tone. Ginny nodded.
"Coming right up." She turned to the counter behind her to prepare the man's warm drink. How did she know him? Let's see, blonde hair, cold grey eyes, and an overbearing air of confidence- "Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed under her breath in a whisper. He doesn't recognize me, or he'd have said something rude, she thought to herself.
Ginny had not seen Draco Malfoy in nearly four years, since he'd graduated from Hogwarts... Not since the fall of Voldemort. He had hardly changed, save for the fact that he was more polite, and slightly warmer than he had been back then. She'd heard Draco had left England after the downfall of Voldemort and the death of his father, Lucius. He'd gone to France, and then to the States. Rumor said that whatever he was doing abroad he was very successful doing it, whatever "it" happened to be. As Ginny finished up the drink and put the lid on, she decided against saying anything: why stir up old trouble?
"Here you go, sir," Ginny said, feeling slightly pained at having to call the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, 'sir.' "That comes to a total of five knuts."
"Thanks, cutie," Malfoy said, handing her the knuts. Cutie? Draco Malfoy had just called her, Ginny, a Weasley, cutie? Malfoy most obviously did not recognize her. Though Ginny tried hard not to react, she felt her ears go pink.
"Thank you, Merry Christmas." Ginny replied, watching him go. Malfoy sat down with his cappuccino at a table near the window and opened his newspaper. Ginny shook her head. This was just too weird, she thought as she wiped the counters down.
Draco Malfoy sat down in the warm coffee shop with his pumpkin spice cappuccino and his Daily Prophet, quite happy to get away from the bustle of the streets. This coffee shop was new, or at least it was new to Draco. It had not been here the last night he'd been in Diagon Alley, and that was the day he'd left England… Draco quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He turned his attention, instead, to his copy of the Daily Prophet. Draco was looking for flats for sale, having made up his mind to start again in England. Draco sighed resignedly and almost determinedly and began to scan the classified section. Draco was not far into his search however, when he was interrupted by a soft voice.
"Draco?" Draco's head snapped up, only to be greeted by a smiling strawberry blonde. "Draco, it is you! You've come back!" Draco smiled. It was nice to see a friendly face. He stood to greet his old friend.
"Hello, Blaise," he replied with his trademark smirk, before kissing the back of her hand. "Please sit down!"
"How have you been, Draco? It's been forever, since I last saw you! Graduation, wasn't it? I owled you several times, I suppose they never found you…" Blaise trailed off softly, looking slightly hurt. Blaise Zabini had been one of his few true friends during his years at Hogwarts, sticking him by him through it all, good and bad… especially the bad.
"Oh Zabini, you should know you can never find a Malfoy if he doesn't want to be found," Draco drawled jokingly. Blaise blushed.
"Well, actually, it's not Zabini anymore," she replied, gesturing to the diamond gracing one of her slender fingers. Draco smirked.
"Oh, don't tell me Goyle," he joked. Blaise made a face.
"Davies, actually."
"Roger, Ravenclaw, Quidditch Captain, made-out-with-Fleur-Delacour-in- the-rose-bushes-at-Yule-Ball-and-got-caught-by-Snape, Davies," Draco asked in surprise. Blaise blushed again.
"Yes," she mumbled before adding meaningfully, "All the good Slytherin boys that didn't have lovely little tattoos on their arms were taken… or else abroad."
"Well all the luck to you and Davies then," Draco said genuinely, ignoring her insinuation. "Any little Davies running around yet?"
"Just one," she said, smiling warmly at the thought of her little girl. "Lenore will be two January third." Draco smiled a little. Blaise had a family, a family of her own. Bitchy Blaise, they used to call her, had a little girl and a husband.
"That's great," Draco said, still trying to absorb his first dose of how much really had changed.
"But what about Draco," Blaise inquired, now donning her own smirk.
"Draco is still just Mr. Draco Malfoy, and there isn't, nor will there ever be, a 'and Mrs' wedged between 'Mr' and 'Draco,'" he maintained firmly.
"Ah, so you are still malicious Mr. Malfoy," Blaise mused, arching an eyebrow, hazel eyes twinkling. Draco scowled halfheartedly.
"Some things never change, Blaisini."
"Some, but not all," she countered. Draco shrugged, and then another thought dawned on him.
"Do you know the witch working the counter, Blaise? She looks familiar, but I don't remember her from school." Blaise's eyebrow arched even higher and gave another amused smirk, much like the one she had given him so many years ago when she had discovered him and Pansy Parkinson in a closet after Yule Ball.
"Fancying someone already, Draco? What happened to no 'Mr and Mrs Draco Malfoy?'" Draco merely glared at her so she continued, sounding suspiciously nonchalant, "Well, I suppose you wouldn't recognize her, as she's dyed her hair dark brown from that awful, flaming red, but I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy couldn't sniff out a Weasel when he saw one."
"That's the Baby Weasel," Draco hissed in disbelief. He took another look. Weasley was chatting with a curly haired brunette who had appeared behind the counter. Upon closer inspection Draco realized that is was indeed a Weasley, although he had to admit that ridding her self of the pumpkin patch-afire hair had made a world of difference. In fact she was actually quite good looking, wait a moment, what was he thinking? She was a bloody Weasel. Draco tried in vain to not find her attractive.
"I wish I had a time turner so I could go fetch you from third year and bring you to now so you could see your future self wanting to bone a Weasel," Blaise practically squealed in delight.
"Do you kiss your daughter with that mouth, Blaise," Draco retorted with a glare. "And keep your sodding voice down." Blaise snickered, and then glanced at her watch.
"Oh I'm late!" Blaise jumped up. "I'm really sorry, Draco! I'm supposed to be home in ten minutes to pay the nanny before she leaves and I've still got a bit of shopping left! Where are you staying, Draco? I'll owl you and invite you to dinner!"
"Oh, I've a room at the Leaky Cauldron for now," Draco replied, rather disappointed that his old friend had to leave him.
"Well I'll talk to you later, Mr. Malfoy!"
"Goodbye, Blaise," Draco mumbled as Blaise bustled out of the coffee shop. Draco sighed and shook his head, finally allowing him self to realize how much he had missed some things while he'd been away. He glanced again at the now brunette Ginny Weasley. Some things, but not all, he reminded himself before returning his attention once more to his Daily Prophet.