Hermione reluctantly extricated herself from the warm tangle of Draco's arms as soon as her alarm went off the next morning. She looked longingly at his sexily tousled blond head and half-wished that the Ministry would blow up so that she too could work from home. However, as strong as her feelings were fast becoming, there was still a deep-seated unease between them. As visibly startled as Draco had been over Kingsley's revelation the previous night, he had elected to brood silently instead of to talk to Hermione about the situation. While Hermione more than understood that not every aspect of one's life had to be shared with their friends and family, she was a firm believer that in a healthy relationship needed an open line of communication.
As she got dressed and was joined by a bleary-eyed Harry for breakfast, her mind whirred over how she could possibly make Draco more open to discussion. The other niggling worry in the back of her mind –one that she had resolutely tried to block out– was that Draco had shown no interest in wanting to be intimate with her again. Of course, it had barely been two days since their first (and second!) times, but it still didn't make sense to her how they had gone from barely being able to keep their hands off each other to, well, nothing.
"Shall we head off?" Harry interrupted, jostling her out of her morose thoughts.
"Sure," Hermione agreed pleasantly. "Just give me a minute, I'm going to Diagon Alley today with Blaise and I need to ask Narcissa if she needs me to pick up anything for Juls' birthday party."
Harry nodded, draining his pumpkin juice. "Go ahead, I'll wait for you by the Floo."
Hermione pushed her chair back and wearily got to her feet. Between the stress of the murderer, Draco, and the drama her friends seemed to be going through, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this exhausted. She walked to Narcissa and Lucius' bedroom on autopilot, all the while dreaming of running away to Mexico with her reticent husband. Just as she was about to knock on the polished mahogany doors, the sound of urgent voices coming from inside made her draw her hand back.
"Cissy, I'm telling you that it's not the right time to tell him," Lucius could be heard pleading.
"He needs to know the truth Luke," Narcissa's voice came through crisp and stern. "He's not a child any longer, but his animosity against you needs to stop. He practically accused you of hurting your grandson, for crying out loud."
"I know," Lucius sighed, and Hermione heard a chair scrape. "But my past warrants this sort of reaction."
"Oh do stop pacing, Luke," Narcissa chided. "You're making me even more agitated. I think we should tell him today itself, now that he's had some time to cool off and reflect on what happened on Sunday night. I'm sick of living with this stifling, tense atmosphere at home."
Hermione silently inched closer to the door, straining to hear Lucius' response.
"Give it some more time, Cissy," Lucius insisted, sounding defeated. "I don't like this situation any better than you do, but now is not the time to be shooting our mouths off. We've been lying to him about this since he was born, a few more days of caution won't hurt. Please."
"Fine," Narcissa's voice sounded muffled, as though she had buried her face in her husband's chest. "But we won't delay for even a second after we know its safe."
"You know, I think I rather enjoy it when you're being bossy," Lucius said huskily, and Hermione heard the unmistakable thump of his heavy silk robes hitting the carpet. "I think I should carry you back to bed so you can continue to tell me what to do."
Hermione turned on her heel and fled, feeling more disturbed by the last line of the conversation than by the fact that Draco's parents had been lying to him about something since the day he was born. It seems fitting that Karma would strike me down for eavesdropping on my in-laws like that, she thought to herself with a shudder. She managed to reach the Floo in record time and after assuring a concerned Harry that she was fine –after all, she couldn't exactly explain that she was just deeply disturbed at the thought of Narcissa dominating Lucius, Death Eater extraordinaire, in bed– they made their way over to the Ministry.
As they entered Harry and Ron's office for their usual meeting to discuss the new developments of the case, they were met with a scene of pandemonium that made the ocean of reporters from the previous day look like a harmless butterflies. The tiny office was filled with what appeared to be at least seventy snowy-white owls, all frantically flying around and bumping into each other mid-flight. Ron and Blaise were racing around –their thoroughly pecked and bleeding arms flailing madly– in the middle of the confusion, trying to capture the evasive owls in rapidly conjured cages. As soon as the owls spotted Harry, they made a beeline for his dishevelled head, hooting wildly.
"Duck!" Hermione screamed, as she threw herself on top of Harry and knocked himself to the ground.
"Go get him," Blaise yelled over the ruckus at the same time, waving three owls away from him and towards Harry with his briefcase. "He's the one you want, leave me the fuck alone."
"What the fuck?" Harry bellowed, as he crawled his way under his desk, dragging Hermione behind him.
Ron threw up a Shield charm around his torso, saving himself from a rather nasty bite just in the nick of time. "Some Saviour of the Wizarding World you are," he roared, as he swatted another vicious looking owl away from his head. "Get out from under the desk and get rid of these monsters."
"Grow some balls Potter," Blaise seconded, as he tried to get some of the frantic owls with the Impediment Jinx. "I'm your superior and this is a direct order."
"I saved Wizarding Britain!" Harry defended, casting the strongest Shield charm he knew around himself, Hermione and the desk. "I'm not getting out of this table until someone tells me what the hell is going on here. Where the fuck did these birds come from?"
"Read Witch Weekly, page eighteen," Ron panted over the angry hooting, as he abandoned his wand and brandished one of the chairs at the birds instead. "There's a copy on top of the very desk you're hiding under like a cowar–" he broke off and looked towards the desk hopefully, "say, there wouldn't happen to be any room under there?"
"Cowards, both of you," Blaise shouted, as he tackled eight or nine snowy owls away from his hair, trying to push them away without getting too close at the same time. "Don't you dare leave me to handle this alone Weasley, this is a direct order."
"Honestly," Hermione rolled her eyes, cutting off Ron's agitated response. "Get off me Harry, I'll go get the Witch Weekly and see what this is about."
With some difficulty and whining on Harry's part, Hermione managed to quickly drop the Shield charm, retrieve the magazine and throw the charm back up again before any owls managed to infiltrate their haven under the desk. The two best friends bent their heads over page eighteen, firmly ignoring the indignant pleas for help from Ron and Blaise. Hermione only made it through the first two lines of the article before she collapsed into uncontrollable giggles.
Potter: Boy-Who-Lives-For-Animals?
In a recent interview with Harry Potter, the dashing Boy-Who-Lived confessed that his greatest loss in the war was his snowy-white owl, Hedwig. After a lifetime of abandonment and losing the people he loves, Potter appears to be seeking solace in the loyalty of the animal kingdom to quench his loneliness. From an early age, Potter has found love and acceptance within the animal world where his own peers have failed him. At the age of eleven, Potter and best friend Hermione Malfoy née Granger, were caught helping a baby dragon get to safety by sending him to a dragon sanctuary in Romania on behalf of their notoriously animal-loving friend Rubeus Hagrid. At the age of twelve, Potter was discovered to have an ability to talk to snakes –one shared by He Who Shall Not Be Named. At thirteen, Potter's love for animals was even further exposed by his fearlessness around Hippogriffs and his distress when one that he was particularly close to was to be executed following a dangerous accident during Care of Magical Creatures. Former dorm-mate of Hermione Malfoy, Parvati Patil also mentioned that Potter was so upset over Malfoy's cat eating his other best friend Ronald Weasley's rat, that he did not speak to her for several weeks. It was also this year that Potter developed a strong friendship with late Werewolf Remus Lupin. During the Triwizard tournament, at the tender age of fourteen, Potter exhibited no fear towards the dangerous Hungarian Horntail and managed to successfully complete the first task. Another notable encounter with dragons was documented when Potter, Malfoy and Weasley escaped after breaking into Gringotts on the back of a dragon. The owner of the Magical Menagerie, Agatha Hilde, admitted that Potter frequently stopped by to purchase all sorts of accessories for his former girlfriend Ginevra Weasley's Pygmy Puff. Recently, he was also spotted cradling a particularly fat cockroach in a glass jar and carrying it around with him everywhere he went –the dinner table at the Leaky Cauldron included– and ensuring that his dining companion, Malfoy, was careful with his latest attempt to receive unconditional love. So there you have it ladies, the way to the heart of the sensitive, loyal and recently single Boy-Who-Lived is apparently through a string of cute animals.
"I don't believe this," Harry thundered over Hermione's laughter and the hooting owls, his face turning purple with rage. "This is the most ridiculous tripe I have ever seen written about me. It's as though they always squint really hard to purposely misread the circumstances to show whatever the most embarrassing outcome for me at any given point in time is."
"Don't be so sensitive Potter," Blaise teased, dodging a particularly insistent owl. "Or I might have to send some of these owls your way to comfort you."
"Hope they peck you right where it hurts," Harry muttered threateningly, although not loud enough for Blaise to overhear.
Hermione forced herself to stop giggling. "Awww, you're just a big old softie Harry. If you ever get lonely, you can always borrow Crookshanks off me."
"I killed Voldemort," protested Harry, giving Hermione a dark look. "Please do not call me a 'softie' ever again."
Ron brandished the chair towards the desk. "Oi, are you both going to man up and help? These owls are for you after all, Harry."
As the four of them struggled to capture the owls and stuff them into the conjured cages, Hermione reflected that even after almost four months of marriage, it was still odd to see her married name in print. It was especially odd to be referred to only by her new last name, but off-late, it had ceased to be deeply unsettling and had started to give her a slight thrill.
"I was thinking we could go out for a bit after dinner today," Hermione announced, as she set her briefcase down in the master suites.
Draco, who had been pouring over the same heavy scrolls from the previous day, looked up in surprise. "Out where?"
Hermione shrugged, as she unfastened her cloak. "Just out for a drink or something. We used to go out all the time before we got married, and we haven't done that on a weeknight in a while."
"Alright," Draco agreed suspiciously, as he put away his scrolls. "Did you want to discuss something?"
Oh yes. "No, nothing in particular," said Hermione blandly, as she ran a brush through her curls. "I just think we could both blow off some steam, besides, Harry is working late again tonight."
"Fine, we can leave after we tuck Juls in," Draco acquiesced.
They made their way down to dinner in contemplative silence. Draco was Slytherin enough to know that Hermione clearly had something on her mind, but also experienced enough with women to know that grabbing the bull by the horns would not work. They made it all the way to Julius' room without a single word, each lost in their own thoughts.
"Mummy! Daddy!" Julius abandoned his toys in a trice and raced towards his parents in a blur of robes and blond hair.
"Dinnertime, Juls," Hermione scooped him up into her arms and hugged him tightly, feeling her stress dissipate. "What did you do all day?"
Julius beamed into the crook of her neck as he played with a particularly springy curl. "Gramma and grampa were in the back gardens so daddy and I jumped on gramma's bed," Julius babbled excitedly, gesturing wildly. "I jumped so high that I was almost as tall as daddy."
"You jumped on Narcissa's bed?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.
"It was fun," Draco muttered defensively, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was stressed out."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat at how endearing he looked when he was embarrassed. Get a grip, you stupid organ."What else did you do today Juls?"
They settled around the dining table while Julius gave Hermione a detailed description of everything he had eaten that day. Draco was just settling Julius into the taller chair when Lucius and Narcissa swept in, holding hands. Apart from a particularly vicious tug at the cushions on Julius' chair, Draco gave no indication that he had noticed his father walk in. They took their seats as the food appeared, and for the first time Hermione was grateful that all the Malfoys had been raised as snobs, mainly because it gave them an excuse to ignore the awkward silence while they pretended to chew their food. Hermione had never chewed her food as thoroughly as right then, feeling oddly thankful that her teeth were in good enough condition to put up with the vigorous exercise they were getting.
"Why is everybody quiet?" Julius asked, through a mouthful of baby carrots.
"Malfoys don't talk with their mouth full," Draco replied instantly, missing the slight look of surprise and pride in Lucius' eyes.
Julius swallowed. "Why do you hate grampa, Daddy?"
Narcissa's fork clattered to the floor. "The dinner table is not the place for questions like this, Juls. Of course Draco doesn't hate grandfather. Now, please, finish your dinner."
"Grampa Malfoy?" Julius turned to Lucius. "Why don't you ever give daddy hugs? Daddy gives me hugs."
"Enough, Juls," Hermione warned, discreetly unclenching Draco's balled fist under the table, finger by finger. "Please just eat your dinner. It is rude to ask people uncomfortable questions like that."
Lucius and Draco determinedly avoided each other's eyes and as soon as the main course was done, Draco stood, excusing himself from dessert, and was immediately followed by Julius.
Hermione threw Lucius a sympathetic glance. "He's just a bit stressed out over his office repairs right now, that's all."
"There is no need to make excuses for him Miss Granger," Lucius informed her stiffly.
Narcissa pushed her still half-full plate of dessert away. "Excuse me," she said archly, rising from the table. She strode away rigidly, slamming the door in her wake.
"And then there were two," Hermione mumbled under her breath, as she surveyed Lucius from beneath her lashes. It was almost surreal to be eating raspberry sorbet while sitting opposite one of the most notorious Death Eaters of his time. Somehow, it was hard to reconcile the fact that the regal blond man elegantly devouring his dessert in front her was a hardened criminal. Suddenly, Hermione laughed wryly at the absurdity of her thoughts. After all, she herself had Stunned and hurt people, robbed a bank, impersonated more than one person, broken in, made illegal potions, hidden two wanted fugitives –Harry and Sirius–, been a wanted fugitive, stolen books, stolen food, stolen potions ingredients, blackmailed –not to mention, hidden an unregistered Animagus from the Ministry so as not to lose the aforementioned blackmail material, broken several Ministry decrees during Umbridge's reign over Hogwarts, wiped her parents' memories clean, Obliviated a Death Eater, made countless unauthorised Portkeys…
"Something amusing, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked, curiosity colouring his formal tones.
Hermione gave him a small smile. "I just realised that you and I have more in common than I previously thought, that's all. Also, please, call me Hermione. First of all, I'm not 'Miss Granger' anymore, and secondly, we are family now."
"Thank you," Lucius inclined his head gracefully. "If you would like, you may address me as Lucius."
"I will," Hermione replied, taking another bite of sorbet.
"You know, traditionally one's in-laws are addressed as mother and father respectively," Lucius pointed out conversationally. "At least, that's how it was in my day."
Hermione gave a tinkling laugh. "Well, I've broken plenty of Malfoy traditions already."
Lucius actually smiled. "As have I. I still refer to Narcissa's father as 'the miserable sod', mostly when Narcissa is out of earshot, of course."
Luckily for them the Enchanted Swan wasn't too packed, given that it was a Monday night, and a galleon got them a fairly good table towards the back of the establishment. Hermione felt herself tingle all over when Draco's silky hair brushed against her bare shoulder as he settled her into her chair, and for the umpteenth time fervently hoped that she had at least half the effect on him that he clearly had on her. She was so occupied with smoothing down her dress to cover her fluster that she completely missed Draco's eyes moving over her body hungrily as he took his own seat.
"So did you have any luck looking at rings with Blaise today?" Draco asked, as he poured them both drinks from the teapot in front of them.
Hermione leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Not really. We only managed one shop since we both had to rush back to work, but I really want the designs to match my promise and wedding ring."
"For what it's worth, I really am sorry I lost them," said Draco quietly. "I'll be more careful with these."
"You better be," Hermione teased, slapping his arm lightly. "Also, Blaise wanted me to remind you that their housewarming party is set for Saturday."
Draco cringed slightly. "That's going to be fun. I'm happy for Blaise, but poor Pans. Does she know about the party yet?"
"Blaise told me that he is sending out the invitations tomorrow," Hermione bit her lip. "I didn't know whether it was my place to warn her about it, after all, she'll know by tomorrow."
"Probably best that we don't interfere," Draco agreed. "Somehow, Blansy always ends up being volatile and we'll have to clean up the mess on both sides eventually anyways. We might as well get some peace from their issues while we can."
"Is it just me, or does Mexico sound better and better with every passing day?" Hermione groaned.
Draco winked. "Mexico will really be something when we finally go."
They sipped their drinks in companionable silence, smiling at each other. "You and Juls seem to be all good now," Hermione commented, as she refilled her drink.
"Thank Merlin for that," said Draco passionately, gulping his drink. "Fatherhood doesn't exactly come naturally to me. I don't know if I would ever forgive myself for messing Juls up in any way."
Hermione frowned at that, puzzling over his words. "Why do you say that? You're a great father, Malfoy."
"It's not easy," Draco said darkly. "If it wasn't for all the help mother puts in with Juls, I would've moved out of the Manor as soon as Lucius returned."
"I know he let you down," Hermione said circumspectly. "But that isn't any reflection on what sort of father you will be. Even Lucius, as questionable as his character can be, loves you very much. Juls is your flesh and blood, you could never do anything to harm him."
"Right," said Draco, his expression suddenly guarded. "Did you want to order some nibbles to go with the drinks?"
Hermione put down her glass. "Don't change the topic, Draco. This issue is clearly bothering you. Why do you feel that you would end up harming Juls?"
"Give it a rest, Hermione," Draco shot back exasperatedly. "Just because you have an idealistic relationship with your father doesn't mean that we all do, or that we all can."
"I do not have an idealistic relationship with my father," Hermione hissed back, anger building up inside her.
"Of course you do," said Draco impatiently, ignoring the warning signs of his wife's mounting rage. "I saw the card you sent him on his last birthday during the barbeque. On the inside, you wrote 'thank you for being my hero', how is that not idealistic? Your father never let you down, while mine was my hero when I was younger and then he got himself locked up in Azkaban, leaving me to follow the orders of a sociopath."
"What does that have to do with Juls?" Hermione persisted. "Your relationship with your father was strained because of circumstances that no longer exist."
Draco slammed his empty glass on to the table. "If my father could have left me in that position, fuck only knows how much potential I have to damage Juls."
"That doesn't even make any sense," argued Hermione vehemently.
"Look, just forget it Granger," said Draco, his grey eyes inscrutable. "I don't expect you to understand, and quite frankly I would rather do other things with you than fight, especially when you look so delectable in that dress."
Hermione felt her heart plummet to the soles of her expensive dragonskin flats. That's all I will ever mean to him, a wife that he can get with whenever he wants, she thought miserably, as a feeling of loneliness swept through her. Maybe he doesn't want to discuss the upbringing of his and Aurelia's son with me, or maybe he doesn't value me enough as an equal to open up to me? Either way, this is all we can ever get to. A superficial marriage based on lust.
"Granger?" Draco probed, looking mildly concerned. "Are you okay?"
"I'm tired," said Hermione numbly. "Let's just finish our drinks and call it a night."
They paid the bill and Apparated back to the Manor, both of them feeling confused and slightly hurt. For the life of him, Draco couldn't fathom why Hermione had reacted in such a way to a statement that he had clearly meant as a compliment. As soon as they reached the master suites, Hermione disappeared into the bathroom without another word to him. Feeling rejected, Draco quickly stripped down and put on his pajamas, all the while pondering over what he could do to resolve things.
When Hermione emerged from the bathroom, all thoughts of resolution went clean out of Draco's head. Her nightdress hugged her slim curves like a second skin, the deep crimson colour making her skin look like porcelain. She had clearly just brushed her hair out of the updo it was in at the Enchanted Swan, and it pooled around her shoulders in satiny ringlets.
"Fuck Granger," Draco breathed, taking her appearance in. "You look gorgeous."
Hermione avoided his eyes. "Thanks," she muttered, slipping under the covers.
Draco reached out for her silky limbs. "Don't thank me yet," he said in a sultry whisper.
"I'm not in the mood for this," Hermione jerked her body away from his before he had even processed the rebuke. "I just want to go to bed."
"What's the matter with you?" Draco snapped, his cheeks tinging with pink. "You haven't so much as touched me since the first time we had sex. What, was I not good enough for you or something?"
"I said no such thing," Hermione scowled, turning her back to him.
Draco aggressively pulled the covers over his bare chest. "You may not have said it, but it's obvious that you don't want to touch me with a ten foot pole. You spent half the evening lecturing me about communicating, and yet you yourself don't take your own advice. If you didn't like something, how will I work on it unless you tell me?"
"You can't possibly expect me to believe you're insecure about your performance," said Hermione acidly. "Seeing how you've slept with so many women that you can't, or won't, even give me a straight answer when I ask you."
"I can't believe you're bringing this shit up again Granger," Draco replied furiously.
Hermione angrily pummelled her pillow. "Well maybe if you actually talked about our issues instead of sweeping them under the carpet then I wouldn't have to keep revisiting things."
"Forget it," Draco spat, turning away from her back.
The next two days passed by in a blur of activity, leaving Hermione's mind reeling with exhaustion. Every day at work had been spent buried behind never-ending mounds of paperwork and her lunch hours had taken her to Harry and Ron's office to discuss the case. Draco's own office had finally been repaired on Wednesday, spurring him into a flurry of productivity in order to make up for the lost potions by the original deadlines. Harry, Ron and Blaise all sported a haunted look from too many hours in the office and not enough food or sleep.
Added to that was the fact that Pansy had finally received her invitation to Blaise and Audrey's housewarming, which had led to a particularly overindulgent night of drinking –during which they were joined by Vanessa, who was rather shaken over the death of the Azkaban guard because he had been a close friend of her boyfriend– and had left the girls hopelessly hungover on Wednesday.
The only person that didn't look overworked and physically drained was Narcissa, who swept through the Manor, hand-in-hand with Lucius, with a smile so wide that her face seemed to be in danger of cracking into two. Hermione didn't have the heart to puncture Narcissa's happiness by informing her of Kingsley's admission, and after a stilted discussion with Draco, they agreed to keep the news to themselves for the time being.
Somehow, amidst all of this, Hermione and Draco found the time to help Narcissa with the preparations for Julius' fourth birthday party, which was to be held on Friday evening. Julius, in all his nearly four-year-old wisdom, had demanded on having a Christmas theme. To keep the decorations a surprise from Julius' eager little eyes, Hermione had hidden all the decorations in her office. It felt odd to be working in an office that resembled a small forest of miniature Christmas trees the middle of April, but Hermione's tired brain glossed over the weirdness, rationalising that it would take more work to store them away properly only to have to remove them Thursday afternoon. Consequently, she received more than her fair share of odd looks from her co-workers, which she determinedly ignored.
"Thanks for agreeing to help me with these," Hermione said graciously to Blaise, Ron and Harry on Thursday afternoon. In spite of their busy schedule, they had been kind enough to help her cart the decorations back to the Manor and had even agreed to help her set up until Draco arrived home from work. Julius had been safely stowed at Andromeda's house with Narcissa until the back gardens had been set up and warded against his prying.
"It's no problem Hermione," said Blaise kindly. "Where do we begin?"
"I think we should organise all the decorations first," said Hermione thoughtfully, as she surveyed the mass of oversize candy canes, gigantic wreaths, boxes of ornaments and miniature Christmas trees. "Just so we know how many we have of each, and then we can work out where they all should go."
Ron rolled his eyes. "They're not NEWTs notes, Hermione, they're just decorations. Does it really matter?"
"I think it's a good idea," Harry said firmly, shooting Ron a look. "We can each take a pile." The last thing we need is for Hermione to have some sort of OCD breakdown if we don't do things her way.
They worked in silence for the next half hour, slowly sifting through all the decorations. Inside the boxes of ornaments that she was sorting through, Hermione discovered six oddly sinister looking nutcracker dolls. The reflection of the candlelight on their painted eyes made them look almost as though they were flickering. With a shudder, she put them aside and forced herself to focus on unpacking the bright purple streamers. Just as Hermione stood up to reach for the box of golden bells, she felt a wooden hand clamp tightly across her ankle.
"What the fuck?" she yelped, as she jerked away from the innocent-looking pile of nutcrackers.
Three heads jerked up anxiously. "Are you okay?" Harry asked, trying to work out what Hermione could've possibly seen.
"That doll just grabbed my ankle," Hermione accused wildly, pointing towards the still pile of nutcrackers.
Harry and Ron exchanged a concerned look. "Hermione," Ron began carefully. "The dolls are perfectly still. Maybe you've just been working too hard."
"I'm telling you, that doll grabbed my ankle," insisted Hermione, backing away from the stack.
"Why don't you take a short break?" Blaise suggested tactfully. "Go on, we'll keep unpacking."
Hermione stared carefully at the motionless nutcrackers. "Alright," she agreed doubtfully, setting down the box of bells. Out of the corner of her eye, she could've sworn that the topmost nutcracker winked at her. "Maybe I am just a bit tired."
Before the boys could offer her any more words of cautious sympathy, the box of bells that she had just set down on the grassy floor ripped as the bells expanded to ten times their size. The bells expanding acted as some sort of catalyst, and all the decorations started to vibrate in their boxes with a steady hum of magic. The four of them watched in horror as the heavy wreaths flew out of the box one by one and tried to lodge themselves around their necks. There was a sudden scrambling as the four of them reached for their wands while trying to escape the wreaths that seemed intent on choking them.
"Relashio!" Harry cried, repelling the wreath around his throat.
Hermione crouched behind a bench as the oversized candy canes started thumping up and down heavily, distinctly tapping out the tune to Jingle Bell Rock. "What the fuck is this?" she screamed, jerking her foot away from the path of one of the candy canes just in the nick of time. "What the hell is going on with the decorations?"
"Oh, wasn't this meant to happen?" Ron yelled sarcastically, as the snowflakes he had been unpacking started whizzing around, their sharp edges glinting like particularly menacing Fanged Frisbees.
"Make them stop!" Blaise yelped, as twenty ornamental balls started pelting his head. "Finite Incantem!"
"Impedimenta!" Hermione yelled, trying to get a clear aim at the balls. "Stupefy!"
Three of them stopped mid-air for about two seconds, before resuming their attack.
"Run!" Harry roared, as the air started to grow thick with flying ornaments.
The four of them crawled out rapidly from their hiding spots, trying to avoid the streamers that firmly coiled around their feet and attempted to drag them back towards the gardens. No matter how many Repulsion jinxes and Stunners they sent at the decorations, they never managed to stall them for more than a few seconds. It was a combination of their war-attuned reflexes and good luck that they all managed to scramble towards the door and shut it behind them. Despite the heavy Mahogany, they could feel the persistent thump of ornaments wildly attacking the doorframe, trying to break it down.
"What now?" Hermione panted,
"I have no idea," Harry admitted, wiping his brow. "They don't seem to be responding to our spells, not even Finite Incantem."
"What is going on? What are you all doing here?" Draco asked, appearing in the hallway, still dressed in his work robes. "You lot were screaming so loudly that I could hear you all through the Manor."
Ron glared at him as though he were personally responsible. "We were setting up for your son's birthday party when all the decorations went psycho."
Draco gave them all a bewildered look. "What do you mean the decorations went psycho?"
"They started flying aroun–" Hermione broke off midway through her sentence, as she caught sight of a small wooden leg disappearing into the myriad of hallways behind Draco. "Merlin! The nutcrackers came alive and are running through the Manor," she screamed hysterically, pointing in the direction the leg had disappeared.
All four boys paled and simultaneously clapped a hand over their genitalia.
"There's a thing called the nutcracker running loose in my house?" Draco exclaimed, sounding panicked.
"We need to find them," Hermione cried frantically, running past Draco. "Quick! That way!"
The boys exchanged frightened looks before taking off behind Hermione. "Just how many nutcrackers are there?" Draco asked, catching up to his wife.
"Six," Hermione groaned, as she turned into a hallway and found it deserted. "Fuck, they're not here any more."
"I hate to say this, but we should split up," Harry suggested, drawing his wand. "We'll each go a different way. Send a Patronus if any of you run into trouble."
Gripping her wand firmly in front of her, Hermione set off towards the first set of corridors to her left. She cautiously poked her head into the living room, which appeared to be deserted. Hermione Levitated the furniture in the off-chance there was a nutcracker hiding behind the sofas, but the room was completely empty. Just as she was leaving, a slight tremble of the chandelier caught her eye. Feeling a sense of foreboding, she looked up to see a nutcracker perched between two candles. The nutcracker turned its wooden head in her direction and gave her another nefarious wink.
"Stupefy," Hermione cried, trying to keep her wand hand steady.
The nutcracker swung the chandelier, not unlike the young Narcissa had, and leapt off it gracefully. Its wooden body hit the carpeted floor with a surprisingly loud thunk and it started to walk towards Hermione with slow, deliberate movements.
Hermione gulped and brandished her wand. "Impedimenta."
The nutcracker faltered for a second, almost losing its footing, but quickly regained equilibrium and resumed walking towards her.
"Stupefy!" Hermione screamed, her voice wavering.
The nutcracker's painted face bore an expression of disdain that Lucius could only dream of achieving, as the spell ricocheted off its body.
Hermione backed into the wall as the nutcracker's chest slid open to reveal a circular container loaded with golden bullets that gleamed dully in the candlelight. Barely aware of her actions, Hermione raised her wand a final time and whispered, "Avada Kedavra."
The nutcracker froze mid-step, and with a shudder, it fell against the floor completely still. Hermione watched it through numb eyes, half in shock over the spell that she had just fired from her wand. Almost on autopilot, she cast a low level lumos, eradicating the evidence. Just then, the door flew opened behind her and a frantic Harry raced into the room.
"Thank Merlin you figured it out," Harry hugged her tightly, kicking the nutcracker away with his foot. "Are you okay?"
Hermione nodded, still feeling oddly detached and numb. "I think so."
"C'mon, let's go find the others," said Harry gently, as he guided her from the living room.
They tracked down Blaise and Draco, neither of whom had managed to find any of the nutcrackers, and went off in search for Ron. After meandering through the twisting corridors for several minutes, they heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from one of the guest suites. Wands raised, the four of them charged into the room to find a wandless Ron dodging a steady stream of golden bullets.
"Avada Kedavra," Harry bellowed, catching the nutcracker's back. It doubled over as if in pain and fell to the ground, the final bullet lodging itself into the wall, mere millimetres from Ron's thigh.
Ron's pale face stood out particularly stark against the dark walls. "Thanks mate," he said shakily, peeling himself away from the wall. "I never even thought to use that. How many have we destroyed?"
"Three," Draco answered shortly. "We still have to track down the others."
"What's that noise?" Blaise frowned, indicating to the others to fall silent. Sure enough, a faint thumping sound could be heard. As the thumping got closer, Hermione identified the beats of Jingle Bell Rock.
"Oh Merlin," she whimpered, as the Knut dropped. "One of the nutcrackers must've unlocked the door. The decorations are in the Manor."
They stared at each other, dumbfounded, for a split second, before the growing thumping spurred them all into action. They scattered from the room in different directions, dodging the flying balls and snowflakes that had already made their way in. The beam of light from Hermione's wand zigzagged unsteadily as she raced down the stairs as quickly as her tired legs would carry her. She shot the killing curse three more times, managing to prevent a snowflake from slicing off her ear and causing two balls to drop down motionless just before they smashed into her face. Even though she had lived at the Manor for nearly four months, she found herself getting lost in the endless maze of carpeted hallways and empty rooms. Her heart thudded loudly as the unmistakable thump of Jingle Bell Rock started to sound clearly behind her. A panicked glance over her shoulder proved her correct, as three candy canes stomped their way towards her, gaining speed.
"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione wailed frantically, as she tried to navigate her way. The candy canes neatly thumped out of the way of her curse, their steady charge towards her unhindered. In her anxiousness to aim at the canes, Hermione failed to notice the fat coil of streamers until it had already curled its way around her ankle. She tripped blindly, landing relatively painlessly on the soft floor. Propping herself on all fours, Hermione struggled to crawl away from the canes even as the streamers tugged her body towards them. Just as she was sure she was about to get trampled, a pair of firm arms grabbed her and hoisted her to her feet, repelling the streamers.
"This way Granger," Draco whispered urgently, as he whisked her behind a wall that melted away as soon as he touched it and reformed behind them.
Hermione felt herself collapse to the floor of the small room they were in, her legs trembling. "Where are we?" she managed to ask, failing to keep the tremor out of her voice.
Draco wrapped his arms around her quivering body and drew her close to his warm chest. "One of the many secret rooms my father used to store his dark artifacts in during Ministry raids," he explained, a note of distaste in his voice. "Don't worry, the artifacts have long been cleared. Are you going to be alright?"
"I thought I was going to be trampled to death," Hermione whispered, shaking violently. "Flattened by sinister candy canes," an edge of hysteria coloured her voice, making it high-pitched. "The last thing I would've heard would've been that awful song."
"I wouldn't let that happen to you," Draco assured her, trying not to laugh. "At the very least, I would've made sure you were crushed to the tune of a song that wasn't quite so annoying."
To his shock, Hermione threw her arms around his neck, sobbing wildly into his chest. "All I could think of was that the last time we went out, we had a massive fight, and I could've died without us resolving it."
"Relax," Draco soothed, rubbing circles gently into her back. "You're fine, everything is going to be just fine."
"You don't know that," Hermione blubbered incoherently. "Someone really wants us dead, Draco. What if he succeeds?"
"Come here," said Draco, lifting her chin with his index finger. "I know for a fact that you and I are going to make it out of this alive. We're going to be just fine Hermione, and we'll end up growing old together, still arguing over stupid things because that's what we do. A stupid sociopath can't take that away from us."
Hermione's sniffled protests were silenced as Draco's lips descended down on hers, his tongue lightly massaging the inside of her mouth. She relaxed against the hard panes of his chest, her hysteria momentarily soothed by his heart-stopping kiss. As they broke apart, Draco reflected that it was a testament to how hard the past few months had been on her if a bunch of charmed Christmas decorations had led her into such a breakdown. He continued to hold her tightly, until her trembling ceased. Just when Draco thought that he'd finally soothed Hermione, her eyes pooled with tears again.
"What's wrong love?" Draco asked softly, stroking her hair.
Hermione miserably removed her arms from around his neck. "We've been so distant and short with each other since our fight. Is it always going to be like this?"
Draco felt his chest contract with guilt. "No of course not. We're doing really well considering our history and the relatively short time we've been married. I apologise for being distant with you, I suppose I'm just not used to having somebody around who wants to know what I'm thinking–"
"Somebody that isn't Aurelia you mean," Hermione cut him off.
"Aurelia?" Draco looked at her, utterly bewildered. "What do you possibly mean?"
"It's obvious that you will never love me the way you love her," Hermione mumbled, her cheeks flaming. "I always knew it, but after we slept together it really started to sting."
Draco stared at her, stunned. "Hermione, are you saying that you've been beating yourself up about Aurelia all this time?"
Hermione stared back, equally amazed. "Did you think that I would just ignore the fact that you already had a wife that you picked, that you had a son with, whose things you ran into a burning building to save?"
"Merlin," Draco muttered, slumping back against the wall in a daze. "I never thought– you should've said something sooner–" he broke off as he looked into Hermione's distressed face. "Granger, this is what my relationship with Aurelia really was like…"
Why yes, I really did just leave it at that. Don't kill me. Please.
Thank you so much to all my fantastic readers for all the love and support you have given me! It made me feel really great to read your words of advice and comfort right now. Because my updating is still slower than what it used to be, I made this chapter slightly longer than the others. (Hence, even if I wanted to I couldn't have put Aurelia's story in here!)
A few random bits of trivia: The inscription inside the card that Hermione gave her father is actually what I wrote to my own father on his Father's Day card. What can I say? I am a complete Daddy's girl! ^.^
The sinister Christmas decorations idea came to me after a particularly brutal nightmare over having to spend my first Christmas alone (I couldn't get flights to go visit my parents, unfortunately.)
Also, I really hate Jingle Bell Rock.
Thanks, as always, to all the reviewers and to the people that have added me to their alerts and favourites. I will be responding personally to your kind and supportive reviews over the next couple of days, but I just wanted to get this chapter out before my week got too busy.
Love you all and it's great to be back!