************************************************************************
Day 3, December 25th
************************************************************************
He was running down an endless corridor... The portraits on the walls were either all wearing deep frowns, or laughing maniacally at him, their eyes flashing with insanity. Their teeth yellow from old age. Their snickers were like echoing yells to his ears.
As he continued escaping as fast as he could, his heart was beating fast in his chest, aching from the effort. The boy kept glancing back at something... but what? He didn't know. All he was thinking about was that that thing chasing him didn't have the best intentions for his sake.
A staircase appeared somewhere far away in front of him.
He accelerated as much as his body could, his blonde hair stuck to his beat red face from transpiration. When he finally reached his goal, he started up. Why up? He asked himself when he had climbed the first steps already – too late to turn back. Up meant safe from the big bad wolf.
Except that it was something far worst than a wolf that was behind him. At the thought, he stumbled forward, his cheek meeting violently the coldness of the stone staircase. Blood was oozing from the joint of his mouth. He looked back, his eyes lit in fear.
His yell echoed from stone to stone of the staircase.
"Malfoy, wake up!" Hermione said as she shook his shoulder.
At the warm feeling of her hand on his body, the man opened his eyes widely, attempting to close his mouth to stop his cries. After a few never ending seconds, he finally did, taking in deep breath threw his nose to calm himself, a gentle feminine hand rested against his too hot forehead.
"You're burning up," she muttered to herself more than to him. Taking out her wand, she said a quick spell to make the fever drop and, carefully, she ran a hand through his wet blonde hair.
Not able to form a coherent sentence yet, Draco looked at her, his eyes boring into her own. Her hair was sprayed everywhere around her face and she lacked her glasses. He was half-surprised and half-pleased to see her in a nightgown, a brown one of that, but it was still an improvement from the pajama bottoms and tank top.
"Time...?"
She took the pocket watch that was hanging from her neck and opened it. It read: '5 minutes until you fall back asleep'.
"Around 4 in the morning, I believe, I never could get used to those magic watches anyways. The muggle ones are much more convenient, really. I mean look at how..." she was about to start on a great debate about the comparison of wizard and muggle technology, but was cut off by an out of breath arch nemesis.
"You talk too much," he whispered, closing his eyes, the corners of his mouth up into a small smirk.
"I..." she started
"Everything okay in here?" Jude's head popped up from the half-opened door. His voice was slow and his words charged with a yawn. He had cleaned the dungeons all of yesterday, and without his wand too, he was exhausted, even if it was indeed Christmas.
Hermione's head shot up in the direction of the door.
"Everything is okay honey, go back to sleep," she said in a reassuring motherly tone.
Glad of being able to return to his bed, but still worried about his father, Jude unwillingly closed the door.
Looking back at Malfoy, she noticed he had gone back to sleep, his hand had moved to set itself around her own. She sighed and summoned a chair, where she sank in and proceeded to find sleep, which she did, quite quickly.
************************************************************************
When Draco Malfoy woke up that morning, he was quite surprised to feel... rested. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time. Decades, it seemed. Before his eyes were opened, he could feel something wasn't right, not wrong, but just different. He sat up in a graceful movement and found that he had been clinging onto Hermione's hand.
Her head was resting on the side of the bed – someone was in for a neck ache. She was sleeping peacefully. Careful not to wake her – he tried to convince himself he didn't feel like putting up with her this early in the morning – he slid his hand away and leveled himself out of his bed, starting towards the shower.
He stopped on the way, looking back at Hermione's sleeping form. Grudgingly and wondering why he was doing this, he returned to her and proceeded to set her in the bed, where she curled up instantly, mumbling something that could have sounded like a 'thank you'.
Showered and dressed, Malfoy entered what was called the Drawing Room, where the Christmas tree had been set. There is no word to actually describe the feeling that Draco felt as he found Harry Potter talking animatedly with his son, both sitting on the floor, over breakfast, among an enormous amount of presents.
"What the...?" was all he could utter at the sight. Even the traditional 'Happy Christmas' couldn't find its way on his lips as the last person he wanted to even see again was indeed in front of him, in his own house, to top it all off.
Jude's eyes lit up as he turned his face towards his father.
"Merry Christmas! Come join us, dad," Jude said, smiling.
Draco swallowed uneasily at the word 'dad'. A word he had never used in his life, he always would call his father 'Sir', 'Father' or even 'Lucius'. But not 'dad', never. He had never been called that before either.
"Potter," he acknowledged the other man.
"Malfoy," the raven-haired man responded.
A silence followed, through which Jude felt rather uneasy. Had he done something wrong inviting Harry over?
"Erm," the boy coughed, getting attention from both men, "Harry has always spent Christmas with us, you don't mind if I invited him, uh?" he asked.
Draco's glare bored into his son's as he shot him an 'I do mind and you are fully aware of it' look.
"You could have told be before though," he shot one more dagger at Harry.
"Sorry," he said, not feeling guilty at all, he was a kid after all, "Where is mum?"
"Sleeping"
"I'll go wake her up, then. Is she still in your bed?"
"Yes"
Harry started coughing the tea he had been drinking as it went down the wrong tube. His eyes went wide behind his glasses as he waited for Jude to close the door. He shot a death glare at his old enemy from school.
"What, in Merlin's name, is Hermione doing in your bed?" Harry's voice was shaking.
"I don't think that's any of your concern, Potter," he couldn't help but smirk at the Boy Who Lived. Oh, what sweet revenge this was.
"Just remember one thing, Malfoy, you don't deserve either of them," he said icily, his voice still sore from the tea he had swallowed wrongly.
Draco's cold glare was set upon him, his lids were slowly becoming mere slits. If there was something that Draco hated it was to be told something he knew and he didn't want to admit to himself. His expression went to stone and when he finally spoke in the silence that had settled itself between them, his voice was of no-reply.
"And maybe you do, Potter?" his breathing was slow and controlled, as was his tone. In front of him, Harry's face went red.
The door opened. A grumpy Hermione, still in her nightgown (and not caring about it for the world), black circles around her eyes, her hair standing in all places (what you call a really bad bed head) entered the room. She had her arm around her son's shoulders, who himself was looking quite pleased: his mum had spent the all night in Draco's room. That was a great Christmas gift.
"You look terrible," Draco greeted her as he took a biscuit from the tray of food lying on the floor in front of him.
"Why, thank you, Happy Christmas to you too"
He smirked, and so did she.
Maybe friendship was too much to ask for, and hate too uncivil to them, but complicity had installed itself swiftly, and maybe it was due to the fact that they had come to understand each other, in a way. Draco knew all of Hermione's weaknesses and used them against her, as did Hermione with his.
************************************************************************
The 'opening the presents' part had gone on pretty well, with Harry and Draco not even looking at each other, which spared a lot of more animosity. Jude had been quite pleased by his numerous presents, especially his new broom. He was currently outside, practicing on it, while Harry had rapidly eclipsed himself, saying he had some important Ministry business to attend to.
"Granger?" he knocked on the door once.
A very lady-like 'uh?' was the answer.
He opened the door and stepped inside, only to find Hermione sitting on her bed, eyes fixed upon her joint hands rested on her feet.
"Just came to ask you if you wanted to join..." he didn't finish his sentence as a sob interrupted him. He saw her bring her sleeve to her eyes, wiping the tears away. "Should I come back later?" he asked, a hand already on the door handle.
"Tell me, Malfoy," she started, her voice feeble and shaky, "do you ever get Christmas presents?"
He stopped dead in his tracks, thoughts rushing in his head. No, he didn't. He had expected that no one would notice, in the excitement of the bright Christmas wrappers. His eyes went glassy, as he could not remember the last time anybody ever gave him anything willingly.
Still deep in thoughts, he was startled to find two arms encircling his waist from behind, Hermione's body pressing against his back, her sobs engulfed in his cloak. He relaxed as he sank into the embrace, feeling particularly warm from where she was leaning on him.
Though, Draco went stiff as he realized who was hugging him and quickly dislodged her hands from his waist. Turning quickly around, he kept a grip on her left hand as he looked deep into her chocolate orbs, his face as expressionless as ever.
"I don't want your pity, Granger"
"It isn't pity, it's called understanding," she replied, her tone matching his own.
He glared sharply at her. "How can you, of all people, understand anything about me?"
She took a deep breath.
"Because we have the same history, whether you like it or not, Malfoy. We both have lived with our parents disapproving of who we truly were. A part of us was ignored by our friends in a way or another, your feelings and my feminine side. And, we were both set to marry someone we didn't love, which is what drove us into each other's arms that night during 7th year"
He was taken aback by her confession, his eyes widened slightly at what she had just said. He knew they were alike in personality, both a little outcasts, and stubborn, and always knowing the answer to everything, but...
"That we didn't love... Pansy. But, you, and Krum, it was your parent's..."
"Idea?" she ended his sentence, raising an eyebrow, "Oh yes, you cannot imagine how pleased they were with him. When I got pregnant, it was a dream coming true, I couldn't back away now that I was having his child, right? How wrong were they..." she ended quietly, almost whispering to herself the last part?
Draco didn't know what to say. There she was, the woman he was supposed to hate, but right now, he felt something that was far way from loathing. It was... pity? No, understanding, he corrected himself.
Not realizing what he was doing, he hitched his hand that was still holding her arm up to her shoulder and hugged her, his other hand resting on her waist band in the small of her back. She laced her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest, not clearly knowing what was happening either.
************************************************************************
A/N: another chappie done, yaii!!! Hope it wasn't too fluffy, I tried to make it progressive for both Hermione's and Draco's developing feelings. Don't worry next chappie will be more in character as it is normal for our emotions to play the yo-yo with us.
Anyhow, no special references in this chappie, at least I don't think so.
Hope you liked it!! And if you didn't, you can still review and tell me why!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!!
Day 3, December 25th
************************************************************************
He was running down an endless corridor... The portraits on the walls were either all wearing deep frowns, or laughing maniacally at him, their eyes flashing with insanity. Their teeth yellow from old age. Their snickers were like echoing yells to his ears.
As he continued escaping as fast as he could, his heart was beating fast in his chest, aching from the effort. The boy kept glancing back at something... but what? He didn't know. All he was thinking about was that that thing chasing him didn't have the best intentions for his sake.
A staircase appeared somewhere far away in front of him.
He accelerated as much as his body could, his blonde hair stuck to his beat red face from transpiration. When he finally reached his goal, he started up. Why up? He asked himself when he had climbed the first steps already – too late to turn back. Up meant safe from the big bad wolf.
Except that it was something far worst than a wolf that was behind him. At the thought, he stumbled forward, his cheek meeting violently the coldness of the stone staircase. Blood was oozing from the joint of his mouth. He looked back, his eyes lit in fear.
His yell echoed from stone to stone of the staircase.
"Malfoy, wake up!" Hermione said as she shook his shoulder.
At the warm feeling of her hand on his body, the man opened his eyes widely, attempting to close his mouth to stop his cries. After a few never ending seconds, he finally did, taking in deep breath threw his nose to calm himself, a gentle feminine hand rested against his too hot forehead.
"You're burning up," she muttered to herself more than to him. Taking out her wand, she said a quick spell to make the fever drop and, carefully, she ran a hand through his wet blonde hair.
Not able to form a coherent sentence yet, Draco looked at her, his eyes boring into her own. Her hair was sprayed everywhere around her face and she lacked her glasses. He was half-surprised and half-pleased to see her in a nightgown, a brown one of that, but it was still an improvement from the pajama bottoms and tank top.
"Time...?"
She took the pocket watch that was hanging from her neck and opened it. It read: '5 minutes until you fall back asleep'.
"Around 4 in the morning, I believe, I never could get used to those magic watches anyways. The muggle ones are much more convenient, really. I mean look at how..." she was about to start on a great debate about the comparison of wizard and muggle technology, but was cut off by an out of breath arch nemesis.
"You talk too much," he whispered, closing his eyes, the corners of his mouth up into a small smirk.
"I..." she started
"Everything okay in here?" Jude's head popped up from the half-opened door. His voice was slow and his words charged with a yawn. He had cleaned the dungeons all of yesterday, and without his wand too, he was exhausted, even if it was indeed Christmas.
Hermione's head shot up in the direction of the door.
"Everything is okay honey, go back to sleep," she said in a reassuring motherly tone.
Glad of being able to return to his bed, but still worried about his father, Jude unwillingly closed the door.
Looking back at Malfoy, she noticed he had gone back to sleep, his hand had moved to set itself around her own. She sighed and summoned a chair, where she sank in and proceeded to find sleep, which she did, quite quickly.
************************************************************************
When Draco Malfoy woke up that morning, he was quite surprised to feel... rested. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time. Decades, it seemed. Before his eyes were opened, he could feel something wasn't right, not wrong, but just different. He sat up in a graceful movement and found that he had been clinging onto Hermione's hand.
Her head was resting on the side of the bed – someone was in for a neck ache. She was sleeping peacefully. Careful not to wake her – he tried to convince himself he didn't feel like putting up with her this early in the morning – he slid his hand away and leveled himself out of his bed, starting towards the shower.
He stopped on the way, looking back at Hermione's sleeping form. Grudgingly and wondering why he was doing this, he returned to her and proceeded to set her in the bed, where she curled up instantly, mumbling something that could have sounded like a 'thank you'.
Showered and dressed, Malfoy entered what was called the Drawing Room, where the Christmas tree had been set. There is no word to actually describe the feeling that Draco felt as he found Harry Potter talking animatedly with his son, both sitting on the floor, over breakfast, among an enormous amount of presents.
"What the...?" was all he could utter at the sight. Even the traditional 'Happy Christmas' couldn't find its way on his lips as the last person he wanted to even see again was indeed in front of him, in his own house, to top it all off.
Jude's eyes lit up as he turned his face towards his father.
"Merry Christmas! Come join us, dad," Jude said, smiling.
Draco swallowed uneasily at the word 'dad'. A word he had never used in his life, he always would call his father 'Sir', 'Father' or even 'Lucius'. But not 'dad', never. He had never been called that before either.
"Potter," he acknowledged the other man.
"Malfoy," the raven-haired man responded.
A silence followed, through which Jude felt rather uneasy. Had he done something wrong inviting Harry over?
"Erm," the boy coughed, getting attention from both men, "Harry has always spent Christmas with us, you don't mind if I invited him, uh?" he asked.
Draco's glare bored into his son's as he shot him an 'I do mind and you are fully aware of it' look.
"You could have told be before though," he shot one more dagger at Harry.
"Sorry," he said, not feeling guilty at all, he was a kid after all, "Where is mum?"
"Sleeping"
"I'll go wake her up, then. Is she still in your bed?"
"Yes"
Harry started coughing the tea he had been drinking as it went down the wrong tube. His eyes went wide behind his glasses as he waited for Jude to close the door. He shot a death glare at his old enemy from school.
"What, in Merlin's name, is Hermione doing in your bed?" Harry's voice was shaking.
"I don't think that's any of your concern, Potter," he couldn't help but smirk at the Boy Who Lived. Oh, what sweet revenge this was.
"Just remember one thing, Malfoy, you don't deserve either of them," he said icily, his voice still sore from the tea he had swallowed wrongly.
Draco's cold glare was set upon him, his lids were slowly becoming mere slits. If there was something that Draco hated it was to be told something he knew and he didn't want to admit to himself. His expression went to stone and when he finally spoke in the silence that had settled itself between them, his voice was of no-reply.
"And maybe you do, Potter?" his breathing was slow and controlled, as was his tone. In front of him, Harry's face went red.
The door opened. A grumpy Hermione, still in her nightgown (and not caring about it for the world), black circles around her eyes, her hair standing in all places (what you call a really bad bed head) entered the room. She had her arm around her son's shoulders, who himself was looking quite pleased: his mum had spent the all night in Draco's room. That was a great Christmas gift.
"You look terrible," Draco greeted her as he took a biscuit from the tray of food lying on the floor in front of him.
"Why, thank you, Happy Christmas to you too"
He smirked, and so did she.
Maybe friendship was too much to ask for, and hate too uncivil to them, but complicity had installed itself swiftly, and maybe it was due to the fact that they had come to understand each other, in a way. Draco knew all of Hermione's weaknesses and used them against her, as did Hermione with his.
************************************************************************
The 'opening the presents' part had gone on pretty well, with Harry and Draco not even looking at each other, which spared a lot of more animosity. Jude had been quite pleased by his numerous presents, especially his new broom. He was currently outside, practicing on it, while Harry had rapidly eclipsed himself, saying he had some important Ministry business to attend to.
"Granger?" he knocked on the door once.
A very lady-like 'uh?' was the answer.
He opened the door and stepped inside, only to find Hermione sitting on her bed, eyes fixed upon her joint hands rested on her feet.
"Just came to ask you if you wanted to join..." he didn't finish his sentence as a sob interrupted him. He saw her bring her sleeve to her eyes, wiping the tears away. "Should I come back later?" he asked, a hand already on the door handle.
"Tell me, Malfoy," she started, her voice feeble and shaky, "do you ever get Christmas presents?"
He stopped dead in his tracks, thoughts rushing in his head. No, he didn't. He had expected that no one would notice, in the excitement of the bright Christmas wrappers. His eyes went glassy, as he could not remember the last time anybody ever gave him anything willingly.
Still deep in thoughts, he was startled to find two arms encircling his waist from behind, Hermione's body pressing against his back, her sobs engulfed in his cloak. He relaxed as he sank into the embrace, feeling particularly warm from where she was leaning on him.
Though, Draco went stiff as he realized who was hugging him and quickly dislodged her hands from his waist. Turning quickly around, he kept a grip on her left hand as he looked deep into her chocolate orbs, his face as expressionless as ever.
"I don't want your pity, Granger"
"It isn't pity, it's called understanding," she replied, her tone matching his own.
He glared sharply at her. "How can you, of all people, understand anything about me?"
She took a deep breath.
"Because we have the same history, whether you like it or not, Malfoy. We both have lived with our parents disapproving of who we truly were. A part of us was ignored by our friends in a way or another, your feelings and my feminine side. And, we were both set to marry someone we didn't love, which is what drove us into each other's arms that night during 7th year"
He was taken aback by her confession, his eyes widened slightly at what she had just said. He knew they were alike in personality, both a little outcasts, and stubborn, and always knowing the answer to everything, but...
"That we didn't love... Pansy. But, you, and Krum, it was your parent's..."
"Idea?" she ended his sentence, raising an eyebrow, "Oh yes, you cannot imagine how pleased they were with him. When I got pregnant, it was a dream coming true, I couldn't back away now that I was having his child, right? How wrong were they..." she ended quietly, almost whispering to herself the last part?
Draco didn't know what to say. There she was, the woman he was supposed to hate, but right now, he felt something that was far way from loathing. It was... pity? No, understanding, he corrected himself.
Not realizing what he was doing, he hitched his hand that was still holding her arm up to her shoulder and hugged her, his other hand resting on her waist band in the small of her back. She laced her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest, not clearly knowing what was happening either.
************************************************************************
A/N: another chappie done, yaii!!! Hope it wasn't too fluffy, I tried to make it progressive for both Hermione's and Draco's developing feelings. Don't worry next chappie will be more in character as it is normal for our emotions to play the yo-yo with us.
Anyhow, no special references in this chappie, at least I don't think so.
Hope you liked it!! And if you didn't, you can still review and tell me why!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!!