A/N: Written for the Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2020! Many thanks to the modmins of Hermione's Haven for hosting this fest again! It's such a fun one to do! My holiday tradition was letters to Santa, my location was Gimli, Manitoba, and my pairing was Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy.

This was a pinch-hit that I wrote in a day! So no beta, just Grammarly. All mistakes are mine. Please note this is a modern AU.

If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! You can find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff or Facebook at Shan Crochetaway. Enjoy!

Summary: Seamus is hosting his annual fancy dress Yule party.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

The Elf on the Shelf

Four Weeks Before Yule

It felt strange, sitting at this cafe, surrounded by mostly Gryffindors, and not completely hating his life. A few years ago, and Draco Malfoy would have hexed someone if they suggested he would be doing anything of the kind. But here he was, with most of his year mates from Hogwarts, living the university life at Trinity College in Dublin. He wasn't sure why they had all chosen the same university, but he had a feeling it was because it was far enough away from Hogwarts that they felt safe making new memories, and yet close enough to home that they wouldn't be too homesick.

That was his reasoning, at least. He assumed it was the same for the others. The strangest part was how in their first year, the Gryffindors as a whole, enveloped him into their group. Potter had vouched for him. Weasley grudgingly accepted him, and Granger… he sighed. Granger had offered him a small, enigmatic smile and he had fallen head over heels for her. Three years later, and his feelings hadn't changed. He didn't date. There was nobody who could live up to the Granger he had built up in his mind. Granger dated very little, which he was thankful for. He wasn't sure he could handle watching her parade beau after beau around the friend group.

One day, he would work up the courage to talk to her. Maybe. Given enough alcohol, perhaps.

"Alright, lads and ladies. It's the day you've been waiting for!" Finnigan said in his lilting Irish accent. "One for you, and for you… no peeking!" Seamus slapped Potter's hand when he held it out for Weasley to see what his piece of parchment said. "It's a surprise this year," Seamus told the group, still passing out pieces of paper. "Costumes for the annual fancy dress Yule party."

Draco frowned, looking down at his piece of paper. He had no idea what an 'Elf on the Shelf' was.

Three Weeks Before Yule

"What the hell is an 'Elf on the Shelf'?" Draco asked Potter when he finally got him alone at the college coffee shop they all seemed to practically live at. "Something Muggle, I assume?"

Potter looked startled and slid into his seat across from Draco, carefully setting down his almost overflowing cup of coffee. "Is that your costume?" he asked, giving the brew a tentative sip.

"Obviously," Draco replied with a sniff. "Do you know what it is? Or shall I go ask someone else?"

Potter smirked. "Oh, I know what it is," he said. "Here," he pulled out his phone, something Draco didn't have but had been contemplating getting. Especially since most of the Gryffindors carried one around. Potter typed a few words onto the screen and then flipped it around to show Draco. He pulled the phone out of Potter's hands and scrolled through the pictures Potter had pulled up. They were of a doll. A rather plain-looking doll with bright blue eyes, chocolatey brown hair, and dressed all in red. Like a poor imitation of one of those elves that were known for helping Muggle Santa Claus.

"What does an Elf on the Shelf do?" Draco asked, handing the phone back to Harry. The costume seemed easy enough, though it was rather boring.

"Watches over the children on a house for Santa," Harry said with a shrug. "I'd think Seamus let you off easy, with that one. All you need is a bit of red."

Draco sneered.

Two Weeks Before Yule

Hermione sighed and read the script on her piece of parchment from Seamus yet again. She had put off finding a costume because it was just so… unfeminist. That was her biggest critique.

"Why is my costume a derivative of a man's?" she asked her roommate, Pansy.

"So is mine," Pansy replied in a bored voice. "Mrs Claus… Is there even a Mrs Claus? Or was that just made up to make women happy?"

"Who knows," Hermione frowned as she tugged on the dress she had picked up earlier in the week. "Is this sufficiently 'party' enough?" she asked Pansy.

"Is it party as in have a good time? Or party as in, you partied too hard and are now a hot mess?" Pansy asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Definitely the hot mess bit," Hermione said.

"Then it's perfect," Pansy said with a small grin. "Assuming you'll do your hair and makeup to match."

"Of course," Hermione replied. "Like it wouldn't be much to make this mess look even messier," she chuckled as she fluffed her hair. "I think I got this one so that Seamus could see me in a dress."

"Undoubtedly," Pansy said with a laugh.

One Week Before Yule

"It's so plain," Draco groaned, tugging at the collar of his costume.

"It's supposed to be," Potter reminded him. "And you've nailed the look. Red trousers, red shirt, white cuffs. You even found curly-toes red shoes. You just have to change your hair—"

"The hair stays blond," Draco replied, glaring at Potter through the mirror. "It's non-negotiable."

"What about your cheeks?" Potter asked. "Look at the picture," he held his phone up for Draco. Potter was right, the Elf on the Shelf in the picture had exaggerated drawn on bright red circles on his cheeks.

"I'm not putting on any makeup," Draco said with a sniff. "This costume is bad enough."

Potter nodded, but didn't say anything else.

The Party

Before Draco was able to leave for Finnigan's party, he was accosted by Pansy.

"Potter said you needed rouge," Pansy said, barreling into Draco's flat and dumping her purse onto the counter. She dug through it for a pallet and a brush and turned to him.

"Nope, no makeup for me," Draco said, backing away.

"It's just a bit of rouge. Besides, Potter showed me the picture, you'll look adorable."

"Adorable?" Draco asked with a strangled voice. "What man wants to look adorable?"

"Don't make me hex you," Pansy warned him.

He sighed. "Fine," he bit out and ignored her triumphant smirk as she applied the powder to his face. At least his face didn't feel like it was covered in makeup. He refused to look in the mirror before leaving the flat though.

"Are you really Mrs Claus?" Draco asked, taking in Pansy's skimpy outfit.

"Listen, just because there is a Mrs in the name of my costume, doesn't mean I have to be totally frumpy," she replied with a sniff.

They made the short walk to the house Finnigan shared with Thomas. Draco was thankful that he at least was fully covered. Despite the cloak and the warming charms, Pansy still looked cold by the time they arrived. It was a bitterly chilly night and the lightest dusting of snow was beginning to fall.

Finnigan's house was warm though and soon Draco and Pansy were enjoying the party. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that every single costume at the party was paired up. There were Mr and Mrs Santa Claus, Blaise and Pansy. Mr and Mr Rudolph, Finnigan and Thomas. Mr and Mrs Frosty, Longbottom and Abbot. Mr and Mrs Grinch even, Lovegood and her newest beau that Draco couldn't' recall the name of. Potter and Ginny were dressed as Mr and Mrs Gingerbread people.

"Finnigan?" Draco asked, frowning heavily. "Who the hell is Mrs Elf on the Shelf?" he had looked through all of the party-goers and there wasn't a single other person dressed like him.

Finnigan was clearly in his cups already when he chortled and pointed across the room. Draco followed his finger to see an absolute bombshell dressed in a slinky, tight, short, sequined number. Her hair looked as if she had been doing very pleasurable things while rolling around on a mattress. Draco pulled at the collar of his costume and swallowed hard. He would know that hair anywhere. When she turned around, his jaw dropped. The dress left very little to the imagination and her makeup was smeared. He had no idea why she was dressed the way she was, but holy hell, he was here for it.

Granger spotted him, offering another one of those enigmatic smiles that he couldn't get enough of and made her way toward him. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. The way her hips moved was mesmerizing, the length of her legs in her fuck me heels had him drooling, and the sheer amount of skin she was showing gave him chills.

"Oh, it's you," Granger said when she was finally close enough they could talk without shouting.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, swallowing dryly, and trying to roll his tongue back into his mouth. She didn't know about his crush on her and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep it a secret after tonight.

She handed him a piece of parchment 'Party Barbie, Elf on the Shelf Style,' it reads. He frowned and looked up at her. "I don't get it," he said, shaking his head.

She sighed and whipped out her phone from a tiny purse dangling from her wrist. Draco was embarrassed he hadn't even noticed the purse. She types something on to the screen, and the gives him the phone. Draco scrolls through the pictures, at first, not quite understanding and then, the last picture he sees, he gets it. All of the pictures are of various Elf on the Shelf dolls in some sort of position with a female doll with huge tits. Why do Muggle toy dolls have such big breasts?

The last picture though, that's the one he is stuck on. The Elf on the Shelf doll has his head between the other dolls legs and suddenly, Draco wants that very much. Without thinking, he tapped the phone and flipped it to Granger. "That one," he said, "let's act that one out."

Granger's face reddened in embarrassment. "We don't have to act it out," she hissed to him and tucked her phone away. "Please excuse me, while I go murder Seamus."

She flipped her hair and started to stalk away, but Draco wasn't about to let her go. Not when he was suddenly feeling so emboldened. He grabbed her arm just above the elbow and gave her a yank. Probably a bit too hard, as she stumbled into him, putting her hands on his chest for balance. He didn't mind in the least, getting a handful of her curves, but judging by the look on her face, she minded very much. He was hard. He knew he was hard and he knew she could feel it when her face changed from anger, to something else, her eyes widened and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. "It wasn't a joke, Granger," Draco murmured. "I think Finnigan did me a favor here."

"What favor is that?" she asked, not pulling away from him, but standing completely still. He could feel the tension in her limbs and wanted to ease it from her, but he wasn't sure he knew how.

"I…" he trailed off, his hands smoothing her dress around her waist. He was in disbelief that she was actually here, dressed like a dream come true, and in his arms. "May have admitted during a drunken night a few months ago that I didn't find you entirely intolerable." He could feel the blush rising to his cheeks, and was grateful that it would be mostly hidden by the makeup Pansy forced on him.

"Entirely intolerable? Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she snapped at him.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, how could he be so completely stupid? She struggled in his arms and he released her, opening his eyes to see her give him a glare and then stomp away.

"Granger!" he shouted after her, before he could think too hard about it. The party still raged around them, but now they were drawing some attention.

She turned around, hands on her hips, and tapped her foot. "What?" Her voice was crisp and prim and he's pretty sure he's cocked this whole thing up.

"I may have admitted to wanting to shag you senseless," he replied with a shrug and half a smile, hoping that will be enough to charm her.

Her eyes widened, but he was wrong. She wasn't charmed at all. She stalked forward and slapped him. Then turned on her heel and left the house.

"Fuck," he muttered, staring after her and rubbing his cheek.

"Uh…" Potter said, sliding through the bodies and standing next to him. "You better go after her."

Draco realized that she hadn't grabbed a cloak on her way out and the snow was coming down heavier than before. He pushed his way past the warm, sweaty bodies dancing to whatever music Thomas had picked up and grabbed his cloak before rushing out of the house.

It was a shock to go from the warm house to the freezing temperature outside. He threw his cloak over his shoulders and looked both ways down the street, trying to spot Granger in the gathering storm.

He spotted her, just as she turned the corner, the click of her heel was faint through the falling snow and sprinted down the street after her. The snow made the cobblestones slick and he almost fell a couple of times before finally catching up to her.

"Granger," he said. Her shoulders hunched and she ignored him, speeding up her pace.

"Come on," he said. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She shrugged his arm off, but kept the cloak. And kept walking.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," Draco said. Still trying to get her to respond to him.

"I don't like being talked about," Granger hissed.

"It was in poor taste for me to admit how I feel about you while drunk," Draco agreed. "I apologize."

"How you feel about me?" Granger asked, whirling around to face him. "Shagging doesn't include feelings, Draco."

He wasn't sure she ever looked more beautiful, spitting mad, wrapped in his cloak, as the snow fell around him.

"No, but if I shagged you, it would be because I finally told you how I felt," he replied quietly, stepping closer to him.

"Finally?" she squeaked, her eyes wide again. He was coming to love that look on his face.

He nodded. "About three years ago, a band of Gryffindors adopted me at university. They were all kind, slowly inviting me to become more and more of their group. And then there was this one who just gave me the sweetest, little smile. I came to want to see that smile as much as possible. I…" he trailed off, sighing, and tucked a stray curl behind her hair. She looked like she had just emerged from someone's bed and he wanted it to be his bed she spent all her time in. "I came to live for that little smile. I was a coward," he huffed a self-deprecating laugh, "who am I kidding, I've always been a bit of a coward. I should have told you how I felt years ago. I think Finnigan was tired of watching me moon over you."

"Three years?" Hermione asked. "You've been interested for three years?"

He shrugged. "I don't date."

"I just thought you were discrete," she murmured. He stepped even closer, sliding a hand around her waist, beneath his cloak.

"I don't date because there is only one witch I'm interested in," he murmured, lowering his head until his lips hovered just above hers. "The question is, is she interested in me?"

Instead of answering, Granger pushed up on her toes and kissed him. Her lips were soft, warm, her hands wound around his neck and suddenly his arms were full of witch for the second time that night. The snow fell around them, dampening their hair and Draco was cold without his cloak, but it was still the perfect first kiss.

~Fin~