Two in one day! The story is mostly from Hermione's perspective but a couple of times there are story elements that needed to be told from Draco's perspective. Plus it let's us see just how he feels about her. I even edited out the swearing for you and tried to do it creatively, which I mention because it was one of the differences between their two voices. I hope you enjoy it, he's rather frank with himself and it throws a little more light on about the last three chapters. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 25 – Draco's Christmas

Draco calmly pushed the trolley with his trunk and owl away from the shocked Mrs. Weasley and out of King's Cross Station. He continued until he reached a nearby alley, ducked down it, and leant against the wall. He took deep breaths to steady himself. He had presented a calm exterior, of course, he did still have his dignity after all, but so much else he had changed. He was determined not to show them, especially Potter, how important their opinions had become to him. Hermione knew, he was sure, but she didn't say anything out of respect for him.

That was a new emotion for him: gratitude. He was experiencing a lot of new emotions this year, although he was also having the best time of his life. Well, new might not be the best word. He had probably had these emotions before, he was only human, but he had become very good at shutting down certain parts of himself. It was strange to not only to allow himself to feel compassion but to embrace it. And his feelings for Hermione. He definitely had them, he knew. Having her in his bed this morning, wearing his clothes, her hair bushier from being slept on, it had been so...sexy. That had been surprising. And pleasant. Then she had come back to give him the kiss he had asked for. Well, he hadn't exactly asked but she understood he had wanted one and that was his way of asking.

Draco wasn't entirely sure if this was all a good idea, but he was enjoying it and so he wasn't going to stop. He did have to calm himself before he met his parents, however. They had asked him for dinner tonight and he was going to inform them he would not be there for Christmas dinner. Draco took a deep breath, checked the alley for muggles and turned on the spot.

He left his trunk in his London flat, letting his owl from its cage and pulling a set of robes on. He stood for a minute again, pushing all thoughts of Hermione, Potter, and the Weasleys behind his mental barriers and putting on his expressionless mask before he turned on the spot again. The Malfoy Manor appeared before his feet and he tried to steel himself as he began to walk. The house disgusted him now, thinking of the Dark Lord stalking its rooms and all the tortures and murders that had happened there. He had reached the gate and unconsciously raised his left arm as he approached. There was a bang and he was thrown back, the breath knocked out of him as he hit the ground. He leapt up, forcing the air back in his lungs as he whipped his wand out, peering into the shadows. The gates formed into the great face and boomed at him.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Draco Malfoy! I have a dinner appointment!" He snarled at the face. There was no one around and the gate had been triggered. Draco looked down. Ohhh. He supposed he should be glad. This meant he was truly no longer a Death Eater. The gate had required a Dark Mark to pass through and he no longer no one.

"Just let me in, my parents are expecting me." Draco said more quietly, secretly hoping they hadn't heard anything.

The gate swung open to admit him and he stormed up the drive to the front door, which opened, spilling light onto the steps. There were the black silhouettes of two people against it, looking down at Draco. Well Merlin's dirty underwear, he thought.

"Draco? What's going on? Was there someone else there? Who triggered the gate?" Lucius' voice came from the doors. Draco could make out his parents' faces now as they descended a few steps as his vision adjusted to the light. He hesitated, considering lying, but decided it would be easier to get the truth over with.

"I thought you were going to remove those spells, father. No, there's no one else there, don't bother looking." He said as his father began to advance toward the gate.

"It keeps out the unwanted. Why didn't it let you in?" Lucius asked quietly, tapping his cane on the gravel walk.

Draco didn't answer. So anyone without a Mark was unwanted, were they? He looked at his mother and saw the concern hidden behind her stony mask.

"Is there something wrong with your Mark?" Lucius said, voice becoming more dangerous now.

Draco hesitated as his father came up in front of him, his mother trailing behind. There was a noise behind him and Draco spun, wand out, but it was only one of those stupid peacocks of his father's. Ugh! His father had used his distraction to grab his arm and he had to make an effort to stop himself raising his wand again. Lucius ripped up the sleeve and Draco's pale skin was completely visible in the glow from the door. His father's face twisted with rage and horror and his mother gasped.

"What have you done?!"

"I got rid of it. I should never have gotten the cursed thing in the first place." Draco growled.

"Have you lost your mind?! Do you realize what will happen when the Dark Lord returns and discovers your idiocy?!" Lucius snarled, shaking Draco's arm.

"Yes, father, I do. He'll know I've finally found the guts to stand up against the torture and murder and everything he did! But he is not coming back, father. We all saw Potter confront him!" Draco wrenched his arm from his father's grip furiously.

"We thought it was impossible last time, and he returned!" Lucius hissed.

"And now we know why! Potter told all of us: he made multiple horcruxes and they are all destroyed. There was a body, father! The Dark Lord is dead, and I would not rejoin him if he did come back!" The denial in his father's face was making him absolutely furious, but what annoyed him the most was the fear. For most of his life he had idolized his father and there he was, terrified that his son had removed the mark of a dead man.

"It was obviously a mistake to allow you to return to school. McGonagall is no better than Dumbledore and now they've managed to corrupt you. Come, Draco, into the house. We will remind you of your duty." Lucius said fiercely, grabbing at Draco's arm again. Draco stepped back out of Lucius' reach.

"Allow me?! Neither Hogwarts or anyone in it has corrupted me, father." He spat. "I'm not one of you anymore."

Lucius' face twisted with rage again and his mother gasped as Lucius leapt forward, drawing his wand from its cane sheath. Draco backed toward the gate, wand raised to defend himself. His father flung spells at him, although, Draco noted he was not being very creative. Perhaps that meant Lucius did actually have some fatherly affection after all. If he did, Draco considered wryly, it was more likely because he was Lucius' only child and heir than out of any weak emotion like love. His back hit the gate as he deflected a spell with an easy flick of his wand. Lucius roared and surged forward and Draco caught a glimpse of his mother grabbing her husband's sleeve, making him spin. Draco was already wrenching open the gate and running until he was beyond the enchantments of the house and turned into the familiar crushing darkness, which was a much more welcoming embrace than his father's.

Draco appeared with a pop, panting, in his dark London flat. He closed his eyes and waved his wand carefully, checking and adding to his protective spells. Hermione had mentioned a few new ones and he had a feeling he would need them to keep his father out now. He lit the lamps and the logs in the fireplace before he opened his eyes and found the place bathed in a warm glow. He had bought the furniture from muggle department stores and had picked things that wouldn't have looked out of place in their Hogwarts common room. It was full of warm, carved woods and comfortable green armchairs and couches.

Draco ripped off his robes and flung them into the fire, throwing himself onto the couch to watch them burn in satisfaction. He felt a rush of gratitude for Hermione, suddenly very glad he would be spending half his holidays with her. He never thought he would be so concerned about Hermione Granger and considering what he could do to repair his image with the Weasley's. Their opinions had never mattered to him before, in fact it had been quite the opposite, but now if he messed it up they could get Potter to kick him out. He could always come back here, of course, and he liked this place quite a bit, but it was empty. Maybe he would think again about trying to employ a house elf.

Draco rose, thinking to get some parchment and write to Hermione-about what, he didn't know, he just wanted to- when there was a knock at the door. He grasped his wand behind his back as he approached, wanting it ready but hidden in case it was just a muggle.

"Draco, it's me!"

The voice was his mother's. He did not lower his wand, but he did open the door. His mother was wrapped in a dark cloak with the hood up and she had her hands raised.

"I am Narcissa Malfoy, I used to sneak you cookies and treats for the dogs when you were seven and your father was out." She said calmly, pushing back her hood. Draco lowered his wand.

"What are you doing here, mother?" He snapped.

"Still suspicious, even now." She said. It was not a question.

"Always. I've been taught well."

"Your father doesn't know I'm here, Draco. He's smashing things in the basement. I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright, come in, mother." Draco moved aside to let her in. Her eyes swept the flat once and she turned to her son without comment, though he caught the twitch of her lip she tried to hide. So she didn't approve of his home. Well, too bad, it was his, and he liked it, he thought, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

"I can't say I approve of your choice, but I also can't blame you. Your father...overreacted. We thought the Dark Lord was finished before and he returned."

So what you mean is I'm sorry about that, please understand you father is afraid, Draco thought, but he kept his face blank and just nodded.

"You realize you have clearly shown your allegiance? Although you were smart enough to remove the Mark, I hope my son is smart enough not to brag about it."

"Of course, I am, mother, thank you." Draco snapped coldly. "The woman who helped me remove it knows, and a few who needed to be told. Potter is one of those few, mother. Yes, I am fully aware that if fighting breaks out again that I will be seen as in league with the Aurors."

"Potter? And a woman? Who?!" Narcissa snapped. He knew she was conflicted about Potter; disliking the Chosen One on principle, but he had saved Draco's life multiple times during the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco would have died a miserable death if Potter hadn't been so Gryffindor-ly noble.

"Yes, mother. Credit where it is due. Potter will catch those still free, he is determined no one else will suffer and die. That is all you need to know." He said, coldly.

"It's that Granger girl, isn't it? Potter's friend. I'm surprised you let a mudblood perform spells on you, Draco." Narcissa said, her face paling.

"Mother, family or not if you use that word again you will leave my home. She is a brilliant witch and without her I would never have been free of that thing, and Potter would never have been able to do what he did in May. Credit where it is due, mother." Draco tightened his grip on his wand. He would expel her by force if he had to. No one was going to call Hermione that again. Beyond being a very talented witch, no one insulted the girl he had feelings for. His mother was so shocked it showed through her mask, and she stood, mouth slightly open and immobile. Finally she nodded.

"I cannot say I approve and there will be difficulties, I am sure." She pulled her hood back up and she walked toward the door.

Draco followed her, still holding his wand. She paused, looking hard at him and his arm, now bare of the blotch her husband's had. He met her gaze without hesitation. She seemed to reach a decision and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you, Draco. You are your own man now, and even if we don't like your decisions, you are probably stronger than we were."

"Thank you, mother."

Draco allowed her to kiss his cheek before she disappeared just outside the door, wanting to get back before Lucius discovered her missing. Well, that was unexpected. He wasn't sure whether she had made him feel better or worse. Maybe she meant that in time they would accept his decision, especially once they realized the Dark Lord would not return. "Probably stronger" he thought, however far they had fallen in the esteem of the Ministry or the wizarding world they still had their dignity and their own ridiculous self-importance. Still, that was more affection she had shown to him through most of his life. The last time he remembered her kissing his cheek was probably before he went off to Hogwarts for the first time.

He turned his thoughts again to Christmas day and he felt a nervousness his face did not show. He really needed to impress the Weasleys now. He pulled out parchment and quill and wrote a short note to Hermione. When he finished he read it over. No, it didn't show the nerves he was feeling, although Hermione often seemed to know anyway. Occasionally she was very good at it, he had found, even if she was terrible when her own feelings were concerned.

He sealed the letter and set it aside to send in the morning, he had a week until Christmas after all. An important week. He needed to plan. Probably pies, that always went over well, and wine, maybe a bottle of fire whiskey, but he would think that over. He would have to do a bit more than that, maybe something for Potter and Weasley, for Ginny Weasley, his aunt and his cousin. Of course, there was Hermione, too. He would have to find something special for her. Draco grinned into the fire as he considered his half formed plans.

His week went mercifully faster than Hermione's. He wrote up a list of the things he needed to do for Christmas and started on that first. He was in Diagon Alley every day, crossing items off his list or amending it in the morning then the rest of the day he sat in Florean Fortescue's parlor. He spent the hours sitting in front of a huge pile of paper which included both his homework and the paperwork for the shop.

Draco got through most of the paperwork quickly but there were a few issues to sort out. He was rather pleased that they had done so well without him. He enjoyed business, he was discovered he was very good at running things, balancing books, and investing money. His family had plenty of money and property and a few pieces of it had been transferred into his name when he had hit seventeen. He also knew that his parents owned a large amount of money invested in muggle stocks and such. When they had told him about it he had gone and looked it all up, trying to understand the muggle stock market and how it worked. He when he had come out of his studying he had good understanding of it and he was pretty sure his parents didn't. He was also pretty sure they detested the idea of owning muggle money and he thought he might be able to convince them to part with it, he didn't even know if they knew what they had. Trust to his parents to think all muggles and muggleborns were scum but to own pots of muggle money and know exactly how much it all was worth.

He worked most of the week, keeping himself so busy he didn't notice just how busy he actually was. He just knew that at the end of the day he collapsed into his bed and slept well, not dreaming, which he was rather pleased about, since he still had quite a few nightmares. He thought about Hermione every time he worked down the pile of paperwork enough to find some of his homework and work on that for a change. He distantly realized through the haze of his work that he missed discussing the homework with her and her company in general, even if he would never admit it.

Draco had been shocked out of his work when he had seen the Weasleys walk past, a smiling Hermione behind them. There was Mr. Weasley looking meekly at his wife, Potter with Ginny's hand, George and Ron talking, and then Hermione. He was considering how annoying it was trying to talk about them and call them all Weasley when there were three of them to call that, when Hermione entered the shop.

Suddenly all he could feel was how much he was pleased to see her. Merlin's pants this was pathetic, how much he had missed her, one side of his mind said. It was the side which still took pride in being a pure blood Malfoy, but he ignored it. He would never tell her that he missed her, but he wasn't going to suppress it because of any stupid antiquated rules either. Draco was also genuinely sorry he couldn't kiss her. He very much wanted to reach across the table, knock off all the paperwork and kiss her until one of his employees had to come and separate them because people had started staring. She was being so thoughtful and blushing like that; she was being so...Hermione. Well, he had to do something, and sending them ice creams all summer seemed to have been a good trick, so he sent her off with butterbeers. Her comment about him having plenty of opportunities to kiss her later had been pleasantly surprising, but he had stored it away for further consideration later and taken it in stride in the moment.

But it was an interesting comment, Draco thought as he watched her go. It had meant that she understood why he couldn't do anything in public and that she was alright with that. It also meant that she was not opposed him, quite the opposite, he would be willing to bet on that. He grinned to himself, leaning back in his chair, picturing her in his bed again. It had been frightening at first, not knowing what she had been given and feeling a stab of fear that it had been poison, and then there had been the immense anger that someone had dared to try and kidnap her like that, especially with him and Potter right there. He had felt as though he could have performed a very effective cruciatus curse, and that was why he had declined Potter's invitation to join the search. Because he wouldn't have been searching, he would have been hunting, and if he had found someone, they would have been hurt.

But it had all worked out magnificently for him; Hermione would never have suggested she sleep in his bed and asked him to stay with her if she had been in her right mind. Still, he had been good, he had curled around her, but only after she had pressed against him, really he had just done what she had asked, and even then he knew where to draw the line. He wouldn't have kissed her again, even if she had asked, not while she wasn't entirely with recent events. He didn't want to be a source of regret in her life. But he had been very pleased when she had woken, realized where she was and who she was with, and had not left the bed but had lain back down.

Draco smiled to himself, dug his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework out of the pile and stuffed it back inside his bag. He would save that to do with Hermione. It was only two days away now and his preparations were almost ready. Another day and a bit and he would have all the paperwork done and then he could spend the rest of the Christmas Eve making the final preparations and pickups. He was nervous, but he had done all he could without, he hoped, going overboard and there was no way would let them see just how much this meant to him. He put away his things, levitating the pile and paperwork back into the office and filing the completed bits in their places. He nodded to his employees on the way out and strolled down the street to the one shop he had visiting multiple times now to pick up his Christmas gift for Hermione.