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Main characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini
Summary: Secret Santa at Hogwarts with every House participating in the name of unity... And Hermione suddenly finds herself in the position of a matchmaker.
Author's Note(s): This story was written for the HP Mini Fest 2016. I've included my prompts at the end of the story...
Thanks to thewaterfalcon for beta reading the whole story... The feedback was much appreciated! =)
Rating: T (contains an implied sexual scene)
It was late afternoon on the first day in December, and Hermione was crouching over her homework in the Hogwarts library. She wanted to revise her latest essay once more, before it was due in two days, as she wasn't quite happy with how she organised several paragraphs. So, her essay now looked more red than anything else from her striking through a lot, and writing down remarks on the edge. At least, the essay kept her from pondering too much about the whole Secret Santa event the school has organised. Even she―despite being Honourable Head Girl in her eighth and last year―had to take part in it, to her dismay. It was just that she had absolutely no clue who the student was she had drawn earlier that day; even Ginny could only say that he belonged to Ravenclaw House.
"Don't you ever take a break, Granger?" With a smirk, Draco placed his bag in the chair opposite her before pulling up the one next to it to sit down. "And yes, you already told me about setting an example as Honourable Head Girl..."
"Hello, Malfoy." Hermione leaned back, stretching her back in the process. "How was Charms?" she asked with a dry smile, knowing that it wasn't his favourite subject here at Hogwarts; he only really liked Potions anyway, and even outdid her in that class.
"You know I hate it." He pulled out his homework―an essay in Potions, as Hermione gathered from the books and scrolls he placed next to him.
"You hate everything, I know." She shrugged, and pulled a water bottle from her bag. She figured she could take a break for a few minutes before continuing with her essay revision, so she watched Draco fuss about the books and scrolls in front of him, as he muttered, quietly. Quite a few students still found it remarkable―and reason enough for rude comments―that Malfoy got along well with her and her friends after the War, that they even studied together. Only few of them knew how that came to be. Malfoy had to go through a hearing, and they had helped him build a solid defence; he ended up only being sentenced to finish his education at Hogwarts, hence forcing him to do the eighth year next to her and her friends. Their unlikely friendship, however, did help his reputation, and he wasn't bullied as much as he had feared at the beginning of the year. But this afternoon, she was sure that his sour mood was caused by something else, as he didn't care that much anymore about what others thought of him.
"What?" he asked, rather unnerved, when he saw that she was watching him.
"Nothing. Just taking a break."
"Really?" He leaned back, fidgeting with his quill.
"Yes. The whole Secret Santa thing is keeping me from concentrating properly." She saw him wince at the mention of the Secret Santa, and knew she had hit the source of his irritation.
"Yes. Whoever came up with that stupid idea needs to be roasted. House unity, my arse." He sneered the last words, still drumming on the table with his quill. "Who did you draw?"
She put her bottle on the table, and sighed. "Goldstein, he's a Ravenclaw. Besides that, I have no clue who he is, actually. You?"
He frowned, pursing his lips, and crossed his arms. "Potter."
"You drew Harry?" she asked in disbelief, and bit her lip to avoid bursting into laughter.
"Yes." He heaved a sigh, and rubbed his face.
"You two, really."
"Come on, this has to be some sick joke, me drawing Potter." He slid down in his chair, visibly uncomfortable with the situation.
"Why? I mean you do get along–"
"I don't think he really likes me. Why should I give someone a present who doesn't like me?"
Hermione heard the resigned sigh at the end of his words. "Malfoy, please. That's not the case; he would have killed you by now if he didn't like you."
"That's not what I meant," he retorted, drumming on the table again with his quill.
"I know," she said, smiling warmly. "I know you like him. I saw you two work during the preparations for your hearing. I just never thought you'd get so close, with your history and everything–"
He groaned, and raked through his hair with one hands. "Gods, you really know."
"Yes. I do–"
"Only makes it worse, really," he huffed. "I'm going to make a fool out of myself... As if that night wasn't bad enough–"
"What night?" Hermione asked, leaning forward, tilting her head slightly. She knew that Draco had always been rather discreet about his private life, as there was so much at stake for him, being the Malfoy heir and everything. She knew about his preferences for a while know―since the preparations for his hearing, in fact―but had decided that she better kept it to herself. However, she had never heard either of them mention anything about a night together.
He leaned back even further and crossed his arms, ignoring the reddened cheeks. "I'll only ever admit that Potter and I were drunk that night. You won't ever hear anything else from me. And I will kill you if you ever tell anyone else..."
"Calm down, Malfoy. Your secret's safe with me. Seriously." She raised one of her hands, and placed the other on her chest, as if she was taking a vow.
"It was such a stupid thing to do," he muttered, and picked up his quill again. "The whole thing is stupid–"
"It is," she agreed with a sigh, smiling softly as she watched him trying to distract himself with his Potions essay.
He looked up once more, studying her with his piercing look, then shook his head, and sneered."Really stupid idea. Me and Golden Boy–"
"Don't call him that, please. At least not when I'm around."
He returned his focus on his essay. "Why not? I'm sure he still calls me ferret, and everything–"
"He doesn't. And you know that," she retorted, snorting. She considered continuing her own essay, but then she shrugged her shoulders, and let out a deep sigh. "Look, if it helps you ease your mind, I'll help you find a gift for Harry, but you'll owe me one for that."
With that, he looked up once more, his brows slightly furrowed, but a small grin on his lips. "You would?"
"Someone has to end your misery. And don't forget, you owe me one. A big one." And with his nod in relief, she was finally able to return her attention to her own essay.
The following Saturday, Hermione joined Harry on the Quidditch pitch, where he was observing the training of the Gryffindor team from the stands; he had agreed to take over the position of coach when the team had asked him, calling it a great honour to share the House with him.
"They're good. Is Ginny not here today?" Hermione commented, after a few minutes of just watching the team train; she was feeling cold, despite the Heating Charms on her jumper as well as her thick coat―this year's winter was proving to be a harsh one so far. Hopefully it would snow in time for Christmas, but at least it wasn't raining this evening.
Harry shook his head. "Some sort of accident, she said. But they could very well do without me," he replied, nodding, whilst intently watching the team that was flying around over their head.
Hermione knew that he was making mental notes about the details the team needed to work on―if only he showed the same enthusiasm for the rest of his school curriculum, he wouldn't have to rely so much on her notes. "Maybe." She shrugged, and rubbed her arms. "Have you heard who Ron drew for the Secret Santa?" she asked. Something in the way he was watching the team today told her that he had something else on his mind entirely―he probably wasn't too happy about the Secret Santa either, like most of the school.
"Yes, he won't stop talking about it. Pansy this, Pansy that."
"Yeah, one could think he actually likes her," she added with a giggle, and nudged him in the side. "I drew someone from Ravenclaw, and I have no idea who it is..."
Harry chuckled. "Madam Pomfrey will need to treat him for shock when he sees on Revelation Day who was his Secret Santa. Almost all students adore you, Honourable Head Girl."
She let out a desperate groan. "Don't you and Malfoy ever grow tired of teasing me with that?"
"Never," he replied with a short smirk. "JOHNSON, FLY HIGHER!"
"Yes, boss!"
"Boss?" Hermione giggled, but she didn't miss his nervous outburst at the Chaser who was flying high enough in her eyes. "So, who did you draw?" she then asked, leaning a bit closer because she was indeed curious to know.
Instead of answering, Harry pulled his glasses off to wipe them for a few seemingly long seconds. "JOHNSON, I SAID HIGHER!"
"Harry, come on, it can't be that bad," she prodded him. "At least not as bad as Ron and Pansy..."
He raised an eyebrow when he finally looked at her, squinting because he held his glasses still in his fingers. "It's Malfoy, okay?" he admitted, slowly putting his glasses back on his nose, "I drew Malfoy."
Hermione had to press her lips together in order to avoid laughing out loud. This was just perfect―they both fancied each other, and this was the chance to help them see it, too. "Why is that bad?" she then asked, trying to sound warmly.
"Come on, Hermione, he always acts weird when I'm around, as if he doesn't like me. I mean... working together on the defence for his hearing was great, you know? As if we connected somehow. But now? We barely talk... It's like he's avoiding me on purpose now that he's got what he wanted–"
"I don't think that's the case, Harry. Maybe he's just confused, I don't know." She shrugged.
"SINGH, THAT'S NOT HOW YOU HOLD A QUAFFLE!"
"Harry, she was holding it right, don't take it out on them." She laid her hand on his forearm to get his attention. "Look, I know the whole situation is complicated, okay? I know it's not easy―not for you, and especially not for him, traditions and everything." She leaned a bit closer, her hand still firmly on his arm. "But I wasn't exactly blind as to how close you two were during the preparations for his trial–"
"You know about that night?"
"As I said, I wasn't exactly blind, Harry." She patted his arm reassuringly, throwing him a knowing look.
"Ron was."
"Oh Ron. He never notices those kind of things," she replied, chuckling. "But you would notice them if it was me in your position."
"Maybe," he replied and joined her in her chuckling. "So, what do you think I should get him, then?"
"Oh, if you want my advice, then you'll have to do me a favour, Harry."
"Like what?" he asked, raising his eyebrow once more.
She stared at him for a moment. "Do you even know why I rather stay here with you when you know that I hate being cold, instead of sitting in the Gryffindor common room with the others?"
"You have your own quarters–"
"Harry, you know this is the only place where Ron won't bother me, he even shows up at my quarters from time to time." She huffed to emphasise her frustration about her ex still trying to convince her to come back, despite them having broken up only a month after starting their eighth year, after having already declined over a long period before returning to school―at least from her point of view; Ron still saw it differently.
"Yeah, I know. I'll talk to him, okay?" he said, putting his hand on hers that was still lying on his forearm.
"Thanks." She smiled at him in relief. "What do you think, want to use the next weekend to go shopping for gifts? Maybe I have an idea then of what you could get Malfoy..."
"Deal."
.xx.
On Tuesday, and just in front of her Arithmancy classroom, Hermione came across Zabini, who shared the class with her. "Zabini? Somewhat exactly the person I was looking for..."
"Granger, what an honour to have the Honourable Head Girl looking for me," he replied with a short, but still charming smile and a short raise of his eyebrows. "Already want to claim me for teamwork in class? Isn't that against the rules?"
"You people need to stop calling me that, you know?" She groaned, but then returned his smile. They had worked together before in class, and were on now rather friendly terms―which helped with her question.
"Oh, it's your new nickname in the Slytherin dungeons." He leaned against the wall, his bag with his books on the floor next to his feet.
"Well, at least it's better than what Slytherins uses to call me before," she replied tauntingly.
"True." He nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I think you wanted to ask me something..."
"Yes." She straightened her clothes to gain a few seconds before continuing; she wasn't exactly sure how to ask him. "I'm pretty sure you can keep secrets–"
"Half the dungeons would try to kill if I ever start telling what secrets I know. But go on."
"Only half the dungeons?" she retorted, and then looked around to see if anyone was close by that could overhear them. "I have a little problem―Malfoy and Harry drew each other for the Secret Santa, and they both asked me for advice. I have an idea what Malfoy could give Harry as a gift, but I'm stumped with what Harry could give Malfoy."
"A little problem?" He let out an amused laugh. And then―being more serious again―he threw a look towards the classroom door, which was thankfully still open, and so they had some time left. "I have an idea, Granger, but this information will cost you at least an afternoon date in Hogsmeade with me. Because Draco will kill me if he knows that I've given you this information–"
"I can keep secrets," Hermione interjected, annoyed at the allusion that she was a gossip like the other girls. "I just want them to stop pining after each other in secrecy after they almost managed to get together during Malfoy's hearing."
"Yes, I get what you mean. Draco keeps talking about Potter more often than I care to listen. Anyway..." He pulled her aside into the alcove just behind the door for some privacy. "Say yes to the afternoon date―I promise I will behave–"
"Why not?" she stopped him with a smirk. "If sitting next to you in Arithmancy is any indication, then it might actually turn out to be a nice afternoon..." Yes, since the beginning of their eighth year, the Slytherins had changed their attitudes quite a bit, and Zabini had turned out to be very agreeable company in class.
Blaise's smirk grew wider at her agreement. . "Well then, listen carefully, I will tell you this only once."
"Go on."
"And you will only give this information to Potter, no one else, or I will personally haunt you after Draco kills me, understood?"
"Yes, now please tell me, we don't have much time left."
"Yes, Miss Punctual." He glanced around once more, and then continued. "Draco has a fantasy―he likes to be bound in bed, likes to give up control to a person he trusts."
"Wow. The Malfoy I know doesn't really trust anyone," she replied in astonishment. "And how do you know that?"
He nodded. "Yeah, he's like that. But let's just say that some friendships aren't exclusively platonic, especially between two bored rich boys on their summer break."
"Okay, too much detail. But thanks for the information–"
"Wait, there's something else, but I won't say it out loud." He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill from his bag to scribble something down. "Give that to Potter when you tell him what to get Draco. Remember that I will personally haunt you, should this information get into someone else's hands..."
"Yes! I understood that–"
"No hanging around in hidden spots between classes," the Arithmancy teacher called them out when he passed them on his way into the classroom.
"We weren't hanging around, Professor," Hermione replied, discreetly storing the note in her blouse before following him, and Zabini, into the classroom.
.xx.
As promised to Harry, Hermione took him on a shopping trip through Hogsmeade the following weekend, along with Ginny and Ron. "So, you know what you want to give your recipient, Ginny?" she asked, trying to wrap her shawl tighter around her neck, while glancing backwards where Harry and Ron were discussing the latest tactics for the upcoming Quidditch game against Slytherin. The way Ron had behaved so far on their way to the village, Harry must have had his talk with him―he hadn't tried to get too close, and at least pretended to be in a good mood.
"He's the captain of the Hufflepuff team, as much as I know. So I'm going to get him a book on proper Quidditch practice. I mean they are just bad this year..."
"That is very cheeky, coming from you," Hermione said, chuckling. "By the way, where were you during the last practice? I didn't see you when I joined Harry in the stands."
"Oh, I tripped over something in my dorm―a couple of the girls are pretty sloppy―and sprained my knee. Madam Pomfrey said I should slow down for a couple of weeks and not train. I just hope I'm ready for the game against Slytherin. I so want to beat them this year!"
Hermione laughed at Ginny's enthusiasm―House unity only went so far, the Quidditch rivalry was still running high. "I hope you're ready for the game too."
"So what are going to give your Ravenclaw boy?" Ginny asked in return. "I mean, you know by now who it is, and what he might like?"
"Yes, It's Goldstein. I asked Luna for some information, and she told me that he's very adept with Charms. So I might give him a book about the more obscure ones, and the history behind it. I've written the name down because I have to order it via owl, but I can't remember it right now."
"That's a good idea..."
"It was a bit tough to find, but Madam Pince gave me the tip."
Ginny nodded, then turned towards the boys walking behind them, following them almost blindly through the village "You guys finished talking business?"
"Oh, come on, sister, we need to beat those snakes in the next game if we want to win the Cup," Ron replied. "It's only fair since I have to give one of them a gift. I mean, really. Pansy of all people?"
"What's wrong with Pansy? She is still a person, you know?" Hermione reminded him.
"Really?" Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Just like Malfoy, she was acquitted in a hearing. And she has changed a bit," Hermione countered. "Unlike you, I share a couple of classes with her, and she does quite well in Transfiguration."
Ron curled his lips in slight disgust. "You suddenly like them all, don't you?"
"No. I can just see past my previous prejudices and realise that most of them take the chance offered. Even Pansy. She's not perfect, but she tries, at least more than you," Hermione pointed out, only barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes; instead she rearranged her shawl.
With an irritated huff, Ron finally lifted his hands in an apologetic gesture. "All right. I'll try and find something nice for Pansy."
"That's better, brother," Ginny remarked, smirking. "I think I have just the right shop for you. She still has a cat, as far as I know." And with a side glance to Hermione, she grabbed her brother's hand to pull him away towards the menagerie at the end of the road.
"I remember the Polyjuice Potion incident in second year, when you mistook a hair of Pansy's cat for hers," Harry said when they were out of earshot, grinning teasingly at the memory.
Hermione groaned. "Please, I'm still trying to forget that. I had whiskers, for heaven's sake, and a tail!"
"You looked cute."
"I didn't." She poked Harry in jest. "Anyway, now let's go look for a gift for Malfoy. Ginny said she knew a shop just around the corner."
"I still can't believe what Blaise told you about him," he remarked, raking through his defiant mess of hair.
She started walking down the street, towards the sign of a clothing shop. "He didn't ask you to... when... you know?"
Harry shook his head, walking beside her, his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, but probably more to keep himself from fidgeting. "We were both too drunk that night. There wasn't really much going on..."
"It's okay," she replied when she heard the slightly embarrassed tone in his voice. "You really could have drawn someone worse than him, you know?" she added emphatically, then pointed at the entrance of the clothing shop. "Here we are. Ginny said it has an interesting corner in the back for the more naughty things. Let's check it out." With that, she pushed the door open and entered. "Oh, nice and warm..." She led Harry straight to the back to the corner she had mentioned.
"I didn't even know they had such a corner," Harry let out in surprise when he saw what the corner in the back really meant―a whole row of shelves with what Hermione had called naughty things.
"Can I help you find something?" the shop assistant asked, an elderly looking witch with a wink in her eye, and a friendly smile. "Depending on your tastes, I could recommend a few things that you might like–"
"We're just browsing a bit for a moment. We'll ask if we need to know more," Hermione replied with a polite smile before Harry could turn completely red; she saw that he had already seen something that might fit Zabini's information.
"Okay. I'll be at the front." The friendly shop assistant left them again.
"What did you see?" Hermione came closer when she saw that he was handling what looked like a piece of fabric; it turned out to be a set of sashes in deep emerald green.
"Do you really think that this is a good idea?" he asked, letting the fabric run through his fingers.
"Of course I do. Or I wouldn't have led you in here." She let her finger run over the fabric. "Oh gods, that is really soft. Silk?"
"Yes." He nodded. "He just doesn't have to act like a prat all the time, you know? Like I'm just good enough for some drunk fumbling, but not good enough to be seen together?"
"Harry, I told you, he's probably just confused, that's all."
"Yeah, I know you said that." He sighed, and folded the fabric in his hands. "I take those. And I seriously hope I get to use them on him, making him beg, after avoiding me like that."
"Too much information, Harry!" Hermione covered her ears, laughing embarrassed, then continued glancing over the available articles in the shelf. "Wow..." She took up a bottle. "Magical massaging oil, enhances the sexual stimulation in the person receiving the massage," she read with interest. "I so need to try that out."
Harry grabbed the bottle from her hands, and lifted the lid for a short sniff. "I'll take that as well," he then said, with a wink; Hermione thought for a short moment she could see a spark of desire in his eyes.
"I see," she replied teasingly. "You have plans."
"Maybe." He started walking through the rest of the shelves, when his gaze fell on something else on display. "Look at those," he whispered, and let his hand ran over a pair of dark burgundy leather gloves.
"They're gorgeous," Hermione agreed, and let her fingers ran over the leather as well. "Dragon hide leather?"
Harry took up the tag. "Yes, dragon hide. But way too expensive." He sighed, trying to hide his disappointment.
However, Hermione now had an idea what Malfoy could give him as a gift; Harry wasn't just admiring them for a moment, his sigh had a longing, needy undertone. Yes, that would be the perfect gift idea for Draco to give him. "Come on, let's go pay. I still need to go to the Owlery."
.xx.
"Granger, a word."
Hermione was just on her way to lunch when she was grabbed by the hand and pulled aside into a corner of the Great Hall. "Malfoy, what's the matter?" she asked, swatting at his shoulder in response to him surprising her like this.
"I received my Secret Santa gift today," he replied, about to burst into an excited grin. "Green silk sashes."
Hermione could only barely hold back from correcting him that they were actually emerald green to be exact, but that would have given away too much. "I never thought I'd see you grin like this, Malfoy, it's almost creepy." Despite him grinning excitedly being rather unexpected―and probably something she should savour―it made her smile too.
"Sorry, that gift was just perfect! It's just that no one knows about that except for Blaise, how could they possibly know? I mean it can't be Blaise because the rules clearly state that the giver and receiver have to be from different Houses..." He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, his eyes squinting slightly in the process. "Or, do you know something, Granger?"
"Why should I?" she countered as innocently as she could; of course she knew who had given him his gift, she had helped choose it after all.
"Oh, come on. You do know something," he coaxed her, pointing at her eyes. "You always were a terrible liar; your eyes always betray you..."
She smirked and raised her eyebrow to tease him. "Malfoy, I'm not allowed to tell you anyway, even if I knew something."
"Please. I don't want make a fool out of myself, that information is something really private. And Blaise wouldn't tell just anyone about this. You know who it is–"
"Maybe I do. All I can say is that you shouldn't worry, okay? Maybe that person even likes you..."
"You think?"
She nodded, but that was really all she could let on without violating the rules of the game.
"Okay." His excited grin returned. "Then I'm probably going to snog the life out of that person!"
That remark made Hermione laugh out loud, his enthusiasm was so unlike Malfoy; but she was glad that Harry's gift had been perfect. "You will have to wait until Revelation Day," she finally said, still giggling. "But did you get Harry what I told you to?"
Draco nodded. "He's right, they are gorgeous―and expensive. He should have received them by now..."
"Hey, you can afford them!"
"Of course I can, but I hope they are worth the investment. Or I'll reconsider owing you a favour..."
"That is not negotiable, Malfoy." Hermione straightened her clothes; she knew the gloves were totally worth the investment, given his reaction to the sashes.
"What did you get?" he then asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"I think it's called a Pleasure Feather... And the way you look, you know who it is. It has to be a Slytherin."
"Maybe, maybe not." He shrugged, and raised his eyebrow knowingly.
She returned the raised eyebrow, with a snort. "You do know something."
"To use your own words, I'm not allowed to tell you... But I'm pretty sure you're going to like it."
She let out a small desperate moan, but then nodded. "Okay... I'll let you know what his reaction was, but now I'm hungry, and I haven't much time until my first afternoon class starts."
"See you in Potions, then." He let her pass back towards the main passage through the tables, so that she could walk over to the Gryffindor table where her friends were already seated.
"What did he say?" Harry asked impatiently, as Hermione sat down next to him.
"I think you saw his grin, Harry," she replied, filling her plate with vegetables, and other things that looked delicious. "He loves them."
"What did you give him, Harry?" Ron asked, his mouth full with stew.
"Did you get Pansy that gift for her cat?" Hermione asked, before her first load of vegetables in her mouth, which were delicious as always. Swallowing, she leaned towards Harry. "He said he'd snog the life out of the person who gave him those sashes," she whispered, and watched the grin on Harry's face broaden in anticipation. "See? I told you it would work."
"Again, what did you get him, Harry?" Ron repeated his questions, this time after swallowing.
"Just a tie," Harry replied evasively and dug into his plate, still grinning broadly. "What did you get?"
Ron shrugged. "Just a pack of chocolate frogs, actually," he said and filled his fork again.
"I got an exclusive print of the biography about the Harpies, with autographs from every current team member," Ginny threw in excitedly. "But you should have seen Hermione's face when she opened hers," she added with an amused grin. "Always wanted one of those Pleasure Feathers..."
"Really? You got one of those?" Ron asked, his mouth open in apparent surprise. "You never said that you liked those kind of things–"
"You never asked what I liked, Ron," Hermione retorted in a more serious tone. "And yes, I got one of those, and I will test it tonight."
"It's okay, I get it. I was selfish, is that good enough? Can we change the subject now?" Ron retorted, rather testily, grabbing a pudding for dessert.
"I got the gloves we were looking at in the shop," Harry mentioned, finishing his plate. "So, I think you know who my giver is, because no one else knew I wanted them–"
"Oh, you wanted them badly, Harry," Hermione teased him.
"Yes. They're perfect."
"I never thought dragon hide leather would be so soft," Ron remarked, having finished his pudding. "And they look really expensive. Not many people can afford them."
"Even if I knew, I'm not allowed to tell you, you know the rule..." Both boys let out a disappointed sigh, which made Hermione smile. "We all know soon enough."
.xx.
Revelation Day was conveniently on the day of the Big Christmas Feast, and there were lists hanging in every common room, as well as in the Great Hall, attracting tropes of students to check who their Secret Santa was―a lot of groaning and low cheering consequently filled the halls.
Hermione wasn't in a hurry to run down the stairs to find out who her Secret Santa was when she woke up that day―the lists will remain up until Christmas break anyway―though she was curious who had given her the Pleasure Feather, a gift that definitely deserved its name. It was almost lunch time when she finally made her way down to the Great Hall to check the list; she had her own quarters, and didn't want to make a detour to the Gryffindor common room to check the list there, plus she was hungry, anyway.
Ginny was already sitting at the Gryffindor table, filling her plate, and waved at her when she entered the Great Hall. "You should have heard the others groan when they checked the list in the common room," Ginny said when she joined Hermione in front of the list. "And half the Slytherin table were making sour faces, funny to watch..."
Hermione nodded, trying to find the section starting with G, where she would be listed. "I can imagine. They might have changed quite a bit, but they still prefer to stay amongst themselves sometimes..."
"Maybe." Ginny shrugged. "By the way, Ron's secret Santa was the Hufflepuff captain–"
"Really? And all he got was Chocolate Frogs?" Hermione shortly looked at her friend in surprise, who nodded with a big grin. "Ah, there is section G..." She followed the names all the way down to those starting with Gr. "Who was yours?"
"Astoria Greengrass."
"She gave you a pretty good gift actually," Hermione remarked. "Ah! Found it! What? Zabini?"
"What? Zabini gave you that Pleasure Feather?"
"According to the list, yes." She pointed at her name, grinning. "Here."
"Cool."
"Yes, could have been much worse. I share Arithmancy with him, actually quite nice to work with."
"I suppose." Ginny nodded towards their table. "Breakfast?"
"Yes, I'm starving! By the way, have you seen Harry yet?" Hermione started walking over, very much looking forward to a nice big cup of orange juice and a plate full of breakfast.
"No, not yet. Ron said he got up early to check the list in our common room, and then disappeared." Ginny sat down next to her. "According to the list, those gloves came from Malfoy? How did he know that Harry is into them?"
"Yes." Hermione nodded, loading a couple of sausages on her plate. "Actually, they both asked me for advice–"
"Ah, I see. You decided to play matchmaker then..."
"Maybe..." Hermione replied with a wink, and added some toast and marmalade to her breakfast plate. "But we'll know soon enough if it worked."
.xx.
"Granger, finally! I hope you haven't forgotten our little arrangement..." Blaise came towards her while she was searching through the halls for Harry―and in extension, Draco as well.
"Zabini! Of course not, I was looking forward to it. You promised a nice afternoon in Hogsmeade, after all," she replied, raising a teasing eyebrow. "You haven't seen Malfoy or Harry by any chance yet?"
"I've only seen Draco storm out of the dungeons after he checked the list. I haven't ever seen him grin that broadly."
"Yes. Ginny told me something similar about Harry," Hermione added with a nod.
"Your plan seems to have worked then." He offered her his arm. "Let's search together, then I'll take you out to Hogsmeade."
"All right, let's go find them." Hermione hooked her arm in, and they went on their search. "Your present was perfect by the way. How did you know I'd like it?"
"A very educated guess," Blaise replied in a teasing tone. "Some bird told me you like to experiment, unlike some redhead."
"Ah I see, Malfoy told you..." She chuckled. It had only shortly been a subject between her and Malfoy, on a homework session in the library when everything else was more interesting than the essay they had to write for Potions.
"Well, since he is on such good terms with you, I thought it was only fair to ask him for advice. You did the same after all, asking me for advice about him..."
"Yes, I did. Who was your Santa?"
"One of those girls from Ravenclaw. None of whom are as charming as you, though."
"So, you wish it had been me?"
"Maybe..." he teased, smirking, before the next classroom door. "Empty. You sure they are on this floor?"
She shook her head. "I'm checking floor by floor. They have to be somewhere, as eager as they both disappeared."
"True. Next room then," Blaise said, nodding, and pointed to the next door.
However, the whole floor turned out empty, and they went on with their search, until about half an hour later, they finally found their friends.
"Granger, in here," Blaise whispered, dragging her gently along. "Your plan has definitely worked, you little matchmaker..."
And then, Hermione dared to take a look through the slightly opened door, with Blaise behind her blocking any further trespassing views; what she saw made her grin broadly and very contentedly. Yes, the plan had definitely worked, and for a short moment, she wondered whether the school administrations had any hand in it as well.
"Potter is a good looking bloke, I have to admit," Blaise whispered.
"Yes, comes from all his Quidditch training," Hermione replied, her eyes glued on the two topless figures in front of her.
.xx.
Harry was leaning against a student's desk in the front row, with Draco leaning into him, kissing him hard. To Hermione's surprise, it was Draco who wore the Dragon hide gloves―apparently Harry loved to be touched with them. Their trousers were still up, but opened at the front, and it was apparent that neither of them had chosen to wear anything underneath it; Harry was definitely enjoying the moment, kissing Draco back just as hard and demanding.
Draco let his gloved hands roam freely over Harry's upper body, while he seemed to grind his hips into Harry's in slow, sensual moves, encouraged by the moans she could hear coming from Harry.
In response to Draco's grinding, Harry let his hands slip beneath Draco's trousers to play with his arse. One specific move down the middle―Hermione guessed what he was playing with―made Draco buck involuntarily and moan rather loudly; he even broke off the kiss, only to whisper something into Harry's ear.
.xx.
"Looks like your friend got the hint," Blaise remarked on Draco's response to Harry's teasing.
"Was that what you wrote in the note for Harry?"
"Ah, the good friend you are, not reading notes, and stuff." He let out a short laugh. "But Potter is in good hands, believe me. Draco knows how to play."
"Speaking from experience, then?" she teased, without looking up, but starting to fish for her small bag.
"Of course. But Draco could have chosen worse, Potter seems to know a fair bit too."
"He does." She nodded, pulling a piece of parchment and her quill to write something down.
"You want to congratulate them?" Blaise asked amused when he saw her scribble down something.
She chuckled. "No. Just leaving them a note that they could use my quarters as long as I'm out on that date with you. Privacy and everything." She then folded the piece of parchment and let it float to the desk next to the one Harry was leaning against. "Oh my gods! Are they really rubbing them against each other?"
Blaise nodded, a knowing grin on his face, and leaned down to her. "Feels surprisingly good, you know?"
"Don't tell me you're getting jealous now," she replied, chuckling.
"Oh no, we just played around over a summer. That's all." He straightened himself again and took a step back. "Okay, let's leave them alone. I don't want to get killed by Draco for ruining this. And there is still that afternoon date I promised you."
Hermione moved away from the door as well, closing it in the process, then adding a Silencing Charm as well as a small Confounding Charm to keep anyone else from walking in on them. Of all students, those two were in the most need of some privacy―Harry because he is seen as the Saviour of the wizarding world, and Draco because of everything his family name entails. "Okay, ready to go." She pulled her coat and a thick shawl out of her small bag.
"I think we're both going to enjoy this," Blaise said, leading her towards the main entrance of the castle. "To a nice afternoon."
"To a nice afternoon." Hermione was sure that she wasn't the only one who was going to have a great time before the Big Feast―most definitely not from what she had seen just moments before.
END
The Prompt
Harry/Draco - The 8th Years are playing Secret Santa! And of course Harry gets Draco. He's determined to give him the perfect gift. Or maybe the other way around and Draco gets Harry? Or both! They get each other! Up to you! :)
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