A/N: This was written long ago for Sharlene. Just a piece of D/G snarky fluff :)

Disclaimer: Insert witty disclaimer here about lack of ferret possession.

~*~

The fact that Hermione and Harry were both over at the Burrow for Christmas, and that all assorted Weasleys were home-- did not make for as much fun as she would have thought.

For one thing, Ron was whining.

Not that this was particularly unusual, mind, but the fact that Ron's conversation consisted now almost exclusively of muttered babblings about nerdslut older brothers, sodding Arithmancy texts and Hermione was rather tiresome after the initial amusement. Ginny rather thought that Ron, if he would so kindly pull his head out of some orifice which shall not be named, would do much better to utilise his time in entertaining his friend, and not growling about her until she refused to speak to him. But Ron obviously didn't share this belief, and incited a few rather unpleasant hissed arguments full of arm-flailing on his part, followed by extensive pouting.

Pouting Weasleys on the holidays made life in general not very fun.

Percy was ever oblivious to Ron's seething, merely thankful that he had found a kindred spirit to talk to at length about Calcular studies, and Hermione was, in typical Hermione fashion, getting into a nice-sized tizzy about her upcoming NEWTs. Ginny stayed close to Bill and his French fiancee when she WAS in the house, avoided both her mother and the people at odds, and generally wished that she were back at school.

None of them knew what she was missing, of course.

When Great-Aunt Ingvild from Norway sent mum a new crystal finger bowl for Christmas, Ginny volunteered to take care of Brunhilde, the temperamental owl which had flown the present over. It was, of course, nothing wrong for her to use the fairly unrecognizable bird to send out a holiday greeting of her own.

On New Year's Eve, as Molly cooked a feast of such proportions that the plates had to be lightened so as not to damage the table from the weight, Great-Aunt Ingvild's owl returned from the journey with a note.

"11:59 air."


~*~

The Weasleys stayed up on New Year's Eve, laughing and talking in the living room as Molly bustled about, casting spells to clean up the table and kitchen. Fred and George were both saucily flirting with Bill's fiancee, and Charlie was discussing Quidditch with Harry, interrupted once in a while by Arthur's interjections relating said sport to some fascinating Muggle games that he'd heard of from some coworker or another. Ron had cornered Percy and challenged him to a game of chess, a sort of trial by combat for exclusive rights to Hermione's attention, and the game was currently at a stalemate.

No one really noticed Ginny, warm in her new white jumper and a gray woolen cloak, slip out into the snowy evening towards the big tree in the back.

~*~

It was slightly windy that night, and no one was looking outside. But the sturdy tree-house that all the children (even Percy when no one was looking) used to climb into, was lit with a lantern and warmed with a spell, and the small figure sitting inside smiled when there came the sound of rushing air and then boots hitting the wooden plank that was the entrance. A slim hand, wearing a silver serpent ring, pulled back the door, and slowly a blond figure, hair first, appeared from underneath an invisibility cloak, a broomstick in his hand.

"Cozy house you have here, Weaslette," he drawled, looking at the tiny space, "Where are the others hiding? I'd expected an ambush."

She glared at him, "This is my TREE house, not my home. And I'm alone here."

Thin lips curved into a smirk. "Oh, and what is innocent little Virginia doing here, all by her lonesome on New Year's Eve, when she COULD be in the bosom of her loving orange-haired family?"

"Waiting for a certain abominable ferret to give her her Christmas present," she smirked back at him, standing up, hair fiery in the low light of the lantern.

He chuckled and stepped forward towards her the same moment that she launched herself into his arms.

~*~

It was only after the New Year had started that the door to the house opened, and two figures stepped outside.

"Ginny?" Bill's voice called out from the middle of the yard. "Are you out here?"

In the treehouse someone stirred, and Ginny's voice, slightly muffled, called out, "I'm out here."

"What are you doing out here?" Bill asked, closer now, and the curse breaker could swear that he heard rustling, then something crashing and a muffled swear.

"I... just wanted to come outside, I guess," Ginny's voice came again, her mussed head poking out of the treehouse window. "I mean, we hardly use this treehouse any more..."

Next to Bill, Fleur had her wand out, and suddenly she pulled on her fiance's arm. The two exchanged a few words, and then Bill spoke again.

"Well, come inside soon, all right? We're going to bed, love."

Ginny called out her assent and watched as the two vanished back into the house, Fleur giving a merry sort of wave before she followed Bill inside. She shut the window, turning towards a very naked Draco, half-covered by his invisibility cloak, scowling as he started sitting up.

"Well merry fucking New Year's, Weaslette," he said, rubbing his sore bum, "Thanks for shoving me."

"At least you didn't sit on the lantern," she grinned cheekily, "Now, where were we?"

"On round two of one-on-one naughty Quidditch," he replied with a leer.

"One more, and I'll have to go back, as will you."

"Yes, yes, so let's get on with it..."

She gave a slightly breathless giggle as he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back to the floor.