A/N: Merry Christmas! This last prompt was "It's Christmas Eve and you're not here..." Enjoy!
Ginny groans and stretches in the locker room. The team has just finished a brutal practice, made harsher by the cold winds of Scotland. The Harpies are a part of a Christmas exhibition, and while Ginny had been thrilled to find out the team had been selected, today, on the 24th of December, all she wants is to be at the Burrow snuggled up with Harry.
Harry. As she packs up her bag, she recalls giving him the Harpies' Christmas itinerary. He had whooped and hugged her when she had told him the team had made the exhibition, squeezing her tightly even as she explained that it meant she wouldn't be home for Christmas.
"I'm so proud of you!" he'd exclaimed, kissing her cheek.
"But Harry," she'd protested, sliding her hands to his chest so she could look at him. "It's Christmas!"
"Yes, and it's Quidditch, which are your two favorite things in the world," he'd laughed and pulled her back to him.
"Well," she had said slyly, "you're forgetting one other favorite," and then they had not talked any more.
Today, however, Ginny wishes they had talked a bit more. She wishes she had told him how Christmas didn't really feel like Christmas without him, and that even more than two years after Riddle's defeat, being separated from Harry at Christmas reminds her of that awful Christmas during her Sixth Year when Harry was on the run. She shudders at the memory of that near-silent Christmas, with just her parents and the twins at home.
Ginny checks her locker one last time, then shuts it and shoulders her bag. The hotel is just across the street from the practice stadium, but she buttons her coat as she heads out the door; the Scottish winds are not kind to her warm muscles or hot skin. She shivers as she checks the street, crossing it quickly and hurrying up the steps to the hotel door.
Inside, she smiles at the concierge as she makes her way across the lobby to the elevator. Christmas music plays softly in the background, and Ginny tries humming along, but finds that her throat is suddenly too tight. She coughs a little, trying to dislodge the lump, and her chest aches with missing her family.
The elevator is speedy, thankfully, and Ginny grapples for her room key as she heads down the hall. It is a small hotel, and there are no other guests in sight as Ginny unlocks her door, slips into her room, and drops her bag. The door thuds shut behind her, and she rests her head against it for a moment. She takes a deep breath, willing herself to cheer up and not mope. It will be Christmas in just a few hours and she is determined not to start it off by moping.
A shower will help change her mood, she decides, and heads towards the bathroom. The water does clear her head a bit, and Ginny emerges twenty minutes later feeling calm, if not a bit resigned. She knew what she was getting into when she joined the team, she reminds herself, and it does no good to either her or the team if she spends the evening missing her boyfriend.
The hotel elves have placed dinner on the suite's coffee table, keeping it warm with a heating charm. Ginny plops down on the sofa and picks up her fork. Not as good as her mum's cooking, but really, does anything else compare?
Ginny sighs and forces herself to eat. She waves her wand at the wireless, and Celestina Warbeck's "Cauldron of Hot, Hot Love" turns on. An ache rises up in Ginny so strongly that she can barely swallow. She has never been this homesick before, but the combination of distance and Christmas must be amplifying her loneliness.
The fireplace suddenly flares to life, and Ginny jumps.
"Miss Weasley?" comes a voice from the flames. "You have a guest, a Mr. Potter? Shall I send him through?"
Ginny gasps, then quickly finds her voice. "Yes, please," she calls, a bit shakily. She grabs a napkin off the table and wipes hastily at her mouth, grateful that she put on pajamas instead of remaining in her bathrobe.
The fireplace flares again, tall green flames licking towards the mantle, and Harry emerges, the collar of his coat turned up, a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, and a ushanka hat on his head. He grins at her. "Hi, Gin," he starts, but gets no further as Ginny leaps over the couch and throws her arms around him.
She ignores the chill that still clings to his coat and hugs him tightly. Harry hugs her back just as tightly, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.
"What are you doing here?" she finally asks, pulling back from him just a bit.
"Surprising you," Harry chuckles. Ginny rolls her eyes and pinches his side.
"Really," she pushes. "How? Why? What's going on?"
"I know how much you love being together at Christmas, so I thought I'd come be with you," Harry answers, grinning at her. He releases her and reaches to untie his scarf, but before he gets the knot untied, Ginny is grabbing him by his hat's ear flaps and pulling his face down to hers.
"Thank you," she whispers, and then she kisses him.
Harry smiles against her lips. "Happy Christmas, Gin."