Out of the Room and Into the Fire

Disclaimer: His hair is black, his eyes are green. / Harry Potter's his name and he's not all he seems.

I don't own him either.

(Pretty good, eh? I think that from now on, my disclaimers will feature a 'guess who?' mini-poem. They'll be really easy, but some will be harder and for those harder ones there might even be a prize… Hmmm… not a bad idea… I'll have to think about that one…)

Presents and Passwords Part II – Christmas Day

All he could see were knives, and blood. And Hermione being crucio-ed; because of him. And now he could see her dead body, lying cold and still. And now –

Draco woke up very suddenly, sweaty and panting. For a moment he was disorientated but he soon calmed down enough to realise that his nightmare had been just that – a nightmare. About the Room. But the more Draco tried to remember, the more he forgot and very soon he was sitting on his bed, pulling open the drapes and wondering what he'd got for Christmas.

He saw the grand pile of presents at the foot of his bed and grabbed the topmost; it was from Mother. Draco unwrapped it quickly to find a pair of supple leather gloves with a green fur lining.

"Excellent!"

They were just what he'd needed, especially with winter quidditch. He was gonna kick Potter's ass this year! Just let them wait.

Next was a long thin package from Father. Please let it be a broomstick, please let it be a broomstick… What! What the hell did his father give him a cane for? As if he wanted a reputation as a stuck-up rich ponce. I mean, really. Perhaps he should give it to Madame Pomfrey, for students who might need walking support for a while. Draco laughed right out loud at the idea of Potter hobbling around with a snake-covered cane, courtesy of Draco Malfoy. Giving it to Madma Pomfrey didn't seem like such a daft idea after all…

But thinking about Potter led Draco to thinking about Hermione. He should probably give her something for Christmas. But what if she didn't give him anything? What an embarrassment! Oh well, Draco reasoned, she'd already stripped his pride from him, and he trusted her not to bite… He'd think about what to give her after breakfast. So Draco finished opening his presents and had a shower, because he was beginning to whiff a bit.

Draco was having a leisurely breakfast by himself at the Slytherin table. Other than Pansy, he was the only seventh year Slytherin and apart from Pansy the only other Slytherins who had gotten up in time for breakfast were a bunch of nabbering first years. Draco sat at the opposite end of the table to them. But as it was, he was having a leisurely breakfast of Cheerios when the Golden Trio walked in, all wearing frumpy knitted jumpers. Wierdos.

Pot and Wease stopped in the doorway to glare when they saw him, causing Hermione to almost walk into them from behind. Draco returned the boys' looks scowl for scowl, and rebelliously shoved a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth. It might have been more affective however, if he hadn't started choking on them. Ron chuckled as Harry allowed himself a wide smile at Draco's expense, which made his mood blacken even further. But then he caught Hermione's eye as he downed his pumpkin juice, and slowly he lowered his cup.

"OK?" She mouthed, and at his nod she gave him a smile and a small wave before hurrying off to sit next to Potty Potter and the Measel. Good. Nothing had changed between them then.

Or had it?

OoO

Hermione ate a hurried breakfast and left before Ron had even started his third croissant. (Harry – who did not have the ability to swallow more than a Jaffa Cake whole in one go – was still on his first slice of toast). Hermione finished quickly and left Harry and Ron discussing maroon jumpers and the superiority of Mrs Weasley's cooking (Ron was speaking with a great deal of pride). And so it was that when Draco ambled out of the hall not long after, he was pounced upon by a bushy-haired, present-wielding lunatic.

"Merry Christmas!"

"You too Hermione." They stood staring at each other for a second or so while an awkward silence stretched between them. It was finally broken by a slightly pink Hermione proffering a red and gold package, smirking slightly.

"It's not a pink t-shirt is it?" He asked warily.

"No, it's a red one with 'I LOVE POTTER' plastered across the front."

Halfway through unwrapping it Draco dropped the package as if he'd been burned, and Hermione had to catch it and hand it back to him with assurances that she knew he did not love Harry OR Ron, and that she would never dream of giving him a t-shirt that said as such. Letting the paper fall to floor, revealed to Draco was what felt like two dead mice but were in fact some thickly knitted mittens. Trouble was, he'd just got some gloves… Aw screw it.

"Thanks Hermione! They're just what I needed!" He said enthusiastically, trying on the mittens and shoving his hands in his pockets to make sure that his new gloves weren't poking out. The way her face lit up with a happy glow was worth his little white lie he decided, which led him to make another one. "I got you a present too, but it's… er…" An idea popped into his head, and Draco figured he might as well get it over and done with.

"Follow me."

Hermione was following him warily, as the corridors gradually became darker and colder. Just because she trusted him didn't mean she was stupid. They were in Slytherin territory.

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Draco mentioned something he had observed that morning.

"What was the Weasel smuggling into his mouth every time he thought you weren't looking? At breakfast." He clarified.

Hermione groaned. "I could kill him sometimes…" Draco's offer to do it for her went ignored. "He got this present for Christmas with no name saying who sent it, just the words 'Use them well'. I suspect that it's from Dumbledore but I –"

"Dumbledore favouring students? Tut tut. I must tell Father. What was the present?" Despite his sarcastic words, Draco's curiosity was peaked.

Hermione who had been glaring at him threateningly allowed her face to soften into a smile.

"Ron got a bag of lemon drops."

A loud bark of laughter was her reply and Hermione looked around startled before turning back to Draco who was slapping his thigh and giggling like he'd been hit by a tickling charm. Quite disturbing really, when you thought of the usual Slytherin Ice Prince. He looked up with incredulity.

"So Weasel got lemon drops for Christmas from an 'unknown', all-knowing wizard, with a note saying 'Use them well' and he's scoffed over half of them already? He's such a thick-skulled ponce!"

"Draco!" Hermione admonished, but secretly she agreed and her smile grew even wider. That is until Draco stopped suddenly, pushed her into a dark corner and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Half-Breeds'.

The sudden switch in Draco hurt Hermione deeply – even though she'd never admit it. She didn't understand! But comprehension dawned as the wall Draco was standing in front of slid quietly open and he slipped in behind it.

To be quite honest, it's creepy to be standing and shivering slightly from cold in a dark, unfamiliar dungeon passageway all by yourself, when hostile Slytherins could come round the corner at any moment, and would be quite willing to hex you into oblivion. Hermione was therefore was quite relieved when Draco made an appearance some ten minutes later.

"Did someone hold you up?" She asked irritably when the wall slid open again to reveal his lithe figure, holding something loosely in his hands. He shook his head in the negative.

"Nah, everyone's at breakfast. I just had a few finishing touches to add." As he said this he held out the present to her, and when she'd finished unwrapping it she almost let loose a gasp. It was beautiful.

"I figured that you love books so much… I thought you might like to write your own. It's not as if you don't have enough adventures…" Draco grinned and his eyes sparkled as Hermione slowly flipped through the blank pages – obviously impressed. He'd charmed it so that the leathery dragon skin had taken the colour of a deep rusty red rather than the serpentine green (it now reminded him of one of the dresses Hermione had worn in the Room. The one with a particularly low cut…). He'd left the golden snakes he'd transfigured earlier on the cover – he was a Slytherin, after all, and it was good to remind her of that. He'd also like to see her face when she tried to explain having a snake-covered, charmed book to Potter. He'd charmed it to be feather-light as well, you see.

Draco was admiring his handiwork (and justly so!) as Hermione's hands stroked the cover as if it was an especially tiny kitten. Or rabbit. No, scratch that thought. All bunnies must die. Thinking about horrific ways to rid the world of evil bunnies caused Draco to start when Hermione shyly pecked him on the cheek and quietly thanked him for such a lovely Christmas present. He could only reply that it was such a wonderful present because he was such a wonderful gentleman, and his clever comment earned him an amused but principally unjust whack on the arm. Draco brought himself up to his full height.

"Are you suggesting that I'm no gentleman? Because I'll have you know that I'm the most gentlemanly gentleman of the lot."

Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head in dismay. About to come up with a suitably cutting comment her arm was nearly yanked out of its socket as she was tugged around a corner and Draco pressed himself heavily against her. She tried to push him off and verbally protested, but he wouldn't budge and instead clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened with fear, and widened even further when she heard heavy slogging footsteps passing where they had been seconds before, before leaving the dark corridor and entering the Slytherin common room.

Slowly Draco removed his hand from her mouth, but stayed tightly pressed against her.

"That was close." He breathed, his breath tickling her cheek, his eyes staring at her lips. These said lips quirked upward in a smile as Hermione lifted an eyebrow.

"What was that about being a gentleman?"

Draco pushed himself away and straightened up, resuming his role as a knight in shining armour.

"But I have just rescued a damsel in distress!" He protested against any insinuation that he was less than the most perfect gentleman in the whole wide Wizarding world.

His façade dropped.

"Well, I'll be seeing you later Hermione. Merry Christmas." Flashing her a smile he started to head towards his common room again, but seeing her less than cheerful smile, and the way she glanced nervously both ways before hesitantly starting to shuffle down the corridor that lead deeper into the dungeons gave him a hint.

"But before I go, because I am the most perfect gentleman, I shall escort my lovely lady at least to the great hall, unless she should fall prey to some foul creatures of the deep."

Hermione laughed merrily as he held out his arm to her. "You are such a flirt Draco, you should be locked up and fed only breadcrumbs and water for a week." She said, while falling into the role of a Lady and gently laying her hand on his forearm.

"I shall take that as a compliment m'lady." He said, bowing over her hand, and steered her in the direction of the great hall.

The façade had dropped within seconds and both Draco and Hermione were walking with their arms firmly by their sides, except for Hermione who had one arm clutching her Christmas present. Soon they neared the great hall and had parted. Draco was just about to turn back to his common room when he heard the voices of the Pot and Wease and changed his mind, and staying to listen.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?" Potter, Draco determined.

"Oh… I, er, got held up."

"By who?" That was the Weasel.

"Er… Malfoy."

"WHAT!" That was both of them, and they sounded outraged. Hee hee! Serves her right for telling them a part-truth. If it was me, he thought, I would have lied outright.

"He, er, wanted to talk."

"And?" Potter's voice was dangerously low. Uh oh. Hee hee! Poor Hermione.

"I told him that if he tried to pull that one on me again I'd hex an 'I love Potter' t-shirt onto him and keep it there with a permanent sticking charm.

Ha ha. That would be funny… WHAT! How dare she say something like that to them? That was a LIE! A downright lie! He'd never lie to his friends like that. Never! The Pot and Wease were laughing. Oh Merlin, kill him now.

But actually, it was quite a funny idea. His face would have been hilarious. Potter's would have been if it had been the other way round… Draco grinned and chuckled softly to himself as he heard their footsteps retreating and he turned back in the direction of his common room. I love Potter. Ha. Ha ha… I love Potter. Whatever. Ha ha…

"Hey Mick." A hand slapped the wall three times with an open palm. "How are you?" The hand knocked twice on the wall with a knuckle. "My name is Pansy Parkinson, I am a seventh year Slytherin Prefect and it is my turn to change the password." She slapped on the wall three more times and it hummed with recognition. Draco was going to love the new password, Pansy had long since decided. "The new password will be the first words said after the count of three." She recited. Pansy had come back early after breakfast to make sure no one was there to say anything before she got the chance. She knocked on the wall four more times. "One." She slapped on the wall. "Two!" Mick the wall glowed slightly. "Three…" Pansy breathed in to announce clearly and loudly the new password, but never got the chance because the wall slid open and there stood her beloved Draco shaking his head.

"I love Potter!" He stated, before chuckling to himself again and shaking his head, before making his way up to his dorm room, having completelymissed Pansy.

"Done." Mick's deep voice echoed around the room and his glowing – only visible from the inside where the password had to be changed – stopped abruptly. "The new password is... 'I love Potter'." And then he became the semi-inanimate object he had once been, while Pansy clutched at her hair, fell to her knees and howled.

The Slytherins were going to kill her, and it was all Draco's fault. Oh Merlin, what will Snape say? She was dead. Oh Merlin. Slytherin's new password was 'I love Potter'. Oh Merlin. She was dead. Oh Merlin. Snape's face. Oh Merlin. Oh crap.

A/N

Hey! This is a note to say thanks to the absolutely OVERWHELMING response to the first chapter from you WONDERFUL reviewers. I was on a high for days, and I mean it! I don't think I've been so happy for quite a while.

More reviews will usually mean quicker updates, but I'm going to warn you now that as it is, updates are going to be slow. Work is consuming my life at the moment, but I will keep writing in the rare moments that I have any free time, and updates will usually be on a weekend.

But thank you for reviewing and please continue to do so. I'm a review addict, you see. Reckon we could beat 40 reviews for Presents and Passwords Part I and II? Or do you think that that's asking too much? I know… let me know in a review! Hee hee. Subtle, I know.