Summary: A Romantic Drom/Com one-shot
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, and this story and it's original characters are mine. Contact before reproduction.
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: T
A/N: The idea to do a one-shot had been spinning around in my head for some time, but I had no serious intention of writing one until 4 days before the story was ready to be published. I just thought a Christmas one-shot would be nice to do. It borrows a little bit from the other Dramione stories I've written, and I think that made it a lot easier. It was a lot of fun to write - even if it was thrown together at the last minute.
The story is simple with a feel good ending; the plot is pretty much complete, but don't expect a plot twist ending to rival O Henry.
G.S.
Under The Mistletoe
Making a desperate lunge for the alarm, Hermione missed the button on top of the clock and clumsily knocked the whole works off the bedside table. It hit the floor with a 'kerplunk' then fell silent.
"Damn," she muttered and rolled back over. Almost asleep again, the clock's alarm regained life only to beat louder than ever against the hard wooden floor.
"Damn."
She struggled to sit up and threw her hands to her head. A cracking headache – complete with bleary eyes and a runny nose. It was Saturday morning with two days left until Christmas. She still hadn't got a single lousy gift; but she bravely vowed over the wine last night that she'd finish her shopping in one day. This day.
Last Christmas had been the first Christmas she'd ever spent alone – and she thought it would be the last until this year. But this year she was really alone, and to get over the thought of being alone she had watched too many late night films. Too many late films, too much salted popcorn, and too much wine. Way too much wine.
In the bathroom she found aspirins for the headache, and decongestants for the runny nose. After a long recuperation under a hot shower, she was hardly the worse for wear. Sliding into a threadbare pair of jeans and loose fitting ballet flats, she paused for a moment in front of the mirror to lament her smallish tits. She quickly put her head through an over-sized cardigan and put the thought behind her. Clipping the bushy hair at the nape of the neck, the long ends fanned out about the shoulders cleanly.
All her stomach could bear this morning was coffee and toast over the morning's paper. Her still bleary eyes made the reading difficult so she put the paper down and thought about Friday night. Harry and Ginny had invited her to a party at their place but she'd backed out at the last minute. She knew Ginny was still trying to fix her up with that Quidditch player with the Chudley Cannons. The guy was nice, but just not her type, so she had elected to stay home and watch movies. Scanning through the channels, the beginning of one stuck in mind like a broken record.
She chuckled at the lyrics of the wildly themed intro. It was one of those all weekend action flicks continuations.
And Love is the Stranger who'll Beckon you On – Don't think of the Danger or the Stranger is Gone.
Well, she'd thought about the danger – all her life. And there had been no strangers for the past year. At least not any to write home about. And she felt alone – totally alone. At least she would get to spend Christmas day with Ginny and Harry.
Cursing herself lightly, she jumped up to dress for shopping. Damn-it if she would stay home and feel sorry for herself a moment longer.
‡‡‡‡‡
It hadn't seemed that long ago to Hermione that Diagon Alley at Christmas time felt like the most special place on earth. The peddler's carts clattered by on cobblestone streets illuminated by streetlamps adorned with holly wreaths, ribbons, and bows. The festive season produced a cacophony of sounds from the bustling traffic to the chorus of carolers and the cackling of so many vendors and shoppers. Smells of pastries baking, scented candles, and evergreens coalesced into a smell genuinely Christmas. So many shop windows and doors were adorned with little twinkling and blinking lights and it seemed good cheer and bright spirits were especially contagious along the narrow alley.
But not this year. If anything, the alley on this year seemed to amplify her feeling of loneliness. On top of that the weather was threatening to go sour. The cold air and dark clouds were descending to the very alley itself and the threat of sleet and snow appeared very real.
Every year Hermione gave books – all kinds of books as Christmas gifts, and as much as she loved giving them she could never understand why some didn't reflect the same joy in receiving them. Oh well, it really didn't matter. They were getting books and they might as well like them, she told herself with rigid determination. In addition to Harry and Ginny, little Teddy Lupin would be spending the day with his Godfather and Hermione had a number of ideas for him.
Flourish and Blotts, the first shop on her list, appeared completely packed on this afternoon. The clerk appeared to having difficulty finding one of the books on her list.
"I'm sorry Miss, but I can't find Wand Psychology and the Wizard by Wiley Underwood," she admitted sorrowfully. "If I put in a quick order now, we might get it from the publisher before Christmas."
"Thanks, but I'll check around first before I take a chance," Hermione said, trying not to show her disappointment. She had really wanted to get this book for Harry. It was possible Obscurus Books or Whizz Hard Books might have it in stock.
There were half a dozen books from her list sitting on the counter. Several were oversized moving picture books for Teddy.
"I'll just take what I have here," she added and paid the clerk. She checked her coat pocket for the beaded bag with the undetectable extension charm.
"Oh my goodness," she cried, "I've left it at home."
"You've forgotten something Miss?" the clerk asked.
"Yes I have – but you have bags. Can you manage?"
"I'm sorry Miss, but we're all out of the large bags. It's the Christmas rush, you know," she apologized.
"I'll never manage all these. Can you wrap and bind them?"
"I'd be happy to," the clerk replied, helpfully.
With the books divided into two piles, the clerk had done a passable job of wrapping and binding the books in twine. Hermione paid the witch and headed off in the direction of Obscurus books, hoping to find the last one for Harry. Holding onto the books by the binding strings, Hermione made her way gently through the crowded alley. A portly gent, smallish with an oversized belly, was talking to a lady friend and paying little to no attention to shoppers in front of him. Hermione noticed his wandering path all too late to avoid the collision.
Hermione stifled a short scream – the Portly man jiggled and uttered a quick apology, but the binding on one group of books had broken and Hermione's Christmas gifts were on the street.
"I'm so sorry," the man pleaded.
Hermione looked at the books scattered on the ground and then her right hand trapped in the binding of the other pile.
"How will I ever manage?" she asked, to no one in particular.
Completely out of the scene and very much out of her span of attention came an answer.
"I'll help with that," the masculine voice said just as Hermione began to reach down for the first book. The voice was strangely familiar. Stunned, she jerked around to see who was connected to the helping hand sweeping down to snatch up the books.
A tallish figure in a midnight blue great-coat with blonder than blonde forelocks was quickly grabbing up all three books. Only after a long pause was the identity of the good Samaritan clear.
"Draco? Draco Malfoy?"
He smiled and stuffed the books protectively under his arm.
"At your service - and don't look so shocked Granger."
"Can I have my books back please?"
"Relax, I'll carry them for you," he said, now grinning.
"Thanks, but that isn't necessary."
He eyed her critically.
"It looks like it is. Where to next?"
Hermione snorted, but gave way to Malfoy's persistence.
"Have it your way then. I was going to Obscurus books."
"More books? You must have a lot of lucky friends."
Hermione quickly noticed Draco was carrying no gifts of his own.
"Well, either you have unlucky friends or no friends at all."
"Touche Granger. It's the later."
"Where's all your Slytherin buddies?"
"They're still around – just not tonight."
After more back and forth bantering they found themselves just a few footsteps from the doorway to Obscurus Books. Draco made a show of quickly grabbing the door and Hermione went straight-away through the crowd and up to the counter. She finally got the clerks attention and pointed to Harry's book on the list. All this time Draco was looking around the shop like he'd never been on the inside of a bookstore before.
Experiencing a longer than expected delay, the clerk came back with a smile to match the oversized tome.
"Didn't think I'd find that one," she said while Hermione thanked her and went digging through her bag for the money. She paid the girl and looked over her growing pile.
"Oh, by the way – you wouldn't have carry bags for these? I'm in a bit of a spot here."
The clerk looked at the books – first Hermione's and then the pile Draco was carrying. She ducked under the counter and pulled out some heavy duty bags with cord handles. She quickly stuffed Hermione's pile in one bag and went for Draco's pile, which he seemed to offer up with some reluctance.
Hermione grabbed the change off the counter and turned toward Draco.
"Well, thanks for the help. It was nice to run into you," she said without a trace of genuine feeling.
She managed a polite smile and reached for the bags, but once again Draco beat her to the punch.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."
"I am trying to get rid of you," she said with a laugh. "So what gives?"
"How about a cup of spiced tea or hot chocolate or whatever grabs you at the Leaky Cauldron – and I'll tell you."
Hermione looked the wizard hard in the eyes for any clue. It was either a prank, or he had something genuine to tell her, or he was hitting on her. It had been so long since anyone had hit on her she didn't know if she could recognize it. It didn't seem like a prank, but neither could she imagine what on earth he could possibly want to tell her. Now she was a bit curious. She felt her wand through her coat pocket just in case the bastard did have something rotten on his mind.
"I guess I could stand to take a load off for a few minutes," she replied and raised one brow.
"Good, let's go," he said smiling and led her to the door.
The cold damp air had turned into something heavier as sleet began to fall in tiny pellets. Outside, the enthusiastic Christmas crowd was still passing over the alley in an endless wave. The Leaky Cauldron was still a fair walk away.
"Haven't seen you around – what are you doing these days?" Draco began.
"Working for the Ministry," she snapped back.
"That figures – doing what?"
"I'm in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." That should keep him in line she thought. "What about you?"
"Ah, nothing that formal. Just doing my best to stay of of trouble while I manage some of my families business interests."
"How's that working out?" she asked and he laughed the question away.
"You were dating Weasley when the war ended," he asked, eager to drop the work banter.
"Yes, and you Astoria?" came the quick repartee.
"Yes, that's right."
Hermione had a feeling that he already knew she and Ron had broken up. Gossip travels fast even if she didn't know his status with Astoria.
"Are you two still..." she gently pried.
"Together you mean?"
Before she could get his answer, he was opening the passageway to the Cauldron. He waited until the clattering of bricks came to an end before he addressed the question.
"No, we're not," he said and reached for the back door. Inside, they were greeted first by the smokey air, and then Hannah Abbott, the new proprietor. She looked at the pair rather oddly and then seated them at a nice table not too far from the huge fireplace. She dropped the menu's and left after taking their drink orders.
"You knew I wasn't seeing Ron, didn't you?"
Draco chuckled and nodded.
"Yeah, I knew. And sorry for being so insistent on this, but I still think Weasley is a fool. You seeing anyone new?"
Hermione paused to study the question. The truth seemed far too depressing to wade into now.
"No one serious," she lied. " And what about you? You and Astoria?"
"You know... if it hadn't have been for you lot in the Room of Requirements that night... I wouldn't be here. I seriously thank you for that."
Hermione looked at at Draco – was he really for real or was this all bullshit. She finally laughed.
"Are you going to answer the question or what?" she re-iterated.
The much filled out figure, since Hogwarts, looked back at her with smiling eyes. If it wasn't for all the unbearable shit he had hurled at her during those same years, she might go so far as to saying the bastard had turned out to be damn good looking.
"We were paired up together when we were both very young. We had little to do with it. Our parents thought we were a good pureblood pairing... you understand that, I'm sure," he described his relationship with Astoria.
Hermione shook her head. "Not really," she said though a smile.
"No, I guess I gave you enough shite for that, didn't I?"
"You sure as hell did."
"Well, and I'm sorry about that now, and and lot of other things as well, but I've changed," he announced proudly.
"Bullshit."
"No, I have. Really. So what about you and the Weasel – I thought you two were made for each other?"
Hermione nodded sideways.
"I thought we were in love. I thought it was real. I was wrong. You remember Lavender Brown?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah, but she was killed at the battle – right?"
"For sure, but she had a kid sister – real cute. Turned out, the two met and Ron began consoling her about Lavender," she said through squinting eyes.
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"No, but he began shagging her shortly after that."
"Oh," Draco said nodding, "I see."
"Last Christmas we were fighting – but this year is different – much worse," she mused.
"Yeah, I know the feeling."
"Do you?" she asked and looked at Draco for an answer over the rim of the cup of hot chocolate.
"I think so. You don't believe me?"
So he was just hitting on her. A few sad tales about how he and Astoria had broken up – a few girls on the rebound and then these two purebloods would be back in each others arms in no time.
"I don't think you do Draco."
"Why not Granger?"
"I think you two are having a row. It may be a long one. But you'll work it out before long," she added, slyly. "You're made for each other."
"That's not true Granger."
"Really, why not Malfoy?"
For a moment it was like they were in school again. For a moment, anger and then frustration flashed through Malfoy's eyes.
"Well, for one thing it's been six months."
"Really," she added with a tone of disinterest.
"My father went to Azkaban for his part in the war," he said, changing tacks and Hermione nodded solemnly.
"You're lucky you didn't," she injected.
"I know – and the whole thing was wrong."
"You won't find an argument about that here."
"Well, I didn't want my life turning out like that."
Again, Hermione watched Draco keenly but didn't answer.
"The problem with Astoria," he began and Hermione's interest peaked, "is that none of that matters to her. Hell... I'm not so sure I mattered. What mattered to her was making her family and my family happy. It was about settling down in Malfoy Manor. It was about continuing the well-to-do lifestyle she was accustomed to. It had so little to do with me. We would have raised little bastard children just like I'd turned out. And the point of it is: She would have never given a rat's arse one way or the other."
Hermione sat down the cup, taking full notice of Malfoy now.
"You see, there was no way I could have changed with her," he went on. "And my friends as you asked. Hell, they're worse than I am. They're still friends I suppose – but they're not the kind I need to surround myself with everyday. They understand nothing of what I'm telling you – nor do they appear to give a damn."
A silence fell over the table. Malfoy took a drink of his spiced tea while looking aimlessly over the room. When he looked back at Hermione, he looked for an answer.
"Wow, you have changed," she admitted although she was far from believing every word. The Leopard just didn't change his spots she thought, while at the same time hating the vernacular.
Draco nodded deeply.
"That's an interesting story Draco. And I'm glad to hear it – I mean some of it."
"Yeah, same here. Sorry Weasley turned out to be such a dick-head," he added and Hermione laughed.
"You were always trying to tell me that."
"Yeah – guess I was. But I hate that I was right."
Hermione still found it curious that he was in the Alley among the Christmas shoppers with no gifts of his own.
"So where you spending Christmas," she quizzed.
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Not at home that's for sure."
"Really? Why not?"
"Mum is stilled pissed at me for breaking it off with Astoria. On top of that she's always complaining I'm not doing enough to get father out Azkaban. As if I could do anything to get him out. Anyway, we have a nice cottage by the lake. It should be very good there, this time of year."
"By yourself?" she scrutinized.
"Sure, why not?"
Hermione stifled a laugh. He sure didn't come to shop, he was probably in Diagon Alley on the prowl.
"Well, it's getting late. I should go, but thanks for the invitation – and the help."
"You're not leaving?"
"Sorry, but I have to," she said and began to rise. This time he didn't grab for the other bag.
"I'll walk you out." Draco reluctantly rose and paid for his and Hermione's drink.
"Hey, you didn't have to do that."
"It's no problem... and I owe you one Granger."
Hermione carefully negotiated her way through the roomful of punters with both bags of books. With one foot outside the magical passageway and the other in Diagon Alley came the obligatory pause and goodnight.
"Thanks again," she was compelled to add.
"No problem. It was good to see you again."
"And you."
"Maybe another time?" he asked, tepidly.
Hermione nodded sideways. "Yeah, maybe."
Draco nodded and looked up to notice a decorative bough of Mistletoe hanging above the passageway.
"That's convenient," Draco said looking up at the bough with a impish grin.
"You're not serious."
"Give me a break Granger. It's Christmas. Can you manage one goodnight kiss."
She shook her head and laughed.
"One bough of Mistletoe is hardly enough to offset the history between us?"
"It's time to put the past behind us. Just one kiss goodnight..."
She stood passively, offering no further argument. Draco immediately bent forward and kissed her, lightly at first, but when he moved closer Hermione broke it off."
"Goodnight Draco," she said and spun around on one heel.
"Hermione – wait."
She paused and looked back.
"Look, I've got nowhere to go. And from the sound of things, neither do you. If we've both got to be miserable over the Holidays, at least we could be miserable together."
Suddenly it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"Be miserable together – yeah that sounds fetching."
"Give it a chance – what do you say? Can you try?"
She stopped and then dropped her head. Lifting it when she was ready to talk.
"Look Draco, I really enjoyed running into you tonight. After all this time – I just don't know how to get my head around all this."
"Don't think about it then. What's there to think about?"
"Tons. Goodnight Draco. It was good to see you."
With that, Hermione turned back toward the alley, once and for all. Draco watched, as the bushy headed witch ambled off to disappear behind a veil of fog and sleet.
‡‡‡‡‡
Reminiscing on his way out of the Alley, Draco wasn't even a little surprised that Granger had declined his offer. Still, he thought, it was important that he made it. Perhaps he would run into her again. Perhaps one day her hard heart would soften a little. But their difficulties ran back a long way, and the bad feelings surrounding his part in the war were still all too fresh in the minds of the wizarding community. But still, it would have been nice to have had some company over the Holidays.
All the revelry in the alley left him with a hollow feeling now. Finding a dark place between buildings, he quickly ducked inside and then concentrated on the cottage by the lake. Hurtling through the long tube of apparition, he re-assembled into corporeal form in front of the lakeside hideaway.
All the light were out, and the grey stone cottage was almost obscured from view behind a thick layer of fog. The evening's sleet had not yet reached the grounds; perhaps it had been held back by the overly warm waters of the lake. Suddenly feeling a chill from the damp air, he walked quickly to the cottage, crunching along the gravel path to the front door.
Once inside, he muttered a charm and a half a dozen candles came to life. He laughed as someone, probably a house-elf from the mansion, had decorated the place for Christmas. Quickly shedding the long great-coat, he examined the fireplace to find it full of tender and wood. One more charm with a wave of his hand and the fireplace ignited at once.
Grabbing a large wicker chair, complete with arms and padding, he turned it toward the fire and looked deeply into the flames for any clues to the future. But instead of clues to the future, he was struck by an uncomfortable memory. In a moment of carelessness, when he'd run into Blaise and Theodore Nott a few nights ago, he had mentioned something about spending the Holidays here. The last thing he needed to destroy this tranquil evening was two beer-buddies showing up at his door with suds and booze to brighten up his holiday.
Quickly, he put the thought out of his mind and went into the kitchen area for a glass of water. Surely, he couldn't be that unlucky twice in one night. He conjured a full a bowl of ice then fixed a large glass of ice water. The kitchen was just a few steps from the entryway, and somehow missing it when he entered was another bough of Mistletoe hanging just inside the door. The house-elves never missed a trick, and he laughed at the memory of Granger in Diagon Alley. He could still taste her shy response on his lips. He laughed at how she jumped back when he pressed her a little further.
He took the ice water to the wooden terrace behind the cottage, facing the lake. The soft slapping sound of water breaking along the shore was the only evidence of the lake as it was obscured now from view behind a curtain of fresh falling snow.
For a moment, he thought he heard the familiar pneumatic pop of apparition, but quickly dismissed the thought as an overactive imagination. But then a few moments later he could almost make out the crunching of gravel from around the front of the cottage. He still didn't believe it till a loud rap on the door made him jump.
Damn, it must be Blaise or Nott.
His first thought was sneaking back inside to fetch the great-coat and then disappearing from the wooden terrace. But they would have surely spotted the lights. And right here at Christmas time, that kind of trick would be especially rude. No, it would be best to let bastards in, so they could ruin his lovely holiday.
Reluctantly, Draco trudged over to the front door, took a deep breath, and yanked it open. He had 'You Fuckers' forming on his lips when he discovered it wasn't Blaise or Nott standing at his door.
"Hope I'm still invited," came a timid voice.
There standing at his door was Granger, carrying a small valise and a bottle of wine. Galleon sized snowflakes were quickly covering the top of her bushy head and shoulders.
It took Malfoy more than a few moments to get over the shock and find proper words.
"Well, hell – run me off or invite me in; it's freezing out here."
"Gra... Granger?"
"Yes Draco."
Finally, he managed to get a grip on his senses.
"I was just a little surprised."
"I can tell."
"Uh, sorry – come in."
"Thanks."
"How did you find the place?"
"Like I said. I work for the Ministry and the Ministry knows all. I rang the night operator for the location of your lakeside cottage."
"Well, I'm happy you decided to come. What changed your mind?"
Hermione stood there, balking on the answer.
"Never mind – shouldn't have asked. Let me get your coat."
Draco ran off with her coat, valise, and the wine only to find her glued to the same spot when he returned.
"You deserve a second chance." She said, and looked up at the Mistletoe.
"Uh? Oh yeah, that first kiss was pretty lame."
Draco gradually narrowed the distance between them.
The ensuing kiss was much better than the first.
"I'm glad you came."
"So am I."
Epilogue
Christmas day came around all to quick with Hermione spending most of it with Ginny, Harry, and little Teddy. Teddy appeared delighted with the two moving picture books Hermione had picked out for him. Harry and Ginny were happy with theirs as well, but not exactly overwhelmed.
All day Harry and Ginny looked at Hermione and then at themselves for any clue as to Hermione's mood, which seemed unexpectedly good. Hermione had been pretty glum through the holidays, and neither could explain the transformation taking place in front of their very eyes. Her mouth remained zipped when Ginny demanded to know why she was so vivacious on this special day.
It didn't really matter and no one needed to know – at least not yet. And all she ever explained to Draco was the words in the form of a tune that never left her head the moment she walked out of Diagon Alley.
They rarely left each others arms after the first kiss, and they had made a date for the next weekend.
Christmas had turned out better than she had expected. To say it hadn't been bad would be quite an understatement.
A/N: Just read where Rowling has written a story on Pottermore to convince us what a bad guy Draco really is. I'm sorry, but I don't think us Dramione fans will buy into that. :)