I'm not really a christmas-y holiday kinda person. But I wrote this several years ago. Found it on my flash drive. Enjoy. It's kinda "It's a Wonderful Life/ Christmas Carol" all rolled into one. And it's PG! I don't do many of those! Extra bonus! (: Well, my normal readers will understand. And yes, my update for the usual chapters is on it's way, just needs to be proofed.
Enjoy. And enjoy the Holidays, for those that do.
A Gryffindor that Almost Wasn't
DM/HG, PG
Draco Malfoy had been having one of those days.
The professors were all giving extra classwork because of the Holiday Break coming and he knew he would be working on it through most of his break. Not like he had anything better to do, or anywhere else to be.
His father was dead, and the newly widowed Narcissa was spending the winter in Monte Carlo, so he was stuck here for the Hols.
To add to Draco's bad day, there were elves running all over the castle delivering packages and creating general disorder, while spreading Holiday cheer. He already didn't care for Christmas, and his foul mood just made it even worse.
Or so he thought.
He walked into the Heads Quarters, ready to sit down and get started on his schoolwork.
When he walked into the Common Room that he shared with the Head Girl, he knew that studying would be a challenge.
The Head Girl had taken it upon herself to throw a party. There were decorations all over the room. There were stockings in front of the fireplace and even a gigantic tree. It was covered with hundreds of tiny lights and shiny metallic pieces. There was an old fashioned phonograph in the corner of the room, and it played some stupid cheerful music. He knew all of the people in the room, and a majority of them were Gryffindors.
Draco looked around the room in stunned disbelief. How dare she do this without even asking him? Not like he would have said yes or anything. His eyes finally found her, and his gaze narrowed as he saw how happy she looked, laughing with she-Weasel and Longbottom. She must have felt his gaze on her because she turned her head, and looked at him. She quickly approached him, concern crossing her face.
"I'm sorry, Draco... I thought you would be in the library a bit longer." Hermione tried to explain rather quickly.
"Well, guess what? I'm here." He pushed past her, towards his own chambers. He quickly shut his door. He noticed two packages wrapped in festive colors sitting on his bed, and he felt his blood begin to boil as he realized that Hermione had been in here too. He swept the packages onto the floor, and walked over to his wardrobe. Digging into the back, he found the bottle of Dementor's Whiskey that had been on his mind all day. He took the bottle and entered the portrait that would take him straight to the Slytherin common room.
It was relatively empty, and when the few students who were there saw Draco, they quickly left for their own rooms. Draco took the best seat in front of the fireplace and fell into it. He took a long swig of the liquor, feeling it burn on its way down. He pulled out his wand and motioned towards the fireplace, creating a roaring blaze. He took yet another swig as he watched the flames dance, and tried not to think about the woman who was seriously pissing him off. A part of him wished that Hermione Granger had never been born.
Hermione Granger had been basically kissing Draco's ass for the beginning of their Seventh year. He would think that she would have taken the hint when he never said thank you, when his only response was to grumble and walk away. This wasn't the first time she had done something like this either. Once, after a very long Quidditch match, Hermione had gone into the bathroom that they shared and she had run a hot bath for him. He had to admit that it was a very nice gesture and all, considering that it had been raining during the entire match. He had never been so cold in his life. But he shrugged his shoulders and went into his room, ignoring the hurt look on her face.
He wished he could explain why he hated her so much. He had never been really fond of her in the first place. She was a stupid muggle born witch. It was her and people like her that were destroying his noble blood line. She was the worst know-it-all ever. He really hated the fact that she was always the best student. No matter how hard he studied or how much work he did, she always did more.
The newer, nicer side of Hermione had shown herself shortly after Draco's father died. His death had been rather suspicious, since he had died in Azkaban. Draco himself had convinced the Ministry of Magic to launch an inquiry into his Fathers death that had so far proved inconclusive. Draco wondered to himself if Hermione had anything to do with it, or the wonder brat Harry Potter. But he knew what the rest of the wizarding world thought of Harry Potter, and knew that even if he did have something to do with it, nothing would ever happen.
Draco took another swig from the bottle, thinking of all the things he would love to do to Hermione Granger, when a strange voice came from behind him.
"Now, now, now... It can be dangerous to have thoughts like that about someone." The voice said. Draco turned, already a little sluggish from the alcohol.
A spirit stood in front of him now. But this wasn't one of the normal school ghosts, at least not one that he had seen before. It held more of a shape that the others did, and it was dressed a little differently too. Draco squinted, almost wondering if he was hallucinating. Or maybe he had drank more than he thought. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the fire.
The spirit sat down on the couch next to him. "Glad to see you too Draco Malfoy. In fact, I didn't want to see you at all. We drew straws and I lost. Lucky me."
Draco turned to the apparition with a look of incredulity."Drew straws? For what?" The ghost before him made no sense, not that they ever made total sense.
"To see who got stuck visiting you. Ghosts and Poltergeist Union Number 13666." The ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out a card that he flashed at Draco, before returning it.
"Could you get to the point of your visit? I'm kind of trying to get drunk here". Draco told him.
The ghost had to smirk. "Let me introduce myself. My name is 'The Ghost of Christmas Past.'" The spirit extended his hand, and Draco reached for it, but stopped.
"Wait a minute. Ghost of Christmas past? Oh that's a good one. Oh, let me figure this out. You're here to show me the error of my ways, and you're going to take me back in time and then there will be two other ghosts who will all take me to a different Christmas, right? Rubbish." Draco took another swig off his bottle, and tried to ignore him.
The ghost sat still for a moment, trying to collect himself. He had been told of the Malfoy temper; it was quite legendary actually, even in the spirit world. He had heard some stories of what Lucius Malfoy had done, and none of them were too pleasant. He knew that Draco was going to be a tougher customer than any of them had expected, and decided to switch tactics.
"Nope. Wrong. Like I already told you, I was just the unlucky one that got forced to come and deal with you. The ghost in the Charles Dickens story was actually my uncle." The ghost leaned backward into the seat, and proceeded to put his feet up on the table in front of him. Draco raised an eyebrow at this, but did not turn his head.
"The spirit world has decided to grant you a wish. A wish that we heard you make to yourself only a short time ago." The ghost told him.
"Really? And what would that be? And since when can spirits read my mind?" Draco asked, looking at the ghost now.
The ghost smiled, knowing that he know had Draco's full attention. "We can do a lot of things that you probably don't want to know about. Now, as for your wish, all we need for you to do is speak it out loud, and it will be done."
Draco sat up now, taking interest. "You'll have to refresh my memory. I wish for a lot of things."
The spirit sat even closer, matching his gaze with Dracos. "A wish about a certain witch who really annoys you."
"Granger?" Draco looked excited now. "I think so many different things about her, it's hard to pick just one."
"Alright. Let me make this a little more clear. All you have to do is say it and I'll snap my fingers and Hermione Granger will have never existed."
A smirk crossed Draco's face. "That's it? No catch? Just say the words and she will be gone?"
The ghost nodded.
The look on Draco's face was the most evil thing that the spirit had ever seen.
"I wish Hermione Granger had never been born."
"As you wish." The spirit snapped his fingers and tried to return the smile.
A slow fog covered Draco's brain, and he felt himself drifting backwards into the chair. As he began to drift to sleep, his last conscious thought was that a very funny joke had just been played on him.
Draco woke up, thinking how strange his dream had been. 'Bloody realistic too'. He glanced around his room, wondering how he gotten back here. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the Slytherin common room. He flung the sheets back and sat up, putting both feet onto the cold floor.
He went to the adjoining bathroom and took a quick shower. The heat of the water woke him fully, but the dream from last night remained fresh in his mind. Wouldn't it be great if it hadn't been a dream?
He began to towel himself off as he walked back into his room to get dressed. Now that he was awake, he saw a change in his room that he hadn't noticed before.
The colors of his room were different. The accent colors of his room had previously been silver and green. They were now black and red. The change was enough to make him stop in his tracks and study things carefully. Had someone carried his dream a little too far? He rather liked the color scheme of the Slytherins, thank you very much.
He decided to get dressed and head to the Great Hall for breakfast. He had a feeling that once he got there, he would see Hermione sitting at the other end of the room with the rest of her annoying friends, and some of his fellow classmates laughing and pointing in his general direction. He was going to have a very long talk with the portrait that guarded his room to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again.
He reached into his wardrobe for a clean set of clothes, and found the same changes in color. This was starting to annoy him now. Someone had taken this joke a little too far. Changing the colors in his room was one thing. Changing the color of his attire was another thing altogether.
Draco was caught off guard when he stepped out of his quarters and found a very different Hogwarts. The portraits that seemed to line every wall were nearly gone. A few scattered the walls here and there, but they were different portraits than he ever remembered seeing in the hallway before. Gone were the pictures of animals, flowers and children. Now there were dragons, vampires and mummies. The only women in the pictures were prostitutes, who called out to Draco as he walked past. He politely refused, and the women began to call him names.
As he got closer to the Great Hall, Draco's confusion deepened. There were very few other students in the hall, something he found most odd. At this time of day, the halls were generally busier. He made his way to the door of the Great Hall and walked in.
That was when he realized that was definitely not a joke. This was real. Hogwarts as he knew it was no longer.
Where before the Great Hall had four tables, there was now only one, and it ran down the middle of the room. He stopped and stared at the changes to the room he had known for almost seven years. Gone were the banners of each of the four houses. Now there was only one banner.
The banner of the Death Eaters. The Dark Mark. There was a large black skull upon a red background.
Draco felt someone standing at his side, and turned.
"Problem, Malfoy?" a voice asked.
Draco suddenly realized that he was drawing some attention to himself. He preferred to blend in and see the new changes to his environment. He also knew that Death Eaters were an extremely paranoid bunch, and a gesture as simple as taking in his surroundings could have him tortured and killed. Only spies stared like he was.
He made his way to table and took the first open seat. So far, so good. He took some food, and began to eat, trying to see what was going on without making it obvious.
He recognized a majority of the students around him. There were a few new faces, and he had reason to believe that they might have been students from Durmstrangs. After searching the room over several times, he noticed that he couldn't find any one from any of the other houses. No one from Ravenclaw, no one from Hufflepuff, and most definitely no one from Gryffindor.
He smiled to himself, and began to eat with a renewed interest. Maybe today wouldn't be such a bad day after all.
A short time later, some of the other students began to get up and leave the hall, presumably leaving for their classes. Draco got up, starting to follow suit, before he realized he wasn't sure where he was supposed to go. Had his class schedule changed? Suddenly feeling very self conscious, he bent to tie his shoe. He casually glanced around, and noticed that Goyle was waiting for him. He stood and walked towards the person who he hoped was his friend. To Draco's relief, Goyle took the lead and began walking towards their first class.
The rest of Draco's day had been anything but smooth. In his first class, Advanced Potions, he had failed to do his homework and earned himself a detention, along with several stares from fellow students. His second class, Advanced Dueling had ended when he woke up in the hospital wing. The next class, hand to hand combat left him with a similar end result.
After being released from the hospital wing for the second time, he made his way to the Great Hall, anxious to get lunch. When he walked in the huge doors, he was met with suspicious stares and loud whispers. He found the seat nearest to him and tried his best to ignore it.
As he was eating his lunch, he saw a face that he did recognize. His father. Alive and well, and giving his son a look of suspicion. One of the professors was whispering into his father's ear, and his father's eyes seemed to narrow at each word. Draco tried his best to ignore it and continued eating his lunch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father push himself away from the teachers table, and make his way to his son. He stopped directly behind him and waited for his son to acknowledge him. Draco turned and in the snobbiest voice he could manage, said "Yes?"
"A word, Draco. In my office." Lucius stepped back, waiting for his son to follow suit. Draco made an exaggerated movement and stood as well. The older man started walking out the Great Hall, apparently towards his office.
They had no sooner walked out of the Great Hall, than Lucius spun around and grabbed his son, shoving him against the wall, hard. The man's large hands were wrapped around Draco's throat, as Draco coughed and fought to breath.
"I am your father and your Headmaster and you will show me respect, boy." The older man's face was that of pure fury. "You'll do well not to forget that." He released Draco and threw him to the ground in the same movement.
Giving him only a second to catch his breath, Lucius crouched down in front of him.
"I've heard some disturbing things today, son. Your fellow classmates say you've been acting strange all day."
Draco rubbed at his throat, trying to bring back some sensation so he could respond to the man towering above him. His mind was still spinning as he fought to get much needed oxygen to his brain. He knew he had to respond, and quickly.
"I... I..." He stuttered, struggling to make a coherent sentence.
"I'm waiting boy. And I'm getting more impatient by the second." Lucius spat at him.
"I'm just feeling off today. I... I drank too much last night." Draco told the older man, knowing that it was a lame excuse and hoping that his father just might fall for it.
He didn't.
"I don't care how much you drank, or what you did last night. All I know is I don't like the things that I am hearing. You are drawing unnecessary attention to yourself, and that attention reflects badly on me. I don't like to be reflected badly. So you had better fix whatever is wrong, and do it now."
"Perhaps I will go to my quarters and rest." He told his father.
His father sneered an approving gesture. "Very well. I shall inform your instructors." The eldest Malfoy turned and walked out, his robes billowing behind him.
Draco sat on the floor, trying to figure out what to do now. He needed to understand what was going on, and blending into his surroundings wouldn't be an option, unless he wanted to find himself dead.
Draco went to the only place he thought might help him.
The library.
This library was much the same as the one he had grown up in, except for that Filch was behind the long counter now. He nodded at the man, and continued on his way, hoping that this was a normal form of acknowledgment.
He went towards the section that he knew as the general knowledge area, thinking that this was the best place to start. He located Hogwarts: A History right away. The book was the same that he remembered, except for the last chapter.
Hogwarts would have stood for another thousand years, if it hadnt been for the return of the Dark Lord in 1992. With the help of a few of his loyal followers he was able to break into the bowels of the school and appropriate the legendary Philosophers Stone, which grants immortal life, as well as unlimited gold. Once the stone was in his possession, he was easily able to take over the school, which has been marked by most as the beginning of the Great War.
In the following years, the Dark Lord was able to take over other key wizarding targets, including Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The battle ended when the Dark Lord took over the Ministry of Magic in the Spring of 1997.
The book ended there, and Draco quickly reread the short passage. In 1992 Voldemort had taken over the school. How did that happen? He had been at the school in '92. He remembered hearing a rumor about a stone that granted immortality, but the rumor said that the great Harry Potter had kept it for himself. This stone that was mentioned has to be one in the same. But it said that the Dark Lord found it in the school. Maybe Harry wasn't able to steal it first, in this reality.
He skimmed the book several times, trying to find out anything that would help him to be able to adapt easier, but didn't find anything. He scanned the shelves and didn't find anything that he thought might help. Switching tactics, he thought that he would try to find out what had happened to Potter and Weasel. Maybe they had been killed in this war that was mentioned.
Draco quickly went to some of the darker shelves in the back of the library, looking for a student directory of some sort. He found some ancient ones, from back in the time of the founders, but nothing that was more recent.
He failed to notice that several students had passed by the isle that he currently occupied, giving him suspicious glances. After all, when the Headmaster's son is acting strange, and the Headmaster himself tells the Professors that his son will not be in classes for the rest of the day, word spreads quickly. The people that were prone to gossip were now curious why he was in the library, someplace that Draco Malfoy would never be found.
Draco scanned the nearby isles, still not sure what he was looking for. The titles werent anything that he was really familiar with. He saw one that caught his eye, and he pulled it out of the shelves. It was called Those who Fought the Dark Lord, and failed. It had been written a few years ago by a Tom Marvolo Riddle. He opened the book, skimming the pages.
He finally found what he was looking for, towards the end of the book.
The last failed battle that the Dark Lord fought was against the famous Harry Potter. He had been known as the only person to ever survive a killing curse. The ignorant boy and his best friend, pureblood Ronald Weasley attempted to stop the Dark Lord from acquiring the Philosophers Stone. They were killed by a three headed dog that guarded the entrance to the underground chamber where the stone was being hidden.
Harry Potter had died? But how was that possible? So if both of the books were correct, Harry and Ron had been killed in their first year, and Voldermort had taken over shortly after that.
Draco fought to find the answer. It had to be right there in front of him.
Potter died.
Weasley died.
Voldemort took over.
The answer came to him so quickly, it was almost painful. If Hermione had never been born, that meant she had never come to Hogwarts. It meant she had never met Harry or Ron. That was why they had died. Hermione had always been the brains of their team, and had stopped them from doing stupid things. Except this time, she hadn't been around to stop them or save them, and they had been killed.
Draco closed the book that he had been holding open, and returned the book to the shelf.
A large arm wrapped around his shoulder, startling him.
He turned to find Blaise standing next to him.
"Shite, you scared me mate." Draco said, relieved that it wasn't his father.
Blaise glanced at the book that Draco had just returned. "Those who Fought the Dark Lord . You're not getting any funny ideas, are you Draco?"
Draco's blood suddenly ran cold when he realized what Blaise was implying. A statement like that, made to the wrong person could cause a lot of serious problems.
"Uh, who me? Are you crazy? Some first year left it out and I didn't want one of these young punks to get their hands on it." Draco replied, and knew that it was a flimsy excuse. Blaise gave him a look that showed his skepticism.
Blaise turned and left the library and Draco knew without a doubt that he had just gotten himself into a lot of trouble.
Draco walked towards the front of the library, noticing for the first time the number of people that were paying attention to his every move. Trying to ignore it, he quickly left but then paused when he realized he wasn't sure where he wanted to go.
He didn't think he was safe anywhere in the castle, but he didn't really want to go outside either. There was no telling what he would find out there.
The only place he could think of going to, was the place where it all started. His quarters.
Walking quickly and ignoring the people that acknowledged him, he put on his best Malfoy face and tried to take the most direct route, soon realizing that this was a mistake. The news of Draco's behavior had obviously spread through the entire school, because he was stopped at every turn.
Draco eventually broke into a run, knowing that he was bringing even more attention to himself. The urge to return to his quarters was now stronger than ever.
He turned a corner and saw the doorway to his quarters. He had almost reached the door when his Father came around the other corner. Blaise was standing directly behind him, as well as several other men that Draco knew as Death Eaters. His Father was walking rather quickly and all of the men had raised their wands in his direction. Draco quickly shut the door, and then cast every shield spell and locking jinx that he could think of. He knew it would only buy him a matter of minutes but he also knew that if his Father got to him, he was as good as dead. No one would ever buy his ridiculous story.
He ran into his bedroom, locking and shielding that door as well. Frustrated, he started to pace. He was looking for something that would tell him how to make everything normal, but what?
The spirit. The spirit that visited him the night before. Did he really exist, or was he just an alcohol-induced figment?
'Hey, what could it hurt? Im a goner anyway.' He thought to himself.
"Hey! Spirit! I dont want to be here anymore!"
No response.
He could now hear the pounding and shouting against his outer Quarter's door, and knew that time was running out.
"You! I know you're here. Get me out of here!"
Again no response.
He heard an explosion in the outer chamber and knew that they would be at the bedroom door in a matter of seconds.
He threw himself down onto his bed in frustration and started to pound his pillows
"Damn it! I wish I'd never said that!"
The door burst open and Draco felt the familiar burn of a Crucio rip through his body.
"Hermione! I'm sorry!"
"Draco? Are you alright?" He felt a hand barely making contact with his shoulder and sat straight up in bed.
He struggled to take in his surroundings. They had changed again. His room had the familiar green and silver accents just as he has remembered. His uniform was the same color it had always been.
And on top of all of it, Hermione Granger sat on the edge of his bed, looking very concerned.
"I'm sorry," she said as she began to stand up. The look on face was now that of fear. "I heard you calling my name and your door was unlocked."
Draco reached for her before she could step back farther, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Hermione! You're alive!' Draco practically shouted. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again!"
Hermione tried to push him away, but then realized it wouldn't work. He was holding on much too tightly.
"Malfoy, I'm really sorry about the party and all that earlier. I should really take the hint, shouldn't I?" Hermione said.
"Hermione, I should be the one apologizing. I've been so terrible to you." Draco hugged her to him, and noticed the packages that Hermione had left for him, still on the floor where he had swept them. He released Hermione long enough to pick up the packages, and then returned to his spot on the edge of the bed. He opened the first one and found a beautiful monogrammed cashmere sweater. He finged the embroidery and looked at Hermione.
"I made it myself. The whole sweater, that is. Monogram and all," she blushed as she told him.
"Its great! And it's my favorite color. Thank you so much." He smiled at her, and then picked up his second package. He quickly ripped off the paper and found a picture of himself with a beautiful frame. He remembered the photo well. He was standing on the Quidditch pitch in his uniform, the snitch held high above him. It was taken after the only game where he had made the winning catch. The look on his face was that of pure joy.
"Where did you get this?" Draco asked, fingering the image.
"I found it, actually. Colin had snapped it and didn't ever realize it. He had just thrown it in a box, and I happened to find it in the bottom. Do you like it? " she asked, even though she knew she didn't need to.
His smile was suddenly replaced with a frown.
"Hermione, I feel terrible now. I didn't get a single thing for you." Draco told her, honestly feeling upset.
"Don't worry about it Draco. You've already given me my present." She reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it firmly. "Happy Christmas, Draco."
She stood and walked towards the door. He stood and walked up behind her. He had just started to call out her name as she spun around. Without thinking, Draco took her face in both of his hands and brought her lips tenderly to his.
~fin~