Office Christmas Party

A/N- My very first Christmas fic! Technically, I wrote it over the summer because the plot bunny that I had for it was nagging me until I put pencil to paper. Anyways, please read and review to let me know what you think.



Office Christmas Party


Every year it was the same routine.

The entirety of the Ministry’s Auror division held a little shindig on their own time to celebrate Father Christmas’s annual trip around the world.

It was always held within the office the day before their winter holiday started.

Someone always got drunk off of the punch that Seamus Finnigan always spiked with a healthy dosage of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky. And usually that someone was Harry Potter, who (much to his dismay and embarrassment) could not hold his liquor and (much to everyone else’s enjoyment) was a giggling drunk. It was at this point that someone (either Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini) fitted Harry in some sort of spirited costume before poor Harry collapsed inside his cubicle, blessedly asleep. This year, Harry had been outfitted as Rudolph; his red nose was no longer on his person, but floating in the punch bowl.

It was this routine that made Ginny eternally grateful.

The redundancy of the whole thing allowed her to observe events (or people) without notice. Being the youngest and the only girl in her family, she realised that she had the ability to make herself go unnoticed. More often than not, though, she rarely put this skill to good use, but she would use this time to brush up on it. The one and only time she attempted to “loosen up” at one of these parties had found her delirious on a chaise lounge in Blaise Zabini’s sitting room, wearing a rather skimpy version of a Santa suit, and muttering about wanting “more” of something. What she wanted more of, Ginny couldn’t tell you, but she had a feeling that it was rather naughty.

She found it very easy to get swept up in people watching.

Even her co-workers seemed to be wrapped up in a routine. Ginny could always rely on Ron trying to get Hermione to sneak off to a broom closet with him for a quick snog, grope, or maybe if he was an especially good boy, a little something extra. She always said yes after his sixth attempt and at least three glasses of punch. Ginny could also rely on a thoroughly sloshed Cho Chang to hit on Blaise, who would then vehemently reply that he “is not and never will be interested in a self-absorbed cow with all of the shallowness of a puddle”. And, most importantly, Ginny could always count on Draco Malfoy to hover somewhere near the small sofa directly in front of her cubicle, fending off any inebriated advances. After pulling Cho off of himself, Blaise would then waltz on over to Draco and engage him in some witty banter.

It was at this time that Ginny would focus all of her attention on the former Slytherins. Her position in between hers and Harry’s cubicles made it rather hard to catch their entire conversation, but she would catch snippets and giggle to herself anytime she heard something particularly funny.

They never noticed the redhead spying in on them; they were completely oblivious to Ginny’s voyeur-like ways. And Ginny liked it that way.

She didn’t know why she felt compelled to watch the paring. While she found them to be incredibly amusing, if she got right down to it, Ginny supposed that the main reason behind her spying was that – oh, hell. Ron was going to kill her if he found out – she had a more than mild attraction to the Great White Ferret. As in dreaming about him doing things to her that were entirely too naughty to discuss in polite conversation.

Ginny blushed at the thought. If only…

A pink tinge still gracing the apples of her cheeks, she took a sip of her punch, grimacing at the burning sensation the Firewhisky created as it slid down her throat.

After fifteen minutes of watching Draco and Blaise, Ginny’s eyes began to wander.

She could hear Harry snoring lightly in the cubicle beside her. She scanned the crowd for her brother’s ginger hair only to see that he and his bushy-haired girlfriend were long gone. Ginny sighed happily to herself. Sweet mediocrity.

She remembered one year when Ron had asked her why she enjoyed the routine their party had. Ginny’s answer was simple: “As an Auror, you never know what to expect. Constant vigilance and all that. This is the one time when I know exactly what’s going to happen next.” The look Ron proceeded to give her afterwards signified to Ginny that he worried for his sister’s sanity sometimes.

Yet she always smiled whenever she thought back to it.

She refocused her attention on Draco and Blaise to see that Draco was alone once more, and she had garnered his attention. They had made eye contact for just a brief moment before she looked away. At this, Draco took it upon himself to walk over, and in six long strides, he was next to Ginny. Her eyes widened slightly.

He broke tradition.

Ginny froze. What was she supposed to say? She was so used to the routine the Aurors had developed and figured that everyone else was too. So why had Draco deviated?

Ginny couldn’t focus in on him. Her eyes were flitting around the room, landing on anything but him - the decorations over office furniture, the snowflakes suspended in midair.

Draco must have said something to her, because she could feel her mouth moving, formulating a response, yet she was unable to register what she was saying. Oh Merlin, please let it have been something witty and charming.

The fairy lights were shimmering in a way that was a little too romantic for Ginny’s liking. The room was spinning, and Ginny wasn’t sure if it was the fact that Draco was standing in front of her, or if she had a bit too much punch.

She sensed that the party was winding down as people slowly left the office. Harry had woken up, a piece of parchment stuck to his face, smearing ink everywhere as it slowly floated back down to his desk. Ginny could hear him let out a stream of curses, causing her to giggle into her hand.

Draco must have heard Harry too for he commented on it. “What do you suppose Potter’s in a rage about now?”

“Who knows?” Ginny replied with a weak smile.

Draco looked around to the rest of the room. “Seems that everyone is going home.”

“That, or they’re off in a broom closet somewhere,” Ginny stated, blushing as she thought of all of the things she could do in a broom closet with Draco.

Her blush did not escape Draco’s notice. “Really? Who was the lucky fellow?”

“Oh, no! No. NO. I’m not talking about me; I’m just speaking in generalities.”

“Ah. Well, as I was saying before, everyone seems to have vacated the premises. I highly doubt it would be very wise for a reasonably attractive woman, such as yourself, to stand here, by herself, all night. And I also believe it would be in your best interest to have someone escort you home.”

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but ended up looking like a dead fish. She glanced at Draco in confusion, arching an eyebrow as she did so. “Are you offering to walk me home?”

Draco proceeded to launch into a series of unintelligible phrases ending with, “Who? Me? Why, Ginny, dear, it would be an honour.”

Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes at Draco’s antics.

He extended his arm, waiting for Ginny to take hold of it before he led her out the door.

“Do you always stand by your cubicle?” Draco asked once he and Ginny had left the Ministry building.

“What do you mean?”

“Every year that we’ve attended that asinine gathering (separately, of course) you’ve always stayed by your cubicle. Why is that?”

“It’s rather hard to explain,” Ginny replied with a nervous laugh.

“We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Do you remember what happened my first office Christmas party?”

“Didn’t you end up at Blaise’s manor?”

“Yeah. Let’s just stop right there. Well, after that first year, I decided to keep to myself, ensuring that I would never do something I might regret once sober. Besides, I enjoy the routine the others have developed.”

“We’ve developed a routine?” Draco asked, looking mildly amused, and (although he’d never admit it) slightly scandalized, for it was well known that Malfoys never did something as plebeian as having a routine for anything.

“Oh, sure! But it seems that you are no longer part of that routine, as you are walking me home. We’re almost there, by the way.”

Draco leaned into Ginny conspiratorially and whispered, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a big fan of rules.”

Ginny laughed at this. “Oh, boy, do I ever know. It’s a wonder Kingsley hasn’t sacked you yet with all of the rule-breaking you do to get a mission done. Now,” Ginny paused here. “Why did you deviate from the routine?”

“Because you always look so lonely, and contrary to popular belief, I believe that no one should look that lonely all of the time, especially on Christmas. I mean, do you even date?”

Ginny began spluttering as a blush slowly crept up her already rosy face. “I-I do! It-it’s just hard to find someone who’s willing to commit to a relationship knowing that I’m an Auror and there are still Dark Wizards on the loose.”

“Ah, yes; the perils of being an Auror trying to find a good shag,” Draco sighed in understanding.

“No; it’s not always about that,” Ginny replied, becoming increasingly irritated.

“I, for one, have come to the conclusion that being an Auror means that I can be completely unattached. Which is a rather novel concept when you get right down to it.”

“I think I see where this is going,” Ginny stated, happy to be in front of her building and able to get away from Draco.

As Ginny fumbled for her keys, Draco leaned in closer, the slightest hint of Firewhisky on his breath. “And where, exactly, do you think this is going?” He leaned in closer still, silencing any response or retort Ginny may have had by placing his lips on hers.

Oh, dear, sweet Merlin, how Ginny had patiently waited for this moment to happen, but now it seemed all wrong. Draco talking about being blissfully unattached had made her just the tiniest bit disconcerted, and frankly, although he knew what he was doing with that mouth and tongue of his, it seemed dirty now. And Ginny Weasley did not enjoy that feeling very much.

But, why, oh why, did it have to feel so good? Ginny would have been fine if he had the kissing experience of a twelve year-old, but, unfortunately for her, Draco was quite skilled in his abilities, turning her brain into a pile of mush, effectively halting any doubts or protests she may have had.

Her response must have been something extraordinary, because Draco wasn’t too keen on stopping anytime soon. Not that Ginny was complaining now. The way he fisted his hand into her hair, using it to angle her head better, only deepened the kiss. She clung to him for dear life, as if her very existence depended on his ministrations. He tugged on one of her curls; wrapping it around his index finger before letting it spiral out of his grasp. She sighed into his mouth, marvelling at how that simple act could provoke such a reaction from her.

Draco broke off eventually, leaving Ginny to spread a finger across her swelled, slightly pink lips.

“Wow,” was Ginny’s monosyllabic response. Very eloquent, Ginny, she thought, another blotch of red staining her cheeks.

“I might have to give up my life of bachelorhood if it means doing that at least five times a day, if not more,” Draco replied, smirking.

Ginny worried her bottom lip. There was not a snowball’s chance in hell that she’d be able to see Draco. Her family, not to mention their entire office, would inundate the pairing with questions, and speculation would be part of their everyday lives. Not that she wouldn’t mind dating him, but, well, centuries of mutual bickering and hatred were hard to overcome.

“I don’t know.”

“Look, Ginny, I’m not asking for some life-long commitment; I’m only proposing to you the idea of us having some sort of meal, perhaps dinner, together.”

Ginny giggled into her hand. “Leave it to you to turn asking me out to dinner into some formal affair.”

“Well, after a lovely snog session, I thought it proper to refrain from using less refined methods of communication. Because, let’s face it, snogging in public is the least dignified thing I can think of.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “You and your dignity. The way you used to prance around London like some trollop; I’m surprised you have any left.”

Draco outwardly laughed at Ginny’s comment. “‘Used to’? Are you implying something, Miss Weasley?”

“It’s quite possible,” she replied with an impish smile.

“So, what’ll it be?”

“Sure, why not?”

* * * * * * * *

A year later, Ginny found herself at yet another office Christmas party.

And as always, the routine was the same. Harry was long gone in his cubicle; this time he was dressed as an elf, courtesy of Blaise Zabini. Ron and Hermione had already snuck off to Hermione’s flat for a round of only god knows what. Ginny shuddered at the thought. Anything involving her brother and his girlfriend doing something even remotely sexual in nature did NOT belong in her thoughts.

Draco had just finished pulling Cho off of Blaise for what seemed like the thirteenth time; the latter man showering his friend with thanks, leaving the poor girl to her own devices in some corner to sulk. Draco came to rest about five minutes later at the small sofa near her cubicle. He motioned to Ginny, patting the seat beside him, noticing that his fiancée (he had proposed to her earlier that evening after a year of dating, snogging, and sweaty, hot sex, amongst other things) had gravitated, out of force-of-habit, toward the spot between hers and Harry’s cubicles.

She smiled and reluctantly walked over to the sofa; after all, old habits die hard.

“Will you continue to do this when we’re married? Because if you are, I’ll have to lay down some down rules.” Draco asked as Ginny sat down beside him.

“What can I say? I’m a creature of habit. You know, you could always join me by my cubicle. You wouldn’t believe how much you can learn by just standing there and watching everyone.”

Draco took Ginny’s hand and patted it. “I don’t doubt you for a moment, Gin, but, really, pretty soon people will start to take notice, much like I did, and then who knows what will happen? Wild nights out with you ending up in the Zabini foyer, Potter finally realizing what he missed all those years ago, or worse, you could wind up with a ruddy perv, like Finnigan,” Draco finished in mock seriousness.

“You had me going there for a second. But then you mentioned wild nights at Blaise’s and you completely lost me. I would’ve thought you’d have realised by now how hard it is to admonish me after a year or so of being with you.”

“It never hurts to try, though,” Draco replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I guess I’ll have to come to terms with the fact that I have thoroughly corrupted you.”

Ginny blushed at Draco’s last statement. Leave it to someone like her with a six brother (plus Draco, although not in the brotherly sense)-warped mind to take that seemingly innocent statement and make it all sorts of naughty.

“I mean, look at how many times Shacklebolt’s had to get on your arse about something or other lately,” Draco continued, completely oblivious to the thoughts running through Ginny’s head.

“Oh, right. Right. Yeah, I’ve been slacking off a bit lately; no thanks to you,” Ginny stated, back from her momentary relapse into visions of lust.

“Any chance that we could leave this asinine party sometime in the near future? Potter’s passed out, which means no fun for me or Blaise, and, well, I’m bored, frankly. I can think of much better things to do to occupy our time,” Draco said with a leer.

Ginny had to give it to Draco: he still had the capability to whine the pants off of any woman. No pun intended. Damn him and his stupid, spoiled, rich-boy upbringing. Ginny was the only one allowed to whine in this relationship, dammit. Although, that last bit did sound rather appealing; she was one-hundred percent sure he knew plenty of ways to keep them occupied.

Blushing again, she dragged him out of his seat and toward the double doors that lead out of the office.

Maybe it was time she took a cue from Ron and Hermione and start a new (and more pleasurable) tradition.



A/N- Immense thanks to Lady Laurelin and Lisa for their quick and fantabulous beta-reading skills!

Also, before I forget, the title for this fic comes from the song by a L.A. band called Los Abandoned. They have songs in English, Spanish and Spanglish! "Office Xmas Party" is in English, though, so no translation is necessary. Initially, this particular fic was supposed to be a song fic, and there are still elements of the song in this fic, but well, I didn't feel like sticking exactly to the storyline in the song, so it is a song fic no more! I still suggest that you download the song for it musically sounds very cutesy, but the lyrics are rather disheartening. The girl in the song does NOT get her guy. :(

Thanks for reading and please review! =D