Warning: contains fluffy Christmas cheer! After this there are only two chapters left.
xSixx
It's Christmas time. Winter Holidays. A time for cheer and happiness and giving and family. It's Hermione's favorite time of year. It's when family and friends come together, when people give without expecting anything in return. It's magical without magic, and that is why she loves it; wholeheartedly and completely.
Being Hermione Granger, a creature of habit and organization, she had purchased and wrapped all of the presents on her list a month in advance. And in the weeks leading up to Christmas Day, when she would join her parents and the Weasley's at the Burrow, her excitement had started to get the best of her. She was glowing with anticipation and oozing of Christmas Cheer. Now normally her cheer and her day-to-day moods would help others get into the spirit, but this year was different. This year she had Draco Malfoy to deal with, and dealing with him proved to be easier said than done. In the last month they've formed a sort of...relationship, one that was deeper than 'nursemaid' and 'drunk-patient'; like a partnership. And while they've both agreed not to label said relationship, her friends and family (and much of the Wizarding world, calling them 'the oddest couple this side of the world has ever seen') already have. Harry and Ron still aren't particularly thrilled with the idea, but they've managed to set their differences aside and at least try to be civil with Draco, for her sake.
After the incident in Malfoy Manor, Draco had promised her that he would get rid of every drop of alcohol in his flat if it meant that she wouldn't leave him alone. She agreed, of course, and they had apparated back to his flat to do just that. He hasn't touched a bottle since. However that's not to say that he hasn't been tempted; every time they walk by a pub, every time someone offers him a drink at the restaurant, every time someone mentions it in passing. He's finally come to admit that he is an alcoholic, and that it will always be a problem-a lingering thought in the back of his mind. He told her this just last week and she'd said that it was okay as long he didn't act on it. And for a while he was okay, it didn't seem to bother him so much and she was happy for that.
For the last week, however, it seems that he's taken a few steps backwards instead of forwards. It's like as soon as it started to sink in that Christmas was just around the corner he'd started to revert back into his old ways, folding in on himself and not speaking to her. He wasn't drinking though, just brooding, and it almost made her wonder if a drink would help him cope with it. But she knows, as does he, that he won't stop at just one. She's tried everything to cheer him up, to bring out that Christmas spirit, and nothing has happened.
It's Christmas Eve now and she's got one more trick up her sleeve. She shows up at his flat with a cake in one hand, a nicely wrapped box in the other and a smile that could rival the stars, he's sure. Despite that though, he looks at her like she's crazy, and like he's bored. "What are you doing?" he asks skeptically.
"You could at least act a little happier to see me." Her voice is laced with light-hearted teasing, but there's a hint of hurt that she really hopes he doesn't notice. Which he does notice and as she walks past him inside, he leans in and places a chaste kiss on her cheek.
"I'm always happy to see you," he reassures her.
"Mmmm."
He rolls his eyes playfully, letting the door closed as he follows her further into the kitchen. She sets the box down on the table before placing the cake box on the counter. He leans against the door jam, watching as she moves around his kitchen with ease, in search of a knife.
"What's this for?"
"It's Christmas eve!" she exclaims excitedly.
He groans inwardly. "Granger I've already told you-"
"I know. I just...a cake can't hurt right? It's just cake."
"And the present?"
"Just in case..?" she offers, smiling innocently at him.
"Right.."
She sighs loudly, crossing the room towards him. She slips her arms around his neck, tilting his head down to look at her. "I wasn't gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve Draco."
"I know…"
"Then quit complaining and fetch me some plates!" She leans up, kissing his lips quickly and before he can deepen it she pulls away.
"Not fair," he groans, swatting her bum.
She tosses him a seductive smile over her shoulder. "There's more where that came from once we've eaten.."
He grins from ear to ear and rushes forward to gather two plates out of the cupboard. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye as she cuts the cake into small triangular pieces. It's his favorite flavour of course-marble chocolate. She looks sideways him, a light blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks when she sees him watching her. "What?"
"Nothing. Let's eat," he replies quickly.
Minutes later, Hermione is sitting on the counter on one side of the kitchen and Draco on the other. He's sitting with his legs hanging off the edge, while hers are curled Indian style underneath her. There a comfortable silence between them, peaceful. She breaks it, clearing her throat as she looks up at him through her eyelashes.
"So...I was thinking... I'm going to the Burrow tomorrow for dinner and I was hoping you would join me," she suggests heaitantly.
He stops chewing, looking down at his half empty plate for a moment before looking across at her. "Why?"
"It's Christmas. And...I want you to. Besides, I've already talked to Molly and she said you're more than welcome to come."
He rolls his eyes, snorting softly and he sets his plate down on the counter top before pushing himself off onto his feet. "I'm not going."
"Why?"
"Because it's a pity invite Granger-"
"It's not a pity invite, I want you there," she reminds him.
"Yeah and you're the only one who does," he snaps.
"Were you not listening? Molly said-"
"'Molly said'-the only reason Molly 'said' anything is because you asked her. You asked her, knowing that I wanted nothing to do with it," he accuses her, his voice getting louder, the angrier he gets. "I don't celebrate Christmas anymore Granger-"
"You don't have to, it's just dinner," she insists stubbornly.
"Just dinner... Right, with gift exchanges and caroling," he mutters.
"Actually there won't be any carols, the Weasley's don't sing," she tells him casually, hoping to lighten the mood.
"This isn't a joke Hermione!" he yells defensively. "I told you I'm not interested and I told you why."
"Maybe that's exactly why you should come, to create new memories."
"I'm not going." He leaves her in the kitchen, speechless at the bluntness in his voice. When she finally gathers herself, she places her own plate on the counter and jumps off, following him into the living room. He's sitting on the couch with his head his hands.
"So you're not even gonna think about it?"
"No. And you shouldn't either."
"So you're just gonna spend it alone?" she asks, folding her arms across her chest.
"Yep."
"Draco-"
"I'm not gonna go somewhere I'm not wanted, and let's face it Granger...most of the Weasley clan hate me so…"
"They don't hate you, they don't even know you-"
"And they're not going to! I'm not going, alright? End of discussion," he says sternly.
"Fine! Fine…" she trails off, looking at everything in the room except for him, not wanting to show him that she was hurt. Hurt because he won't even consider having dinner with the people she cares about. And then when she thinks about why he won't-about the true, dark reason-she feels guilty for being so selfish.
He looks at her like he wants to apologize but he doesn't quite know how, like somehow 'I'm sorry' isn't enough.
She takes a breath as she grabs her jacket off of the back of the couch. "I should go. I've got last minute things I need to do."
"Okay."
"I'll um...I'll come by after dinner tomorrow."
"You don't have to," he responds, sensing that she isn't at all happy with him.
She nods, leaning down to place a kiss to his forehead. She doesn't have to respond for him to know that she'll come by anyway.
X
When he wakes up the next morning, Christmas morning, he's cold-inside and out. It's nothing new, not really. Christmas was never a happy time-like Hermione describes-in the Malfoy household. There were gifts of course; galleons worth. And there was food; he often wondered, as a child, just how long the house elves spent cooking all of it. And his family would come over-his grandparents and his aunt, and occasionally a few of his fathers 'friends'. But there was no happiness, not in the way that Hermione seems to think there should be. And there's no warm conversation and family unity. His Christmases were normally spent listening to his parents argue, listening to sickening conversation about purebloods and Mudbloods and everything his father and grandfather would like to do with the latter. He usually just spent the day alone in his room or his father's study. So no, feeling cold and lousy and disappointed on Christmas morning was nothing out of the ordinary for Draco Malfoy.
It is different however. Because as awful as his Christmases used to be, at least he had a family to spend it with. He was alone, but he wasn't alone. This is his first Christmas without his parents, the first he's aware of anyway. Last Christmas he was confined to a cell in Azkaban and he hadn't even been keeping track of what day it was. By the time he did figure it out, it had long since passed and so the so-called holiday didn't even matter.
He spends the morning doing push-ups and sit ups and watching TV, doing everything he can to keep himself occupied. By the time noon rolls around he finds himself lying flat on his back on the floor, staring up at the yellowing ceiling. And those thoughts begin to plague his mind, those dark and angry thoughts that seem to threaten his sanity at every wrong doing; every time something goes even the littlest bit wrong. His father's voice belittling and degrading him; the same way he mirrored that behavior onto the kids at school. The Dark Lords voice ordering killings and hunting's of muggles and Mudbloods alike. And then his own voice belittling and degrading him the same way his father did, calling him a murderer and a coward. Weak. Scum. Not worthy of anything, let alone happiness (even on Christmas). He's getting thirsty. Thirsty for something hard and cold, preferably fire whiskey but just about anything else would do.
He refrains, forcing himself to stay put. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing away everything but it doesn't work. It's more than just a thirst, it's a need. A mental as well as physical need. His hands begin to shake and his forehead begins to sweat and he wants it, craves it, needs it so damn bad. It's physical to point of being painful and fuck…he needs her. He doesn't know how to do this without her. It's like she's the glue that holds him together; the only thing in this whole world that can calm him down and chase away the thoughts, the demons. She's the only thing that makes any sort of sense to him at all and fuck he was so stupid to say no to her.
He pretended he didn't notice the disappointment in her voice or the hurt in her eyes when he told her he wouldn't go to the Burrow with her. But he did see it. He felt it as though they were his own bloody feelings. Somehow, this girl has gotten to him-under his skin, in his system. He can't do anything without her anymore; he knows he's far too dependent on her. And damn it to hell if he's gonna let Weasley and Potter take her away from him.
X
Despite being surrounded by her friends and family on Christmas Day, despite the cheer and spirit floating around the Burrow, Hermione still finds herself looking out the kitchen window while helping Molly and her mother cook, hoping that she'll see that familiar head of blond hair. She knows it's silly. She knows that he flat out refused to join her, without even giving it a second thought. But a part of her thinks that he might just show up. A part of her believes that deep down he really had wanted to come but that he was just too stubborn and/or afraid to admit it.
Nobody had made a point of asking her where he was or if he was even coming when she'd showed up alone, but she could tell that everyone was wondering just that. Especially her parents.
She's pulled (rather abruptly) out of her thoughts when Ginny walks into the kitchen calling her name. "Sorry, what?"
"Um...Malfoy's here…"
"W-what? Now?" Hermione stutters, taken aback by the redheads statement.
"He's at the front door. He's looking for you. And...he called you Hermione..."
The brunette can't help but smile at the almost…disgusted look on her friends face, one that says she isn't sure she can get used to that-him calling her by her first name. "Um, excuse me." She tosses Molly and her mother an apologetic glance before following Ginny out of the kitchen and through the living room to where Draco is standing at the front door. Dressed in black trousers, a white dress shirt and a black winter coat, he looks sort of out of place amongst the older furnishings in the house. Not to mention the seriously awkward look on his face, as everyone in the room-Fred, George, Ron and Harry-are staring at him as though he's got two heads. "Hey," she greets him softly, smiling shyly at him.
"Hey, I uh...I hope it's okay I came, I just…" he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Is this normal?
"It's okay. Come in."
He nods, walking further into the room and she helps him take his jacket off before hanging it on the coat hanger by the door. "Can we talk Granger?" he whispers in her ear.
"Yes, of course." She takes his hand, hers feel hot in contrast to his cold ones, and leads up the staircase. He follows her into one of the many bedrooms the house has to offer. She turns to him, smiling softly up at him.
H: what are you doing here?
He sighs, pulling his hand out of her to run both of his over his face in a tired manner. "I was just...I was sitting around, alone, and the more I thought about it I realized you were right. I need to make new memories. The ones I have, they're...awful. Nobody should be alone on Christmas, least of all me."
"You had those thoughts again, didn't you?"
"Yeah," he admits sheepishly. "I just-I need to be here. I need to be with you, because when I'm with you...they go away."
She smiles, leaning up as she winds her arms around his neck. "I'm glad you came."
He smiles, pressing his forehead against hers lightly as his arms fall around her waist. "At least somebody is," he murmurs.
"We should probably let Molly know you're gonna stay."
"Probably…" He sighs inwardly, following her back downstairs. For the second time that day, everybody in the room stops speaking and stares at him. Hermione doesn't seem to notice, as she leads him through the living room into the kitchen, where a woman he recognizes as Molly Weasley bastes the giant turkey with a flick of her wand. There's another woman there, stirring something in a pot on the stove by hand. He doesn't recognize her, but he does recognize the brown curls-the same sort of curls he likes to twirl around his fingers late at night. Suddenly he isn't so sure about his decision to stay…
"Mum, Molly?"
Both older woman turn around, warm smiles on their faces.
"Ahh, Draco! How are you dear?" Molly asks him politely.
"I'm...fine…"
"Great, and you're staying for dinner I presume? He is staying, isn't he Hermione?"
"Yes-"
"As long as it's okay," he adds, not wanting to be rude.
"Oh honey, it's more than okay, I assure you. Ronald!" the older Weasley mother screeches her sons name loudly, suddenly.
Draco steps aside awkwardly, his left hand still clutched in Hermione's right, as Ron walks into the kitchen. He casts a quick glance in Draco's direction before turning to his mother. "Yes mum?"
"Would you set an extra spot of the table for Draco? Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes."
"Sure…"
Hermione smiles at the red headed boy, silently thanking him as he fetches another plate and more cutlery. Draco nods politely at him as he walks past them to set the table. It's a long table, with 15, now 16, seats. It's sort of overwhelming for him just looking at it, an only child used to a table set for 3-6 tops. Hermione squeezes his hand, reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. "Draco, I'd like you to meet my mother Judy Granger. My father is around here somewhere too. Mum, this is Draco...Draco Malfoy."
Judy Granger steps forward, eyeing him with a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Draco."
"The pleasure is all mine." He smiles back, extending his hand for her to shake. Imagine his surprise and absolute panic when she grabs it and pulls him into a hug, a motherly sort of hug. He looks at Hermione over her shoulder, his eyes wide with panic and shock, and she smiles at him. When Judy pulls back, she pats his cheek lightly before going back to helping Molly.
X
Aside from the lingering looks he feels on him at times, from everyone at the dining room table, Christmas dinner is rather fantastic. And entirely different from the ones he remembers as a child. There's laughter and smiles and stories of laughter and smiles. At first he feels awkward, like he's intruding on a (giant) private moment between family and friends. And then he feels awkward because while he's sitting next to Hermione, he's sitting across from Harry and Ron, and her father is sitting a few seats down and he feels extremely out of place. But as the meal drags on and the light conversations continue, he becomes less tense and uncomfortable, eventually joking around with the twin Weasley's and even Ginny. By the time the plates were empty and the table was cleared, he almost ALMOST feels like he might belong...at least some day.
Later that evening, while everyone is settled in the living room (which seems to be larger than it looks), including Draco, who is sitting in an old plush rocking chair with Hermione sitting on the arm as his hand trails absently up and down her side, Ginny disappears before returning with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a tray of glasses in the others. Draco's eyes are glued to the bottle, vaguely aware of Ginny's speech about family and friends and celebrating the people they have. Hermione is the first to notice. She clears her throat loudly, not only pulling him out of his thoughts but also gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Draco swallows the lump in his throat, shifting his position in the chair awkwardly as he runs his free hand over his face.
"Ginny…" Hermione whispers.
"Oh! Oh Merlin, I'm sorry-I didn't even realize..." She trails off, her eyes wide with recognition of her mistake as she moves her hand behind her back in a vain attempt to hide the bottle.
"It's okay-"
"No, you know what, we can drink something else," Ginny suggests.
"It's okay Ginny-" the blonde tries to insist.
"We have pumpkin juice, right mum? And um, apple cider-"
"I said it's okay!" he insists rather loudly, startling everyone in the room. "Honestly...it's fine. I just-I need some air." He removes his arm from around Hermione's hip and pushes himself to his feet before turning and walking towards the back door. He breathes in the cool, crisp winter air, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets the door close behind him. He takes deep breathes to settle his nerves and closes his eyes. Moments later he hears the door open and then close before a pair of warm arms slip around his waist.
She presses her forehead to his shoulder blade softly, breathing in his cologne. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"She forgot...they forget sometimes…"
"It's okay, I get it. They don't have to deal with it every day like I do...like you do."
"I deal with it because I want you, not because I have to," she whispers.
"I know, and that is why I love you," he murmurs. His eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth. Her arms tense around his torso; she hadn't been expecting that. To be honest neither had he. It's not like it isn't true, mind you. It is-at least it could be, to a degree. But she isn't supposed to know that; he was never supposed to say it out loud let alone think it to himself. She moves around him then, standing in front of him, looking up at him with a sort of humbled hope in her eyes. She wants the truth-to know if it's true, but he can't give her that. Not yet. Because he's fairly certain that if he would she'd run for the hills and that, he won't let happen. "I mean...you know what I mean."
She smiles although her eyes betray her. She isn't hurt, because she does know what he means, she's just...disappointed. He leans in to kiss her and that's when she notices the silver chain around his neck, disappearing beneath the fabric of his long sleeved shirt. Her gift to him: a snake shaped pendant on a silver chain, the snake representing the house he grew up in. The snake is a locket and inside is a picture of his mother. She reaches up and pulls it from out of his sweater, admiring the way it looks around his neck. "You opened it."
"Yeah, I meant to thank you. It's probably the most meaningful gift I've ever received."
She smiles, leaning up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips once more but before she can deepen it he pulls back. He reaches into the front pocket of his trousers, pulling an identical looking silver chain out. He raises his hand, holding it open for her to reveal a pendant in the shape of a bird. It's nothing extravagant or over the top, but it's beautiful. She gasps in surprise, looking at him in wonder.
"My Christmas present to you."
"Draco..."
"It was my mother's...the bird represents her desire for freedom. I want you to have it because you're spirit is free-"
"Draco I can't-"
"Please take it?" he begs softly. "You've saved me Granger...in a way nobody else could. You have set me free…"
"It's beautiful," she whispers, in awe.
"It's yours. Just say yes."
She smiles up at him, her eyes twinkling and shining with unshed tears of happiness. "Yes."
He smiles, unclasping the clasp and wrapping it around her neck. The silver bird rests on her chest between her collar bones as he does it up. And as he lets it fall, pulling her hair out to let it fall loosely around the back of her neck, the bird flutters down her chest to rest just above her breasts. He lets her hair down, resting his elbows on her shoulders as he presses a kiss to her forehead. She melts against him, burying her face into his neck as she breaths in his scent once more.
"Happy Christmas Draco."
"Happy Christmas Hermione."
Someone behind them clears their throat, causing them to pull apart. Draco looks back over his shoulder while Hermione glances around his slim figure to see Ron standing in the doorway. He looks sort of awkward and uncomfortable at the display of affection that has happened before him, but he also has a look of understanding in his light green eyes. "Uhh...we've brought out the apple cider instead."
"Thanks Ron," Hermione smiles. She kisses Draco's cheek before heading back inside, smiling at Ron on the way in.
Draco rubs the back of his neck, taking a deep breath as he turns back to the house. He looks at Ron, extending his hand. "Thanks Weasley…"
Ron looks at the blondes hand hesitantly, before shaking it. "Don't mention it."
By the time they both walk back into the living room (and after Ginny hugs him, apologizing profusely), everyone is eating pumpkin pie and sipping apple cider. He takes the piece offered to him by Molly and takes he seat next to Hermione on the floor in front of the fireplace. He places his arm behind her back, resting it on the carpeted floor, smiling when she leans into him with her head resting on his shoulder. And finally, he thinks he belongs.
Happy Christmas indeed.
Thoughts?