A/N: It's finally December and everyone's favorite couple is steadily moving along! Hope everyone enjoys this chapter; don't forget to leave a review telling me what you think! As always, I appreciate the response I got to chapter twelve, so onto thirteen!
Hermione, wandering the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, was feeling content with her progress with Draco. The past week had been spent in relatively light spirits as the two continued researching, not yet ready to begin re-tampering with the cabinet. On top of that, they had finally finished reading the text, and now only had to write an essay on Hogwarts. While spending the day in Hogsmeade, her thoughts danced from Draco to the cabinet and finally settled on Ron and Lavender.
Harry, accompanied by Ron and Lavender (the second of which Hermione still wasn't speaking to) had stopped for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks.
Although she had been invited, Hermione wanted to take advantage of the weekend trip to do some Christmas shopping as it was already the first of December.
She had found an updated copy of Quidditch Through the Ages as well as a broom polishing set for Harry, which she knew he needed as she had heard him complaining to Dean Thomas about earlier that year. For Ron, however, she wasn't quite sure what to get, let alone if she should get him anything at all.
Settling on a Chudley Cannons poster, she figured that, in the grand scheme of things, Ron's relationship with Lavender wasn't that big of a deal. She had picked out small gifts, like perfume and candies for some of her friends she wasn't as close with, like Ginny and Luna before leaving Honeydukes. She was about to head over to the Three Broomsticks to talk with her friends but paused, feeling as though she was forgetting something.
When she remembered that Draco would likely be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, with no company, she frowned. As much as she'd hate to spend money on a gift he would likely mock her for buying, she wanted to propel their relationship a bit further.
She entered the same bookstore she had purchased the dreaded book discussing the consequences of the ghastly spell she had been placed under, in search of something for Draco. When she found herself in the stationary section of the store, she decided on a gift, something she hoped he would like.
When she was completely finished with her Christmas shopping, she remembered the upcoming Christmas party. Figuring she should probably buy a dress, as the only formal outfit she had brought to Hogwarts was more of a summery dress, she stopped at Gladrags.
Holding three bags, she analyzed her limited choices. Gladrags, notorious for its strangely patterned fabrics and oddly fitted clothes, held a very low number of dresses Hermione could imagine herself wearing. Sighing, she settled on a light pink dress that was casual enough to show she wasn't a complete stickler for rules, but modest enough to keep Cormac out of her metaphorical pants.
When she was finished with her shopping, which she was not a fan of doing, she joined Harry, Ron and Lavender for a butterbeer.
Unsurprisingly and much to Hermione's annoyance, Ron and Lavender were holding hands, staring at each other with lust-filled eyes and occasionally whispering sweet-nothings to the other.
Harry looked completely miserable. His facial expression changed from disgusted to angry depending on if he was looking at Ron and Lavender, sitting across from him, or Ginny and Dean, tucked away in a little corner.
He looked very relieved to see Hermione, and exclaimed, "Hermione! Er, waiter, another Butterbeer."
"With-" Hermione began to add.
"With a pinch of ginger, please," Harry finished for her, not forgetting her preference with the drink. "Thank you."
The waiter quickly returned with her drink, and she nodded her thanks as Harry implored her to stay. Ron had glanced up at her but didn't say anything, quickly returning his attention to Lavender.
Watching them, Hermione took back what she had decided while Christmas shopping. The fact that Ron and Lavender were dating did annoy her, and the fact that Ron was ignoring her after he was the one to make a mistake only added fuel to the flames.
"So, Harry," Hermione said, pretending the couple across from them weren't there, "Have you thought about who you are asking to Slughorn's Christmas party?"
Harry glanced at Ginny, tucked away in a booth with Dean, before replying, "No. I don't know if I even plan on inviting anyone."
Hermione smiled knowingly as Harry blushed.
"Not Romilda Vane?" Hermione asked teasingly, knowing Harry's uncomfortableness about her obsession with him.
"Definitely not Romilda. What about you, Hermione?"
"Oh," Hermione grinned, thinking of Ron's reaction to Cormac, "I think certain people will find my guest intriguing."
Ron heard this and frowned, undoubtedly recalling her near invitation to him before his relationship with Lavender began. "Who are you inviting?"
Hermione's lips curled into a wry smile and she taunted, "Oh, you'll see."
Ron scoffed and stood up, taking Lavender with him to go order something.
"Cormac McLaggen," she confessed to Harry once Ron was out of earshot. "That's who I'm taking."
Harry nearly choked on his drink, "Tell me you're joking, Hermione! Are you trying to kill Ron? No, are you trying to kill yourself?"
Hermione laughed lightly, "He asked me, and I was going to say no, but then Ron started being an ass and I don't know? I feel like it's fair for me to go on one date with Cormac if Ron gets to be so open with his relationship."
"Merlin," Harry exhaled, "I suppose that you're right but really? Cormac? Do you plan on listening to him brag about keeping all night long?"
Hermione sighed, "I guess. I don't know; I regret saying yes, but when I see Ron and Lavender as they ignore me, I can't help it!"
Harry nodded understandingly, "You like him. That's natural."
"A month ago? Yes. But now? I don't know. I'm realizing how childish he's being. The only reason he kissed Lavender was that Ginny told him I snogged Krum and then adding all of our minuscule fights from the year on top of that… It just kind of showed me how different we are."
Harry raised an eyebrow, expecting a blush and no response, not an actual confession. "Oh. I do think Ron does like you, though. Even though he's currently," Harry glanced toward Ron and Lavender, "snogging Lavender."
Hermione smiled at her dear friend, "If he does have feelings for me, I think I'm too proud to even consider addressing them. I don't know. I think all of our fights this year can serve as evidence of our differences."
Harry shrugged, "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens."
"I guess," she sighed.
"No," Hermione corrected Draco when she met him the next day to help him with the Cabinet and begin drafting the essay. "That would be gross."
Draco rolled his eyes, drawling "Come on. As if you haven't even entertained the thought of you and Potter ending up together? I'm pretty sure the whole damn school is expecting that."
Hermione laughed, "I'm serious! Harry's like a brother to me, anything romantic would be," she shuddered, not finishing her thought. "While we're on the topic, what about you and Pansy Parkinson?"
"Pansy can be a bit... " he trailed off, in search of the right word.
"Crazy? Rude? Annoying?" Hermione supplied, earning her a small stinging hex from Draco.
"I was going for obsessive and intense, but I suppose she could fit into those words as well. I mean, as nice as it is to have someone worship your every move," (Hermione scoffed), "That's what I have Crabbe and Goyle for."
"So," Hermione leaned forward, drawing her knees to her chest with intrigue, "Who are your friends, then? If Pansy's your stalker and Crabbe and Goyle are your henchmen?"
Draco winced, "I suppose Blaise and Theo, as annoying as they are. Don't tell them that."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "As if I would talk to Blaise Zabini or Theodore Nott. The former of which made it perfectly plain to me that he didn't like me very much when I had to venture into the Slytherin common room for patrols, while the latter was snogging Romilda Vane in the corridors during patrols."
Draco smirked, "They're bloody annoying."
Hermione smiled slightly, "For once, I agree."
Draco stood up from his seat on the couch and walked over to inspect the inside of the cabinet. While examining the interior of the wardrobe, he remarked, "So I take it you and King Weasley aren't on the best of terms?"
"What makes you think so?"
"The glares, silent treatment, and obvious divide between the supposedly inseparable Golden Trio," he drawled sarcastically. "Shall I continue?"
Hermione sighed, placing her feet back on the ground and leaning forward to place her head in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. "It's complicated."
Draco turned to look at Hermione as if to say 'And?'
"Okay," Hermione reluctantly began explaining. "I suppose it's not really that complicated. Nothing new has happened since I saw you after our… conversation following Ron and Lavender's public snog. I don't even know if I care that Ron and Lavender are together. I'm just mad at Ron for being so childish about it all."
"Sounds like," Draco said as he stood up, closing the cabinet doors and returning to his seat, "you're just mad that Weasley isn't who you wanted him to be."
Hermione sighed, "I guess. I don't know. It would be so… convenient if he wasn't so immature right now."
"God, you Gryffindors are so pathetically stubborn," he rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, Ferret," Hermione tauntingly called him by his infamous nickname.
"Shove off, Beaver-tooth," he smirked in reply.
Hermione laughed slightly at the strangeness of it all; to think that they would have still been calling each other that had it not been for Dumbledore and Tempus Itinerantur.
"Say," she sat back up, "are you staying here for Christmas holiday?"
"Why do you care?"
"Draco," Hermione frowned, "I understand that you're under a lot of stress, but I can not keep up with your constant mood swings. If we're friends, you need to treat me like one."
"Friends with Granger," he scoffed to himself. "I thought we were acquaintances?"
Hermione shook her head, smiling at the absurdity of their conversation, "That was a month ago. I think we're kind of friends?"
"You can think that," he said sarcastically, but answered, "To answer your question, yes. I don't want to go home due to… certain guests staying at the Manor. Besides, I suppose it will be nice to see what Hogwarts is like over the break."
"I'm also staying. The chances of Ron inviting me to the Burrow-"
"An appropriate name for the hole Weasley lives in," he scoffed, earning him a glare from Hermione.
"-aren't exactly high, and I don't want to put my parents in danger," Hermione finished with a grimace.
Draco frowned, looking up at the cabinet with an angst-filled, almost remorseful stare. Hermione was about to say something, perhaps an attempt at comforting him, but stopped herself, hesitant. A quick moment of silence passed, but their understanding moment of quiet was quickly interrupted with the bell, signaling that it was lunchtime.
Hermione stood up, gathering her things, before turning toward Draco with determination. "As your friend," this caused Draco to frown slightly, "I am ordering you to come with me to lunch."
"No, Granger, I'll just make the room conjure-"
"You and I both know that the Room can't conjure food. You look miserably horrible and food would help. Let's go."
Draco mumbled something about how she was one to talk, but stood up, staring at Hermione with a curious expression before he scoffed and joined her, leaving the room behind.
Hermione, having just finished a very diligent study session in the library, was about to leave the fourth floor to check on Harry and Ron at Quidditch practice a few days following her meeting with Draco on Monday. She walked toward the staircase nearest to the Quidditch Pitch so she could check on their progress, and was happy to remember that staircase was by her favorite painting.
She walked over to the painting, looking at the melancholy girl staring longingly at something beyond the frame of the painting, a book in her hands and surrounded by flowers. The portrait, as far as she knew, never spoke to students passing by.
"So, this is the portrait then?" Draco Malfoy, standing in the alcove and staring out the window, approached Hermione, who hadn't noticed him.
"Oh," she blushed, "er, yes. It is. I was just heading down to the Quidditch pitch, so..."
"Is that an invitation to join you?" Draco drawled, smirking.
"Er," Hermione winced at herself, "If you'd like."
"I don't see why not. It's not as if there's anything better to do," he shrugged, walking beside her, but leaving a respectable distance between the two.
"So," Hermione began, "have you figured anything else out for Runes?"
They both knew what she meant when she said Runes, but figured it was best not to discuss Voldemort's mission in public, where the listening ears of wandering first years were alert and ready to spread gossip.
"No," he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck. The staircase suddenly began moving and they waited to see where it would take them. "I still don't understand your interest in Runes. I mean, I know you say that it's just a friend being helpful, but this particular, ah, Rune goes against everything you stand for."
With vindication, she explained, "I'm not just going to stop helping you decode the Runes because it's not something I agree with. If you didn't have help with this particular assignment, who knows how long you'd be working on translating it?"
Draco sighed, "I don't get it."
"You don't have to," Hermione replied, crossing her arms, a sullen look on her face. How she wished she could tell someone to share the burden of knowing what would have happened in an alternate universe had Tempus Itinerantur not been cast.
The staircase deposited them on the second floor, next to the main staircase near the Great Hall. Once on the first floor, Draco turned to Hermione, looking slightly unnerved.
"Look, Granger. As enjoyable as it was to walk with you," he teased sarcastically, earning him a light shove from Hermione, "I don't think we should go out to the Pitch if practice is going on."
Hermione frowned. "What? Ashamed to be seen with me in public? Even if your views have changed when you're with me, Draco, it doesn't count if you refuse to stand by them in front of-"
Draco cut her off, an alarmed expression on his pale face, "Merlin, Granger, slow down! That's not what I meant. I just didn't know if you wanted to be seen with me. I know you and the Weasel are fighting, although I honestly don't know why you care, and going to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch practice with Slytherin Draco Malfoy doesn't seem like the best idea."
Hermione felt her lips twitch up into a smile, and replied, "Sorry for lashing out on you. Honestly? I don't give a damn if Ron gets mad that I talk to you. For once, I think he could see some childish immaturity."
"Very Slytherin of you," Draco smirked. Hermione scoffed, and the two continued their walk. A few people raised an eyebrow at the strange pair walking together, seemingly amicably and in high spirits, but Hermione ignored them.
"Besides," she reminded him, "It's only the Gryffindor team and one or two on-lookers who would even notice us."
Draco pushed the door open and the cold snow swirled around them. Hermione pulled a scarf from her bag and threw it haphazardly around her neck. She closed the door behind them and the two walked out to sit on the bleachers and watch the Gryffindors practice.
"Why did you want to come?" Hermione asked, raising her voice as the wind increased. "I mean, I thought you hated Gryffindors and everything?"
"I don't know," he shrugged while they took a seat on the top row of the bleachers, "I do despise any product of the lion house, don't get me wrong."
Hermione looked pointedly at him, and he smirked, continuing, "Okay, fine. I'll stop. But, honestly, the alternative was listening to Pansy Parkinson yap about how much she'll miss the Malfoy Christmas party."
"What's it like?" Hermione asked curiously, not sure exactly how rich he really was.
"My mother goes all out when it comes to these sort of aristocratic functions, and Christmas is truly when she shines. She invites all of these Ministry families and bureaucratic snobs, and the Manor is decorated so extensively it takes her and the elves from mid November until the day of the party to decorate," his eyes were staring at the Quidditch practice, but Hermione could tell Draco was seeing something else. "Caterers from France make a four-course meal while Veela dancers and Chinese acrobats are performing all night long. Pansy, Blaise, Theo and all the other overly rich Slytherins are invited, and the party goes until the sun rises."
Hermione laughed breathily and honestly responded, "That sounds… exorbitant, to say the least. My family's Christmas is nothing like that."
"Well, what did you do?" Draco asked, leaning back against the border of the Quidditch stands.
"My family and I would visit my Grandparents on Christmas Eve. We'd sing carols before heading back home. When I was little, I'd stay up all night waiting for Santa Claus-"
"Who?" Draco asked quizzically.
"Come on! You didn't have Santa Claus?"
"Who is this man?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Well, he's this ancient man, kind of like Dumbledore, who builds presents in the North Pole with his elves all year long and then, on Christmas Eve, flies to all the children's houses and brings presents if you were good and coal if you were bad. He came through the chimney and ate milk and cookies-ridiculous, I know," Hermione shook her head, smiling as she reminisced on her childhood memories.
Draco scoffed, "Honestly, Granger, that sounds perfectly plausible. I mean, floo powder, broomsticks, time turners and house elves could have made that work."
"I- I guess you're right. Anyways, we'd wake up the next morning, open gifts, have brunch and then visit friends for the rest of the day. Nothing like the giant Malfoy party you described."
"Maybe not," he sighed, "but it sounds nice."
Hermione smiled at him, not minding the cold too much.
"Oi," a call from the pitch drew Hermione's attention toward the field. "Malfoy, you wanker!"
Ron, hovering on his broom about twenty meters away, was glaring at Draco. "Leave Hermione alone!"
Hermione stood up with indignation and marched down to the field. Draco raised an eyebrow suspiciously, and watched from the stands, not wanting to get too involved in their drama.
That's a first, Hermione scoffed to herself as she continued her angry walk to yell at Ron.
"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted at him from the ground, her hands on her hips. "Come down here right this instant!"
Ron flew down, sliding off his broom to meet her on the field. "You should be thanking me! Malfoy was obviously bothering you-"
"Bothering me?" she cried. "He's been more pleasant to me today than you have in the past month!"
"Well," Ron stuttered sheepishly, "That's not my fault."
By now, the entire team had stopped their scrimmage to watch Ron and Hermione's fight. Harry flew down to meet them, hoping to break their argument up.
"Not your fault?" she repeated, "Ron, you know perfectly well that this is-"
"Just because you can't handle the fact that I'm dating Lavender doesn't mean it's my fault!" Ron crossed his arms, his face as red as his jersey.
"That- That has nothing to do with this!" Hermione cried back.
"Oh, really? Then why are you mad?"
"Because you've been an arse to me since you started dating her and you've been ignoring me for some unknown reason!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I- well, that's-"
"Save it, Ron," Hermione said coldly as she turned over her shoulder, walking back to Hogwarts with determination. Before she made it back into the castle, a hand grabbed her wrist.
"Leave me alone, Harry. If Ron wants to act like a git-"
"Not Potter," Draco said, pulling her to face him, a crooked, sarcastic smile on his angular face. "And I'm deeply offended you would mistake me for him."
He dropped her arm and Hermione realized who it was.
"Oh. Sorry, Draco," she sighed. Noticing the Gryffindor Quidditch team watching them from the corner of their eyes, Hermione asked, "Could we go back inside? I guess watching them practice was a bad idea, even though Harry asked me to."
"Sure."
They reentered the castle together, leaving the cold wind and falling snow behind.
Hermione sighed, "Sorry about all that."
"Why are you sorry?" Draco asked quizzically. "It's not your fault your friends are idiots."
"Friend," she corrected him, "Harry has been perfectly pleasant to me."
Draco raised an eyebrow with a joking amount of skepticism, "I, for one, stand by what I said about both of them being idiots, but whatever floats your boat."
Hermione chuckled at his cruel joke before stopping herself. "I think you're rubbing off on me; usually I would scold you for making such a rude, crass joke about my friends."
Draco shrugged, "I think you could use more Malfoy-ness, in that respect. Besides, if you think that's bad, you should hear about the insults I save for Blaise and Theo."
Hermione smirked, "You're a real wanker, did you know that?"
"So I've been told," he smirked back.
The next time Hermione was in the Quidditch stands was the first weekend of December, donning a Gryffindor Scarf and holding a lion pendant at her side, given to her by a third year walking by and passing them out randomly.
Although she was now even angrier with Ron for making a scene on that past Tuesday on the Pitch, she didn't want to not support her other friends, like Ginny and Harry.
"ANOTHER GOAL MADE WEASLEY, EARNING A FEW POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR, SLYTHERIN LEADING! OH, RON, THAT IS, NOT TO BE MISTAKEN WITH HIS SMASHING SISTER GINNY-ow! Fine, Professor, I'll stop!" Smith announced.
As a hearty round of the Gryffindor version of 'Weasley Is Our King' rang out from the stands, Hermione sneered to herself.
"You alright, then, Hermione?" Seamus asked as the chorus rang out again, sitting beside her. "You look like Malfoy."
Hermione let out a strange noise, something between a laugh and a groan. "No, I'm fine, Seamus."
"Well," Dean said, standing next to his friend, "We all heard about what's happened with you, Ron, and Malfoy during Monday's practice. If you need anything, we're happy to help."
"Thanks, guys," Hermione smiled, but it felt more like a wince. When they turned away from her, she moved her attention toward a glint from a window on the tower.
Squinting to make the figure sitting in the window out, Hermione raised an eyebrow, realizing it was Draco. She glanced around, figuring no one would really care if she disappeared from the stands (she certainly wouldn't) and slipped past the cheering crowd.
Her pace quickened into a run, although she didn't know exactly what she was running for. Seeing as the match started a few minutes ago and the team didn't seem on top of their game today, she figured that she wouldn't miss much by joining Draco in the tower.
From his location on the tower, Hermione decided he must be in the Room of Requirement. She quickly walked until she made it to the door, seven floors up. I need to talk to Draco Malfoy.
A door appeared, and she slipped in, finding Draco watching the match in the room they used to work on Runes in.
"Hullo," she greeted quietly, not wanting to surprise him. "Can I watch it with you in here?"
Draco raised an eyebrow but gestured toward the ground beside him.
"Stalking me, are we now?" Draco said, watching intently as Harper dove at something but pulled up quickly.
Hermione sat parallel to the window and across from Draco. The two both had their legs pulled up to their chests as they sat on the window ledge.
"No," she rolled her eyes. "But your blonde hair was shining in my eyes from the stands and, let's face it, I'm not exactly known for liking Quidditch, am I?"
"Definitely not," he smirked.
Draco watched intently as the match continued, obviously still interested in the sport. They talked as they watched the game, and Hermione realized with a start, that Draco was rather nice looking. She remembered back to the Gryffindor's game of Shag, Marry, Avada, when Ginny seemed to agree with her choice of shagging Draco.
What the actual hell am I thinking?
Hermione did have to admit, however, that Draco looked rather nice when he wasn't sneering at first years or moping about.
Godric, that's disgusting. Snap out of it, Hermione. Absolutely not!