Just an early Christmas drabble with my favorite secret lovebirds! Hope you guys enjoy it!
/*/*/*
There were few people outside on the morning of Christmas Eve. The air was cold, and the sky was grey, and the handful of students that had remained at Hogwarts for Christmas were spending the day indoors. Hermione, choosing to stay at school to catch up more on the work she had missed in the past year, was one of the two students in the courtyard, actually enjoying the cool air.
The other was Draco Malfoy. Though his family had gone into hiding after the war, Malfoy had chosen to return to school to get a proper education, not the one the Death Eaters had provided in his seventh year. He was on the opposite side, his nose buried in a book. Hermione had been surprised to see him when term had started in September, but she had paid him no mind. He had saved her and her friends' lives not too long ago, and she had to commend him for that. Besides, he hadn't been outright nasty to her, so she had no reason to be nasty to him. Besides, as the only other student to return to Hogwarts for a second seventh year, she had to spend a lot of time around him. They were frequently studying in silence together, or sitting next to each other in various N.E.W.T classes. If anything, the pair had said perhaps two words to each other since term started.
That is why it was strange when Malfoy approached Hermione from where she sat. He was silent at first, placing his bag on the ground and using his wand to clear a spot of snow so he could sit. Hermione ignored him, continuing her homework and studying. She sometimes found that having people around made studying easier. Perhaps Malfoy was the same way. She had no issues with him sitting there so long as he wasn't bothering her.
Malfoy cleared his throat and Hermione sighed, looking up from her book.
"Yes, Malfoy?"
"Do you have the notes for Potions? I can't find mine,"
"Which ones?"
"The ones we took just before the break," Malfoy rummaged through his bag and pulled out three sheets of parchment. "All I've got is these letters for Mum. I think I may have accidentally sent her my notes, and since she's with Dad in hiding, she can't send very many owls. So if she's got my notes-"
"I've got my notes, yes," Hermione pulled her notes from her bag and handed them over, but Malfoy didn't take them.
"What do you expect me to do with them, exactly?" He asked. "I'm not one for copying,"
"Then just read over them and take your own notes off my notes," Hermione shrugged. "I'm studying for Charms at the moment, so you can take your time with them,"
"Well, thanks then," Malfoy took the notes and held them, but he showed no signs of leaving any time soon.
"Is that all then?" Hermione asked. "I've got notes for all the classes we share, if you need them as well. Just not Charms, since I'm going over those right now," Hermione indicated her textbook and parchment.
"No, that's fine. I've got Charms done already, though, if you need anything,"
"Some ink would actually be great," Hermione indicated the three empty inkpots sitting beside her. "I'm on my last bottle,"
"Is green alright? That's all I've got. Mum sent me my Christmas gifts early this year, so I've got an excessive amount of ink. All my presents this year were practical gifts, since we can't exactly go into Gringotts and withdraw money,"
"I think that's terrible. Your father was the one siding with Voldemort. Your mother was on our side."
"Yeah, but when she chose my dad, she tarnished her own name. And I'm just another Malfoy to everyone else, so I can't go anywhere. I can't even go into Hogsmeade without getting death glares,"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione said kindly.
"It's no big deal. Let me get you that ink and then-"
"No, I think I'm going to head in and get ink there. It's getting unbearable out here," as if in reply, the wind kicked up, blowing across the courtyard and stinging Hermione's face with chill. "You're free to freeze out here, but I'm going to go in. Besides, I'm sure someone has left ink in the common room somewhere,"
"I wouldn't bet on it," Malfoy said with a shake of his head. "Most of the students that stayed at Hogwarts this year are N.E.W.T students. Everyone in their common rooms right now is going to be studying. All the available inkwells will be taken."
"Well I'm not going to freeze out here," Hermione gathered her things. "I'm going to-"
"The library? Ah, excellent choice. All N.E.W.T students love the library, wouldn't you agree?"
"So then there will be ink in the common room, because everyone is in the library,"
"No, they'll have taken the ink to the library, most likely."
"Do you really want for me to take your ink that badly, Malfoy?"
"It doesn't matter who's ink you use, Granger. I'm just saying there's no sense going on a wild goose chase when I can just reach into my bag and give you ink,"
"How can you find anything in that bag? It's an absolute mess," Hermione had a point. There were pieces of paper sticking out at all angles, and Hermione could tell by the lumpy shape that books were just tossed inside carelessly. "Any ink you have in there is probably soaking into your books right now because you broke the bottles by just tossing the bag around,"
"Just because my organizational skills are less than stellar, Granger," Malfoy reached into his bag and within seconds pulled out a brand new bottle of ink. He tossed it into the air and caught it with grace before handing it over to her. "I know exactly where everything is," Malfoy collected his things and walked back towards the castle. "Oh, and I know a quiet place you can study. It's warm, and there's never anyone there."
/*/*/*
"I've known about this place since fifth year," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes as the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. "I thought it would have burned down after the fire, during the battle?"
"Someone must have fixed it, if it didn't just fix itself," Malfoy shrugged and pushed open the door, and Hermione was kind of excited to see what the Room looked like. It changed to look like whatever the user needed, and Hermione wondered what shape it would take now.
The room looked like a typical common room, just without all the house decorations. There was a large fireplace, keeping the room at a comfortable temperature, and, much to Hermione's amusement, a shelf with nothing but bottles of ink in various colors. Malfoy noticed the shelf and laughed, shaking his head and tossing his bag onto the couch.
"At least we know you won't run out of ink," Malfoy teased. Hermione rolled her eyes and set her stuff out on the table across from the couch. It was nice, having a quiet, warm place to study. Why she hadn't even considered it before was beyond her, but she was glad to be away from the library- which was sure to be crowded- or the common room- which would be filled with students goofing around since they didn't have all sorts of tests to worry about. Hermione would be able not only take all the notes she needed, but knock out the rest of the homework she'd been putting off for the last couple of days. On the other end of the table, Malfoy had pulled out Hermione's notes and was setting to work on taking what he needed from them. There were several pages, so he hunched over in silence, leaving Hermione to her own work.
They sat in silence for what felt like several hours, only speaking when one of them- usually Malfoy- had questions on something in the reading or homework they'd been assigned. When they weren't talking, the only sound was the scratching of quills on parchment. Finally, Malfoy set down his quill and sighed.
"I've had enough. I don't know why I decided to put myself through this again,"
"Because the first time was so difficult," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, not taking her attention off the Arithmancy essay she was working on. "I'm sure the Carrows cared that you finished your homework,"
"It wasn't just the Carrows teaching, you know," Malfoy snapped. "Even with Snape as the headmaster, the other teachers still expected us to study. Just because most of the Slytherins didn't care, doesn't mean I just blew everything off. Even with everything going on, we were still in school. It just wasn't Hogwarts anymore. It was just..."
"Prison?" Hermione suggested, looking up at him and putting her essay aside. Malfoy nodded.
"Yeah," he grew quiet then, and Hermione wondered if she'd overstepped a boundary. She hadn't been at Hogwarts during what would have been her seventh year. She hadn't seen firsthand what the Death Eaters had done while taking over the school. Malfoy had. She had seen the aftermath, and she'd heard the stories from Neville and the others, but she hadn't witnessed the way things really were.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly.
"Don't be," Malfoy said quickly. "I came back to actually do my seventh year right. I didn't take my exams, because Mum dragged us all into hiding, but I insisted on getting a proper education. She wanted to send me to Durmstrang, where I'd be slightly more accepted, but I wanted to come here. It's home," Malfoy shrugged and turned his attention away from Hermione, signaling the end of the conversation.
Hermione, no longer feeling up to studying, put her things away and sat on the couch, looking into the fire. Malfoy had made no efforts to leave, despite having packed his things as well, so the two sat in an uncomfortable silence waiting for some sort of cue to either speak or leave. The fire started to die down, and Hermione wondered if the fire would be their cue. The room would have given them more wood, or kept the fire burning at least, if they were meant to sit in the room by the fire all night. Since no wood appeared, Hermione started getting ready to leave.
"Wait," Malfoy's voice was soft, and sounded shaky. Hermione set her bag back down, but made no efforts to sit down.
"What?"
"I don't want to be alone," his voice was barely above a whisper, so quiet Hermione could almost pretend she hadn't heard. Almost.
"Then go back to your common room," she wasn't trying to be rude, she just thought it was odd that he chose her of all people to spend Christmas Eve with.
"I'll still be alone. They aren't my friends. Even the ones who might have been my friends aren't now. Half of my house hates me for siding with the Death Eaters, and the other half hates me for abandoning them. I'd spend the night alone in my room, writing Mum a Christmas letter telling her that things are going great when they're not. And with Potter and Weasley not here, I assume you don't have any grand plans for the night,"
"Maybe I do," Hermione huffed, not sure why she was taking offense. She didn't have plans, but that wasn't the point.
"I won't keep you then. Have a nice night, Granger, and Happy Christmas," Malfoy turned his attention to the dying fire, which was casting a dim orange glow across the room, and Hermione sighed, sitting beside him on his couch.
"I don't have plans," Hermione admitted.
"But you said-"
"I was annoyed you assumed. But I was going to spend the night studying,"
"Nobody should study on Christmas. It's supposed to be a fun time,"
"Studying can be fun," Hermione protested. "I like to study," Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Hermione Granger, you are the only person I've ever met who honestly enjoys studying,"
"Everyone knows I like studying. It was never a secret," Hermione said, indicating her book bag. "I'm taking more classes than anyone, and in third year, I was taking so many classes, the Ministry gave me a time-turner so I could get to them all,"
"I can barely put up with the classes I have," Malfoy said with a shake of his head. "I would die if I were you,"
"It really wasn't that hard,"
"If you say so,"
The conversation died out again, and Hermione missed having her friends around. When Harry and Ron were around, silence was comfortable. Draco Malfoy didn't have that warmth around him that her friends had. He was stony and cold in his silence, though Hermione couldn't blame him. He had suffered more in Voldemort's rise and fall from power than most had. Even without suffering too many casualties, his entire life had been changed forever.
She couldn't pity him. She knew Draco Malfoy would not want her pity. Changed views on Muggleborns or not, she felt he would be at least mildly annoyed if he knew she pitied him. But still, she couldn't look at him the way she had when they'd been in school. He was not the arrogant little boy that had called her a Mudblood. He was a boy who had been forced to grow up too quickly, in the worst way possible. He had seen things, lived through things, that Hermione could never imagine. The pressure he had been under was something she could never understand. It was impossible for her to hold any ill feelings towards him, especially when he had requested she spend Christmas Eve with him.
"I'm sorry," Malfoy said suddenly. "For the last six years. There's no excuse for my actions, but I am sorry,"
"Oh," Hermione wasn't sure what to say. He was right, there was no excuse, but she couldn't just tell him he was a terrible person with no hope of forgiveness. She wasn't that kind of person, and she believed that everyone deserved a second chance. Especially those that had gone through the same kind of uprooting Draco Malfoy had. "That's alright," she said finally.
"It's not alright,"
"No, really, it's okay. You're a different person now. War changed you. It changes everyone. It would hardly be fair of me to hold it against you, now, would it?"
"I suppose that's true," Malfoy said. He opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but he shut it again, avoiding making eye contact with her.
The Room must have given them a clock some time ago, because a small chime sounded Midnight from somewhere within the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see a small Christmas tree pop into existence, with a small mound of presents underneath- some wrapped in red and gold, the others wrapped in green and silver. She was willing to bet almost anything that they were her's and Malfoy's Christmas presents, respectively.
"Happy Christmas," Hermione said quietly, her eyes not leaving Malfoy. He was still avoiding her eyes, but he turned to face her, keeping his eyes facing upward, away from her.
"Happy Christmas," he responded, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. His face grew pink, and Hermione's eyes followed his, stopping on the growth coming from the ceiling and slowly spiraling downward.
"Mistletoe," she said simply. "A parasitic plant. Sometime in Victorian England, it became tradition to-"
"-kiss underneath it, yeah, I know,"
"They would say that bad luck would befall a woman who refused to be kissed under the mistletoe," Hermione finished, her voice still a whisper.
"I think we've all had enough bad luck for one lifetime, don't you agree, Hermione?"
"I would, Draco," saying each other's names just felt right. In this moment, Hermione couldn't imagine why she hadn't been calling Draco by his first name since the day they'd met. Her name sounded right on his lips. His lips that were just a few short inches away, and moving closer...
Hermione shut her eyes at the same moment Draco's lips met hers. Surprisingly, they were soft, and warm. His lips worked against hers gently, and it didn't take long for Hermione to respond. She kissed him back, surprised to find that she was enjoying it. Draco had yet to pull away, suggesting that he had to be enjoying it as well. She relaxed a little, allowing herself to fully experience the kiss.
And suddenly, it was over. Draco pulled away, eyes locked on Hermione this time.
"Sorry," he said softly.
"That's quite alright," Hermione replied, her voice just as soft. "If we're being honest, it wasn't terrible,"
"It was...nice," Draco admitted, glancing up to the mistletoe. It was retreating now that it was no longer needed, and Hermione paused. Needed. The room gave them what they needed, and it had given them the mistletoe.
"Nice," Hermione agreed, mostly talking to herself. It had been nice. Surprisingly so. Her face was warm from thinking about it, and her lips tingled from the action. "Definitely nice,"
"Maybe we should start over," Draco suggested. "With the New Year approaching. We can start over. Do things properly this time." Hermione nodded and extended her arm.
"I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" Draco barely held back a smile and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake.
"The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,"
"Pleasure," Hermione said with a smile. Her eyes flicked upwards again. The mistletoe was gone. They didn't need it anymore. Their requirements had been fulfilled. Hermione couldn't say where exactly their relationship would go from here, but she knew for sure, sitting beside Draco in the early hours of Christmas morning, that it would be for the better.
/*/*/*