It was the evening before the students went home for the Christmas holiday, only Draco wasn't going home. Not this year. The holiday was the perfect time to work on the alchemical repairs with the least amount of risk. If all went well, he might have the cabinet repaired by the end of the holiday… And if Slughorn gifted the poisoned mead to Dumbledore as planned, then soon the headmaster would be dead and this nightmare would be over.
Almost over.
Draco strode purposefully through the corridors toward the Great Hall. There was one thing he needed to do before the castle emptied and he spent two long weeks alone, working on the vanishing cabinet. He needed to see Grey.
He turned into the Great Hall, already greatly emptied, though there were still plenty of students having a festive dinner. He picked the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and walked the length of it, feeling out of place. It was strange not walking his usual path to the Slytherin table. He could feel inquisitive eyes on him from every direction, saw Hufflepuff heads lifting in surprise as he walked by. Fortunately, none of his friends were present. He had made sure they were all in the Slytherin common room or otherwise occupied elsewhere.
He stopped beside Grey having dinner with Hayden and Ballard, ignoring how absurd it was that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin were sitting at the Hufflepuff table. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see their mouths drop open but refused to acknowledge them. Grey's head swiveled toward him and then looked up. Surprise leapt into her eyes.
"I need to speak to you," he ground out, recalling how she had once asked him this very thing on his side of the room. His friends had surely made her feel as unwelcome as hers were making him feel, but he had also been unwelcoming that day, had rejected her. It was possible she could reject him right back. "Privately," he added, steeling himself for whatever happened next.
It wasn't in Grey's character to be cruel, but their interactions had been limited to just the two of them. He had no idea what she might be like when grouped with her friends, and he was positive they hated him. What influence on her did they have? Would she feel pressured to ignore him? And what would he do if she did?
Draco knew exactly what he would do. He would spit out something cruel. He would walk away from her forever. He would not apologize, beg forgiveness, or ask for a second chance. This was his one and only attempt to publicly fall on his sword for her. So, if she rejected him, he—
"Sure," she said, disarming him. He was so tense, so ready for a fight that he could only blink in surprise as she murmured to her friends and slid off the bench.
Draco glanced back at Hayden and Ballard as Grey moved to his side. They were glaring at him. He grinned and gently pressed his hand to Grey's back, guiding her toward the exit. He heard a rustling sound as Ballard murmured, "That son of a—" before Hayden stopped her from whatever foolish thing she was about to do.
They exited the Great Hall and found a quiet corner by the entrance, secluded enough for privacy but visible enough for passersby to witness their interaction. Draco remained alert for approaching footsteps, needing to time his gift perfectly.
"What is it?" Grey asked when he didn't immediately speak.
"Going home tomorrow?" he asked, stalling. She nodded. "Plans?"
She hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering, "Uncle is insisting that I attend a Christmas function…"
Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets to feel for the jewelry box and looked away, scanning the hallways for students headed in their direction. She shuffled anxiously. He knew how his behavior must look to her—like he was angry—and that was the point. To keep her guessing.
"I don't want to go," she added. Draco offered a single nod. "Do you have plans?"
"None that I'm aware of," he replied. He didn't want to tell her he wasn't going home, didn't want her to ask why.
"Will we—" She paused, bit her lip, and twisted her fingers together. "I mean, we probably won't see each other over the holiday."
He eyed her. "My mother won't be throwing any parties, if that's what you're asking."
She nodded, keeping her gaze lowered. "Of course, I didn't think she would. I suppose I just hope that she's well."
Footsteps snagged his attention and Draco glanced over her shoulder to see a couple of Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff heading toward them. Perfect.
"As well as can be expected," he told her then fished the jewelry box out of his pocket. "Since I won't see you at Christmas…" He opened his palm and offered her the box. Her eyes grew big as galleons, her lips parted in a silent gasp, and, to his horror, she did not reach to take it. He hadn't anticipated her not taking it. "It's from my mother," he said tightly, feeling his lip beginning to curl, but he resisted the sneer. They had an audience, after all.
Grey carefully took the box and opened it. A ballet of emotion danced across her face, curiosity to surprise to recognition followed shortly by realization that crashed into sorrow that almost immediately became joy. There were tears in her eyes as her free hand lifted, thin fingers trembling as she touched the opal pendant.
"My mother's moon-drop," she whispered. "I only saw it in pictures."
"Apparently she gave it to my mother," he said then, with a shrug, added, "She didn't say why."
"And now your mother is passing it to me." Her lips pursed as her face tightened with tearful gratitude. "I'm so grateful…"
"She wanted to give it to you last Christmas." When she looked up at him in surprise, he clarified, "Wanted me to give it to you. I'm sure you can figure out why."
Grey slowly nodded in understanding. Then suddenly her brow wrinkled as though she were struck by some curious thought. "But you didn't."
He scoffed, glancing around. "It was too far," he said, noting the students gawking at them. "If I had given you that, they would have married us by graduation." He returned his gaze to Grey. "Besides, something so sentimental might have given you the wrong idea."
"But you're giving it to me now."
"Obviously."
"You no longer think I'll get the wrong idea?"
If it was a question of interpreting his feelings as romantic, it was no longer possible for her to get the wrong idea, though he was beginning to think she would never see him as anything more than a friend.
"Did you?" he asked instead, and she smiled. "I didn't think so," he snorted, rolling his eyes.
Grey's smile widened before she abruptly hugged him. Draco froze, scanning the empty vicinity over the top of her head. A whiff of her shampoo speared his nostrils and he clenched the fist still in a pocket, allowing the other to barely touch her, his fingers skimming her upper arm. A gift of jewelry was one thing, but this public display of affection… If others saw, there would be no way to deny it or casually misdirect later.
"Thank you," she murmured. "This means more to me than I can ever convey." She pulled back and looked up at him, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn't read. "Merry Christmas, Draco." She smiled again, cupped the jewelry box against her chest, and started to go before turning back around. "Would you like to sit down? The pie looks delicious."
He snorted. "With you and the other half-blood misfits? I'd rather eat another one of your magical scones." He had other plans, anyway. He was going to sneak into Slughorn's stores while he was hosting his stupid Slug Club Christmas party. "Besides, Ballard looked ready to duel me in there. Don't think we'd make it through dessert."
She opened her mouth to say something but quickly snapped it closed and nodded as if in agreement with his assessment. "Then, I'll see you next year."
Next year. For a moment, two weeks seemed so much longer than they really were. The words reminded him of what was at stake, of the price of failure. The clock was ticking.
Grey frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he lied.
"You looked like you just thought of something terrible," she pressed.
"I did." He grimaced, realizing that he would have to go two whole weeks without her to distract him. Even just the sight of her was enough to make him feel something other than pressure and stress and fear, whether it was desire or fury. "I might actually miss you," he admitted like it was a bad taste in his mouth.
Her eyes widened and her brows shot up in surprise. "W-what?" she blurted.
Draco snorted in amusement. He closed the distance between them, slipped a hand onto her hip, and pressed his mouth to her ear. "Merry Christmas, Amaris."
And then he left without a single glance back.
Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. November 1st, I learned of a death in my family, and it was very hard to think of anything else for awhile. It might take me a little longer to fully settle back in, but I promise that I will finish this story. Thank you all for sticking with me.
