Hermione Granger was currently engaged in one of the most pointless conversations of her entire life.

Well, she amended inwardly, it wasn't exactly pointless. She had a point she was trying to get across, and so did Ron, but neither of them seemed to be making headway.

About a half-hour ago, she and Draco had decided that the best thing for them to do would be to find Ron and Pansy. And after about twenty minutes of searching, they had found them. Kissing as if their lives depended on it.

And Hermione felt, initially, a detached sort of disappointment – but the Binding Kiss had done its work well. She felt totally, irrefutably attached to Draco. She remembered her brief time with Ron, but she had already filed it away in her mind under, "Memories." It already felt like a thing of the past. It was something of a relief as well, because she and Ron had only been kidding themselves if they thought they could make it work. They weren't suited romantically, although they worked beautifully as friends – and they always would.

Upon finding them, Draco had cleared his throat loudly, and a very sheepish Ron and Pansy had disentangled their limbs from each other and walked over to a mostly-amused Draco and Hermione.

Pansy and Draco had walked away from them, talking quietly to each other and Ron and Hermione had settled themselves onto a flat rock. And began what Hermione considered to be one of the most pointless conversations of her entire life.

"But –" Ron had spluttered, "he's a Slytherin!"

"So is Pansy," Hermione had replied calmly.

Then he had grumbled and muttered to himself a bit. And finally had said, "You've always hated him! And he's always hated you!"

"Same with you and Pansy," said Hermione, with no rancor. Her voice was calm and reasonable. Which, in Ron's opinion made it all the more infuriating.

"He's spent the last six years calling you a Mudblood!"

"And she's spent the last six years calling you a blood traitor."

And then Ron grumbled and muttered to himself some more.

"Well, how," said Ron, with the air of someone who knows he has won the argument, "do we even know how much of this is the spell and how much of it is our actual feelings?"

Hermione considered this. "I'm not sure. I guess we'll just have to see."

Ron looked livid. "Just wait and see? That's your answer?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. If it's the spell, I have no idea how long it will last. But I know I can't even stand the thought of being separated from him. Do you really want to break it off with Pansy just because you think it might be the spell?"

Ron sighed. "No, actually. I don't."

"Don't what?" came Pansy's voice from behind them. Ron and Hermione whipped their heads around and saw Draco and Pansy walking toward them, both of them looking relatively satisfied with the outcome of their talk.

"Nothing," said Ron quickly. Pansy looked suspicious, but Draco pulled her out of her thoughts by announcing, "Good lord, it's nearly four in the morning!"

"We should get back," said Ron, reaching over to pull Pansy into his arms. She sank into them as if they'd been doing this all their lives.

"Yeah, you two go ahead," said Draco. "I need to stay and talk to Granger for a bit."

Ron looked a bit mutinous, but Pansy whispered something in his ear and he brightened. "Yeah, okay," he announced. "But at least have her back before dawn!" he shot at Malfoy, who looked so relieved that they were actually leaving that he was only too happy to agree.

"So," said Hermione, now that she was alone with Draco. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"My father," he said immediately.

"Your…" her voice trailed off.

"Father," he said forcefully. "You know…" he grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Hair about this shade." He pointed to his eyes. "Eyes about this color." He indicated a height about two inches above his head. "About…so high. Nasty bloke. Name of Lucius."

Hermione stared at him wonderingly. What on earth was he on about?

"You may," said Draco wryly, "recall him from the few occasions where you've met and he's attempted to wipe you off the face of the planet."

"I recall," said Hermione. "I definitely recall."

"Then," said Draco, "I suppose you'll understand when I say that he wouldn't be thrilled if I were to bring you home for the holidays or anything like that."

"Yes," said Hermione. "I definitely understand that."

"So…" said Draco.

"So…?" asked Hermione. "What are you saying?"

"Don't you care?" said Draco. "Don't you care that this relationship is going to entirely consist of one painful – possibly fatal – headache after the next?"

"Yes, of course," said Hermione simply. "But I don't really want to think that far ahead."

"But…with all the problems we'll be facing, we may never work it out. We'll be lucky if we last until Christmas."

"If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out. It doesn't mean we shouldn't try." Draco stared at her as if he had never seen anything so incredible in his entire life. "And," Hermione said softly, "If it only lasts until Christmas, then at least we'll both have had a very lovely Christmas indeed." She smiled at him and he smiled back, and she saw all of her hope reflected back at her in his eyes. "In the meantime, Draco Malfoy," she said throatily, moving her hands up his body in an achingly slow gesture, "you have been a very naughty boy this year."

Draco's heart skipped several beats at least. "Oh, fuck, yes…" he agreed. "Yes, I have."

Harry Potter could not have been more surprised for the sight that met his eyes.

Flying overhead, he had seen footsteps in the snow. He had dived down and followed the tracks, his footsteps crunching in the snow. And heard some most peculiar sounds as he did.

"Shit! Someone's coming!"

"Quick, get up – get up!"

"Who is it?"

In a matter of seconds, Harry found himself in clearing where none other than Hermione Granger – his best friend – and Draco Malfoy – his worst enemy – were standing about five feet apart, looking wildly around. Hermione was trying to rearrange her hair and Malfoy… was Malfoy pulling his trousers up?

"What the hell is going on here?" shouted Harry. "Malfoy – you…and Hermione…" Harry ran a hand through his hair – which was absolutely wild from the wind – and readjusted his glasses which had been crookedly perched on the end of his nose. His robes were hanging haphazardly on him over his thick pants and jacket and he was breathing hard from having flown so fast in the cold.

"Harry," said Hermione in a concerned voice, "you look…"

"If you tell me I look fucking frazzled I will kill you," he said venomously.

Draco stepped in front of Hermione. "You're not coming anywhere near her," he snarled.

Hermione swatted Draco's arm. "Calm down, Harry's just having a bad night." She walked over to Harry. "Are you all right? What are you doing here?"

Harry's eyes practically bugged out of his head. "What am I doing here?" he asked, floored. "What am I doing here? You and Malfoy are…" Harry shook his head in disbelief.

Finally, Harry raised his hand to the rock where Ron and Hermione had been sitting a short time ago. "You two. Sit. Explain."

Harry must have looked sufficiently scary enough that they both obeyed at once. Hermione settled herself daintily on the rock, but Draco's reaction was most astonishing: He yelped as soon as his arse had come in contact with the seat and shot up like a rocket. He put his hand on his backside and winced slightly.

"I think I'll stand."

It was a good thing Harry was staring in shock at Malfoy, because he missed Hermione's wickedly knowing grin.

"This is it," said Harry, his voice filled with a desperate sort of edge. "I have had it…First my stuff starts disappearing …all bloody week I've been thinking that I'm going crazy… but this is definitely the craziest thing I've ever seen in my life. I must be losing it. It's the only explanation."

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, bloody hell, I'd nearly forgotten. Look, Potter," he said. "Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and I have been Summoning your stuff and hiding it around the school. You're not losing it."

Hermione shot Draco a disapproving glare and Harry looked mad enough to spit nails. "You bastard, Malfoy!" he spat. "You stole my stuff?"

"Yep," said Draco, with no trace of contrition.

"And what about Hermione?" demanded Harry angrily.

Draco put his hands on her shoulders. "Yes, I've stolen her as well," he announced.

"Oh, do stop it, Draco. He hasn't stolen me, Harry. But Draco and I are…well, Harry - you might want to sit down for this…."

Hermione was never truly worried, even as looks of confusion and rage stole over Harry's face. She knew he'd come around eventually, as would Ron, as would everyone… Hermione had always believed in being optimistic, and she would need every ounce of that now as she embarked on a relationship with the most bitterly sarcastic man she had ever met in her whole life.

"You're kidding!"

"No," said Ginny, laughing and shaking her head. "I'm not."

"You sent him a singing valentine?"

"Well, I was much younger and stupider and I was hopelessly in love with him at the time. Which I'm not now," she qualified.

Blaise shook his head. "That's too funny." He stared at her, giggling with her chin resting on her tucked-up knees. "Thanks for staying with me. It was nice of you."

"Well, someone had to. You couldn't fly, and you couldn't do any magic because your wrist was broken."

Blaise flashed her a devilish grin. "I'll tell you a secret."

"Oh, I love secrets," said Ginny impishly.

"I'm left-handed." Ginny shrieked in false indignation but it almost immediately turned into laughter.

"Why did you say…?"

"I didn't, I just didn't bother to correct your mistaken assumption."

"I suppose that's true," said Ginny.

"You know," said Blaise, "your hair is so lovely. The exact shade of blood."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "That's rather a dark compliment."

Blaise shrugged. "I am part-vampire, you know," he said with dignity.

Ginny shivered. "You are?" she asked him excitedly. Merlin, that was sexy, she thought to herself.

Blaise stared at her as though Christmas and his birthday had both come early this year. Then he parted his mouth and licked his tongue over his upper teeth slooooowly, slooowly.

Ginny gasped in delight. She had never in her life seen anything that sexy.

"Tis December at Hogwarts, quite windy and cold

As the story is done being read, being told.

You've seen poor old Harry, confused and much-hassled

And I think you'll agree he's sufficiently frazzled.

Ron and Herm both get some Slytherin lovin'

And Ginny and Blaise (c'mon! Who saw that coming?)

Now you've finished the fic and you've finished your tea

I hope that you're wrapped in your blanket snugly,

I hope that you liked it, ('twas great fun to write)

Season's Greetings to all – and to all, a good night!