A/N So this is set during seventh year, but before the events of HBP. Let's just say Dumbledore's death happens after all this, and the horcrux search begins once they've left Hogwarts. It's Christmas time at Hogwarts, and this is based off the prompt from . . "Draco teaches Hermione to dance. Use the quote "What about your mother?" somehow in the story."
As the Heads of Hogwarts, both Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger thought it best to stay at school during the Christmas holidays. They had a responsibility to look after students who remained at Hogwarts, to oversee the holiday season and continue their prefect duties. At least, that was the excuse they gave to whoever asked. Truth be told, neither had any family to celebrate with or family they wanted to celebrate with. The Grangers were still in Australia, obliviated into ignorance about the wizarding world and their very own daughter. The Malfoys, while still aware of their son's existence and pending duty to fulfil for the Dark Lord, had bigger things to worry about than providing their son with comfort and warmth during the holidays. Which is what left Hermione and Draco at Hogwarts together for several weeks in December. Although they shared a dormitory, they never spoke unless they absolutely needed to, usually regarding prefect's rosters or Quidditch schedules. They did, however, seem to have telepathically agreed that name calling, Mudblood and ferret specifically, were something of the past, a childish stab at each other's insecurities that had no place in their lives anymore.
Besides, Hermione no longer held hostility towards Draco. Too much had happened, too many things seen. And sharing a dormitory with someone you hated proved to be too much work for the both of them, so they just gave up on it.
Due to the small amount of students who had stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays, all students were asked to sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for meals. Hermione, while vaguely knowing a few people sitting next to her, usually stuck her nose into a book during meals, ignoring those around her as she let her mind escape. Draco avoided her completely, as he always had. One day however, found Draco running late for dinner, due to writing detention slips for two first years who thought it funny to hit him with a snowball. As he arrived in the hall, out of breath, he found there was only one available sit left. Across from his dorm mate. Hermione looked up as he sat down, amused to see the usually calm Malfoy looking so flustered and out of place.
"Left your fridge running, did you?" she sniggered, feeling unusually confident as she spoke to the boy across from her. He shot her a glare, before taking a swig of pumpkin juice.
"Finally realised Scarhead and Weasel King don't need you anymore?" he hissed back, with a triumphant look on his smug face. But as her face fell, and her eyes began to cloud with tears, Draco felt an out of place pang of guilt. He knew he had touched a nerve, and for the first time, tried to make amends rather than make her break down.
"I'm heading up to the dorm. Want me to leave the fire on for when you get back?" he said in a way of an apology. She raised her eyes from her book, just long enough to give one swift nod, before continuing to read. As he headed up to the room, he wondered how long he'd started taking Granger's feelings into consideration. He shrugged the thought away as he got ready for bed. And although he'd never admit it to anyone, it was the same thought that nagged him the following morning, as her singing from the shower slowly drifted into his bedroom.
In the days that followed, a subtle changed had occurred in the way Granger and Malfoy interacted with each other. While passing her on his way out of the dorm, Draco's hand brushed against hers, enough times to make her believe it couldn't possibly be an accident. He began getting to dinner a few minutes late on purpose, just so he could choose a seat close to her. Even Hermione began surprising herself. Whenever she went to the library and saw him studying, she'd take a seat at the same table. They never spoke, but simply did their own work in silence, acknowledging the other with a nod or half smile. Numerous times, Draco mentally told himself to get his shit together. To stop and think about why he was acting the way he was. He refused to accept the fact that he might be interested in the girl he spent so many years hating. Instead, he reasoned it down to the fact that they had to be comfortable enough around each other to successfully work as Heads of the school. Hermione herself had the same troubling thoughts. She reminded herself that she was just lonely without Ron and Harry, and Malfoy was the closest person to her- geographically anyway. That had to be it, right? There was no way Hermione could possibly be developing a soft spot for Draco Malfoy.
One night, when the pair were both hanging around the dorm lounge room, Draco reading a book on potions that he discovered in the library, and Hermione making a list of decorations she needed to organise for the upcoming Christmas dinner, Draco began thinking about why Hermione remained at Hogwarts. Admittedly, there was a tiny part of him that was glad, but Hermione had parents, and there was no doubt there'd be Christmas celebrations at the Weasel's house.
So without giving himself enough time to over think it, he simply asked her "So, why are you here, instead of with your loving Muggle family?". A hint of agitation and deflation passed over her delicate features, as he saw conflicting emotions well up in her eyes.
"Stay out of my business, Malfoy", she responded coolly, making another note on the pad in her lap. He scowled at her, before snapping his book closed.
"Why so blatantly rude, Granger? I'm merely curious as to why you'd choose to stay here, over celebrating this fantastic holiday with your awesome Gryffindor pals", he replied sarcastically, his dry tone evoking malice in her eyes.
"And you're the only one who gets to ask questions? Why are you here, Malfoy? Mummy and daddy decided they don't want you anymore?" she uttered. Before waiting for the resentful look in his eyes to pass, Hermione stood up, and with a quiet "Good night" under her breath, she made her way up to her bedroom.
A few days later, Draco got back into the dormitory late from patrol duty. Expecting Hermione to be in bed, and the dorm to be dark, he cast a quick Lumos before muttering the dorm password and entering. He was surprised however, to find Hermione dozing on the couch, with a roaring fire warming up the room and two cups of hot cocoa sitting on the coffee table. As Draco said Nox, Hermione stirred and finally sat up to find a very confused Draco standing over the couch.
"Oh. Hi", she started awkwardly. He raised his eyebrows, asking for an explanation.
"Well, I knew you had to patrol tonight, and that it was freezing in the corridors, and that it'd be nice if you could come back to a nice, snug dorm and a cup of hot chocolate, and I was supposed to be in bed when you got back, but I guess I was really tired from helping Hagrid with the gnomes today…and I'm talking too much. I bet you really just want to go to bed now, right? Sorry, but I just- I wanted to apologize for the other night. I like things better when we aren't always at each other's throats, and I wanted things to go back to how they were before- I'm going to bed now", she said abruptly to end anymore rambling, as she saw an uncomfortable Malfoy waiting for her to stop talking. She stood, cast a reheating charm on Malfoy's hot chocolate, grabbed her own mug and began shuffling away to her bedroom. But as she passed Malfoy on her way to her bed, he reached back and grabbed her free wrist. She let out a surprised gasp, but didn't say anything as she waited for Malfoy to speak.
"Granger…", he started shakily, "thank you". He'd said it so quietly, Hermione almost thought she imagined it. But with his hand still wrapped around her wrist, she simply murmured a "you're welcome" under her breath, and continued on her way to her bedroom once he released her. As he heard her bedroom door swing close, Draco let out a long sigh, sat down on the couch, and let his head fall into his hands, wondering what to do about the growing problem that was his affection for Hermione Granger. And once he began sipping his hot cocoa, he found himself wondering what she would taste like.
On Christmas morning, Hermione woke up to four presents- a knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley (as was expected), some new hair product that had just hit the market from Ginny, various chocolates from Honeydukes from Ron, and from Harry, a Remembrall that had been charmed to turn the smoke inside a different colour depending on what she had forgotten. She made a mental note to thank Harry with a proud smile on her face, because with O.W.L.s coming up, plus keeping up with her Head Girl duties, Hermione's memory wasn't as sharp as it had once been. As she opened the chocolates from Ron, Hermione couldn't help but wonder what her parents were doing. Mere metres away in his own bedroom, Draco had received presents from both Snape and his parents. Snape had bought him books on Occlumency and the Dark Arts, with a note attached that basically told him to study up and prepare himself for the times ahead of him. With a disgusted shudder, Draco pushed the books aside, and opened the small silver and green box that lay at the bottom of his bed. It was a pair of black leather gloves, presumably overpriced and unnecessarily luxurious. His mother had also attached a letter, warning about numerous things. I know you're living in close proximity to that Mudblood girl, she wrote, but your father and I both expect you to completely disregard her existence as you always have. To do otherwise would be dangerous for all of us, and is ill advised. His top lip curled up in contempt and with a quiet Incendio the letter burst into flames, dropping to ashes on his bottle green carpet. He cleaned it up, placed his books from Snape on the shelf, left the gloves on his bed, and made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Later that evening, Dumbledore was holding a Christmas evening dinner in one of the larger classrooms used for practical lessons such as duelling. Draco didn't plan on going, not when he had so much to read and study, but he knew Hermione would be there, by the way she had put all her time and effort into helping Dumbledore organise it. So Draco got dressed and headed downstairs. He was early, but it gave him the chance to look around at Granger's handiwork. The main colours were green and red, and while representative of Christmas, Draco also thought of them as he and her, Gryffindor and Slytherin, working together to create something beautiful. He pushed away the completely cheesy thought, and inspected the room. There was a large Christmas tree in the back corner, decorated with hundreds of candy canes and technicoloured lights that spun around it. The snow falling disappeared inches above everyone's heads, and the tables were decked out with punch bowls full of eggnog and platters of roast turkey, potatoes, gravy and cranberry sauce, dessert bowls with Christmas pudding and brandy sauce, with Christmas crackers vacating any free room on the tables. There was some traditional Muggle song playing in the background, something about reindeer with red noses, and mistletoe had been charmed to drop from the ceiling whenever two people were standing alone. Overall, it looked beautiful. Even Draco had to admit that. But something else gained his attention. It was Granger. But, it wasn't, at least not what he usually associated with her name. She was wearing a knee length, dark red dress that only had one twisted strap. Her usually uncontrollable hair had somehow been tamed, into soft, smooth curls that had been framed messily around her face. She looked relaxed, perhaps a little anxious as to whether everything would go smoothly, but as she made her way past Draco to get a drink, he realised he had been staring, and ordered himself to stop.
When he got bored of staring at his feet, he looked up to find Granger standing with a group of other 7th years, so he slowly started walking towards them, trying to find a spot within the circle they had formed in the centre of the room. He slid in beside Hermione, trying to remain undetected to everyone else, as he greeted her with a "Granger", as he let his eyes roam over her body. She looked towards him, and noticing the way he was looking at her, the corner of her mouth slightly turned up. "Malfoy", she replied, before turning her attention back to the topic of conversation within the group. Seamus was the one currently talking, loudly with several unneeded hand gestures. "Me dad hurt himself durin' his last job at a construction site, right? Says he don't want me home 'cause I'll get in his way. Fair, I suppose, although I wish I could've seen 'em for a day or two", he explained. Hermione felt her stomach drop at the thought of her own parents. Fay Dunbar, Hermione's old dorm mate, started talking. "My parents begged and pleaded for me to come home, and I was going to, but I couldn't leave him all alone for the entire holiday season, could I?" she said, snuggling closer to her new beau, Cormac McLaggen. He pulled her closer, and they began snogging in front of everyone. Hermione scoffed in disgust, but thankfully the only person who seemed to have heard her was Draco, who snickered under his breath in response.
It was strange, but Hermione seemed to find some sense of comfort in having Malfoy there. He made her feel less alone, like she had at least one person watching her back. However, not even Draco being there could keep her standing amongst the group once Lavender started complaining about her parents telling her to remain at school to study over Christmas. With a small "excuse me" as she backed away, Hermione ran out into the hall. How dare Lavender complain about her parents? How dare any of them complain about their parents? The anger welling up inside Hermione lead to a Confringo spell at the opposite wall, and as bit of rubble fell around her, she heard a pensive breath from behind. Spinning around, wand still in hand, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin it's only you", she muttered. "Only me? I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered, Granger", he replied quickly, smirking at the destruction behind her.
"Malfoy, I don't want to do this right now. I'm not in the mood to bicker with you. I want to be alone, so bugger off". In most situations, he would have taken this as an invitation to stay and cause her discomfort, but there was something in voice, in her tone that made him stop and really look at her. The ease she had displayed before was gone. Her face was now tense, her hair looking dishevelled, tears of anger or sadness gathering in the corners of her chocolate brown eyes. And as he took a metaphorical step back and looked at her as a whole, he could almost feel her magic crackling around her with each second that passed. His face softened slightly, the smirk being replaced with a look of… concern?
"Granger, what's wrong? Cormac pissing you off or something? I know you used to have a thing with him…" he rationalised. Bringing up Cormac was obviously a mistake, as the hand holding her wand slightly tightened, the whites of her knuckles more pronounced. "Yes, Malfoy. I'm so heartbroken over losing the interest of a dog like McLaggen, that I simply had to escape before hexing them both to Styx", she replied coldly, sarcasm heavily lacing her words. "Well if it isn't him, what is it?". He stepped closer to her, but she moved back slightly, keeping a safe distance between them. "My parents", she bit out, avoiding his gaze, and looking down at her wand instead. "Ah, those good old Muggle folk. I have been wondering why you've chosen to spend these holidays with me, over them. Not that I can blame you…" he replied, hands swiping up and down to gesture at his body. Within a second, she was standing right in front of him, her wand at his throat, the hatred in her eyes burning into his own. "It would be in your best interest to shut your mouth right now, ferret", she hissed. He stared at her for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. Thankfully, they were interrupted… with a piece of mistletoe gradually descending over their heads. Hermione looked up, and back down towards Draco, only just realising how close they were to one another, her nose almost touching his, and his hands wrapped solidly around her waist. With a shake of her head, Hermione was ready to back away, but Draco had already advanced forward, and with one of his warm hands cupping the side of her face, the other on her back, he leaned down gently to fulfil the mistletoe's, and his, Christmas wish.
The second their lips came into contact however, Hermione's hands were pushed against Draco's chest. "What do you think you're doing?!" she screeched, wiping her hand over her mouth in disgust. He looked bewildered, a faint shade of pink gracing over his delicate features. "I-" he started, without knowing what excuse to give for his sudden overbearing feeling of lust for the girl standing in front of him. "What, you think mistletoe gives you the right to just kiss me like that?!", she demanded. Still in shock from her actions, and his own, he simply closed his gaping mouth and waited for her to finish what he was sure would be a long lecture.
"Malfoy, you and me are not friends. We're nothing of the like. You bullied me for six years straight. Six fucking years of being called inferior to you and your pea-brained friends. Six years of wishing I was born to different parents…" she confessed, stopping herself from saying anymore, for the water in her eyes was threatening to fall, and she refused to cry in front of anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. "And I'm sorry for everything I've done. They were my parents prejudices, not mine. Since I was born, I've been trained to hate you. To be disgusted by you. But now, there's not a single ounce of disgust in what I feel for you", he whispered, once again moving closer to her. She let out a quiet snigger. "What you feel for me? Malfoy, I'm in love with Ronald. And even if I wasn't, and this whole thing," she started, gesturing between them, "made some sort of sense to either of us, what do you think Harry and Ron would do once they holidays were over, huh? They'd probably kill you and completely cut me out of their lives. And I can't let that happen. They're my family", she finished lamely, trying to remind herself why she couldn't let herself develop feelings for the blonde boy in front of her.
It was Draco's turn to snigger. "You want to talk about family?! I got a five page letter from my parents this morning. No Merry Christmas. No "be safe". No. I got five pages telling me to remember my allegiance to him," he said darkly, referring to He Who Must Not Be Named. "I got countless reminders that Muggleborn are not equal to us, in any way shape and form. That I had a reputation to uphold, and any conversations I had to hold with you for our Head duties were to take place in private so no one would know we actually communicated civilly. Merlin, you're worried Weasel boy and Pothead would break off all communication with you if they found out?! Don't talk to me about 'family'. My parents would break my fucking neck if they knew I was falling for a mudblo-", he let out. He stopped himself at the last word, regretting it immediately, as a heaviness filled the air. Before he had a chance to try and take it back, he felt a harsh sting on his face. It wasn't the first time her hand had come into contact with his face, but this time round hurt more for some reason. Probably the ferocity of the feelings behind it. Hermione wasn't sure if she slapped him for the use of that derogatory word, or at him finally labelling his inappropriate feelings towards her. They both stopped for a few seconds, both breathing heavily as they looked each other in the eye.
"Now tell me what was upsetting you earlier. I want to know", he ordered. She was taken back. No retaliation for hitting him, no further words on his 'feelings' for her, whatever they might be. No, just genuine concern in his voice. She let out a harsh laugh. "Let's just say my parents couldn't break my neck even if they wanted to". Confused, he began to ask her what she meant when she continued. "My parents have no idea who I am", she whispered.
Still confused, he tried to comfort her. "Come on, Granger. They might not understand the whole 'magic' thing, but they know who you are inside", he tried softly. "No. No. You don't understand", she said, tears beginning to stain her cheek. "They really don't know who I am. If you asked them who Hermione Granger was, they'd look at you like you were crazy. They have no recollection of me at all", she explained. Draco was in front of her, wiping away some of the tears that troubled her freckled face. "What happened?", he wondered out loud. "I obliviated them. And I'm at Hogwarts, because I have no parents to go visit, but Harry and Ron think I'm with them now. I avoided going to the Burrow because I didn't want to be reminded of family. But here we are, hiding outside from a bunch of people complaining about the parents who won't kill them or who still remember them. It just… it made me so angry," she growled under her breath, her hand scrunching into a fist. Draco tried to console her with a hug, but in her anger, she just pushed him away. "And I did it because I wanted to protect them from your master. So don't you dare try and comfort me now!", she snarled. "Granger, I'm didn't know", he swore, offering a hand to her.
She looked down at his outreached hand, trying incredibly hard to resist the temptation to grab it and pull his face to hers once more. It wasn't fair of her to blame Draco for her decision to obliviate her parents. In fact, staying at Hogwarts and spending time with him had been a great distraction from all her other problems. Sure, spending time with him in itself was another problem, but she welcomed it. She must have welcomed it, or else she would have put a stop to this… thing weeks ago. She really should have stopped it. No matter how greatly their feelings developed, or how much they cared for one another, there was no way this would end well for either of them. Not when they were who they were. Too many confusing, contradicting thoughts plagued her mind, and Draco saw her struggling to make sense of everything that had occurred between them in the past few minutes. "I think- I think I need some time to breathe", she murmured before turning on the spot and running down the corridor.
He debated whether or not to go after her straight away. He started to follow her, but he himself needed a second to think. As he slide down against a wall, and ended up with his head on his knees, he struggled to create a comprehensive idea. His first thought? What the hell am I doing?! Going after Hermione Granger? I hate her. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. She is a Mudblood, and inferior to me, and as a pureblood, I shall no longer stoop so low as to talk to her! He did try to convince himself that everything he was thinking was true. But even thinking the word Mudblood made him uncomfortable and guilty. Because he wasn't superior to her in any way. They were entirely equal, and anyone who said otherwise lived a very ignorant life in Draco's opinion. Because the truth of the matter was that he held Hermione quite close to his heart, closer than those monsters he called parents. And he didn't want to stop loving Hermione because of other people's issues. Love? He nodded to himself. It must be. No one else made him feel like this. Like everything would be fine in the end, like the world was a soft and beautiful place. A knot began to twist and turn in the bottom of his stomach. He loved her. But did she love him? Probably not, but without another thought, Draco stood up, brushed himself off, and went in search of Hermione.
He found her at the top of the astronomy tower. "Bit nippy out here for the Gryffindor princess, isn't it?", he asked, not unkindly. She shrugged without turning around, gazing up at the constellations above them. Draco found himself quite uncertain. Whether to listen to his foolish side and approach her, or retreat to his bedroom, where a warm fire and a small stack of books from Snape were awaiting his return. For a change, he ignored all sense as a Christmas gift to himself and walked up to her slowly, stopping beside her and leaning against a rail.
"Can you see Draco?" he tried again, waiting for a know-it-all response from the bookworm beside him. Instead, she whipped her head around to face him, with an eyebrow raised, scrutinising his face, as if searching for a hint of mockery. When she found none, she eyebrows furrowed.
"What do you mea-?" she began, but he cut her off, realising his mistake.
"The constellation, Draco, is right over there", he stated, pointing his pale index finger at the sky. She looked up, unsure of what to look for, before letting out a sigh. Seeing his, Draco stepping behind her, uncharacteristically close and tilted her head in the right direction.
"Did you know that Draco is said to have been the name of the snake that tempted the pure woman Eve, in the Garden of Eden?", he murmured against her ear. A shudder passed through her petite form, a warm feeling beginning to take place in the pit of her stomach. Mistaking her shudder from being out in the cold winter air, Draco shrugged out of his tailored coat. Without a word, he placed it over her narrow shoulders. She turned and smiled her thanks, trying to cover her utter surprise at Draco's lack of regard for himself.
They stood awkwardly for several minutes, willing each other to say something, anything, to break the building tension between them. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and looked down at her feet, waiting for him to speak.
"Do you know how to dance?" he asked suddenly. Hermione shook her head, her for-once smooth brown hair bouncing with each movement.
"Then I'll teach you. It might warm you up", he responded thoughtfully. A look of puzzlement crossed her face, before she quickly suppressed it with a frown.
"What about your mother, Malfoy? What would she say about you willingly dancing with a Mudblood?" Hermione let out bitterly, with a trace of her earlier annoyance creasing her forehead, as she recalled their last encounter. Draco let out a low growl, before reminding himself that he was here to make amends and tell her how he really felt, not cause another fight. So he stepped closer to her, with a predatory smirk plastered on his frost bitten face.
"Do you see my mother anywhere, Granger? No?" he purred, with a sarcastic glint in his eyes. He pulled off his new leather gloves, and tossed them somewhere to his right, before offering his naked hand to her. Hermione denied herself the urge to look around and make absolute sure Narcissa was nowhere to be seen.
"Then take my hand, and let me teach you." Instead, she racked her brain, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid any further physical contact between them.
"There's no music to dance to", she replied simply. With that, Draco began humming lowly, a song that sounded remarkably familiar. He took her left hand and placed it on his sturdy shoulder, and held the right one in his own. Skin on skin. She let him lead, guide her with his body.
While she let herself get lost within the dance, her mind was racing, trying to remember where she'd heard the song he was humming before. As the dance slowed down, and he moved closer to her, grabbing both his arms around her waist. When the song was coming to end, she whispered out the final lyrics "…once upon a December". Draco nodded. Hermione glanced up at him from underneath her full lashes, in bewilderment.
"That's song is from a Muggle movie. How did you know-", she began to ask.
"You sing it in the shower a lot. I can hear you from my bedroom", he replied. She tried to mask her surprise by nodding thoughtfully, but couldn't contain the blush appearing on her flustered expression. The fact that he paid enough attention to her to memorise an entire song spoke volumes to her. She wondered how long Malfoy had been like this, when he had changed from the disgusting little ferret who lived only to please his parents and taunt Hermione, to this considerate young man, who wasn't disgusted by her touch (and in fact, seemed to welcome it) and learnt her favourite song, just to hum it when he danced with her. And maybe, maybe he meant what he had said earlier. Maybe it would be okay to let him in. She wanted to be completely consumed by him without worrying what others would say.
She must have taken too long to come up with a witty reply, because Draco's expression harden immediately, and his body stiffen, inching away from hers.
"It's no big deal, Granger. You hear something enough times, it gets stuck in your head on repeat, like a broken fucking record…", he explained. But he was cut off by Hermione's lips pressed softly against his. Pulling back slightly, just enough to look into his storm grey eyes, she said in hushed tones. It was then that she accepted the fact that maybe he really did have feelings for her. And maybe, in some strange turn of events, she could return them.
"Draco, that is the most precious thing anyone has ever done for me". At the use of his first name, Draco's expression soften completely, as he gazed down at the beautiful creature in his arms. A peculiar warm feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, but instead of trying to get rid of it, his curiosity got the better of him, as he leaned down and kissed Hermione, for the second time, without any thought of what his parents would say if they found out. He pulled her bottom lip gently between his own. She tasted like mint and chocolate, and kissing her felt like…well, Christmas. Hermione ignoring the voice at the back of her mind, that was screaming "Why are you kissing Draco Malfoy?!". Because despite what she had initially thought, being with Draco felt nothing short of completely right. Their bodies melted together, and when she pulled away to catch her breath, she half expected Draco to run away as fast as his legs would take him, with a warning to never tell anyone what had just happened. Instead, he offered his hand to her again.
They continued swaying from side to side without music, the learning aspect of their dance long forgotten. Hermione wished she could relax, and just enjoy the moment, but thoughts of Harry and Ron's return from the holidays, and Malfoy's parents finding out, had her completely distracted. "You know that once everyone else comes back from the holidays… this is going to become extremely difficult for both of us", she whispered, half hoping he'd understand and agree, half wishing he'd shake his head and promise that everything would be alright, even if they both knew it wouldn't be. He pulled her closer to him, her head against his chest, her tiny white puffs of breathe disappearing somewhere to his side. His arms around her waist were gripping her so tight, she felt as though any more pressure would completely crush her. And yet, he was still gentle and warm, despite the cold, and despite who they were. To her inevitable dismay, she felt his nod with the bump of his chin on her forehead. "I know. It'll be dangerous for both of us", he mumbled.
"But Hermione? I meant what I said before. I think I'm rather in love with you. So please don't stop this. I don't want to have to pretend I don't feel like this when I'm with you," he pleaded quietly. "Like what?", she asked. "Like they could Crucio me a thousand times over and it would still be worth it, if it meant I got to be with you for a little while longer", he whispered. She wanted to be rational, and stop this… thing before one of them got hurt, because she knew either one or both of them inevitably would. But hearing her name fall from his lips so easily, she wouldn't ruin this night for either of them. So she simply squeezed him gently as a response, and starting singing Once Upon A December, as snow began to fall around them.
A/N: I hope this is okay. I haven't written creatively in a very long time, and this is also my first Harry Potter fanfiction, and my first one shot! Hope you enjoyed it, and if you want a sequel, or feel like suggesting another prompt, please go ahead