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A Christmas Gift
Chapter 2: A World Without Draco
Disclaimer: I own jack.
Author: Dizzy

The sensation of floating lasted only for an instant, as if all gravity had been suspended, and for one second she felt glorious. Then she felt herself fall, smacking the ground hard knocking the wind out of herself. Her hand clenched to find purchase on what seemed to be a fairly unstable medium. Fingers moved through cold slush, and the burn of the cold on her cheek was enough to make her shoot up, confused. They hadn't moved. Looking around the familiar colored tiers of the Quidditch pitch sent a jolt to her system. It hadn't worked. But she had seen him disappear; she had watched him vanish. Her eyes searched him out, lying there in the snow, just as if he was taking a nap.

"Can't succeed at everything," she murmured. "Malfoy," she reached over to him, stretching a hand out. She couldn't just let him sleep in the snow. "Malfoy." She tried again, rocking him back and forth.

"Shur-up and go back to sleep," he groaned, and then she found herself on the ground again, his arm gripping her waist, his face in her hair. He murmured something she couldn't make out and they sank deeper into the snow. Obviously he wasn't aware that she wasn't one of his conquests and they weren't in his bed. Sighing, she pulled against his arm, but his grip was sure and he wasn't stirring. She could think of only one way to rouse him. She leaned over, her breath in his ear.

"LET ME GO." Draco's eyes popped open startled, his stomach jumping. He realized two things right off, the first was that he was buried in the hair of a female he despised, if her voice was any indication of her identity, and the second was that he was lying in the snow. He jerked upwards, finally releasing his grip on her and fell backwards into the snow on his hands. She sat up, regarding him calmly as he tried to sort out what happened.

Quidditch pitch. Granger with hot cocoa. Freezing temperatures. Passed out. He caught her eye, and the look in them was unmistakable. If you tell anyone I'll kill you it seemed to say. Hermione did nothing, she merely stood up, brushing the white powder from her robes. She was soaked through by now, the heat of thier bodies had melted a substantial amount of the snow and she was exhausted and frustrated. It was rare for Hermione Granger to fail at anything, especially not something she had deemed so simple. She grabbed her scarf, which had detatched itself from her neck and looked at him for a moment before looking around for the mug. What should have been lying only feet away was nowhere to be found and there were no indents in the snow to show that it had melted through. Odd. Shrugging Hermione turned towards the Great Hall. It had been a foolish idea anyway, imagine teaching a prat like Draco Malfoy a lesson about respect.

Draco picked himself up off the ground. Where was his Nimbus? His eyes widened in terror of the thought. Where was it? He dived to the ground, fingers clawing at the snow. It had to be here somewhere, he had no idea how long he'd been out and the snow had been falling continously for two days. He let out a grunt of frustration, his clawing becoming desperate as he searched. Hermione turned around. It seemed he had gone mad.

"What are you doing?"

"My Nimbus, where is it?" he continued to claw at the snow. Hermione looked around, but the sleek broom was nowhere that she could see. He was scrambling about as if he had lost a child or something, desperate and insane. She almost felt sorry for him. If the broom was missing permanently it was her fault it seemed. First the mug and now the broom.

"Where did you have it last?" Draco looked up at her as if she was an idiot.

"You know where I had it last. Right here," he returned to his ministrations, his eyes burning. He needed that broom.

"What did you do with it?" he turned on her, half kneeling in the snow, his gloves were covered in the stuff and obviously soaked through. Hermione was startled, he advanced on her and she backed away.

"I didn't do anything with it," she said and he grabbed her arm.

"What did you do with it," he repeated. He had gone crazy. That was the only explanation, he was absolutely stark raving mad. His eyes were glittering with desperation, his face twisted in rage. He was hurting her, fingers digging into her arm and she could feel them even through the thick robes, digging into her skin.

"I swear I didn't touch it," that was the truth at least. She hadn't touched the broom not with her hands anyway, but guilt nagged at the back of her mind like little pinpricks. She wasn't entirely sure if this was her fault or not. She had wanted to teach him a lesson, not fail at that endeavor completely and lose what seemed to be his prized possession. Any idiot who would fly in this weather must have some attachment to the stupid thing. He searched her eyes, they were guarded and unsure, but she wasn't lying to him. He released her jerkily, running a gloved hand through his hair. It wasn't its usual perfect sleeked back style, it was covered in little dots of white and sticking out in little peaks and horns around his head.

"I'm sorry," Hermione offered. "I'm sure once the snow melts a bit you'll find it." Draco said nothing; he merely looked to the ground confused.

"How long was I out?" Hermione shrugged. She didn't know, but it probably wasn't all that long. They had been relatively untouched by the falling snow which meant they couldn't have been there for more then a minute or so.

"I'm sure you'll find it." She shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't meant for this to happen, and her stomach twisted with the thought that she had done it. She wasn't a mean person, the spell was meant to help him, to show him how much of a prat he was and hopefully get him to change that a bit. She turned back to the Great Hall. He was a rich boy, she was sure Father Malfoy would buy him an even better broom then before, it wasn't exactly a great loss. She started towards the hall, clutching her bag to her person.

Why hadn't it worked? It had been such a simple spell, and she was certain she had done everything exactly right. Shaking her head she decided it was for the best. She had been having doubts before and now she wouldn't have to worry about the consequences, she was just a failure. It was better this way she decided. If the Gods had wanted her to suceed they would have let her, obviously Malfoy was meant to be a wanker. She made her way up the steps. She would simply pretend it hadn't happened. Malfoy would find his broom, or get another one whatever the case may be and life would return to normal. Pushing open the door she looked around, startled. The decorations were different, once mundane and oridinary they were now loud and everywhere. Music and conversation almost knocked her back off her feet. What had she missed? She reached for the door to the Great Hall, full expecting the usual smattering of left-over students enjoying a regular dinner. What she got was far different.

There were people everywhere, and food covered the tables till there was barely room to put your plate to eat. Oh my. She must have been out for longer then she thought. Two days at least it seemed. This was unmistakenably the Christmas feast. But where had all the people come from? Those first years who wanted to spend thier first Christmas here and the handful of older students who were left here for whatever reason was barely enough to make up one of the houses tables, yet the Hall was full. It seemed that everyone had returned for the feast, but that was ridiculous, why would they leave for a few days to return for one feast and just leave again? The feasts were extraordinary at Hogwarts but certainly not that grand, and this one was no memorable exception. Hermione had the feeling she had missed some very important. She recognized Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Grabbe and Goyle and various other Slytherins, laughing and throwing little gobs of food at each other goodnaturedly, typical Slytherin behavior, except for the fact that the food was directed at themselves, not the rest of the hall. Something very strange was going on. Not only were the Slytherins keeping their infantile behavior to themselves they were also joined by several members of other houses. In fact, from what she could see of the back of the tables every house was mixed up. People from Hufflepuff laughed with those from Ravenclaw, Griffyndors chatted with those from Slytherin. There was only one explanation she could reach for this. Hell had frozen over.

She had to find Harry and Ron. Perhaps they could explain this. They would probably be worried. The Christmas Feast was supposed to be two days away by her count, and it looked as though she had been gone for a lot longer then she expected. There was bound to be a question or two. She saw the familiar mop of red hair and the glasses of her friends but they were not at thier usual spot at the Gryffindor table, they were embroiled in a seemingly hilarious conversation with two Slytherins she didn't recall the names of, Ron making wild gestures with his hands as he told his story. She froze. Something very strange indeed was going on. She started again, unphased by this. If they could bear to sit with the likes of them then there was a perfectly reasonable reason for it. She froze again. There, sitting next to Harry, she saw someone she shouldn't be seeing, tossing her curly chestnut hair from her face and smiling broadly at Ron nodding her head in agreement to something he said. Hermione sat down on the ground, hard, her legs just not cooperating.

It wasn't possible. She stared at the floor bewildered. The spell had worked it seemed but not in the way she had planned. If anyone noticed her falling to the ground they didn't say anything, in fact not an eye had been on her since she entered the room. Which was odd, usually one of Draco's cronies would toss an insult in her direction or Ron and Harry would motion her over, or at least notice there was more then one of her, given the circumstances. But they wouldn't do that today. They didn't need her to join them, for it seemed they already had her. For there, sitting across from Ron was a carbon copy of herself, eyes sparkling with mirth at something he had said. She couldn't breath. She couldn't think.

"What are you sitting on the floor for?" Draco, having composed himself after deciding that writing his father for a new broom was a healthier alternative then digging in the snow, stood over her, eyebrows raised. Hermione said nothing, she merely stared at the floor trying to figure out what to do, trying to muddle through what she had done. Draco shrugged, turning around.
"Grabbe and Goyle are back, wonderful." And he made his way over to the table. They hadn't written him to say they were returning, but that was to be expected, he doubted they could write. As he made his way over Draco realized that something was very wrong. Obviously he had missed something, they made no move to acknowledge him as he made his way over, although he was certain they could see him, and they were actually talking. Not grunting in that usually unintelligent primate way of theirs, but actually discussing what seemed to be a very humorous story with everyone.

"What are you two doing back?" He stopped in front of them, glaring down at them with his typical look of disdain. But they ignored him as if he had said nothing at all, not even glancing in his direction as they went on with thier story, taking turns to tell the anecdote. "I said, what are you two doing back here?" Again, nothing. He clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.

"Listen to me!" He was two seconds away from stamping his feet and throwing something, much like a three year old Draco would have done when he didn't get his way. But there was no other alternative it seemed. They continued to pretend he didn't exist. Growling he leaned in, reaching between two students he didn't recognize, to grab the neck of Crabbe. His hand passed right through. He could see his clenched fingers out the back of the boy's neck, grasping at nothing. Startled he fell, sprawling over the table, landing in various plates of different food.

"What the hell?" He pushed himself back, his fingers digging into mashed potatoes, and while they covered his fingers in thier starchy clumps they looked untouched on the plate his hand was splayed across. He pushed himself up, his stomach queasy. Something very wrong was happening.

"What happened to you?" Hermione took in his appearance, gravy dripping to the floor, covered in a palette of holiday goods in varying colors and textures. His appearance made her forget what she had wanted to say. He eyed her daring her to laugh. Then he realized that she was talking to him.

"You can hear me and see me right?" She looked at him confused. She had started to put the pieces of the puzzle together moments before. It didn't make much sense but here it was. She nodded.

"Yeah. I can." He reached out, touching her arm gently. It didn't go through, it merely pushed her shoulder back a bit.

"What's going on?" He murmured to himself. He looked up at her. Hermione shifted, her potion had worked it seemed, but the effect was not what she imagined.

"They can't see you or hear you," Hermione's voice was soft, a bit nervous. "Because you don't exist here."

"That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said to me," Draco turned away. "Been sampling the egg-nog Granger?" Hermione shook her head.

"I'm telling the truth," she reached out, fully intending to flick Pansy Parkinson in the head, but like his hand before she went straight through, her fingers curling on the other side. Pansy didn't even react, she just continued to cling to Goyle's arm, barely touching her food. "It's a spell." Then she added quickly. "I think." No use in being killed over this. It would do niether of them any good. Without her he was stuck here, and without life she wasn't much of anything.

"Someone doesn't want me to exist?" Hermione shrugged, eyeing herself over the hall. Draco didn't appear to have a clone anywhere she could see. "Could be anyone." She murmured. He glared at her. Indignant she motioned around the hall.

"You're the only one not here," to prove her point she pointed to herself, his eyes followed, taking the sight of double Hermione in.

"Then what are you doing here?" Hermione shrugged again, avoiding his eyes, feigning interest in her surroundings. It was better to lie she decided, the truth would certainly not set them free in this instance. It was liable to get one of them, namely her, killed. "Well what makes you think I'm not here then?" Hermione shifted.

"I don't see you anywhere." She motioned around the hall. "But everyone else is here. Common sense Malfoy."

"Maybe I'm off doing something else," he scanned the room, desperately trying to find...himself it seemed. And not in the philosophical way either. It was possibly the oddest conversation she'd ever engaged in. Draco crossed the room, plopping himself onto an empty bench. She followed him, wordlessly sitting down. Trying to look as surprised and confused as he. She had never been an actress but desperate times...

"I don't think you're here Draco," Hermione said softly after his eyes continued to desperately search the hall.
"Who did this?" he turned to her. She shrugged once more, she figured she'd be doing it a whole lot.

"I've read about this sort of thing..." she trailed off.

"And?"

"And I think it's a "Would-Be"," he snorted.

"I don't think Doctor Suess counts as research in this respect Granger. Try to think of something useful." She glared at him, a bit surprised at his knowledge of a Muggle author. She was also grateful that he hadn't realized that while she was brilliant, she wasn't brilliant enough to know something like this in an instant.

The first few seconds after her explanation left her mouth she had expected death. But Draco was accepting it as fact. It seemed that his own conceit was her ally in this instance. He was so convinced of his importance that the fact that she had noticed within in seconds that he was missing didn't seem suspicious to him.

"Fine, if you don't want to know, don't ask." And she stood up, fully intent on leaving him there to muddle out his own demise, even if it had been her fault. But his gentle hand on her arm stopped her, and the rough pull backwards had her sitting again.

"Go ahead." He motioned. "Dazzle me." She took a breath.

"I read about them a few years back," she motioned around. "A Would-Be is like an alternate universe, for lack of a better, more intellectual term."

"And we accidentally took a wrong turn in the warddrobe and found ourselves in one?" Sarcasm, just what she wanted to hear, though his knowledge of muggle children's literature was rather impressive as he went on.

"I'm being serious," she snapped at him. She didn't want to be here anymore. The result was not what she wanted at all. The result was lonely. Draco busied himself by wiping bits of food off his robes.

"Continue then." He motioned for her to go on.

"It's a place where an element is either taken out of or added to a situation."

"And you think I was taken out?"

"No, I'm sure you were." She pointed to the Slytherin table. "Don't you think you'd there if you weren't?" He shrugged.

"I don't always show up to dinner Granger. Sometimes I have more pressing things to do." She snorted.

"Oh yeah. You're just a social butterfly Malfoy." He glared at her, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe gravy off his robe.

"Alright, from what I remember it's an easy spell to do. I mean anyone could have done it."

"But why?" He looked a little scared for a moment. "Is this permament?" She shook her head, actually offering him a reassuring smile.

"No. It's just a demonstration." She shrugged. She couldn't offer him too much information or he'd get suspicious. She doubted his ego had the ability to stretch that far. She had given away to much information as it was. It was kind of flattering that he just assumed that she knew what she was talking about, right off the top of her head. "I'll have to read more to know exactly what's going on." She was being evasive she knew, but if he noticed he didn't let on. "I'm kind of impressed I knew this much."

Draco looked at the table. "Fools." He muttered. Crabbe and Goyle were telling yet another story, the adoring eyes of Pansy and Millicent never straying. "Figures though."

"What?" Hermione followed his eyes.

"Pansy and Millicent would fall all over them if I wasn't there."

"Well can you blame them? Not like they have much to work with." He looked at her.

"Was that a compliment Granger?" She snorted.

"Hardly. It's only natural that they'd go for them." She motioned to the table. "Next to you they're the richest boys in the school practically." She blinked in surprise. "You certainly keep a muzzle on them though. I don't think I've ever seen them that animated." He glared at her.

"If you're implying what I think you're implying."

"It's hardly an implication if the evidence is right in front of you," she shrugged. "Just because you're abusive doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"I'm not abusive." She shrugged.

"Well look how much better Crabbe and Goyle get on without you." It had been a cruel thing to say she knew, and for a brief instant she thought she saw a flash of hurt on his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He shrugged, nonchalant.

"This has nothing to do with me." Although he could see the change instantly. No longer were they the quiet demure little pets of Draco Malfoy, the were animated and talkative, actually laughing without his influence for once. And they were skinnier.

"I know THAT has nothing to do with me." He murmured.

"What?"

"They're not as bulbous." She stared at him.

"Has it ever occured to you that maybe they feed thier faces because you won't let them do anything else with thier mouths?" He glared at her, saying nothing.

"Come on little miss psychoanalyst," he grabbed her arm. Yet another Muggle thing Draco was informed about. Would wonders never cease? She didn't have a lot of time to be surprised at his knowledge, as he was pulling on her arm.

"What? Where are we going?" He yanked her towards the door.

"The library. You're going to figure this out."

"Me? Why me?"

"You're here for a reason aren't you? I'm sure that's it, you're not good for much else." She narrowed her eyes, yanking her arm from his grasp and whirled.

"Where are you going?" He turned on his heel. "We have work to do."

"No, YOU have work to do. I'm not your slave," she stormed across the hall. "I'm getting something to eat."

"But you have to help me." He continued to follow her as she marched herself up to the head of one of the tables and grabbed a plate. Surprsingly it worked, the plate rose up without protest, but it was still there on the table. Quite the bizarre paradox. She looked at it in amazement. There it was in her hand, and an exact copy of it on the table, like it had never moved at all.

"Amazing," she murmured. Draco too stared at the plate in her hand.

"We don't exist at all here do we?" He said after a moment. The thought was a bit scary. "It's not like just being a ghost or being invisible." He went on. "We affect nothing." She nodded. Forget a "bit" scary, this was more then that. She reached for a few things, spooning them onto her plate. Draco followed suit, and together they managed to get a sizable meal, all without moving a thing it seemed and disturbing no one. Still it was uncomfortable sitting near her friends and eating, hearing thier conversations, hearing her own voice without being the one who spoke the words, and not being able to respond. So she went back to where they had been sitting earlier. Draco followed without question. They were both a little spooked, and they were the only alternative to loneliness. So they ate in companionable silence, his sparked by confusion, hers by guilt.

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