Dear Jenniluz,

Merry Christmas to YOU. Consider this your present.

And to the rest of you, HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Review me, it can be my present. Or mail me a present if you'd like. You can mail me a review printed out on holiday stationery.

Disclaimer: Heri Pahtr billungs tu Jey Kei Wrawlengk


"Where are we going?!" she repeated. He blatantly ignored her, arms full of ridiculous amounts of candy, in order to sink his teeth ponderously into a bit of ambiguous-looking jellybean. With nothing less than utmost satisfaction, he realized that he had somehow selected a toffee-flavored one. He popped it into his mouth with a grin and turned to face her.

"Listen, Granger," he shot, rolling the sweet into place between his teeth and his cheek. "I've just gotten a toffee Bertie Bott's. Let me enjoy this." She, obviously confused, threw up the hand that was not clutching the incredible satchel of Honeydukes' goods.

"What are you talking about?!" she asked exasperatedly. He flipped around again and walked ten paces, then swung open a little painted door and pushed her through. She cried in what was probably outrage, but he paid her no mind. "Jesus Christ," Hermione angrily muttered to herself, her eyes tracing the complex wooden structure surrounding them. It was dark. There was probably four or five tons of wood nailed in criss-cross formation above their heads, and, nearly three hundred meters up, a ceiling of evenly-spread planks. The two were forced to duck around the boards in order to move in any direction at all.

"This way," Draco announced brightly, shoving himself through a particularly tight hole. She grunted but followed him, dragging her fingers furiously along the wood. "Don't do that, love," he reprimanded. "You'll ruin your nails."

Finally he reached the edge of the maze and turned back to see how far she'd progressed. It wasn't far. He chuckled to himself and made to pull her through a tiny wedge of space between two thick boards, but she batted his hands away and yanked her skirt up five or six inches before swinging one immaculate leg onto the other side. He raised his eyebrows and smirked approvingly. When she'd made it through and tossed her candy at his feet, he reached blindly out in front of him until his palms touched heavy fabric. He traced his way downwards until he felt the scalloped bottom edge, and then threw it up in one go. He watched for Hermione's reaction.

Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she tried to adjust to the light, ducking slightly in order to get a better view. He grinned, expecting delight.

Instead she displayed horror.

Her face contorted in fear as she whirled around to face one very confused Draco Malfoy. "Not here!" she sputtered.

"What's wrong?" he teased, kicking the bags out from under the cloth. "Afraid?" Clever Draco knew that she would never back down from a challenge.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, tossing her hands down around her sides. He frowned.

"I don't care," he answered plainly, dragging both bags towards the center of the field. "This is going to be fun."

"For whom?" Hermione spat, jogging to keep up with him.

"Everyone!" he laughed, lifting the bags off the ground for emphasis. He heard her scoff somewhere behind him.

"I highly, highly doubt it. Take me back."

"I will!" Draco promised. "After this."

"Draco Malfoy, I--"

"Hermione Granger, you what?" She closed her mouth with a loud snap and he glanced over his shoulder. She had obviously talked herself out of arguing, for her arms were crossed so tightly around her chest that it was as if she were holding back a ferocious hippogriff of dislike. "Here, now," he soothed, removing his wand from his pocket. "You will have fun. I promise." He turned to face the edge of the pitch and pointed his wand, calling, "Accio Cleansweep!" The two watched, Draco mortified and Hermione amused, as the broom shed across the field rattled slightly and then stopped moving. He cleared his throat, not willing to chance a look at her for fear of her expression. "Accio Cleansweep!" he repeated. Once again, the door to the shed moved for a second or two and then froze. He bit his lip and faced her. "Hermione, would you be a dear and--"

"NO," she answered immediately. He sneered.

"Fine. Alright. Fine." He gave one more pointed glare before tossing the candy onto the floor and setting off at a run towards the opposite end of the field, grumbling as he went. He reached the shack and attempted to tear it open furiously, but found it locked. He kicked at the door before smacking the lock fiercely with his wand and bellowing "ALOHOMORA." It shot off and landed fifty feet away. He threw the door with all his might and, to his chagrin, it bounced back with equal force. He shoved it out of the way and snatched up the first broom he saw, barely even glancing at the name etched along the tail. "I'VE GOT IT, HERMIONE!" he screamed sarcastically, pointing eagerly at the tip. When he reached her she was smirking, her eyes sparkling with mirth. He curled his lips angrily at her. "Shut up," he muttered.

"What, you didn't get me one?" Hermione inquired half-seriously, tapping her finger against the slightly splintering wood of his Cleansweep.

"No, I didn't get you one," he mocked, affecting an annoyingly high-pitched and significantly more nasal version of her voice. She scoffed at him and lifted one patronizing eyebrow. "Get on," he commanded in an angry mutter. Her eyes split wide open.

"What?!"

"Get on my broomstick!" He fought himself not to laugh at his accidental innuendo. "At once!"

"No!"

"I'm being serious!"

"So am I!"

"Come here!"

"Make me!"

"Hermione Granger, you put your sweet little ass up on this broom immediately--"

"Or what?"

"Or--or--" he stammered furiously. He racked his brain for an idea and came up with one after only seconds of thought. Unfortunately, the idea hadn't fully processed before he acted. "THIS!" he screamed suddenly, and he kicked the sweets out of the way before stealing one muscular arm around her waist and snatching her up tight to his abdomen. She screeched and flailed around a bit as he brought his foot to the ground with as much force as he could muster. They were a hundred feet in the air before either of them knew it, and she looked positively green. He couldn't help but smile as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Obviously, he had taken her breath away.

"DRACO. FUCKING. MALFOY!" she gasped finally.

"Hermione," he answered.

"PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" she sobbed, her fingernails digging painfully into his skin. He winced and nodded.

"Alright," he sighed. Then, the filthy liar merely tilted the broom at a sharp angle and swung her over so that her waist was balancing on the broom, rather than hanging precariously off his right arm. She screamed twice as loud, the noise hitting his eardrums like a shrieking teakettle. Her legs fought the air for some kind of foothold, and, finding none, she gathered all of her Gryffindor strength and just managed to hoist one leg up over the broom. Draco was impressed.

Currently, Draco was positioned along the broom like a true Quidditch player--the balls of his feet sitting snugly in the stirrups, his right fist just before his left around the handle, his entire torso leaning forward expertly. Hermione, however, clumsily straddled the front of the broom, facing the wrong way, with her feet dangling hopelessly below her and her hands over top of each other and gripping the same stretch of wood. He noticed that her knuckles were rapidly turning white and involuntarily let out one loud bark of laughter.

"I'm going to be killed, and it's going to be your fault," she moaned, an unrealistic amount of fear staining her face.

"You're not going to be killed," Draco assured her, leaning forward slightly to press his forehead against hers. She jerked away.

"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU BLOODY FUCKING--"

"I can see where I'm going!" Draco yelled back, his shoulders tensing. "Just because you can't doesn't mean that I can't," he added with a snicker.

"Draco, I want to go down," she whined, clearly terrified.

"I'd love for you to go down," he answered brightly, removing his eyes from the skies in order to wink at her. Her cheeks colored slightly.

"We'll never end up doing that if you kill me up here," she told him hopefully, judging his face for a reaction. He cocked one eyebrow. He knew what she was doing.

"How amazing does my hair look, Hermione?" he asked her suddenly. From the corner of his eye he saw her face harden in distaste. "Flying around all over the place, I mean? You can be honest."

"You're so--"

"Beautiful," he finished smartly. "I know."

"Let me get behind you," Hermione demanded after a moment's pause. He looked down at her, surprised.

"Why, you cheeky little thing!" he grinned.

"Stop. I don't like being in front."

"I never would have guessed," he laughed, leering at her. She rolled her eyes and grit her teeth.

"Please, Draco."

"That's good, Hermione," he smirked. "Beg for it."

"Draco Malfoy, you insufferable twat, either bring me down or let me sit behind you!" she screeched, boldly removing one shaking fist to grab at the front of his sweater. He grinned at her before tilting his head to one side.

"I'd let you finish taking it off, Hermione, but it's a bit chilly up here," he sighed. She was clearly about to scream at him again but he made so sharp a left turn that she was instead forced to throw both arms around his midsection and nearly cut off the airflow to his lungs. Even after he touched down on top of Gryffindor Tower, he allowed her to continue squeezing the life out of him. He removed the broom from underneath them and held it carefully in his left hand, using his right to steady her against the sloping roof.

"What the bloody fuck is wrong with you?" Hermione hissed. "Why on earth would you bring me up here?!" Draco blinked at her.

"If I'd brought you back down to the Quidditch Pitch, you'd just run off, now, wouldn't you?" She blushed. Obviously that's exactly what she'd been planning. "Oh, you wound me, Hermione," he choked, pressing his fingertips to his chest in fake sorrow. "You keep forgetting how devilishly clever I am." She shot a hot breath of air from her nostrils before remounting the broom, being careful to scoot all the way to the end so that he could climb on as well.

"Make this quick, Malfoy," she said briskly, screwing her arms into his ribcage. He rolled his eyes.

"Your wish is my command." He kicked off and leaned forward, shooting them off towards the Quidditch Pitch before realizing that her feet were in his stirrups. "You'll need to move, love," he shouted, nudging her toes with his heels. "I need those." She obliged immediately, twisting her legs up and holding them there. Eventually, however, she must have gotten tired, because, to his immense satisfaction, she soon hooked her calves around his own--presumably in order to give her muscles a rest. Draco found himself grinning nonetheless, and he rewarded her for this new intimacy by dipping low over the towers surrounding the field. She shrieked into his ear and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Fuck, he was going to have to take her flying more often. The one drawback was that he was rapidly becoming aware of a searing pain against his ribs, where she was currently squeezing him with enough force to kill a large animal.

"Hermione," he called, twisting his head slightly to be sure that she could hear him.

"Yes?" she answered obediently.

"You'll need to move your hands," he urged, grimacing slightly. She sounded panicked when she replied.

"Why? Why, why, why?"

"You're hurting me," he explained, wriggling uncomfortably.

"Oh!" she cried, her head shooting away from his in concern. "Sorry!" To his delight, she chose to lower her arms so that they rode low along his hips, her forearms dangerously close to the front of his pants.

"This is much better," he chuckled slyly. "Thank you."

"Sure," Hermione shouted, pressing her face back into the smooth skin of his neck.

Hermione's knees buckled when he dismounted. He caught her, of course, but he couldn't help but laugh as he did. She sighed deeply and ran one hand through her hair, which had fallen loose of its ponytail and now looked ridiculously larger than usual. Draco found it quite amusing. It stood straight up in places and fell flat in others. He let his eyes fall and noticed that the rest of her looked equally disheveled--her v-neck hanging off one shoulder and her skirt rumpled up around her gorgeous ass. Even her shoelaces had come untied. She looked horrendous. He laughed again and she glared at him.

"I do not fly well, Draco," she told him angrily, lifting her other hand to pat down her hair.

"I fly very well," he mused, and he hooked his hands under the hem of his sweater. Hermione took a step backwards.

"What are you doing?!" she asked, a bit too loudly.

"Sweating," he answered plainly, smirking at her scandalized expression. He swooped it over his head and tossed it to the ground, then looked down to examine the puddles of moisture collecting along the length of his torso. He made a face and ran one hand from his chest to his waistband before wiping it against his trouser legs. "Do I smell?" he asked her, moving closer.

"N-no," she squeaked, taking a step backwards.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, lowering his head as he approached.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," she nodded furiously.

"Hermione, you're not even close enough to--"

"If you stank, I'd be able to smell you from here!" she assured, continuing to retreat away from him.

"Just smell me," he commanded, annoyance evident in his voice, before catching her about the waist again and dragging her towards his chest. She brought her arms up, probably to protect her from the allure of his glorious muscles, and turned her head to the side as she collided with his skin. He watched her eyelashes flutter and her mouth open.

"You--smell--g-goo-" she attempted, her entire body tensing against his. "Fine." she finished, and she slid herself out from underneath his arm.