The snow was falling, and Draco Malfoy wanted a present. It was Christmas Eve, but he knew that his wish wouldn't come through. No one wanted him to be there, including himself, and he had absolutely no friends. Except for that… woman. She was always there. Beside him, in front of him, demanding attention from anyone who looked at her. Which was everybody.

Who wouldn't want to stare at the war hero, who had grown up into her knowledge, holding herself with confidence and a sense of somehow unpretentious importance. That was right. Hermione Granger had a disturbing interest in him. But Draco did not like it. He wanted to finish his schooling as fast as he could so he could escape the whispers. The shadow of his name. That was the answer. Change his name and run away to France. His family had many Chateaus there, and the Ministry of Magic had been firm in hiding the situation from other countries.

Ripping his gaze away from the window, he almost squealed in the most undignified way. That was not the face that he wanted to- shaking his head and clutching his hand over his heart, he glared at the face hovering in his vision. Trying to school his face into the classic Malfoy mask of indifference. She pulled herself beside him into the window seat, her hair tickling his nose in the most distracting way.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he replied coldly. Yes, that was right. He had no need for self-righteous war heros, no matter how clever, and kind, and pretty, and confident… no. He did not need any distractions. Her hair tickled his nose and he instinctively inhaled the citrusy scent. Granger turned her head to look at him. Her eyebrow quirked. "Are you smelling my hair, Malfoy?" He felt himself blushing, but he quelled it. He stammered out a denial, and he watched in surprise as she smirked at him.

He glared at her before jumping off the window and vanishing into his room, hoping his outer robes would swirl dramatically as he slammed the door. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Not after the war and in a castle of people who hated him. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started to work on his Ancient Runes essay.

In the two manuscripts compared, the rune alphabet has changed over a course of the 50 years that separated the markings of the two writings. As we see, the rune for "H" has changed from-

Just like Granger had changed. She had grown confident, self-assured… Smacking his head, he turned his gaze back onto the parchment

The curved shape to a straighter shape with dashes. Historically, changes in the Rune Alphabet have taken longer times.

When did she change? Was it through the war? Through Weasley? Did she change the day at Malfoy Manor? When she was tortured? As he closed his eyes, the scene flashed against his eyelids. Clapping his hands over his ears, he tried to block out the screaming. Did his aunt change her so much? Shaking his head, he forced himself to look at his paper.

On other letters of the alphabet, contrary to the rune "H", the straighter lines turned curved, but not "H."

In my deeper dive to a specific letter, I studied the rune "H."

"H" like Hermione…

It seems like the separate change that this rune made stemmed from the great saga of Henora the Great. As this was a defining print, this manuscript was copied without revision, as it was selling out so quickly. Copies of the manuscript were made and sold quickly, and many teachers and writers at the time used the manuscript as a reference for learning the alphabet and many did not notice the mistake that the writer made. Thus, many writers at the time imitated, unknowingly, the mistaken "H." As popularity of the new style grew, it became the new letter for-

A sharp knock resounded through the room and Draco jumped, splashing the ink over his parchment. Cursing loudly as he siphoned it off, he pulled the door open angrily. "When will you get a hint, Granger? I have repeated to you multiple times- I'm working!" Her face flushed angrily as she shouted back. "You never told me anything! You just vanished into your room when I took common courtesy and asked you a polite question!" He brandished his wand, shouting back. "You're not supposed to be like this! Pretty, and confident. You're a beloved war hero, and I'm a Death Eater! You can't be polite to me, or nice, or- whatever the hell you're doing! You're perfect, and I'm… trash." He lowered his wand, realizing what he said. The angry flush of her cheeks drained out.

He stiffly stood there in silence. "I'm sorry. I was out of line there. You were, as you said, only being polite." She flushed again. "I- you're not trash," she stammered out. "And- dinner's ready." Then she fled, leaving Draco staring after her, a look of bewilderment on his face.

Draco closed the door, frowning. His feet leading him to the bathroom, he stared at himself. Imperfect. Shadowed. Dark. When would he escape his name? His past- What would it ta- WAS THAT A SPLAT OF INK ON HIS NOSE? For some strange reason, his mind hated the thought of Granger seeing him like this and laughing. He scrubbed furiously, slamming the door shut.

Pulling on his tie, he swung open the door and made his way to the common area. Walking over to the counter, he saw that the House Elves had already brought for him. Collecting his soup and bread, he sunk into one of the many couches that decorated the room. He tore the bread, dipping it into the steaming hot soup as he closed the book that he had been reading. Slowly, he walked over to the sink, scraping the last dregs out of the bowl, and dumped it into the sink. It was still snowing, and the sun was sinking below the horizon, painting the skies with shades of purple and pink. What makes the sun rise each day? What motivates the sun to end the night with light?

When he was young, his mother used to tell him a story about a smart wizard that coaxed the sun out from it's lair. He quickly washed his bowl and sat on his bed and pulled out an ornate box. Inside, there was a book covered in intricate designs. He opened the cover to the words:

The Sun and, the Wizard, and the girl

Once upon a time, there was an intelligent wizard. He was known as the best wizard of his age, and he was especially skilled in the art of illusion magic, a form of magic lost to us today. One day, the sun did not rise. The clocks kept ticking, the water dripped, and the people woke up, but it was utter darkness. Blackness all around. And while a simple "lumos" spell was easy to bring light, there was no sun. Wizards and Witches around the world conjured large lamps to light the fields they worked in, professors worked by candlelight, but the sun wouldn't rise.

They called on the smart wizard for help, and he arrived. His face grew somber as he surveyed the lands. He had been in his tower, doing a complicated ritual which he paused as soon as he heard the people's cries for help. He landed on the earth and sighed. He told the people- "the sun is discouraged. She thinks that she is not needed anymore, and she thinks there is no point in bringing light to a world that returns to darkness. Someone must remind her of her role in the turning seasons. I will go, but I need a companion." Suddenly, a young girl stepped forward, waving her wand to conjure an illusion of a square which she stepped through. Waving her wand once more, the square cloned and spun around the wizard. "I'll go."

The wizard and the girl departed at once, conjuring horses to ride on. They travelled east across leagues of land, flying above the clouds. Over a course of a few days, they found the lair of the sun. They lightly touched down on the ground, and pulled out their wands. They stepped through the opening of the cave and walked through the twisting tunnel. When they reached the sun, the girl stepped forward softly. "Mother Sun. Why are you discouraged? While you fly below the mountains, you also are the one who chases away the darkness."

The wizard step forward also, waving his wand. He created an illusion of what happened days before, of the people sad as the sun had not risen. He showed the fake ways that the people tried to replicate the sun's brilliance. It was then when the sun spoke up. "See," she said. "The people are smart. They do not need me. They will find a way to thrive in darkness. As it is impossible for the light to win."

"You're wrong," the girl exclaimed. And while the wizard tried to hold her back, she continued. "Yes, we are a smart race, but we need the light! Darkness leads to chaos, but the light- it sheds light on the truth. On what is good, and beautiful. The sun's rays dance on the rounded dewdrops, they illuminate the rainbows, they remind the people of hope." She stepped forward, softly brushing the face of the sun with her fingertips. "The light will always win."

Draco gently shut the book, returning it to its case. Pushing it below his bed, he crossed his arms and lay under the covers. Whispering an incantation, the roof turned transparent, and he counted the stars. One, two, three….

Draco awoke the next morning. Gently pulling off his covers, he sighed in disappointment. There was nothing at the foot of his bed. With his father in Azkaban, and his mother on tight house arrest, there was no one to gift him with anything. Not that he deserved it, he thought darkly. Brushing his thoughts away, he washed his face and brushed his teeth, and before he could second-guess himself, he knocked on Granger's door. The door opened after a while, and she poked her head out. Squealing, she shut the door. After a few moments, the door slowly opened to reveal her, with adorably flushed cheeks and frizzy hair.

"Sorry! I had to grab my robe. I-" she cut herself off. "No matter," he replied. "M- merry Christmas, Granger." He only caught a glimpse of the presents piled on her bed before he turned and left.

The rest of the day passed in a storm cloud. Without any presents, and everyone else in an annoyingly merry mood, he shut himself in his room angrily working on his homework. Withdrawing his meals to his room, he ate in silence until Granger knocked on the door. "Granger." She lifted her chin. "Malfoy. I'm going out to meet my friends at the Three Broomsticks. Will you be going anywhere today?" He scoffed. "I'm not allowed outside Hogwarts grounds. Do you think I could just nip over to Hogsmeade?" He scowled, feeling a tiny triumphant smirk at the look of pity on her face. Her frown continued to curve downwards as she saw his present-less bed. Thankfully, she did not comment. Then, he shut the door in her face.

Stupid Granger with her distractingly pouty lips and her pity, and her caring… He continued to mumble to himself, returning to the last paragraph of his essay.

This concludes my essay about the shifting Runic alphabet and how crucial manuscripts can change the course of history.

The rest of the day passed by relatively quickly, and the only reason that Draco had to leave his room was to attend the Christmas Feast, feigning illness to leave halfway. Retreating to his room, he read the last letter that his mother had sent him.

Dearest Draco,

I hope you are well and healthy. I am in perfect health and the months seem to fly by. I know that it will be a matter of weeks now before we are able to meet again.

Draco. You are good. You are faithful, and loyal, and caring. I know the real Draco, and it is not what others see. I want to know the day when you will look into the mirror and see who I see. A kind, confident, beautiful, bright man. You are growing up nicely, my dear. And I am counting the days until we meet again.

With much love,

Mother

He scoffed. It had been 2 weeks since his mother had sent the letter, and he was sure that she knew that her House Arrest wouldn't end any time soon. It had to be at least 3 months… or was it 4, until she would be free. And even then, she would be chased by whispers and gossip, and disapproving head shakes.

He couldn't imagine his mother- his proud, poised, warm, aloof mother retreating from society, but she didn't know what the legacy of being a death eater would be.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and a surprised Hermione Granger toppled in. Leaping from his bed, he steadied her. She smoothed down her hair (untameable monster), and informed him that she had something for him. He let her into the room and they sat together on the bed. "I… noticed that you hadn't received a present." He sighed. He was hoping that she hadn't noticed that. "And I had um- bought something for you a couple of days earlier. I hope that you'll like it."

She made to get up, but he grabbed her wrist. "Don't you want to see me open it?" Oh fuck's sake. Was he trying to get her to stay? She slowly nodded, and eased herself back onto the bed. The silver wrapping paper crinkled as he laid it beside the green ribbon on the bed. "Nice colour choice," he commented. Lifting the final coverings, he stared in disbelief. She had given him a stuffie? A stuffie? She chuckled dryly at the horrified look on his face. "It seems that you like stuffies, she said, indicating the giant otter on his bed. He'd forgotten about Rory. Yes. He had named his stuffie Rory. He smoothed down his hair. "Well… um…" Malfoy's didn't stutter. Smoothing his hair again, he tried to recover from his shock. "Um…. Thank you? Goodnight, Granger." Then he pushed her out of the door.

It was a rather nice stuffie, if he could say so. It was lovingly embroidered and stitched, and the tiny otter's fur was soft and plushy. The tag read F.A.O. Schwarz. He'd have to ask Mother about that. But first…. There was something he had to do.

He lovingly lined up his big otter, his new otter, his dragon stuffie, and his succulent and began to sing.

He lost himself in the song that his mother had sang to him, an African song from one of her many travels. It was called Korobiro, and it was a muggle song. Father had always hated when she sang it to him, but she still did it, every night as he drifted off to sleep.

He sang, eyes closed, imagining himself soaring above the clouds, deaf to the world below, deaf to his surroundings, that he didn't notice the door creep open.

As he finished his song, he heard a soft voice. "That was a beautiful song." He whirled around to find Granger again. This time, there was a bit of a laugh in her voice as she continued. "I bet your stuffies enjoyed it. Is this a daily occurrence?" He flushed red. "Ah," she lilted. "I see. It is a daily occurrence. You have a wonderful voice, Malfoy." She crossed the room to sit next to him. Picking up his sparkly dragon, she continued. "I like to sing as well. It makes me lose myself in the music. It takes me to places I've never been. It lifts me high and flies me wherever I want. Is it the same for you?" He coughed. "It makes me forget." She turned her gaze to him, but her gaze was filled with something he couldn't explain. It wasn't hatred, or indifference. But some sort of understanding.

"You're not trash, Malfoy," she said, echoing her words from before. "The war changed all of us. But I believe in you. I know you. And I hope you know that I'm speaking the truth." He smiled. A slow smile. "I could never do that. I can't escape my past. And only one person who believes in me- that can't change the hundreds that don't. I admire you, Granger. You're there. Always. Smiling, holding up your head. You're beautiful. Intelligent. Kind. You're the only one who'll look me in the eye without a gaze of hatred. I see… confidence. Bravery. Kindness. Sympathy. You see the best in everyone, and I love that about you."

She cocked her head. "That's strange. It almost sounds as if…" He smiled again. "That's what I'm saying, Granger. And it scares the hell out of me. But I- I love you. And I hope you do to. And even if it's only for tonight… Please. You wanted to give me a Christmas gift. And this is what you can do." He slowly leaned towards her and kissed her.

Their breath mingled as they stared at each other. Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he started to pull away, but suddenly, she pulled him to her and kissed him back.

The snow was falling, and the stars twinkled in the sky, smiling down at the figures in the window, bodies entwined as their every breath was a wish. A hope. One, two, three…

Yay! New story done! And this is a month late, so really sorry about that. However, I'm going to be going on a hiatus because I need to focus on school. I have a fest fic in the works, and that will be crossposted here. Find me on Ao3 with the same username!

I'm also really surprised at the insults in the reviews: it seems like people have downgraded their reviews to insulting the author. To all the people who write reviews on guest mode just because they don't like the ship- look at the pairings tag before clicking on the story and spare us the brain cell loss from reading your reviews.