It was only after he Apparated to Granger's house and knocked on her front door that Draco realized it was just past seven in the morning, far too early for any civilized visit. Still, he could not shake the feeling that it was imperative to see her now, to not waste any more precious time.
"Mister Malfoy? What are you doing here?" inquired Rose Weasley as she opened the front door.
"I need to speak with your mother."
"She's in the kitchen. I'll go fetch her, shall I?" Rose said, polite but wary.
"Please, may I come in?" Draco asked.
"Alright," she conceded, leading him through the modest but well-appointed Muggle house. "Is everything alright with Scorp?"
Draco was surprised by the concern in her voice and casual use of his son's nickname. Only yesterday, he would have sneered and told her to mind her own business, but now he replied neutrally. "I didn't know you were friends."
"Of course we are!" Rose was shocked. "My marks in Ancient Runes and Potions wouldn't be nearly so high if we didn't study together."
Draco eyed her with speculation. Rose had just named his son's two strongest subjects, the only ones where he occasionally beat her. "And just what does Scorpius get from this arrangement?"
She gave him an odd look. "We're friends. And we study for all our classes together, so I help him with Transfiguration and Arithmancy."
"Interesting," Draco mused. That sort of inter-house cooperation had been unheard of when he was at Hogwarts. "Why do think things may not be 'alright' with Scorpius?"
Rose was her mother's daughter. She gulped, but then forged ahead. "I worry about him. He puts himself under a lot of pressure, and he's all alone for the holidays, and he misses - "
"His mother?" Draco interrupted. "I know."
"No, he misses his family," Rose corrected. "How you were before he went to Hogwarts."
He responded to her evident sincerity with a crooked smile. "I miss that, too. I'm going to Hogwarts as soon as I leave here. I'm hoping to persuade Scorp to come home, or at least have lunch with me in Hogsmeade."
"I really think he'll like that," Rose encouraged him as they reached the kitchen, warm and smelling of cinnamon from baking. "Hey, Mum. Mister Malfoy's here."
Like her daughter, Granger was still wearing pajamas, her hair caught up in a messy ponytail as she removed a tray of scones from the oven. Draco thought she looked lovely.
"I truly hope you aren't here about work on Christmas morning," Hermione warned him, stripping off her oven mitts and glancing over to make sure her wand was within easy reach to hex him.
"No. I mean yes," Draco floundered. "I wanted to tell you to take the rest of the week off, like you asked. It's Christmas, after all."
"What about the potions?" she asked, eying him in disbelief. "Someone needs to mind them."
"I can head into the office. It's no trouble for me, with Scorpius at Hogwarts." He tried to not sound sad that his son had elected to stay at school, away from him.
"Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate that," Hermione accepted, even as Rose began to whisper fiercely in her ear. "What if Scorpius comes home for the rest of the holidays, though?" she asked, in response to her daughter's intervention.
Draco snorted, not unkindly, at the lack of subtlety on display. "He's old enough not to need a minder."
"Hey, we don't need a minder, either," interjected Hermione's gangly son, as he arrived in the kitchen and made a direct line for the refrigerator. "Mum, where's the milk?"
"On the counter, Hugo," she directed him, before turning her attention back to Draco. "If Scorpius comes home, I'll go in for the morning and you can cover the afternoon," Hermione stated, brooking no argument.
"Deal," Draco agreed. "I'll send you an owl to let you know what he decides."
Rose started up with another bout of whispering. At the conclusion, Hermione rolled her eyes but gave Draco a smile. "Are you free for Christmas dinner, Malfoy? We'd love to have you."
"And Scorp, too," Rose chimed in.
"I'd love to," he accepted. "What's on the menu? I can bring some wine," Draco offered. The Malfoy elves would be thrilled to whip up a dessert, but he knew how Hermione felt about elf labor.
"Mum makes a smashing dinner! Roast beef and potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, pigs in blankets, some veg . . ." Hugo listed with enthusiasm.
"That's enough, greedy guts," Rose cut him off. "A bottle of red would be lovely, Mister Malfoy."
He exchanged a grin with her mother at her forwardness but gravely assented. "A bottle of red it is, then."
After an awkward moment, Draco decided to forge ahead and reciprocate with an invitation of his own, calculating that Granger was less likely to shoot him down in front of her children. He might be trying to turn over a new leaf, but he still was a risk-averse Slytherin.
"I realize this is last minute, Hermione, but would you care to attend the Ministry's New Year's Eve gala with me?" It was only the most prominent event on the social calendar, the most blatant way he could proclaim he was pleased and proud to have Hermione Granger at his side, blood status and familial obligations be damned.
She chewed her lip, clearly torn. "Ginny and Harry have a party that night."
"Oh, come on, Mum! You can go to Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry's any old time!" Rose interjected.
"Perhaps we could make an appearance at the Ministry and then go to Potters?" Draco suffered. "Ginny was kind enough to invite me, too."
"Did she?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"The She-Weasel is a very sympathetic confidante," Draco said, feeling mischievous. The redhead indeed had provided a sympathetic ear to his cagey confessions about his covert relationship with an unnamed co-worker, and if his dream was accurate, Granger had supplied all the racy details.
As he expected, Hermione flushed. "She's a meddler."
"But a well-intentioned one," Draco shrugged. "So, will you come to the gala with me? Please?"
"I would be honored," Hermione accepted formally.
"Brilliant!" Draco grinned. He hoped she would wear a dress that coordinated with the ruby bracelet gathering dust in his bedroom drawer. "I'm off to Hogwarts now, but I'll see you tonight."
"Of course, Draco. Happy Christmas." Unlike in his office, this time her voice was warm and held the promise of good things to come.
Draco knew it had only been one morning so far, but he was determined to try and be a better man going forward. The words of one of Granger's favorite Christmas came to mind:
So may I suggest the secret of Christmas?
It's not the things you do at Christmas time
But the Christmas things you do all year through . . . .
"Happy Christmas to you, too, Hermione."
A/N: Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!