"He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" Hermione Granger shut the large picture book and laid it in her lap. She looked around the small group of children situated around her chair in a semi-circle and smiled. "That my sweet little ones is one of the most popular muggle Christmas stories." A small red-haired little girl raised her hand shyly. "Yes Clara?"
"How does he really get down the chimney?" She asked, her eyes wide with wonder. "I mean, one time my mum hexed my father out of the house and he tried to go down the chimney, but she just flooed him away. Wouldn't that happen to Santa Cause?"
"Santa Claus." She corrected gently. "And no, Santa had his own special magic that lets him do all the things he does. Now, let me tell all of you about a special little reindeer called Rudolf."
It was Christmas Eve, and the large general room of the children's ward of St. Mungo's hospital was decorated from top to bottom with festive decorations. Hermione had been there since graduating from Hogwarts a few years back. She had been offered many positions, and researched all of them before her heart made the decision for her. She had been offered the position of head mediwitch at the hospital, being able to work with the top witches in the field working together to find cures for the most incurable of curses.
As she toured the different wards, the hospital director had shied away from the sixth floor. She told Hermione she didn't want to see the poor patients doomed to live their lives there. Hermione was adamant. If she was going to work for the hospital, she wanted to know every square inch. The doors were unlocked, and she was granted access. The site inside broke her heart. It was full of children. Poor little witches and wizards, sitting there, staring into space. No one played, no one spoke. Hermione stepped inside, and never found it in her heart to leave.
The children of floor six rarely responded to the new potions and charms that came in almost daily. Hermione found out very quickly, that the best medicine of all was a little tender loving care. A little attention, and even the most cursed could fathom a smile. She rarely left, even with the prodding of her co-workers. This was her work, this was her life. With a little help and some charmed supplies, the children had decorated the room every year for the holidays, and every year Hermione told them the same stories she had heard year after year as a child. Every pair of eyes in the room was focused on her, listening intently, drinking in every word she spoke.
At least almost everyone was enjoying her stories. A pair of slanted gray eyes stared at her from the back of the room. A lone person dressed in black instead of the standard red and green. He wore no Santa hat, no jingling bells. Just a frown as he sipped some sickingly sweet hot chocolate. Draco Malfoy was by no means enjoying himself.
He had a fortune. His father had made sure of that. But Draco knew, no matter how much money he had, it wouldn't last forever. He had to invest it in something. Something that would profit him in the long run, even if he had to spend a little every now and then to make sure of it. Even with the Dark Lord gone, people still got sick, and curses were still abundant. So Draco did what he thought was best. He purchased St. Mungo's. Although it had set him back quite a few galleons, the incoming profits from the new potions that were being discovered every day, he had more than doubled his investment in the first year.
Double would have been plenty for most people, but he was a Malfoy and as usual, he wanted more. That was the sole reason he had not requested, but demanded that St. Mungo's employ the best, and only the best. That was why he sent the director after Hermione Granger. He didn't like her, he never had, but even he couldn't deny she was smart. An asset. He watched her reading utter nonsense to the little brats, filling their already useless mind with stupid muggle stories. He sighed, tossing the paper cup into the closest trashcan. At least she was easy on the eyes, well when she had that bushy mane pulled back anyways.
He checked the large clock on the wall, willing it to move faster. Shouldn't kids be in bed by seven? He wanted to speak with Hermione, get the progress on the newest potion they were concocting. She wasted her time with the children when she should be dedicating her time to more impervious matters. Fortunately for him, the children were sometimes afflicted with the same curses and diseases that the rich paid good money to receive cures for.
Draco was pulled back to the present as a small little boy, no more than five, started tugging on the edge of his sweater. "Sir, sir." He called up trying his best to gain the adults attention. Draco looked down, and cocked an eyebrow in question. "Are you Santa Claus?" He asked. His chocolate eyes were wide with wonder and apparent fascination. "Misses Hermione said that you always came on Christmas Eve. Did you come to bring us presents?"
Draco started to correct the child. Inform him that no matter what state his mind was in, he was still a wizard and should know better than to believe anything a Mudblood tried to tell him. Somehow though he couldn't, and it must have been all the sugar in that damn chocolate shit Granger insisted on serving. He bent down to the child's level and spoke very low. "I'm afraid that I'm not Santa, and I didn't bring any gifts, but if you go on to bed, and you get your little friends to go with you, I promise that there will be new toys here in the morning when you wake up."
The little boy's impossibly wide eyes grew a fraction of an inch wider as he backed away from Draco slowly. He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a giggle, then he turned and raced to the middle of the room. Draco groaned, knowing what was coming before it ever happened. "Hurry, hurry, Santa said for us to go to bed so he can bring us toys!"
Hermione stopped her story, looking at the boy. "Devon, honey, who told you that?" She had a closet full of toys to distribute to the children after they were all asleep, ready to play Santa herself. She looked around, wondering which child had snuck out of her sight and found them. Devon turned away, a smile stretching across his face.
"Santa!" He said pointing across the room. "He must have shaved and his mum must have took the chocolate from him, but he's got the white hair just like you said."
Hermione felt her eyebrows draw together as she followed the pointed finger to see Draco Malfoy still crouched near the ground. "Uh, I think it's time for everyone to get to their beds. If Santa does come tonight, he won't stop if you little ones are awake to see him. Come on now, let's go." She clapped her hands together as she climbed to her feet. She started herding the children in the right direction, which was right past Draco. "You've got some explaining to do, Santa." She hissed as she pushed past him. Draco's retort died in his mouth as Devon smiled and waved at him from Hermione's arms.
It didn't take Hermione and one of the other mediwitches long to nestle the children all snug in their beds, and Draco spent the next few minutes discussing the upcoming Quidditch World cup with a recently employed healer. "Excuse us please." Hermione said coming back into the large room, grabbing Draco roughly by the arm and pulling him away from the other mingling witches and wizards. "What on earth are you trying to do, spoil Christmas for the kids?" She whispered, her voice quiet but still seething with anger.
Draco yanked his arm away from her sneering. "I didn't say anything to the little prat, thank you very much." He made a show of brushing off his sweater where she had touched him. "And what good are you doing feeding them such muggle rubbish?"
"For your information, Malfoy, if you knew anything about the patients at your own hospital, you would know that more than half these children come from muggle families. People like your father made sure to use the more dangerous curses on them just because of that fact." She poked him in the chest as she spoke of Lucius, causing Draco's eyes to narrow more.
"So why are you here telling them about fictitious fat men and flying reindeers instead of devoting your very well paid time finding cures for them?" He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. "Why don't you run on to the lab and get some real work done?"
"No."
"No?"
"You heard me correctly. I said no. It's Christmas Eve, and technically, I was off duty three hours ago."
"I don't know who you think you are, but nobody, and I mean nobody tells me no." His eyes flared, daring her to repeat it.
Hermione sighed heavily, rubbing her temples in a circular motion. "You know, Draco, I'm not doing this with you tonight. I don't have the patience or the time." She turned and began walking away from him, but stopped and looked up as a large black owl swooped into the room from the hallway.
A young man came running in after it at top speed. He skidded to a stop as the owl hovered in mid air in front of Hermione. He looked from the owl to her to Draco standing behind them. "I'm sorry sir." He blurted out. "He came into the owlry up top and I tried to take the letter from him, but he just pushed past me."
Hermione ignored the boy; instead she reached out and untied the letter from the owl's leg. "This is Tonks' owl." She muttered aloud. The owl hooted once at her, before turning in air and flying back out of the room. Hermione lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled the small sheet of paper out. She began reading the neat writing, not noticing that she spoke the words aloud as she did.
"Hermione- I didn't know how else to get a hold of you. Your mother tried your cell phone, seems she forgot that muggle electronics don't work in magical places. Now, please, Hermione, don't panic. There's been an accident. Your mother and father were at their office party this evening, and when they left their car was struck by another vehicle. I'm so sorry to tell you this, but you need to come to…"
She trailed off, her hands shaking, and tears spilling out onto her cheeks. She dropped the paper to the ground and ran out of the room. It took only seconds for the people in the room to start the gossip. Draco watched her go, then bent down and picked up the paper. "-the hospital as soon as you can. Your mother is stable, but they don't think your father is going to make it." It was signed Ted. Although he would never admit it, Ted Tonks was his uncle by marriage, and a muggle uncle at that. His Aunt Andromeda had never been too bright.
He walked calmly out of the room, down the hall, and then around the corner. Ever since his father had been committed to Azkaban, he had been plagued by his own damn conscious. When out of sight of the others, he broke into a run.
"Wait!" He called as he used his shoulder to push open the door leading to the room. Hermione looked back startled. Not by the fact that someone was calling out to her to stop, but from the person who was doing it. "I've seen you fly." He said, his hand on his knees, his breath slowly returning to normal. He straightened up and took the brook from her. "Look at yourself." He said softly. Hermione could barely release the broom handle. Her knuckles were white, her cheeks and nose already red.
"You can't make me stay here." She sobbed, trying to yank the broom back.
"I had no intentions of doing so." He snapped. He pulled the broom from her and tossed it to the floor. He waved his wand at a silver cabinet on the wall, and when the door fell open, he reached in and pulled the expensive state of the art broom and positioned it between his legs. "You're in no condition to fly. I'd suggest you floo or apparate, but who knows where you'd end up or in how many pieces. I'll take you myself."
Hermione hesitated a moment, before climbing on the back of the broom. She grasped the shoulders of his sweater for security. "Take me to the-"
"I know where to go." He cut her off, kicking with his foot and leading the broom into the sky. Hermione felt the rush of air hit her face, and instinctively let go of his sweater and wrapped her arms around his waist. She hated to fly. It was no secret to anyone who knew her. Draco was right when he said she shouldn't try to get there by any other magical means, and flying was faster than anything else… She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his back. Draco could maneuver a broom as well as Harry or anyone else. Still, she knew the trembles coursing through her body weren't from the cold, but from fear; fear that her parents might not be alive when she reached them, and fear that she would fall to her own death first.
In what seemed like forever in her heart, but registered as only a few mere minutes in her mind, Draco set them down without so much as a skid on the roof of the hospital. Hermione jumped off the broom, and never once looked back as she yanked open the stairway door and raced down to the emergency room. "My parents, where are they?" She asked the night nurse on duty, her face flushed and her hair wilder than usual from the wind.
"Names?" The nurse asked dryly, clicking keys on the keyboard in front of her.
"Hermione."
She spun at the sound of her name, looking for the source. "Mr. Tonks." She said, crossing the room to him. "Where are they, how are they?" She blurted out, searching his face for any sign that she was too late.
"Easy, calm down." He said pulling her into a hug. He led her away from the other people waiting. Hermione recognized a few as colleagues of her parents; the others were frantic with their own grief, waiting for information on their own friends or relatives. "You mother is okay. They've already moved her to a room upstairs. She has a broken arm and a concussion, but other than that she'll be fine."
"What about daddy?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. Ted's not had said they didn't think that he would make it. She prayed that she wasn't to late. She let him lead her into a smaller dark room, the sign above the door read ICU waiting room.
Ted took a deep breath, lowering them both down onto the couch. He took one of her hands in his before he spoke. "Your parents car was hit on the driver side, your father's. He took the brunt of the impact." He looked away from the Granger's only child, gathering the strength to tell her the worst. There was no way to sugar coat the truth, not at a time like this, "Your father's skull has been cracked and shards of the bone have embedded in his brain." He stopped, expecting the young woman to break down, but she merely nodded, as if expecting more. "Hermione, are you alright?" He asked concerned.
"Can I see him?" She asked slowly. A thousand thoughts were flying through her mind. The one that was most dominant was that she could help him, she could use her magic to remove the bone, she could save her father. Damn the magical laws about using it in front of muggles. Let them lock her up; she didn't care, as long as her father lived.
Ted shook his head regretfully. "Not right now. They're prepping him for surgery."
Hermione stood up, "They can't do that. What if something goes wrong? He could die in there. They have to let me see him, I might be able to help." Ted jumped to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her.
"There is nothing you could do for him right now Hermione, you have to be patient. All we can do now is wait." He tried to explain the logic to her, but he knew nothing he said would make a difference. He could only fathom what she was feeling. "You are more than capable of dealing with the problems at St. Mungo's, but this is best left to the doctors. They're specialists, they are what's best for him right now. All we can do now is wait."
Hermione knew he was right. She felt the fight drain out of her as quickly as it had came. She dropped back on the couch, and felt the tears fall. She leaned over and buried her face on the arm of the couch. "I'll, um, I'll go get you some coffee or something." Ted stammered, not knowing what to do.
Hermione let the sobs consume her. Her shoulders shook and her chest heaved as she tried to gulp them back, but still they came. A shadow fell over her, blocking what dim light the overhead cast, and the couch dipped slightly beside her as they sat beside her. A hand started lightly rubbing her back, then her shoulders, then her hair. Hermione leaned into the rub, allowing Ted to hold her as she cried. He didn't try to silence her, didn't try to feed her false hope, he just held her.
She didn't know how long she cried, but it soon slowed, and she was able to regain her thoughts. "I'm sorry." She whispered, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, lifting off of him. "I-" She stopped short as she looked up. She cleared her throat, stunned. "I apologize Draco, I thought you were someone else." Her cheeks were already bright red from crying, but she could still feel the blush creeping up her neck and spreading across her face.
Draco started to reply, but didn't get a chance. Ted came back into the room, coffee-less, and beckoned Hermione. "Your mother wants to see you." Hermione followed him out of the room, hesitating at the door. She turned slightly, looking at the floor in front of Draco. "Thank you." She mumbled, then followed Ted towards the elevator.
A few hours later, Hermione was standing in the middle of her parent's living room floor. She dropped the keys on the coffee table with a heavy sigh and flicked on the light. She hadn't wanted to leave the hospital. Her father had yet to come out of surgery, but her mother had insisted. She had been up over twenty-four hours as it was, and her mother had told her to come home and rest a while. She promised to contact her as soon as she knew anything on her father, and when she did, Hermione could return and bring some things she needed from the house. She sat down and leaned back in the recliner, promising herself that she would only sit there for a moment before heading upstairs.
Later as a knock at the door pulled her from her sleep, she was surprised to find sunlight streaming in through the windows. She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head as she did, then felt the yawn catch as she remembered where she was and why. The memory of her parents accident came rushing back to her, and that was torture enough, but the other memory that flooded her mind caused her to bury her face in her hands and mumbled, "Oh, no." She flung the blanket off of her legs and jumped to her feet.
Wait a minute, blanket? She looked down at the floor; sure enough it was the blanket that her mother usually kept draped over the back of the couch. Surely she hadn't woken up, retrieved the blanket then settled back down in the chair. She bent over, picked up the blanket and turned towards the couch. "Merlin!" She exclaimed, her hand coming to her heart as she stopped. "How did you get in here?" She asked accusingly.
Draco shrugged. "It's not that hard when you leave the door unlocked. I knocked twice but you didn't answer." He shrugged. "You should be more careful, you never know what might come in."
"What could be worse than a Malfoy?" She snapped. Then she remembered what he had done for her last night. She hadn't asked anything of him, yet he had brought her to the hospital, he had held her while she cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just been a bad night." She tossed the blanket on the couch beside him and picked the keys up off the table. "You'll have to leave now, I've got to get over to St. Mungo's. Hopefully nobody's woke up yet."
"It's Christmas, Hermione, you have the day off."
She picked her coat up from where she had dropped it and slid her arms into the openings. "I know that, but I told the children Santa was coming. If they wake up and find nothing, it will ruin the whole story for them."
Draco walked over to her, hands in his pockets. "You're afraid that they won't believe in something fake?" He shook his head and wondered around the living room, picking up small Christmas knickknacks, looking them over, then setting them back down. He finally stopped in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, waiting for her reply. "Isn't that a little, well, mean?"
"No, it's not." She countered, walking up to him, waiting for him to move out of her way so she could go through into the den, and the waiting fireplace. "Please move I need to get to the floo powder."
Draco didn't move. "No need, I've taken care of it for you."
"What?" Had she heard right? Draco had taken care of it? Surely he hadn't told the children that Santa was just a fable.
"All the little brats will awaken to the many wonderful joys of Christmas." He said dryly, rolling his eyes. "I even had a house elf drink some of the milk, which I might say was only minutes from curdling, but the cookies were delicious. Do you honestly know how hard it is to creep through a room and not awaken a sleeping child? And you muggles try to say that a fat man does it. Please. But, yes, Santa did visit, and each child will have a few toys."
A few toys? "Oh dear." Hermione said, "You must have missed a wing, I could only afford to buy each child one toy. Did you get the hall off of the kitchen?"
Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "I got them all. Don't worry about it."
I should be grateful. I should be really grateful. He didn't have to do it; Merlin knows he probably didn't want to do it, but then… "Why? Why would you do that? I mean you hate muggles, and people like me that come from muggle families. Why on earth would you want to help me?"
"What makes you think I did it for you?" Draco came back at her.
"I, uh, well, what I meant was, the phone." She turned away from Draco, praising whoever was calling, the ringing saving her from even more embarrassment. "Hello?" She said placing the receiver to her ear.
"Hermione?" She knew who it was, even though their voice wasn't steady. Her mother sounded like she had a cold. Hermione knew it wasn't that, her mother's voice was strained from crying.
"It's daddy isn't it?" She blurted out, "What happened?" There was only one reason her mother would cry, right?
"Oh, sweetie, the doctor's just came in. The surgery went fine. They expect him to have a few problems and it's going to take him a long time to recover, but honey, they think that he's going to pull out of this."
Hermione shut her eyes, her fingers white from clutching the phone. She whispered a silent thank you to whoever had answered her prayers. "I'll be right there."
Her mother sniffed. "There's no need for you to come now. The doctor's are taking me for x-rays and some other tests right now, and we won't be able to see your father for a few more hours at least. You go ahead and take a shower, get cleaned up, and get yourself something to eat. I'll call you as soon as we can get into see him. I love you sweetheart." Her mother told her, and then added, as if an afterthought, "Merry Christmas."
"You too, mum." She placed the receiver back in the cradle. She sighed heavily, a sense of relief washing over her. She had to place her hands against the table to steady herself, sure she would collapse from the weight lifted from her shoulders.
"So," Draco started, "Exactly how long as I supposed to stand under this poisonous plant before the fair maiden bestows upon me her kiss of gratitude?" Hermione looked over at him. Her mother had hung a sprig of mistletoe in the doorway. When her eyes dropped from the plant to Draco, she found him staring at her intently. She swallowed.
"You think I would do that because of what you did for me?" She asked, taken aback, and to be honest, more than a little afraid.
"No." He said simply, without hesitation. "When you do give it to me, it will be because you want to." He walked over to her, encircling her, watching her. He stopped beside her, his lips only inches from her ear. "And believe me, you will want to."
Hermione couldn't reply. The muscles in her body refused to cooperate with her mind. She stood there helpless as he walked away from her, turning the lock on the door before shutting it behind him. It took her a moment to realize that she hadn't really wanted him to go.
"What in the hell are you doing Malfoy?" He asked himself, staring at his reflection in the library room's freshly varnished desk. He hadn't meant to toy with Granger like that. Oh it was fun watching her squirm, he couldn't deny that. But why on earth was he trying to make her think that he wanted her? He slammed his fist down on his reflection, ignoring the sharp pain jarring through his arm. Why in the hell had he done that, and why in Merlin's name did he plan on continuing until she was his?
Draco left her alone. Hermione returned to work the day after Christmas, satisfied that her father was being well taken care of. She checked on him constantly, sneaking outside every break she got to get a signal on her cell to call the hospital. Draco didn't show his face at all, or if he did, he made sure that it was while she wasn't there. The fact that someone was ignoring her wasn't the problem. The fact that it was Draco Malfoy and it bothered her was. A week later she had made up her mind that when her shift was over she was going to hunt him down and clear the air. Just what air there was to clear, well she hadn't figured that out yet.
She was in the staff room hanging up her work robes when the owl boy came in after a quick knock. He set a vase of roses on the lunch table and turned to leave the room. She raised her eyebrows questionably, shutting her locker and walking over to the flowers. It was one of her co-workers birthday in a few days. Hermione smelled a blossom, then turned the envelope around so she could read who the card was too. She blinked, to clear her vision, but afterwards it still had her name written on the cover. She slid the card from the envelope, and read the neatly inscribed words.
"I have lost myself, I am not here, this is not Draco, he's some other where." Hermione read the short phase aloud. It sounded familiar, and after thinking a second she remembered. Draco Malfoy was quoting Shakespeare to her, and what was it supposed to mean to her?" She tucked the paper back in the envelope, and couldn't help but smile. The flowers were beautiful. She left them sitting on the table, and headed towards Draco's office for when he was at the hospital. The door was closed, but a faint light shone though the small window atop of it. She knocked lightly and waited.
She didn't have to wait long. She heard a muffled response, and the door slowly opened. She stepped inside expecting him to be seated at the desk, but the room appeared to be empty. She started to back out, but the door was slowly closing behind her. "I knew you would come." He stood there behind her with his hand on the doorknob, blocking her only way of escape.
"How could you have known, I didn't know myself I was coming until I got your flowers. They are beautiful, thank you, but why did you send them?"
"Because I wanted to." He stated. That was his answer. Most people would have given more, a more legitimate reason, but somehow Hermione knew that Draco did what he wanted for that reason alone. Because he wanted to, and because he could. "Is that the only reason you came here this evening, alone, to ask me that?" Hermione's heart skipped a beat as he spoke, his mouth drawing out the syllables in alone. "You didn't come here to talk business, to discuss your progress on the new potions. You came here because of flowers." It was no longer a question, merely a statement.
Hermione swallowed; there was no reason to lie. "I suppose it is." She crossed the room, the weight of his stare heavier than she anticipated. "And I wanted to thank you for what you did for me that night with my parents."
"A note would have sufficed." Draco sat back down in the desk chair and began marking on some official looking document.
"The children were ecstatic Christmas morning, you really out did yourself."
"I did no such thing." He flipped to another sheet. Hermione knew he had a point. He had enough money that he could have done a ton more, but the fact that he did anything, well, that showed that he was no longer the Draco Malfoy that she grew up with.
"So that's what it meant." She whispered to herself, the words he had printed on the card coming back to her. He knew that he was changing, and it seemed like he wasn't too happy or open to the point. When she looked back up, she found him watching her again. "Please don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
"Stare at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and had an uneasy feeling that Draco was undressing her with his eyes.
"If you get uncomfortable with me just looking at you, imagine what I could do if I touched you." He set the pen down and clasped his hands together in front of him on the desk. "Shall we try it and see what happens?"
"You know you could get arrested for this in the muggle world. They call it sexual harassment."
"Hermione, in case you haven't noticed, we are not in the muggle world." He rose from the desk and crossed the room to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on either side of her, not pinning her to the wall, but giving the illusion she was trapped. "You've made the first step, you came to me. Remember that." He bent his head down, and before either one of them knew what was happening, his lips were on hers.
He's kissing me. He's actually kissing me. I'm kissing him back, and Merlin help me, I'm liking it. Hermione's hands were on his back, pressing herself against him harder. One of his hands was in the small of her back, as if to keep her there, but he needn't hold her, she wasn't leaving. Not now. He laced his fingers through her hair, pulling her lips from his. His mouth moved down her neck hungrily, he seemed to be wanting as much as she was needing. His fingers were at the buttons of her blouse fumbling. Draco, fumbling? Hermione reached up and pushed his hands away, not to stop him, but to release them faster. Her blouse fell to the floor, and as soon as she pulled his over his head, so did his.
It was wrong, they both knew it, but neither had the will to stop. His mouth was back on hers, searching, tasting, hungry for anything she had to give. The papers on the desk were flung to the floor. She lay back on it, Draco's weight on top of her. She clung to him, melting her body into his, losing all control, and above all, losing herself. Then, as his mouth exploring hers, she knew. It was different now; they could never go back to the way it had been before. He said she had come to him first, but he was wrong. He had come to her.
Draco pushed himself up from her body, looking down at her, but she didn't look back. Her eyes were closed as she slowly returned her breathing to normal. He had just done something he'd swore he's never in his lifetime do. He had been with a Mudblood. He had made her call his name. Not to hurt her, not to torment her, not to have something to hold over her head until she died, but because he wanted to. He had wanted Granger as much as she had wanted him. As he pulled away from her and handed her her clothes, for the first time in his life he didn't know what to say.
He could simply ignore her; pretend that it had never happened he knew she wouldn't tell. For her friends to find out what had happened would be more shameful to her than to him. He didn't know where they would go for here. He had never tried to have a relationship with anyone, and he didn't know if he was ready. She looked at him for a moment before reaching for the doorknob, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what she wanted to hear. Years from then, as she would never let him forget, it was Draco that had called after her. "Hermione."
She turned slowly, unsure of what was to come. She would have expected anything. He could have called her a whore, fired her, laughed at her. Anything like that and she would have been ready. When he only said, "wait," she was caught off guard. He was right though, you never could tell a Malfoy no.
The End
A/N:Written for BobotuberPus for the Quiet Ones Secret Santa fic exchange.