A/N: I'm back! Inspired by an excess of holiday spirit and annual re-watch of White Christmas, here's a little oneshot just for fun.

Draco was enjoying a perfectly adequate lunch in the Ministry Cafeteria when Theo plopped himself into the plastic chair across the table. "You need a date for Christmas." Draco rolled his eyes, immediately regretting the decision not to eat at his desk.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow that Theo knew traditionally to mean the blonde would very much like him to go away, stop speaking, or explain himself. He chose the former.

"My reasons are threefold" Theo leaned forward enthusiastically, holding up three fingers in front of him.

"I definitely didn't ask for your-" Malfoy attempted, his voice dry and accustomed to Theo's manic conversational style which surely meant he would be interrupted.

"One- I've decided to spend the holiday on a very warm island with many beautiful men in minimal clothing" Draco made a face. Theo leaned back and examined his nails, doing his best performance of the spoiled aristocrat he was. "Frankly, I deserve it. I work myself to the bone and never get appreciated for it." Draco nearly choked on his sandwich, laughing to himself. Theo didn't work at all, never mind at the Ministry, though he seemed to be constantly present there, alternately entertaining and bothering Malfoy while he tried to accomplish things with his time.

"Two-" Theo playfully placed his hand up again, wiggling a second finger. "Whilst I am quite suited to my orphanhood, you, my pouty friend, do not pull it off."

Draco attempted to cut in with a reminder that he was not, in fact, orphaned, though perhaps having one parent in Azkaban and the other hopping around their many family homes across Europe so often gave him honorary status. Theo ignored Draco's attempt to contribute to the conversation, clearly determined to manage most of it himself.

"And I, being the fantastic friend and fraternal spirit that I am, can't possibly enjoy myself to the fullest knowing your pointy face is sulking away another cold London Christmas all alone."

Tilting his head and glaring sharply, Draco mumbled a sarcastic "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Theo responded nonsensically.

Figuring he was too far in the conversation at this point to get out of it unscathed, Draco surrendered to participating. "And the third reason?"

Theo slumped in his chair, chin in his hand and looking away, unconvincingly pretending he had forgotten his final reason.

"Ah! Yes! How could I forget?!" Draco rolled his eyes at the fake epiphany. "You DESPERATELY need to get laid."

"Merlin, Theo. Yell it louder why don't you?" Theo opened his mouth, seemingly to do just that, and Draco rushed his hand to the equally pointy-faced (Draco thought, anyway) boy's mouth, which Theo promptly and disgustingly licked, forcing Draco to pull away in exaggerated revulsion.

"And who, exactly, do you propose I ask out, for the first time, on Christmas?"

Suddenly, Theo's grin stretched nearly to his ears. Draco scowled in response and reminded Theo that smiling like that would give him premature wrinkles, but Theo ignored him, waving to someone behind Draco.

"Happy Christmas, Granger!" Theo shouted.

Draco froze, jerking into better posture, his eyes wide and silently pleading at Theo to not be an arsehole.

Hermione stopped at their table, a salad in one hand and a Perrier in the other. "Nott. Malfoy." She greeted them with nods. "Happy Christmas."

Theo went into his best impression of a gossiping secretary. "Big plans for the holiday, dearie?"

Draco watched Hermione fail to pretend that Theo's interest was natural. "Erm. Nothing unusual."

"Ah, and what is usual?"

Hermione glanced around as if searching for an escape. "Harry and I-"

Theo didn't even let her finish her sentence. "Oh sure, cuddling up with the Chosen One in front of the fire-" He tilted his wrists in faux girlishness, turning to Draco. "Sounds simply divine."

"Well- no, we're just roommates. Friends."

Theo leaned towards her and Draco looked at Hermione, trying to apologize with his eyes for his uniquely terrible friend. "You sure about that, Granger?"

Hermione scowled. "You're in top form today, Nott. Did someone give you sugar or something?"

Theo winked suggestively at her. "Something."

Hermione looked mildly horrified and turned to Draco, sending a tiny shiver down his spine when their eyes met. "Are you going to the lecture on the application of muggle precedence tonight?"

Draco nodded, opening his mouth to ask if she wanted to, maybe, get a drink before, but Theo interrupted with a sarcastic, "Where else could you possibly be on a Friday night?"

Hermione dragged her eyes away from Draco's face, turning to Theo's demand for attention. "Indeed."

She glanced back at Draco as she began to walk away. "See you there." Draco watched her go until Theo's perfectly tan face and bright green eyes invaded his eye line. "I don't know Draco, who on Merlin's green earth could you possibly ask to spend a swotty, sweaty Christmas with you?"

Draco growled and shook his head, determined to forget the conversation by the time he reached the elevators back to the Legal Department.

Hermione groaned as she walked in the door, pulling off her work-appropriate heels the minute she walked into Grimmauld Place, her trousers off and bra unsnapped by the time she reached her bedroom. Another thirteen-hour day and all she wanted to do was pull on her warm flannel pajamas, thick slippers, and an XXL Holyhead Harpies crewneck sweater that Ginny had given her for Christmas three years ago. For the last four hours, she had been thinking about the leftover bolognese sauce Ron had left in the fridge when he came over and cooked on Sunday, and she was determined to get to it and a corresponding wine as soon as possible.

"You both work too much," Ron had said, "and you can't cook for shit." Hermione had scoffed but not dared to disagree. "Just be glad I'm here to feed you." Then he had given her instructions on reheating the sauce and cooking pasta to go with it. "DO NOT eat leftover pasta with this sauce," he lectured. Hermione had protested but he had just shaken his head. "I spent eight hours on this sauce. Don't fuck it up with shitty, stale pasta. It takes ten minutes. And don't forget to salt the water."

Hermione poured herself a large glass of Cabernet, the last of the bottle she had opened a few days ago. She swished the wine around the glass with a sigh of satisfaction. Reaching up to the high cabinet where the pasta and rice were kept, she found nothing but a few types of rice she didn't understand the difference between and a jar of tomato paste. Frantic, she began opening random cabinets. "No no no no no." She told herself. "We cannot be out." She checked the fridge, desperately clinging to the tiny chance that Harry had cooked pasta and disobeyed Ron's instructions by saving it. "Fuck." She told the fridge as she closed it.

Looking down at her questionable outfit, Hermione tried to calculate the time it would take to walk to the corner store, find a box of pasta- and more wine, she thought as she glanced at the empty wine rack- and trudge back in the cold, dark winter evening.

Opening the fridge again and glancing around for a convincing alternative to the bolognese, she admitted defeat.

Hermione pulled on Harry's heavy and much warmer coat and glanced at her hair in the ancient mirror that hung on the wall. She swiped at the eyeliner that had migrated to the bags underneath her eyes throughout the day. It would have to suffice.

The streets were cold, but she breathed in the nostalgic smells of winter and Christmas, looking up to enjoy the magicked twinkling lights that wrapped around streetlamps. Hermione sighed to herself. There was something truly special about this time of year. It was romantic, she had always thought, and just a little bit melancholy in the best way.

Avoiding eye contact with the clerk, Hermione found the blue box of spaghetti quickly. But as she turned eagerly towards the back corner where the overpriced and mediocre wine was kept, her breath caught in her throat and she cursed. A tall, pale-haired, expensive pea-coat wearing Draco Malfoy stood facing the racks, carefully inspecting a bottle of wine. She took in his shining shoes and well-tailored gray suit and realized he was still in his sharp work clothes.

Before she had a chance to drop the pasta and run, he turned towards her, raised a smug brow, and smirked. "Good Gods, Granger. What in the world are you wearing?"

Hermione pulled Harry's over-large jacket more tightly around herself, half-wondering if she could cast a Disillusionment charm and pretend this had never happened. She croaked the first thing she could think. Unfortunately, that was "I'm just here for pasta."

Malfoy put the bottle into his hand cart and stalked towards her, looking her up and down with amusement. "This is quite a look." Hermione scowled in response. "Don't get me wrong-" His eyes traveled the length of her body again as he stepped forward another small step. "-I like it." His grin was mischievous and his tone mocking, but Hermione noticed that his eyes stayed hot and dark on hers, the height difference between them making her heart race.

"Shut up, Malfoy." It came out quiet and raspy.

"Witty, Granger."

She pushed past him. "Can't you let me buy my wine in peace?"

Malfoy put his hands up in surrender, laughing as he began to walk away. "You got it."

She sighed with relief, picking up a random bottle to examine.

She heard his shoes against the laminate as he turned towards her again, his voice low and flirtatious as he said, "I hope you don't mind if I remember this little outfit."

Hermione whipped around, nearly losing her grip on the bottle, but he was already gone.

"Oi, Potter. You spend Christmas with Granger, traditionally?"

Harry looked up from his after-work pint, squinting to find the voice shouting at him from across the bar, raising an interested brow as Theo Nott sauntered towards him.

"Nott." Harry nodded a begrudging greeting.

Theo let his eyes wander over the Seeker's slim shoulders, noticing the Boy Who Lived had rolled his shirt- sleeves up after work hours and admiring the lean muscle visible through the thin fabric. "Well- don't you?"

Harry raised one shoulder in an agreeing half-shrug. "Sure. I mean we usually spend the morning with Ron's family and spend the rest of the day doing puzzles and drinking too much wine, usually end up ordering takeaway. Not sure if you'd call that a traditional holiday."

"Sounds positively disgusting, Potter." Theo swung himself onto the stool next to him and gestured to the bartender for a pint. Harry opened his mouth to protest but didn't get the chance. "Anyway, I need to borrow her this year. If you don't mind."

Harry looked skeptically at him. "Does she know this?"

Theo saved his hand to dismiss the question. "It's her idea. Or it will be. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, that's not happening."

Theo rolled his eyes over-dramatically. "I'm getting her laid, Potter. Don't pretend like she doesn't need it either, she's practically a nun from what I hear."

"First of all, ew. Second of all, I don't think she's interested, Nott." He looked the thin man up and down, taking in his expensive yet wrinkled suit and fashionably messy hair. "No offense."

"Definitely offense, Potter, but she's not my preferred category of partner if we're being classy about it."

Harry grinned into his glass as he drank deeply. "Who, then?"

"Have you ever been in a meeting with her and Malfoy?"

Grimacing, Harry remembered a case last year that had necessitated legal mediation, Malfoy and Granger on either side of the table. He refused to think about the sexual tension that had actually raised the temperature of the small conference room. Or when he had pestered his best friend and roommate over it later, only to receive a stubborn silence accompanied by a furious blush. "Fair point."

Theo nodded his appreciation for his agreement.

"But there's a problem- Hermione would never leave me alone at Christmas."

"Mmm. Not used to her orphanhood yet." Theo nodded with facetious solemnity. He was surprised when Harry simply shrugged, not giving Theo the satisfaction of the irritated reaction he was used to receiving from Draco. He felt thrown off his rhythm.

"So you need to find a way to not be alone at Christmas..." Theo thought aloud.

"With someone she would not want to spend the holiday with," Harry added.

"Right."

"Someone obnoxious. Annoying even." Harry suggested overly casually.

"You can't have Malfoy, Potter. That's the whole point." Theo pushed his side into Harry's, teasing, though he didn't quite pull back fully, gaining an unnoticed inch of closeness that allowed him to breathe in the Irish Spring and slightly smoky smell of the man next to him.

Harry scowled at the suggestion. "Not my type."

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Theo scanned the bar. "What is your type, Potter? I'm sure we can find something suitable around here."

"Mmm. Doubtful." Harry sipped his beer, shaking his head.

Theo pointed to a tall, athletic-looking woman with honey-blonde hair who was standing at the bar, and who had looked over and them a few times, eyes lingering. "She looks like she could handle a 1000-piece."

Harry shook his head, biting back a grin. "Too blonde."

Theo raised a brow. "Right. Redheads, isn't it?" He teased, scouring the room for a hint of auburn or copper to no avail. "No luck there. Though I suppose you'd risk losing her among the Weasleys and bringing the wrong one home." Theo glanced back, hoping to finally earn a reaction.

Harry just chuckled. "A real danger."

"Brown hair it is." Theo looked determined, spotting a curvy brunette whose hips purposefully swayed as she walked back from the restroom to join her friends at a nearby high-top. "There's one."

Harry pretended to consider the girl before turning to Theo, spinning his stool and letting his legs fall between Theo's as they faced each other. "Bit petite for me, frankly."

Theo threw up his hands in exasperation. "Alright, Potter. You're a picky one, you know that? Explains why you never did get much tail at school."

Harry laughed deeply, "Indeed." He tilted his head up at the taller man. "You never made much gossip, yourself, Nott. Now, why's that?"

Theo grinned slyly. "Not quite as many fish in my pond, was there?"

Harry beamed, deciding to give up the game. He leaned closer, wondering exactly what it would taste like to lick the skin above Theo's collarbone and half-whispered, "Maybe you should stop assuming you know what pond a guy's in without asking."

When he pulled away, Theo had gone a bit pale, pulling back to give the Chosen One a full once-over- then letting himself go back for seconds.

"Disappointed?" Harry raised his eyebrows in doubt.

"Sure." Theo frowned. "I owe Draco five galleons."

Harry laughed. "Well, Nott? Know any obnoxious, tall, brunette gentlemen available for...festivities?" He dared the Slytherin with a coy look, glancing at his lips with playful lasciviousness.

"Erm. No. I'm-"

"Scared, Nott?"

"Course not." He coughed. "Not available, unfortunately. I'll be on a boat. Island. You know," Theo gestured around him, "sunshine, palm trees, cocktails, and such."

"We don't really have to spend the holiday together though, do we? Hermione only has to think that we are."

Theo frowned, fidgeting with his glass. "I suppose that's true."

"So, we just go to the ministry holiday party, put on a convincing show, and you get your perfect Christmas," Harry suggested the idea as though it was extremely easy, making it impossible for Theo to decline.

Theo drained his glass. "All right." He gulped, his throat already dry again. "But I don't need anyone thinking I'm a relationship type, Potter. We're just convincing them we're spending Christmas together, not moving in."

Harry chuckled. "I can be convincing, Nott. Can you?"

"Fuck off. I'm a better actor than you'll ever be." He pulled out a handful of galleons and placed them on the bar. "Just- no PDA. Unless absolutely necessary."

Harry smiled into his glass and looked forward, feeling Theo's eyes on his throat as he swallowed. "Sure. Not unless absolutely necessary."

Draco dragged himself into the law library hiding a strong cappuccino in a paper cup behind his books, avoiding looking at the signs that warned against any food or drink. Sneaking a sip and relishing the shot of caffeine his body was in great need of, he nearly coughed on the hot liquid when he caught a glimpse of the person sitting at the table he had been headed towards. Hermione Granger, of all people, was mid-yawn, stretching her arms up and cracking her neck, making a peek of her midriff barely visible beneath the hem of her conservative silk blouse.

Ducking behind a tall shelf, Draco let himself look at her. He watched her lean over the table where multiple thick tomes were opened in front of her. Biting her lower lip as she furtively took notes on a large scroll of parchment, he watched her brilliant eyes scan a page, flipping it just as she turned to another book, quickly setting her quill down to trace a finger across the page. She was intensely focused; he thought of the hours she would spend in the library at Hogwarts in their fourth year. Viktor Krum would sit too close to her, always failing to pull her attention away from the texts in front of her.

Draco had tried to stop watching them back then, unable to keep from sneering at the Quidditch player's infatuation with a muggle-born. But over time he couldn't help but be a little fascinated by the power she held, over Krum, and Weasley- stopping him in his tracks in a periwinkle dress at the Yule Ball. Later he'd be in awe of her resilience, the way she stood up to the darkest wizards and witches in the world, her fearlessness in the face of fiendfyre and strength in the moments of Potter's short-lived death.

For the last three years, he had admired her from across courtrooms and mediation tables, relishing the way her eyes crinkled with arrogance when she was about to make a well-researched argument. He watched the irritable way she would twirl her hair up into a wild bun when a negotiation went on too long in stuffy ministry conference rooms. Sometimes she would wear a pencil skirt and his mouth would water when it rode up, the fabric unequal to the task of keeping her significant arse from tempting him.

Their initially tense but necessary peace had calmed over time, to something congenial and friendly. He couldn't help but compare other women unfavorably against her, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone snatched up the "Brightest Witch of their Age." It hadn't been Weasley, but he watched as lackluster men stopped by her office and sent pathetic bouquets of daisies and carnations that made her smile. When she picked one, he told himself, he might be able to focus on getting past a third date with another less powerful, less brilliant, less unbelievably tempting witch. Maybe.

Gulping more of his cappuccino without hiding it, he turned towards the exit. There was no way he'd be able to focus here.

Hermione gave the stack of hangers on the door a skeptical side-eye as she wiggled out of her jeans. "I don't understand. Harry has a date?"

From the other side of the partial wall that divided the dressing rooms, Ginny didn't hide the humor in her confirmation. "And he refuses to tell me who it is," Ginny grunted as she pulled off a combat boot and peeled off her leather leggings. "It's pissing me off."

"Hmph," Hermione grumbled. "I'd be pissed too, telling you this close to the party." In a louder voice she asked, "Have you found a replacement date then?"

"Better believe it." She could practically hear Ginny's cocky grin. "And it's much more exciting than going with a platonic partner that will show up with his hair a mess and barely put his hand on my arse. I'm fairly confident my evening won't be ending in a late-night curry, for once."

"Who did you ask?" Hermione gave up on the first dress after it wouldn't go past her hips without significant effort.

"Oh, just one of the guys I've been seeing. Can I pull off pink?"

"Too cool for your complexion, I think. Can you transfigure it?"

"Meh, too much work." Ginny peeled the bodycon dress off, admiring her well-earned calf muscles in the mirror.

"Exactly how many guys are you dating right now, Gin?"

Ginny shrugged even though Hermione couldn't see her. "A few. You know you can date without dating, right? Not everything has to be serious. Sometimes you just need, you know, to-"

Hermione interrupted her to prevent the very real possibility of getting kicked out of the shop for Ginny's language. "Right, ok. Which one, then?"

"Peter"

"The guy from my birthday party?"

Ginny sighed dreamily, remembering the very pleasant twenty minutes she had spent in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron on a humid September night. "Mmm yes, that's right."

"Ew," Hermione mumbled to herself.

"Don't be jealous, Granger."

"I am NOT jealous of THAT. Your neck looked like you had been the target of a cursed bludger the next day."

Ginny spun to check out her arse in the sparkling black number, adjusting her bra for maximum cleavage. "Ooh I think this is the one." She stood up on her toes to mimic the heels she'd wear. "Not all of us can get off on staring at a guy and fighting with him in the courtroom."

"Ginny!"

Hermione scoffed at Ginny's barely muffled laughter. She tilted her head and squinted at the mirror, unsure about the champagne velvet wrap dress that fell nicely at her knees. Pulling her hair up with one hand, she imagined what the neckline would look like with a simple chignon that would keep her cool in the hot ministry lobby all night. "I think I found something that will work, but I have no idea what shoes I'd wear."

"Let's see then."

Hermione heard Ginny's stall open and flicked the lock on hers, taking in the deadly tight dress Ginny was flaunting. The halter neck showed off Ginny's Quidditch-strong arms and the tight bodice made even Ginny's athletic build look curvaceous. "Oh, you HAVE to wear that."

Ginny's slow whistle interrupted Hermione's compliment. "That looks great. I mean, it's conservative" Ginny shrugged, "but I know you prefer that." Hermione's stern face confirmed her analysis. "And you'll borrow my red stiletto's."

"Oof I can already feel my feet aching."

"Cast a cushion charm, what kind of witch are you?"

They both returned to their rooms to change back to their normal clothes. Hermione pulled on her slightly baggy beige sweater and breathed out a sigh of relief at being comfortable again. "Want to get dinner?"

"Yeah" Ginny agreed through the wall. "Hey, are you sure you'll be good going stag?"

"What do you mean? I always go alone."

"Well sure, but you go along with me and Harry. More of a threesome if you know what I mean."

"Gross, Gin."

Ginny giggled.

"Of course I'll be fine." Hermione nodded at the mirror as if reassuring her reflection would help. "Don't worry about me."

Hermione met Harry at the base of the stairs in Grimmauld Place, in front of the fireplace. Glancing around the kitchen longingly, she wondered if anyone would really notice her absence tonight if she changed back into her flannel pajamas and stayed home.

"Don't even say it. You have to go." Harry read her mind as he came down the stairs in his sharp, midnight black dress robes. Hermione admired her friend but grimaced when she noticed his hair.

"Merlin, Harry. Couldn't do anything with it?" She Accio'd a comb, doing her very best Molly Weasley impression as she attempted to fix the dark mess.

Harry pulled away shortly, "It is what it is, Mione." He took a step back and gave her a slow once-over. "You look good!"

"Don't sound so surprised" she mumbled, looking down and smoothing her dress.

"However," he added, his voice dangerously coy. She knew from years of experience what Harry Potter sounded like when he had a plan, and the irritating frequency of those ill-thought-out plans working out. "the dress needs a little help."

Opening her mouth to protest, she was interrupted by the wave of Harry's wand and whispered spell. Hermione gasped as she watched the dress lose about 4 inches of length- the decisive difference between a conservative cocktail dress and a sartorial invitation for sex. She reached out and hit his arm, hard.

He shrugged, laughing. "Just because you're going to the party alone doesn't mean you have to come home from it alone."

Hermione squinted at him, frowning. "Are you really not going to tell me who your date is?"

Harry grinned again, mischievous. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Is it something...potentially serious?"

Harry pretended to think for a moment. "Well...he's invited me to spend Christmas with him," Harry lied, watching carefully for her reaction, "but I told him we'd see how tonight went first."

Something in Hermione's heart dropped. Harry was her unspoken standing date for Christmas. And he would leave her alone to spend a day likely having endless amounts of sex and- the true betrayal- eating eggrolls and sesame chicken with someone else. Pulling herself together enough to hide her disappointment, she managed to smile at her friend. "That's great, Harry. I hope it goes really well."

With that, Harry hooked their elbows together and nodded at her. "Me too. Ready?"

Hermione nodded with as much confidence as she could- another lie, and Harry reached for a handful of Floo powder, bringing the fireplace to chartreuse life.

They arrived and found Theo Nott standing near the fireplace. "Potter," he nodded in greeting, "Granger." The lobby of the ministry was cleared of the usual welcome desks, coffee carts, and charmed flying memos. The marble walls shone, the floor freshly polished, reflecting the crowd of bureaucrats finally relieved of their scratchy daily businesswear, poured into robes, suits, and cocktail dresses. The champagne and firewhiskey flowed, transforming the cubicle dwellers into confident smooth-talking wizards and flirting witches.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not quite up for Nott's unpredictable antics this evening. "I'm still about 60% sure you don't work here. What in Merlin's name are you-" but she was interrupted by the horror of her best friend leaning forward and placing an assured kiss to the Slytherin's cheek- a bit too close to his lips. Theo seemed mildly shocked, but not nearly as shocked as Hermione.

"Oh, fuck no." She heard the characteristic drawl behind her and turned to see Draco Malfoy in what had to be the most expensive and well-tailored dress robes she had ever seen; she stopped herself from mentally undressing him, an activity she noticed many women around them were shamelessly indulging in. "This is not funny, Theo."

Theo grinned. "Not a joke, mate." He pulled back and made a show of checking out Harry. "Drink, Potter?" Harry turned back to wink at Hermione and Draco as the two men departed.

Draco turned to Hermione, his face still pale (appallingly more so than usual). "They're pranking us, right? I didn't even know Potter was..."

Hermione nodded, wondering if she was just as ashen-faced. "I don't know, Malfoy..." They both glanced over at where Theo and Harry had found a cozy, dark corner and stood too close to each other, laughing as they drank champagne. She watched Harry touch Theo's arm and saw Theo brush their thighs together. "Doesn't look fake to me..."

Draco grimaced, pulling his attention away from the pair to look at her. For the first time, he let himself really look, his eyes distracted by the red stilettos. He traced up her body, taking in long, dark legs and a dress that offered a peek of her upper thighs. He swallowed, lingering there before he continued to her generous hips and up to her lips, painted a dark nude that made her amber eyes shine. "Granger, you look...fuck."

He watched her fingers twitch as if she stopped herself from pulling her dress down. "Everyone seems quite surprised tonight that I can pull it together." Her cheeks blushed a charming rose color.

Draco stammered to correct himself or reassure her but she interrupted him before he could begin. "So. Alcohol." She deadpanned.

"Right. Yes. Something strong." he nodded in agreement, offering her his arm. She hesitated for only a moment before taking it, hyper-aware of the coworkers watching them.

"That went well." Theo's voice was low, his breath close enough to be warm against Harry's cheek.

Harry's voice almost purred in his confirmation.

Leaning against the wall, Theo watched over Harry's shoulder where the objects of his plotting had found a high-top table and were talking, glancing back at them un-subtly. "You think they believe us?" Theo caught Harry's scent, just as intoxicating as it had been at the pub earlier that week. Harry turned back and caught Hermione shaking her head.

"Mmm. Doesn't look like it. Better be sure." He leaned forward, placing a tentative, hot kiss on Theo's neck, and whispered, "I think we need to be more convincing."

Theo bit back a groan. "Erm. I don't know if that's-" Harry gently bit his earlobe and Theo exhaled sharply "-necessary."

Harry placed a hand on the wall next to Theo's head, blocking the view of Hermione and Draco and looking at Theo with a brow raised. "They need to believe we're spending the holiday together, right?" Theo shivered as Harry's eyes found his lips and stayed there. "Focus on your beach vacation, Nott." In response, Theo let his hand reach out to Harry's hip, his fingers delicately following his belt around to The Chosen Arse. Harry's eyes darkened, his tone serious as he grinned with approval, "Good boy."

Theo let out an involuntary, tiny moan. "Careful, Potter. I can only control myself so much."

Harry's lips came frighteningly close to his and Theo ached for the space between them to close. In a gruff voice that made Theo catch a glimpse of the powerful wizard Harry spent so much of his energy pretending not to be, Harry responded with a simple, "So, don't." Theo's mouth opened with a sharp inhale, and the kiss Harry placed on his parted lips was so soft he thought he might have imagined it.

Pulling away quickly, Harry turned to check on the couple and saw Hermione's glass nearly empty. He patted Theo's tie, looking him up and down without shame. "Why don't you work on that- "I'll check on our progress." He walked away and Theo, reminding himself how to breathe normally, watched from a distance as he asked Hermione to dance.

"What are you doing?"

Harry smiled with surprising earnest and spun Hermione in a small circle as the music played a gentle waltz. "Can you keep a secret?"

Hermione raised a brow at him. "Better than you"

He laughed and shrugged a single shoulder. His lips quirked. "Honestly? I like him."

"He's a menace."

"True."

Hermione watched Harry's face, trying to read her oldest friend. Harry smiled and glanced down, suddenly bashful and sincere."What about you?"

She gave him a sort of sad smile and for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few years, Hermione reassured a friend moving forward with their life that she would be just fine standing still. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Tilting his head towards the table where Malfoy was not so subtly staring at his friend, Harry raised a brow at her. "What about him? I mean, he's horrible, but the two of you seem to have...something."

Harry watched Hermione as she looked back at the tall blonde that even he had to admit had become a tall drink of water in the years since Hogwarts. Her neck flushed red, her teeth biting down on her lip before shrugging, trying to look casual and mostly failing. "You know, after you get to know him he's almost endurable."

Harry laughed. "Well, I doubt it, but...I know what you mean."

Theo sauntered over to the high-top where Draco was nursing his firewhiskey, elbow on the table, ignoring the women trying to make eye contact with him as they walked past.

"You're staring."

Draco shook himself out of his trance and looked down at his glass, pointedly ignoring Theo. Draco responded to with a dramatic eye roll. "Fuck off, Theo."

The lanky brunette smirked in response. "You realize she's going to be alone on Christmas?"

Draco stood and turned to his friend. "What are you doing with Potter? It's impossible to imagine he isn't a nauseatingly romantic relationship type. Why are you wasting your time?" Increasingly aggravated, Draco continued. "What makes you think he's going to go on your salacious holiday with you? And what the fuck is he doing leaving her alone on Christmas?" They both glanced over at the dancing friends as Draco slouched, sighing. To himself, barely audible, he murmured, "why wouldn't he want to spend Christmas with her?"

Theo failed to hide his smug smile as he leaned closer to his friend, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Take the risk, Draco." He looked back towards Harry as he pulled away from Granger, glasses almost askew, tie already pulled a little loose this early in the evening. "It's worth it." With a wink, he was gone, meeting Harry on his way off the dance floor and pulling him back to it. Draco watched Harry Potter pull his best friend close, Theo placing a hand on the other man's waist and laughing.

Draco took two offered glasses of champagne from a passing waiter as Hermione returned to the table and Draco watched a sweet sigh fall from her lips, her cheeks pink from exertion. She thanked him for the glass, their fingers brushing against the stem. "Well, Granger. What's the verdict?"

The corners of her lips lifted. "I think you're going to be alone on Christmas, Malfoy."

Swallowing the nervous knot in his throat, Draco chuckled. "Well, that makes two of us."

Draco's eyes found hers- finding them warm and tender. Just as Draco began to ask, "Would you want to"

Hermione got there first. "Care to keep each other company?" They both flushed, smiling down at the table.

In the silence that followed, Draco stared at her, thinking of how soft her velvet dress would be under his fingers, how he could take his time peeling it off of her. Thinking of the warmth between her thighs, he wondered if she shut her eyes when she came, if she would let him kiss her to swallow her moans, if he was capable of making her toes curl. Watching her take another drink, he watched her lips part around the glass and he envied it.

He cleared his throat. "What do you like to do on Christmas, Granger?"

She blushed, tilting her head to take him in from a new angle. "Not much." Her voice was clear and quiet. "Stay in, mostly."

Draco waited for a beat, beaming down at her. "Do you promise to wear those pajamas?"

He watched Hermione laugh beautifully as she drained her glass and stared at him for a moment. He pulled back, a little afraid. He knew this look, and it was usually followed up with Gryffindor receiving a ridiculous amount of house points. "Malfoy."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to begin Christmas early?"