Author's Note: Hello all! 250 reviews! You guys are awesome. I'm posting now, while the chapters are flowing. Things may slow a bit next month during NaNoWriMo (or maybe I'll be a writing machine). This chapter fought me tooth and nail, so I'm sending it off to you before I have to chase Draco and Hermione back into a sense of order with a mallet again. This is a nice long chapter—almost 5000 words!

Chapter 21: Suggestions

Hermione had a long day ahead of her, and the Ministry was not making it any easier. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She only had so much time to try and get this done before she started her apprenticeship today. "Check his file. I know Caffrey and Burke have been visiting him at the start of every month. He's been the model parolee. He hasn't done any magic, received any illicit communications, received any potions. He gets up and goes to work every day and comes home and leads a perfectly Muggle existence. Today is December first, isn't it? They are due for another visit today," she pointed out.

The Head Auror had an exhausted look on his face. He was a good man, did a good job, wasn't he? Why was he being punished by having to listen to Hermione Granger first thing on a Monday morning? He hadn't even had his coffee yet. "There aren't exactly rules to cover the sort of thing you're asking about. His punishment is no magic for a year."

She did her best not to growl. She'd been thinking about this all weekend, knowing that with the start of December, it wouldn't be long before Christmas was upon them. Whatever else happened, Draco didn't deserve to sit in a flat by himself on Christmas. "Look, I could have just decided to side-along-Apparate him for the holidays, or take the Knight Bus, or Floo him, and never contacted you and you'd never be the wiser, but I don't think that would be ethical, and I wouldn't want to risk getting Draco in trouble, so I am asking for your authorization to allow one of these methods of transit so that he's not spending Christmas alone. His father is in Azkaban, his mother has been exiled from the country. I'm willing to bring him with me for the holidays, but I can't imagine how I'd get where I'm going with Muggle transportation. I'm not sure a Muggle bus goes anywhere near Ottery St. Catchpole. This is supposed to be about rehabilitating him rather than punishing him. Well, it's working. Don't ruin it by denying him Christmas," she said crisply.

"Let me think it over," the Head Auror said.

"What's there to think over?" she asked.

"His family had a lot of privilege under the old order. It wouldn't do to let people think he's getting off lightly because of it."

"He's getting off anything but lightly. He's a beacon showing that things can get better. What more could you ask for than that? He's showing that people can change."

The Head Auror at this point was ready for her to just leave. Her points weren't bad ones, but plenty of people had thought that the Malfoy family had gotten off too easily. He considered which of the travel options would be most odious. "The Knight Bus. You travel with him on the Knight Bus, and you are responsible for making sure he does no magic, and has no access even to secondhand magic while in a magical household. No flying. No potions. Are we agreed?"

"Agreed. I'm not trying to help him evade the rules."

The Head Auror snorted. "That's why you came down to ask what sort of magical transportation it would be okay for him to use over the holidays."

She didn't respond to the comment. "I'll be going now. And I'll make sure to make a reservation with the Knight Bus. Happy Christmas."

He sagged with relief when she was gone from the room. He needed to make a note to his assistant that Hermione Granger was not to be let in on a Monday morning, and certainly not before he'd had his coffee.

Hermione arrived home Monday evening exhausted. Belby had set her to a written exam for most of the morning to test what she knew, and then observed her processes for slicing, mincing, grinding, julienning, grating, and stirring ingredients. Not ingredients particularly for anything, but just to check her hands on work. He told her mincing ingredients needed to be done smaller, that her grating wasn't quite even, and stirred more smoothly clockwise than counterclockwise.

She'd hardly finished with Belby and rushed off to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, not bothering to stop for lunch. She and George had a lot of work to do on the calling mirrors (including coming up with a better name for them if they ever managed to get them working). When she'd met with him on Friday to tell him about the apprenticeship he'd said he did want to formalize their business arrangement; if he'd been more himself, he would have suggested it sooner.

Finally, even though there was still so much work to do, Hermione had left the shop. She desperately wanted to get home and get something to eat. As soon as she was home, she set down her handbag and sat at the table. She ought to get up and cook something, but it seemed like too much effort. It had been a long day. She'd just give herself a few minutes and she'd get to it.

She'd only been sitting at the table a few minutes and was contemplating what would be the least amount of effort for dinner, with the maximum nutrition and energy provision, when there was a knock at her door. She looked at the door and pushed away from the table and walked to the door, opening it.

"Hermione," Draco said, smiling.

An echoing smile appeared on Hermione's lips, despite her weariness from the day. "Draco. Are you off tonight?"

"I am. I thought, after your first day doing double duty, you might like dinner waiting. It's ready across the hall. Are you hungry?" he asked, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

"Absolutely. How did you know when I'd be home?" she said, shutting the door behind her and stepping into the hallway.

"Educated guess," he said, offhandedly. He'd made food he hoped would keep fairly well and simply knocked on her door every ten minutes. Fortunately he'd only had to knock twice. He held the door open for her.

Pasta in a creamy sauce and slices of chicken awaited, and, a bottle of wine, and Draco's coffee mugs. He was almost getting used to drinking wine out of them. There was also a salad at each place setting. Utter manners, he pulled out a chair for her and then joined her at the table.

She was looking at the table in surprise. He'd done a lovely job. "I hadn't expected this."

"Good," he said, his lips curling in satisfaction. "The idea was for it to be a surprise. I was hoping it'd be a good one. I figured you'd had a long day and could use a good surprise."

"It is, most definitely," she agreed. "And it has been such a long day. I've actually got a bit of a surprise for you as well."

He rolled his eyes. "You can't ever let me just do something nice for you?"

She chuckled, helping herself to the salad. "Well, I don't know when you planned this dinner, but I was working on your surprise first thing this morning."

"Oh, go on, tell me what it is," he asked, curious, uncorking the bottle of wine.

She bit her lip and then took another bite of salad, wondering if he was going to find her surprise a blessing or a terror. Oh well. If he didn't want to go, he didn't have to. "I went to the Ministry this morning."

"Caffrey and Burke came by this afternoon. They were their usual cheery selves." It had been good to get this month's living stipend, but still. It always chafed to have them in his flat, looking for him to have done something wrong. Still, he was trying to start seeing it in another light and tried to be as infuriatingly pleasant and Muggle as possible during their visits. It was a new strategy—surly was much easier—but it seemed to annoy them, so it was rather worth the effort.

"I didn't speak to them. I spoke to the Head Auror. It is December now, and the holidays are coming up. I was thinking that I might go to the Burrow for Christmas." She saw an emotion flash on his face she couldn't put a name to and powered through. "I thought you might like to go with me. I mean, I'd like you to go. Anyway, I wanted to get permission from the Head Auror and see what the best way to go would be. I don't think he could track a side-along Apparation, but it wouldn't be worth risking you going to Azkaban, so I went and asked. You and I can travel together on the Knight Bus. I'm sure Molly would be happy to have you. I haven't asked Harry yet to see what his plans are, but I hope he's going as well."

Draco was torn between amusement, horror, and indecision. Hermione was rambling, a sure sign that she wasn't sure how he was going to take what she was about to say, but that she wanted to fill the silence with words and hope they were the right ones. "You think that I'd be welcome at…the Weasleys' for the holidays?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. He poured wine into his mug and took a long sip.

"I do. I really do."

He led the conversation on a different track to give him a little time to think. Which was the lesser of two evils? Christmas alone, or Christmas with…gingers. "I don't think the Ministry can track it if I side-along Apparate."

She looked at him sharply. "You haven't, have you? I've specifically not done that. I don't want to risk you going to Azkaban."

"Potter did. I don't think he really gave any thought to whether or not it was a problem, and by the time I thought of it—it was done," he shrugged. "This was Saturday, so if the Auror Department hasn't noticed, I don't think they will." The look in Hermione's eyes said that Harry was in for an earful in the near future, and that he wouldn't enjoy it.

She gave a resigned sigh. "And where did Harry take you, if you don't mind?"

"To meet my aunt. And Teddy Lupin." He saw a change pass over her face—she thought it was a good enough reason to bend the rules—and pressed on. "It was a good afternoon. I've never met my Aunt Andromeda before. She seemed pleasant."

"She is. She looks a lot like…but she's not like her at all," Hermione said. She pushed her lettuce around on her plate for a moment and made herself take another bite. "I haven't seen her in a while."

"I'm sure you'll get a chance," Draco said, solicitously pouring wine for her. "She's made it quite clear that she expects Potter and myself to come around again."

"Oh."

"Potter had been coming here to get you, but you were at Diagon Alley getting your potions supplies. We ran into each other in the hall. How did your first day with Belby go?"

Hermione felt a little better—Harry hadn't just dropped her again. "Well, Belby is as ridiculous as everyone warned. He's asked me to call him Dam which just sounds awkward. Today was spent testing and critiquing me, and then I went to see George." She proceeded to tell him about her day, starting with the Ministry and finishing at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Draco asked questions, and served pasta and chicken when their salad plates were clear. Since Draco's day had been rather less than thrilling (more poor attempts at writing, a trip to Sainsbury's after the Aurors had been and gone), he told her about meeting with Andromeda and Teddy on Saturday. It was strange to have family that didn't seem terrible and actually wanted to be in contact with him. It was nice, strange, but nice. He saw that Hermione had been smiling throughout, but the smile faded as she said, "Looks like everyone is having family coming out of the woodwork." The smile reached her mouth fine, but not her eyes.

Draco frowned. He hadn't intended to to upset her. "Damn," he muttered to himself behind his mug of wine, he thought too quiet for her to hear. He was wrong.

"Really, I'm glad. For you, and for Harry. I don't know if he told you or not, but he's reconciled with his cousin," she said, trying to change the subject. Surely she couldn't be that transparent? She hadn't let her voice crack during the word family. She didn't think her eyes were wet. She started turning the mug in a circle on the table with one hand, not picking it up to drink.

He reached across the table and took her hand, taking it carefully off the mug. "I can see through you better than the Bloody Baron. You want to know what your tell was? Your smile is pasted on. You're thinking about all the family that can't reach out to you now. There's no one left. The people you have left you can't bear to see," he said quietly. He rubbed his thumb over the space between her thumb and index finger.

"You could have just let it go, and let me sit here and pretend nothing was wrong, and enjoy the rest of dinner," she said. It came out part accusation, part exasperation, and a helping of raw emotion.

"I could have, if that's what you needed," he conceded. "But it's not. I think you need to talk about it."

"And you're suddenly an expert?"

"Hardly," he intoned drily. "But I am here, and that's something, isn't it?"

She took a shaky breath and a sip of wine. "It is something. It's a big something. But not tonight. I don't want to do this tonight. I'm having a good evening with you. You did something nice tonight. I don't want to spoil it for either of us by crying. You've been a good friend to me the last few months. I haven't been easy to be around most of the time."

Draco snorted, and the sound surprised her enough to put a pause in her rambling. "You're the easiest person to be around that I've met in a long time." Other than whatever minimal support he'd managed to be for Hermione in the last couple of months, had he ever managed to do anyone any good? Not that he was sure he'd done much; someone's who's drowning will latch on to even a rotten piece of wood if it's floating. But at least it was something he'd managed to do right.

"You're the first person to ever say that," she said quietly. She forced a grin onto her face to lure him into a change of topic. She had a long week ahead of her. She was enjoying herself here tonight. She just needed to lighten the mood.

"What?" he asked suspiciously, deciding to play along with her change of topic. If she didn't want to talk about her family, there was no sense in forcing the topic tonight. He'd tried to be helpful.

"I'm wondering how easy to get a long with I'll seem when I'm dragging you onto the Knight Bus. I've never been on it myself, but I've heard some…gut-wrenching stories." She smirked at him, an echo of his trademark.

He groaned, throwing himself wholeheartedly with her will to change topics. "I don't want to think about that right now. Right now, I want to think of pie."

"You made pie?"

"I bought pie," he corrected. "I made chicken. And sauce. Don't expect miracles."

They had their pie and kept up a light chatter, moving to the couch with their second mugs of wine when the pie was gone. Hermione's eyes were half closed, and she was curled up in one corner of the couch, with her feet tucked underneath her, leaving her shoes on the floor. Draco was seated on the other side, long legs out in front of him. He could see Hermione out of the corner of his eye. He eyed the nearly empty mug in front of him and swirled the remnants around.

"Do you really think the Weasleys would welcome me in for the holidays?" he asked, after they'd been quiet a while.

Hermione chuckled. "Molly will knit you a sweater." She wasn't absolutely certain—she hadn't seen Molly to know how she was getting on, but she rather imagined the Weasley matriarch would prefer to have more people to look after than fewer.

"She doesn't have any reason to."

"Sure she does. Without magic, you'll need a sweater to stay warm." Her own second mug of wine was nearly empty. "You do nice things for me, Draco." The implied question of Why? was left unsaid, but they both heard it in the silence.

He was silent so long, she wasn't sure he was going to answer. "I don't think I've ever done anything kind for anyone before. I rather like it. Maybe I should have tried it a long time ago. Besides, I'd probably have starved by now or still be trying to master instant noodles without you."

"I don't doubt you'd have managed somehow. Slytherins are known for their ability to adapt, you know." She didn't stop to wonder where she'd be right now if he hadn't been here to help keep her moving forward. Still crying more mornings than not? Refusing to go out into the wizarding world at all, and only leaving the flat at all out of dire necessity? Unable to get dressed because Ron's clothes were sitting in her closet?

"Slytherins can adapt. It doesn't mean I enjoy it."

"You're not supposed to enjoy living without magic. You're supposed to learn from it," she pointed out. "Are you learning?"

"I think I may be," he said.

She smiled, a genuine smile. "Good. Makes you much less of an insufferable prat than you used to be." She rested her head against the back of the couch and one of her hands slipped from her lap to rest beside her on the couch. Maybe it was the wine, but she found her mind wandering back to the topic they'd abandoned earlier, and her tongue looser now. "It was good to see Harry last week. But it's strange. It felt like Ron should have come with him. It's stupid, but I almost forget sometimes, as if he's going to pop up again soon. I guess that means I've gotten to the point where I'm not thinking about it all the time if I can forget. For my parents too. It was sitting in the back of my head, that I'd see them for the holidays. But I won't." She swallowed and realized her throat was dry and took the last sip of her wine. "Harry's reuniting with some of his family. You're getting to know a branch of your family tree that you'd been cut off from years ago. I have…whatever I can put together. Whoever wants to adopt me I suppose. If anyone does."

"The Weasleys will take you into their…home with open arms. And Potter'd never desert you. Well, I don't think he would again," he amended, though he wasn't sure he believed it. After all, hadn't Potter just done that for nearly 4 months? "And I don't doubt my aunt would make you welcome in her life, and Teddy's. And me. I don't know what good I can do, but I'm here."

She didn't look at him, but she was aware of him on the couch, not far from her. The smell of his body wash. The sound of him breathing. "You've already done me a world of good. Will you spend Christmas with me?"

Draco wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he picked up her hand that was on the couch, and kissed the back of it, a hint of aristocratic manners shining through. "I can't imagine Molly Weasley is going to welcome me in with open arms," he said, letting his hand fall back to the couch, but still holding hers. "But if she does, I'll be there. Knight Bus and all." He shuddered at the thought of the Knight Bus.

"Deal," she said. She'd have to write to Molly. She wasn't particularly looking forward to it, but after the last few months…she'd feel better facing her ghosts if she wasn't on her own.

Draco found himself wandering towards the library. There wasn't much else for him to do on a dreary Thursday. He didn't work for hours yet. He hadn't seen Hermione since Monday; he'd worked Tuesday and Wednesday night and had to leave for the restaurant before she would have gotten home.

His attempts at writing something brilliant that would earn him an easy pile of cash were going terribly. He rather thought "The Elf and the Sock" might be his worst story yet.

Admittedly, "The Hellish Hippogriff" was also pretty awful.

Maybe he wasn't cut out for writing. Really, who could take dragons and goblins and hippogriffs and make it dull? Evidently, he could.

His feet continued to steer him towards library, his hands stuffed in his pockets to keep them warm. Eventually he made it and went inside, glad to be out of the chill air. He wandered through the nonfiction section first, looking for something on writing. He knew the numbers on the spines meant…something. They had to. But he wasn't familiar with the system.

"Can I help you?" asked a friendly voice.

Draco looked up when he realized someone was speaking to him. It was Theresa, the attractive girl who'd taught the computer class he'd taken. "Hello."

"Can I help you find something?" she asked again.

He shrugged. It sounded stupid to say it aloud. "Just looking."

"It seemed like you were looking awfully hard. I could help," she offered, smiling.

Draco figured there wasn't anything to lose. "I'm looking at a…change of career. Do you have anything on writing?"

She led him to the correct section; it was much bigger than he was expecting, and a huge variety. She managed to get a little more information out of him; he was looking for a career change, just about anything was preferable to what he was doing now, and he imagined he had some good stories in him to tell. He was just less than thrilled with the results he was getting so far. She ended up putting half a dozen books in his arms.

"I wish you luck. Are you sure you want all of those this week?" she asked, looking a little uncertainly at the pile she'd given him.

"I have time on my hands. The…person I spend most of my time with just got a second job—working all morning, all afternoon, and I work all evening." He wasn't sure why he stumbled over how to explain Hermione. They were friends. But some how introducing her as "my friend" just didn't seem adequate.

Theresa nodded. "I see why you'd want a change in careers. We don't have anything open here at the moment, but I think we might, in the not too distant future. If you wanted to start volunteering here during the week—since you have time on your hands—it would give you a leg up on the competition."

"And give you some free labor in the meantime."

"That too," she admitted. They were walking towards the check out desk and something caught Draco's eye and he stopped at one of the shelves containing videos. He saw one with a woman with a green face and pointed hat on the front and read the title. It was the movie he and Hermione had discussed around Halloween. They'd never gotten around to seeing it. "That's one of my favorite classics," Theresa said.

"I've never seen it," Draco said, setting it back down.

"You can check it out. Or there's a VHS player in the conference room if you wanted to watch it here. The rooms not booked today," she told him.

Draco looked at her. She was attractive. He tried to imagine watching the film with her. If he watched it with Hermione, they'd laugh at the magical inaccuracies and he'd ask questions about the Muggle world. What in Merlin's name would he say to Theresa if he watched it here? Likely they wouldn't find the same parts funny. "I think I'll check it out to watch at home." He didn't have a video player, but Hermione did. He picked the video back up and looked at Theresa. "I may take you up on your offer to make me free labor though." He added the video to the stack of books he was carrying and went to check out. He'd need to hurry if he was going to get these things back to his flat and make it back to the restaurant.

As he was leaving, Theresa said, "Turn up any time during the week and ask for me. I'll set you to shelving books. And as for the writing…write about what you know. Writing about what people think other people will like is usually where they go wrong."

Molly Weasley opened the letter she had received and read it over again. It was…a surprise. But Hermione always had had a good heart. She and Arthur hadn't dared to look too far ahead this season, but it was all starting to come to, wasn't it? Two empty places at the table. Her eyes stung again. The year was ending. It was time to start making plans, and gathering her children to her. And knitting sweaters. There were lots of sweaters to knit. And fudge to bake.

"A-Ar-Arthur?" she called out.

"Yes, love?" he asked. The bags under his eyes were darker than they'd been since Ginny was too young to sleep through the night and Ron was teething, and Fred and George were just starting to learn that even though they were smaller than Percy they outnumbered him and could torment him just fine. But he still stood by his Mollywobbles and looked after her. Always.

She licked her dry lips. "I need yarn. And my knitting needles—all of them, mind. And…my wand. And chocolate. Could you get some chocolate? We're going to have guests for the holidays, and the children will be here. There's so much to do and time is slipping away. I'll go tidy the kitchen."

Arthur felt a stirring of hope in his chest. Molly had gone through phases of quiet lethargy these last months, and phases of keeping herself as busy as possible. He wasn't sure if this was just another phase of busyness—maybe it was—but there was a light in her eyes. At this point, he was glad to see anything that put a light in her eyes. Some days she seemed like her old self. Other days, it was like she'd lost a piece of her soul. Two pieces of her soul. "Anything you need, love."

"And get parchment and a quill. We need to start writing too the children and figuring out where everyone will sleep. We'll have a full house." As Molly moved into the other end of the kitchen to start tidying the things she'd left sitting, Arthur noticed the letter on the table.

December 5, 1998

Mrs. Weasley,

I've been thinking of you. If your door is still open, I'd like to come over for Christmas. I'm sorry I've been distant. I've been trying to wrap my head around the new shape of my life now. You belong in my life. I'm sorry I haven't been there.

Harry came over last week. He's looking good, though as usual, he ought to eat more. He's helping look after his godson, Teddy Lupin.

I'm keeping busy—I've been working with George, and I've just started a potions apprenticeship with Damocles Belby. I have also been helping Draco Malfoy adapt to life without magic. As you may know, Harry's testimony on his behalf convinced the Wizengammot to treat him with leniency. He's adapting to Muggle life very well, but he has nowhere to go for the holidays. His mother has been exiled, and his father is in Azkaban. Would he be welcome at the Burrow?

Love,

Hermione

Arthur let out a breath. He had never imagined the day that they'd invite a Malfoy over for Christmas. But of course they would. How could they not when Hermione sent a letter like this? And Harry too. And Teddy Lupin. The house would be overflowing. It might be just what Molly needed. "I'll start writing to the children," he offered.

Author's Note: What did you think? Big chunks of the chapter got moved around and reordered and tossed out and brought back. Draco and Hermione did not want to cooperate with me at all-Hermione wanted to cry and absolutely ruin the evening. Had to fight her on it. Did it iron out okay in the end? And totally taking suggestions on an alternate name for this chapter. Hadn't realized I already used "Surprises" once. I may have to deviate from my chapter title format at this point...I'm running out of words that start with S.

Update: At SSDawning's suggestion, I renamed the chapter "Suggestions."