D/G Feast Story: A Christmas Feast
Title: A Christmas Feast
Authors: silverbookworm and rainpuddle13
Rating: R
Recipe: Chocolate Bread Pudding with Bourbon Pecan Sauce
Summary: The wind was cold outside, the snow falling lightly against the windowpane.
Fic Title: A Christmas Feast
Authors: Two Rubber Duckies
Rating: R
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.
~*~
Two weeks before Christmas
The wind was cold outside, the snow falling lightly against the windowpane. Inside, however, the two occupants of Dunraven Hall were nothing but warm as they lay on their enormous bed, sprawled in each other’s arms. Draco was propped up on a couple of pillows, Ginny lying on her stomach next to him with the upper half of her body draped over him languidly. His fingers were currently twined through her long hair, holding her face close while his tongue swept around her mouth, his kiss long and deep. Small whimpers were rising from her throat as she grasped his shoulders, and it was all she could do not to simply melt away in his arms.
Tap tap tap
Ginny pulled back, wondering what the noise was, but shrieked as Draco flipped her over onto her back, covering the length of her body with his. Her legs automatically parted to accommodate him, her thighs wrapping around his waist as she shifted underneath him. His arousal was evident and he began to rock his hips against hers in obvious need.
TAP TAP TAP
She pushed him away and sat up, pulling the strap of her nightie back up onto her shoulder. “What was that?”
TAP TAP TAP
“It’s a bloody owl,” Draco drawled with a long-suffering sigh. He followed Ginny as she got up off the bed and crossed his arms, staring at the large tawny owl that hovered outside the window malevolently. “Bugger off! We’re busy.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Draco, it’s an owl,” Ginny said. “Poor thing’s probably freezing out there!” She went over to the window and opened it, allowing the messenger in and stroking him gently. “Hello, Alcameides.” She patted him once more and then took the small bag he had attached to his leg, which he’d stuck out dutifully. “Come on, let’s get you some water, eh?” She held out her arm and he obediently perched himself on it, then Ginny carried him through to the kitchen, where she got him a dish of water. Once he’d drunk his fill, she opened the kitchen window and, with one last pat, he swooped out again.
She was just unrolling the note that had been sitting at the top of the bag when Draco stalked into the kitchen. “So? What’s so bloody important that someone felt they had to send an owl in the snow tonight?”
She ignored him, looking down at the parchment, then let out a rather large squeal when the note revealed the contents of the bag. “Accio wand!” Her wand came hurtling through the air, hitting her smack in the middle of her palm. She took out the contents of the bag and placed it down on the table; Draco peered at it. It looked like a matchbox to him. Not something worth interrupting what he was sure would have been a rather hot session of lovemaking for. “Engorgio!” Ginny commanded, and they both watched as the item got larger and larger until it revealed itself to be an ancient spellbook.
Ginny let out another squeal of excitement as she fingered the cover lightly, running her finger down the spine. “Oh, how wonderful,” she breathed. “I must floo Mum and thank her.”
“Ginevra.”
Ginny looked up, her surprise at the tone of her boyfriend’s voice clear on her face. “Draco?”
“Are you going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on or not?”
“Oh! I was talking to Mum the other day about our Christmas party and she offered to lend me the Prewett family cookbook. These recipes have been in our family for generations, Draco. Each daughter has added her own recipes to it and passed it down. It’s priceless.” She opened the tome and caressed the pages with her fingertips almost lovingly, taking great care to turn each page carefully.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think the caterer needs recipes, Ginny. He’s been catering parties for years.”
“Caterer? What caterer?”
“The caterer I hired two weeks ago for the party.”
Ginny’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You never discussed anything with me about hiring a caterer!”
“I didn’t need to,” Draco said patiently, as if dealing with a small, recalcitrant child. “The Malfoy family has long been known for its fabulous parties. Gideon Dumaresq has been our caterer since before I was born.”
“I don’t give a flying broomstick how long he’s been catering for,” Ginny retorted, her mouth thinning in anger. “I’m cooking all the dishes we’ll need, so you can just tell him his services won’t be required.”
“I most certainly will not,” Draco shot back haughtily. “I’m paying for this party, so it will run the way I say it will.” As soon as the words left his mouth, though, Draco realised that perhaps he should have phrased it differently.
“Oh, really,” Ginny said. Her eyes were dark and she was so angry that she was surprised her entire body wasn’t visibly shaking. “Well, I don’t want your bloody money, Malfoy. I can buy all the ingredients I’ll need myself. In case you’d forgotten, this party is for our friends and family to help us celebrate our first Christmas together, to get used to the fact that we are a couple.” She spat the last word out as if it was a curse. “I’m sure you remember my brothers? Freckles, red hair, all wanting to hex you to Siberia? The last thing they’re going to want to eat is your bloody catered food!”
“If they don’t like it,” Draco answered coldly, his already thin veneer of patience well and truly dissipated, “then they’re more than welcome to stay home.”
Ginny slammed the book shut. “You can shove your catered food up your arse, Draco Malfoy.” With that, she and the book disappeared.
Draco stared at the empty spot that had not two seconds ago been occupied by his girlfriend of seven months. “Bollocks,” he muttered. “That didn’t quite go the way I’d hoped.” He grabbed a glass of firewhisky to calm his nerves a little and resigned himself to a night of sleeping away from Ginny without being able to cuddle her. Any hopes he’d had of getting laid tonight had well and truly been shelved.
That thought was the most depressing of all, so it was a dejected Draco Malfoy that made his way back to the master bedroom. He hated lying in the same bed as Ginny Weasley but not being able to touch her. However, when he tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. He rattled it, pulled it, pushed it, but nothing. “Ginny?”
“Go away.”
“Have you locked this door?”
He heard a loud snort. “Not much gets past you, eh?”
“Ginny, open this door right now or I’ll break it down!” he fumed.
There was a pause before she answered. “Knock yourself out.”
“GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!”
“NO! NOW BUGGER OFF, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP!”
Draco kicked the door in a fit of anger, and then howled in pain as it connected a little too hard. Right at that very moment, he wanted to throw a first class wobbly, but it wasn’t becoming of a Malfoy to throw wobblies of any kind, so instead he merely glared at the door and took a dignified walk to one of the guest bedrooms, where he spent a restless night alternating between plotting to get back at Ginny and craving her touch.
~*~
The next morning, Draco paused at the entry to the kitchen, his hair still wet from his shower, to find Ginny cooking him a plate of his favourite breakfast.
He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms. “Is it safe for me to come in?”
Ginny’s head snapped up and she smiled sheepishly. “Of course it is.”
He entered the room and wandered over to the stove, where she stood. “So, about last night…” The words trailed off as the memory of their fight lingered between them, like a ghost they could see but couldn’t touch.
Ginny sighed, knowing she would have to be the one to apologise first, because the ‘s’ word was not something a Malfoy used very often. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Draco, but you make me so angry sometimes! You should have at least discussed a caterer with me first, instead of telling me. This is our party. We’re hosting this together. Therefore, all the decisions should be joint ones.”
Draco said nothing, his gaze steady and unwavering. He reached out to Ginny, pulling her away from the stove and into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You’re right, Gin. I should have spoken to you first, and I apologise for not having done so. Yes, it is our party and we should have discussed it first. But--” Because of course, there always had to be a ‘but’, “you shouldn’t have locked me out of the bedroom.”
Ginny tilted her head up and studied his profile thoughtfully. Draco was a handsome man, there was no doubt about that, but it was his eyes that she loved the most. Grey eyes that varied in shade, depending on his mood. Right now, they were a light grey, as if the weight of the previous night’s argument had lifted the dark shade away. “No, I shouldn’t have. It’s your bedroom, too. I promise I won’t do it again.” Draco leaned in to kiss her. “Unless you piss me off again, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed as she giggled. Her laughter soon faded as he kissed her with everything he was, poring his heart and soul into the kiss. Ginny loved it when he kissed her this way; he held nothing back, gave he another small piece of his heart every time he did.
By the time he let her go, breakfast had burned. But somehow, Ginny didn’t give a damn.
~*~
One week before Christmas
Everything was set; the dishes had been made by Ginny with the very best of care and no small amount of love as she’d carefully followed the instructions for each recipe to the letter. The ballroom had been appropriately decorated with all manner of Christmas fanfare; Ginny had praised the house elves enthusiastically once they’d finished, and they’d all scurried off with reddened cheeks and what passed for elfish grins on their faces. The elves in the kitchen were keeping the hot food warm enough so that they wouldn’t burn but would still taste as though they’d come straight from the oven. The platters of hor d’ouevres and finger food, to be served as the guests arrived, were garnished and ready to go. The punch and other assorted refreshments were on ice and would be cold enough to consume immediately. All the room needed, Ginny reflected as she nervously smoothed down her dress, were the guests in question.
She’d gone shopping a few days previously and found the perfect dress; it was made from a light, shimmery material, silver in colour and ankle length. She’d pinned her long, red hair up in a French roll, which suited the halter neck style of the bodice. Draco loved her neck, loved to kiss it because he knew she was extremely sensitive there. Long diamond drop earrings hung from her earlobes, dazzling in the light. They’d been a gift from Draco for her twenty-sixth birthday in August, and Ginny loved them, wearing them whenever possible. Strappy silver and green sandals - a nod to Draco’s former school house - adorned her feet. She knew she looked lovely and wasn’t afraid to show off her figure… which was fortunate, given the material of the dress had molded itself to her body, clinging to every curve.
Ginny also had an ulterior motive to wearing such a clingy dress - she wanted to get Draco all hot and bothered. She wanted him so hot for her that he took her against the nearest piece of furniture as soon as the last guest left the house. Draco Malfoy may have had a lot of faults, but he was undoubtedly the best lover Ginny Weasley had ever had, and just the thought of him taking her roughly was enough to make her body tingle.
She went over to the drinks table and poured herself a cup of spiced rum punch into one of the crystal glasses purchased especially for the occasion. Taking a nervous sip, she willed herself to calm down and enjoy the evening.
But Ginny couldn’t help it. This wasn’t just a Christmas party; it was a very important step in her family’s acceptance of Draco Malfoy as the partner of her choice. She was desperately in love with him (not that she would admit that easily) and although she didn’t need the approval of her family, she very much wanted their blessing. They’d been dating for seven months, and yet this would be the very first time all nine members of her clan would be in the same room, along with their assorted spouses and children. That they had all promised to be there, despite being scattered to the four corners of the universe, meant the world to Ginny. She truly believed this was the first sign her family as a whole had given that they would accept Draco as an honorary Weasley.
Ginny smiled when she thought of her mother, who’d confided a few weeks back that she was knitting Draco one of the infamous Weasley jumpers for him. Ginny wasn’t sure how appreciative Draco might be of such a gift, but she’d persuaded her mother to make the jumper silver and the letter D green. Molly would be presenting the gift to Draco on Christmas Day, so Ginny was keeping her fingers crossed that he would be gracious about it (in public, at least).
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him even enter the room, much less sidle up to her. His arms went around her as he pulled her to him, her back against his chest, and kissed her ear, then whispered into it. “Do you know how sexy you look in that dress?” he growled softly. “It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to bend you over this table and fuck you right here.”
Ginny shivered as lurid snapshots of the two of them bent over the table flashed in her mind. “Don’t do this, not now,” she breathed, her voice almost pleading. Draco was known for being wicked and teasing her in such a manner, telling her how hot she was and how much he wanted her when they were in positions where they couldn’t act on the sparks between them.
“Can you feel how hard I am? How hard you make me?” he whispered, tracing the lobe of her ear with his tongue.
Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but out of nowhere came a very loud rendition of Jingle Bells. Someone was at the door. Thankful for the excuse to get away from him lest she get herself messed up by his wandering hands, she was wondering how she might be able to lure him away later for a quickie as she excused herself to answer the doorbell. Glancing down at her watch, she saw it was only 5.30pm. The guests weren’t due until seven. Curious.
Ginny threw the door open, waving away the half-dozen house elves that sprung to get it (despite her having told them she would greet all their guests personally), and gave the new arrival her brightest smile… until she saw a stranger on her doorstep. He was tall with light brown hair, his features sharp and an air of arrogance around him. Something about him put Ginny on alert.
“Can I help you?”
“Is this the Malfoy residence?” the man asked in a tone Ginny couldn’t describe as anything but snooty, his stare fixed on something that lay beyond Ginny’s shoulder.
“I’m the mistress of the house here,” Ginny said, her hackles well and truly up. “Draco is my partner. Can I help you?”
The man looked down at Ginny, as if noticing her presence for the first time. “You can let me in. I have a party to organise.”
“Excuse me? I think there must be some mistake. There is no party to organise.” Ginny’s tone was harsh, but she couldn’t help it.
Without a word, the man who was obviously a wizard pulled out his wand and a small, flat black disk that transformed into some sort of diary once his wand had been waved over it. He flicked through the pages, moving his fingers in the air to mimic such an action, until he found what he was looking for.
“I can assure you, madam,” he sniffed, “that Gideon Dumaresq doesn’t not make mistakes. I have been hired by Draco Malfoy to cater his Christmas party, so if you’d be so good as to move out of my way, I shall get on with it.”
Ginny was so shocked by this turn of events that she could do nothing but stand to the side as he stepped over the threshold. Once he was inside, he clicked his fingers three times and a stream of house elves not unlike her own appeared out of thin air, carrying trays, cutlery, glassware and crockery into the ballroom, which Gideon seemed to know the location of without any help.
She snapped out of her trance once the last of the long parade of elves ventured into the ballroom, and she followed them in as fast as her shoes would allow her. She found Draco talking to Gideon over against the far wall while the caterer’s elves bustled about. The manor’s house elves stopped working momentarily, staring at the newcomers nervously. Ginny went over to them and gave them a reassuring smile. “They won’t be staying long,” she told Rudolph, the elf in charge. “Please continue setting up and ignore them.”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, giving her a small bow before turning back to his chores. He snapped his fingers once and the elves sprang to life again.
Ginny was fuming. She wasn’t just angry; she could literally feel her blood boiling in her veins. That bastard! He knew she was cooking for the party; he knew it! He was supposed to cancel the bloody caterer that he shouldn’t have even hired in the first place. She wanted to go over there and pull him away or slap his face or something, but she was so angry that she seemed to have been glued to the spot by one of the twins’ Sticky Toffees. So instead, she simply stared at Draco and waited until he looked her way.
She didn’t have to wait for long. As soon as Draco took in the look on her face and the way her hands were balled up into fists by her side, he excused himself and came over. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked in a puzzled tone.
“What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with me?” She asked incredulously. “What the fuck is he doing here? You were supposed to cancel him!”
Draco’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “When did we agree to that, exactly?”
Ginny’s mouth fell open. “You KNEW I was cooking for this party! You saw all the food! I told you to cancel him a week ago when we had that fight!”
“Just because you tell me to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it,” Draco retorted in a low, almost cruel voice. “I want this party catered, so it’s being catered. You can bring the food you made out.”
Ginny placed her hands on her hips, her agitation clear for anyone to see. “That’s not the point, Draco! I made more than enough food for everyone! It’s a waste of money for him to bring more! Get rid of him.”
“No.”
Her mind was spinning; five minutes ago they had been very close to shagging, and now they were facing each other as opposing teams in battle. Ginny could tell Draco wasn’t going to back down on this; well, neither was she.
“Fine!” she hissed. “Have your bloody food here. We’ll see whose gets eaten. And I really hope you enjoyed your night in the spare room last week, because you’ll have plenty of time from now on to get used to it.” Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the ballroom, not willing to let him see the tears that had welled up fall down her cheeks.
~*~
Molly and Arthur arrived a half-hour early at six thirty so Molly could help Ginny out with any last minute preparations. Ginny hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Draco since their fight the hour before, so after long, deep breaths and more than one cup of the spiced rum punch, she was cool, calm and collected by the time her parents stepped out of the fireplace.
“Oh, Ginny, dear!” Molly exclaimed as she shook the soot of her cloak and handed it to the house elf that hovered near her. “It looks wonderful!” She took in the enormous ten foot Christmas tree that was laden with decorations and the myriad presents stacked underneath it; the magical tinsel and various wreaths of holly and bay leaves that hung around the room, changing colour every few seconds, and the numerous pieces of mistletoe placed here and there for those who wanted to indulge in a special bit of Christmas spirit.
“Doesn’t it?” Ginny smiled and kissed her mother’s cheek, then greeted her father in the same manner.
Arthur gave her a quick once over. “You make me feel old, you know,” he said with a smile. “You look beautiful, Gin.”
“Thanks, Dad. Do you want a drink?” Arthur nodded and wandered off to grab himself a drink off a tray one of the elves was carrying, fending off others trying to ply him with appetizers already.
Molly went over to the table that held dishes made from hundreds of years worth of Prewett family recipes, handed down generation to generation. She cast an appraising eye over tables laden with dozens of dishes, both starters and main courses, which included steak and kidney pudding, potato and leek soup, bacon, onion and potato hotpot, bangers and mash with onion gravy, dumplings, Shepherd’s Pie, toad-in-the-hole, Cornish pasties and various roasts and stews. The desserts, which included pumpkin pie, spotted dick, chocolate dipped strawberries, banoffi pie and various puddings, would be brought out once dinner was over. “It all looks delicious, dear,” she said. “I do wish you’d have let me bring over something, though.”
“I told you, Mum,” Ginny said, putting an arm around her mother’s waist. “I wanted to do this by myself.” She tried to put on a bright smile, despite the sadness she felt at yet another argument with Draco. She’d even added two of his favourite dishes to the Prewett family cookbook as her contribution - sauté of beef with wild mushrooms and chocolate bread pudding with bourbon pecan sauce - and both dishes were among the offerings on the menu tonight; now, she wondered if he’d even sample them.
Molly looked at her youngest child properly, into the brown eyes she’d inherited from her father. “What’s wrong?” She looked around and noticed the absence of someone who should have been there. “Where’s Draco?”
Ginny tried to be nonchalant, but her mother’s sympathetic features made her burst into tears. “I don’t know where he is,” she sobbed as Molly pulled her into an embrace. She tearfully explained what had happened as her mother rubbed her back soothingly, and once she was done, Molly pulled back to look at her daughter.
“You just wait until everyone starts arriving, Ginny,” Molly said. “They’ll tuck into your dishes without a second glance at the caterer’s food. Don’t cry, darling. There’s enough room for all the food to be in here, and if people don’t eat Draco’s food you can give it to Ron to take home.”
Ginny giggled in spite of herself; her favourite brother’s appetite was legendary in the Weasley family, and was even more so now his wife was six months pregnant. Fred and George endlessly mocked their baby brother, poking at his stomach and asking him how many babies he was eating for, while Hermione simply rolled her eyes and rubbed her swollen tummy.
“You’re right, Mum,” Ginny said. “We’ll just let the guests decide what they want to eat.”
Molly patted her arm with a smile as Arthur rejoined them.
~*~
At five minutes to seven, Ginny was wondering whether she would have to go in search of Draco when he entered the ballroom. He came over and greeted Molly and Arthur, avoiding looking at Ginny altogether as she gave the tables one last look-over. Everything was perfect.
The doorbell heralded the arrival of more guests, and between the door and the fireplace, Ginny spent the next twenty minutes greeting each new arrival. The house elves scurried around, some taking cloaks and coats and handbags into storage while others served drinks and appetizers. She found herself glancing at Draco every spare second she had as he made his way around the ballroom, greeting everyone in turn. She hated having to host what was supposed to be a happy occasion being at odds with him, but there was no time for them to sort anything out now.
Ron and Hermione arrived at ten past the hour, with Hermione shifting the blame solely on Ron’s shoulders. “We’d have been here on time if Ron had been able to organize himself properly. I’m sorry we’re late, Ginny.” Hermione kissed her sister-in-law’s cheek and Ron followed suit. “That’s a lovely dress! Where did you get it?”
Ron tried not to roll his eyes, instead seeking out a drink, something to eat, and his parents in that order. He sorely wished Harry was going to be there tonight to share the suffering of having to be in Malfoy’s company for a few hours, but Harry was away in Chile on Ministry business and had had to owl his regrets. Ron was half-convinced Harry had planned it that way so he could get out of coming.
“Harry would be here if he could,” Hermione said as she joined her husband’s side, a cup of pumpkin juice in one hand. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and Ron took advantage of her closeness, putting his arms around her as best he could with her tummy in the way and kissed her properly.
“I hate it when you do that,” he whispered against her lips as he pulled away, torn between being irked and thankful that his wife could apparently read his mind.
“I know. That’s why I do it.” Hermione grinned at him, sipping her juice. She looked around, observing her hosts carefully. “Something’s wrong with Ginny.”
“Other than the fact she’s mental for wanting to be anywhere in the vicinity of Ferret Boy?”
Hermione hit his arm. “Stop it, Ron. Show your sister a little respect. If she loves him, then that should be good enough.”
Ron knew his wife better than that, though, and wasn’t fooled. He slipped an arm around her waist. “Don’t tell me you like it any more than I do.”
Hermione let out a breath. “No, of course I don’t,” she admitted softly. “But Ginny’s old enough to make her own decisions and I have to respect them, regardless of whether I like them or not.”
They stood together, watching as Draco made his way around the room, inching closer to them. Finally, he ended up in front of them.
“Ron, Hermione,” he said a little stiffly. He paused before offering Ron his hand, and Hermione was pleased when Ron didn’t hesitate to shake it, even if it was so brief that if you’d blinked you’d have missed it. “Thanks for being here tonight.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Draco,” Hermione said warmly, trying to alleviate the obvious tension.
“How are you feeling?” Draco waved a hand in the general area of her stomach.
“I’m tired a lot more than usual, but otherwise fine, thank you.” She cast her gaze around the room. “It looks wonderful in here, you’ve done a great job.”
“You’ll have to praise Ginny for that. She organized most of it.”
Ron merely nodded, and the three former schoolmates stood huddled together for a few more awkward moments before Draco finally excused himself and left them alone.
Ron breathed out and kissed Hermione’s temple, his hand going down to rest on her tummy as he rubbed gently. The thought that their baby was in there always made him break out in a goofy grin. “Do you want to sit down?”
Hermione reached up, brushing back a lock of his red hair. “No, I’m all right for now, thank you, love. I want to say hello to a few people.” She gave him a lingering kiss, then squeezed his hand and wandered away.
He sighed, wishing that it was already time to go home, but then he spotted more house elves coming into the ballroom, carrying trays laden with delicious food, and he decided that perhaps he could stick around for a bit.
~*~
By 8pm, the party was well and truly in full swing, with the entire Weasley clan in attendance. Small, redheaded beings ran riot, weaving in and out of various huddles. Ginny had been keeping a very close eye on the food and had observed, with no small amount of pride and a little bit of smugness, that the Prewett family dishes had been far more popular than the ones Dumaresq had brought. But then she looked up at Draco, who stood over the other side of the room talking to Pansy, and a wave of guilt swept over her. It wasn’t a competition. She silently thanked Hermione for being diplomatic enough to have taken an equal amount from both as she’d made up plates for herself and Ron.
Her sister-in-law appeared at her side. “This food is just divine, Gin,” Hermione said with a grin. “It’s so nice not to have to cook!”
“You should be making Ron do everything, Hermione,” Gin said. “You should be taking advantage of your pregnancy and letting him do all the work.”
“You’ve eaten things he’s cooked,” Hermione pointed out.
“Ah, yes. Good point. I was lucky to live to tell the tale.”
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?” A low, amused voice interrupted them, and they both turned around to see Harry standing behind them. Hermione said his name in an excited voice and threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could with her tummy in the way.
He held her for a few moments, kissing her cheek as he released her. “Hope you’ve fed my godson well with this magnificent feast on display,” he said with a grin. Hermione just grinned back, and Harry managed to greet Ginny with a kiss before Ron came barrelling over, embracing his best friend.
“Thank God you’re here,” Ron said almost breathlessly.
“I’m sorry the party is boring you, Ron,” Ginny said sweetly. “Feel free to leave any time you please.”
The tips of Ron’s ears turned red, his face a little flushed. “It’s not boring, Gin,” he said in an attempt to placate her, but Ginny just laughed.
“I’m teasing you,” she said. “Harry, help yourself to some food and drink, there’s plenty there. I’ll leave you three to catch up.”
Ron and Hermione waited for Harry to get a plate and a drink, then the three of them grabbed a table on one side so Hermione could sit down.
~*~
Just before the live band Draco had hired to entertain their guests began their set, he quieted the room down so he could make a speech on behalf of himself and Ginny. It was the first time they’d stood near each other all night, and he’d taken her hand in a false show of togetherness. Ginny had squeezed his hand so tightly that Draco was sure she’d cut off all the circulation, so he kept it short and thanked everyone for coming. They then took turns handing out the gifts they’d purchased for everyone, and the next twenty minutes was spent in a flurry of wrapping paper and excitement over the presents.
The band struck their first note at the stroke of nine o’clock, and all the couples got up on the floor to have a dance. The various Weasley grandchildren paired off in groups of two or three, enjoying themselves immensely, and Ginny watched through narrow eyes as Draco held his hand out to Pansy for a dance.
She watched the two of them move into the centre of the floor, Pansy flicking her long, black hair over her shoulder as she openly flirted with her old house mate.
Right, Ginny thought. Two can play at that game.
Looking around, she found her intended target, still seated at a table with his two best friends. Hermione was slumped back in a seat, her stockinged feet up on Ron’s lap while she rubbed her abdomen. Harry and Ron were talking animatedly about something while Ron massaged his wife’s feet, her ankles visibly swollen.
She strode over to them and held out her hand to Harry. “Come dance with me.”
Harry paled. “Uh, Ginny, you know I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, Harry. Please?”
She knew Harry wouldn’t resist the pleading tone of her voice, and she was proven right when he sighed and stood up. “Just one song, okay?”
“Okay.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out onto the floor before he could change his mind.
Their appearance on the dance floor didn’t go unnoticed, and Draco swivelled Pansy around so he could watch them. He didn’t like the way Potter was holding Ginny, or that she was standing so close to him. He frowned, wanting to go over there and punch Potter, but he knew that would be a one-way ticket back to singledom if he did. Damn Ginny.
The song that was currently being played was a slow one, and Ginny’s cheek rested against Potter’s, her arms around his neck and her body pressed to his. Potter’s hands were on the small of her back, his fingers splayed. Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to, and as the minutes ticked on, he decided he wasn’t going to just stand there and let Potter paw his witch.
“May I cut in, please?” someone said, interrupting his train of thought. Hermione Weasley was standing there, a picture of calm.
Pansy opened her mouth, presumably to say no, but Draco got in first. “Sure. Pansy, would you mind sitting this one out?”
Pansy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but was adult enough not to show her displeasure in public. “Fine. I have to get a move on anyway. Thank you for the lovely evening, Draco. I’ll owl you.” She made a big show of kissing his cheek, which got an eye roll out of Hermione, then turned and promptly got swallowed by the crowd.
Draco looked at the woman he’d once relentlessly taunted for her parentage and held out his hand to her, pulling her gently into his embrace. “Had enough to eat?”
Hermione placed one hand on his shoulder, the fingers of the other wrapping around his, and squeezed softly. “Yes, thank you. More than enough.”
“Been enjoying yourself?”
“A lot more than you and Ginny have, I would wager,” Hermione answered quietly. They both looked over to where Ginny and Harry were dancing and watched as Harry leaned down to whisper something in Ginny’s ear that made her brush her lips over his, briefly.
Draco hadn’t realised he’d reacted verbally with a low growl until Hermione’s grip on him tightened. “She’s only doing it to get a rise out of you, Draco,” Hermione said. “Whatever is wrong between you needs to be sorted out privately. You’d be best off keeping your cool until everyone’s gone, and then you can have another of your huge shouting matches. But if you go over there now and cause a scene, Ginny will blame you for ruining the party and things will be even worse.”
Draco took a few deep breaths, knowing Hermione was right. “Still an insufferable know-it-all, Granger,” he said.
Hermione could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t serious and was just having a dig at her. “That’s Weasley to you, thank you. Play your cards right and you’ll soon be a Weasley too.” She laughed as the smug look on his face vanished quicker than Molly’s cooking when Ron got near it.
~*~
By midnight, the last of the guests had gone. Molly had offered to stay behind and help clean up, but Ginny had shooed her away with an embrace and told her the house elves would take care of the mess left behind. And they did, with surprising speed.
Draco had disappeared into his office, presumably to pay for the catering (Ginny had managed to offload quite a few plates of it to Ron, Harry and a few of her other brothers) and the ballroom was spotless by the time he returned. Ginny had seated herself on one of the tables, her legs swaying back and forth in the air.
She looked up as he came into the room, a tendril of red hair hanging loose by her face, and the sight of her was so lovely that he couldn’t help but go over to stand in front of her and brush it back behind her ear.
She sighed softly, closing her eyes at his touch. “I hate it when we fight, Draco,” she said wearily.
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. “So do I,” he said, his voice husky. He regretted that they’d ever had the fight. This should have been a special night for both of them; instead, they’d done their best to avoid each other. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”
Her eyes opened and she stared at him for so long that he began to feel a little uncomfortable. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said it first.”
His mouth curved into what might have been a smile, except it slipped away too quickly to tell. “I should have cancelled the caterer.”
“Yes, you should have.” Her gaze was still upon him, her eyes misty. “I shouldn’t have flirted with Harry to annoy you.”
“No, you definitely shouldn’t have.”
“Did it work?”
“Spectacularly. You can thank Hermione for stopping me knocking him flat.”
In spite of herself, Ginny giggled. “I’m sorry. I really am.” Her face sobered as she slid off the table and stood, both hands in his now.
“I know,” he said, brushing away a solitary tear that rolled down her cheek. “Let’s never fight again.”
“Okay.”
Draco opened his arms and Ginny flung herself into them, and they clung to each other for long, precious moments, everything all right again in their world. “I love you,” he said, his voice so soft that Ginny had to strain to hear it.
“I love you, too.” She tilted her head up and closed her eyes, and Draco obliged her with a kiss; one of his slow, lingering kisses that succeeded in melting every bone in her body. She slumped against him, safe in his strong embrace, and she whimpered when he swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed.
Ginny was more than happy to simply stand still and let Draco undress her, something he did masterfully, placing kisses on her bare skin as each part was revealed to him. She shivered as he laid her down gently on the bed, quickly stripping his clothes off, and then climbed on top of her, his fingers and mouth and tongue teasing and caressing her until she couldn’t stand it.
He then joined them, sliding deep inside her with one smooth stroke, and all Ginny could do was hold on tight as Draco pushed her to the edge once more with his body and his erotic whispers in her ear, and once they were both sated, she cuddled up to him, curling herself around him. He stroked her damp hair, pushing it off her face, and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.
“Now that is a Christmas present I wouldn’t mind unwrapping every night,” Draco said as Ginny was nodding off. She giggled sleepily and kissed him once more before settling her head on his shoulder.
“If you’re a very good boy, you just might get lucky.”
Draco smiled to himself and waited until Ginny was asleep, her breathing steady and even. “I already am lucky,” he whispered into the dark. Then he closed his eyes and followed Ginny into slumber, dreaming of her wearing nothing but a big, green bow.
~*~
Recipe: We went about enthusiastically collecting recipes for all the dishes mentioned, and then we read the rules and noted that we can only submit one! So we hope you enjoy the one we’ve chosen. And yes, we’ve got them all if you want more!
Chocolate Bread Pudding with Bourbon Pecan Sauce
1 1/4 cups white sugar
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 1/4 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup chopped toasted pecans
2 tablespoons bourbon
2 cups whole milk
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup white sugar
8 (1 ounce) squares semisweet chocolate
8 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 pound egg bread, sliced into 1 inch pieces
To make sauce: stir 1 1/4 cups sugar and water in heavy large saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves. Mix in corn syrup and lemon juice. Increase heat and boil without stirring until syrup turns deep amber, brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush and swirling pan occasionally. Remove from heat; pour in 1 1/4 cups cream (mixture will bubble up), stir over low heat until caramel is melted and smooth. Increase heat and boil until sauce is reduced to 1 2/3 cups, stirring often, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat; mix in pecans and bourbon.
To make pudding: preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Combine milk, 2 cups cream, and 1 cup sugar in heavy large saucepan over medium high heat, stir until sugar dissolves and mixture comes to boil. Remove from heat, add chocolate, and stir until smooth. Beat eggs and vanilla in large bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in chocolate mixture; add bread cubes and let stand until bread absorbs some of the custard, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes. Transfer mixture to a 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) until set in center, about 45 minutes. Serve pudding warm or at room temperature with warm sauce.
Authors: silverbookworm and rainpuddle13
Rating: R
Recipe: Chocolate Bread Pudding with Bourbon Pecan Sauce
Summary: The wind was cold outside, the snow falling lightly against the windowpane.
Fic Title: A Christmas Feast
Authors: Two Rubber Duckies
Rating: R
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.
~*~
Two weeks before Christmas
The wind was cold outside, the snow falling lightly against the windowpane. Inside, however, the two occupants of Dunraven Hall were nothing but warm as they lay on their enormous bed, sprawled in each other’s arms. Draco was propped up on a couple of pillows, Ginny lying on her stomach next to him with the upper half of her body draped over him languidly. His fingers were currently twined through her long hair, holding her face close while his tongue swept around her mouth, his kiss long and deep. Small whimpers were rising from her throat as she grasped his shoulders, and it was all she could do not to simply melt away in his arms.
Tap tap tap
Ginny pulled back, wondering what the noise was, but shrieked as Draco flipped her over onto her back, covering the length of her body with his. Her legs automatically parted to accommodate him, her thighs wrapping around his waist as she shifted underneath him. His arousal was evident and he began to rock his hips against hers in obvious need.
TAP TAP TAP
She pushed him away and sat up, pulling the strap of her nightie back up onto her shoulder. “What was that?”
TAP TAP TAP
“It’s a bloody owl,” Draco drawled with a long-suffering sigh. He followed Ginny as she got up off the bed and crossed his arms, staring at the large tawny owl that hovered outside the window malevolently. “Bugger off! We’re busy.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Draco, it’s an owl,” Ginny said. “Poor thing’s probably freezing out there!” She went over to the window and opened it, allowing the messenger in and stroking him gently. “Hello, Alcameides.” She patted him once more and then took the small bag he had attached to his leg, which he’d stuck out dutifully. “Come on, let’s get you some water, eh?” She held out her arm and he obediently perched himself on it, then Ginny carried him through to the kitchen, where she got him a dish of water. Once he’d drunk his fill, she opened the kitchen window and, with one last pat, he swooped out again.
She was just unrolling the note that had been sitting at the top of the bag when Draco stalked into the kitchen. “So? What’s so bloody important that someone felt they had to send an owl in the snow tonight?”
She ignored him, looking down at the parchment, then let out a rather large squeal when the note revealed the contents of the bag. “Accio wand!” Her wand came hurtling through the air, hitting her smack in the middle of her palm. She took out the contents of the bag and placed it down on the table; Draco peered at it. It looked like a matchbox to him. Not something worth interrupting what he was sure would have been a rather hot session of lovemaking for. “Engorgio!” Ginny commanded, and they both watched as the item got larger and larger until it revealed itself to be an ancient spellbook.
Ginny let out another squeal of excitement as she fingered the cover lightly, running her finger down the spine. “Oh, how wonderful,” she breathed. “I must floo Mum and thank her.”
“Ginevra.”
Ginny looked up, her surprise at the tone of her boyfriend’s voice clear on her face. “Draco?”
“Are you going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on or not?”
“Oh! I was talking to Mum the other day about our Christmas party and she offered to lend me the Prewett family cookbook. These recipes have been in our family for generations, Draco. Each daughter has added her own recipes to it and passed it down. It’s priceless.” She opened the tome and caressed the pages with her fingertips almost lovingly, taking great care to turn each page carefully.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think the caterer needs recipes, Ginny. He’s been catering parties for years.”
“Caterer? What caterer?”
“The caterer I hired two weeks ago for the party.”
Ginny’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You never discussed anything with me about hiring a caterer!”
“I didn’t need to,” Draco said patiently, as if dealing with a small, recalcitrant child. “The Malfoy family has long been known for its fabulous parties. Gideon Dumaresq has been our caterer since before I was born.”
“I don’t give a flying broomstick how long he’s been catering for,” Ginny retorted, her mouth thinning in anger. “I’m cooking all the dishes we’ll need, so you can just tell him his services won’t be required.”
“I most certainly will not,” Draco shot back haughtily. “I’m paying for this party, so it will run the way I say it will.” As soon as the words left his mouth, though, Draco realised that perhaps he should have phrased it differently.
“Oh, really,” Ginny said. Her eyes were dark and she was so angry that she was surprised her entire body wasn’t visibly shaking. “Well, I don’t want your bloody money, Malfoy. I can buy all the ingredients I’ll need myself. In case you’d forgotten, this party is for our friends and family to help us celebrate our first Christmas together, to get used to the fact that we are a couple.” She spat the last word out as if it was a curse. “I’m sure you remember my brothers? Freckles, red hair, all wanting to hex you to Siberia? The last thing they’re going to want to eat is your bloody catered food!”
“If they don’t like it,” Draco answered coldly, his already thin veneer of patience well and truly dissipated, “then they’re more than welcome to stay home.”
Ginny slammed the book shut. “You can shove your catered food up your arse, Draco Malfoy.” With that, she and the book disappeared.
Draco stared at the empty spot that had not two seconds ago been occupied by his girlfriend of seven months. “Bollocks,” he muttered. “That didn’t quite go the way I’d hoped.” He grabbed a glass of firewhisky to calm his nerves a little and resigned himself to a night of sleeping away from Ginny without being able to cuddle her. Any hopes he’d had of getting laid tonight had well and truly been shelved.
That thought was the most depressing of all, so it was a dejected Draco Malfoy that made his way back to the master bedroom. He hated lying in the same bed as Ginny Weasley but not being able to touch her. However, when he tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. He rattled it, pulled it, pushed it, but nothing. “Ginny?”
“Go away.”
“Have you locked this door?”
He heard a loud snort. “Not much gets past you, eh?”
“Ginny, open this door right now or I’ll break it down!” he fumed.
There was a pause before she answered. “Knock yourself out.”
“GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY, YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!”
“NO! NOW BUGGER OFF, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP!”
Draco kicked the door in a fit of anger, and then howled in pain as it connected a little too hard. Right at that very moment, he wanted to throw a first class wobbly, but it wasn’t becoming of a Malfoy to throw wobblies of any kind, so instead he merely glared at the door and took a dignified walk to one of the guest bedrooms, where he spent a restless night alternating between plotting to get back at Ginny and craving her touch.
~*~
The next morning, Draco paused at the entry to the kitchen, his hair still wet from his shower, to find Ginny cooking him a plate of his favourite breakfast.
He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms. “Is it safe for me to come in?”
Ginny’s head snapped up and she smiled sheepishly. “Of course it is.”
He entered the room and wandered over to the stove, where she stood. “So, about last night…” The words trailed off as the memory of their fight lingered between them, like a ghost they could see but couldn’t touch.
Ginny sighed, knowing she would have to be the one to apologise first, because the ‘s’ word was not something a Malfoy used very often. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Draco, but you make me so angry sometimes! You should have at least discussed a caterer with me first, instead of telling me. This is our party. We’re hosting this together. Therefore, all the decisions should be joint ones.”
Draco said nothing, his gaze steady and unwavering. He reached out to Ginny, pulling her away from the stove and into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You’re right, Gin. I should have spoken to you first, and I apologise for not having done so. Yes, it is our party and we should have discussed it first. But--” Because of course, there always had to be a ‘but’, “you shouldn’t have locked me out of the bedroom.”
Ginny tilted her head up and studied his profile thoughtfully. Draco was a handsome man, there was no doubt about that, but it was his eyes that she loved the most. Grey eyes that varied in shade, depending on his mood. Right now, they were a light grey, as if the weight of the previous night’s argument had lifted the dark shade away. “No, I shouldn’t have. It’s your bedroom, too. I promise I won’t do it again.” Draco leaned in to kiss her. “Unless you piss me off again, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed as she giggled. Her laughter soon faded as he kissed her with everything he was, poring his heart and soul into the kiss. Ginny loved it when he kissed her this way; he held nothing back, gave he another small piece of his heart every time he did.
By the time he let her go, breakfast had burned. But somehow, Ginny didn’t give a damn.
~*~
One week before Christmas
Everything was set; the dishes had been made by Ginny with the very best of care and no small amount of love as she’d carefully followed the instructions for each recipe to the letter. The ballroom had been appropriately decorated with all manner of Christmas fanfare; Ginny had praised the house elves enthusiastically once they’d finished, and they’d all scurried off with reddened cheeks and what passed for elfish grins on their faces. The elves in the kitchen were keeping the hot food warm enough so that they wouldn’t burn but would still taste as though they’d come straight from the oven. The platters of hor d’ouevres and finger food, to be served as the guests arrived, were garnished and ready to go. The punch and other assorted refreshments were on ice and would be cold enough to consume immediately. All the room needed, Ginny reflected as she nervously smoothed down her dress, were the guests in question.
She’d gone shopping a few days previously and found the perfect dress; it was made from a light, shimmery material, silver in colour and ankle length. She’d pinned her long, red hair up in a French roll, which suited the halter neck style of the bodice. Draco loved her neck, loved to kiss it because he knew she was extremely sensitive there. Long diamond drop earrings hung from her earlobes, dazzling in the light. They’d been a gift from Draco for her twenty-sixth birthday in August, and Ginny loved them, wearing them whenever possible. Strappy silver and green sandals - a nod to Draco’s former school house - adorned her feet. She knew she looked lovely and wasn’t afraid to show off her figure… which was fortunate, given the material of the dress had molded itself to her body, clinging to every curve.
Ginny also had an ulterior motive to wearing such a clingy dress - she wanted to get Draco all hot and bothered. She wanted him so hot for her that he took her against the nearest piece of furniture as soon as the last guest left the house. Draco Malfoy may have had a lot of faults, but he was undoubtedly the best lover Ginny Weasley had ever had, and just the thought of him taking her roughly was enough to make her body tingle.
She went over to the drinks table and poured herself a cup of spiced rum punch into one of the crystal glasses purchased especially for the occasion. Taking a nervous sip, she willed herself to calm down and enjoy the evening.
But Ginny couldn’t help it. This wasn’t just a Christmas party; it was a very important step in her family’s acceptance of Draco Malfoy as the partner of her choice. She was desperately in love with him (not that she would admit that easily) and although she didn’t need the approval of her family, she very much wanted their blessing. They’d been dating for seven months, and yet this would be the very first time all nine members of her clan would be in the same room, along with their assorted spouses and children. That they had all promised to be there, despite being scattered to the four corners of the universe, meant the world to Ginny. She truly believed this was the first sign her family as a whole had given that they would accept Draco as an honorary Weasley.
Ginny smiled when she thought of her mother, who’d confided a few weeks back that she was knitting Draco one of the infamous Weasley jumpers for him. Ginny wasn’t sure how appreciative Draco might be of such a gift, but she’d persuaded her mother to make the jumper silver and the letter D green. Molly would be presenting the gift to Draco on Christmas Day, so Ginny was keeping her fingers crossed that he would be gracious about it (in public, at least).
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him even enter the room, much less sidle up to her. His arms went around her as he pulled her to him, her back against his chest, and kissed her ear, then whispered into it. “Do you know how sexy you look in that dress?” he growled softly. “It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to bend you over this table and fuck you right here.”
Ginny shivered as lurid snapshots of the two of them bent over the table flashed in her mind. “Don’t do this, not now,” she breathed, her voice almost pleading. Draco was known for being wicked and teasing her in such a manner, telling her how hot she was and how much he wanted her when they were in positions where they couldn’t act on the sparks between them.
“Can you feel how hard I am? How hard you make me?” he whispered, tracing the lobe of her ear with his tongue.
Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but out of nowhere came a very loud rendition of Jingle Bells. Someone was at the door. Thankful for the excuse to get away from him lest she get herself messed up by his wandering hands, she was wondering how she might be able to lure him away later for a quickie as she excused herself to answer the doorbell. Glancing down at her watch, she saw it was only 5.30pm. The guests weren’t due until seven. Curious.
Ginny threw the door open, waving away the half-dozen house elves that sprung to get it (despite her having told them she would greet all their guests personally), and gave the new arrival her brightest smile… until she saw a stranger on her doorstep. He was tall with light brown hair, his features sharp and an air of arrogance around him. Something about him put Ginny on alert.
“Can I help you?”
“Is this the Malfoy residence?” the man asked in a tone Ginny couldn’t describe as anything but snooty, his stare fixed on something that lay beyond Ginny’s shoulder.
“I’m the mistress of the house here,” Ginny said, her hackles well and truly up. “Draco is my partner. Can I help you?”
The man looked down at Ginny, as if noticing her presence for the first time. “You can let me in. I have a party to organise.”
“Excuse me? I think there must be some mistake. There is no party to organise.” Ginny’s tone was harsh, but she couldn’t help it.
Without a word, the man who was obviously a wizard pulled out his wand and a small, flat black disk that transformed into some sort of diary once his wand had been waved over it. He flicked through the pages, moving his fingers in the air to mimic such an action, until he found what he was looking for.
“I can assure you, madam,” he sniffed, “that Gideon Dumaresq doesn’t not make mistakes. I have been hired by Draco Malfoy to cater his Christmas party, so if you’d be so good as to move out of my way, I shall get on with it.”
Ginny was so shocked by this turn of events that she could do nothing but stand to the side as he stepped over the threshold. Once he was inside, he clicked his fingers three times and a stream of house elves not unlike her own appeared out of thin air, carrying trays, cutlery, glassware and crockery into the ballroom, which Gideon seemed to know the location of without any help.
She snapped out of her trance once the last of the long parade of elves ventured into the ballroom, and she followed them in as fast as her shoes would allow her. She found Draco talking to Gideon over against the far wall while the caterer’s elves bustled about. The manor’s house elves stopped working momentarily, staring at the newcomers nervously. Ginny went over to them and gave them a reassuring smile. “They won’t be staying long,” she told Rudolph, the elf in charge. “Please continue setting up and ignore them.”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, giving her a small bow before turning back to his chores. He snapped his fingers once and the elves sprang to life again.
Ginny was fuming. She wasn’t just angry; she could literally feel her blood boiling in her veins. That bastard! He knew she was cooking for the party; he knew it! He was supposed to cancel the bloody caterer that he shouldn’t have even hired in the first place. She wanted to go over there and pull him away or slap his face or something, but she was so angry that she seemed to have been glued to the spot by one of the twins’ Sticky Toffees. So instead, she simply stared at Draco and waited until he looked her way.
She didn’t have to wait for long. As soon as Draco took in the look on her face and the way her hands were balled up into fists by her side, he excused himself and came over. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked in a puzzled tone.
“What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with me?” She asked incredulously. “What the fuck is he doing here? You were supposed to cancel him!”
Draco’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “When did we agree to that, exactly?”
Ginny’s mouth fell open. “You KNEW I was cooking for this party! You saw all the food! I told you to cancel him a week ago when we had that fight!”
“Just because you tell me to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it,” Draco retorted in a low, almost cruel voice. “I want this party catered, so it’s being catered. You can bring the food you made out.”
Ginny placed her hands on her hips, her agitation clear for anyone to see. “That’s not the point, Draco! I made more than enough food for everyone! It’s a waste of money for him to bring more! Get rid of him.”
“No.”
Her mind was spinning; five minutes ago they had been very close to shagging, and now they were facing each other as opposing teams in battle. Ginny could tell Draco wasn’t going to back down on this; well, neither was she.
“Fine!” she hissed. “Have your bloody food here. We’ll see whose gets eaten. And I really hope you enjoyed your night in the spare room last week, because you’ll have plenty of time from now on to get used to it.” Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the ballroom, not willing to let him see the tears that had welled up fall down her cheeks.
~*~
Molly and Arthur arrived a half-hour early at six thirty so Molly could help Ginny out with any last minute preparations. Ginny hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Draco since their fight the hour before, so after long, deep breaths and more than one cup of the spiced rum punch, she was cool, calm and collected by the time her parents stepped out of the fireplace.
“Oh, Ginny, dear!” Molly exclaimed as she shook the soot of her cloak and handed it to the house elf that hovered near her. “It looks wonderful!” She took in the enormous ten foot Christmas tree that was laden with decorations and the myriad presents stacked underneath it; the magical tinsel and various wreaths of holly and bay leaves that hung around the room, changing colour every few seconds, and the numerous pieces of mistletoe placed here and there for those who wanted to indulge in a special bit of Christmas spirit.
“Doesn’t it?” Ginny smiled and kissed her mother’s cheek, then greeted her father in the same manner.
Arthur gave her a quick once over. “You make me feel old, you know,” he said with a smile. “You look beautiful, Gin.”
“Thanks, Dad. Do you want a drink?” Arthur nodded and wandered off to grab himself a drink off a tray one of the elves was carrying, fending off others trying to ply him with appetizers already.
Molly went over to the table that held dishes made from hundreds of years worth of Prewett family recipes, handed down generation to generation. She cast an appraising eye over tables laden with dozens of dishes, both starters and main courses, which included steak and kidney pudding, potato and leek soup, bacon, onion and potato hotpot, bangers and mash with onion gravy, dumplings, Shepherd’s Pie, toad-in-the-hole, Cornish pasties and various roasts and stews. The desserts, which included pumpkin pie, spotted dick, chocolate dipped strawberries, banoffi pie and various puddings, would be brought out once dinner was over. “It all looks delicious, dear,” she said. “I do wish you’d have let me bring over something, though.”
“I told you, Mum,” Ginny said, putting an arm around her mother’s waist. “I wanted to do this by myself.” She tried to put on a bright smile, despite the sadness she felt at yet another argument with Draco. She’d even added two of his favourite dishes to the Prewett family cookbook as her contribution - sauté of beef with wild mushrooms and chocolate bread pudding with bourbon pecan sauce - and both dishes were among the offerings on the menu tonight; now, she wondered if he’d even sample them.
Molly looked at her youngest child properly, into the brown eyes she’d inherited from her father. “What’s wrong?” She looked around and noticed the absence of someone who should have been there. “Where’s Draco?”
Ginny tried to be nonchalant, but her mother’s sympathetic features made her burst into tears. “I don’t know where he is,” she sobbed as Molly pulled her into an embrace. She tearfully explained what had happened as her mother rubbed her back soothingly, and once she was done, Molly pulled back to look at her daughter.
“You just wait until everyone starts arriving, Ginny,” Molly said. “They’ll tuck into your dishes without a second glance at the caterer’s food. Don’t cry, darling. There’s enough room for all the food to be in here, and if people don’t eat Draco’s food you can give it to Ron to take home.”
Ginny giggled in spite of herself; her favourite brother’s appetite was legendary in the Weasley family, and was even more so now his wife was six months pregnant. Fred and George endlessly mocked their baby brother, poking at his stomach and asking him how many babies he was eating for, while Hermione simply rolled her eyes and rubbed her swollen tummy.
“You’re right, Mum,” Ginny said. “We’ll just let the guests decide what they want to eat.”
Molly patted her arm with a smile as Arthur rejoined them.
~*~
At five minutes to seven, Ginny was wondering whether she would have to go in search of Draco when he entered the ballroom. He came over and greeted Molly and Arthur, avoiding looking at Ginny altogether as she gave the tables one last look-over. Everything was perfect.
The doorbell heralded the arrival of more guests, and between the door and the fireplace, Ginny spent the next twenty minutes greeting each new arrival. The house elves scurried around, some taking cloaks and coats and handbags into storage while others served drinks and appetizers. She found herself glancing at Draco every spare second she had as he made his way around the ballroom, greeting everyone in turn. She hated having to host what was supposed to be a happy occasion being at odds with him, but there was no time for them to sort anything out now.
Ron and Hermione arrived at ten past the hour, with Hermione shifting the blame solely on Ron’s shoulders. “We’d have been here on time if Ron had been able to organize himself properly. I’m sorry we’re late, Ginny.” Hermione kissed her sister-in-law’s cheek and Ron followed suit. “That’s a lovely dress! Where did you get it?”
Ron tried not to roll his eyes, instead seeking out a drink, something to eat, and his parents in that order. He sorely wished Harry was going to be there tonight to share the suffering of having to be in Malfoy’s company for a few hours, but Harry was away in Chile on Ministry business and had had to owl his regrets. Ron was half-convinced Harry had planned it that way so he could get out of coming.
“Harry would be here if he could,” Hermione said as she joined her husband’s side, a cup of pumpkin juice in one hand. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and Ron took advantage of her closeness, putting his arms around her as best he could with her tummy in the way and kissed her properly.
“I hate it when you do that,” he whispered against her lips as he pulled away, torn between being irked and thankful that his wife could apparently read his mind.
“I know. That’s why I do it.” Hermione grinned at him, sipping her juice. She looked around, observing her hosts carefully. “Something’s wrong with Ginny.”
“Other than the fact she’s mental for wanting to be anywhere in the vicinity of Ferret Boy?”
Hermione hit his arm. “Stop it, Ron. Show your sister a little respect. If she loves him, then that should be good enough.”
Ron knew his wife better than that, though, and wasn’t fooled. He slipped an arm around her waist. “Don’t tell me you like it any more than I do.”
Hermione let out a breath. “No, of course I don’t,” she admitted softly. “But Ginny’s old enough to make her own decisions and I have to respect them, regardless of whether I like them or not.”
They stood together, watching as Draco made his way around the room, inching closer to them. Finally, he ended up in front of them.
“Ron, Hermione,” he said a little stiffly. He paused before offering Ron his hand, and Hermione was pleased when Ron didn’t hesitate to shake it, even if it was so brief that if you’d blinked you’d have missed it. “Thanks for being here tonight.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Draco,” Hermione said warmly, trying to alleviate the obvious tension.
“How are you feeling?” Draco waved a hand in the general area of her stomach.
“I’m tired a lot more than usual, but otherwise fine, thank you.” She cast her gaze around the room. “It looks wonderful in here, you’ve done a great job.”
“You’ll have to praise Ginny for that. She organized most of it.”
Ron merely nodded, and the three former schoolmates stood huddled together for a few more awkward moments before Draco finally excused himself and left them alone.
Ron breathed out and kissed Hermione’s temple, his hand going down to rest on her tummy as he rubbed gently. The thought that their baby was in there always made him break out in a goofy grin. “Do you want to sit down?”
Hermione reached up, brushing back a lock of his red hair. “No, I’m all right for now, thank you, love. I want to say hello to a few people.” She gave him a lingering kiss, then squeezed his hand and wandered away.
He sighed, wishing that it was already time to go home, but then he spotted more house elves coming into the ballroom, carrying trays laden with delicious food, and he decided that perhaps he could stick around for a bit.
~*~
By 8pm, the party was well and truly in full swing, with the entire Weasley clan in attendance. Small, redheaded beings ran riot, weaving in and out of various huddles. Ginny had been keeping a very close eye on the food and had observed, with no small amount of pride and a little bit of smugness, that the Prewett family dishes had been far more popular than the ones Dumaresq had brought. But then she looked up at Draco, who stood over the other side of the room talking to Pansy, and a wave of guilt swept over her. It wasn’t a competition. She silently thanked Hermione for being diplomatic enough to have taken an equal amount from both as she’d made up plates for herself and Ron.
Her sister-in-law appeared at her side. “This food is just divine, Gin,” Hermione said with a grin. “It’s so nice not to have to cook!”
“You should be making Ron do everything, Hermione,” Gin said. “You should be taking advantage of your pregnancy and letting him do all the work.”
“You’ve eaten things he’s cooked,” Hermione pointed out.
“Ah, yes. Good point. I was lucky to live to tell the tale.”
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?” A low, amused voice interrupted them, and they both turned around to see Harry standing behind them. Hermione said his name in an excited voice and threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could with her tummy in the way.
He held her for a few moments, kissing her cheek as he released her. “Hope you’ve fed my godson well with this magnificent feast on display,” he said with a grin. Hermione just grinned back, and Harry managed to greet Ginny with a kiss before Ron came barrelling over, embracing his best friend.
“Thank God you’re here,” Ron said almost breathlessly.
“I’m sorry the party is boring you, Ron,” Ginny said sweetly. “Feel free to leave any time you please.”
The tips of Ron’s ears turned red, his face a little flushed. “It’s not boring, Gin,” he said in an attempt to placate her, but Ginny just laughed.
“I’m teasing you,” she said. “Harry, help yourself to some food and drink, there’s plenty there. I’ll leave you three to catch up.”
Ron and Hermione waited for Harry to get a plate and a drink, then the three of them grabbed a table on one side so Hermione could sit down.
~*~
Just before the live band Draco had hired to entertain their guests began their set, he quieted the room down so he could make a speech on behalf of himself and Ginny. It was the first time they’d stood near each other all night, and he’d taken her hand in a false show of togetherness. Ginny had squeezed his hand so tightly that Draco was sure she’d cut off all the circulation, so he kept it short and thanked everyone for coming. They then took turns handing out the gifts they’d purchased for everyone, and the next twenty minutes was spent in a flurry of wrapping paper and excitement over the presents.
The band struck their first note at the stroke of nine o’clock, and all the couples got up on the floor to have a dance. The various Weasley grandchildren paired off in groups of two or three, enjoying themselves immensely, and Ginny watched through narrow eyes as Draco held his hand out to Pansy for a dance.
She watched the two of them move into the centre of the floor, Pansy flicking her long, black hair over her shoulder as she openly flirted with her old house mate.
Right, Ginny thought. Two can play at that game.
Looking around, she found her intended target, still seated at a table with his two best friends. Hermione was slumped back in a seat, her stockinged feet up on Ron’s lap while she rubbed her abdomen. Harry and Ron were talking animatedly about something while Ron massaged his wife’s feet, her ankles visibly swollen.
She strode over to them and held out her hand to Harry. “Come dance with me.”
Harry paled. “Uh, Ginny, you know I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, Harry. Please?”
She knew Harry wouldn’t resist the pleading tone of her voice, and she was proven right when he sighed and stood up. “Just one song, okay?”
“Okay.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out onto the floor before he could change his mind.
Their appearance on the dance floor didn’t go unnoticed, and Draco swivelled Pansy around so he could watch them. He didn’t like the way Potter was holding Ginny, or that she was standing so close to him. He frowned, wanting to go over there and punch Potter, but he knew that would be a one-way ticket back to singledom if he did. Damn Ginny.
The song that was currently being played was a slow one, and Ginny’s cheek rested against Potter’s, her arms around his neck and her body pressed to his. Potter’s hands were on the small of her back, his fingers splayed. Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to, and as the minutes ticked on, he decided he wasn’t going to just stand there and let Potter paw his witch.
“May I cut in, please?” someone said, interrupting his train of thought. Hermione Weasley was standing there, a picture of calm.
Pansy opened her mouth, presumably to say no, but Draco got in first. “Sure. Pansy, would you mind sitting this one out?”
Pansy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but was adult enough not to show her displeasure in public. “Fine. I have to get a move on anyway. Thank you for the lovely evening, Draco. I’ll owl you.” She made a big show of kissing his cheek, which got an eye roll out of Hermione, then turned and promptly got swallowed by the crowd.
Draco looked at the woman he’d once relentlessly taunted for her parentage and held out his hand to her, pulling her gently into his embrace. “Had enough to eat?”
Hermione placed one hand on his shoulder, the fingers of the other wrapping around his, and squeezed softly. “Yes, thank you. More than enough.”
“Been enjoying yourself?”
“A lot more than you and Ginny have, I would wager,” Hermione answered quietly. They both looked over to where Ginny and Harry were dancing and watched as Harry leaned down to whisper something in Ginny’s ear that made her brush her lips over his, briefly.
Draco hadn’t realised he’d reacted verbally with a low growl until Hermione’s grip on him tightened. “She’s only doing it to get a rise out of you, Draco,” Hermione said. “Whatever is wrong between you needs to be sorted out privately. You’d be best off keeping your cool until everyone’s gone, and then you can have another of your huge shouting matches. But if you go over there now and cause a scene, Ginny will blame you for ruining the party and things will be even worse.”
Draco took a few deep breaths, knowing Hermione was right. “Still an insufferable know-it-all, Granger,” he said.
Hermione could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t serious and was just having a dig at her. “That’s Weasley to you, thank you. Play your cards right and you’ll soon be a Weasley too.” She laughed as the smug look on his face vanished quicker than Molly’s cooking when Ron got near it.
~*~
By midnight, the last of the guests had gone. Molly had offered to stay behind and help clean up, but Ginny had shooed her away with an embrace and told her the house elves would take care of the mess left behind. And they did, with surprising speed.
Draco had disappeared into his office, presumably to pay for the catering (Ginny had managed to offload quite a few plates of it to Ron, Harry and a few of her other brothers) and the ballroom was spotless by the time he returned. Ginny had seated herself on one of the tables, her legs swaying back and forth in the air.
She looked up as he came into the room, a tendril of red hair hanging loose by her face, and the sight of her was so lovely that he couldn’t help but go over to stand in front of her and brush it back behind her ear.
She sighed softly, closing her eyes at his touch. “I hate it when we fight, Draco,” she said wearily.
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. “So do I,” he said, his voice husky. He regretted that they’d ever had the fight. This should have been a special night for both of them; instead, they’d done their best to avoid each other. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”
Her eyes opened and she stared at him for so long that he began to feel a little uncomfortable. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said it first.”
His mouth curved into what might have been a smile, except it slipped away too quickly to tell. “I should have cancelled the caterer.”
“Yes, you should have.” Her gaze was still upon him, her eyes misty. “I shouldn’t have flirted with Harry to annoy you.”
“No, you definitely shouldn’t have.”
“Did it work?”
“Spectacularly. You can thank Hermione for stopping me knocking him flat.”
In spite of herself, Ginny giggled. “I’m sorry. I really am.” Her face sobered as she slid off the table and stood, both hands in his now.
“I know,” he said, brushing away a solitary tear that rolled down her cheek. “Let’s never fight again.”
“Okay.”
Draco opened his arms and Ginny flung herself into them, and they clung to each other for long, precious moments, everything all right again in their world. “I love you,” he said, his voice so soft that Ginny had to strain to hear it.
“I love you, too.” She tilted her head up and closed her eyes, and Draco obliged her with a kiss; one of his slow, lingering kisses that succeeded in melting every bone in her body. She slumped against him, safe in his strong embrace, and she whimpered when he swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed.
Ginny was more than happy to simply stand still and let Draco undress her, something he did masterfully, placing kisses on her bare skin as each part was revealed to him. She shivered as he laid her down gently on the bed, quickly stripping his clothes off, and then climbed on top of her, his fingers and mouth and tongue teasing and caressing her until she couldn’t stand it.
He then joined them, sliding deep inside her with one smooth stroke, and all Ginny could do was hold on tight as Draco pushed her to the edge once more with his body and his erotic whispers in her ear, and once they were both sated, she cuddled up to him, curling herself around him. He stroked her damp hair, pushing it off her face, and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.
“Now that is a Christmas present I wouldn’t mind unwrapping every night,” Draco said as Ginny was nodding off. She giggled sleepily and kissed him once more before settling her head on his shoulder.
“If you’re a very good boy, you just might get lucky.”
Draco smiled to himself and waited until Ginny was asleep, her breathing steady and even. “I already am lucky,” he whispered into the dark. Then he closed his eyes and followed Ginny into slumber, dreaming of her wearing nothing but a big, green bow.
~*~
Recipe: We went about enthusiastically collecting recipes for all the dishes mentioned, and then we read the rules and noted that we can only submit one! So we hope you enjoy the one we’ve chosen. And yes, we’ve got them all if you want more!
Chocolate Bread Pudding with Bourbon Pecan Sauce
1 1/4 cups white sugar
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 1/4 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup chopped toasted pecans
2 tablespoons bourbon
2 cups whole milk
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup white sugar
8 (1 ounce) squares semisweet chocolate
8 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 pound egg bread, sliced into 1 inch pieces
To make sauce: stir 1 1/4 cups sugar and water in heavy large saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves. Mix in corn syrup and lemon juice. Increase heat and boil without stirring until syrup turns deep amber, brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush and swirling pan occasionally. Remove from heat; pour in 1 1/4 cups cream (mixture will bubble up), stir over low heat until caramel is melted and smooth. Increase heat and boil until sauce is reduced to 1 2/3 cups, stirring often, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat; mix in pecans and bourbon.
To make pudding: preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Combine milk, 2 cups cream, and 1 cup sugar in heavy large saucepan over medium high heat, stir until sugar dissolves and mixture comes to boil. Remove from heat, add chocolate, and stir until smooth. Beat eggs and vanilla in large bowl to blend. Gradually whisk in chocolate mixture; add bread cubes and let stand until bread absorbs some of the custard, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes. Transfer mixture to a 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) until set in center, about 45 minutes. Serve pudding warm or at room temperature with warm sauce.