Christmas with the Malfoys - 9

"Harry, what were you thinking when you said there were worse things than no presents?" she asked.

Harry shrugged, not certain where she was headed and really wanting to get back to the kissing.

"Just that I never had presents for Christmas before coming to Hogwarts, and it never really mattered all that much. I learned at a fairly young age not to expect them. What was worse

was knowing there was no one to give them. D'you know what I mean?" he asked, feeling that old, familiar melancholy beginning to seep back into his thoughts.

"I think I do," Ginny said sadly, running her fingers through his hair.

"I mean, here, Malfoy might not have access to all his money, but his mum is here, and Pansy and her family, too. He's not alone," Harry said, trying to put his thoughts into words.

Ginny watched him quietly, her fingers continuing to play with his hair. It was soothing; her presence always made him feel better.

"That mistletoe hasn't run away yet, but we'd best make use of it before it finds another target," Ginny said, looking up at the ceiling.

Harry leaned in again and wrapped Ginny in his arms. He'd no sooner begun to deepen the kiss when the mistletoe began bellowing in a high-pitched shriek: "Snogging! There's snogging going on here! This is a snogging alert, all persons engaged in snogging please keep your lips to yourself."

Harry's face turned scarlet as laughter erupted from the drawing room.

"Get on in here, Harry and Ginny," Fred shouted.

"We all know what you're doing down there, anyway," George said.

"One of these days, I'm going to strangle those two," Harry muttered, leaning his forehead against Ginny's.

"One of these days," Ginny said, sighing, "I'm going to help you do it. I think we could take them if we do it together."

Harry grinned against her forehead. "It's a plan, then."

"Oh, Harrikins, Gin Gin," George shouted, poking his head out the drawing room door. "We're all waiting."

"Harry, you're coloring is perfect for this festive occasion. However did you manage that shade? We'll have to bottle it and sell it for the holidays," Fred said, taking the mickey out of Harry.

"Eau de Mortification," George said.

"Does Ginny always have this effect on you, mate? Perhaps you should look into it. See a Healer, maybe. Does that color affect your entirebody?" Fred asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Abashed, Harry kept his eyes fixed firmly on his feet, preferring to face Voldemort than look at either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley at that moment.

"Leave him alone," Ginny snapped, cuffing each of her brother's on the side of the head. She lowered her voice so only Fred, George, and Harry could hear her. "Or I'll give you a description of the exact effects on his body in minute detail."

"Oi, Ginny. That's not funny," George said, scowling.

"What's happened to you, squirt? You've lost your sense of humor," Fred said, aiming a withering look in Harry's direction.

Ginny took Harry's hand and led him away from the far less-exuberant twins. "One of these days," Harry said, "you're going to push them too far and get me beat up by the whole lot of your brothers. And I haven't even really done anything yet."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Ginny said, batting her lashes.

"My hero," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Besides, by then maybe you really will have done something worthy of getting beaten up over," she said, giggling as he choked on his drink.