In the twenty-four hours that followed her second vision, Hermione had considered telling several different people about the images she was being shown in her mind. Her first choice of course was Malfoy himself, because what she'd been shown was about him to start with. On second thought, she considered telling Professor McGonagall, but then realised she'd probably have to explain everything about Anielle and so on, and she didn't want to get into trouble with Malfoy for it. She didn't like the idea of getting a telling-off from him because she'd told someone about their daughter. He was very protective of Anielle and would probably have the heart to hurt anyone who tried to harm her in anyway – hence the reason he was keeping her with him in Hogwarts and not at home with his parents. To some extent, Hermione shared that concern. She too didn't want anything to happen to Anielle, but she wasn't going to tell him that. She didn't want him thinking that she was along the same lines as him in anything.
Hermione woke up on Christmas Day to the sound of someone banging on her bedroom door.
"Granger! Oi, Granger! Get up!" Malfoy yelled at her through the door. Hermione groaned, feeling groggy. Her head was hurting and she wanted to sleep. But, of course, there would always be someone who wanted to disturb her. Right now, that someone was Draco Malfoy.
"Granger!" he called again "No one gets up this late at Christmas!" It was then that Hermione noticed why it was so light in her room. Pulling the duvet down from her neck and stretching out slightly, she leaned over to check the clock on her bedside table. He was right. It was ten past nine. She must have slept through her alarm, which she had set for half past six that morning. Typical, she thought. I slept through the alarm and now I have the Ferret yelling at me to get up. Sighing, she crawled out of bed and pulled on her dressing down.
With a flourish, she opened her bedroom door to find Malfoy standing there, fully dressed, and smirking for England. Hermione was not impressed, and she pushed past him to the bathroom they both shared without saying a word. Quickly, she cleaned her teeth and tugged her corkscrew curls into submission. On leaving the bathroom, she saw that Malfoy was still standing by her bedroom door, still smirking and looking very smug. Hermione glared at him, but he didn't move.
"Malfoy! If you don't mind, I'm going in there to change" she said, gesturing towards her open door to the bedroom.
"Maybe I want to stay," he answered, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands in his pockets. Urgh, you sick pig! Hermione thought as she walked towards him, turning swiftly on her heel and going into her bedroom. Her hand on the doorknob, she said, "Well, I don't want you to stay". With that, she shut the door in his face.
She leaned against the back of the door, feeling rather proud of herself. Oh, how she loved to harass Malfoy! Ron and Harry were definitely going to hear about this. And, speaking of Ron and Harry, Hermione crossed the room and rooted in her trunk for their Christmas presents. Setting them on the nearby chest of drawers, she went over to her bed and started getting changed. She pulled on a pale-blue sweater and bleached jeans, and her black jacket over the top. It was cold outside, and Hermione was prone to colds during the winter months, especially in December. Grabbing her bag from under her desk, she put the Christmas presents into it and went out of the door.
When she got downstairs, she saw that Malfoy was lighting the fire in front of the sofa. Anielle was next to him, strapped into her carry got and wide awake. He stood up, saw Hermione, and gave her a sarcastic smile and wave. Then, he bent down to pick Anielle up and walked past the armchair nearest to Hermione. He glared at her, his dark grey eyes cold and hard. This didn't bother Hermione, though – it was so likely of Malfoy she hardly considered it to be worth bothering about. Hermione walked past him and out of the door, down the two flights of steps and out along the Entrance Hall. Harry and Ron met her with grinning faces at the end of the corridor. Her headache cleared immediately, and she felt a lot happier.
"Hi, Hermione!" Ron said, "Happy Christmas!"
"Happy Christmas, Ron. What's up with you?" she asked, her brow furrowed. Ron wasn't usually this excited to see her, even when he'd had one too many Butterbeers from the elves in the kitchen. Hermione found herself laughing inside her head at the thought.
"I'm going out with Padma tonight" he said happily. "We're going to Hogsmeade. I heard there was a Christmas Filibuster's Firework display there, so I'm that's where I'm taking her. What about you?"
"Oh, I think I'll just be staying in tonight. I have a lot of work to do, so-" she started, but was cut off by Harry.
"Work! Hermione, it's Christmas! Loosen up, will you?" he exclaimed, sighing dramatically.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of them, then delved into her schoolbag and pulled out the two Christmas presents, one wrapped in gold and the other in bronze.
"Here you are then," she said. "These are for you. Happy Christmas!" she said, handing them over. They took them smiling from ear to ear, saying, "Thanks, Hermione". They pocketed their gifts, and nodded towards the main doors.
"Come on" Ron said. "Let's go for a walk, see Hagrid, I bet he'll be waiting for us". The three of them turned left and walked out of the big, solid oak main doors and into the grounds. Hermione was definitely going to have fun this Christmas, with those two around. She always did.
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Hermione got back to the Head's Common Room at around four o'clock, her face scarlet from the cold, her knuckles purple and her lips blue. Her hair was hanging in rat's tails on her shoulders, and her nose was dripping. She wiped it quickly with the sleeve of her jacket. Malfoy was sitting in the armchair again, Anielle on his lap. His whole expression had changed – the iciness that had been there earlier was gone, and was replaced with something more quiet, more mellow. Perhaps it had something to do with Anielle, perhaps not. He looked up when she came over and sat on the sofa, but she didn't turn to face him. Instead, she watched the fire burn in the grate. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Malfoy hitched Anielle up onto his hip and held her tight. She clung onto his clothes like she had done to Hermione, and she suddenly felt a huge rush of maternal feelings towards Anielle. She wanted to hold her; she didn't want Malfoy touching her.
Those feelings disappeared as soon as they came, leaving Hermione in a daze. She still hadn't got used to all her hormones racing around her system yet – she was still new to it all, and sometimes it felt good and other times bad. A few moments later, though, Malfoy spoke.
"You know, you might not be so bad after all, Granger". He looked at her. "There's something of a Slytherin about you". With that, their gazes met. Hermione was confused. Was this Malfoy actually being nice to her? She didn't know. He'd just complemented her. From her experience, a compliment from a Malfoy was something very, very rare. Hermione had the feeling he didn't do that often, and she was probably right. He dropped his gaze after a few moments, and spoke again.
"Well, I'm just going to put Anielle to bed…" he got up and started towards the stone steps ascending to his bedroom. Hermione nodded curtly, and turned to face the fire. The warmth of it made Hermione feel better, and she just sat back to watch the flames.
"Oh, and Granger?" he called out just as he reached the top step. She turned back to look.
"Tell Pansy that I absolutely have no interest in you whatsoever," he said. And then, he did something so out-of-the-ordinary and so unlike him that Hermione could barely believe it. He actually smiled at her. A proper smile. Not a sneering grin, or an icy smirk…but a proper, friendly smile.
And, as she sat there, that was what made Hermione wonder if Malfoy really did have a heart after all. By the end of the night, she knew that the best thing would be to tell him what she knew of the plan that ended up in the birth of her child.