A/N: I have unfortunately been too busy this week to get the next chapter of GPaTBWL ready so here's a drabble I wrote for the hpgw_drabbles December challenge to tide you over. The challenge was to write a 300 word story using 3 words from the twelve days of Christmas song. I chose true, dancing and golden.
I hope everyone is having a great and happy holiday with friends and family. Sending big hugs and happy thoughts to you all.
Happiness doesn't come from mooning around all the time, Ginny told herself in as stern a tone as she could manage. True happiness comes from standing up, putting yourself forward, making things happen. It doesn't involve dancing around someone you like. Not that she liked Harry anymore, oh no. No. That's not why she'd felt a stab of excitement slipping in under the cold, hard fear when McGonagall told her Harry had 'seen something' about her father. That's not why she could feel his eyes every time they rested on her all through that long, miserable night. She was just overwrought by ... things. That's all. Things like Michael.
Michael. Right, yes. Her boyfriend. Her eyes strayed to the mistletoe hanging dustily in Sirius's kitchen. Harry was sitting directly under the small bunch, playing exploding snap with Ron, but she didn't care about him. She didn't care that he had a girlfriend, who he had kissed under mistletoe. After all, she had a boyfriend who she had kissed, too. Not under mistletoe, to be fair. But she had kissed him and she'd liked it. Her gaze flickered back and she saw Harry smiling at her; that golden promise of a smile that she loved. She looked away in embarrassment.
It's Christmas, she told herself sternly. Dad's still not well, and you're just upset about that. You don't have these weird feelings because Harry's right there under the mistletoe and you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. After all, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.
She glared at the small plant. It's all the mistletoe's fault. Definitely.
Harry and Ron looked up in startled confusion as Ginny cast a spell that burned the mistletoe from its place. She smiled as the tiny ashes fell down around them.