Draco was horror-struck.
Draco Malfoy, sit on Santa's knee, and tell him what he wanted for Christmas? Not likely. It was not going to happen, and Draco opened his mouth to vehemently object, but to no avail. He caught Hermione's eye, and felt a sickening concern in the pit of his stomach that if he didn't do this, he would be finding his own way home. His eyes dropped to the ground.
The bargain was made - Draco's humiliation in return for the anger he had caused Hermione.
They joined the queue.
There were children everywhere, all around them. If it wasn't "Mummy, can I have this?" it was "Will you tell Father Christmas how good I've been? He might not believe me!" Draco looked at his surroundings, taking a moment to properly take in the people crowded around him.
There was something about the children, something in their faces. It was almost as if they had a glow to them, like angels. And coming from Draco, who did everything in his power to avoid small children believing them to be as aggravating as the result of undiluted Bubotuber pus upon skin, that was saying something. Perhaps it was in the pinkness of their cheeks, or the huge smiles plastered across their little round faces as they raced around crashing into their parents at top speed, just so excited at the prospect of...
"Christmas." Hermione spoke softly, reading Draco's mind.
He looked at her, stunned. "How did you..."
"How did I what? Know what you were thinking?" Hermione gazed innocently into his eyes. She looked away and laughed. "I have my ways, Draco." Her voice became even softer. "You know, you're not as difficult to read as you like people to think."
Queuing up to see Father Christmas seemed an oddly inappropriate place to remain in silence, especially seeing as the threesome were surrounded by a highly animated crowd, but Draco was grateful for it. He wasn't quite sure what to say to Hermione after that. And he hadn't been sure of what to say to Lisa since meeting her. He was still feeling strangely uncomfortable in this muggle environment, despite having spent the last couple of hours trying to take his mind off of it. He used the time to reassure himself that everything would be fine; he would get home, he would go back to hating Hermione, his father would laugh the whole incident off...
Just a minute, who was he kidding? Draco swallowed hard. His father would go absolutely mental when he got home. Not only had he failed his Apparating Test, a thought that had actually slipped his mind since meeting Hermione, but he had not even come home straight away after doing so. The thought of admitting failure to his own father filled Draco with immense dread.
Then another thought struck him. Go back to hating Hermione? When had he ever stopped hating her? And when had he started calling Granger 'Hermione' in his head? In fact, why was she even in his head at all?
This is ridiculous, Draco thought to himself, you're being irrational. He suffocated the questioning voice inside his head, and started to think about Quidditch... It was a lot less complicated.
"Oooh, we're next!" Lisa giggled, excitedly. Hermione looked up, startled. It seemed to Draco that she had been doing something thinking of her own. He glanced over his shoulder - quite a line had built up behind them. The teenage elves were over in the corner of the room, sitting on toy boxes covered in fluffy white fake-snow. They were taking a well-deserved break, fanning themselves with their hats and removing their curly-toed green shoes. Being festive had the downside of also being thoroughly exhausting.
Another 'elf' emerged from Santa's grotto.
"Welcome to Santa's Grotto!" He smirked at Lisa, Hermione and Draco. "I see our elves," he nodded towards the three exhausted teenagers in the corner, "haven't let a single person slip through without meeting the big man..."
He opened a small silver gate, "come on in, straight through and first turning on the left."
The three of them wandered onwards, down a small corridor, whilst the elf closed the gate behind them, striking up a new and rather sycophantic conversation with a haggard looking mother-of-two behind them.
The floor of the cabin was covered by about two inches of fake snow. Draco wondered why there would ever be snow INSIDE a house, but he ignored his urge to make one of his usual sarcastic comments. There were fairy lights all over the ceiling, and models of elves, reindeer and gift-boxes wrapped in sparkling paper and satin bows all along the side of the corridor.
They turned left into a small room.
"Santa!" Lisa cried.
A padded man in a white fur-trimmed red suit sat on a silver throne in the centre of the room, accompanied by two more adolescent elves, who both looked as bored as a plank of wood, and looked as though they had the combined IQ between them, of the same plank of wood.
"Ho ho ho!" The man winked at her. "Welcome to my humble abode my dear. Come and sit on my knee." He gestured, and winked again.
Lisa shyly stepped forward and sat gingerly on his knee.
"What is your name? And dare I ask, have you been a good girl?"
Lisa giggled. "I'm Lisa. And as a matter of fact, I have." She smiled at Santa. "I've been very good." She winked back at him. "In fact, I've even managed to make my own bed to help my mummy out every day."
"Excellent, excellent." Father Christmas laughed heartily. "In that case, Lisa, I will be sure to pay your house a visit on Christmas Eve. But first, you'll have to tell me what it is you'd most like me to deliver."
Lisa thought for a moment, and then said in a stage whisper. "It's not really for me, and it's not really a present. Can I still ask?" She grinned mischievously.
"Of course." He motioned for her to continue.
Lisa's voice dropped to a whisper, and she cupped her hand to Father Christmas' ear. His eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. He cast a gaze over at Hermione, and then looked to Draco before staring straight ahead again, looking pensive.
"Right... Mm-hmm..." He stroked his beard and drew away. "Is that all?"
Lisa nodded, still smiling.
"Well young lady, I'll see what I can do." She jumped off of his lap, and dusted some fake snow off of her jacket sleeves. "In the meantime, keep making your bed." He winked again, and then reached into a sack at the foot of his throne. "And have a very Merry Christmas, Lisa." He handed her a small, wrapped package. "Here's a little something for the time being."
"Thank you!" Lisa smiled and skipped off, and waited by the door marked exit in glowing green letters for her two companions.
Hermione was next. She tentatively walked towards Santa, and sat, as Lisa had done, on his lap.
"Well, well," he chuckled, "another pretty girl..." Hermione blushed slightly, Draco smirked to himself.
He asked the same questions as he had done to Lisa. Hermione obediently answered.
"I'm Hermione. I think I've been a good girl, I've certainly done all my homework on time this year." She looked down and flushed when answering the question 'and did you get good marks?' "I came top..."
"A clever one..." Santa nodded towards his elves, who sent forced grins back to him. "And what would you like for Christmas?"
Hermione answered almost on cue. "Its also not for me. But it would be a gift. In fact, I think it would almost be a dream come true..." Her voice trailed off as Santa took in what she was saying.
"Yes..."
"Well, it's for a friend of mine." She looked at Draco, and without taking her eyes off him, she continued. "I want him to ..." She stopped. "I'm sorry, that was rather strange. Forget it." She laughed nervously. "Just bring me a Magic-8 Ball and I'll be fine!" And with that, she too hopped off the red-suited lap.
He held up his hand. "Don't worry Hermione, I will do my best to make sure your 'friend', no matter who he is," for a split second, Draco was sure Santa's eyes flickered towards him, but he couldn't be sure, "will have something to look forward to this year." He reached into the same bag, and pulled out a small pink parcel. "Here you go, something for the train home. Merry Christmas!"
Hermione smiled and thanked him, before joining Lisa by the exit sign.
"Good day, young man." The repeated gesture to sit on his knee was back.
"Umm..." Draco held up his hands, "I- I think I'll pass."
Hermione and Lisa threw him a look, which he pointedly ignored.
"Don't be silly." Santa gave a good-natured laugh. "Sit down! There's nobody here to laugh, and besides," his round, amiable face beamed, "I want to know about what a good boy you've been."
Reluctantly, Draco took a step forward and sat on his lap. He was blushing again, and made a point of ignoring the girls' giggling to the left of him.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? What would your name be?"
"Draco." Draco felt particularly uneasy. Here he was, a 17 year old boy sitting on Father Christmas' lap about to discuss how GOOD he had been, and what presents he wanted thrown down his chimney on Christmas Eve. It was almost laughable. In fact, if it had been anybody but himself, and he had been the one watching, Draco would have been on the floor laughing.
"And have you been good this year?"
"Not really." Draco drawled, carelessly. "I haven't been nice, I haven't done anything good. And quite frankly," he added quite rudely, "I'm not so sure I care."
"That is sad..." Santa's face fell, his fake white beard sagging off his face. He obviously hadn't planned for that. Answering to discourteous teenagers had obviously not been mentioned in the job-description. After a moment's thought, he recovered from the obstacle Draco had placed in front of him.
"But nevertheless, Christmas is a time for joy, and I, being so jolly and festive," he then threw in a 'ho ho ho', to prove this point, "am in a forgiving mood."
He laughed, nervously this time.
"So what would you like to find in your stocking on Christmas this year?"
Draco laughed coldly. "A broomstick."
"A...broomstick?" He was confused.
"Yes," Draco said, matter-of-factly, "A broomstick. Preferably a Firebolt, but I'd be satisfied with the new Nimbus."
'Santa' was looking highly confused but nevertheless nodded, pretending to have half a clue about what Draco was saying. He clearly thought the blonde- haired boy on his knee was very peculiar, but not nearly as peculiar as he was rude. Draco enjoyed his bewilderment and took the opportunity to stand up.
"Yes, well," Santa Claus spoke quickly, stroking his beard. "I'll, umm, see what I can, uh, do." He smiled at Draco, but there was definitely no feelings of well-wishing behind that expression.
"Have a VERY merry Christmas, Mr. Claus," Draco's voice was smooth, with a tinge of ice in it. "I'll be sure to look out for you and Rudolph on Christmas Eve!"
He calmly walked to the exit, taking no notice of the stunned looks Hermione and Lisa gave him. He politely held open the door for the two of them, nodded frostily towards a somewhat bemused Father Christmas, and followed the girls back out into the colourful set of the toy department.
***
As soon as they were outside the grotto, Lisa looked at Draco with dislike.
"How rude are you?" She asked, rhetorically.
Hermione looked at him with the same disgust, but there was a slight twinkle in her eye. Trying desperately not to smile, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I'll give you a bloody broomstick!"
He grinned.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Could you have hated that ANY more?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
"You daft sausage..." Hermione joked, "Where's your sense of childhood fun?"
Draco looked at her in full seriousness. "I don't have one."
"Well, by the end of this shopping trip you will!" Lisa interrupted, linking arms with Draco. "What do you say we show Draco how to be a real kid, Herm?"
Hermione looked at Lisa, and then at Draco. She looked up at him, uncertainly, linking her arm with his free one, nervous that maybe he might pull away in repulsion; he didn't.
Hermione smiled. "I couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of today."
Draco Malfoy, sit on Santa's knee, and tell him what he wanted for Christmas? Not likely. It was not going to happen, and Draco opened his mouth to vehemently object, but to no avail. He caught Hermione's eye, and felt a sickening concern in the pit of his stomach that if he didn't do this, he would be finding his own way home. His eyes dropped to the ground.
The bargain was made - Draco's humiliation in return for the anger he had caused Hermione.
They joined the queue.
There were children everywhere, all around them. If it wasn't "Mummy, can I have this?" it was "Will you tell Father Christmas how good I've been? He might not believe me!" Draco looked at his surroundings, taking a moment to properly take in the people crowded around him.
There was something about the children, something in their faces. It was almost as if they had a glow to them, like angels. And coming from Draco, who did everything in his power to avoid small children believing them to be as aggravating as the result of undiluted Bubotuber pus upon skin, that was saying something. Perhaps it was in the pinkness of their cheeks, or the huge smiles plastered across their little round faces as they raced around crashing into their parents at top speed, just so excited at the prospect of...
"Christmas." Hermione spoke softly, reading Draco's mind.
He looked at her, stunned. "How did you..."
"How did I what? Know what you were thinking?" Hermione gazed innocently into his eyes. She looked away and laughed. "I have my ways, Draco." Her voice became even softer. "You know, you're not as difficult to read as you like people to think."
Queuing up to see Father Christmas seemed an oddly inappropriate place to remain in silence, especially seeing as the threesome were surrounded by a highly animated crowd, but Draco was grateful for it. He wasn't quite sure what to say to Hermione after that. And he hadn't been sure of what to say to Lisa since meeting her. He was still feeling strangely uncomfortable in this muggle environment, despite having spent the last couple of hours trying to take his mind off of it. He used the time to reassure himself that everything would be fine; he would get home, he would go back to hating Hermione, his father would laugh the whole incident off...
Just a minute, who was he kidding? Draco swallowed hard. His father would go absolutely mental when he got home. Not only had he failed his Apparating Test, a thought that had actually slipped his mind since meeting Hermione, but he had not even come home straight away after doing so. The thought of admitting failure to his own father filled Draco with immense dread.
Then another thought struck him. Go back to hating Hermione? When had he ever stopped hating her? And when had he started calling Granger 'Hermione' in his head? In fact, why was she even in his head at all?
This is ridiculous, Draco thought to himself, you're being irrational. He suffocated the questioning voice inside his head, and started to think about Quidditch... It was a lot less complicated.
"Oooh, we're next!" Lisa giggled, excitedly. Hermione looked up, startled. It seemed to Draco that she had been doing something thinking of her own. He glanced over his shoulder - quite a line had built up behind them. The teenage elves were over in the corner of the room, sitting on toy boxes covered in fluffy white fake-snow. They were taking a well-deserved break, fanning themselves with their hats and removing their curly-toed green shoes. Being festive had the downside of also being thoroughly exhausting.
Another 'elf' emerged from Santa's grotto.
"Welcome to Santa's Grotto!" He smirked at Lisa, Hermione and Draco. "I see our elves," he nodded towards the three exhausted teenagers in the corner, "haven't let a single person slip through without meeting the big man..."
He opened a small silver gate, "come on in, straight through and first turning on the left."
The three of them wandered onwards, down a small corridor, whilst the elf closed the gate behind them, striking up a new and rather sycophantic conversation with a haggard looking mother-of-two behind them.
The floor of the cabin was covered by about two inches of fake snow. Draco wondered why there would ever be snow INSIDE a house, but he ignored his urge to make one of his usual sarcastic comments. There were fairy lights all over the ceiling, and models of elves, reindeer and gift-boxes wrapped in sparkling paper and satin bows all along the side of the corridor.
They turned left into a small room.
"Santa!" Lisa cried.
A padded man in a white fur-trimmed red suit sat on a silver throne in the centre of the room, accompanied by two more adolescent elves, who both looked as bored as a plank of wood, and looked as though they had the combined IQ between them, of the same plank of wood.
"Ho ho ho!" The man winked at her. "Welcome to my humble abode my dear. Come and sit on my knee." He gestured, and winked again.
Lisa shyly stepped forward and sat gingerly on his knee.
"What is your name? And dare I ask, have you been a good girl?"
Lisa giggled. "I'm Lisa. And as a matter of fact, I have." She smiled at Santa. "I've been very good." She winked back at him. "In fact, I've even managed to make my own bed to help my mummy out every day."
"Excellent, excellent." Father Christmas laughed heartily. "In that case, Lisa, I will be sure to pay your house a visit on Christmas Eve. But first, you'll have to tell me what it is you'd most like me to deliver."
Lisa thought for a moment, and then said in a stage whisper. "It's not really for me, and it's not really a present. Can I still ask?" She grinned mischievously.
"Of course." He motioned for her to continue.
Lisa's voice dropped to a whisper, and she cupped her hand to Father Christmas' ear. His eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. He cast a gaze over at Hermione, and then looked to Draco before staring straight ahead again, looking pensive.
"Right... Mm-hmm..." He stroked his beard and drew away. "Is that all?"
Lisa nodded, still smiling.
"Well young lady, I'll see what I can do." She jumped off of his lap, and dusted some fake snow off of her jacket sleeves. "In the meantime, keep making your bed." He winked again, and then reached into a sack at the foot of his throne. "And have a very Merry Christmas, Lisa." He handed her a small, wrapped package. "Here's a little something for the time being."
"Thank you!" Lisa smiled and skipped off, and waited by the door marked exit in glowing green letters for her two companions.
Hermione was next. She tentatively walked towards Santa, and sat, as Lisa had done, on his lap.
"Well, well," he chuckled, "another pretty girl..." Hermione blushed slightly, Draco smirked to himself.
He asked the same questions as he had done to Lisa. Hermione obediently answered.
"I'm Hermione. I think I've been a good girl, I've certainly done all my homework on time this year." She looked down and flushed when answering the question 'and did you get good marks?' "I came top..."
"A clever one..." Santa nodded towards his elves, who sent forced grins back to him. "And what would you like for Christmas?"
Hermione answered almost on cue. "Its also not for me. But it would be a gift. In fact, I think it would almost be a dream come true..." Her voice trailed off as Santa took in what she was saying.
"Yes..."
"Well, it's for a friend of mine." She looked at Draco, and without taking her eyes off him, she continued. "I want him to ..." She stopped. "I'm sorry, that was rather strange. Forget it." She laughed nervously. "Just bring me a Magic-8 Ball and I'll be fine!" And with that, she too hopped off the red-suited lap.
He held up his hand. "Don't worry Hermione, I will do my best to make sure your 'friend', no matter who he is," for a split second, Draco was sure Santa's eyes flickered towards him, but he couldn't be sure, "will have something to look forward to this year." He reached into the same bag, and pulled out a small pink parcel. "Here you go, something for the train home. Merry Christmas!"
Hermione smiled and thanked him, before joining Lisa by the exit sign.
"Good day, young man." The repeated gesture to sit on his knee was back.
"Umm..." Draco held up his hands, "I- I think I'll pass."
Hermione and Lisa threw him a look, which he pointedly ignored.
"Don't be silly." Santa gave a good-natured laugh. "Sit down! There's nobody here to laugh, and besides," his round, amiable face beamed, "I want to know about what a good boy you've been."
Reluctantly, Draco took a step forward and sat on his lap. He was blushing again, and made a point of ignoring the girls' giggling to the left of him.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? What would your name be?"
"Draco." Draco felt particularly uneasy. Here he was, a 17 year old boy sitting on Father Christmas' lap about to discuss how GOOD he had been, and what presents he wanted thrown down his chimney on Christmas Eve. It was almost laughable. In fact, if it had been anybody but himself, and he had been the one watching, Draco would have been on the floor laughing.
"And have you been good this year?"
"Not really." Draco drawled, carelessly. "I haven't been nice, I haven't done anything good. And quite frankly," he added quite rudely, "I'm not so sure I care."
"That is sad..." Santa's face fell, his fake white beard sagging off his face. He obviously hadn't planned for that. Answering to discourteous teenagers had obviously not been mentioned in the job-description. After a moment's thought, he recovered from the obstacle Draco had placed in front of him.
"But nevertheless, Christmas is a time for joy, and I, being so jolly and festive," he then threw in a 'ho ho ho', to prove this point, "am in a forgiving mood."
He laughed, nervously this time.
"So what would you like to find in your stocking on Christmas this year?"
Draco laughed coldly. "A broomstick."
"A...broomstick?" He was confused.
"Yes," Draco said, matter-of-factly, "A broomstick. Preferably a Firebolt, but I'd be satisfied with the new Nimbus."
'Santa' was looking highly confused but nevertheless nodded, pretending to have half a clue about what Draco was saying. He clearly thought the blonde- haired boy on his knee was very peculiar, but not nearly as peculiar as he was rude. Draco enjoyed his bewilderment and took the opportunity to stand up.
"Yes, well," Santa Claus spoke quickly, stroking his beard. "I'll, umm, see what I can, uh, do." He smiled at Draco, but there was definitely no feelings of well-wishing behind that expression.
"Have a VERY merry Christmas, Mr. Claus," Draco's voice was smooth, with a tinge of ice in it. "I'll be sure to look out for you and Rudolph on Christmas Eve!"
He calmly walked to the exit, taking no notice of the stunned looks Hermione and Lisa gave him. He politely held open the door for the two of them, nodded frostily towards a somewhat bemused Father Christmas, and followed the girls back out into the colourful set of the toy department.
***
As soon as they were outside the grotto, Lisa looked at Draco with dislike.
"How rude are you?" She asked, rhetorically.
Hermione looked at him with the same disgust, but there was a slight twinkle in her eye. Trying desperately not to smile, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I'll give you a bloody broomstick!"
He grinned.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Could you have hated that ANY more?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
"You daft sausage..." Hermione joked, "Where's your sense of childhood fun?"
Draco looked at her in full seriousness. "I don't have one."
"Well, by the end of this shopping trip you will!" Lisa interrupted, linking arms with Draco. "What do you say we show Draco how to be a real kid, Herm?"
Hermione looked at Lisa, and then at Draco. She looked up at him, uncertainly, linking her arm with his free one, nervous that maybe he might pull away in repulsion; he didn't.
Hermione smiled. "I couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of today."