Hermione quickly pulled her hand away in embarrassment. She stepped away from Draco, feeling uncomfortable at their close proximity, under the pretence of examining their surroundings. With a jolt of surprise she realised that they were standing in the living room of her parents' house. A large Christmas tree stood in front of the bay window, decorated with red and gold baubles, a stack of perfectly wrapped presents lay underneath. Judging by the pinkish glow cast in the room through the blinds it was early morning.
"It's Christmas!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "I wonder which one though..."
She didn't have to wait long for an answer, for soon after she had spoken the living room door opened and Hermione's parents entered the room with ten year old Hermione. Her dad, wearing plaid flannel pyjamas, had his hands over Hermione's eyes and was guiding his daughter into the room. Draco chuckled at the sight of Hermione, wearing the dressing gown he had taunted her about many times. Hermione didn't have to ask what he was laughing at, she shot him a quick glare before turning her gaze back to her younger self.
"Are you ready Hermione? Should we see if Santa has paid you a visit?" her dad asked.
"Dad, I've known since I was eight that Santa doesn't exist, you do this every year!" Hermione giggled, trying to wriggle away from her dad's grip.
Hermione knew that her younger self was rolling her eyes behind her father's hands and smiled at the memory.
"What on earth is a Santa?" Draco asked, puzzled.
"Not what," Hermione replied. "Who. He's a fat jolly man that Muggle parents tell their children brings them presents every year on Christmas Eve whilst they're sleeping. Mum and Dad were so shocked when I told them I knew he wasn't real. Dad still liked to pretend, even after I started Hogwarts."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Draco replied.
"It's not ridiculous, it's great fun. I used to have to write him a list of what I wanted for Christmas, then on Christmas Eve we would leave a mince pie and glass of milk out for Santa, water and a carrot for the reindeer-"
"For the what?" Draco interrupted.
"Reindeer, they're sort of like thestrals but less scary, they pull Santa's sleigh-"
"His what?"
Draco's expression became more confused with every new piece of information Hermione gave him. By the time she had fully explained everything, ten year old Hermione and her parents had opened all of their presents and left the room.
Voices could now be heard coming from a different room, Hermione led the way to the kitchen and the source of the noise. It seemed time had skipped several hours for now Hermione and her parents were seated at the dining table, along with both sets of Hermione's grandparents, three of which were now no longer alive. Tears formed in her eyes at the sight.
"Are you crying?" Draco asked.
"Just being silly," Hermione sniffed.
"Was your mum's cooking that bad?" he smiled, trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Don't be daft. It's just, Grandad and Grandma Granger and Grandma Anderson, they died and it's just...strange seeing them again. Wonderful, but strange," she sighed.
"Sorry," Draco mumbled.
"It's okay, it's life I guess."
They continued to watch as Hermione and her family ate their turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Draco had several more questions, most of them about the 'boring prizes from the crackers'. When they were done, the family retreated into the living room and once more, time seemed to have leaped forward. When Hermione and Draco entered, her grandparents weren't there and a glance out of the window told them it was night time.
"This was always my favourite part of the day," Hermione explained to Draco. "Mum and Dad would watch Gremlins, I'd occupy myself with my presents and we'd all drink hot chocolate."
Sure enough, young Hermione was cross-legged on the floor, a book in her lap and a mug in her hand. Draco was now watching her parents and asking Hermione a new stream of questions about the television.
"Muggle Christmases are bizarre," Draco concluded.
"They're not, they're brilliant," Hermione argued. "Tell me then, what was a typical Malfoy Christmas like?"
"Well firstly-" Draco began but was interrupted by a change in their surroundings.
The living room dissolved and a new room formed around them. A huge mahogany dining table dominated the space, one that would easily sit thirty people around it. Each space was set with expensive looking silverware and tall golden goblets.
Narcissa Malfoy was slowly walking around the table examining each setting, occasionally moving a fork millimetres to the left or right.
"It seems you're about to find out exactly what a Malfoy Christmas is like Hermione," Draco said, watching his mother.
"Elf!" Narcissa yelled and with a 'crack!', a very familiar figure appeared.
"Dobby..." Hermione whispered.
"I forgot you knew him," Draco said. "He was a good elf, I didn't even know he died until Potter told me a few weeks ago..." he trailed off, his expression unreadable.
"...spent the last ten minutes fixing the cutlery," Narcissa was scolding Dobby. "I need you to collect the centrepieces from Bogdon's Bewitching Blossoms and set them out. It's a simple task that even you should manage."
"Yes Miss," Dobby replied looking at the floor before disapperating with another loud 'crack!'
The dining room door opened and Lucius strode over to his wife.
"Everything prepared?" he asked her.
"Almost. I've sent the elf to collect the centrepieces, though for all the use he is I might as well do it myself. He couldn't even manage to set the table properly."
"Stupid thing. He's almost not worth having. I'll have him punish himself tomorrow, can't have him covered in bandages in front of our guests can we?" Lucius laughed.
It took all of Hermione's strength not to make a comment about Lucius' attitude towards house elves. Thankfully a distraction arrived in the form of a young Draco coming into the room, dressed in grey silk pyjamas.
"How old are you here?" Hermione asked Draco.
"Must be about eleven. Yes, this is me in first year of Hogwarts. I stayed over the holidays in second year and I'm no older than that."
"Good morning son," Narcissa greeted Draco with a hug. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Mother. Merry Christmas Father."
"And you, Draco. Here," Lucius said handing him a small red drawstring bag.
Draco opened the bag and peered inside, he grinned as he closed it again.
"We'll go shopping before you go back to school," Narcissa said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now, off you go and get dressed, our guests will be arriving shortly."
"What was in the bag?" Hermione asked Draco.
"Money. I always got money for Christmas."
"No presents?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"No, I would buy what I wanted with the money they gave me."
Hermione said no more on the subject but once again found herself feeling sorry for Draco.
As with Hermione's Christmas Day memories, time kept jumping to different events of the day. Soon the dining room was filled with a number of people, some of which Hermione recognised from school: Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle were all there with their parents. Hermione also recognised a few Death Eaters who, like Lucius Malfoy, had avoided Azkaban after Voldemort disappeared. The long table was now covered with beautiful floral centrepieces and a delicious looking feast; several large cooked geese, roasted vegetables, huge cheese plates and the biggest Christmas pudding Hermione had ever seen. Dobby was running around tirelessly refilling goblets, clearing plates and bringing more platters full of food to the table.
Eleven year old Draco was sat at the far end of the table with his friends and not once did Hermione see his parents speak to him, they hadn't interacted since Lucius had handed him the bag of money in the morning.
The scene shifted again for the evening and Hermione prepared herself to see Draco and his parents spending some time together but once again, the room was filled with people. The dining table was moved to one side of the room, a beautiful buffet laid on top of it, and the chairs were around the edges. A large space in the centre of the room was taken up by dancing guests, all of whom looked as though they had drank a little too much and each holding glasses of wine, again topped up on occasion by Dobby.
Draco and the other children were nowhere to be seen amongst the party guests. Hermione asked him where they were.
"Off in the Manor somewhere, we were always told to entertain ourselves past ten o clock, these parties would go on through the night."
"So you never spent time with your parents on Christmas Day?"
"Yes, in the morning. You saw..." he sounded confused.
"Yes but what about the rest of the day? Christmas is supposed to be a family day!"
"Not at my house it wasn't," Draco's tone told Hermione that was the end of the discussion.
The memory seemed endless, the pair had been away for hours now and Hermione was istarving/i; she had deliberately not eaten much that day to save herself for the food at the ministry party.
"Is it just me or is this seeming endless?" Draco asked, though reading her thoughts.
"I was just thinking that. We've never been away this long."
"I'm getting tired of these little trips now," Draco sighed. "I went to see Portree you know, after the last one. I threatened to hex him if he didn't stop them from happening. Of course he gave me a cryptic speech about how 'the doorway' is the only one that can stop them. It'll do it 'when we're ready'. I don't get it though, we're not arguing nearly as much as we used to, surely that was what Duggen wanted?"
"Apparently the doorway has a different idea. Maybe it has set memories that we ihave/i to see before they stop? I wish you had told me that you were going to see Portree though, I would have come with you. He probably would have explained better if you hadn't said you were going to hex him," Hermione said crossly.
"In my defence, I was pretty pissed off at that point. It's fine for you, the worst you've had to deal with is re-living being turned into a cat and being caught in that dressing gown."
"That's not my fault though, I've had my fair share of tough times too you know, they just haven't been on the doorways itinerary apparently. I'll admit this whole thing has been tougher on you though. It's awful watching you go through all of this. I didn't realise things at home were so bad-" Draco cut her off at this point.
"Look, Hermione, I don't need your sympathy okay? I get that you had this perfect childhood with perfect parents and perfect Christmases but that wasn't my life and it's fine. Do I wish it had been different? Yes. Is there anything I can do about it? No. So there's no point dwelling on it, all I can do is make sure my future isn't like that and that's what I've been doing for the past five years and I've managed perfectly well without your comforting pats on the back and reassuring words."
"Well I'm sorry for trying to make you feel better, I'll not bother next time. Enjoy the rest of your night Draco."
Hermione left without another word and headed back towards the table that her friends were sitting at. Before she reached them, however, she was stopped by Lucy.
"That looked like a heated discussion," she said, raising her eyebrows.
"It was nothing," Hermione replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Didn't look like nothing," Lucy lowered her voice to a whisper. "Did you two take a little trip?"
"If you must know, yes," Hermione replied.
She proceeded to tell Lucy about the two Christmases they had seen and how she felt bad for Draco. Lucy agreed and Hermione continued, explaining Draco's anger when she had expressed her sympathy.
"Just leave him for a while," Lucy said once Hermione finished talking, "he'll soon get over it. It can't be easy for him you know, seeing all of these memories from his childhood. He's obviously trying to forget about it all. Maybe on the next one you should just keep your thoughts to yourself rather than telling him, you don't seem to do yourself any favours."
"I know you're right," Hermione sighed. "It's just difficult, seeing him so affected by the memories. It's crazy that I'm so bothered though. I mean, this is someone I hated from being eleven years old, now I'm seeing this whole part of his life I didn't know existed. He had all of these ideas drilled into him from such a young age, it's really no wonder he turned out the way he did. Now he's so different and I know there's a big reason for it and he won't tell me. It's just so frustrating!"
Hermione began to blush at her unexpected outburst though she felt better having got her thoughts about Draco off her chest.
"Do you think there's maybe a reason you're so bothered?" Lucy asked, a sly smile on her face.
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is maybe you like this new side to him more than you care to admit," Lucy winked.
"Oh, don't be so ridiculous, Lucy. Just because you have inappropriate thoughts about Draco Malfoy and his bum doesn't mean we all do!"
Lucy's face turned a shade of red that Hermione hadn't seen before, even on a Weasley. The reason became apparent very quickly when a voice from behind Hermione spoke.
"That's good to know, Granger. Having inappropriate thoughts about my arse would be extremely unprofessional of you."
"Er, I have to go, drink needs topped up," Lucy mumbled and hurried off.
"Nice girl, that Lucy. Smart," Draco winked before also walking away leaving Hermione standing alone and feeling unsure about what had just happened.
A/N Hello! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Please please leave me a little comment and let me know your thoughts, I'd love to know your opinions on the story :) Thanks to lovewriting12 for pointing out my glaring error! I've fixed it now :)