Hermione was wrapping gifts in her living room when her fireplace suddenly blazed into green flames. There were only four people who had unrestricted access to the Floo: Harry, Ginny, Ron, and the most recent addition, Draco, and it was the latter who stepped into her room.

"Don't look! Don't look!" she shrieked playfully, using her wand to send half-wrapped presents out of the room. "I'm wrapping your gift!"

She was interrupted by his sudden presence next to her, his hands on her face, his lips attacking her mouth. She was thrown backward by the sheer force of him, but she heard him mutter a wandless spell to summon a pillow underneath her. She collapsed onto the pillow and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hips settling in between her legs and thrusting against her.

Hermione and Draco had been sleeping together for weeks now, and he'd never attacked her like this before. Hermione thought she might catch fire from the heat of the moment.

"Draco," she whispered against his face, "is everything all right?"

Draco just murmured something and kept going, his hands reaching down to her pants and fumbling with the button for a moment before lifting her hips off the ground and sliding her jeans and panties off her legs. She felt his lips against her ankle and a hand between her legs, alternating between massaging her clit and slipping inside her to graze the sensitive spot inside of her. Hermione's hips were bucking against his hand of their own accord.

In a flash, Draco had his own pants off and had flipped her over so she was on all fours, her hands and knees crinkling the remnants of Christmas paper still scattering around her. Some vague voice inside her head panicked at the possibility of tearing her brand new wrapping paper, but the feel of Draco's erection against her entrance silenced the voice for good. He leaned over her, kissing her neck and massaging her breast as he thrust inside of her. She could hear his feral grunt and heavy panting, sending shivers of pleasure through her. She still sometimes couldn't believe that she could have this effect on Draco Malfoy.

"You feel so good," he whispered hoarsely.

The sound of his voice brought her close to the edge. His cock felt amazing inside of her. At this angle, he was rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust. Her breath was coming out in whimpers.

"Come for me," he said in a gravelly voice. "I can't hold off much longer."

His words were strangled in his throat. The man's lust was seemingly insatiable. She could feel her orgasm building in her abdomen, his hands running up and down her body stoking the fire inside her, his breath hissing through his teeth. Draco could hold off no longer and she felt his cock stiffen inside her as he came, still thrusting as he clung to her, trying to send her over the edge. The feel of his engorged erection was enough to finish her off. She let out a long whimper and felt her entire body shiver.

They were frozen in that position for a moment, breath heaving, until he finally slipped out of her and cast a Scourgify to clean up. Draco sprawled on her couch.

"All right, guess I'll be going then," he said, reaching for his clothes as if to leave.

Hermione slapped him on the arm for his playful grin, a calm, easy expression that she saw only rarely. He was usually so composed, even distant. She loved seeing this side of him. Relaxed and content.

"What brought that on?" Hermione asked, snuggling next to him on the couch.

"Just . . ." said Draco. "Just needed you."

Hermione gazed at him. She liked that answer, and though she had a feeling that there was a bit more to it than that, she knew it was pointless to press him. She saw Draco glance around at the torn wrapping paper and presents.

"Is that one mine, then?" he asked, gesturing to a miniature Quidditch set.

"Yes, for ages 10-13," Hermione read off the box. "Thought it was appropriate."

"That one then?" asked Draco, as he gestured to a box with 'Madame Malkin's' emblazoned on the outside.

"Damn," swore Hermione, scrambling to hide the box.

Draco chuckled. Hermione got all the gifts back to her bedroom, slipped her panties back on, and cuddled next to Draco on the couch.

"Ron's getting the kids tomorrow," said Hermione. "Off the Hogwarts Express."

Draco looked at her and wrapped an arm around her lightly. She sucked in a breath.

"I've never not been there," said Hermione.

"Still haven't told them?" asked Draco.

Hermione shook her head.

"I know, I know, we should have. I just didn't want to let them know by owl! It would ruin their whole term. I'm meeting them at the Burrow to talk," she said. "Harry and Ginny will be there. You know, to make sure things stay civil."

The feel of his arm on her bare shoulder comforted her. She wished he could be there with her. His presence was solid and comforting. He'd been through this before. But she knew now was not the right time to let the Malfoy out of the bag, so to speak. Hermione felt Draco tense slightly beside her, as though something painful had just crossed his mind. She looked at his face; he looked strained, yet resolved. She could tell he was about to say something, and although she wanted to cajole him into speaking, she knew by now that Draco was not a man that could be pushed into anything for which he was not ready. A few agonizing minutes passed in silence when he spoke.

"Scorpius didn't seem surprised when his mother and I told him we were divorcing," said Draco cautiously. "He wasn't even twelve yet, but he handled it very maturely. We told him we both loved him very much, all the things you say to your child when you get a divorce. He didn't seem horribly broken up about it. I guess he gets that from his mother."

"You're not a very emotional person either, Draco," said Hermione, though for a moment she regretted it, afraid that her intrusion would prompt him to shut down.

Draco grimaced a bit.

"You're right," he acknowledged. "I think he just wanted to be reassured that nothing was his fault. That nothing would change too much. That he would still get to see us both-"

Draco cut off his sentence abruptly. He did not continue, nor did his facial expression indicate that he was going to. Hermione took his hand and gave it a brief squeeze. She rested her head against him and let him wrap his arms around her, feeling the weight of his chin on the top of her head.

The next day, Hermione Flooed to the Burrow to wait for Ron, Rose, and Hugo. Mrs. Weasley was there waiting for her, a comforting expression on her face. She patted Hermione's shoulder, and Hermione was relieved to know that she wasn't blamed or hated by the Weasley family. She waited with baited breath. She'd missed her children so much! After what seemed like an eternity, the flames sprung up in the fireplace and her babies stepped out.

"MUM!" cried the two children.

Hermione felt tears in her eyes as she embraced Rose and Hugo.

"Oh, that's it!" said Hermione. "I'm never letting you go back to Hogwarts. I've missed you both far too much!"

"Mum!" admonished the children, but they were grinning at her.

Hermione looked up and saw Ron, who gave her an uncomfortable smile. Hermione felt a nervous knot in her stomach. Harry and Ginny were looking at her encouragingly. It was time to have the conversation.

((()))

When Astoria Flooed into Draco's flat, he couldn't help but gaze at the flames, waiting for them to light up again as Scorpius followed her.

"Astoria," he greeted, still half hoping Scorpius would be along any moment.

"Draco," she said.

"Where's Scorpius?" he asked.

"At my mother's," said Astoria calmly, patting soot from her robes.

"Why didn't you bring him?" asked Draco.

"He's tired, Draco."

"Too tired to see his father?" he said.

Astoria rolled her eyes impatiently.

"That's enough," she said. "I'm here to talk about Christmas."

Draco braced himself. He had gone to King's Cross to pick up Scorpius from the Hogwarts Express, but he'd been five minutes late. Astoria had already left with him and taken him to Ireland. He felt an aching wrench in his gut at the thought that he might not see Scorpius until summer, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, other than pray for the mercy of Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy.

"There's a break in the festivities on Christmas Day from 3 o' clock until 5," said Astoria impassively. "You may see him then."

Draco was momentarily stunned.

"Great," he said.

"You may take him to tea," she said.

"Yes, perfect," said Draco.

"You'll have to come to him," said Astoria. "I'm not going any farther than Bellaghy, and I won't permit him to Side-Along with you."

"Anything," said Draco.

"There's only one place open for tea there on Christmas," she said. "It's a deli."

"Astoria, I'll go anywhere and eat anything," said Draco. "I'll eat cat litter."

Astoria didn't laugh, but she didn't sneer either.

"That'll be all, I suppose," she said.

"Thank you," said Draco.

Astoria disappeared into the flames as quickly as she'd come, and Draco was left with a small sense of peace. Certainly, two hours with his son for the duration of Christmas holiday wasn't much, but it was more than he'd anticipated. He hadn't had but a minute to think about it when the flames rose up again, and Draco felt sick to his stomach. It wasn't Astoria, however. It was Hermione Granger.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look like you're about to vomit."

Draco shook his head.

"I thought you were Astoria," he said.

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"She was just here," said Draco with a faint smile. "She said I could see Scorpius on Christmas Day for tea. From 3 until 5, so long as I go to Northern Ireland to meet him."

"Tea on Christmas? That's it? That's all you'll see him?" asked Hermione, astonished.

Draco shrugged.

"It's more than I'd expected from her," said Draco.

"Why would she do that?

"Because she can," he said venomously.

"Can't you petition the courts for more time?"

His expression hardened at he glared at her. His typical impassiveness eluded him. He could feel his anger and desperation bubbling to the surface and couldn't stop the words before they spilled out.

"What court in Great Britain will grant a Malfoy anything, much less more visitation with his Malfoy son?" he snarled. "They don't want a repeat of me and Lucius."

Draco knew he'd spoken too harshly, and she didn't deserve it. He took two measured breaths before dropping his gaze to his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Draco looked at her. Her eyes were a bit annoyed, but patient, as if he were a child who'd just thrown a tantrum.

"How was the talk with your kids?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Hermione sighed and collapsed onto his couch.

"Hugo cried. Rose didn't seem surprised. She's so smart. I think she knew it was coming. She told me she understood," she said with a sad smile.

"Well as can be expected, I reckon," said Draco.

"Then things turned awful. Hugo asked why and I was all prepared with a lesson on adult relationships and growing apart and not rushing into serious relationships when Ron . . . Ron!" Hermione said, getting agitated as she spoke. "He just up and says he's in a relationship with another woman!"

Draco cursed the buffoon to hell and back. What an idiot.

"I don't think Ron meant to do something so . . ."

"So incredibly stupid?"

"Yes!" said Hermione. "But he did, and Rose asked if they were going to have a new mother, and Hugo asked if that meant they wouldn't see me anymore. If it weren't for Harry, the whole thing would have imploded."

Draco scoffed at Potter's name but held his thoughts to himself.

"Harry talked Ron down and helped me keep the kids from total panic," said Hermione. "Ron was bright red and embarrassed-"

"Good."

"And everyone else was just kind of staring at us with open mouths. It was a fiasco," said Hermione.

Draco sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. It was a casual gesture but it still managed to surprise him how easily it came to him. He wasn't really the comforting sort. At least, not usually. With her, things always seemed to be just a bit different.

"I'm picking them up on Christmas morning," said Hermione, tears forming in her eyes. "I can't wait. I miss them so much. I hate that I won't be able to see them Christmas Eve, that I won't be able to see their faces when they come downstairs to see their presents, that someone else will be able to serve them their Christmas breakfast-"

Hermione paused and looked at him, and he could see the empathy in her face as one stray tear dropped down her cheek. Draco tightened his jaw. He felt every emotion she had just described, and it killed him, just as it was killing her.

"We're just a sad, pathetic lot, aren't we?" asked Hermione with a defeated smile, her voice a bit choked.

Draco chuckled and leaned in to place a kiss on her lips.

"I don't want you to be alone Christmas Eve," said Hermione softly. "Anymore than I want to be alone."

Draco didn't quite trust himself to speak yet. He was still reeling with emotions, from Astoria's visit to Hermione's tears and truthful words. He waited for her to continue.

"Stay with me Christmas Eve," she whispered. She wasn't begging. Not quite. He cupped her face with his hand.

"Anything for you," he said, and he leaned in and kissed her.