Chapter 1 imprisoned

Okay, she'd admit it. She hated Christmas. She absolutely and utterly hated it. She couldn't see what all the others found so fantastic about Christmas. Hermione stared out of the window. Of course the snow was fun, and the castle looked beautiful, except for the mistletoe. She had been trapped now seven times. Some boys seemed to lock themselves up with her on purpose, below the mistletoe. The magical way of trapping two people by invisible walls and only freeing them when they kiss was the idea of Dumbledore. It was his worst idea ever. As was the idea of the person who came up with the idea of creating Christmas.

'Hermione, can you give me a hand?' shouted McLaggen from downstairs. As if she would be fooled by such an easy trick, she knew down the stairs hung a mistletoe.

'No I can't give you a hand, because I have to take care of Crookshranks now,' she yelled back. McLaggen had pushed her already twice under the mistletoe, she had fooled him by placing on both the confundus charm. She took a brush and started to brush Crookshranks very fluffy fur. It was the worst time of the year; Christmas time. There seemed to be some sort of curse on the Christmas days. There was a reason why she hated Christmas. No, she couldn't think about that this moment. She continued to brush the cat. Crookshranks only seemed not to like it and jumped away. Hermione threw the brush back in the trunk and jumped up from her bed. She did her tight dress right. She was trying to get used to the feeling of this dress and heels, she would wear tomorrow. Ginny had chosen it together with her. This black dress and silver heels with ties had been both their favourites, but Ginny had practically forced her to buy a new dress at all.

What would she do now? She would go for a stroll. It was almost curfew and in the corridors nobody would hang around anymore. She didn't have much time left, but it didn't matter. At the end of the stairs she carefully avoided the mistletoe and exited the common room through the portrait hole. She let her feet carry her away. The castle was even more beautiful when it was dim lit. Her shoes clicked on the cold stone floor and the candles made shadows on the walls.

She walked around the corner and smashed into something soft and fell on the ground. That was strange; usually nobody came in this corridor. She looked up and saw familiar blond hair. Why him? Why did it have to be him? Like Christmas hated her too! She stood up again and tried to walk away, again she bumped against something, hard this time. An invisible wall. No! Not with him! She looked up at the ceiling, she was right. High above their heads hung the innocent looking plant. She looked back at the blond haired boy.

'I'm not going to kiss you!' they said in unison. She pulled out her wand and cast a spell on the mistletoe. Nothing happened. Robbed of her last hope she sat down on the floor leaning against the invisible wall. She stared into the dark corridor, trying to ignore the fact she was locked with Malfoy.

'Already gave up, Granger? I'm not used to the fact you give up,' he sneered and sat down opposite of her.

'Shut up,' she said not really convincing. 'I'm already having a disastrous Christmas and I don't need you to make it even worse. I gave up 'cause I know there's only one way left to get out of this mess. Mostly I managed it to get away with only a confundus charm, but this one seems more powerful than the seven I had before. It's getting really annoying this idea of Dumbledore, especially if you're me.' She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her chin on her knees.

'You had seven mistletoes?' said Malfoy surprised. 'Probably all with Weaselbee and Pothead.' He snorted.

'No,' she sighed. 'I only once accidentally came trapped with Ron. Oh, and for a dare I had to charm mistletoe so I would lock myself up with Ginny, but that wasn't that bad. I got pushed below the mistletoe by Cormac McLaggen twice, terry Boot, and two boys whose name I don't know. I hate Christmas.'

'Why do you hate Christmas?' asked Malfoy.

'Why should I tell you, Malfoy?'

'Because we need to spend much more time in this stupid place and I think we'd better spend the time doing something than just waiting until somebody finds us and lifts up the spell of the mistletoe. Besides, it's not like nobody knows you don't like Christmas.' He had a good point. She hated to admit it but it was true.

'Alright, I'll tell you. Do you believe that when somebody dies he can change something in this world forever? Or to let something happen once in a while for example once in a year or a century?' Malfoy shook his head. 'Well I do. 'Cause ever since my mother died on the second day of Christmas all three Christmas days something awful happened. When I was eight, something, probably me, caused a magical explosion in our house and it collapsed. It took us the other two days of Christmas before we could find a place to stay. When I was nine I met the woman that's now my stepmother. I hate her, did then already. But by that time she was only my father's girlfriend. She stayed with Christmas and I had to be polite and nice. When I was ten years old, my dad proposed to my stepmother on Christmas Eve. The next two days I had to help that awful woman planning the wedding. Then came my first year at Hogwarts, my dad got an eye infection and he got blind during the Christmas days. Second year; I was having the great risk for getting killed by that stupid giant snake and spent the entire time in the library trying to protect everybody. In the third year I had that enormous fight with Ron, so he didn't speak to me and we were afraid Black would enter the castle and kill Harry. Fourth year Krum wanted to kiss me and I pushed him away. He caught me the first day of Christmas under the mistletoe and the next day there was an article from Skeeter. In my fifth year Umbrigde gave me a detention during the entire holiday, and every day before she let me write with my own blood she tried to get information about Dumbledore's army from me by using the cruciatus curse on me. And this year I'm trapped under the mistletoe with you and Christmas holidays haven't even begun! That's why I hate Christmas!'

She could see at his expression he was quite impressed. But he didn't answer. She just stared back at him and they quietly leaned against their wall. It was silent again. Then suddenly the wall moved and pushed her forwards. She almost tripped, but luckily she saw Malfoy had exactly the same problem. Hermione sighed and sat back on the floor. Why had her mother done this to her? She leaned back and sighed once more. She stared at the ceiling, and the mistletoe. Oh, how she hated Christmas. She closed her eyes. It was late and she would wake up when somebody came, or when they were released. Slowly she drifted of to sleep.

She walked up the stairs slowly. Her father had said her mother wanted to see them both. She opened the door to her mother's chamber. Her eyes rested for a moment on her tired looking father before looking at her mother. Though she wasn't older than 32, the pale skin, thing fingers and slow movements of her mother made her look at least forty years older. They all knew she wouldn't have much more time left. But Hermione didn't want to think about that. She just didn't want to. Of course she knew there was no denying, but just avoiding it would be safe. Her mother lifted her hand very slowly and the movement was weak. Hermione took her hand and smiled at the woman. Her mother smiled back before her eyes darted to her husband. Then her eyes returned to Hermione.

'You're going to be stronger than me or your father can ever be. I'm so proud of you. I love you both so much. And even though you'll never see me again, I'll never leave you, I'll be reborn somewhere in your hearts. Because love is something so powerful you can't destroy, or deny it. And eventually everything will fall into place, if necessary with a small push.' And after these wise words Monica Granger closed her eyes. Hermione felt the grip on her hand loosen and the breath of her mother weaken. She looked at her father with sad eyes. It took a few seconds before he looked up and their eyes met. The seven year old Hermione started to cry, tears streamed down her cheeks. Edward Granger walked towards her and Hermione got pushed forwards.

She woke with a start. That stupid mistletoe-wall had pushed them forwards again. She thought back at the nightmare. She got it every Christmas. Every Christmas she had to watch her mother die. A tear rolled down her cheek.

'Why are you crying?' asked Malfoy when a tear dripped on the stones.

She quickly whipped the tears from her cheeks: 'I didn't cry.'

'Yes, you did.'

'No, I didn't.'

'Yes, you did.'

'Okay, I cried. And now just shut up,' said Hermione madly.

'Why did you cry?' his voice was a combination of indifference with a caring undertone, but Hermione didn't pay much attention to it.

'For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, you've been calling me a mudblood for the past six years! I think that's enough reason to not tell you everything!'

'But I've been trying to be a better person. And this is our first conversation without calling names at each other. I've been trying to show you I'm not that bad ever since the start of this year.' Hermione thought very hard, and surprisingly he was sort of right. He hadn't insulted her since the start of this year. No mudblood, no bookworm, no teachers pet, they had argued, but he hadn't insulted her that way. And in fact she actually liked the arguments now, without the name calling. He was at her level of intelligence and she liked being challenged. What was she thinking! They were still talking about Malfoy.

'No. I think you've hurt me too much in the past years. If you knew this, I would break down at every confrontation so, I'm not going to tell you,' she said stubborn.

'Granger, its Christmas!'

'So what? I hate Christmas! You need a much better reason than that for me to tell you!' Silence fell between them. Hermione looked at her feet. She was tired, but she didn't want to go to sleep either. Her mind was full of questions and she couldn't stop thinking about this Christmas.

'Do you want to know why I've been such a jerk?' Malfoy's voice startled her. 'It was my father. My father hates Potter, mudbloods and the Weasleys, and he hates them more that he loves me, so I was forced to act like that. I didn't really hate you, I mean, how could I possibly hate you? I mean, you're funny, pretty, nice, and the first person ever who could outsmart me. Of course I was jealous of your cleverness, but why would I hate you, just for that? And this summer my father told me he wanted me to become a deatheater. At the end of this year it's going to happen, and I can't do anything about it. I'm thinking about going to Dumbledore, but there's also a problem with that. So I'm trying to find help, but I don't know from whom.'

Well, this is my new fic. I've never tried to write a Christmas fic before, but I hope you like it. Please let me know and REVIEW!