Hermione was once again awoken by a persistent noise resounding in her ear. Instead of birds, this time it was the heavy breathing of Draco Malfoy, asleep beside her, gripping her hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

She didn't even remember closing her eyes.

But she did remember feeling safe and warm, feeling cherished and admired as Draco had listened to her read, laughing in all the right places and making snarky commentary at everyone's decisions. It had felt so natural, as if she had been reading with him beside her for years. As if he had not mocked and belittled her passion not long ago. But that was all in the past.

All that mattered at that very moment was extricating herself from Draco without waking him up and getting something to eat, since it was...

Nearly seven at night, Hermione noted, the clock having changed around to the moon, surrounded by silvery stars, sparkling like polished steel in the low light.

Hermione sat up. Someone had used the edge of the blanket as a bookmark. Narcissa. So she must have seen them. She hoped she knew that they'd only been reading, that nothing untoward had transpired. She hoped she was doing okay, that her fight with Lucius had not dimmed that spark Hermione had learned to respect and admire and cherished.

She didn't want to let go of Draco's hand. But she had to. She had no idea what possessed her to do so, but she kissed their joined hands before she pulled away.

Hermione left the room without looking back. She found Narcissa in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea. "I made you some pasta. It was the most non-threatening and generally liked dish I could think of, since I'm not that well versed in your dinner preferences," Narcissa explained.

"No, no, this is fine. I love pasta, actually. And you put peas in it," Hermione reassured her with a smile, getting a bowl and a large spoon from the cutlery drawer.

The two sat in companionable silence, Hermione lost in thought as she placed her bowl in the sink. Hands braced behind her, she turned to face Narcissa.

"I know it probably isn't my place to pry, but I wanted to make sure that you were alright. Lucius said some terrible things."

As she'd read to Draco, she'd still been able to hear Lucius's booming baritone, the acid in his voice as he spat such hateful things about Narcissa, how she wasn't raising their son properly, was letting him disrespect the Malfoy name to get back at him for whatever reason he had concocted.

"Thank you, dear, but I'm quite fine. I'm afraid to say that that wasn't out first fight, and it will most certainly not be our last. But it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. You should be focusing on recovering yourself. And maybe getting payback at Me Weasley."

Hermione frowned. "Narcissa, you know I'm not that kind of person. I can't begrudge Ron is opinion or beliefs. I still hurt him, and I can't take that hurt away from him by making him angry, otherwise it will only be used against me later. The best 'payback' I can get is not letting it affect my life or my friendship with Draco."

Narcissa put down her cup on its saucer. She hated rings on furniture, Hermione knew. "About that," she began, but before she could finish her sentence, the door if the kitchen flew open, revealing a smiling Andromeda Tonks and baby Teddy.


Draco was awoken by a perculiar feeling. It was like a lack of something, as if he'd gone to sleep and lost something. Draco rolled over, expecting to meet the other side of his pillow. Instead, he ended up with a mouth full of tassels and a square object digging into his midsection. He was familiar with it's shape from many nights falling asleep reading: a book was digging into him.

Draco opened his eyes.

He wasn't in his room, he was in a tent. The tent, and Hermione was no longer beside him, but he could still feel the warmth if her all along one side, like he'd been curled up beside a fire.

Draco scrubbed at his face. He needed to pull himself together. They were just friends, and he would get a handle on these damn feelings even if it killed him, because he was not the kind of wizard to take advantage of someone when they were in a vulnerable emotional state, or any state, really. She was his best friend first, anything else second. Even if, when she'd fallen asleep against his chest, voice still echoing in his ear, it had been like a lock clicking into place, a final piece of some grand puzzle. Like he'd been searching for a home and had just found it, her heart beating into his chest.

Merlin, what had she done to him?

The Slytherin Prince, made into a hopeless, romantic fool.

It didn't bother him as much as it likely should.

Draco checked the clock. It was just gone seven, so he could still get something to eat and maybe start on his homework schedule. Using the note she'd given him as a bookmark -since he knew Hermione would hate for it to be left without one- Draco slotted the parchment in and stood, neck freaking from the awkward angle he'd slept, and left the book on her bed.

Draco made a stop in his own room, quickly pulling on a grey jumper to combat the evening's sudden chill, and made his way to the kitchen.

Draco heard a laugh, one he didn't recognize. Cautiously, he opened the door. He only knew the woman from her picture on the family tree.

"Hello, Aunt Andromeda."


"Hello, Draco. It's good to see you," said Andromeda, seated at the table besides Narcissa. Side by side, the two looked so alike it was startling, Hermione thought as she sat across from them.

Draco leaned in the space beside her but didn't sit.

"It's good to see you too," was all he said.

"I know you may have questions," his mother began.

"I certainly do," Draco said, voice heated.

"Draco," Narcissa warned.

"Don't 'Draco' me, mother. Were you going to tell me about this, or were you simply going to let her show up and expect me to be all fine and dandy with it? Why didn't you tell me? Did you not trust me enough not to tell father, was that it? As if I'd ever sell you out to him! Tell me, what was the reason!" he demanded, chest heaving.

Hermione moved her hand but Draco shit away from her, backing up into the door. Hermione flinched but let him.

"Draco, that's not fair. Yes, I have been corresponding with Andromeda, and yes, she has come to visit me a few times. But only recently. After that first conversation with your father, I needed someone to talk to, an adult, and I missed my sister. It had nothing to do with not trusting you, not at all, so get that out if your head. But I also didn't want Lucius to use it against you if he found out. So I haven't made our renewed relationship known. I did not even tell Hermione until last week."

Draco turned to her, and the hurt and betrayal and anger and guilt in his eyes was like a physical blow. She would rather he had hit her; physical pain she could block out, but not this.

"Right, well, that settles it. I'll just leave you to have tea and conspire and keep things from me, don't let me interrupt," Draco said, not even trying to dilute the bitterness in his voice.

Draco grabbed the pasta bowl, a spoon, and left, not before kicking the door closed with a bang Hermione seemed to feel in her bones.

Andromeda put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's okay, Cissy. He just needs time to think."

"I shouldn't have let him find out in such a way," Narcissa lamented.

A cry from the other room broke the silence. All three witches turned at once, but it was Hermione who rose from her seat. "I'll get him; I think you need some time to talk."

Hermione followed the noise to the other sitting room, this one smaller yet more lightly lit. Teddy Lupin was sitting up in his crib, looking at Hermione with wide, tear-filled eyes. Poor baby.

Hermione knelt down beside him, smiling as he tried to grab at her hair through the bars.

"Hey, little guy," she said softly. "What's up with you?"

As if he could understand her, Teddy moved his hand through the bars, waving at her.

"Oh, I see. You just wanted someone to sit with you? Well, I'd be happy to. Lord knows I don't want to be in the middle of whatever conversation is going on in the kitchen."

With the utmost care, Hermione picked Teddy up, shifting his weight so that he balanced on her hip. She'd babysat kids in her neighborhood a few times, and she remembered that you had to support the head and that they liked to be bounced sometimes, but that was about it. So Hermione sat with her back to the crib, Teddy resting in her arms. He swung his arms about, trying to indicate to one of the plethora of soft toys Andromeda had brought with her. This one was a bunny with soft ears, a blue jacket and a yellow waistcoat. Flicking her wand, Hermione murmured, "Wingardium Leviosa," and the toy sailed into her awaiting palm. Hermione stuck her wand through her ponytail, not wanting Teddy to get ahold of it and start wreaking havock.

Hermione bounced the bunny up and down, emitting delighted squeals from Teddy. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as she thought.

After about five minutes, Teddy started to fidget, so she set him down, giving him some space. Then his cheeks started to glow apple-red and he started to cry, tears streaming down his face. Oh, Merlin.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Hermione consoled. She'd heard countless stories from her parents about baby Hermione and teething, how it was the only time she used to cry. Hermione whirled around, desperate for something to distract him, since she didn't want to risk using a spell to try and stop the pain due to his age. Hermione came up empty, so she leaned over the crib, gripping his tiny hand in her left.

"Hey, Teddy, look at this," Hermione said, and opened her right palm. Quiet fireworks went off in the air around them, dancing over her outstretched hand. Blues and pinks and greens and reds, Teddy's hair changing colour to match. He started to smile, but it only made him cry harder.

Hermione stopped the fireworks. This called for drastic measures.

Hermione picked Teddy up, head tucked safely in the crook of her neck.

She hadn't heard this song since she was eleven, but she knew every word as if they were branded into her brain, her heart.

"There's a saying old, says that love is blind

Still we're often told, seek and ye shall find

So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind

Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet

He's the big affair I cannot forget

Only man I ever think of with regret

I'd like to add his initial to my monogram

Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see

I hope that he, turns out to be..."

"Someone who'll watch over me."

Hermione turned her head. There Draco stood -or more accurately, leaned; honestly, was the man allergic to just standing?- arms folded over his chest, an unreadable expression marring his features.

"I didn't realize you knew that," Hermione stated, somewhat pointlessly.

"You'd be surprised what I know, Granger. Also, that song may not be solely Muggle-orientated, is all I'm saying."

"I shouldn't be surprised," she replied.

The two stood there, unsure of how to proceed.

Teddy had started to relax in her arms but his crying returned in full force, breaking the silence between them like a hammer on glass.

"Do you want a hand?" Draco asked, coming to stand beside her, concerned.

"Sure," Hermione said warily; she didn't know if he even liked children.

"Okay, pass him here."

She did as asked, amazed to see Teddy quieten somewhat. Poor boy must have been exhausted, she thought.

"Hi, Teddy, I'm Draco; it's nice to finally meet you."

Teddy hit him on the nose.

"I'm starting to see a pattern here," Draco remarked dryly.

Hermione didn't know what to say to that.

"Keep going."

"Pardon?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The song, Granger. Keep going; it'll help him fall asleep. Hopefully he'll feel better when he wakes up."

"Right. Of course."

Hermione cleared her throat.

No sound came out.

"Nervous, Granger?" he teased gently.

"Yes," Hermione replied without preamble. "I don't song in front of other people. Ever. I'm not some lovey-dovey princess bemoaning the fact that she hasn't ridden off into the sunset on the back of some prince's white palfrey yet. But I don't want Teddy to be in pain."

Hermione came closer, close enough that she could see the flecks of grey in his eyes.

"Here goes...

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood

I know I could, always be good

To one who'll watch over me

Although he may not be the man some

Girls think of as handsome

To my heart he carries the key

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me..."

"Someone to watch over me," Draco sang the last line with her, gaze never wavering from his baby cousin.

He had a beautiful voice, Hermione had to admit.

Draco put Teddy back in his crib, who was now fast asleep.

"You're really good with him," Hermione remarked.

He didn't answer right away, just tucked in the blanket so that Teddy wouldn't get cold, brushing the hair from his forehead.

"I've had experience, surprisingly," he eventually explained. "At parties, I always got put in the corner with the other Pureblood children. A few times, I've had to calm some little ones down when they got upset because it was past their bedtime but their parents were too busy gossiping and getting drunk to notice. I never used to mind though."

Hermione had never thought of that, of what it must be like for those children who had to watch as their parents partied and gossiped and sniped at each other behind their carefully crafted masks. It must have been lonely.

She hadn't even realized she'd voiced the thought aloud until Draco replied, "It was."

Hermione drew closer to him, a hands breadth away.

"Listen, Draco, about earlier. I wanted to apologize-"

"There's really no need," he interrupted her, waving her apology away as if it was a pesky cobweb. "I was out of line and didn't mean to act in such a way. It was only..."

"Only that you didn't expect for me to take your mother's side over yours," she finished for him.

Draco sighed, a long exhale that warmed her hair. "Yes. And no. I'm glad you took her side, that you're close. My mother deserves to have someone like you in her corner. And I know you were only doing what you thought would be the best outcome for me, and I appreciate that, I do. And in all likelihood, I would have probably worried about how it would affect things with my father, and also about simply meeting her, after everything she's been through. After everything i've been through. However, I would have liked to have know before she walked in the door and dropped something like that in my lap. I don't like secrets. Merlin knows my life has been ruined by enough of them."

Hermione nodded. "I understand, Draco, and for what it's worth, I am sorry. About how this turned out. After everything you've done for me, I only wanted you to have one less thing to worry about, to deal with. But it seems my plan backfired." She chuckled hollowly.

Draco hooked his finger under her chin. "Hermione," he rasped. "Hermione, look at me."

So she did.

"I'm not Ron, I'm not Harry. You don't need to protect me from the world, or keep things from me that you think will hurt me. I can take whatever you throw at me with a grin and a smart remark. You've been so strong, for so long. But you don't have to do that with me. It baffles me that you care that much about my mental and emotional stability, bit it's not your job to look after me all the time, otherwise there won't be time for us to actually be friends," he said with a sweet smile.

"But you look after me all the time," Hermione objected. "Why is it different for me when I do it for you?"

Draco's eyes flickered and she could have sworn he sighed in exasperation.

"Because it just is."

"Fine," Hermione replied, letting it go.

Although it would probably inflate his ego, she told him, "You have a lovely voice."

Draco smirked and dropped her chin. "I known. I used to be quite musical, once upon a time. I even used to play the piano, after my mother insisted I should take lessons. Said it would look impressive, and teach me the value of art and such."

"Well, I was impressed," Hermione said, stifling a yawn.

But like a dog on a trail, Draco noticed it instantly. "You should get some rest," he told her.

"I'm fine," Hermione insisted. "What if Teddy wakes up? Your mother and aunt are no doubt still in the kitchen."

"They're in the living room, putting up decorations for tomorrow. I went in and had a talk with them before I came in, in case you were worried. My mother always warned about leaving arguments unresolved, and I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I hadn't apologized and explained myself. It's not their fault."

"How very mature of you," Hermione drawled, sitting down with her legs out in front of her, back to the crib. She gave Draco a look that dared him to comment, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Indeed."

He came to sit on her other side, the mirror opposite of their earlier position, with her on his right instead of his left.

"What do you want for Christmas?" she asked into the dark.

"A unicorn."

Hermione puffed out a laugh.

"I'm serious. Unicorns are cool."

"I always wanted a unicorn, when I was little," she admitted to him in her sleepy haze. "They seems like they'd make good and nobel companions on a quest. But really, Draco, what do you want?" she asked him, eyes closing.

She may have heard him say, "Nothing, Granger, I've already got everything I need," but that could have been her imagination.


It was nearly midnight, and Hermione was out like a light beside him.

He hadn't noticed an hour before when Andromeda had looked in on the two of them, thinking of someone long gone, and of nights she had spent just like that with them. He hadn't noticed her check in on Teddy, or drape a blanket across the two dozing teenagers.

But he did notice when it started to snow. Just a few flakes that melted almost instantly as they hit the glass, but it was still nice to see.

He put a hand to Hermione's shoulder, trying to rouse her: he didn't want her sleeping on the cold hard floor all night.

"Hermione."

No answer.

"Hermione."

She didn't even notice. She merely let her head slump onto his shoulder.

"Merlin, you'll be the death of me," he sighed as he got up, slouching off a blanket he didn't even remember getting. He turned to check on Teddy, but the baby wasn't there, meaning Andromeda must have taken him at some point.

As delicately as he could, he picked Hermione up into his arms, careful not to poke himself in the eye with her wand, which she'd thrust through her hair. She'd get root damage if she carried on like that.

Draco walked her through the doorway, footsteps soft on the stairs.

He nudged her door open with his foot, laying her on the bed and pulling back the covers.

Draco untangled her wand from her hair and placed it on the nightstand.

He unlaced her shoes, putting them on the floor by her trunk so that she didn't wake up and trip over them.

The tent was still up.

He should have left, should have let her sleep and gone to his own room to do the same. But he couldn't. He stroked the hair away from her forehead, as he had done with Teddy, but he lingered on her cheek.

He shouldn't be doing this.

So Draco retreated, but not before he said, "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

In his haste, of course he didn't hear her say, "Merry Christmas, Draco."


Author's Note: Hello, hello! I'm so sorry you had to wait this long for an update: my tablet and internet decided to act up all week. At the same time. Because why not? Anyway, I hope you're all doing well, that you've got summer plans to look forward to. I haven't written try next chapter yet, because I wanted to get some feedback. Would you rather see a Theo alone at Christmas chapter next or a Blaise having an awkward and equally lonely Christmas chapter next instead?

Please let me know!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it wasn't too cliché. The song, of course, is not my own and all rights go to George and Ira Gershwin. If any of you are wondering, yes, I did choose it because of the Lucifer season five black and white episode, at a friend's request. I was originally thinking Somewhere Over the Rainbow, but with Narnia already in the mix, I wanted to do something different.

Until next time.

All my love, Temperance Cain.