A/N: This is the third installment in my "Twelve Days of Ficmas" series. These fics can be read as a standalone, but the narrative is constant throughout them all. If you would like to read the series from the beginning, start with "Cocoa With a Classmate." Next up is "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" This is just a series of cute quick-writes to help me work out of writer's block. Today's prompt was "chestnuts or ice skating." Thank you for reading.


The world was ending, that was the only explanation.

Hermione had gone on a date with Draco Malfoy and it wasn't terrible. It was rather pleasant, actually, and she was ashamed to admit it. A whole week had passed since their date and not a word from him. Owls fly both ways but writing to Malfoy would mean Hermione wanted more. That thought was still too strange to grasp.

She walked into work on Monday morning to see a small box atop her desk. Hermione sat in her chair and shut the door with a wave of her hand, shivering in the cold. Years as Senior Undersecretary and they still hadn't fixed the fact that her office was always freezing. Beneath the box was a copy of the new Witch Weekly. Hermione pulled it out with shaky fingers and laughed at the headline.

Malfoy and Granger: Shagging at Last

There were no photographs of the two of them together, so the cover was just a splice of separate photos with a small photograph of a broken table in the lower-right corner. Hermione chucked it in the bin. She had a fairly good idea of what the article would say and turned her attention to the gift on top of her desk.

The wooden box was small with a bright green bow on top. Hermione opened it to reveal two of the largest chestnuts she had ever seen, along with a note.

Hermione,

I have shown you my pear and I would now like to introduce you to my nuts. I would also like to see you again. If you feel the same then name a time and place.

-Draco

She laughed. They did communicate best in jokes and sarcasm. He always had a good sense of humour, when it wasn't turned on Muggle-borns and her friends, that is. But he had written! He wanted to go out again, but Hermione didn't. How could they possibly figure out what was happening between them with literally the entire wizarding world looking on?

Ron stormed into her office just before lunch.

"Did you go on a date with Malfoy?!" he shouted. Hermione did not look up from her parchment.

"Yes, Ronald, I did. Anything else is none of your concern."

"Did you shag him, like that article said?" he asked. "Because if you did—"

"What?!" Hermione looked up at him and angrily threw down her quill. "If I did, then what? You'll challenge him to a duel for my honour? We are not engaged anymore and you have no claim over who I choose to spend my time with. It was a nice date, Ron. Just leave it at that."

He ground his teeth together and took in a deep breath.

"Are you going to see him again?"

Hermione nodded and said, "Yes, I hope so."

.oOo.

Tuesday was hellish. Draco woke up late, tripped over a house-elf as he was trying to grab some breakfast, and broke a teacup all before lunch.

An owl knocked on his study window around noon. Draco opened the window and watched as the owl flew inside to sit a medium-sized box in the middle of his desk. The owl quickly flew away and Draco shut the window behind it.

He had received plenty of hate mail but it petered off years earlier as his charitable giving increased and the animosity toward him waned. Draco had a habit of only opening packages if he knew what awaited him inside. He hesitantly approached his desk, leaning over just the slightest bit to glimpse the penmanship but it was unfamiliar.

The box was wrapped in green paper covered in little Snitches. Draco undid the twine and lifted the lid to see a plate full of gingerbread cookies. They smell wafting up from the box was fresh and his stomach grumbled in response. There was a note on top and he plucked it out of the box.

Draco,

Your large, round nuts were impressive. I am unavailable for lunch this week so here are some gingerbread men to keep you company.

See you soon,

Hermione

Draco laughed and bit the head off the biscuit in his hand. She had her flaws but Granger could bake. The gingerbread wasn't too stiff; the cookies had little icing mittens with chocolate chips for eyes and buttons. It was the most delicious snack Draco had in ages. He pulled the plate out of the box and sat it on his desk. By day's end it was half-empty.

.oOo.

Hermione walked into her office on Wednesday to find another package on her desk. Ministry maintenance wizards still hadn't figured out the cause of the incessant chill. Hermione suspected it was the room's retribution for having to house Dolores Umbridge for a period of time. She reluctantly shrugged off her coat and placed it in the closet before sitting behind her desk.

The box was wrapped with blue paper covered in snowflakes. A silver bow connected a note to the top of the box.

Hermione,

My friend, Tracey, makes these in her spare time. I remember you complaining about your office and thought you could use one. Perhaps in the future I will find another way to keep you warm.

-Draco

Hermione rifled through the tissue paper to pull out the softest fleece blanket she had ever touched. She ran the fabric through her fingers and smiled. Blue was her favourite colour and the blanket was a deep royal blue. She threw it around her shoulders and smiled as she read Draco's note over again. As of late, Hermione found that merely thinking about Draco seemed to tick the room's temperature up. How could she possibly one-up him after something so thoughtful?

Someone knocked on her door and Hermione shouted, "Come in!"

Minister Shacklebolt opened the door and Hermione yelped before hurriedly knocking the box off her desk. He laughed heartily at her failed attempt at discretion.

"Who is your mysterious suitor, Hermione?" asked Minister Shacklebolt. Hermione felt her face go hot and she tightened the blanket around her.

"I think suitor is a bit presumptive," she admitted. "We are figuring each other out. Are the packages too much? I know personal deliveries shouldn't be sent through Ministry mail, but—"

"Quite alright, Hermione," he said. His smile did not waver. "I trust you know what you are getting yourself into. And that does look like an expensive blanket."

"He said his friend made it," Hermione replied. "But it does feel rather luxurious."

"Ah! It is a he!" Minister Shacklebolt clapped his hands together excitedly. "Might this be the same he who graced your side on a recent cover of Witch Weekly?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"The office has a pool going on it, don't they?"

"They do," Kingsley admitted. "But I will not tell them a thing," he said with a wink.

.oOo.

Draco was fairly certain he had won whatever little gift-giving competition he and Hermione had begun. He stood by the fireplace since even the manor was unable to fully escape the mid-November chill. The fleece blanket cost ten Galleons and that included the you-are-my-husband's-best-mate discount. Draco didn't hesitate because Hermione needed it. However this thing between them ended up, it was clear they were working their way toward a decent friendship. Friends don't let friends go cold, and boyfriends certainly don't let their girlfriends go cold. When Draco gave it some thought, he was surprised to find that was the direction he wanted their relationship to go.

The same owl from Tuesday knocked on Draco's study window Thursday evening. The package in its talons was so small that Draco took it and the owl did not even enter the manor before flying off. Draco tossed the green box between his hands and sat in one of the armchairs, convinced this was Hermione's concession. He tore off the paper and opened the cardboard box. Hermione's note had been stuffed into one corner.

Draco,

The blanket is lovely. I never expected something so thoughtful from you and it took me an age to figure out a comparable present. I spent most Christmases at Hogwarts and everything is different since the war, so sometimes I like to look back on what Christmas used to be. My mum and I used to make these when I was little. Your move, Malfoy.

-Hermione

Draco pulled his gift out and stared at it. It was clearly a Muggle craft, but it was sort of ingenious: a snow globe made from a jar. Draco liked to imagine Hermione rooting around in her cupboards to find a spare jar just to one-up him. There was a Snitch suspended in the middle of the jar with its wings outstretched. When Draco shook it glitter rained down like snow and the wings fluttered. She had used a bit of magic, then.

He could see it clearly, Hermione and her mother at their table every December making snow globes out of jars. Hermione accidentally gluing her fingers together or spilling glitter all over herself. She probably searched for weeks to find the perfect object to go inside her creation, because Hermione Granger never did anything halfway.

He shook the snow globe one more time and placed it on his desk. He watched the snow fall, some of it catching on top of the Snitch and its wings. If they were going for sentiment, Draco had the perfect reply.

.oOo.

Hermione expected the package at her desk on Friday. She did not, however, expect it to be so small. Wrapped in red paper covered with snowmen, Hermione was anxious to see how Draco tried to top her gift. Once she was nestled into her chair and had her blanket snug around her shoulders, Hermione tore open the box to reveal … Another box? This second box was made of wood, and when Hermione opened the lid it was lined with orange fabric. Draco's note was attached to the top.

Hermione,

I want to see you make one of these snow globes, and I would bet my entire Gringotts vault you'd have glitter stuck in your hair for days. You showed me a part of your family, so I am giving you a piece of mine. This is one of the Malfoys' earliest Christmas ornaments. It is from the seventeenth century, made in Germany, and I think it belongs on your tree more than it could ever belong on mine.

Happy gifting, Granger.

-Draco

Hermione lifted the ornament out of the box and nearly dropped it she was so shocked. The craftsmanship was stunning. Attached to a loop of silk was a fully-grown Phoenix ornament made from glass. Hermione rotated it ever so slowly and it cast reflections of coloured light against the walls.

Draco had given her a piece of his family history. This was more than a peace offering, more than simply trying to best her at gift-giving. Draco Malfoy was offering to be part of her life and Hermione wanted him in it.

.oOo.

A different owl came to Malfoy Manor on Saturday afternoon. This one carried a box that was large and square, wrapped in plain brown paper … And it was delivered to Draco's mother. Stupid bloody owl. When Draco walked into the parlor for tea he saw his mother there alongside the box. His heart sank at her expression of disapproval.

"Draco, would you care to tell me why Hermione Granger has sent you a package?"

"Because she is my friend," Draco snapped. He sat in the chair across from Narcissa and pulled the box into his lap. He undid the twine and pulled Hermione's note off the top of the box.

Draco,

You began this week by bringing a smile to my face. Then you gave me warmth. Then you gave me something irreplaceable. I intend to return the favour. Here is something that should make you smile, bring you warmth, and something that no one else can give you.

Try topping this.

-Hermione

Draco folded the paper down and could not believe his eyes. His mother gasped and he found himself speechless. Inside the paper was a glass box. Flames leapt up from a solid ring of cherry wood nestled at the bottom of the box. The heat did not transfer to the glass and it was not burning the wood. The ring at the bottom was merely a placeholder for everlasting flames.

"Is that … Gulbrathian Fire?" Narcissa asked. Draco had no words so he simply nodded. His hands shook around the box so he placed it on the table in front of him. "She can create Gulbrathian Fire?!"

"You will find there is very little Granger cannot do," Draco replied.

"This is invaluable," his mother said. "Only a truly remarkable wizard could even attempt this spell, let alone control it well enough for it to work! Dumbledore could do it, but I know of no other wizard who can."

"Hermione is magnificent, of course, but she thinks she won," Draco said. "She believes she is a better gift-giver than I am."

"You cannot top this, Draco," Narcissa said. "If you have been in competition, she has beaten you and I am not upset about it." She leaned in before muttering, "This is remarkable. I have never seen Gulbrathian Fire up close. Merlin, I would never have expected … And from a Muggle-born no less! We must schedule a celebration and flaunt this in front of our friends. We could use it as a centerpiece at the table! Then they have to look at it through the entire meal."

Draco sighed heavily. If his mother was on Hermione's side then he had truly lost.

Unless …

.oOo.

There was no word from Draco on Sunday morning. Hermione was disappointed when she did not hear from Draco on Sunday afternoon. Perhaps it was just a fun competition and it meant nothing to him. But his gifts had been so thoughtful …

Someone knocked on her door at six o'clock that evening. Odd, since Hermione was not expecting visitors and most of her friends used the Floo. She padded over to the door in her red jumper, old jeans, and the socks that looked like penguins. When she opened her front door, Draco Malfoy was standing on the threshold with a bag and a silver bow stuck to his coat. He held up his bag so Hermione could see the top of a wine bottle, a baguette, and presume that more food remained hidden inside.

"Dinner?" he asked.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hermione nervously replied. She tried to pull down the cuffs of her jeans with her feet to cover what she could of the penguin socks.

"Isn't it obvious?" Draco asked. "I am your next gift."