Swept Away

Title: Swept Away

Author: Duckchick

Rating: PG

Summary: It's Christmas Eve morning, and Ginny is enjoying some time alone. That is, until Draco shows up to ruin her solitude. When his insults go too far, Ginny decides to give him a flying lesson he'll never forget!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Email: duckchick@charter.net

Spoilers: Everything through GoF

Category/Genre: Romance

Pairings: Draco/Ginny

Warnings: Lots of fluff!

Author’s Note: The fact that this story takes place on Christmas Eve morning is the only thing Christmas-y about it. I had wanted to write something wonderful and warm, but my stories tend to write themselves, and this is what came out. I hope you enjoy it! Please read and review! Also, there’s a picture I found that inspired my description of Ginny’s outfit in this scene. It’s by Archica, and you can view more of her HP art at http://clinically-cynical.com/magicalscribbles/

More of her anime art can be found at http://clinically-cynical.com/

Ginny Weasley walked along the shore of the lake and blew into her hands. The Christmas Eve morning was cold and brisk, and snow was beginning to fall. She’d awoke at dawn, surprisingly, and had impulsively decided to take a walk onto the grounds. She was glad she did, as the peace and stillness worked a calming and melancholy magic on her soul.

She tugged up at her leg warmers. Another impulsive decision had been to throw on her short pink skirt and gray sweater. Not too bright of her, considering the state of the weather, but it was one of Ginny’s favorite outfits. Never mind that they were old and threadbare. Her hand shot out to catch her pink knit beret as it attempted to fly off of her head with a particularly strong gush of wind. It was also old, but it matched her skirt, and it was one of the few really cute outfits she owned.

Ginny smiled as she walked, looking around at the bare trees and leaden sky. The only sound was that of the wind blowing around her, and the soft splashing from the lake as the giant squid lazily skimmed the surface. It was nice to have a few moments alone. Having come from a big family, solitude was something she had barely known. She had been fortunate in having had her own room, if you could call it a room, but she had almost never been alone. Closing her eyes, she allowed the relative silence to seep into her soul, feeling a quickening of her pulse and tightness in her chest at the beauty of the feeling. Not a soul disturbed the peace, and even the falling snow served as a silencer, muffling her own steps.

But it was also freezing. Ginny found that her fingers, legs, and ears were beginning to hurt, so she turned her steps back towards the castle, anticipating a mug of hot cocoa. Another strong gust of wind made her quicken her steps as she felt the very moisture of her skin being leeched out by the chapping weather. As she began to trot, she wondered if Harry or Ron was awake. Hermione would most likely be, as she’d mentioned needing extra studying time for Ancient Runes. Knowing ‘Mione, that meant she’d spend the whole day with her head in the text book! The image made Ginny laugh. They were accepting her, finally. Letting her sit with them at meal times and including her in almost everything they did, including Hogsmeade visits. It thrilled Ginny to finally be seen as a bit more than Ron’s little sister by them, though that attitude hadn’t completely disappeared. It might never disappear, she thought glumly. And as long as Harry continued to see her that way, he’d never love her the way she loved him.

Ginny’s smile disappeared, replaced by a sigh. Harry and Cho had just broken up, and Ginny really felt badly for them both. Harry had spent the last week walking around tight lipped and irritable, refusing to talk about it to anyone except Ron. Ginny had seen Cho come out of the bathroom several times with red eyes, and when Cho saw Harry her expression seemed caught between sadness and fury. Obviously this had been painful to both, but Ginny didn’t actually know what caused it, though she suspected Harry’s tendency to lock himself away from others might have had something to do with it. He had affection aplenty for those he loved, and he’d freely given his heart to Cho. But his secrets, his dreams and nightmares, were things he kept to himself. Ginny was sure he thought no one else could handle those parts of him. He would never be able to make a relationship work until he could trust others to know him completely. Ron did, as did Hermione, and they were flashing neon signs to the fact that it was possible to open himself up and not be hurt. But Harry only wanted others to be happy, and saw his inner demons as deterents to contentment.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of these sad thoughts. It was Christmas Eve, a time to be thankful for everyone you loved and cared about. Harry would be alright, and so would Cho. It would just take a little Christmas cheer and cider. Cider! Just thinking of the warm drink made her long for it. She was quite chilly, and in need of something to toast her back to normal. She smiled once more as she looked at the entrance of the school. The doors were wrapped in boughs of evergreen pine, and the falling snow gave it an added festive touch. Inside there were the never melting ice sculptures of snowflakes floating through the Great Hall, warm snow falling, and the twelve trees decorated in fairy lights and tinsel. Her particular favorite had multi-coloured fairy lights and silver tinsel paired with glowing glass ornaments of blue, red, and green, and a real fairy sitting atop it. Ginny loved staring at that one because it reminded her of the Christmas tree at home.

She was lost in thought, and consequently didn’t hear the broom flying above her. It wasn’t until a snowball fell onto her head from above, causing her to scream in fright and the sudden shock of cold, that she knew she wasn’t alone. Angrily brushing the snow off of her, she looked up to see a grinning Draco Malfoy regarding her.

“Morning Weasley,” he drawled, “A bit cold for you to be walking about in that outfit isn’t it?”

“Bastard!” She yelled, grabbing her beret from the ground, ”So you decide to make it worse by throwing snow on me?”

“Well, you seem to be enjoying the weather dressed like that.” He laughed, “I just thought I’d bring it home to you in a more personal way!”

She glared up at her most hated enemy, refusing to acknowledge the beauty of his face as his cheeks grew red from the wind, contrasting to his pale hair and storm gray eyes. “A more personal way? Malfoy, the only way you know how to get personal is when Pansy Parkinson is ‘servicing’ you in Filch’s broom closet!”

“How did you find—“ Draco’s eyes widened, but his expression quickly smoothed back into its natural sneer, “Jealous, Weasley? Sorry, but I don’t do Raggedy Ann dolls.”

Ginny sputtered with rage, trying desperately to think of something scathing to say. He eyed her legs again, “You know, I might be able to talk myself into an exception for you.”

“Go to hell!” she screamed and began marching back towards the castle. Draco watched her go with a malicious grin. Score one for Malfoy, he thought gleefully. But why let her get away? She was definitely a fun target, and he was enjoying the morning immensely in spite of the fact that flying in this weather usually turned him into a living ice cube. Rocking forward on his broom, he shot after her.

“Going to tell Ronnikins on me?” he hooted when he was directly above her again.

“Be careful, Malfoy,” she snapped, “Santa doesn’t bring presents to naughty boys!”

“What?” he yelled incredulously, bringing his broom down in front of her to block her path, “Don’t tell me you still believe that rubbish!”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Of course not, you twit! It was just an expression!”

“Of ignorance?” he sneered.

“Of my opinion of you!” she seethed.

“Oh, that really breaks my heart,” he chuckled, “You don’t want to see me cry now, do you?”

“Actually,” she sneered back, startling him, “I’d adore seeing you roasted in a pudding!”

He pursed his lips, “Don’t hold your breath, Weasley.”

“Why don’t you hold yours?” she asked sweetly, right before she placed both hands on his chest and shoved hard. Draco flew off the broom and landed in the snow. The shock of the cold snow on his already half frozen body made him cry out. He sat up so quickly his head spun, causing him to sputter and sway as he tried to regain his bearings. Blinking quickly, he looked over at Ginny—

--Just in time to see her hop on his broom and fly off.

“Hey!” he shouted, standing up and racing after her. It was no use, she was flying over the lake now and doing rapid mid-air rolls. He stood staring at her, mouth open and eyes wide with incredulity. The stupid tart had stolen his broom!

Ginny, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. Oh sure, she was rapidly turning into a human icicle, but the thrill of flying Malfoy’s Nimbus more than made up for her discomfort. The broom raced around with the slightest shifting of her body, and the smoothness of the ride made it exciting. She suddenly wanted to play Quidditch. She took the broom into a vertical climb, relishing the feel of leaving the world behind her. Then, when the lake was a puddle beneath her, she dropped into a spectacular dive, aiming right for the north end of the lake. Which was where Malfoy should be.

Faster and faster she went, tears streaming from her eyes and freezing against her temples and hairline. Her legs grew numb, and her hands stopped tingling. She was pushing things, she knew, and might end up having to go to the infirmary with a severe case of frost bite. But at the moment she didn’t care. All that mattered was the rushing wind, the thrill of flight, and getting even with Malfoy. She could finally see him, a small black clad figure waving frantically at her. She grinned evilly and swooped straight for him.

Draco saw her speeding towards him and realized she was going much too fast to stop in time. He froze as she flew nearer and nearer. When she was only ten yards from the ground, and him, he let out a cry and rolled to the ground, throwing his hands over his head for protection. A split second later he heard a tremendous screech, then silence. He lay still for several seconds, wondering if Ginny had splattered all over the ground. He didn’t like that image at all, and began to tremble slightly. What should he do?

Soft laughter broke in on his fearful wonderings, and he looked up in shock. There was Ginny, her feet on the broom, but kneeling demurely and looking at him with amusement. She was alive! Draco jumped to his feet, staring at both her and his broom, amazed to find both whole and intact.

“What the hell were you doing?” he asked blankly, not knowing what else to say.

“That,” Ginny replied, “is called The Wronski Feint. I’ve noticed you can’t do it, so I thought I’d give a demonstration.”

“I’m trying to learn it!” he said defensively, more to be heard saying something than out of any real anger. He was still too shocked at what she’d done to think straight. Ginny laughed again and stood straight up on the broom. It was then he noticed her black lace up boots, which had been almost invisible against her gray leg warmers. The tops of her thighs were enticingly displayed this way. The boots kept her perfectly balanced on the brooms thin handle, and she leaned forward slightly to look him straight in the eye, a smile playing around her lips.

“Nice broom, Malfoy, thanks for letting me fly it.” She said cheerily, and without taking her eyes from his leaped to the ground in front of him, blowing him a kiss as she flounced off.

Draco stared after her, feeling numb for a few moments longer. Then a slow smile curved his lips. Looks like I will make an exception for her, he thought smugly. It wasn’t every day you met a girl like Ginny Weasley. He’d been watching her since the start of the semester, and had been impressed with how she’d blossomed over the summer. He also liked her newfound spark, so much more interesting than the little mousy fan girl who used to follow Potter around, hoping he’d notice her. Today she proved she had spirit, determination, courage, and sass. All of his doubts melted away in a moment. He’d made up his mind, she was going to be his!

Swinging his broom over his shoulder, he trotted off after her.