Author's Notes: It felt weird writing it since it's not winter yet, and not even near Christmas, but oh well. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nay, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters I use except for Professor Martin. But who'd want to own her anyway? On with the fic!

Analyze This

It was December.

It was blustery and cold outside and Hagrid could be seen from various windows of Hogwarts castle battling the snow. A dark, earthen path, created by an extremely large shovel with a suspicious pink umbrella peeking out from under it, followed his solid form.

The usual sights were seen around the various house common rooms; with maybe a few extra blankets and pillows than were visible during the first few weeks of school. Luna Lovegood inspected mistletoe that the house elves hung up for Nargles; Zacharias Smith was loudly debating the origins of Father Christmas with his few friends; Draco Malfoy was trying to decide if he should revise more or take a nap and risk seeing images of a familiar-looking redhead – he opted for more revision; Ginny Weasley was an amused witness to a row between her brother and his object of affection – along with the rest of the common room.

"Well I didn't want to sound too eager!" Hermione shouted defensively.

"Too eager? Too eager?!" Ron said, looking like a tall tomato with a jumper on. "Oh, why ever should you sound eager and make it easier on me?! Why should you let on that you wanted to go so I could stop torturing myself –?"

"Easier on you?! Torture?!"

"Yes! I'm the one who has to ask!"

"If it was such a chore, Ron, then you really shouldn't have bothered!"

"I couldn't bloody well not have bothered, Hermione! What kind of argument is that?"

"One that would have given both of us relief, because had you not asked me, we wouldn't be standing here, in the middle of the common room –"

"Stop caring about other people for one minute!"

"How can you say that, Ron? Harry's our best friend! What is the problem with extending the invitation to our best friend?"

"Only that he doesn't want to go! Do you Harry?" Ron shot at Harry, glaring at Hermione who had her arms crossed.

"Oh no, not at all," said Harry quickly, looking between his friends and then back down at a book in his hands, wanting very much not to even be in the room at the moment.

"See!" said the redhead. "He doesn't want to go!"

"Harry is just saying that because you put him on the spot!"

Ron nodded slowly and tapped his foot erratically. "Sounds to me like you want Harry to come."

"Of course I do if he's going to be lonely."

"He's not."

"How do you know?!"

"I asked him!"

"Asked him?!"

"Yes, I asked him."

"Oh! Oh! May I play the Echo Game, too?" Ginny asked keenly from her spot on the floor beside Colin and Lark.

"Shut up, Ginny!" Ron ordered, and turned back to his shouting fest.

"Well I never!" exclaimed the younger redhead, though with a smile on her lips.

"If you asked him that means you were thinking about this in advance, Ron, which doesn't make any sense!"

"Why not?"

"Because that would mean that you were making sure that…that we were…well…alone…"

Ron's frown deepened. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Hermione looked startled. "Well, no…I suppose not…"

Ron scuffed his foot, still angry. "Then why did you make it sound like I was forcing you to come with me at wandpoint? Why bring up Harry if there's nothing wrong with going to Hogsmeade…with me…alone?"

"B-because I didn't want to sound eager…" Hermione said desperately.

Ron threw his hands to the heavens. "What is that supposed to mean?! I don't understand!"

"She means that she wanted to go with you as well, but didn't want to sound like she had wanted to go with you; that would be rather obvious, obviously. And there's nothing worse that being obvious – it makes a girl look needy," interjected Parvati, stealing a look at Lark.

"Thank you, Parvati!" Hermione snapped.

"Oh, well you're quite welcome," said the girl.

"Look, Hermione, I don't want you to come if you're going to be as miserable as I am right now," Ron mumbled.

The bushy-haired girl's hand shot out to grab the redhead's. "No! I'll go. I mean, you've extended the invitation so I might as well…" As Hermione could see that that was not very consoling either, she hurried on, "And besides, I want to! I mean go with you – without Harry. I'd…I'd really like that, Ron – no offense, Harry."

"None taken," said the green-eyed boy turning the page of his tatty Quidditch through the Ages.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

"Very sure," said Hermione quietly.

Ron's ears were almost purple and an enormous smile cracked across his face. "Well, then! There we are!"

Hermione nodded rapidly, also beaming.

The two of them stood at the foot of the boys' and girl's staircase, Hermione's hand still around Ron's. Everyone in the room saw him give it the teensiest of squeezes and a few 'aww-ed'. When he heard that, Ron took his hand away and went to run it nervously through his hair, but then he looked at it oddly and chose the other one.

"So…" he said.

"So…" said Hermione.

"Tomorrow?" they said together.

And with one last look they both bolted up their respective staircases.

A great cheer rose up in the common room. Ginny ran over to Harry and gave him a huge hug.

"That was rather satisfying, was it not?" she asked happily.

Harry moved his hand in a gesture that said, 'so-so'. "Honestly, I thought it a bit anticlimactic," he answered dryly.

Ginny snorted and bounded off the chair and with a little dance hugged each of her own best friends tightly and then sprinted outside, rucksack jerking around on her back.

Finally, finally they had gotten together! It was definitely not smooth sailing yet, as Ron and Hermione had a tendency to mess things up when it came to the other, but for a beginning it was phenomenal. Ginny felt like she could explode with satisfaction. Her stomach was churning with excitement and –

Actually, Ginny pondered, her stomach might have been churning with starvation.

Most people had given up lunch that day in favor of staying in the common room and doing work, as the Christmas-work-rush had begun the week before. Since break was coming up soon the teachers commenced their pileup of essays and projects, many of which needed to be handed in before the students went home. As a response, many opted to use up their lunch periods and frees to complete assignments that they would never have been able to finish without skipping a few meals.

School was insane.

Lark, Colin, and the Trio all gave Ginny their sympathies for having to meet with Draco when she had so much work to do – secretly Ginny disagreed. Although she would never tell them so, Draco had proved himself to be a good person to study around. Ginny considered herself a diligent enough student but Draco's study habits sometimes bordered on obsessive – which Ginny was always wont to point out. More than once she had forced him to calm down and stop being such a manic with work; a few times he hadn't responded very well to her advice…

Ginny's claim that he was worse than a house elf trying to please his master pushed him to make a roundabout comment about Arthur Weasley. Unluckily for him Ginny had been practicing Shredding Charms – there went his sixteen-inch Potions essay. On the bright side it was only in fifteen pieces, an easy thing to piece together. On another occasion Ginny had stormed out after telling Draco in a less than nice way that he needed to let up or else he would end up as deranged as his father. Draco responded that Ginny wouldn't understand the importance of seventh-year, and that she never would, as she was too much of an imbecile to get past sixth.

That had not been an especially enjoyable afternoon.

Ginny burst through the door of The Room and threw her bag on her normal seat. Draco cursed when he blotted out a line on his parchment from surprise.

"How wonderful it is that you're here. Now leave," he said moodily.

"The sun is shining! The birds are singing! The world is alive!"

He dipped his quill in a small inkpot resting on an extra table they brought into the room a few weeks earlier.

"There is no sun because it's winter. The birds are somewhere south. People are dying of frostbite."

"Oh, get laid, Malfoy," Ginny told him rudely. "You'll be hard-put to ruin this for me." She sat down and took set out her papers to begin work, but didn't write anything down. "Ron and Hermione are going on their first Hogsmeade weekend together, tomorrow."

"Nice," said Draco. "Did Potter cry or throw a fit because he wasn't invited?"

"No; he was just as happy for them as I am – all of Gryffindor was."

"And you all care so much because…?"

"I dunno," Ginny said, twirling her quill. "It's just nice, is all. It's a relief. It proves that some things are meant to be – they're constant. Ron and Hermione arguing; Ron and Hermione eventually getting together; you being a prick…it's all a part of the universe's crazy game."

"Crazy indeed," said Draco. "Not to make you think that I had any interest in the love lives of your brother and his little friends, but I always figured that Potter would get the Granger."

"The Granger?"

"I don't consider her to be human – Don't get angry! You asked," said Draco defensively when he caught Ginny looking for something to throw at him.

"I'm sorry I did…but anyway, no, people who know them best always saw that Ron and Hermione were going to end up stuck with each other – especially after their fourth year."

"You mean when 'the gang' split up: Potter and Granger sulked around together and your brother tried to drown himself in the Great Lake from jealousy? That only cinched my belief that Specs and Beaver were shagging all along."

Ginny grit her teeth at Draco's remarks and the blond smiled contently when he saw; it was always fun to get a rise out of her.

"Actually Harry was bored out of his mind spending all his time alone with Hermione. We were talking about it a while ago and even Hermione said that her days didn't have the same 'kick'. But notice that when Ron and Hermione are all alone there are always fireworks."

Draco blinked. "That was really beautiful, Weasley. Your cliché comparisons between your brother, Granger and pyrotechnics have convinced me that love really will save us all."

Ginny huffed. "Just do your work."

He shrugged and lowered his head to continue writing while watching Ginny from under shuttered lids.

Ginny was annoyed. She had tried not to let him ruin the whole common room moment for her but it wasn't working at all. It was stupid to expect him to get excited over two people that he cared nothing about, but he could have at least faked it. Instead of carrying on anymore she decided to stick to her work as work was the only thing that stimulated him at all.

After ten more minutes Ginny found that she needed a fresh sheet of parchment to write on. She rummaged around in her pack, but found nothing save a few dry quills. Grumbling some more she stuck her head in it fully to do an all-around search. She really didn't want to ask Draco for anything…the last time she did he went on a rant about "never knowing that poor people were greedy" and they had had a huge row.

Ginny gnawed at the inside of her lip; Draco had a stack of parchment just sitting next to him. Maybe if she didn't ask but acted quickly he wouldn't be able to stop her from getting a sheet. Smiling deviously Ginny leaned close to get just one page from the pile.

But the damned thing refused to budge, and if she fought with it, it would rip.

Draco glanced idly at Ginny and then scratched something out on his homework. "I know you're infatuated with my cologne, but keep in mind that you're invading my personal space."

Ginny grunted as her struggle continued, but smirked when Draco exhaled loudly and handed her a sheet. "Humph. I do remember that scent well; it's on all Slytherin males: Eau du Female Repellant."

"Shut up, Weasel; this was imported from France. As a matter of fact I think that it's a fragrance created by one of the Delacours."

Ginny sniffed disdainfully. "That desperate to get with Miss Priss – I mean Mademoiselle Delacour? I should've figured; she's Female Repeller Number One."

"Hardly on all counts. Girls hate Fleur because they're jealous – females are superficial like that, you know, pretty girls hating pretty girls and all that. Also, it's not from Fleur's immediate family; one of her cousins made it, I think."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

The blond glanced at Ginny and then twisted his quill around in his fingers. "I'm not desperate to get in her robes – she's too blonde, you see. I have a thing for fiery haired temptresses."

Ginny looked at Draco in shock; but upon seeing the devious upturn of his lips as he continued to write his homework Ginny scowled and sat back.

"You little toerag. You're just saying that to see if you can get to me – but it'll never work. My heart is un-flutterable; just call me the Cold Hard Bitch," she said dryly.

"May I really?"

"Not if you value your life."

"Duly noted." He tapped his quill idly. "Was I really that obvious?"

Ginny nodded and returned to her homework. "You think you're such an angel and that I'd be daft enough to fall for your cheap lines. I've heard better ones from garden gnomes."

"I'm surprised that even a garden gnome would stoop to the level of 'wooing' you. And I never said that I was an angel, Weasley; I'm only guilty of looking like one."

"If I used as many Glamour Charms as you do I could pull off that line as well." Ginny scribbled a few lines down. "You're probably related to her somewhere down the line, anyway."

Draco sighed. "Aren't we all?"

The redhead paused. "You aren't – are you?"

The blond laughed, although Ginny noticed that it was a little hollow. "No, of course not. It surprises a lot of people, but the Malfoys and the Delacours don't share a common relative. The first time I ever saw Fleur was fourth year."

"If she belongs to such a high class family, though, you must have heard of her." Ginny touched Draco's shirt lightly and then pulled away. "I mean, you even know which one of her relatives made that cologne."

"I'm surprised at your cleverness, Weasley." Ginny rolled her eyes and he continued. "My mother is a distant acquaintance of Fleur's mother…Fantasia's her name, or something like that."

Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"When we were born they were thinking of engaging us in an arranged marriage."

Ginny eyes bugged out. "Surely no one does that anymore!"

He shrugged. "It was obviously cancelled or I would have met Fleur before three years ago."

"You wouldn't have agreed to it, though, would you?"

Draco mimicked Ginny intense gaze. "Do you think I would have had a choice?"

"Well…well…I don't know," she stumbled. "But I sort of know you, and I didn't ever think that you'd let yourself become roped into a scheme like that. I always figured you were…I dunno, stronger willed than that."

Draco eyes sharpened, but not in a cold way. He wouldn't have ever expected her to say that, but he didn't say so. "It's not a scheme."

"Fine. It's a trap."

"It is for convenience, I'll give you that. But someone like you wouldn't understand; it's not always as miserable as people make it out to be. You meet when you're young so that you can become familiar. Companionship grows from that."

Ginny scoffed. "What about love?"

He tensed at the word and saw that Ginny's ears turned a bit red when she realized what she said. "If that's what you're looking for, you may be disappointed." She looked away. "Or maybe not. I really don't know."

"You could be right," Ginny relented. "Some of the strongest relationships develop from friendship – look at my brother and Hermione."

Draco made a face. "I'll opt for looking away, thank you very much."

Despite herself Ginny laughed. "What? You don't want that kind of thing?" When she saw his startled look she rolled her eyes. "Not now, of course, stupid – I wouldn't even get married right out of school. I mean later on."

Draco went back to his work. Of course he had thought about it before; being in the kind of family he was, required him to think toward the future. He had never talked about it to someone before, and he was unsure if he wanted to talk about it with Ginny Weasley. However she had a stubborn trait that forced things out of you and he wasn't eager to start an argument.

"I'll have to have someone continue the Malfoy line at some point, but that sort of thing seems so far removed from me. Some people just aren't the type for all of that 'sunshine and daisies in the morning' crap."

Ginny laughed outright. "True. But you'll never know until it happens to you. What if it does? Will you turn away just because you're unsure?"

Draco didn't know how to answer that, and frankly he was finished with the personal stuff for that day. "Well, Weasley, I'm sure you'll be the first to know as you're the nosiest person I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment, as I've heard worse."

He smirked. "Do I get a thank you?"

Ginny snorted, but her eyes were dancing. "Nope. We ill-bred Weasleys don't understand proper social conduct."

He sighed heavily. "Then I shall have to teach you. The correct words are: 'Thank you, Mister Malfoy'."

"Sounds a tad stuffy to me. How about: 'Don't get ahead of yourself, Mister Slytherin Scum'?"

"You and your low-class jokes."

Ginny smiled at him and they sat awkwardly around, half in wonder that they hadn't nearly blown up the room with anger directed at the other.

Ginny heard a door slam down the hall and stampeding feet. "We're going to be late for class."

Draco nodded and stood up. They walked toward the door, still with that palpable weirdness surrounding them and then faced each other.

"Well, here." He stuck out his hand and Ginny stared at it. One second later she broke out laughing.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she asked.

Draco withdrew his hand to his side, a bit aggravated that she hadn't accepted it.

"You were supposed to shake it. I was trying to be civil, but I see that you're taking lessons from Potter," he answered in clipped tones.

Ginny's mind drew a blank until she thought back to old stories of the Trio's first year at Hogwarts.

"Stop living in the past – this isn't supposed to be a replica of you and Harry on the Hogwarts Express in your first year."

Draco ignored Ginny and walked back to his seat to get his things. "Never mind; just forget it."

Ginny followed him and turned him around before he sat so that he could face her. "Don't 'never mind' me! I can't not mind it if you're going to hold something that stupid against me now! We've got enough to hold against the other without this added new bonus."

Draco didn't say anything.

"You're acting like a child, Malfoy," Ginny continued, trying to get a response from him. Any response was better than silence.

"I've learned from the best."

Ginny's fists balled up angrily. "Why is it that whenever I do something, you automatically assume that it's to make you look idiotic? I only do that half the time we're together, not all the time. Don't flatter yourself into thinking that my sole purpose in life is to antagonize you, because it's not. I didn't shake your stupid hand because…because it was bloody weird!"

Draco laughed cynically. "Of all the things I've been called, I don't think 'weird' was ever among them until just now."

"I was only being truthful!" Ginny snapped. "You can't honestly tell me that shaking my hand wouldn't have been a bit odd? We're…I thought we were beyond that."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "We're not friends so we can't be beyond anything."

Ginny was stung but she responded to his observation. "I haven't forgotten that. You once told me that you hated me."

"Cut the holier-than-thou act, Weasley – you feel the same way."

The palms of Ginny's hand pulsed painfully as her nails dug into them. Why didn't he ever just know when to shut up?

"I've…I've been trying to get past that."

The blond shook his head derisively. "To better yourself?"

"No! To deal with this situation! I couldn't be here everyday if all I thought about was how much I wanted to…that I…"

"Hate me?"

"You're so bitter," Ginny whispered. "Your life has made you so fucking bitter that you can't even be reasonable anymore."

"All reason was lost when Dumbledore and Martin shoved us into this arrangement. Reason was lost when I didn't tell him to screw himself and these sessions. Reason was lost when I just gave you my hand to symbolize the first time we've been around each other without tearing the other apart." He laughed coldly. "That's all gone to hell hasn't it?"

"Only because you keep blaming me for everything," Ginny insisted. "You compare me to Harry when I piss you off or embarrass you; you compared me to your father because I hit you –"

"That day in the hall had nothing to do with Lucius," Draco hissed.

"The hell it didn't, Draco."

The blond froze at the use of his name. He stared at Ginny, daring her to talk more about his father, but she didn't take the bait. She just stood there, looking at him, making him want to crawl in the ground like the lowest of vermin and spend the rest of his days there.

She was right. He was bitter. And worse he was a coward. He wanted to be close to her but he wouldn't allow himself to, even though he could feel that he was gravitating to her every time they met – what's more every time he saw her he was drawn to her. In the hall he could spy her right away, but he always put it off as her hair being so bright that he couldn't miss her. That's what a coward would say.

He knew that she couldn't feel the same way. She was only being logical – it really wouldn't be possible to meet up if they continued to hate each other as they did in the beginning.

Ginny was trying to be…a friend to him – at the very least an acquaintance – and he was shoving it back in her face.

Why wouldn't she just despise him and leave him alone? At least that would make some sort of sense.

"Look, you probably want me to go away or you want to storm off, but that gets old after a while." Ginny offered a freckled hand to Draco. "I'm willing to swallow my own pride, even though you're the one who's being thick, so that I can still get you to help me with my homework when we meet."

She was able to summon a small smile, which only served to make the blond even more confused.

"Are you so used to letting things slide that you'll ignore this whole argument in favor of getting a better grade?" he asked.

Ginny's smile faltered and she didn't quite meet Draco's eyes. "I'm not 'letting you slide' – not at all. And even if I were, it wouldn't be for grades, it wouldn't even be for Martin's sake, or Dumbledore's or anyone else's." She paused. "It would be for my sanity."

Draco snorted, and after a moment of watching Ginny carefully, accepted her hand. He felt her squeeze it lightly as a professional handshake would go and released quickly, clearing his throat.

"What did you have in mind, then?"

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

"Instead of shaking my hand the first time – you said it would have been weird. What would have been less weird?"

He saw Ginny's ears redden once more and became especially curious.

"I mean as long as it's not one of those spit handshakes that you lower-class are said to do –"

"Shut it, it's nothing like that," Ginny snapped. Her eyes flicked to his and he watched as she swallowed. Ginny took a step forward and Draco automatically stepped back. Noticing, Ginny's face relaxed and she smirked, and continued to advance. She reached up to his cheek and touched it lightly.

Draco stood very still, unsure of whether she was going to do and hoping that she did it soon before he went insane. Ginny stood higher on the balls of her feet and all Draco could see was her hair; he closed his eyes and felt himself relax and tense all at the same time when her soft lips touched his cheekbone. His hand went to the small of her back and he felt her nose brush the side of his face. He licked his own lips and tried to keep his breathing even when her lips unexpectedly went to his neck for a feather light kiss.

Draco knew that he failed to keep calm when his hands unconsciously tightened around Ginny and she sprang away from him.

Heart beating halfway through her chest, Ginny waited for him to say something, but he didn't. So she nodded at him, cheeks suspiciously pinker than usual, and started out.

Not quite wanting her to leave yet, Draco burst out, "So that's what you and your friends do? To solve things, I mean?"

Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned around. "Er…sort of…Colin and I used to do that."

Draco froze, alarmed. "Not very often, though? Right?"

"No! No! Not often at all. Only when I was being silly," Ginny said quickly. "And not on the, er, neck."

Draco had the urge to fidget, as he saw that Ginny did; but neither wanted to admit discomfort.

"Then why would you do that to me?"

Ginny's glanced at Draco. "Because you're not Colin."

There was a pause.

"I see," he said calmly, though not calm at all on the inside. Draco was unsure of whether not being Colin would be a good thing or not. If it included more things like that, he was ready to strap on a camera, live with Muggles, and admire the way flowers grew in twilight. Almost.

A door slammed once more and the two snapped out of their stupor.

"I have class," Ginny said. "I have to go. I suppose I'll see you around, then?"

Draco bent down to put his parchments together so that he would not have to look at the redhead in the doorway any longer. "That's how it goes," he said.

Ginny nodded at him although he couldn't see it and left without another word.

"Oh, I forgot to ask where you all are going to be on holiday. I need to send you your presents and things. Ginny, you're going to be at the Burrow, right?"

"Yeah, nowhere especially interesting," Ginny told Lark.

"That's not true! Something's always happening there."

"Usually something happens to someone, courtesy of Fred and George," Ginny corrected.

"You shouldn't complain; you're just as bad as they are sometimes," said Colin.

"Too true!" Ron agreed readily, listening to the conversation. "I do remember that time you stole that really rare, antique book from me and used it as a towel for your stupid dolls." He waved his chess piece at the group assembled around him. "When I got it back it was mushy and unrecognizable."

Hermione appeared incensed at the fact that Ginny could treat a book – a "rare" one at that – so roughly; Ginny decided to set her straight.

"That was no antique, Ron; it was Marvin Miggs the Mad Muggle, or whatever you call it."

"It was issue number one!" Ron cried.

Ginny shook her head. "No, it was issue eleven – I've always told you that and you never listen. Fred and George erased one of the digits just to see how obsessed you would get if you thought it was worth a load of galleons."

Ron paused in his arm waving. "You mean all this time I thought…"

"Yes, Ron. All this time you thought you were sitting on a goldmine and it's really nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing."

The seventh-year looked terribly stricken.

"Don't feel sorry for yourself – you never even read it all that often or else you would've realized that it wasn't issue one," Ginny said.

"I didn't want to touch it all the time it if it was worth money!" Ron exclaimed. "And I read it frequently enough."

Ginny gave him a long look. "Yeah, in dog years."

"All I know is that you'd better give me a bloody wonderful gift this year. I mean pull out all the stops –"

"Yes, yes; more chocolate from Honeydukes…" Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively.

Ron scowled and moved a pawn on the board; Harry hadn't been listening to Ron's complaints at all as he struggled to beat his friend at the game.

Ginny only listened halfway as Colin informed Lark that he was going to visit his aunt over the holiday; and that he wasn't exactly looking forward to it as she always called him "Lovey!" in a shrill voice and tried to set him up with his second cousins.

Instead she thought more on the gift that she would be picking up the next day for Draco. It was a gift that would probably annoy him more than one that he would enjoy, but Ginny couldn't resist. More than a little thought had been put into it (and quite a lot of sniggering), and it wasn't all that expensive. She doubted that she would be getting anything in return, but of course he would hear it from her if he didn't.

Ginny sighed.

It was going to be rough at The Burrow without having her personal scapegoat to yell at and take her frustrations out on. Ron was going to be too sulky to have fun with, as Hermione's parents wanted her to be home for holiday, or at least part of it. If she did come it would only be for a few days at the very end. Bill and Charlie would be busy being interrogated by her mother who was in desperate need of grandchildren – or so she claimed. Percy was too busy being an arsehole and returning his Weasley jumpers. And Fred and George would definitely prank her if she got on their nerves.

There would be no one at all to steal parchment or sugar-quills from and get called a "greedy weasel". There would be no one to be absolutely furious with – it just wouldn't be the same kind of fury, Ginny reckoned. No one would be there to steal looks at when they didn't notice, or to smirk at when they tried to hide a smile.

There was no Draco Malfoy at The Burrow. And Ginny knew that it was irrational, but she wanted one very, very much.

She would miss him.

And all she would have to remember him by was the present he might give her, and the memory of how he felt when she kissed him that afternoon…

Ginny snorted and shook her head.

It wasn't like he had gotten eaten by a manticore or something. Why was she pining over him?

He was probably very scared of her now, anyway. Kissing him on the neck like she did…Ginny recalled feeling his hands come around her, and thinking that he was going to push her away. She had jumped back before he could do it first. At least he hadn't asked too many questions about it.

She didn't have many answers to give.

"Hey, Ginny."

The girl turned around and gave a friendly smile to the person who had been calling her.

"Oh, hullo! What's going on?"

The redhead walked at a slower pace to accommodate her companion. It wasn't so bad, as the snow was gathering on the road, and Ginny was in no hurry to get to Fred and George's shop. If it hadn't collapsed in all the time they had had it so far, it wouldn't just up and fall at that very moment.

She hoped.

There were slight flurries outside and she pulled her cloak closer to her. The flakes only seemed to attack her face now that her body was secure, so Ginny reached for her hood. She wasn't able to reach it until the boy beside her reached behind her and pulled it up.

"Thanks," Ginny said, pulling some of her loose hair out onto her shoulders and feeling a bit grateful for once that her cloak was as old and gray as everything else she owned – at least no one would mistake her for a Death Eater.

"Nothing much," Dean said, in response to Ginny's first words. "I was hanging around by myself for the most part, finishing up some last minute gift shopping." He held up a bag. "I'm not all that great at this sort of thing, so I hope the people who I got them for like them."

Ginny's lips turned up mischievously at him. "I'm sure they will – not that I'd know of course. When I was your girl I distinctly remember you being rather lax in the gifts department."

Dean chuckled, his dark eyes glowing. "You're lucky that I can laugh about that now, Ginny. I used to think that I'd cry just thinking about it."

Ginny slapped him on the chest playfully. "A big, strong bloke like you? Never."

The dark skinned boy rubbed his head as if remembering a headache.

"Against the wrath of your brother, I am but a flobberworm; Lark's more of a force than me."

The two of them grinned. The year before, Ron had taken Ginny's innocent mention of Dean Thomas as a prospective boyfriend seriously. Not knowing that he had become involved in a battle between the two youngest Weasleys over Ginny's right to date, Dean had acted as he normally did around Ginny – like someone who was not her boyfriend in any way, shape, or form. When Ginny had not received one single owl from him over the summer, not even at her birthday or Valentine's Day back at Hogwarts, Ron was most aggrieved and had contrived to go after him with Harry to teach Dean how one should treat their paramour. Hermione had pointed out to Ron that he shouldn't be the one directing other people in the ways of women, further infuriating the redhead. In the end, Lark provided a distraction in which Dean was able to escape from the Gryffindor common room for a good hour, in which Ginny was able to clear up the whole misunderstanding.

"I know, she's great," said Ginny.

"Yeah…but anyway, I was just walking around after picking up all the stuff and so I stopped by the joke shop. Your brothers told me to remind you that they're expecting you."

Ginny nodded. "I was just heading over that way, actually. I just came from Honeydukes with Seamus and Lark. Were you looking for him?"

"You're spot on," said Dean. "Are they still there?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I think they're headed over to The Three Broomsticks; it's starting to get colder."

"True." Dean looked deep in thought for a second. "D'you think they're busy – I mean, would I be intruding on…er, anything?"

"Don't fancy seeing what they get up to, eh?"

The seventh-year looked a bit sick. "Definitely not."

Ginny shrugged. "I really don't know. I think they're just hanging around; they probably wouldn't mind the extra company."

He smiled. "Sounds like a plan then."

They passed slowly by Gladrags and both realized that Dean would have to turn around and go in the other direction.

"Thanks for the info, Ginny," he said, preparing to trek back to the warmth that the promise of butterbeers afforded.

"Any time, my dear," joked the redhead.

Ginny went off to Fred and George's. On entering, she was immediately hauled into the door, dragged by two tall redheaded blurs on each arm. From what she could tell, they were taking her to "The Inquiry Chair". The girl almost tripped and fell face first into the hard mahogany wood, but at the last moment was pulled upright and instead fell in the chair properly.

"Damn you two!" she yelled furiously when she caught her breath. "Was that really necessary?! I almost got a face-full of chair, and all you'll do is stand there, pleased as ever that you almost killed the last Weasley. When I tell Mum, that you're still using The Chair even though –"

"When d'you reckon it'll stop, George?"

"I don't know. She's a hellcat like Mum, so I suppose we'll have to coddle the mite first, and deliver lots of warm hugs and kisses," Fred suggested.

"Right now?"

"Right-o."

"Come any closer and you'll have matching footprints stamped all over your faces. I'll kill you and bury you somewhere in the cellar, and no one will find your bodies. They'll just say you two blew yourselves up like everyone always imagined you would," Ginny threatened, sticking her leg out so that if they came at her they'd run into it first.

George blinked. "I really think I feel a tear coming on, Fred." He looked down at the floor where his brother was lying, evidently dissolved in tears.

"I know j-just what you m-mean," he choked out.

Ginny scowled and lowered her foot to kick the man on the floor so that he rolled over. His face was fresh and bright, without a hint of wetness; much like a good forecast for the day.

"Why don't you two act your age for once?"

Fred popped up and leaned back on the counter, legs crossed in front of him. "We will when you tell us how that would be any fun at all."

Ginny dusted herself off airily and breathed in and out for composure. "Just give me the dratted thing and I'll be out of your hair."

"No, not quite yet, dear sister – you're not in The Chair for nothing," Fred informed her.

"The Chair" was really innocent looking enough. It wasn't exactly comfortable – it was straight-backed and hard; its dark wood held a few scratches on the surface from someone's quill. It was unimpressive for the most part.

That was until Fred and George had picked it up from a rubbish heap when moving their inventions into Wheezes Headquarters, also known as simply 'the shop' to people who were familiar with them. The twins presumed that since they were suddenly away from home, they didn't get to see the good-old family nearly as much as they desired; they were no longer able to be privy to Weasley gossip as soon as it was hot off the presses.

Hence The Chair.

When various friends and family first came to see the joke shop, they found themselves being whisked into the mahogany chair and interrogated on pain of Twin Torture – torture in the form of being tested for their latest inventions. And one could not leave the chair until they thoroughly embarrassed themselves.

Family after all, was everything to Fred and George. Everything. And it didn't hurt that they got free testers either.

Molly Weasley decried The Chair as unlawful, and terrible, and a true shame, and threatened dire punishments if ever it was used again. And so the legacy of The Chair ended – but it was not forgotten.

Ginny reckoned that the twins knew more secrets than Dumbledore, from that hunk of wood.

"I remember you telling us that we were your favorite brothers, Ginevra," said George sadly. "Did it mean nothing? Are you so frivolous that you could discard us the following week, like dirty knickers?"

Ginny blinked. "No one wears underpants for a week, George."

"Fine, I'll think more along the lines of a freshly washed robe; I always wear that for seven days, eight at the most."

The girl simulated gagging. "With the stuff you get into, I'd like to think you'd change robes four times a day."

"Ah, but would that make any sense at all, young one?" asked Fred. "All of our robes would be filthy then, instead of just the few. But let's get to talking about the real dirty laundry, shall we?"

The youngest redhead in the room smiled. "Alright, then. If you give me what I came for, I'll love you two the most for an entire month, with the added bonus of dirt on Ron. I doubt that you'd get the exclusive I have even if you used The Chair on him."

Fred reached forward and ruffled Ginny's hair affectionately. "That's our girl; bollocks-breaker extraordinaire."

Ginny rolled her eyes and then broke out into a large grin.

"So what's it look like?"

Fred hopped off the counter and went to retrieve Ginny's item from the backroom. George turned eagerly to his sister.

"Your payment begins now."

Still grinning Ginny took a theatrical breath and plunged into the tale. "Common room after dinner: Ron invites Hermione to come to the Three Broomsticks with him today for a butterbeer. Hermione gets all nervous, and embarrassed, and proposes that Harry come along. Ron gets nervous and insecure; yells at Hermione. Hermione becomes more nervous and defensive; yells back. Parvati explains the intricacies of the female mind and uses the word 'obvious' at least twenty-seven times, or maybe it was two – I don't really pay attention to her. Hermione goes into nervous mode – big surprise there – then she becomes indignant. In the finale Ron and Hermione declare that they would both enjoy a Harry-free, semi-date butterbeer that will lead to their marriage with many, many kids. They become nervous together and run to their rooms to squeal and cheer and maybe cry with relief." Ginny exhaled loudly. "How's that for Ginny Fortescue's Special Insider's Scoop?"

"Even better than Florean's Chocolate-Mousse Supreme Delight," said George.

"Don't forget the rainbow sprinkles!" added Fred.

Ginny suppressed a flush at the mention of that particular ice cream. If either of her brothers detected it, she would be the one delving out information on herself. Did everyone on the bleeding planet like that flavor?

"I take it you heard every word?" asked Ginny.

Fred pointed at the floor where a fleshy looking line was dragging behind him; Extendable Ears.

"That I did, and I'm thinking of ways to deliver hell to our younger brother."

"Well we've done toilet seats – or at least we tried – this shouldn't prove too much of a challenge."

Ginny stood up and tried to peek around Fred's back where he was holding what she came for. "Let's see it then."

He pulled it around him and gave it to Ginny gingerly; the twins were always so much more careful with their products than they were with actual people.

"Let's show her how to work the joint, George," said Fred.

George nodded, and came closer to his siblings, pointing out buttons and ways to 'maintain it' for at least ten minutes.

"It's not a pet or a broomstick," complained Ginny. "Why do I need to maintain it?"

"Because it's better than some old rubbish Phoenix or Firebolt. Better yet than a mangy kneazle. It's a Weasley's Wizard Wheeze, is what it is."

So with extra assurance that she would keep the item in a warm space (room temperature preferably), under an extra blanket in the very cold of winter, and occasionally in the icebox in the dead of summer, Ginny was allowed to leave. She gave her brothers a peck on the cheek and with a jaunty wave pulled her hood over her head and disappeared into the flaky white air.

The door jangled closed on the shop and George sighed serenely. "We've done right by that one, we have."

"Too true; we've brought her up well." Fred went over to the till to arrange the coins for the next customer. After a minute he looked out of the door with a goofy smile. "Actually, George, we might've done too well. The little rugrat never told us why she wanted it in the first place."

George rubbed his hairless chin. "Next time she comes in, half an hour on The Chair, d'you reckon?"

"Indubitably," said Fred.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the object she had picked up from the joke shop in her pocket, Ginny returned to the Three Broomsticks to find that Dean was sitting with Lark and Seamus, and that Ron and Hermione were with them.

When they first arrived at Hogsmeade, the two newly-involved seventh-years had immediately gone to a more secluded spot, but Ginny supposed that now all of the initial shock that they were on a date together was out of the way, and they felt more comfortable being around other people.

She caught Ron's eye while Hermione was speaking rapidly to the other occupants of the table. The Head Girl's hand was lying on the table and Ron's hand was shifting anxiously next to it.

'Hold it,' Ginny mouthed. Ron shook his head a fraction, not understanding. Ginny was standing in the entrance, and no one other than her brother had noticed her yet; Ron and Hermione were facing the door of the pub, but Dean, Lark, and Seamus were smushed into the opposite bench – in that order.

Ginny held her hands up in the air and intertwined them. 'Hold, Her-my-oh-knee's hand!' She mouthed.

Not quite using the subtlety that Ginny might have preferred, Ron snatched Hermione's hand off the table. She watched as Hermione stopped speaking, and looked at Ron open-mouthed. A brilliant flush crept up Ron's neck and he started to pull away, but Hermione slowly smiled, linked her fingers through his and resumed conversation, with only the smallest hint of a flush. Ginny saw Ron stare at Hermione with a wondrous look on his face, and sighed a bit wistfully. Unnoticed once more, Ginny went quietly out the door. Her work was done; Harry would be proud.

Speaking of the green-eyed boy, Ginny thought that she might pay him a visit. He was all alone up at the castle, and though he didn't say it, she wondered if he might have wanted some company after all. After popping into Dervish and Banges just to say 'hello' to Colin and the other sixth-years he was chatting with, Ginny took her leave back up to the castle. Before she went to the common room to sit around with Harry, she wanted a little alone time to sort out some thoughts.

The redhead walked back up the Hogsmeade entrance where the carriages were sitting patiently for Hogwarts' students, and saw that there was one leaving right at that moment. Wanting to catch it, Ginny ran up behind it, waving her arms so that somehow it would notice the flailing body trailing after it. When it slowed down enough for her to hop on, she hoisted her foot up on the side step of the carriage and threw herself inside.

"That wasn't hard at all," she muttered, catching her breath.

"Don't get much exercise, do you, Weasel?" said a low voice in the corner.

With a jump Ginny flipped her wand out and pointed it at the person. She shot at dark look at him when he pulled his hood down and smirked.

"You certainly didn't think to help me, though, did you?" Ginny said, putting her wand away and patting the object in her pocket to make sure that it hadn't broken.

Draco smirked and pushed his hair out of his face when a gust of wind came inside. "Well I didn't think that you were going to attempt to catapult yourself into a moving carriage."

Ginny lowered her head under the pretext of tidying her robes, but Draco could still see a smile tugging at her lips. As the carriage trundled along she decided to interrogate him. It was too quiet.

"So why are you coming back up to the castle so early? Deserted by your friends?" she asked.

Draco seemed to look at Ginny for a long moment before answering, as if thinking about every word he was about to say.

"I was looking for someone," he said slowly, not taking her eyes away from Ginny's for a second.

Draco turned his head to look out of the small window.

"You didn't find him – or her?"

"I didn't say that," said the blond. "I found her just fine."

Ginny twiddled her fingers. "So…what did you get up to?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Feeling strangely put out, Ginny remained silent for the rest of the ride. Even when the carriage stopped and she and Draco trooped up to the Entrance, all that they heard was the whistling of the wind. They walked down the corridor for a while, very interested in the hanging torches and tapestries on the walls, seemingly unmindful of the other's presence beside them.

After ten minutes Ginny halted.

"Wait." Her eyes were looking down at the stone floor. "Wait for a moment."

"I have things to do," Draco said impatiently, although he stopped in his tracks.

"It won't take long."

He nodded reluctantly and watched as she took something out of her pocket and held it up for him to see.

"I remembered you saying something once about me never shutting up and that you at least had time to escape from me over holiday. I was going to wait to give this to you until another time…you see…and it's not even wrapped or anything, but–"

"May I have a look at it now, or do you still want to rant?" Draco interrupted.

But Ginny didn't smile. She paused for a moment, and then thrust the object in his face.

Wordlessly, Draco accepted it and eyed it. It was a large crystal ball with a polished, flat wooden surface to stand on. However it was foggy and the blond could detect nothing. He gave Ginny a blank look and she rolled her eyes. Coming closer to him, she held up the base for him to see. There was a small black button there.

"Push," she ordered. He did.

Suddenly the cloudy ball cleared and inside Draco saw two very solid figures in a very familiar looking room.

"Again," Ginny said quietly.

There was a small figurine sitting on a couch with dark black robes and very shiny yellow hair. He had beady grey eyes and Draco was sure that it was wearing a smirk on its miniature face. Another figurine in gray, admittedly shabby looking robes, with vermillion hair was sitting patiently with her hands clasped together. When Draco pushed the button the second time, the flaxen-haired figurine stood up, pointed, and laughed at the girl. The girl then jumped up and smacked the boy across the face so that he fell back on the couch.

Draco bit back a smile when he heard Ginny sniggering next to him.

Next, the girl stood over the now sad-faced boy figurine, pointed at him, and opened her mouth wide as if she was shouting at him at the top of her lungs. When that happened, the crystal ball began to shake a little; Draco assumed that it was the special effects. In the end of the animation, the blond figure put his hands over his ears amidst the shouts and adopted a very miserable look on his face. The girl smirked and the ball clouded up once more, but directly after it, silver lettering flashed through the inside of it. Draco peered closer to read it out, and he snorted when he did: 'Wishing You a Happy Christmas, Free of That' it said. The ball clouded up once more.

"Originally it was supposed to activate automatically every half-hour, but I thought that might get a bit annoying so I got the button installed on it."

Draco didn't say anything.

"It's really just supposed to be a reminder for you to behave yourself over the holiday. Know that if you come back acting like a git, you'll get just what you saw in there," Ginny prattled on.

The blond smiled a little at that. "Okay," he said.

Ginny smiled back, feeling a relieved. Draco then touched her arm lightly. "It's your turn to wait, now." He went into the deepest part of his cloak and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in translucent paper. With a curious look Ginny took it from him. When she did, her mouth fell open.

"You didn't buy this!" she accused.

Draco half glared. "No, I just stole it from a very expensive store and they let me walk out with it. Now I'm giving it to you, rather than pawning it off and getting actual money for it."

Ginny realized what she said and laughed. "Er, right. I just, wow…"

She held the scarf up and rubbed it gently with her face to test the texture. Draco smirked inwardly. He knew she would like it…Well, sort of. At the time he bought it he was worried that she would chuck it back at him and declare him a cheap bastard for buying a stupid scarf. But when he saw her outside Gladrags with the Gryff, Dean Thomas, shivering a bit, he knew that it was something she needed at the very least. It didn't hurt that it was from a Geesh, either. The animal was half-sheep, half-unicorn, and one of the ugliest creatures alive in Draco's opinion; but its pelt was worth galleons.

He was very pleased with himself indeed.

When Ginny brought the scarf away from her face, her eyebrows were bushy and he grinned, amused. Raising a hand to her face he proceeded to make them lie flat with his fingers. Ginny went very still.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoothing them out; I can't stand to look at them the way they were before," he murmured, keeping his gaze strictly above Ginny's eyes. When he finished he let his hand fall. "It's better – still hopeless, but less scary."

The redhead laughed. "True. I had been hoping that I would get new eyebrows from Father Christmas, but all he sent me was this dumb scarf."

The seventh-year raised his own brows and reached for it. "I'll just be taking it back then."

Ginny stepped back, smirking. "Not on your life."

Draco shook his head and stared at the redhead. "Hopeless, indeed." They both fell silent and he watched as Ginny shuffled her feet idly in the all-too tranquil silence of the hall. "Try it on," he said abruptly.

Ginny's forehead scrunched up in question; she held up her gift.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, the scarf."

The redhead stuck her tongue out at him but followed directions. Her eyes shone when Draco took a small step back as her elbow came close to clipping him on the nose as she wrapped it around her neck. When she finished, Ginny grinned up at him.

"So?"

Draco stared at Ginny. She looked…she looked… for lack of a better word she looked unbelievably…cute. Her neck had all but disappeared under the thick wool, and the creamy off white set off her flaming hair and fair skin to perfection. Her eyes were dark but cheery and her lips were quirked up in a smile at him.

"I…I have good taste," he said finally.

Ginny tilted her head from side to side. "I actually have to agree – I didn't think that wool could be so soft." She held up the end for him to feel and he took it, although he already knew how soft it was – he bought it after all.

"My mother likes this material. It's the best, you know."

Ginny laughed. "Snob."

He shrugged and took his hand away. "But, thanks all the same," she said. "Really." She looked at him carefully and then to Draco's eternal surprise, reached up to put her arms around his neck and held him close. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

Draco swallowed. "It's alright; the money is part of my large allowance – I've got plenty left."

She laughed and Draco closed his eyes for a second to concentrate on the feel of her body vibrating against him. After a moment Ginny faced him fully.

"Close your eyes," she told him.

Draco brought his arms around Ginny's waist. "Why?"

"Because I said so," said Ginny quietly.

Draco stared at her, and then when he saw that she wasn't going anywhere until he did, he listened to her directions. He was glad he did.

Ginny tentatively kissed his lower lip, and then his upper, and then kissed him fully on the mouth. Draco lowered his head so that she wouldn't have to reach as high and held Ginny securely to him. He could feel her eyelashes brushing his face, and the warm scarf plush against his skin. He felt her hands tiptoe into his hair and pull his head down to deepen the kiss. But when he opened his mouth and nudged Ginny's lips apart she broke away from him, breathing heavily.

"What…what was that for?" he asked, confused.

Ginny's flushed and pointed up. Draco lifted his eyes to the ceiling and then looked back down.

"You did that just because…just because there was…nothing there?"

The redhead made a face and then looked up quickly to where she had pointed and then cursed herself mentally; she felt unbelievably stupid. In all of the stories she had heard of people getting Christmas kisses, there was always mistletoe, always.

It was just there – even if you didn't know it. When Cho kissed Harry, there was mistletoe just hovering above them – he hadn't even seen it until the fecking girl thrust her wet face onto his! It was as if the mistletoe sensed that people wanted to kiss, and decided to make it easier on them. But now when all Ginny wanted was one goddamned sprig of that accursed leaf, it wasn't there.

It should have been there! Just hanging! And when she pointed up, he could have seen it and understood that she didn't kiss him because she was dying to…but because she was obligated to by the Law of the Mistletoe.

It was a straightforward plan! Now she had to search the whole bloody hall and pray that there was one somewhere, not too far down.

'Next time, stupid,' she told herself, 'check for the freaking thing first, then kiss…not that there would be a next time…' She had broken away because it was only supposed to be a simple kiss. Just to test the waters…see if she really, truly wanted to…and now she had let loose a freaking tempest.

Draco watched with semi-amusement as Ginny seemed to look up and down the hall for a moment. She released a low breath and then pointed instead to a nearby empty classroom's doorway. There was mistletoe hanging mockingly in front of the window.

Ginny looked at Draco. "Just a slight, er, miscalculation."

Although it still didn't make much sense to the blond, he nodded anyway. He supposed that all Gryffindor followed the mistletoe rule, and ignored the small feeling of disappointment when he had thought that she did it because…well because she wanted to. But that was a stupid thought anyway. It deserved to be shunned.

Before another awkward silence could settle over the pair Draco decided to take his leave. The moment was gone, it would never be recovered, and he had better cut his losses. He extracted himself from Ginny's warmth and nearly faltered when her brown eyes watched him go with something that looked like regret.

He supposed that she was thinking they shouldn't have done it. Sometimes things that felt right really weren't at all. It was obvious that she was thinking along those lines, so who was he to want more?

Draco patted his robes' pocket to make sure Ginny's present was still there and with a lopsided smile turned on his heel, though leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Happy Christmas and all that, Weasel," he called in an easy tone. When he was far enough so that she couldn't see, he took her gift out and pushed the button twice and watched the animation play out.

Ginny swallowed and watched his tall figure sweep away from her down the hall. "Right back at you," she replied, not quite knowing if he heard.

The ending was kind of melancholy, but it'll lighten up soon. That was a sweet kiss, but there is more than that on the way! At least that bit is out of the way, though.

And here are the:

Replies: Dweeb Yeah, the Snap thing is made up, but you can definitely use the style. I really wish I knew how they actually played, but oh well. Thanks for the review! toastsnatcher Yup, Ginny likes him too. I had realized that it seemed a bit one-sided, and so I hope this chapter cleared that up even more. Wooh! Thank you for reviewing! xxbabysparklesxx Thank youuuu! FickleFickleMuse You're certainly welcome. When are you going to update??!! Calling yourself Moirae wouldn't have been understood by everyone (I don't think I would have, at least), but it's interesting. I'm sure you would've been asked about it. Thanks for reviewing! coldflamez Thanks! Luna Gypsy I know, I wish he were real; even if he were mean I'm sure that I could…cough… straighten him out…Thanks for reviewing! pamie884 There is MUCH, MUCH more to come, I promise. Muahaha, I have the "action" scene written out already, I just need to fill the actual chapter out. I'm so excited…Thanks for reviewing! thefutureMrs.Kaiba Thank you so much! seekerpeeker Thank you very, very much for the review. I loved it. It was great hearing which parts you liked and suggestions that you had. And I promise that Ginny will not end up pregnant! Please cyber-impale me or something if I do, although I have read "In the Way of Fools" by Sasori, and thought that pregnant Ginny was hilarious. Thanks again so much for the review! MoonlightPrincess Here it is!

Once again, I must give a general thank you to all reviewers for comments and suggestions. I really do listen to them, and all of them have been exceedingly helpful. Until next time!

- Femme