Mistletoe

Hermione Granger sat at her desk, re-reading the same line on the same page of the same draft as she had for the last twenty minutes. Her husband was late. Again. Hermione sighed, leaning back into her chair, willing her eyes to remain off the grandfather clock in the corner. She didn't want another reminder of her how her husband had failed to commit to her. A familiar twisting feeling was growing in the pit of her stomach.

The last time they had had plans, he hadn't shown up at all. It wasn't the first time. When she had asked him about it at home, he had told her something came up that he had to take care of. And that was it. No details. No apology. She had sat up all night alone in the living room on the verge of crying. The next day, she had gone to Harry, no longer able to contain it, crying, and asking him if he though Ron was cheating on her. Harry had consoled her the rest of the morning until she was able to spell away her red-brimmed eyes and puffy cheeks so she could get back to her work.

For a couple of weeks afterwards, things had seemed to have improved. She figured it was due to Harry taking the time to speak to Ron and Ginny threatening her brother. However, when their anniversary came around things got worse. Not only did Ron not come home until nearly 2am, he also forgot. To make it up to her, he bought her a new copy of "Hogwarts: A History." Though Hermione was fond of reading, the gift didn't quite make up for the fact that she and her husband had become perfect strangers in the last fifteen years. Once Hugo had gone off to Hogwarts, they had even stopped sleeping in the same room. Ron complained that she snored.

She had done her best to keep their problems from the family, especially her children. Rose and Hugo had enough on their plates, being the offspring of two of the three Golden Trio, whose mother was the first Muggleborn Minister of Magic. She didn't want to add onto their burden by becoming a divorced Minister. She would be the first in history. Hermione Granger was not a quitter. She would not quit on her marriage, even if it felt as though her husband already had.

The intercom finally went off. Her assistant called in. "Minister Granger, I have Mr.-."

"Yes, please send him in," Hermione cut the other witch off, as she clung to her last nerve.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her thumb and pointer finger together at the break of her nose, hoping the pounding pain in her head would go away. The pinching helped a little, but it wasn't enough to completely remove the headache. Leaning down, she began rooting around in her desk for where she kept her Muggle remedies. This called for some ibuprofen. Just as she located the bottle, she heard the door open. There were a few heavy footsteps before he stopped in front of her desk. Not bothering to look up from her search, Hermione started.

"I honestly do not know what to say anymore," she sighed, attempting to open up the container. She had always struggled with the childproofing. "I keep hoping you will come around here, surprise me by showing up, help me along..." she trailed off, shaking her head, more due to the fact that she couldn't get the relief she so desperately needed, than because of her husband's indifference. "If you wanted a different life, if this isn't where you'd thought you'd be now, I understand. I didn't think I'd be here either, but that doesn't mean you give up. Though, in all fairness, there are days when I wish I could be like you and just walk out of the house without a word to anyone and go off doing...Godric know's what. But then I think of Rose and Hugo and what it would do to them and I can't."

Hermione finally got the top of the container opened. Dispensing two tablets into her open palm, she reached for her glass of water. "Do you even love me any-."

"Let me stop you right there, Granger," a voice interrupted her. "Before you say anything you regret."

Startled, Hermione jumped in her seat, sending ibuprofen pills flying everywhere. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the wizard in front of her. "Malfoy?!"

"You were expecting someone else?"

She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the difference in his stature when he walked in. He was nothing like Ron. Her husband practically stomped into a room and was often clumsy. Malfoy moved about with a slick confidence, as if he was hoovering about the floor instead of walking. Even now, as he watched her with an amused expression his stance appeared effortless.

"Obviously," she grumbled, kneeling down on the floor to gather up her scattered medicine.

He aimed his wand at the floor. "Colligentes." The remaining pills gathered together in a pile allowing her to easily scoop them back up. "Headache?" he asked, taking a seat across from her.

Raising an eyebrow at his knowledge of Muggle remedies, she nodded before sitting back down in her chair. "It's been a long day."

"Perhaps I can help."

"Oh?"

"I could take you out to lunch."

She narrowed her eyes at him. What was he playing at? First his owl post correspondences and now this. Showing up at the Ministry, unannounced to take her to out to eat? Malfoy had to have a hidden agenda. "Pass," she replied. "I have plans."

"With your husband?"

"And Harry."

"Potter," he chuckled. "I just came from his office, actually."

"Why?"

"My annual 'Are-you-still-a-Death-Eater' examination."

She had to laugh at that. Malfoy hadn't been involved in any Dark Arts since the Battle of Hogwarts over twenty years ago. His parents had testified against their former friends, providing the Ministry with enough details to track down and capture almost all of Voldemort's followers. The few remaining ones had been picked up one by one within the next year or so. Harry had made it a top priority for the Aurors. Draco had dedicated his life to alchemy and the study of dark artifacts. He had published many of his findings and shared all of his knowledge with the Ministry and other scholars. He had been more than helpful with their work on attempting to cure the effects of dark curses and lessening the impact to the Muggle community. Hermione had always contributed his change to his wife, Astoria. Though part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a group of select Pureblood families, she had been extremely tolerant of Muggleborns and did not subscribe to the same closed-minded philosophies of her family.

"Seriously?"

He shrugged. "We usually talk Quidditch for the first twenty minutes and about Albus and Scorpius the rest of the time."

"How is Scorpius?"

"Completely infatuated with your daughter," he smirked.

Hermione smiled and nodded. Rose was turning sixteen this year and she was head over heels for Draco's son. They had been friends since they had met on the Hogwarts Express first year. She, Scorpius, and Albus were what the media had dubbed the "New Golden Trio" in a next generation parallel to her, Ron, and Harry. Hermione had never been bothered by the fact Rose cared for Scorpius. The war had altered all of them. It had taken their youth and innocence early. Hermione didn't want that for her children. She wanted them to grow up in a world full of acceptance and understanding. Until Scorpius did something that made him unfit to be with her daughter, she would be supportive. Given the way the boy acted around Rose, Hermione doubted that day would ever come. It was as Draco said. Scorpius was deeply in love.

"The feeling is mutual, much to Ron's discomfort with the situation."

Unfortunately, her husband didn't share her level of understanding. His words echoed in her mind from the day they sent Rose off at King's Cross Station.

"So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," she had said, trying not to laugh but at the same time worried. She didn't want to add any pressure onto Rose on her first day of school. Given her upcoming promotion at the Ministry, she didn't want to condone any kind of blood prejudice either. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," Ron had apologized, but quickly added, "Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

Hermione had figured he was only fooling around. But Ron had been fairly serious. When Rose wrote them to let them know she had been placed in Gryffindor, he had been estatic. She had made no mention of the Slytherin boy. That didn't stop Ron from reminding her to keep away from him, yet 'show him whose boss' in the classroom. If she had known then what she knew now, she may have been less inclined to have laughed when Ron had made his comments.

It came as no surprise to her that when Rose and Albus arrived home at Christmas break and began sharing the news of their shared best friend that Ron went as red as his hair. Harry had been the one to lead him out of the room before the children could notice. Ginny and Hermione had joined their husbands later, while the kids all played Quidditch outside. Ron had been terribly unreasonable about the situation. Harry had been calm, trying to explain to his best friend how Scorpius had been a constant support structure for Albus, who had nearly cried when the Sorting Hat placed him in Slytherin house.

Even the following year when Rose had written home to tell them Scorpius had punched out a boy who called her a "Mudblood," Ron had remained against the blonde wizard. The only impact his behavior had was in driving his daughter away. Rose continued to write to Hermione, but she refused to write her father after he had sent her a Howler. It had been the breaking point for their father-daughter relationship. It started when Scorpius asked Rose to officially be his girlfriend in third year. She had said yes and written to Hermione immediately. Hermione hadn't meant to keep it from Ron, but she had wanted to get Ginny's advice before approaching the subject with her husband. Unfortunately, Harry made mention of it to Ron during dinner one evening. Apparently, Lily had found it wildly romantic and had shared the news with her parents. Ron had instantly written a Howler to his daughter. Like his mother, Ron had a flair for the dramatics and often blew things out of proportion. He had not anticipated receiving a Howler back.

"Is his discontent with Scorpius or with Scorpius being my son?" Malfoy asked, knowingly.

"I think you already know the answer to that."

"Thought as much." He pressed his lips together for a moment, thinking, then changed the subject. "Have you tried couples therapy?"

"Excuse me?"

"With Weasley?"

Hermione felt her cheeks redden, as she recalled how she had ranted at him when he first walked into her office. She ignored his question and posed one of her own. "Why did you let me take it that far?"

He stared at her, the amusement gone from his eyes. "At first, I thought you were talking to me. It wasn't until you mentioned walking out of the house that I realized I wasn't your intended audience."

She thought over her words carefully for a minute. His letters had been persistent over the last few years. He often hinted at having feelings for her. She had never taken it seriously. Then again, he had never shown up at the Ministry to see her before either.

"Is this a joke?"

"What?"

"Your letters and you being here?"

"If it is," he ran a hand through his hair, "then it's on me."

Hermione bit back her bottom lip, trying to keep her eyes off the way his shirt tightened around his chest as he reached up or how mesmerizing his gray orbs were. He had become quite attractive as he had matured. His hair was still such a white-blonde color that she found it difficult to decipher if he had any truly white or gray hairs due to his age. She had found numerous white hairs as she had gotten older, mostly due to stress. Thankfully, there were several easy charms available and they worked better than visiting a stylist every six to eight weeks.

"Right," she retorted, sarcastically. Get your mind off of how he looks, Hermione, she scolded herself. It's Malfoy.

"I couldn't lie to you, even if I wanted to, Granger." He leaned forward, folding his arms on the edge of her desk. "Potter made me drink Veritaserum."

"Harry wouldn't-."

"It's protocol," he explained.

If Harry had followed procedure, Malfoy was correct. It was written into the protocol that all under investigation had to be administered Veritaserum. She found herself mirroring his stance, leaning towards him on her desk, sizing him up. If this was a game, if he was playing her to some advantage, now was the time to find out. She could always ask Harry later if he had, in fact, given Malfoy Veritaserum. In the meantime, if he'd be telling her the truth either way. Either he had taken it and he'd only be able to speak to her honestly or he'd lie, believing she thought him honest and she'd find out.

"So I could ask you whatever I wanted and you'd have to answer truthfully?"

"Yes."

"Even if you don't want to tell me."

"What do you want to know, Granger? I'm an open book."

"I like books."

"I know."

The way he said those two words caused a shiver to run up her spine. There was a lowness to his voice, a seductive quality to it that made her skin tingle. She felt an old yearning to be touched, a desire to be held, which had not been met for many years. The strength of her need scared her and she pushed herself off the desk, sliding back in her chair. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping the space would clear her mind.

"Scared to hear the truth, Granger?"

"Hardly."

"Than ask away."

"Fine," she cleared her throat. "Let's start with something easy, shall we? Why did you start owling me?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"But why wait until our children met, if you wanted to talk to me? Why not reach out before then?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't respond or worse, Weasel would try to hex me."

"And why would Ron hex you?"

"Because I want what he has."

"I'm sure that caused you some problems with Astoria."

"We are divorced."

Hermione had heard about their separation. It was rare in the wizarding world for couples to get divorced. It did happen, but very infrequently, and almost never when it came to Pureblood marriages. When the Malfoys had split the summer between Rose and Scorpius' first and second year, Hermione had been shocked. She hadn't had time to dwell on it. Rose had begged her to let Scorpius come and visit. She said he needed to be away from the Manor and all the drama. Hermione had agreed, but Ron had not. In the end, Scorpius had gone and stayed with Harry and Ginny, visiting with Albus. Naturally, Rose followed. Hermione barely saw her daughter that summer.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. She's happier now anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's married to Nott."

"Theodore Nott?"

"One in the same."

She laughed. "I never pegged him for the settling down type."

"I never pegged him for the heterosexual type, but," Malfoy shrugged and dropped it. "Next question."

"Are you happier now?"

"I'm working on it."

"And how are you working on it?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

His words were like a dare. He was clearly pushing her towards the edge of something..something that was still left unsaid between them but she knew. It was all true. Every word he had written. Each time he had made a statement about him being with her, he had been sharing a secret he had kept hidden for years. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest at the realization. She felt the blush returning to her cheeks. Suddenly her office felt too constricting, too hot. She got up to open a window. It was the end of December and snow had already begun to fall. Regardless, she needed a blast of ice air to set her back on track.

Hermione stood by the open window for a few moments, breathing in and out slowly until her pulse returned to normal. Her cheeks were still burning, but the chill was working. She turned to him with a look of disbelief.

"So you were serious? All those hints are real?"

"I thought I made it clear in my letters. Granger, I-."

He was cut off by Harry and Ron entering the office. "Hey Mione, Ron's just arrived. We're ready to go to lunch now, if you're-

"Malfoy?" Ron pushed past Harry, upon seeing their old rival sitting at his wife's desk. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione deadpanned, at a loss to what to say.

"I was here for my interrogation with Potter and stopped in to ask the Minister if Rose would be permitted to join us this year at the Manor for Christmas," Malfoy didn't miss a beat. "I figured I owe you for him always visiting."

"He does not visit," Ron sputtered.

Malfoy smirked. "Right. Well, the invitation is open. You're all welcome, of course. I have plenty of rooms, if you care to spend the holidays in style."

"Yeah right."

"Ron!"

"Come on, mate. He's being nice."

"Hermione, let's go," Ron grumbled, ignoring both her and Harry.

She didn't want to pick a fight with her husband in front of anyone and especially not in front of Malfoy after what he had shared. Biting her tongue, she grabbed her coat and moved to leave her office. Harry filtered out first, followed by Ron, then Malfoy and her. As Malfoy passed under the archway, she gasped. He stopped, spinning on his heel to check on her.

"Granger?"

"It's not possible," she verbalized her fear, her voice shaking slightly. He noticed she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were focused slightly above him and to the left where mistletoe had appeared.

"Is that-."

Swiftly, she shoved him out of her office. "Ron, can you come here a sec?"

Hermione watched as the plant vanished in Malfoy's absence. When her husband met her under the archway, it remained empty. Her eyes searched the wood frantically, looking around for where charm should have produced the decoration for her soulmate. She had done the spell herself, thinking it would be a nice touch for the holiday and hoping it would help Ron remember what they had had early on. Her heart sunk as she registered what this meant. Ron wasn't her soulmate.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently. "I'm hungry."

"Never mind," she replied, feeling her pulse quicken again.

"Ok." He walked back out, clearly unaware of her concern.

For a moment, she stood dumbfounded in the doorway. Her husband wasn't the love of her life. He wasn't the person she was meant to be with. If she had done the spell correctly, her soulmate was...

"Granger?" Malfoy reentered the office, lightly touching her arm. "Are you alright?"

Right on cue, the mistletoe began sprouting a full branch from the middle of the archway. Oh, Merlin, she thought. I'm in trouble.

Malfoy glanced up, spotting the growing plant. "Does this mean I get a kiss?" He had a smug grin on his face and his hand was still on her arm.

"No!" She half whispered, half cried, pulling away from him and removing herself from his proximity.

"It's tradition," he reminded her, following.

"Sod tradition."

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"Stop it," she hissed, as they joined up with Harry and Ron in the elevator. He didn't pay attention to her cold tone, standing as close to her as he could without raising suspicion. She pressed the button for the lobby floor and prayed for a quick trip down.

"The Veritaserum should wear off within the next fifteen minutes or so," Harry commented, as they waited to reach the lobby level. "Hope you didn't say anything too embarrassing in front of Mione."

Malfoy turned and mouthed 'See?' to her before either of her friends could notice.

"Yeah," Ron laughed, as the elevator stopped and they exited. "But what could be more embarrassing than being punched out by a thirteen-year-old witch."

Harry's face broke into a grin at the mention of Hermione's cross from third year. However, she noticed Malfoy seemed rather affected by the comment. His normal confident demeanor had been replaced by one of pure regret and his eyes were stuck on the floor. Instantly, Hermione felt for him. She wasn't sure why she cared so much, but she hated seeing him upset.

"About as humiliating as 'intentionally letting' me hit you with Stupefy in fifth year?" Hermione countered. Harry let out a short burst of a laugh. Malfoy's face relaxed into a small smile.

"I let you do that," Ron insisted.

"Sure you did, mate," Harry continued to laugh, patting him on the back.

"I wish I could have seen it," Malfoy remarked.

"Be careful what you wish for," Harry told him. "Mione looks nice enough but she has a dark side."

"Oh really?" Malfoy replied, the edges of his mouth teasing into a smile, as his eyes locked onto hers. She reminded herself to breath normally, just as another shiver ran up her spine.

"The only dark thing she is into these days is that black hole she calls an office." Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband's jab. "She spends more time there than at home anymore."

"I have a job, Ron."

"So do I, but you don't see me pulling twelve hours a day."

"You don't work here anymore. You work with your brother," Hermione reminded him. "It's different."

"I'll leave you three to it, then," Malfoy interrupted their squabble, hanging back from the trio.

"You could join us," Hermione offered, suddenly feeling bad for not having thought to invite him earlier.

"Mione," Ron whined. "We hardly ever get to go out as just the three of us anymore."

Hermione put her hands on her hips, glaring at him for his childish behavior. "Well maybe we would if you didn't continually blow me off or show up late, Ronald." He cringed at the use of his full name.

"Can't help you there, mate," Harry shrugged, slowly backing away from Hermione.

"Mione, I told you-."

"I don't want to hear it." She snapped. "If Malfoy wants to join us, he can."

"But-."

"No, buts, Ronald."

"No," Draco interrupted all of them, surprising her. "He's right. You three go have fun together. I need to be getting back to the Manor, anyway. Lots to prepare before my son comes home for the holiday."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, walking over to him. "It isn't a problem." She flashed an angry look over her shoulder at her husband, who was avoiding eye contact with her.

"Thank you, Minister, but I have to decline this time."

He reached out to shake her hand. Hermione remembered when he had done the same to Harry in first year. If Harry had agreed to be friends with Malfoy all those years earlier, would things have been different between them? Would they have all grown to be friends and been a quartet instead of a trio? Would she have fallen in love with the boy who rivaled her in all her classes and who pushed all her buttons in a way no one else could?

"I don't bite," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Much."

Hermione realize she was still standing there while Harry and Ron waited for her. She quickly gave Malfoy a firm handshake and turned back around. As she did, she felt a piece of parchment in her hand. He had slipped her a scrap when they had shook. She whipped her head around to see him smirking, as he retied his scarf around his neck. Harry and Ron had started for the fireplaces, unaware of her stalling in the lobby. Curious, she read the note.

Can I take you to lunch tomorrow? If yes, then say "Happy Christmas." If no, then don't say anything.

She couldn't contain the smile forming on her face.

"Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

"Happy Christmas, Granger."

Author's Note: This companion piece to "Letters" was requested by my Instagram account followers. Hope you like it. If so, follow me dramionesismyotp. You can read "Letters" via my dramione edits. I have about half the story up so far.