Thank you all so much for more lovely reviews, favs and follows. So pleased you are enjoying it.
I always feel a tad guilty when I work so closely with film/book, feels a bit cheeky to call it fanfic but hopefully I can get away with it...
As always apologies for any errors which might rear their ugly heads...
With that enjoy the extra guest at Hogwarts for Christmas Eve!
Hermione had toyed with the idea of having the Christmas Eve supper in the kitchen, but knowing how the house elves would react to students in the kitchen, let alone Lucius Malfoy as a guest she decided against it.
Even though there were now nine of them, the Great Hall was far too big, well without the aid of magic it was far too big. She was once again put in mind of her third year and how Professor Dumbledore had moved the long house tables, to accommodate the small group that had remained back then. With a few enchantments and charms of her own, she too had transformed the vast space which usually accommodated all of the Hogwarts students and staff into an intimate and festive nook. Hermione smiled to herself, she might have had more trouble explaining this to the headmistress, than the presence of a former Death Eater.
The long, heavy oak, trestle table the teachers usually occupied, had been reduced in size and was now a squat rectangular shape which comfortably sat nine people, with of course room for all of the festive fayre. There were always twelve enormous beautifully decorated trees in the Great Hall, five on each side and one at either end, to create a cosier atmosphere and make the hall seem much smaller, Hermione had exchanged the four house tables for more trees, all glistening with respectively coloured baubles and lights, giving the illusion of a forest of decorated trees that lead to the main table. The giant fireplace which dominated one side of the room burnt in their midst, giving a warm homely glow. With the aid of a little more magic Hermione hung eight Christmas stockings along the mantle, two with the Ravenclaw crest, four Hufflepuffs and two Slytherin, and partridge in a pear tree she sung aloud, another larger smile curving her lips, as she added a simple gift tag to the last one.
The stockings didn't have anything fancy or expensive in, just traditional items from the days of Christmas past, it was something her mother had done every year, Hermione's smile became reflective and just a little sad. She straightened the stockings with a wave of her wand, each one containing a handful of nuts, a tangerine, a peppermint toad, a sickle and a small gift indicative to each recipient. Fortunately Hermione knew a little something about everyone who was at Hogwarts this Christmas, all except one of course, that particular stocking she'd had to come back to, inspiration coming to her at the 11th hour as it were, just before the doors to the Great Hall swung open. The excited chatter and exchanges at Hermione's transformation fell to a deathly hush when Scorpius arrived with his grandfather, luckily everyone's enthusiasm was contagious, and they soon forgot whose presence they were in and got on with eating, drinking copious amounts of pumpkin juice and enjoying their Christmas Eve together.
"You have done an excellent job, Professor."
Hermione had intended to sit the otheradult at the opposite end of the table to herself, Lucius Malfoy it appeared had other ideas, quite possibly because she was the only other adult there and at least they might have something to talk about, but she wasn't entirely sure that was the case.
His warm breath fanned her cheek as he leaned in to speak over the excited chatter, perhaps just a little closer than was necessary.
"Thank you."
She turned her head ever to slightly towards him, that spicy intoxicating scent of his rising above even the smell of hundreds of pine needles, to fill her senses. As always with Lucius Malfoy, he was far too close for comfort.
His hand came to unexpectedly cover hers as it rested on the table, this time there was no soft kid leather between his hand and her skin. Perhaps even more surprisingly Hermione didn't flinch, nor did she pull away, she had the oddest sensation, feeling as if a gentle current of electricity were moving through her.
"No thank you." He insisted softly, his fingers emphasising the point, as they gently squeezed hers.
"For being so kind and understanding to my grandson and for allowing me to stay here with him."
He glanced at the table of happy, excited pupils, a smile curving his mouth, but sadness reflecting in his eyes.
"With you all, I …"
"Professor Granger?"
Hermione felt his hand withdraw, she was again filled with that odd cold bereft feeling as she looked up to meet the enquiring tone of Rupert Harewood, a round faced, first year Ravenclaw, who reminded her of Vincent Crabbe, in more ways than one.
"Those stockings hanging along the fireplace? He went on curiously, as the others at the table followed his line of sight.
Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Yes" She said, knowing full well what was coming next.
She really felt the sorting hat had put this boy in the wrong house, but apparently there had been a couple of Harewood's in Ravenclaw, just not during her time.
"Are they for decoration or for us?"
Hermione tried to maintain a more serious face, but suddenly found herself looking at seven expectant, eager faces and could hold out no longer.
"They are for you all of course. One each, your house crests are on the front, your names on the pegs at the top."
The first year Ravenclaw and youngest member of the group was at the fireplace before Hermione could utter another word.
"There are two Slytherin ones." He observed, his cherubic face frowning.
"There are." Hermione responded casting a quick glance in Lucius Malfoy's direction before returning her attention to the Harewood boy.
"That's because Rupert there are two Slytherin's here. Like your father and your older brother, Scorpius' grandfather was also a Slytherin."
The explanation that there was even a stocking for the School governor was accepted quickly and without further question, the seven students all excitedly opening theirs. Squealing with delight at the simple contents and token gifts they had all received. Despite the feast they had just consumed the edible things all vanished, the scent of tangerines filling the air. The peppermint toads proved extremely popular and caused much hilarity after consumption as they bounced and wriggled around in full tummies.
Amidst the noisy excitement, Hermione used a little wandless magic to lift and pass the last remaining stocking in Lucius Malfoy's direction. He took the black sock with the Slytherin serpent crest embossed on the front, his name elegantly written on a tiny tag, and peered inside. Another of those genuine smiles curving, what once Hermione had thought of as a very cruel mouth. He too retrieved a small handful of cob nuts, a shiny dimpled tangerine, a silver sickle and a token gift. Right at the very bottom of his stocking was a small lavender blue bottle, no more than about 3inches tall, it had a cork firmly wedged in the top and a deep lilac seal securing it. A hand-written label, with the smallest of black printing read Occamy Egg Yolk Shampoo, underneath in even smaller print was signed the name Gilderoy Lockhart.
The Dark Wizard had no idea what to say, he really was genuinely touched, not an emotion he was overly familiar with, people generally didn't do nice things for a former follower of the Dark Lord.
He'd watched in amusement as the youngsters had dived into their stockings, devouring nuts, fruit and sweets as they went along. Whooping with utter delight at gifts which included a miniature quill, a carved wooden animal, a tiny set of mittens which stretched to full size and other such delights, Scorpius for his part loved the miniature photo frame, with the tiny heart shaped mount, he clutched it in his hand, smiling broadly, Lucius not needing even two guesses as to who's image would be placed in there.
Perhaps the exceptionally bright Miss Granger was unaware of what she had actually given him, he looked at the tiny bottle clasped in his own hand and back at her. A wry smile lifted that pretty pink mouth of hers, for the briefest of moments, but just a moment too long his grey eyes lingered on it, before meeting her brown eyes. Oh, she knew exactly what she had given him, but it had nothing to do with the value of the gift, but everything to do with the thought behind it and the fact that there was a stocking there for him at all, the stocking and the small gift spoke volumes.
"I have nothing for you." He whispered, crossing the expanse of stone floor which separated them, in a couple of meaningful strides.
"Not a tangerine or even a sickle." He slid his hand into an empty pocket.
"Nothing" He said somewhat shamefaced, shrugging his broad shoulders.
Hermione didn't want her words to sound corny or flowery, but she had a feeling they were going to do precisely that.
"You don't give presents to receive them Mister Malfoy, it would just have been rude of me not to include you."
Appearing rude, wasn't really the reason why she had included Scorpius' grandfather. Her parents had always reminded Hermione that Christmas was a time for, goodwill to all men. Hermione felt maybe now was a good time to extend a little of that goodwill to Lucius Malfoy, feeling strangely as if they would approve of her generosity of spirit. The restrained joy on his face, coupled with a shock he tried desperately to conceal made that benevolence well worthwhile, and Hermione silently thanked her much missed parents. She drew her attention back from Christmas passed to quite literally Christmas present….
"Anyway you have given me something." She acknowledged quietly.
Lucius Malfoy was clearly taken aback, his dark blonde brows furrowing questioningly.
"I have?" He asked, his tone steeped in curiosity.
"A happy Christmas for Scorpius." Her words sounded more clichéd that she had imagined, and she went on quickly.
"As you are aware, he was most forlorn before you arrived, and I know how hard it is, that first Christmas." She saw a flicker of guilt in his face, her own harsh words to him earlier no doubt, but she would still not apologise for them.
"Professor Granger?"
And again, she was stopped mid flow, Lucius Malfoy also seeing the irony, as they both turned in the direction of the question. This time posed by Regina Lambert, the pretty Hufflepuff who'd been with Scorpius earlier.
"Yes Miss Lambert."
"What did you used to do on Christmas Eve when you were our age?" She asked her big green eyes glowing with interest.
That sad reflective little smile was back on Hermione's face, as she was again transported back to Christmases of yesterday, she caught Lucius Malfoy watching her intently, those eyes of his reflecting what almost looked like concern, she noticed he took a small step forward, bringing him closer to her. His presence had always been more than a little unsettling, but this was something very different. Hermione drew her thoughts back to Regina Lambert's question.
There were certain traditions always upheld in the Granger household, but none more so than on Christmas Eve, from the food and the carols, to the stockings and the stories. Oh those wonderful stories her father used to tell.
"My father used to tell stories." She told them, her voice wistful and a little far away.
She smiled at the assembled students, their expressions one of collective expectation. Their attention wavering between herself and the Dark Wizard. An idea struck Hermione, although she imagined the Dark Wizard's stories might be more suitable for Halloween, but surely, he must have something he could, or would recount for them.
"Perhaps Mister Malfoy has a story or two that he might like to share?"
The older man had been so focused on Hermione, wondering how she would react to their question, he hadn't noticed the attention shift to him. Realising what she had said, Lucius Malfoy responded.
"I don't really tell stories" He began rather stiffly; a little buzz of disappointment greeted his words.
"And I think mine might be a little dark for a Christmas Eve." He admitted, trying to placate them, but to his horror and even amusement every set of eyes now fixed on him, lit up.
"Hmm".
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pacing in front of the crackling fire. Turning back to the small group, all of whom had now settled themselves comfortably back in a chair and were waiting eagerly, their Professor included.
"Well I suppose, if you consider it a story, I could always tell you about the first time I encountered the famous Harry Potter."
There was an excited little murmur of anticipation and Lucius could swear each set of eyes grew larger. He also noticed a distinct hue of colour flush their professors' cheeks.
Lucius remained standing, his back to the great fireplace, it popped and spat behind him, giving him the perfect backdrop. The former Death Eater might not tell stories, but he impressively looked the part, dressed from head to toe in black, his long blonde hair highlighted by the flames at his rear, cascading about his shoulders. His silver and ebony cane clutched between his large hands, the emerald eyes of the serpent head glinting wickedly in the firelight. He certainly had a flair for the dramatic, the children were enthralled and despite the fact she had actually been there, so was Hermione Granger.
"I'm sure you are aware of this already, but let me begin by saying, things were very different before the Second Wizarding War, much emphasis was put on status and blood by many, myself and my family included back then."
The last thing he wanted to do was overstep any boundaries or to turn the tale into a horror story, nor did he want it to sound like a justification of his past deeds, but by saying that, despite it being a Christmas Eve story, Lucius found himself wanting to ensure it was factually correct, even if that meant painting him and Draco a poor light. He glanced briefly in the Professor's direction, she gave him a simple nod of approval.
"Sufficed to say Draco and myself were not particularly nice to those we considered beneath us, or of lesser blood."
This time his glance fell upon his grandson, thankfully Scorpius gave him an encouraging smile.
"I think perhaps you could safely call us Wizarding snobs of the highest order."
He actually relished the giggles which met his comments, finding himself rather enjoying story telling.
"At the time, The Ministry of Magic was conducting raids on many wizarding homes, looking for items of dark magic. Scorpius' father and I had been to a shop in Knockturn Alley, a rather insalubrious establishment called Borgin and Burke's, where I had sold a few questionable items … just in case."
He padded out his well-chosen words nicely with details, his haughty aristocratic tone lending itself perfectly to the account, but he didn't elaborate on the items, narrowing his eyes for effect at his captivated audience. They all seemed to lean in closer as he continued.
"We then moved on to Flourish and Blotts to purchase the books required for Draco's second term here at Hogwarts."
His eyes watched his audience as keenly as they watched him. Noticing the recognition in their faces as he mentioned the refurbished, but equally dusty old bookshop in Diagon Alley, where every Hogwarts pupil purchased their school books.
"Your father, Scorpius, was being particularly nasty to a group of his fellow Hogwarts students, who were also in the shop, taunting a Mister Harry Potter, about having a girlfriend as I recall."
He paced a little more, his audience were completely entranced. Scorpius continued to smile encouragingly.
"As I recall, the young lady in question was his friend Ronald Weasley's sister Ginevra, he was there too of course, along with some of his brothers. There was also another close friend with them, one Miss Hermione Granger."
This time there was a very audible gasp from Lucius Malfoy's attentive listeners, all of whom seemed to cast their eyes in Hermione's direction, she got the distinct impression she was about to pay dearly for suggesting Lucius Malfoy turn story teller.
The devilish twinkle that glistened in those piercing eyes of his, suited him so much better than the harsh unfeeling glint she had once seen, and the little smile which curved his mouth, became him so much more than the sneer he used to perpetually wear. Then he looked like he had a very unpleasant smell under his nose, now he looked as if he were actually enjoying himself.
The days when Lord Voldemort had been referred to "as he who must not be named" had long since passed; the second Wizarding War was taught in the school just like any other historical subject in History of Magic classes, Hermione's own subject of Muggle Studies also encompassed how Muggles and their offspring, or half-bloods had been treated at the time. But the Dark Wizard was still mindful, respectful even, how he related the story, again at his own expense.
"I haughtily introduced myself, to the young Mister Potter, he was about the same age as you."
He singled out a second year Hufflepuff seated next to Scorpius, with his cane. The boy shifted a little nervously, but not once did his attention wane, nodding eagerly when Lucius Malfoy said…
"Twelve?"
Hermione swore she saw him wink at the young boy, but she must have been mistaken.
"Like everyone else, who hadn't met Harry Potter before, curiosity got the better of me, his scar was legendary."
He had edged closer to the Hufflepuff whom he had picked on, the serpent head of his cane brushing the young boy's forehead, just as it had done Harry's all those years before. The boy's eyes widened like a terrified house elf, none the less enjoying the attention and no doubt substituting for the famous Harry Potter. The Dark Wizard took a step backward, the fire roaring as if on cue behind him.
"And in not a very nice tone, I accused him of being either very brave or very foolish…" He moved back from the exci
"As of course was the wizard who gave it to him, which I less than tactfully said to Mister Potter. Lord Voldemort was after all responsible for the death of the young man's parents, something he was quick, and not afraid to point out."
Lucius Malfoy remembered the young Harry Potter's green eyes blazing at him from behind his spectacles, as he told him without fear, that the man was nothing more than a murderer.
"Back then, as I am sure you know, the name of The Dark Lord was not spoken aloud, so to hear the young Mister Potter utter it without regard or fear, well I told him he must be very brave to mention his name, or very foolish."
Hermione squirmed in her seat, she remembered Lucius Malfoy's first encounter with Harry as if it were yesterday, but she remembered what happened next as if had only happened minutes before. She had to admit she found it astonishing that Lucius Malfoy could recall the interaction with such inordinate clarity, verbatim even.
"At which point I was firmly taken to task, and somewhat put in my place, by your Professor here. Clutching a rather large book, sporting her Gryffindor cloak, and a very defiant look"
Just as they had done that day, his penetrating grey eyes fixed on Hermione, she felt heat suffuse her face and her body, but honestly had to question whether it had anything to do with his surprisingly vivid recollection of over twenty years ago. He gave her the exact same questioning look.
"Do you recall your wor…"
"Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself" She supplied without a second thought, before he'd even completed his question.
"I am afraid, I was equally as arrogant and disdainful, if not more so to your Professor than I had been to Mister Potter."
There was another collective little gasp.
Lucius Malfoy raised his head slightly, again looking snootily down his aquiline nose at the seated young woman.
"And you must be Miss Granger"
His voice was every bit as clipped and derisive as it had been that day, the look on his face just as if he had that very bad smell under his nose. But there was a softness to his mouth, and a sparkle in those once cold hard eyes.
"Oh yes Draco's told me all about you." He stopped.
Whilst there was still defiance in the young woman's face, her nose did not wrinkle in anger, nor did she glare at him with abhorrence, there was a soft warmth in her big brown eyes which told him it was okay to go on, to finish the sentence just as he had done that day.
"And your parents… Muggles, aren't they?"
Another shared gasp went around the group, it was much louder this time. The sound breaking the odd recollective connection which seem to sizzle in the air and hold the Dark Wizard and the Hogwarts Professor together in a moment, frozen in time.
The group's attention had moved back to their professor, presuming or perhaps hoping that she had come back with some suitable retort or maybe even something more. Hermione oddly felt the reality was going to be a bit of an anti-climax, Lucius Malfoy's theatricality and obvious penchant for recounting a story, came to her rescue. He moved like a sleek black cat, threateningly taking them all in.
"Just as it is now, magic was not allowed to be practised outside of the school by those under the age of 17." His dark blonde brows knitted together menacingly as he reiterated the Hogwarts rule.
"But I have to confess, from the angry look on Miss Granger's face, and her glistening eyes, I did not doubt for one moment, that neither this rule nor her tender age, would preclude her from hexing me. I quickly turned my condescending distaste to Mister Potter's other friends."
Remembering the interaction which followed between Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley just as well as she had the rest of the meeting in the old bookshop, not to mention the string of events which had ensued, Hermione couldn't help but wonder how much more of the story the Dark Wizard would actually retell. As had become somewhat of a trend for the evening, Hermione found her ponderings interrupted by yet another eager pupil.
"Were you and Scorpius' father friends when you were here at Hogwarts Professor?"
The only other girl in the group asked, a freckle faced Hufflepuff by the name of Lyra Rowles asked. To the barely concealed amusement of his Grandfather and his Professor, it was a rather unceremonious snort from Scorpius which in a roundabout way answered the innocent, albeit rather naïve question.
"Don't be daft Lars," By his laughter, and easy use of a nickname, it was clear the youngest Malfoy and the redheaded Hufflepuff were good friends.
"All those years ago, purebloods and Muggle-borns weren't friends."
The young blonde caught his Grandfather's narrowed eyes, his gaze shifting sheepishly to his teacher, realising what he had said, but uncertain how to make it better, without making it ten times worse first.
"Sorry Grandfather, Professor Granger, I just meant…"
Seeing the not entirely angry look on Lucius Malfoy's face, Hermione decided it was perhaps her turn to interject, she shook her head, but gave Scorpius a warm smile.
"Whilst I must take exception to your historical dating of the event Scorpius. I cannot argue with the actual facts."
She adopted her best teaching tones.
"As I am sure your grandfather can no doubt attest to. Your father and I were definitely not friends, I think we only ever spoke to trade insults, or for Draco to say…Wait until my father hears about this."
The younger Malfoy glanced back at his grandfather, Lucius for his part looked a little flushed, quite the thing on his usually pallid skin.
After the retelling of the Flourish and Blotts incident, it was nice for Hermione to be able to turn the tables on her one-time nemesis.
"Mister Malfoy here, was also a school governor… way back then."
This time she gave Scorpius and equally raised eyebrow of her own, emphasising his previous "historical dating".
"If your father got himself into any mischief that he couldn't handle, or some misdeed backfired on him, we were always threatened with the wrath of the powerful and formidable Lucius Malfoy."
Lucius inclined his blonde head arrogantly in acknowledgement of Hermione's comment, but she was close enough to see that slightly amused curling of his lip and the now rather familiar twinkle in his eye. Lucius Malfoy had a very obvious tell, he would make a lousy poker player, she thought to herself. Playing poker with the Dark Wizard now there was a thought, a thought she quickly brushed aside as it suddenly took a very different turn, to a very different type of poker…
His voice had adopted an even more aristocratic timbre, and he seemed to be looking even further down his nose at the younger woman, but his tell was still very much in evidence, to Hermione at least. The youngsters were riveted by the exchange, their eyes wider than ever.
"I am not sure even the powerful and formidable Lucius Malfoy would have been foolish enough to have wreaked his wrath on the brightest witch of her age, let alone one who wielded such an accurate right hook."
It took a few seconds for his words to register, when they did Hermione wasn't sure what surprised her more. The uncharacteristic Muggle boxing term used by the Dark Wizard, or the fact that Draco Malfoy had told his father about that particular incident at all. Telling your father you had been punched in the face by a girl was bad enough, that it was a Gryffindor and it was that Mudblood Hermione Granger, that must have been some revelation.