A dreary night, in dreary company. Judging by last Christmas, this was good news for Hermione Granger. Nothing could possibly be worse than a Christmas that left her with a broken wrist and a dead owl in her lap. Not to mention the mouldy cake.
They had just arrived at the Ministry. For the festive season, it had been converted into something resembling a winter palace; ice sculptures, sprawling snow-glittered flooring and no less than thirty Christmas trees. Hermione took the lead. Her boyfriend, Ron, held her hand, trailing behind her as they walked through the crowds towards a table near the centre of the room. The table decorations left little room for anything else, so Hermione refused a drink from a nearby waiter and took a seat. Ron followed quietly.
"Glad you could make it." Harry grinned at her from across the table. She returned the favour, albeit meekly, and nodded at Ron.
"He doesn't want to be here." she rolled her eyes as Ron huffed, rolling his eyes at Harry.
"No surprises, it's a bit much." Harry gestured towards the crowds of women on the improvised dancefloor: an abundance of feathers and jewellery, with dresses of all colours that went on forever. Hermione shrugged, looking down at her simple green dress and sighed. An exaggerated clock, complete with real snowflakes and candles hung on the wall. It read almost nine in the evening. Even the hand that counted the seconds was moving slowly.
"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked.
Harry's smile disappeared, and he looked down. "Couldn't make it."
Hermione touched his arm, offering a sad smile. She wanted to say "it will all work out", but knew it would not. Ginny was stubborn, Hermione too; she knew the end result, but she dared not say it.
"Surprised Malfoy isn't here." Ron mumbled, ploughing through the awkward silence. He looked at Hermione, and took her hand in his.
"Oh, he is," Harry looked up, "he was being civil when I saw him earlier, bit quiet, better than insults I guess."
"He only has nothing to say because no one wants to hear it any more." Ron grumbled, looking around, "Where's the drinks?"
A waiter promptly appeared at his side. Ron brushed a wreath onto the floor and took the whole tray from the waiter, placing it on the table. He took a drink and swallowed hard. Harry laughed, grabbing one too.
"Hopefully I won't have to remember tonight." they chuckled loudly, attracting the attention of nearby tables. Heat rose in Hermione's cheeks.
"I'm going to find the bathroom." she muttered, leaving for the double doors at the front of the hall. It took several minutes for her to push through the ridiculous dresses that blocked her way, but the fresh air made up for it. She found the corridor leading to her destination, and made for it. Her way was blocked by a queue of more than twenty women. Growling under her breath, Hermione made for the gardens, craving even fresher air and a break from the chamber music that had plagued her ears since they arrived.
The garden was empty. Hermione sat on a metal bench, staring out into the inky sky. She inhaled the scent of fresh snow, most of which has landed just an hour before, still drooping on the trees' leaves and coating the ground in a fresh sheet, still untouched.
"Hello?" Someone sat beside her. Hermione turned, face to face with a vaguely recognisable woman.
"Hi?"
"You don't mind do you?" The woman struggled to fit her dress into the space next to Hermione. The vivid blue material fell awkwardly on Hermione's knees, the clash of dark green and turquoise painful to the eye.
"Astoria Malfoy?" she asked, lifting the dress from her legs and setting it aside. Astoria laughed.
"Greengrass," she mumbled, finally settling down, "Draco doesn't want to get married."
"I see." Hermione bit her lip, looking away. She thought of Ron, and imagined him telling her the same. It struck a chord in her heart.
"Where is Ma-, Draco, anyway?"
"No idea," Astoria looked at her, eyes lacking the sparkle Hermione usually saw in pictures of her in witches' magazines. "he's been really quiet lately."
"Oh." Hermione caught her gaze for a second before looking away, the intensity of her stare burning her.
"Sorry," she snapped from her reverie, flashing a brief smile before resuming her staring, now focused into the gloom, "are you married?"
Hermione shook her head, frowning. Astoria did not notice.
"Astoria?" an even more familiar face appeared in front of Hermione, causing her frown to deepen. As always, Draco Malfoy was suited and booted in finery, but his face lacked the haughty expression and smug smile. Had it not been for his flashing grey eyes, Hermione would not have recognised him.
"Draco," Astoria smiled, climbing to her feet and hugging him tightly. He lightly rested his arm on her shoulder, only to quickly retract it. "Where have you been?"
"Catching up with some old friends."
Hermione's frown disappeared as she tried to suppress a giggle: did the oafs Crabbe and Goyle count as friends?
"Oh, okay," Astoria's smile radiating like a flash light, "shall we go inside, it's cold?"
Draco looked down at Hermione, "No, I like it out here. I'll catch you up."
Astoria kissed his cheek before leaving. Hermione rose to her feet as Draco took a seat next to her. He looked straight at her, brows furrowed.
"Do you still hate me?"
"You need a lot of emotion to hate someone. You never deserved that emotion."
He shrugged, settling back into the chair. A hand found his jaw, which he held as he mimicked Astoria's previous surveillance of the gardens. Hermione waited, standing with her legs still touching the bench, unmoving.
"I'm going." she murmured, stepping forward onto the paved walkway the curved back towards the well-lit hall.
"Bye."
She trudged back to the hall. As she reached the doors, she saw Astoria sitting alone at a table, surrounded by people, none of whom spoke to her.
"Astoria needs you." She called out, taking hold of the handle and pulling the door open.
"I know." Draco replied, his response almost inaudible as Hermione returned to the commotion of the Christmas Ball. She found Ron and Harry still seated at their table. Their expressions were surprisingly sober.
"What's wrong with you two?" Hermione returned to her seat. Ron quickly took her hand again.
"I still remember everything."
"We've only been here half an hour, of course you're going to remember everything."
Harry chuckled, nudging Ron with his knee, "I told you so." Ron grumbled, releasing Hermione's hand and leaning forward on his elbows.
"Seen Malfoy?" he asked, glancing at her.
"Yeah, he looked like Harry said," Hermione took a swig of one of few the remaining drinks, "Looked quite sad, was strange."
"He's a sad git, what do you expect."
"I saw Astoria too." Hermione looked back at the woman in question, who was still by herself, "I don't think they are very happy."
"Someone needs marriage counselling." Ron smiled at Hermione. Drink had made his face redder, like a great smiling tomato. His look was infectious; she found herself smiling back.
"Something like that."
"Lucky for some," Harry downed another drink, "wish Gin was here."
"Oh Harry," Hermione titled her head to the side, watching as he swirled his drink around his glass, staring at the liquid with narrowed eyes, "she'll be back."
"Not right now though, not when she should!"
Harry rose from his seat and left the hall. Many eyes followed his retreating figure, two of which belonged to Astoria. On Harry's exit, she took his seat next to Hermione, smiling.
"Sorry, again," she said, "I don't really know anyone here."
"Most of them are toffs anyway." Ron grimaced, playing with the snowflakes scattered on the tablecloth. Hermione forced a smile, seeing Astoria's confused face, knowing that she was exactly the kind of person Ron would call a 'toff'. A silence commenced. Hermione found something other than Astoria to look at; the clock was the first thing to catch her eye. It now read almost ten o'clock. An improvement on an hour ago, but still two hours less than etiquette required them to stay for. She sighed, searching the crowd. There were definitely more women than men, most of the young, most of them dressed to impress. A few faces were recognisable: Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson, with several other girls the same age, all huddled round a table on which sat a man. He was a Quidditch player – Ron would know his name – and possessed a face which had an immense power over the girls. Hermione ignored their cackles and surveyed the rest of the room.
"Oh, Draco!" Astoria called from Hermione's left. She turned, finding Draco Malfoy standing a few feet away, an animal in the headlights. "Come, sit down." Astoria pulled him by the arm over the table, and set up a chair for him.
"Astoria-"
"What? It's called socialising, Draco, you should do more of it."
"I was in fact in the middle of a conversation with someone." he muttered, looking at Ron, exasperated. Hermione saw Ron ingest his expression, expecting fireworks. Ron grinned, shaking his head and looking back down at the snowflakes, tossing them over with his fingers.
"Well I want you to join this conversation." Astoria voice hardened, and she took his hand in hers, her knuckles visibly white.
"We were just leaving..." Hermione said, looking between Ron and Astoria. Ron smirked again, sitting back in his chair.
"Maybe we should stay," Ron started, still smirking, "it's been a long time, Malfoy."
"Not quite long enough to miss you yet, Mr Weasley."
"Mr Weasley? When did you start calling me that?" Ron looked between Draco and Hermione, jaw slackened. Hermione folded her arms over her chest, watching the two men stare at each other. Ron was sneering; Draco was simply watching his opponent.
"Like you said, four years is a long time. I'd like to think you have matured since then, enough to address someone properly." Draco sighed, rubbing his brow with his free hand. Astoria, fondled his hair, warranting his hand to spring forward and push hers away. She retreated, sinking into her chair. Ron laughed.
"Your manners may have matured, Malfoy," Ron took a sip of his drink, holding his gaze, "But your taste in women clearly hasn't."
Draco chuckled, looking straight at Hermione. Hermione, who had been watching their badly disguised insult throwing, expected to see his lips curl in disgust. Instead, he simply stared; long enough to make her look away, but not long enough for Ron to notice.
"I'm never going to find a woman with the intellectual capacity of your wife," Draco looked down at Hermione's hands, "girlfriend," then back to Ron, "so I might as well have one who is stupid enough to fall in love with me in the first place."
Ron chucked heartily, "You managed to say something nice about someone for once, well done."
Draco pulled his hand away from Astoria and leaned forward on the table, "You make it sound like you want me to insult Miss Granger."
"Of course, Malfoy, so I have a good enough reason to smack you one."
"Ron!" Hermione erupted, glaring at him. He ignored her. "We're going, I've had enough of this."
Hermione grabbed a yelping Ron and stamped away through the crowd. Astoria called out her name, but she ignored her, desperately searching for a fireplace, her cheeks burning hot. Ron grumbled as she pulled him into the fire, muttering their home address before disappearing into the green flames.
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