Hermione dropped a present on Draco's desk. 'Merry Christmas.'

The present was wrapped in glittery red paper and had three bows attached. Malfoy looked at it like it was a bomb. Her decorating choices had been made to inspire exactly that reaction, a little Christmas present for herself. They had been working together for three weeks now and had silently agreed that outright meanness was off-limits. For one, they were working alone all day in a confined space. For two, they now had mutual blackmail material against one another. Teasing was still very much allowed.

'What next? Are you going to invite me along to the Weasley Christmas shindig?'

'Of course not,' Hermione laughed. 'I don't want to spend my Christmas with you. And don't try to pull any lost puppy routines to trick me into feeling guilty. Pansy told me that the two of you have big Christmas plans at some fancy restaurant.'

Hermione settled into the sofa with a pile of books. She wasn't going to make even the pretence of work on Christmas Eve. So what if a few documents piled up in the hallway? None of them were exactly top-secret classified stuff. Malfoy had confessed to combing through the documents during his first week for anything juicy, but it seemed that anyone with volatile information was smart enough to burn it. If she couldn't do any real work for her job, she would pursue her own hobbies. She had always wanted to devote some time to researching the Wolfsbane potion thoroughly. There hadn't been any breakthroughs in the werewolf field for a long time, but Christmas was a time for miracles.

Malfoy threw one of the ribbons from the present at her to get her attention. 'Since when did you and Pansy become gossip buddies?'

Hermione shrugged. 'She warned me that if I tried to keep you prisoner, working through Christmas, she would come down to rescue you.' Pansy had actually asked Hermione to spy on Draco for her, make sure he didn't get too depressed. Having two parents in prison could really bring down a person's Christmas cheer. Hermione hadn't said yes, but she hadn't said no either.

Draco unwrapped the present, then looked at it suspiciously. He tipped the bottle from side-to-side, letting the liquid slosh around. 'What is it?'

'Eggnog. Muggle Christmas tradition.'

He looked at her askance. 'Egg?'

'It's alcoholic.'

He opened up the bottle and took a generous swig without any further questions. He screwed up his nose a little, but took a second mouthful. 'Cheers.'

'And your Christmas present to me is that you will let me do my research in peace. Or you'll end the day with antlers.' She gave him a stern look. The warning was absolutely necessary. Yesterday he had brought in some matches and proceeded to set fire to some of the extraneous notes he objected to most (press release drafts about himself), bringing out a can of soup to cook over the fire. By the time she had noticed what he was up to the bunker had already started to fill with smoke. She had used all of her water supply to douse the fire and they had been forced into the hallway for the rest of the afternoon, sitting on the floor and trading light insults. She had given him a furious lecture about fire hazards, lack of ventilation and workplace safety. He had ignored her and finished eating the soup he had rescued from the flames, complaining that she had watered it down with her ridiculous antics. Three weeks ago, the incident would have led to an all-out war. But now it was a mark of the odd camaraderie they had going that they had laughed it off by the end of the day. They got along surprisingly well when there was no one else around. In another life, they could have almost been friends. In this one she would settle for not-unfriendly colleagues.

Hermione was on her third book, Casting by the Phases of the Moon, when she heard Malfoy clear his throat. He was holding out his hand.

'What?' she said grumpily. 'Do you want lunch money? I said not to disturb me. Your Christmas present, remember?'

He smiled at her. 'I had another present in mind. How about a Christmas dance?'

She shook her head. 'You should lay off the eggnog. You're clearly delirious.' She had only had one glass, and was ever so slightly tipsy. Malfoy had drunk the rest of the bottle on his own. She went back to her book, thinking that in his drunkenness he would get distracted soon enough by some other crazy idea.

Draco pulled the book out of her hands. 'Now I have a hostage. One dance and you get your book back. It's tradition. Between my mother and Pansy I've never gone a Christmas without being forced to dance against my will at wand point. Now it's your turn. Pretend I have my wand pointed at you if it makes you feel better.'

She reached for the book, cursing his superior height. 'You're spending Christmas Eve with Pansy. Dance with her.'

'Pansy sprained her ankle and she refuses to use any medical spells on it. She read that they can ruin the posture.'

Hermione sighed. Well, Draco wasn't exactly her ideal dance partner, but she had to guess he had some talent for it, with all that Pureblood snobbery. She did kind of miss dancing. There hadn't been very much of it after the war, especially since the dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding had been interrupted so spectacularly. When they were dating Ron had claimed post-traumatic stress to get out of dancing with her. She hadn't pushed because Ron really was an awful dancer.

'Fine. One dance. For the sake of Christmas tradition.' She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up from the couch.

They started with a slow waltz. They touched lightly, with her hand on his shoulder and his on her waist, so lightly that she could barely feel it. Their clasped hands were gripping a bit tighter out of necessity, so they didn't drift apart. They moved in circles through the tiny bunker, dodging the desks and sofa with ease. There was no real music, but they were both accomplished enough dancers to move in a gentle rhythm without it. She wasn't sure who had set the rhythm, but they ended up perfectly in sync. After about a song's worth of dancing, Draco started to speed up, until he was whirling her around the room at high speed. She stepped on his feet a few times, thrown off-balance, but they just kept dancing through it. He spun her so many times she felt dizzy, glad that she hadn't consumed any more eggnog. They were twirling so fast that they overtook the imaginary rhythm, the melody and the whole song. It wasn't like flying, because she hated flying. It was like casting a spell. A flash of inspiration struck her. 'Stop,' she said, halting the dance abruptly and pulling away.

She ran to her desk for some pen and paper. 'I've just had an idea for a spell,' she explained. She scribbled down her thoughts as she put it together in her mind. She had filled a page back-to-front before she remembered Draco. He was standing right where she'd left him, watching her in amusement.

'Sorry,' she said with a grimace. 'Sometimes you just have to write something down while it's still fresh. I've been experimenting with new spells lately, and this once just seemed to spring out, fully formed. Well, almost. I've got a few foundations from other spells that I can combine and the Arithmancy seems sound, but I'm not entirely sure about the wand movements…'

'Let me see,' he said, joining her at the desk. Hermione moved to the side to make room.

Draco perused her notes. 'Impressive.'

She gave him a sideways glance. 'You're not mad? That was pretty rude of me.'

Draco took the pen out of her hand. 'Never apologise for your talent Granger, let it ruffle a few feathers. That's the fun part.' He added a few lines to the bottom of the page, his handwriting much neater than hers. 'I won't apologise for mine. There. That should work. The problem is that it needs two different wand movements. Two casters.'

As she read over the notes, she resisted the urge to jump up and down. She was feeling pretty hyped up from the eggnog, the dancing and the thinking. 'Thank you. It's perfect. We should try this. Right now.' She had tried out a few of her own spells, but nothing on this scale before.

Draco shrugged. 'A Christmas prank. Why not?'

Hermione looked underneath the filing cabinet. 'Wheels. Good. Push the other one out into the hallway.' Hermione shoved her cabinet and it slid along jerkily. She was too excited to worry about its stability. She pushed it right out the door and along the hallway until she passed the anti-magic barrier. Sometimes the Ministry's blind spots were amazing. No one could steal the files with magic from inside the bunker, but there was nothing to stop them from wandering in and grabbing a file by hand. There was very little security on the bunker, just a semi-hidden staircase from the lowest level of the Ministry and a Muggle lock that could be easily picked. She would have reported it, but if she had learnt anything from her time with Harry it was that lax security could always be useful for future adventures.

She waited for a few minutes before Draco appeared, pushing his own cabinet at a much more sedate pace. She tapped her foot impatiently. When the two cabinets were past the barrier she opened every drawer, then grabbed Draco's arm to drag him into position. She stood directly opposite him and dragged out her wand. When their wands were aligned, she gave Draco a nod. They cast the spell with their words and movements perfectly in sync, glad of the practice from the dancing.

'Volant Originem Vox!'

Hermione waved her wand in ever-growing circles, while Draco drew a line with his from the top to the bottom of each circle. It took ten circles for the spell to take form, and then a blue light erupted from each wand, colliding and then exploding into sparks. They both resisted the urge to duck from the harmless light show, wanting to see the effects of their hard work. They weren't disappointed. Thousands of papers drifted out of the cabinet drawers, bobbing in the air for a few moments as they folded themselves into a simple bird-shape with wings and a beak, before speeding off towards the exit.

Hermione felt like shouting out 'fly my pretties!' Maybe with a nice dramatic cackle. But Draco would just be hopelessly confused. Perhaps she could act out the Wizard of Oz for him later. She thought he would appreciate certain scenes. After a short pause to take it all in, Hermione and Draco ran down the corridor and up the stairs, dignity forgotten. They both squeezed through the doorway so they could see where the papers went. It was a satisfying sight. The papers that had bored them to death and sent them into existential despair were now finding their owners, attacking them gently with their makeshift beaks until they consented to read them. When every word was read, they turned back into normal inanimate paper. They ducked back into the stairwell as an alarm started blaring, announcing a lockdown of the building. They raced back to the bunker for safety, slamming the door shut behind them. Hermione scrambled through her bag for a high-grade lock mechanism she had purchased last week, and proceeded to install it on the door following the instructions she had copied down. Just because she hadn't reported the failures in security didn't mean she hadn't taken steps to rectify them herself. Without magic, most Wizards would struggle to break through any sort of complicated Muggle lock.

When she was finished she leaned her back against the door, trying to catch her breath. 'Think we should lie low for a little while?'

'Sounds like a plan.'