Hi everyone! I had way too much fun writing this chapter, so I hope you like it. Review please!

November all too quickly morphed into December, with longer nights and temperatures reaching record lows for Britain. Hermione found herself ducking behind a snow fort in the precious hours of sunlight they were stealing from the day. Ron giggled across the garden as Hannah leapt up from their hiding spot to whip another snowball towards Hermione's head. Her reflexes weren't quite as lucky this time and she felt a shock of cold hit the back of her neck.

Harry held his stomach from laughter as she danced across the snow-covered grass to tackle Ron into a heap on the pile of ammo he and Hannah had stored. Ginny took the opportunity to pelt her boyfriend's back with her mostly ice 'snow' balls. Hermione, Ron, and Hannah – who had now teamed up to form an unstoppable army – rushed to Ginny's aid and the Boy Who Lived was quickly rolling around on the ground laughing as he continually took snow to the face. They had placed charms on the garden so that no one truly felt wet from the snow melting upon contact. Hermione wondered why wizard-kind couldn't extend just one kindness to muggles and lend them the charm.

Fred and George, who had been too busy striking one another with snow now ran over to join in on the assault. All too quickly, Theo and Luna, Padma, and even Dean – who had been reserved for months – were sprinting outside, eager to feel the ecstasy the war had been ruthlessly stealing. Hermione felt like her cheeks would burst from the smile stretching across her face. After another hour of frozen toes and chapped lips, the entire group headed inside for some much needed hot cocoa. She couldn't help thinking, as they stepped into the house, it would have been an even happier day if a certain blonde had been beside her.

There were times he truly wished the bloody wards the Order put up to keep him in, also kept the surrounding sounds out. Her laugh bubbled up from the window and he felt drunk from its melody. The entire golden crew seemed to be having a battle to the death in the mound of snow he'd watched fall the night before. He imagined the way her friends must have been able to touch her, an arm around the shoulders, a playful nudge in the back, all effortless. He longed to reach through the window and wipe away the snow from her face, he was almost sure she would definitely be losing in a snowball fight between the rest of the youngest members of the Order.

She had spent every night for the past few weeks with him, in the library. He'd learned her favorite color was purple, yet she always seemed to be wearing something green. She had a sarcastic response neatly prepared for every retort he tried to throw and she slightly snored when she slept. Every new piece of information about her felt like he was sailing out farther and farther from the coast of familiarity, of comfort. Yet, instead of fear, exhilaration pumped through his veins with each new fact becoming precious cargo he stored away in his mind. In his more realistic moments he blamed it on Stockholm syndrome, but he felt a deep rumble in his conscience every time he tried to accept that accusation.

About an hour after the laughter had ceased, he heard her knock on the door and tried to squash the excitement building in his stomach. What had become of him?

"I brought you some hot cocoa, we were all drinking some after spending time out in the snow and I thought about how much you'd enjoy a cup too." She was beaming pure delight as she set down his lunch and the mug with steam rising out of its top. "We made some pancakes too so I brought those for your lunch, but I can get something else if you'd like?"

He was struggling not to smile at her flushed cheeks, wide smile, and bright eyes. She had brought up a large dish of syrup and butter to go with the pancakes and marshmallows dotted the top of the hot cocoa. He smiled despite himself and took the plate off of his side table. "No, these are perfect."

She made a contented hum and then marched over to the door that connected to the library. "I wanted to decorate the library a bit if you don't mind?"

"Decorate?"

"For Christmas! It's only two weeks away and it is my absolute favorite day of the year."

"I think I'll stay here with my pancakes, since I am at the unfortunate disadvantage of hanging garland with my hands and not with my wand." Her smile faltered for the briefest of moments at the mention of his wand before she turned back towards the library. He bit into one of the fluffiest pancakes he'd ever had while mentally filing away her favorite holiday into what had easily become the softest and most embarrassing part of his brain.

A few hours later she brought dinner and they both retreated to the library. This had become their routine, chatting and researching over full stomachs and peaceful attitudes. He didn't have the heart to tell her that once she fell asleep, and he covered her up with the throw blanket on the couch, it was not burn remedies and wards he read up on. It was wandless magic. Every night he practiced and every night he got slightly closer to perfecting the soothing charm on his dark mark. She had been finding better and more effective charms to help ease the pain, but so far he could only manage the one she'd originally tried that lasted an hour. A rough start, but a start nonetheless.

The betrayal seeped into his bones, making him feel heavy with guilt. But the possibility of seeing his mother and rescuing her, made it all worth it. Underneath twinkling fairy lights and Christmas wreath's, he flexed his arm again and again as the sensation of ice flowed through the burning of his mark.

Thanks to her charms, the skin had been able to heal, only showing itself as slightly red around the edges of the tattoo. She shifted on the couch where he had placed a blanket over her twenty minutes earlier. Her eyes fluttered in a dream and a soft snore sounded out of her throat. He smiled fondly even as the burning returned with the loss of his concentration.

She seemed to be getting visibly upset in her dream, with quiet moans now interrupting the snores. Upset – or possibly excited? He'd never been the most honest man in the world, but even he couldn't lie and deny the thoughts of her that had flowed through his mind. At first, he'd been disgusted and tried desperately to push them away. But as their nights in the library continued, so did the thoughts. And his eagerness to diminish them began to dwindle.

He felt the hair on his arms stand on end as she whispered out his name in her sleep. It didn't sound like the kind of dreams he'd had of her in the past few weeks, it sounded fond, it sounded like coming home. The guilt of his wandless magic now felt like an anchor, dragging him down into her depths.

She awoke at almost four in the morning, wrapped up in the blanket he always used to cover her. Snow was falling silently out the window and his chair was empty, but his light remained lit. She blushed at the memory of her dream, it had been innocent, merely cuddling between a couple. The embarrassing aspect was who the couple had been, who she had been fondly curled up next to. She hadn't meant to begin viewing him in a new light, especially after their spat in October. But the moment he'd talked her down from her panic attack, something had shifted in her resolve.

It had now reached the point that she looked forward to their nights in the library. Luna and Theo gave her knowing smiles every time she ascended the steps to his room, but she had been trying to ignore the know-it-all's. As much as she'd tried to avoid it, she felt drunk on the discovery of who Draco Malfoy was. The sweeter the food, the more he enjoyed it, and the gloomier the day, the happier he seemed to be. He took his tea with milk, no sugar, and he absentmindedly hummed tunes to himself when he thought she was already asleep.

As much as he had tried to hide it, she'd also caught on to his attempts at wandless magic. Attempts at Accio, and soothing charms that actually seemed to be working. Perhaps it was foolish, but she wasn't overly concerned seeing as the wards around his room ensured that whether a person was magical or not, they could not apparate away. Her heart felt slightly guilty at the fact that after having discovered his attempts, she had spoken to Harry about extending the wards throughout Grimmauld place. Now, only a small corner in the infirmary allowed visitors to apparate inside the house. She trusted him, she truly did, but her logic outweighed her feelings. Feelings she was still keen to avoid and deny.

What baffled her more than anything was what he intended to do with his magic. The more they spoke, the more clear it became that he did not want to return to Voldemort's side. He despised the man, and seemed unwilling to continue in the belief system the Death Eater's enforced. Her intuition told her that he was guided by his devotion to the people he cared most about, most likely his family. Every time she thought of his father she wanted to vomit or spit fire, possibly both. Perhaps if she could show him what it meant to have non-toxic people to surround yourself with?

A strangled groan came from his open door and she was immediately off the couch and running towards the darkness, wand in hand. He was laying on his bed with a large gash down his left arm.

"Oh, Draco!" She leapt on top of the bed and held his arm gently in her hands, "What did you do?"

Shame, resentment, and surprise painted themselves across his face. "I was just, it's nothing." He tried to pull him arm away from her, "I thought you were asleep."

"I woke up. What did you do?" She was already waving her wand across his arm and stitching up the gash. It was a superficial cut, but the blood had nearly emptied her stomach.

"It's none of your business." He was cold and closed off, inching away from her to the other side of the bed. She inched closer to him, unwilling to let go of his arm where the blood was being cleaned away by her wand.

"Oh don't pull that shit with me. I woke up to you bleeding out in your room from a cut that we both know wasn't made by a blade."

His eyes widened, "You know."

"Of course I know you bloody idiot! Remember the whole 'smartest witch of her age'?"

He drew the next conclusion before she had to confirm it, "You haven't told them?" He had stopped trying to pull his arm away from her, and without realizing, came closer to where she sat in the bed. He realized with sudden clarity that she trusted him, and again grasped that this was a feeling he had not felt in years. Trust. It shone out of her eyes in the dim moonlight from his window as he felt it settle into his stomach and make its home in his heart.

She moved her hand up from his arm to cup his cheek, "you should be allowed to soothe your own pain and summon your own possessions. You shouldn't be a prisoner." He sat up and grabbed at her arm, pulling her into him and against his chest. His scent filled her senses as she nuzzled into him, every logical part of her body screaming 'wrong' and yet she could not deny the blissful warmth that settled into her chest as his arms came to cradle her. It was the same heat she had felt weeks ago when he'd held her during her panic attack.

"Thank you." He breathed into her hair. All pretenses of logic and reality had thrown themselves out the window the moment he pulled her towards him. Was he really so desperate for human contact that he was encouraging her to nuzzle into his chest? Was that who he had become? Seven months with the Order was all it had taken to crack him. She looked up at him and for a moment he saw what they could be. And then he remembered his family, his friends, what he needed to get back to, who he needed to save.

"Well I'm all fixed up now Granger, I didn't cut my chest too. Don't know why you seem determined to search for some hidden treasure in there, didn't peg you as the gold digger type."

She swiftly pulled herself out of his arms, as though she had been burned. "I don't know how to break it to you Malfoy, but the war effort doesn't exactly bring in the big bucks." Her walls were back up and he saw it in the newfound tension in her shoulders. She jumped off the bed and made her way to the door, yawning "try not to kill yourself summoning your razor in the morning. I'd like to sleep in."

"No one should have to eat Christmas dinner alone."

"'Mione your heart is in the right place, but let's think realistically here." Ron looked at Hannah who was nodding in agreement with her boyfriend. Which Hermione didn't find entirely fair since the girl would probably follow him over a cliff and vice versa.

"He is NOT coming." Dean looked ready to burst at the end of the table.

"He's only going to cause problems, as much as I'd love to give him a chance, who has he proven himself to?" Theo remarked.

"He's proven himself to me."

"He called you a – well you know what he called you!" Padma roared.

"Yes I do have a vocabulary and a memory, thank you Padma." Hermione replied coolly.

"Has he even expressed interest in it?"

Hermione looked over at Harry who was trying desperately to be the mediator, "well, I hadn't asked him yet. I didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing."

"He wants to?" Ginny raised a skeptical brow.

"Is no one remembering he killed Seamus?"

"He was forced to, we have been through this so many times it's not even funny, Dean."

"That doesn't make it okay though." Neville piped up.

"Forgiveness is a virtue, of which many of you severely lack." Luna shot a cold look towards the end of the table with Dean, Padma, and Neville.

"Look," Harry rubbed his temples in frustration, "we're the only ones who live here full time, so I think it's important we take this all to a vote because I don't want people to feel uncomfortable at their own Christmas dinner."

"Oh that's hardly fair," Hermione interjected, "Theo and I are the only ones who even regularly talk to him. Of course no one else is going to vote in his favor. He hasn't left that room since August. August! This is ridiculous. We don't even question him anymore, the least we can do is extend a courtesy on a day of love, celebration, and forgiveness."

"She has a point." Hannah agreed. Ron slightly nodded his head in support.

"Our courtesy was sparing his life."

"Careful Dean, next time you look in the mirror I'm not sure if you'll recognize yourself." Theo snapped. "We claim not to be the monsters, and I think the best way to live up to that is to show hospitality. Not saying it'll go well, he can be a sarcastic git, but at the end of the day, Hermione is right."

"The majority of the Order is coming here for Christmas dinner too, you think they're going to be fine with this?" Ginny posed a genuine concern. "I hate the guy, but as Hermione pointed out, I don't really know him. So I understand giving him a chance. But I want you to picture my dad, who despises the Malfoy's, sitting down and eating a meal with Draco Malfoy."

"Well, I mean the younger members usually eat separately anyways." Harry shrugged.

"I say he joins." Luna smiled brightly, "Hermione mentioned the wards had been extended anyways, so there really isn't any harm done."

"You've all lost your fucking minds." Dean threw his hands up in defeat and angrily strode out of the room, whipping the door shut behind him. Padma gave a sympathetic look around at her friends before following him out, in a much quieter fashion.

"So I guess it's settled," Harry clapped his hands together, "Hermione, he better be polite."

"I can almost assure he won't be." Theo laughed.

"Great."

"If you don't want it, I understand. But well, it's Christmas and everyone deserves a present on Christmas." The cloth she held out to him felt like silk, but had the look of cotton. He was at a genuine loss for words, every version of 'thank you' feeling too insignificant. Hermione had woken him up Christmas morning with his breakfast and a neatly wrapped present. Upon opening it, he found a forest green cloth that she embedded with the charm to soothe his burning mark.

"Granger." He took the cloth from her hand, "Thank you. Truly, this is amazing."

She smiled faintly while helping him wrap it around his arm. Instant relief flooded his face as he let out a low breath. "I have another gift as well. Kind of."

"What is it?"

"You get to join us at Christmas dinner." Her smile held anxiety as he began to frown.

"Christmas dinner? With the Order of the Phoenix? Me? Draco Malfoy?" The more he considered it, the more ridiculous it sounded. A surprised laugh burst from his stomach and once he started, he couldn't stop. He was nearly moved to tears as she tried to speak over him to no avail.

"It will only be with the younger members, we usually sit separately anyways because the main table can't fit everyone."

"Oh yeah, cause they're such fans of me."

"They've already agreed. We discussed it a few days ago."

Something about the fact that he had been discussed without him knowing the wiser made him uncomfortable. He knew how that Dean kid felt about him, and to be fair, he didn't blame him. "Why do you want me there Granger? They all hate me, and to be honest I'm not exactly their biggest fan either."

"That's because you don't know them, and they don't know you. You're all so hell bent on these old school rivalries and sides of war that you haven't taken the time to consider that where your differences end, there are even more similarities." She looked at her feet, "And I want you there. I…I like it when you're around."

He raised a brow in surprise. The honesty hadn't been expected in the slightest, but it made the side of him that got drunk off of her laughter roar in approval. "Well it would be nice to leave this room, I suppose."

Her face was beaming as she jumped to hug him. Before his logic could protest, his hands were engulfing her and his face was pressed into her hair. It was intoxicating, touching her. "This will be great! I can come up to get you once everything is ready!"

"I am not making small talk with them, just so we're clear."

"Are you going to talk at all?"

"Well I'll gladly offer up an insult or two, it'll go swimmingly." She rolled her eyes as she pulled away from him and walked out the door.

The playful chatter in the sitting room ceased as soon as his foot stepped into the doorway. Potter sat at the head of the table, with the two youngest Weasley's on either side of him. To his surprise, Theo sat next to Ginny and was holding hands with Luna. A girl he somewhat recognized from Hogwarts sat beside Ron.

Dean pushed himself up from the table and he stared daggers at Draco, "Excuse me. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Aw poor Thomas, didn't anyone tell you not to overdo it with the Christmas cookies? They're supposed to be for Santa." Pure ice slipped off of Draco's tongue as he locked eyes with Dean. The latter stepped forward but Padma put an arm up and dragged him out of the room. Hermione sighed behind him and Theo put his head in his hands.

"Well this should be a fun meal." Harry said awkwardly, "Please Malfoy, take a seat."

"Draco, you can sit next to me and Luna." Hermione grabbed his arm and gently guided him towards his seat. The use of his first name and the fact she was touching him was not lost on the rest of the table. Ginny's face turned a deep shade of red and Ron's jaw slightly dropped. Theo and Luna were smirking behind their napkins, exchanging a knowing glance.

After they'd settled at the table and began eating, Hermione did everything in her power to stimulate conversation. Eventually, it began to flow, but it felt like he was a rock in the middle of a river, everything flowed all while going around him. The only time he spoke was when she addressed him. Finally, Potter looked directly at him.

"So Malfoy, have you always enjoyed Christmas? I know I can't get Hermione to shut up about it." The rest of the table laughed as Hermione shrugged her arms in agreement.

"I'm not a big holiday person myself."

"Why is that?" Harry looked genuinely confused as Draco met Theo's eyes. Theo knew what Draco's childhood consisted of. He knew damn well that while every other kid got presents and love on holidays, he hid in his room listening to his parents fight. He received presents, but usually only had the house elves for company while he opened them. Later in the evening, his mother would always join him, smiling through the tears and fresh bruises, peppering kisses on his head even as he got older and tried to protest them.

"When you already have more money than half of England, they become a bit unnecessary don't you think?" He smirked to hide the memories playing in his eyes. Both Ron and Ginny irritably scowled.

"I've always thought the best part of a holiday was spending it with the people you love." Hermione commented. Draco shrugged and caught a look of sadness from her. He struggled not to roll his eyes, the last thing he needed was pity.

"Well, I'm very glad you've joined us tonight Draco," Luna smiled at him, "I hope we can show you what holiday's mean to us." He was oddly touched by her sentiment and for once, did not have a sarcastic retort. He nodded silently and the conversation once again began to flow – this time washing over him in waves throughout the night.

It was the most he had ever heard Hermione laugh, whether it was from a joke Ron made or a story Harry brought up, she was the picture of joy. And it looked marvelous on her. He caught himself almost staring at her as she spoke animatedly with her friends, the anxiety he'd seen all too often in her posture was absent. It didn't hurt that every time someone addressed him, she grasped his hand in silent support. Her touch kept his sarcasm at bay, only letting it slip every other time he spoke.

She wasn't the only one though, every person at the table was blissful. Second and third helpings were passed around, anecdotes and inside jokes weaved their way into every conversation, and warmth spread from the fireplace in the corner all the way into his chest. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be in a family. A real, genuine family. It terrified him to realize he suddenly understood why Theo had become a turncoat all that time ago. One taste of this, anyone was bound to get addicted.

"I'm so glad you came with. I think it went well." Hermione was closing his door behind them as she set his leftover dessert onto his desk.

"Well no one tried to kill me, so that's a start."

"I wouldn't count out Dean just yet." It was a morbid statement and yet they both laughed. "You didn't have to be a git to him."

"Ahh Granger, one day you will realize that my retorts are one of my finest qualities."

She chuckled and headed for the library as he eagerly followed. He'd been practicing his wandless magic all day after she'd left him that morning. And he was finally willing to test his luck. "I got you a very small present."

Her hair whipped around as she turned in shock to look at him. "What? No. I don't need anything, you didn't have to get me anything."

"Well to be honest, I hadn't planned on it. But then you gave me that cloth this morning and I wanted to show my gratitude. Close your eyes."

She eyed him suspiciously before obeying and closing them, a soft smile still playing on her lips. With all of the strength he could muster, he pictured a winter wonderland. Christmas decorations and snow men and evergreen trees began to appear all around them. His breath fanned out visibly in front of his face as small snowflakes began to fall. She opened her eyes as one melted onto her nose and her face became a memory he would forever hold onto. She spun in wonder to look around at the library, which had been transformed into the most blatant display of Christmas he'd ever seen.

"I know it's nothing compared to what you did, I don't have much to work with since I'm kind of being held captive and all that. But I looked up some spells this afternoon. It'll only last an hour." She was still ogling the surroundings and had yet to answer him. "But so help me god Granger if you try and throw any of this bloody snow at me, it will be a fight to the death."

A giggle tore through her as she flung herself at him in a tight hug. "It's beautiful. It's perfect." He smiled down at her, and just like that night two weeks ago, he imagined what they could be. He saw passion and happiness and sincere care in her eyes. He saw what could be the best or worst thing to have ever happened to him, he was still unsure which it was.

She stared right back at him and pressed her body against his as he cupped her cheek. Snowflakes fell between them and dusted her lashes. "Draco." She whispered his name, the same way she had in the many dreams and thoughts he'd had of her in the past month or so.

"Ah hell." He whispered back. Reality be damned. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers, a surprised gasp filling his mouth. He'd brought the temperature of the room down to match the snow, but his body was on fire. It felt like every snowflake was melting around him, it felt like pure bliss.

Ahhhh I've been waiting to write this part for so long. Sorry for the slight tease at the end. I really hope people like this chapter, please please review and give me feedback! They make me so happy to read. Thanks!