A Sackful of Holiday Horsefeathers

we now bring you

the long awaited and much anticipated

sixteenth installment of

A Sackful of Holiday Horsefeathers

~~~~~~~

For all outward appearances, the Gryffindor dormitories and common room were abandoned for the afternoon. At least, that is what the petite intruder thought when she slipped quietly onto the premises.

Ginny Weasley shut the door and advanced toward the mess in the common room. She started rifling through odd bits of clutter scattered over the furniture, obviously looking for something.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the boys' dormitory overhead. Ginny jumped.

Harry was heading briskly down the stairs, but paused mid-step at the sight of Ginny. Like her, he had believed himself to be alone in the place.

"Hullo, Ginny," he said, weakly.

"Hello, Harry," said Ginny. "How's it going?"

"Good," the boy half-whispered. "An' you?"

"Fine," said Ginny, and she stared at him a bit longer than she intended to.

Quite to his surprise, Harry found that he enjoyed the way she was looking at him. And then he realized that he had always enjoyed it when she gazed at him, or smiled at him, or paid attention to him. He had always looked forward to seeing Ginny. She lit up like a firefly around him.

Harry hopped off of the bottom step and crossed the gap that lay between them. "You look different," he said, studying her face in bewilderment. "Did you get a haircut?"

"No," said Ginny, shaking her head.

"Oh, that's weird. You look different," he said again, as if he couldn't get over it.

Ginny looked up hopefully at him, and Harry's telltale eyes flickered over her visage--sending her visions of his fire. With that one look, Harry had betrayed his innermost feelings, but he found that her face held the exact same expression as his own. They were linked in that one moment of time, reading each other's minds. They knew that they were both thinking about the same thing.

Before they knew it, they were in a frenzied embrace--kissing each other as if their mouths depended on it for survival. And for the next few minutes, all Harry knew was the floor beneath his feet and his fingers running through Ginny's thick red hair and the passionate touch of her lips upon his face.

Ginny pushed him onto the sofa and leapt on his lap, straddling his hips with her pretty little legs. He gave a start as he felt Ginny's wet tongue delving into the crannies of his ear. Dear God, he hadn't known what he was missing all this time!

Of course, there was no turning back at this point. Harry simply had to allow Ginny to have her way with him now. She tore off his glasses and smiled merrily as he slid his hands around her waist, giggling when he called her "you little vixen," "you little minx," and an assortment of other endearments. And just as Ginny had expected, Harry was a very good kisser. Ah...those shy, sensitive types. So innocent, so corruptible.

The make-out session was going along swimmingly--until Harry asked a question, that is.

"So, what were you doing with Hermione and Malfoy in the prefects' bathroom?" he asked.

"Use your imagination," said Ginny. She tried to kiss his lips again, but he turned away.

"No. I really want to know, Ginny," he insisted.

"No, you don't."

"Um, yes I do."

Ginny sighed. "We were making out."

"What?" Harry was inching away from her. "You kissed Malfoy?"

"Mm-hm," Ginny nodded cheerfully.

"I'm kissing the same lips that kissed Draco Malfoy?" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, don't be like this, Harry. That was two whole days ago," said Ginny.

"Two whole--my God, Ginny, that was only two days ago! Are you telling me that--that your first kiss was from Draco Malfoy? You poor thing!"

Ginny scoffed. "Of course not! You think Malfoy is the first boy I've ever kissed? What do you think Neville and I were doing after the Yule Ball?"

"Oh, dear God," Harry muttered and averted his eyes from Ginny. First, his puritanical view of Professor Lupin had been contaminated, not to mention his idea of Professor McGonagall, and now Ginny was transforming from an innocent schoolgirl into...someone with more experience than himself.

"With Neville? I can't believe it!" he declared.

"Why? What's the matter with Neville?" Ginny exclaimed.

"He's--he's so Neville," Harry sputtered.

Ginny was becoming infuriated. "Well, I happen to like Neville very much. Maybe I should keep seeing him. After all, he is a very good kisser."

"I don't need to hear this..."

"After all the times we've made out, he really has improved. He's better than Malfoy, actually," Ginny went on.

"I'm as cool as a cucumber..."

Ginny suddenly leapt off of Harry. "You know," she said, "if you have a problem with Neville, then I don't think I want to kiss you anymore."

"But, Ginny!" Harry exclaimed.

"No, I've had enough," Ginny stated matter-of-factly. "You know what? I've wanted you for three years--almost four--and you never once asked me out. Well, I got tired of waiting. Now I'm bored with you."

She flounced away to the door. Harry yelled, "Ginny, come back!"

She smiled and called over her shoulder, "Have a good afternoon, Harry." Then she vanished through the portrait hole.

Harry slumped down on the couch. His hair was sticking up at odder angles than usual, and his face was pink and naked without his glasses. He shook his head muttering, "What a tease."

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The entrance to the Hufflepuffs' common room was lined with bright, red poinsettias and trailing vines of mistletoe. A mural covered the walls with a vibrant scene from a street in Havana. Draco and Hermione felt an instant warmth spring into their step as they proceeded to the door. Everything here reminded them of Christmas in the Caribbean.

Suddenly there was a pang of longing in Draco's heart as he gazed upon the holiday decorations. He blinked, trying to recognize the ache inside his soul--a patch of emptiness that had never been filled. He had never been taught how, and there had never been any need to do so. But just now, seeing Hermione turn around and toss him a warm and friendly smile, Draco thought it was quite possible he could begin filling that void right now.

Hermione raised a fist to the door and paused. "I do hope we're not too late," she murmured, "or else they're bound to be talking about us." What a sigh, she finally brought herself to rap upon the door. Behind her, Draco simply shrugged, with a cocky grin on his face.

Elizabeth soon came to greet them. She was wearing a light blue painter's smock, and her curly dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She thrust a paintbrush and apron into each of their hands and stepped aside to let them in.

Draco gave her a curious look. "This isn't part of your plan to make us men wear aprons, is it, Hermione?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Hermione, eyes wide with innocent wonder.

Elizabeth put in, "I simply couldn't resist--I mean, bear--to see Our Majesty's clothing get soiled."

"There, you see," Hermione told him. "Now take the apron."

Draco peered at the contents of his other hand suspiciously. "Are these Muggle paintbrushes?" he inquired.

Elizabeth pretended not to hear this and made a rapid retreat to Elaine's table.

Hermione surveyed the large room for her friends from Gryffindor, but from that group she saw only Ron. "Where are Harry and Ginny?" she asked.

"Who knows," said Draco with a shrug. "Famous Harry Potter, missing in action. Really doesn't surprise me--"

"Oh, here he comes," exclaimed Hermione. "And Ginny, too."

Draco turned his head toward the door, his initial disappointment at hearing Harry's name vanquished by the sight of the willowy redhead Ginny.

"Please, Ginny, please!" they heard Harry pleading. "I'm sorry I said those things. I shouldn't have said them; I don't know what got into me. Ginny!"

Harry made a grab for Ginny's arm, but she quickly ducked out of the way. "Get yer hands offa me!" Ginny shrieked, and her two braids whipped around in the air as she twirled about to face him.

Harry was glaring at her, fixated. "Just give me a chance. I won't let you down!"

"You've already let me down, Harry," stated Ginny.

Harry rushed toward her again, and she slapped him hard across the cheek.

Hermione looked on, appalled at his behavior. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was trying to approach them to break up the escalating quarrel, but as she was too timid to get caught in the crossfire, she stepped aside and shuffled her feet fretfully while her hands crept up to her half-open mouth. "Harry!" she cried. "Stop it this instant!"

"That's right!" yelled Ron. He jumped to his feet and pounded the table with his fist. "Stop badgering my sister! What's going on? What's the matter with you!"

Harry was gently stroking his cheek, which was bright red from Ginny's palm. He wouldn't admit that it hurt, but his eyes were filled with shock as he stared at Ginny. He had never known her to hurt anybody.

Draco rolled his eyes at this juvenile display and looked at Hermione as if to say, 'Aren't you glad we're too mature to act like that?'

Hermione didn't understand what Draco's smug expression was supposed to signify; she just thought he approved of Harry's thrashing at the hands of a girl. "I should talk to him," Hermione said quietly.

"What for?" asked Draco.

Before Hermione could reach him, though, Harry turned around and fled the room. He slammed the door behind him, and Hermione did not pursue him. Ginny returned to the group, with Elaine and Elizabeth inquiring after her well-being. Ron, too, asked Ginny how she was feeling, and she answered them all with a positive account. "I'm feeling much better, thank you, now that he's gone."

Draco gently took hold of Hermione's arm. "Why don't we get back to work?"

Hermione glanced at him. "Yes, I suppose we should."

..............to be continued