Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's very important note: The following stories are single stories that have been requested for Christmas. Some are light fluff pieces, others are darker angst pieces; I've left the requests at the top so you can determine them for yourself. Of course, as more than one person has requested stories, the ships are different. Not all of them were Draco/Ginny, but all of them were Draco/someone else or Ginny/someone else, so they're all going in one big Christmas present bundle. I hope you enjoy them as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and have a great New Year!

...

For Lisa94

Category: Romance

Ship: Draco/Hermione or Draco/Ginny

Request: Hermione wanting Draco to wear the red and green Christmas socks that she knitted for him as an early Christmas present because the elves of S.P.E.W. got socks too (but just like Draco they don't want to wear her socks) even Crookshanks is wearing them, not willingly though / Ginny wanting Draco to wear his Christmas socks made by Molly because he made fun of her sweater last Christmas (this one sounds cuter)

...

In a split second, Draco's face betrayed his real thoughts on receiving the knitted gifts. Molly hadn't seen his expression thankfully, but Ginny had been watching his reaction closely and saw the utter revulsion that passed across his face. By the time he looked up from the socks, he was smiling (well, more of a smirk, really. Did the man even know how not to smirk?!) and somewhat pleasant once more, thanking Molly for her gift profusely. Molly had become slightly flustered at the praise, but blamed her bright cheeks on the heat from the kitchen.

Once they'd been properly fed and had come to the end of their patience, Draco and Ginny made their excuses and Apparated home. (Draco couldn't handle arguing over the same Quidditch topics over and over. Ginny couldn't really blame him for that; the Chudley Cannons were having a very bad season, and as Keeper, Ron felt compelled to argue for himself and his team relentlessly, 'We're in it for a fair game. But the rest of them, they're bloody cheaters, they are. There's no way that Quaffle would've got past me otherwise!')

"So, are you going to wear the socks that Mum spent all of that time knitting for you?" Ginny asked later that evening, quoting back some of his earlier praise.

"Of course not."

"And why not? You were absolutely gushing over them this morning," she pointed out.

"That's because I didn't want to be rude. You know how I feel about knitted garments, Ginny," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I do know. You made that quite clear last year."

"You're still going on about that?! It was twelve months ago! Three-hundred and sixty-five whole damn days; it was said, I apologised, and you're still holding a grudge?"

"When my boyfriend tells me that I look like a Pygmy Puff lit on fire, of course I'll still hold a grudge," Ginny snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that... I was just trying to say that it probably wasn't the best choice of colours, and it didn't suit your complexion very well," Draco said, treading carefully even though he was pissed off that they were going to go through this yet again.

"To make up for it, you should put the socks on so I can criticise you too," she said with a well-learned smirk.

Realising that she'd just played him, Draco relaxed slightly. "Not happening, Weasley. I don't ever intend on wearing those horrid things."

"If you don't put them on right now, I'll make you eat the damn things," Ginny threatened, brandishing her wand.

"You wouldn't make me eat them," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

"Want to bet?" Ginny asked, keeping her wand trained on him.

"They're going to be itchy, they're an awful colour, and I absolutely refuse to wear them. There's nothing you can say or do to make me wear them. Or eat them," he said smugly.

Ginny glowered at him. "If you don't wear them, you're not getting sex until my birthday," she threatened.

"That's eight months away!" Draco said incredulously.

"Yep, and I don't think you'll be able to wait that long for me," Ginny said with a smirk.

Draco glared at her for a long moment, but then his expression turned into a broad and knowing smirk. "I'll bet you couldn't last eight days without wanting me, let alone eight months."

"Eight days? Of course I can; I'm not a sex maniac like you," Ginny said with a snort.

"All right then... How about this? You jump me by the end of the year - that's six days, rather than eight - then I don't have to wear these things. In fact, I get to throw them in the fireplace and dance around the smoky remains."

"And if I don't 'jump' you?" Ginny asked, trying her hardest not to laugh at the idea of Draco covered in tribal markings and jumping around the fireplace.

"Then I'll wear them for a whole week," he said with a delicate shudder.

"No sneaky underhanded tactics, you hear me, you snake?" she said, glaring at him.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco replied smoothly. "Although, if I have to wear these hideous things, then you have to wear the sweater."

"You hated that sweater," Ginny said.

"I know, and I still do. But if I have to look ridiculous, then so do you."

"Not happening, Draco. I threw the damn thing away anyway," she replied flippantly.

"Oh, did you now? I'm sure your mother would be very interested to know that tidbit," he said, smirking at her.

"Crap," Ginny muttered.

"Fine then, if I win, I get to burn the socks and I'll find something else equally as horrible for you to wear. If you win, then I'll wear the socks for a week. Agreed?" Draco asked, offering her his hand.

"We'll start tomorrow, I'm still too full from lunch to even attempt this tonight," Ginny muttered.

"All right, we'll start tomorrow," Draco agreed, and Ginny finally shook his hand.

...

Waking up, Ginny tried to keep her eyes closed for a moment longer, denying that it was daytime until the bitter end. She frowned slightly when she felt fingertips trailing down her thigh. Draco rarely woke up before her, preferring to sleep until mid-morning if he could.

"What're you doing?" she mumbled, reluctantly opening her eyes to look at him.

He was smirking at her, a suggestive smirk that conveyed exactly what he wanted.

"Shove off, it's too early," Ginny muttered, pushing his hand away.

"Good morning to you too," Draco said, moving her chin up to kiss her.

As their tongues tangled and fought for dominance, Ginny remembered the bet they'd made the night before. Draco was already trying to get her to lose! Well, it wasn't a bad way to lose, really... But she wanted to win, just to see him in those damn socks. Pulling away, Ginny patted his cheek condescendingly.

"Good try, but no wand."

"Damn. Well, bugger this then, I'm going back to sleep," Draco muttered, promptly turning over and falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Ginny never could wrap her head around the fact that he could fall asleep so quickly. It was inhuman, that's what it was. Muttering under her breath, Ginny got out of bed, unable to deny or prolong the day any longer. Unlike her boyfriend, she couldn't fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

Going to get changed, Ginny had an idea that would have her winning the bet without much effort at all. Draco had always loathed the selection of Muggle clothing that she liked to wear around the house. He hadn't said anything about it, but it was obvious in the way that he always stood away from her, watching but not talking unless he was directly asked a question, that he didn't like the clothes on her. Grinning, she started to dig through the closet to find her Muggle clothes.

...

An extra three hours of sleep were exactly what Draco needed. He woke up feeling refreshed and more than ready to continue their little bet. The fact that Ginny had actually willingly bet on shagging him was something that Draco felt a bit smug about, really. He'd either set fire to the socks (and then shag Ginny), or get shagged by a lustful and gorgeous redhead. Either way, he'd win.

Humming to himself, Draco went into the bathroom and showered. He contemplated getting dressed, but knew exactly what Ginny thought of him while he was wearing nothing but a towel. She licked her lips, her eyes following drops of water as they slid down his body, and he could almost see the dirty little thoughts that played in her imagination.

Smirking, Draco Apparated downstairs. A bit surprised to see that Ginny wasn't in the dining room as he thought she would be, he called for one of the house elves.

"Miss Ginny is in the library," he was informed, the house elf not even batting an eyelid at Draco's attire, or lack of.

The library was only down the hall, and as he wanted to save his energy for all of the shagging they were sure to be doing, Draco just walked down rather than Apparated. He opened the door of the library quietly, stepping inside and looking for Ginny. Where she was holed up would depend on exactly where he should stand. If she was on the window seat, then he'd lean up against the table; if she was sitting on the armchair, then he'd have to stand by the fireplace; and if she was in the shelves somewhere, then Draco would just move up behind her, press a kiss just behind her ear and then hold onto the bookcase for dear life.

Spying a shadow nearby, Draco moved behind the door so he wouldn't be seen, and waited to see where Ginny would sit. On seeing her outfit, Draco's entire body froze. Oh, good gods, he thought they'd agreed there'd be no underhanded tactics?! She was in a pair of Muggle jeans and one of those ridiculous shirts that exposed one shoulder. He'd always loved her in those clothes, but had never been able to admit it, and had simply stood back to admire the view. The denim cupped her arse, his hands aching to do the same; the shirt loose on her frame, but he knew every curve beneath the material; and her shoulder, showing one strap of her bra just drove him insane with need, the need to bite, kiss, claim her creamy white shoulder as his own, even as he fucked her against the closest surface.

Well... There was nothing in their bet about him being the one who jumped her. He was meant to make her want him, not the other way around, damn it! Knowing that he'd never win while he was in such a close proximity to Ginny when she was wearing those clothes, Draco stepped back, the library door closing quietly. He was silent as he Apparated back upstairs for a very, very cold shower.

...

Well, that was a waste of time, Ginny thought to herself sourly. It was lunch time now, and she'd yet to see Draco. The bastard was probably still asleep!

"Any chance you're planning on getting dressed?" Draco drawled behind her, making her jump in surprise.

"What the hell, Draco?! You scared the hell out of me," she muttered, glowering at him. "And no, I don't plan on changing. I'm comfortable in these clothes. Why? Do you have a problem with me wearing them?"

He coughed slightly before answering. "No, no problem at all."

"What are you wearing?" Ginny asked, finally looking at him properly.

Draco smirked, knowing he looked damned fine, if he did say so himself. He was wearing silk pants and nothing else, and he recognised the lustful expression on Ginny's face as she surveyed him, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips.

"Why? Like what you see?" he asked, smirking at her again.

It took Ginny a moment to compose herself long enough to answer. "Of course not. Those pants make you look ridiculous," she said, barely managing to convince herself.

"Ridiculous? Really?" Draco said, looking over her and taking his sweet time to do so.

Gods damn it. A day hadn't even passed, yet she was already ready to jump him.

"Yes," Ginny replied, though she barely convinced herself.

Draco smirked again, that damn infuriating smirk that made him look ten times sexier than usual, and he moved towards her. Ginny stepped back, knowing that all was lost if she came into close proximity with him. Draco seemed to sense that, and with a knowing grin, he backed her up against the wall, his hands on either side of her head as he trapped her. He heard her gasp, knowing from experience that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and moved his head so that he kissed her, his lips hard against hers. Ginny all but melted against him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him in return.

"So, are you going to let me burn those blasted socks or not?" Draco asked, kissing his way down her neck.

He pressed his body up against her, making sure that she'd feel every inch of him and what she'd done to him. Her and those stupid Muggle clothes.

Ginny moaned under his ministrations, her body arching against the wall to get even closer to him still.

"Yes, fine. Burn the damned things. Just don't you dare stop," she groaned.

Ginny kissed him heatedly before leading him upstairs, Draco grinning smugly the whole way.

In the end, Draco decided to keep the damn socks anyway.

...

End of present.

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!