Chapter One

"See?" Draco pulled up a seat. "I knew I'd have to break the news to your in person. And not for the sake of picking your jaw up off the floor."

Hermione promptly closed her mouth and glared at her co-worker. "Malfoy, I'm in no mood for your malarkey. I have…" she refrained from motioning to her take-home work, "…things to do, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't barge in here with your Santa's-being-taken-over crap. I have a life."

Draco bit his tongue. "Evidently."

"Shut up. And—oh yeah. Leaving would be good," Hermione replied irritably.

Draco simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Figures. You don't believe me, do you?"

"Hm. Do I believe that little four-foot-tall elves are banding together to take down Santa Claus which could be especially harmful to the Wizarding world?" Hermione paused, resting a finger on her chin. "I don't know; let me think about that."

The blond rolled his eyes. "Muggle."

"What?"

"I said, you're such a Muggle. It's like a disease or brainwashing, I swear."

"You're just set on giving me endless reasons for not sparing your life the day I become close friends with dictator of the free world and badly need to dispose of annoyances as a birthday present," she muttered, picking up a mug of lukewarm coffee.

"I like a challenge," Draco replied, annoyed. "Here. You don't believe that we have this assignment, then you tell that to Lucas."

Hermione stared at the parchment her colleague had just dropped in front of her, the unfolded letter confirming all that Draco had told her down to a tee, adorned with the Ministry of Magic logo and Wendall Lucas' scribbled signature at the bottom.

"You can't be… I mean, Santa Claus isn't…" Her mouth dropped back open for the second time within a five-minute span.

"Real?" Draco nodded his head. "Do I get to say 'Muggle' again? Because I feel like I do. I don't know if that's just me or—"

"You're not serious. I—I mean that's not possible. There is no Santa Claus; everybody knows that. It's… been scientifically proven," she stood up, sounding weak and unsure of herself by the end of her thought. "Right?"

"Wrong, grasshopper," Draco corrected, leaning back in his seat. "Woman sees one troll and thinks she knows all there is to know. Look, sit down and stop your pacing. You're in for a treat." He wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm a great story-teller."

Furrowing her brows in irritation, Hermione grimaced at him but sat down nonetheless as she tried to stop her head from spinning off its axis like her world had just a moment ago.

"The reason that you're in such a shocked and nearly hyperventilating state right now, aside from being ignorant to something I just happened to know more about—although that really shouldn't surprise you anymore, considering my genius and all—" He managed a tiny smile at her death glare as he redirected where he was going with his thought. "—Right, but aside from that, you grew up in the Muggle world where Santa's kind of a joke. A myth, an old tale, something to tell the kids while the grownups go and get pissed, content knowing the tots are safe, tucked away, and asleep. Wouldn't it just tie all those knickers in a twist if they found out they were wrong and there is Santa Claus?"

He paused to revel in the chaotic and confused picture of people milling about aimlessly, as though their lives had lost their meaning simply because they'd been ignorant to the existence of Santa Claus. Much like Hermione was right now.

He looked to her to find her staring at him in disbelief and sheer amazement.

"I'll bet you're asking yourself how this could be possible," Draco speculated, continuing on at her silence. "It's simple, really. I can't believe no one has even told you yet. Honestly, Granger, I'm sort of shocked myself. So many years in the Wizarding world and you still think your parents put those gifts under the Christmas tree."

"Because they do," Hermione defended incredulously as she watched Draco shake his head in condescending acknowledgment. "Of course they do. I do it, too, for my baby cousins and nieces and nephews. What? You're telling me I'm crazy? That all the parents in the Muggle world are crazy? They all buy gifts for their kids but there's still a Santa Claus?"

The blond simply stared at her, listening to her rationale. At her stark raise of eyebrows meant to jolt him out of his stupor, he simply grinned again. "I can't even begin to understand where you come up with these notions that have such conviction behind them. We were definitely raised differently, I can tell you that."

"Malfoy," Hermione snapped, leaning forward to rest her elbows against the desk.

"St. Nick exists, Granger, and you all that knew that once upon a time. A long, long, long, long—" He paused to smile at her annoyance, "—very long time ago, but then the lot of you had to get all ominous-feeling , like you can't believe in anything that isn't right in front of your bloody nose to see. So a group of Muggles went up to the North Pole, found nothing, came back and told everyone and their grandmum that there isn't a Santa Claus." Draco sighed. "Got kind of contagious for a while there, too. Some Wizarding families started to question St. Nick's existence. That was such a load of bollocks, I'll tell you. Why you Muggles always have to spoil it for everyone, I don't know."

Hermione's eyes sparkled as she retained knew knowledge she had never known to be useful, let alone true. "But how don't people noticethat presents appear under their tree every year that they hadn't a thing to do with? I would think they'd be afraid, suspecting someone was in their houses…"

"That is precisely why Claus didn't let any of that poppycock happen," Draco scolded, shaking his head at Hermione. "He knew that had anything looked changed or moved in the house, the whole lot of you Muggles would stir about in your own muck, screaming burglary and whatnot, accusing people from the bloke on the street to the grandfather of breaking and entering." He rolled his eyes. "Bloody paranoid of you, if not arrogant, one might add."

"One might also shy away from the familiar topic of arrogance," Hermione suggested sweetly, before urging him to continue.

"So Claus just let you all believe what it is you wanted to believe. Or not believe, in this case. Not believing in him makes him… sort of phantom or invisible figure to the average Muggle. The adult will not see Santa Claus, nor have any recollection of him putting gifts under the tree. Instead, he'll remember what he believes would naturally happen—which, as I hear, is simply going to stores and buying gifts for the kids followed by putting them under the tree." Draco grimaced. "Not very magical and happy. You people just like to make yourselves live a torturous, unhappy life, don't you? Masochists."

"And… the people that do believe in Santa Claus?" Hermione asked cautiously, completely disregarding his side-comments and opinions.

"They see him," the blond answered simply, yawning as he looked at the time on his watch. "The little Muggle tots want to believe in Claus, so if they stay up late enough to see him coming down the chimney or though the heater shaft--which they rarely do—they'll see him and gawk and stare; all that rot. He'll, of course, do that ho-ho-ho number he's famous for. The Muggles really love that. Personally, I asked him the mechanics of his workshops and exactly to what scale he measures that whole naughty or nice thing when he makes the Christmas list the first time I saw him. But if all that commercialized greeting card crap is your ticket…"

Hermione's eyes widened. "You've seen him?"

He looked at her as though she was completely daft. "Honestly, Granger, either you've recently had a lobotomy or you've just been really good at faking retaining information from your classes all those years. You haven't listened to a thing I've said. I've seen him because I believe… because he is real." He looked at her like she was crazy. "Actually, last year I didn't visit the family and caught Claus when he stopped by my place. We had quite the discussion about foreign policy. You know, you'd be amazed at how much insider information that bloke gets just delivering gifts, eh?"

"So…" Hermione processed as she stood up and walked around the desk, licking her lips, "Santa Claus exists."

"Already established," Draco grinned, standing up as well and motioning with his hands to the door leading upstairs to the festivities. "You might want to tell your people we're going out for a while."

"What?" Hermione asked, still dazed.

"Lucas wants us at the Ministry before we take off north," Draco explained, waiting for Hermione to grab her jacket and slowly stick her head out the door to make up an excuse plausible enough for her out-of-town relatives.

With a loud clap, Draco was gone, and Hermione stuck her head back inside the den. Expelling a breath, she shook her head and hoped with all her might that at least the Easter Bunny and Big Foot were a myth.