A Cold Christmas Without You - H/G - PG-13
Title: A Cold Christmas Without You Author: shocfix Pairing: Harry/Ginny Words : 1050 Rating: PG-13
For harry_holidays - Harry/Ginny, set during book 7. Being apart is just too difficult, particularly during the holidays.
A Cold Christmas Without You **** Ron slammed open their bedroom door at 12 Grimmauld Place and came to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed, pushing Harry’s legs out of the way.
He glared down at his best friend.
“What?” Harry asked, sitting up and pushing his glasses up his nose.
“You are ruining my Christmas,” Ron said, shaking a finger in his face.
“How am I doing that,” Harry said indignantly. “I haven’t even come out of my room.”
“Well, exactly!” Ron huffed. “Hermione is doing my head in, worrying about you.”
“I’m just trying to keep out your way,” Harry protested. “This house is grim enough, without me bringing you down.”
“Ugh,” Ron groaned. “Look, just come down to the drawing room. You can’t make us any more miserable than we already are.”
Harry snorted. “It’s your first Christmas together,” he protested. “You don’t want me there.”
“Like Hermione will let me lay a finger on her when she’s this worried about you,” Ron pointed out. “I’ll just lie here and wallow, too, shall I?”
He flopped backwards on the bed and sighed, deeply. “Woe is me,” he said and Harry kicked him.
“Very funny,” Harry complained.
“I wish I could enjoy myself this Christmas,” Ron pouted. “I wish I had a girlfriend with beautiful pink lips. What a waste of those perky breasts, all willing and ready for me, while I wallow in misery.”
“You do know you’re talking about your sister’s breasts, right?” Harry asked him.
“Nope,” Ron said sternly. “I am talking about Hermione’s. You can wallow about whichever breasts you like, but Hermione’s are…”
“I don’t want to know,” Harry said, swiftly. “You know it gives me the creeps when you rave about Hermione like this.”
“Yup,” Ron said. “That’s why I’m doing it. She has this freckle right by her…”
“OK,” Harry said, leaping off the bed. “If I have to come down and make you both miserable just to make sure you never finish that sentence, then I’ll do it, OK?”
Ron hauled himself upright. “Comb your hair,” he said. “And change your shirt.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care how I look?” he asked.
“I just don’t want Hermione to make any more fuss over you than absolutely necessary,” Ron said, throwing up his hands. “Go down looking like that if you want.”
“Fair point,” Harry said, grasping the back of his shirt collar and pulling it off over his head.
**** They wandered down the stairs and Ron shoved Harry towards the drawing room with a hand in the small of his back.
“I’m just gonna get something to eat, d’you fancy a sandwich?” he asked, as he started down the next flight.
“Um, yeah,” Harry called over his shoulder. “Ham and oh!”
He paused in the doorway to the drawing room, his fingers running nervously over the serpentine doorknob.
It wasn’t Hermione sitting on the couch.
It was Ginny.
He heard Ron snigger behind him as he closed the door.
“Hello, Harry,” she said.
“Where’s Hermione?” he asked, looking round the room.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Not in here,” she said. “Because that would be a pathetic attempt at setting us up.”
Harry frowned. “Ron made me change my shirt,” he said stupidly and she bit her lip.
“My brother made you change? So you would make a better impression?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, you must have been driving him crazy!” she laughed.
“What?”
“Hermione came over to the Burrow, to persuade me to come and see you,” she said. “She thought you were a bit sad, what with it being Christmas, and that maybe you were missing me. But I didn’t realise you were bad enough for Ron to actually get involved in the set up.”
“Ron said my moping was worrying Hermione and that she wouldn’t let him snog her,” he said, smiling wryly. “He made me come down to sit with them – said I couldn’t make them any more miserable than they already were.”
“Were you miserable?” she asked, quietly.
He nodded.
“Me, too,” she said.
“I miss you, Gin,” he said.
“Oh, come here, you idiot,” she said, patting the couch.
He crossed and sat beside her, pulling her against him and burying his face in her hair. She smelt wonderful.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he said.
“It’s Christmas,” she said.
“I wanted you to be safe,” he whispered.
“There aren’t any Death Eaters here, Harry,” she said. “Hermione’s right – we can steal today, can’t we?”
“You don’t mind?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.
“Mind what?” she asked.
“I… I broke up with you,” he said. “It’s not right to hold you whenever I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
She sighed. “Are you feeling sorry for yourself because some other girl dumped you?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
“Are you feeling sorry for yourself because your team lost?”
“No,” he said, his lip twitching.
“Are you feeling sorry for yourself because you’ve given up everything to try and Defeat Evil, and you’re lonely?”
“Yeah,” he said. “A bit.”
“Do you deserve a good snog with your girlfriend?”
He stroked her smiling face. “You’re not my girlfriend, Gin,” he said.
“Oh, yes, I am,” she said firmly. “You said we couldn’t be together, and I said I knew you were going to say that, but I never said I accepted the break up.”
He blinked at her. “That’s not how it works,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “When I dump a boyfriend, I make sure he acknowledges the break up. Prevents confusion like this later on, trust me.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he said.
“So?” she prompted. “Do you deserve a snog?”
“Very much so,” he smiled.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Apparently so,” he said.
She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
His arms slid round her and he pulled her close.
He pressed his lips gently to hers once, twice and sighed as the misery and tension drained out of his body.
“We can’t get too carried away, not with Ron and Hermione downstairs,” she whispered against his lips. “But I especially wore a top that doesn’t tuck in.”
Harry groaned and slid his hands up her bare back.