1271 words this time around. W00t. I don't know quite how long this fiction is going to shape up to be. At the moment I have ten chapters sort of planned, but no clear ending. It could be less, it could be more. Thanks to all the reviewers, especially prin69, who spotted a mistake, and CharmedLeoLvr, and CareBareErin, who have each reviewed several times.

Hermione Granger arrived at her flat just after one on Christmas morning. The Ministry Ball had run slightly late, and she was happy to have escaped as early as she did. Harry had been moody all night, glaring openly at Ginny's boyfriend, only pausing to make a scathing remark about Lucius Malfoy. He had been the only shock of the night. Politeness isn't something Hermione had normally associated with the Malfoys.

Hermione quickly rid herself of her cumbersome and tedious evening attire and sank into her bed. Sleep came quickly, but was fitful.

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The next morning, Hermione awoke to an arrangement of pink roses waving in her face.

"Ouch." thorns poked her and tangled in her hair, and Hermione felt a weight depress from the side of the bed.

"Miss Granger? Dobby is bringing you flowers from Master Potter, miss." The elf squeaked as she shoved the roses away and conjured up a vase on her bedside table.

"Err…Thank you Dobby, but couldn't you just…shake me or something?"

As soon as she'd said this, a look of stricken mortification crossed the elf's large face. His round eyes grew to the size of saucers, and his bat-like ears drooped. He began to punch himself repeatedly in the nose.

"Dobby! Dobby I forbid you to punish yourself!" Hermione hissed, slightly panicked.

"Dobby must go back to the Manor, Miss Granger. Happy Christmas." The elf looked happy to have escaped.

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed the card from her bouquet. Pink roses. Blech. Hadn't she told Harry she despised pink roses?

"To Hermione, a wonderful person and my best friend, love Harry." She read aloud, snorting ruefully to herself. "Doesn't exactly scream love and passion, does it Crooks?" The orange cat surveyed her with half opened eyes, lolling on its back as a command to be paid attention by its master. "Sometimes I think you own me instead of the other way around."

Hermione pulled on her bathrobe and padded barefoot down the hall and into the small but neatly arranged kitchen, intent on the morning coffee that she couldn't function properly without. There were presents under the tree, they would have arrived overnight from her parents and the Weasleys. Hermione finished preparing her coffee and settled herself into an armchair next to the tree.

A Weasley sweater, rock cakes, a new toothbrush, perfume, and several books later she was on her last gift. A small boxed wrapped in iridescent silver paper twinkled at her from its spot under the tree. Reflecting the many blinking white lights like stars across a morning sky. She pulled away the thin green bow and peeled back the paper. Opening the box, she found a pair of delicate diamond earrings.

"Who…?"

Hermione pulled out all piece of folded parchment.

"To Miss Hermione Granger, with much gratitude, Lucius Malfoy."

Bloody Hell.

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"Morning, Hermione." Harry called several hours later as he pushed open her front door.

"Afternoon, actually, Harry." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh right, I stayed at the Burrow last night, you know how those Weasleys are…" Harry grinned sheepishly.

"Right, Harry. Happy Christmas."

Happy Christmas, Harry!" Evan called from the kitchen.

"Happy Christmas to you too, Evan." Harry said absently, staring at Hermione. "Did you do something with your hair?"

"No, Harry."

"New shirt?" a weak venture, to be sure.

"I am wearing robes, Harry" Hermione seemed slightly exasperated, Harry tried again.

"Nice try, mate." Evan laughed loudly.

"Did you….are you wearing makeup?" Harry asked, clearly puzzled and ignoring Evan.

"No, Harry."

"Where did you get those?"

"What?" Hermione asked, clearly growing weary of his banter.

"Those earrings, I've never seen them before." Harry said triumphantly, obviously pleased with himself.

"Oh…they were a Christmas present."

"From who?"

"My parents." Hermione mumbled nonchalantly. Evan snorted.

"Ah, well they look nice."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Now, shouldn't we be making a guest list or something?" Harry asked.

"Yes, we still have to narrow our list down to two hundred and fifty guests." Hermione answered, pulling a folder labeled "Wedding Plans" and stuffed with parchment from a drawer.

"And how many is on the list now?"

"Oh, I'd say about five-hundred--"

"Bloody Hell!" Harry interrupted.

"--more than you can invite." Evan finished.

"You're telling me there is over seven hundred people on that list?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, Harry."

"Do we even know seven hundred bloody people?"

"Harry, between my family, the Weasleys, school friends, and Ministry colleagues, plus the people we are obligated to invite, yes we do." Hermione said patiently.

"Well, just cut out all the Slytherins then."

"Harry! Alastor Moody is a Slytherin! Not to mention Barry Widdows!" Hermione said scolding, "We'll have to invite the Malfoys as well…"

"WHAT?"

"Harry, Mr. Malfoy has been exceedingly polite, and they are very influencing members of society."

"I wont have any bloody Malfoy's at my wedding!" Harry roared.

"Then I suppose you better find someone else to marry, hadn't you?" Hermione yelled back, storming down the hall and slamming her bedroom door.

Even looked up from his spot at the kitchen table. "Giver her until tomorrow, and she'll be fine. I'll talk to her, mate."

"Thanks, Evan." And with that, Harry left.

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Hermione sat quietly at the long, linen covered table, surrounded be her family and various Weasleys. White tulle was blinding, and the food was mediocre. This was not how she had planned her wedding.

"Hermione, dear, it's time for the first dance." Molly said quietly as Mrs. Granger wiped away a few stray tears.

"Oh, right." Hermione stood, pushing back her chair, and met Harry on the dance floor. He was a terrible dancer.

"Sorry, Hermione." He grinned apologetically as he stepped on her foot yet again.

"No worries, Harry."

Mercifully, the song ended, and Harry left the dance floor.

"May I dance with the bride?"

Hermione turned to see Lucius Malfoy, looking achingly wealthy in his black silk dress robes. She nodded in acknowledgement as he guided her back onto the floor.

"Aren't brides supposed to be blushing and happy, or am I misinformed?"

"I am happy!" Hermione said firmly.

"Then why, Miss Granger, does it seem as if you are convincing yourself?" his question was polite, but it sent a sharp stab into Hermione's chest.

"I am not trying to convince myself, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione said firmly yet again, "And I never got a chance to thank you, for the earrings." A mere smirk assured Hermione that he had noticed her wearing them. "They are beautiful."

"A small token of appreciation, Mrs. Potter, "Lucius paused to take in her discomfort at the title.

"Its Granger. I am keeping my maiden name."

"Ah. It appears our time is over, then, Miss Granger." Lucius nodded politely. "Adieu." he handed her a box, larger than the first but still quite small, wrapped again in the beautiful silver paper. "Congratulations, may you be very happy together." he turned away, and vanished.

Hermione excused herself from her guests and escaped quickly to the bathroom, where she hurriedly unwrapped the box. Nestled against the deep green velvet was a simple diamond pendant, brilliantly cut and suspended from a delicate silver chain. Hermione fastened the necklace around her neck, and shrank the box, leaving it on a table in the Hall, inside a brightly wrapped gift bag. She re-entered the ballroom and went to her parents and Harry.

"Oh, Hermione that necklace is stunning!" her mother exclaimed.

"Thank you, Mum." Hermione muttered softly.

"And those earring as well, how lovely."

Harry looked sharply at Hermione, no doubt noticing her mother's amazement with jewelry she had supposedly given, but said nothing.