A huge Christmas tree stood in the Great Hall, glowing orbs of light and other bobbles and trinkets hanging from the branches. The Hall was abuzz with holiday chatter, and the Gryffindor table was no exception. Ginny sat next to Harry and Hermione, Ron across from them.
"Do you think Malfoy'll take you anywhere for Christmas?" Harry asked. Hermione leaned in, eager to hear Ginny's reply.
"I don't know. We've only been out once," she said, stirring her cereal around absently. "Whenever we see each other in the hallway, it's, I don't know, akward. I never know what to say to him." She craned her neck to the right, looking past Ron at the Slytherin table. Draco looked up at her and smirked in his trade-marked way, and she blushed, looking down quickly.
"Ginny, go ask him if he's staying for the holidays," Hermione urged.
"If he's staying, I am taking Ginny far away from here," Ron grumbled, still not quite awake.
"Oh, come off it, Ron. Anyway, we've got Quidditch practice," Harry said, standing up and pulling Ron out of his chair by the sleeve of his robes. Ron, still mumbling to himself, stuck his tongue out in Malfoy's direction and followed Harry.
"Honestly, he's so immature," Hermione huffed. "Go ask Malfoy if he's staying!" she added excitedly, giving Ginny a little push. Ginny got up and slowly forced her way to the Slytherin table, looking back at Hermione a few times nervously. She reached the table and stood behind Draco, wringing her hands. Crabbe, who was sitting across from him, leaned in and sneered,
"There's your little red-headed Gryffindor."
Ginny gasped and Draco turned around, smiling. Crabbe laughed, but Draco shot him a look.
"I was wondering if you were staying here for the holidays," she said in a very small voice, fidgeting her fingers. Draco glanced at Crabbe, who was sniggering into his pumpkin juice, and stood up, the ends of his green robes trailing on the bench.
"Do you want me to stay?" He loved the power he had over her, the way he made her nervous.
"Yes," she whispered, before she could stop herself. Draco smirked at her.
"So I assume you're staying, then?" She nodded. "Then we've got a date." His voice was low and husky. "For the entire holiday."
Ginny smiled at him weakly, nodding. She stood there for a moment, then walked back to her own table, a blush rising on her cheeks.
"What happened? What happened?" Hermione squeaked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "What did he say?"
Ginny told Hermione what had happened, and her friend's eyes grew wider and wider until Ginny thought they would burst.
"Do you think he'll ask you to the ball?" Hermione squealed.
"Why, Granger, how nice of you to read my mind," came the soft, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Both girls whirled around, Ginny redder than Ron could ever be. Hermione's face melted into a huge grin, and Ginny thought the girl would float away with happiness. She made an odd noise, somewhere between a squeal and a gasp, and walked away, leaving her books behind. Ginny turned back to Draco, who was laughing quietly.
"Is she always that bloody happy?" he asked, his voice lazy as he traced the table top idly with his fingers. He was making her squirm, he knew, and he couldn't help but draw it out a little longer.
"Yes. You should see her around Ron and Harry. She can't make up her mind which one she really likes." It took everything she had to keep her voice from shaking.
"Do you know who you like?" he asked, his tone still lazy, but with a bit of an edge. Ginny almost groaned in disdain at the question.
"Draco, I..." She was at a complete loss for words. She looked at the floor, wishing she could be swallowed up by it.
"I know who I like," he whispered, moving her hair back behind her ears. She let in a sharp breath, feeling like her knees would give in.
"Go to the ball with me, Ginny," he breathed, bent down so his mouth was right against her ear.
"Ok," was all she could get out. He straightened up, smiling at her in that way of his. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, never taking his eyes off hers. She could have sworn she was dead and in Heaven; her heart felt as if it had stopped beating. He winked at her and turned away, walking back to the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to have seen everything, patted him on the back.
Ginny watched him for a moment: his tall, lean body; the way his robes swished like a forbidden kiss when he walked; the way she imagined his lips would taste, bitter but sweet; his light grey eyes that changed with his emotions; the way his lips curved into a taunting, almost malicious smirk. She had to force her legs to move, remembering to pick up Hermione's books on the way out. She walked through the hallway, occasionally looking out the windows, watching students load trunks onto the train, which would leave the next morning, after the ball. All the nervousness was slowly leaving her body, making her shake with relief.
She was still at one of the windows when Harry and Ron trudged in the doors, snow on their boots and robes. Ron looked both mad and flustered, and Harry just looked exhausted.
"I don't care," Ron was saying, "she cannot have anything to do with that slimy git." Harry shook his head, and, seeing her, dragged Ron over to the window.
"Ron, I won't be able to help you with your Potions homework tonight," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling.
"Why not?" Ron groaned. He looked at Harry, a disgusted look on his face. Harry just smiled.
"Because I'm going to the ball." She added, "With Draco Malfoy," before he could ask.
Ron turmed a very putrid shade of green. "Bloody hell, I think I'm going to be sick!" he exclaimed, running down the hallway. Harry shook his head, looked at her apologetically, and ran after him. Ginny laughed despite herself and continued her walk to Gryffindor Tower.
"Do you think Malfoy'll take you anywhere for Christmas?" Harry asked. Hermione leaned in, eager to hear Ginny's reply.
"I don't know. We've only been out once," she said, stirring her cereal around absently. "Whenever we see each other in the hallway, it's, I don't know, akward. I never know what to say to him." She craned her neck to the right, looking past Ron at the Slytherin table. Draco looked up at her and smirked in his trade-marked way, and she blushed, looking down quickly.
"Ginny, go ask him if he's staying for the holidays," Hermione urged.
"If he's staying, I am taking Ginny far away from here," Ron grumbled, still not quite awake.
"Oh, come off it, Ron. Anyway, we've got Quidditch practice," Harry said, standing up and pulling Ron out of his chair by the sleeve of his robes. Ron, still mumbling to himself, stuck his tongue out in Malfoy's direction and followed Harry.
"Honestly, he's so immature," Hermione huffed. "Go ask Malfoy if he's staying!" she added excitedly, giving Ginny a little push. Ginny got up and slowly forced her way to the Slytherin table, looking back at Hermione a few times nervously. She reached the table and stood behind Draco, wringing her hands. Crabbe, who was sitting across from him, leaned in and sneered,
"There's your little red-headed Gryffindor."
Ginny gasped and Draco turned around, smiling. Crabbe laughed, but Draco shot him a look.
"I was wondering if you were staying here for the holidays," she said in a very small voice, fidgeting her fingers. Draco glanced at Crabbe, who was sniggering into his pumpkin juice, and stood up, the ends of his green robes trailing on the bench.
"Do you want me to stay?" He loved the power he had over her, the way he made her nervous.
"Yes," she whispered, before she could stop herself. Draco smirked at her.
"So I assume you're staying, then?" She nodded. "Then we've got a date." His voice was low and husky. "For the entire holiday."
Ginny smiled at him weakly, nodding. She stood there for a moment, then walked back to her own table, a blush rising on her cheeks.
"What happened? What happened?" Hermione squeaked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "What did he say?"
Ginny told Hermione what had happened, and her friend's eyes grew wider and wider until Ginny thought they would burst.
"Do you think he'll ask you to the ball?" Hermione squealed.
"Why, Granger, how nice of you to read my mind," came the soft, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Both girls whirled around, Ginny redder than Ron could ever be. Hermione's face melted into a huge grin, and Ginny thought the girl would float away with happiness. She made an odd noise, somewhere between a squeal and a gasp, and walked away, leaving her books behind. Ginny turned back to Draco, who was laughing quietly.
"Is she always that bloody happy?" he asked, his voice lazy as he traced the table top idly with his fingers. He was making her squirm, he knew, and he couldn't help but draw it out a little longer.
"Yes. You should see her around Ron and Harry. She can't make up her mind which one she really likes." It took everything she had to keep her voice from shaking.
"Do you know who you like?" he asked, his tone still lazy, but with a bit of an edge. Ginny almost groaned in disdain at the question.
"Draco, I..." She was at a complete loss for words. She looked at the floor, wishing she could be swallowed up by it.
"I know who I like," he whispered, moving her hair back behind her ears. She let in a sharp breath, feeling like her knees would give in.
"Go to the ball with me, Ginny," he breathed, bent down so his mouth was right against her ear.
"Ok," was all she could get out. He straightened up, smiling at her in that way of his. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, never taking his eyes off hers. She could have sworn she was dead and in Heaven; her heart felt as if it had stopped beating. He winked at her and turned away, walking back to the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to have seen everything, patted him on the back.
Ginny watched him for a moment: his tall, lean body; the way his robes swished like a forbidden kiss when he walked; the way she imagined his lips would taste, bitter but sweet; his light grey eyes that changed with his emotions; the way his lips curved into a taunting, almost malicious smirk. She had to force her legs to move, remembering to pick up Hermione's books on the way out. She walked through the hallway, occasionally looking out the windows, watching students load trunks onto the train, which would leave the next morning, after the ball. All the nervousness was slowly leaving her body, making her shake with relief.
She was still at one of the windows when Harry and Ron trudged in the doors, snow on their boots and robes. Ron looked both mad and flustered, and Harry just looked exhausted.
"I don't care," Ron was saying, "she cannot have anything to do with that slimy git." Harry shook his head, and, seeing her, dragged Ron over to the window.
"Ron, I won't be able to help you with your Potions homework tonight," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling.
"Why not?" Ron groaned. He looked at Harry, a disgusted look on his face. Harry just smiled.
"Because I'm going to the ball." She added, "With Draco Malfoy," before he could ask.
Ron turmed a very putrid shade of green. "Bloody hell, I think I'm going to be sick!" he exclaimed, running down the hallway. Harry shook his head, looked at her apologetically, and ran after him. Ginny laughed despite herself and continued her walk to Gryffindor Tower.
To Be Continued.
Mirabila Malfoy is the author of 2 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked Right Here Waiting also liked 380 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 2 members. Members who liked Right Here Waiting also liked 380 other stories.
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