Christmas Day.

Hermione Malfoy sat snuggled on the sofa with her husband, Draco, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkling festively while the fire crackled and soft music filled the room. It had been the couple's first one as a married couple, and they had spent the entire day by themselves. They'd risen late and exchanged presents under the tree, before Hermione had cooked a delicious Christmas lunch. They had then spent the rest of the day relaxing with one another and enjoying their time together.

"I think this has been the most relaxing Christmas ever," Draco muttered, his fingers softly trailing through Hermione's curls.

"It has been nice," Hermione agreed. "I think we made the right decision to spend this Christmas alone."

Of course, while they had spent Christmas Day alone, they'd seen some of their friends and family on Christmas Eve and had plans to see the rest on Boxing Day.

"We should do it more often," Draco suggested. "Not that I don't like spending time with our family and friends over Christmas, as I do, but it's nice to just be the two of us."

"I've been thinking about that actually," Hermione said, sitting up and twisting herself so that she was facing her husband. "We don't actually know how many more Christmases we're going to have before we have children."

Before their marriage the couple had spoken about children, and they'd decided that they wanted a family sooner rather than later. They'd also decided that as two only children they would like more than once child as the would like their children to have siblings. However, Draco had made it clear that while he would like more than one child, he did draw the line at being as productive as the Weasleys.

"All the more reason to make the most of these years," Draco said.

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione agreed with a nod, even though she suspected the direction of her thoughts differed wildly from her husband's. "Once we have children, I really can't see us wanting to entertain at Christmas, or at least not in the first few years. But what I would really like to do is host Christmas for everyone we love."

"Everyone?" Draco questioned, wondering just how many people his wife was talking about.

"I was thinking, our parents and our closest friends," Hermione explained. "And the timing could be pretty perfect as all our friends are in the same position as us and haven't yet started to have families. With Harry and Ginny getting married next year, and Blaise and Daphne also engaged, it's only going to be a matter of time before children start coming along. And as I said, once that happens, everything changes."

"Just what are you suggesting Hermione?" Draco asked, seeing his hopes for more quiet Christmases with his wife disappearing before his eyes.

"Next year, I want everyone to come to us for Christmas," Hermione decided.

"I suppose we could always throw a party over the festive season," Draco suggested.

"No." Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "I'm not talking about a party, Draco. I'm talking about Christmas Day. I want the people we love the most to come to us for Christmas lunch next year. As I said, it might be our last chance to play host for a while."

"But it might not," Draco argued. "Children could still be years into our future."

"And if they are, then we'll have other opportunities to have other Christmases just the two of us," Hermione argued. "My mind is made up. It's what I want to do."

"And what if it's not what I want to do?" Draco asked. "What if I want to spend Christmas with my wife?"

"I'm sure I can persuade you to come around to my way of thinking," Hermione purred, smiling seductively at her husband as she scooted closer to him. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" she asked innocently. "Maybe I should take steps to cool myself down."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Draco asked with a smirk, having a feeling he was going to thoroughly enjoy being persuaded to come around to his wife's way of thinking.

"I always find removing clothes the best way to cool down," Hermione remarked, her hands slowly trailing down her sides as she reached for the bottom of the silky green top she was wearing.

"Funny, I always find you removing clothes gets me all hot and bothered," Draco muttered as Hermione discarded her top, leaving her exposed in the lacy white bra she was wearing underneath.

"As long as it brings you round to my way of thinking," Hermione retorted as she began to slip out of the trousers she was wearing.

"I'm sure it will," Draco muttered, a wide grin spreading over his face as his wife stripped down to her underwear.

Truth be told, he would have agreed to anything Hermione wanted, but if she wanted to persuade him in such a pleasurable way, he wasn't going to complain. Besides, making love to his wife under the Christmas tree was the perfect way to round off a pretty perfect Christmas.


Mid-July.

Hermione and Draco arrived home, bristling with excitement. Even though it was the middle of the day, neither of them were at work. They had both taken the day off to attend a very special appointment at St Mungo's. An appointment that had included their very first baby scan. The couple had known for a while they were expecting, but they'd kept it to themselves until Hermione was over the initial danger period. And now, she was officially past her first trimester and in six months' time they would be parents.

"I still can't quite believe this is happening," Draco muttered, pulling the copies of the scan out of Hermione's bag so he could take another look at the life growing inside his wife.

"I certainly can," Hermione retorted. "I've never felt so queasy in all my life."

"The healer did say the sickness should be subsiding," Draco reminded his wife.

"It already is really," Hermione admitted. "If it carries on as it has been in a few weeks' time, I'll be perfectly fine."

"Let's hope so," Draco said, smiling at his wife as she settled down beside him and reached out for one of the scan copies. They actually had a few copies of the scan as they were planning on giving copies to their parents as the child would be their first grandchild.

"I can't wait to tell everyone," Hermione said. "I bet they'll all be surprised."

In actual fact, the pregnancy had come as a surprise to Draco and Hermione themselves. Despite knowing they wanted a family, and doing nothing to prevent a pregnancy occurring since they had married a year ago, they hadn't made any real attempt to try for a baby. Hermione had just fallen pregnant naturally, and it had caught them both by surprise when they realised what had happened.

"I'm sure everyone will be delighted for us," Draco predicted. "Although they might be a bit disappointed about the timing."

"Why?" Hermione questioned with a frown, wondering what was wrong with the timing of her pregnancy.

"It'll mean a change of plans for Christmas, and everyone was really looking forward to coming to us," Draco replied.

"They'll still be coming to us," Hermione pointed out, not sure why her husband thought her pregnancy would change their plans for Christmas. Maybe it would have done if the baby had been due around that time, but she wasn't due to give birth until the middle of January.

"But you're pregnant," Draco argued.

"And?" Hermione questioned, still not getting where Draco was coming from. "Pregnant people can still celebrate Christmas."

"Yes, but by Christmas you'll be nearly due," Draco pointed out. "You can't possibly host Christmas lunch when you're eight months pregnant."

"I'm pregnant, not sick, Draco," Hermione insisted. "It's going to be a long six months if you're going to treat me like an invalid. I see no reason to change our Christmas plans. In fact, given what's happening, I think it's even more imperative we go ahead with our plans. It will be the last chance we get as next year, we'll have a little one to focus on."

"We can go ahead, but only if it's not going to be too much for you," Draco conceded with a sigh, knowing full well that he didn't have the heart to deny his wife anything she wanted, even if he wasn't sure how good of an idea it now was.

"Of course it won't be too much," Hermione snorted, brushing off her husband's concern. "But let's not worry about that now. Right now, I want to focus on how we should tell people. Should we do it in one go, or do it on a more personal basis. And if we do that, who do we tell first?"

Putting aside the matter of Christmas dinner, the couple tried to work out the best way to break their news. After much deliberation they decided to have their parents around to dinner and tell both sets of future grandparents together. They would then do something similar with their friends as they didn't want any arguments breaking out over who had been told first.


Early November.

Emerging from the floo, Draco helped his wife over to the sofa and ensured she was seated comfortably. After a pretty smooth early pregnancy, aside from the morning sickness, Hermione had been enduring a pretty hard pregnancy, and was just returning from spending a couple of days in St Mungo's. At one terrible point there had even been a worry that she was going to lose the baby. Mercifully, that hadn't happened, but she had been ordered to spend the remainder of her pregnancy resting.

"How are you feeling?" Draco checked as Hermione settled back in at home.

"Okay," Hermione replied with a sigh. "I know it's for the best that I need to rest, but I can already see the boredom looming. I've got nearly two months of doing nothing to look forward to."

"The healer didn't say you had to do nothing, he just said you had to rest," Draco argued.

"Which means stopping work," Hermione muttered. "And while I can help organise the nursery, I can't really help it come together."

"I'm sure you can find a way to fill your time," Draco said, confident that his wife wouldn't be bored for long as she was far too intelligent to allow herself to spend almost two months bored out of her mind. "A relaxing way," he added.

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Hermione conceded. "Although I guess at least now you'll get your way with Christmas. We're going to have to cancel now."

Draco nodded his head, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he watched his wife and saw her sadness at the prospect of cancelling. She'd been looking forward to it since last year, and he knew with the baby arriving, they wouldn't have another chance to do something similar for years. Although even then it wouldn't be the same as they would have a little one to think of, and chances were so would some of their friends.

"You really wanted this, didn't you?" he asked, perching on the coffee table in front of the sofa his wife was curled up on.

"I did," Hermione confirmed. "But I want this little one more," she said, resting her hand on her stomach. "And they come first. As much as it was what I wanted to do, I have to accept, it won't be happening."

"What if I did it?" Draco suggested, the words leaving his mouth before he really had a chance to think through what he was saying.

"Did what?" Hermione asked.

"Christmas lunch," Draco replied, deciding he might as well go for it now he'd jumped in without thinking.

"You want to cook Christmas lunch for our friends and family?" Hermione checked, convinced she was misunderstanding Draco's suggestion.

"Why not, I can cook," Draco retorted with a shrug. Before Hermione he had barely set foot inside a kitchen, let alone cooked in one, but since they'd been together he'd learnt to become somewhat proficient in the kitchen and he could whip up an edible meal.

"I know, but you've never done anything like this before," Hermione argued. "This is different to whipping up some sort of pasta dish."

"I cook other things than pasta," Draco protested, although he couldn't deny that the vast majority of his cooking was pasta based as it was so very easy to make different pasta dishes.

"Yes, but you've never done anything like a Christmas lunch before," Hermione said, not wanting to offend Draco, but needing him to understand what a major undertaking he was suggesting. "I was planning on doing the whole thing. Turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, roast parsnips, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings, and not to mention the other veg. I'm talking all the trimmings."

"I can handle that," Draco replied with false bravado. "Just make me a list of everything you want included, and I'll do the rest."

"If you're sure," Hermione replied warily. "I can arrange for Harry or someone to go out shopping and get everything you're going to need. Most of it will come from the muggle world, as you know I like their ingredients for cooking."

"I can handle everything," Draco assured his wife. "Including sourcing the ingredients."

"But how will you know how much of everything to get?" Hermione asked. "You have to make sure the turkey is big enough to feed everyone. If we're still going to do this, we're going to do it right."

"I promise you Hermione, it will be the best Christmas lunch you've ever had," Draco vowed, even though he really had no idea how he was going to manage it as cooking Christmas lunch with all the trimmings really was a step up in culinary skills and it was far more involved than any other cooking he'd ever done. But it was what his wife wanted, so it was what Hermione was going to get.


Early December.

Lucius Malfoy was just finishing off some paperwork when he became aware of odd noises coming from his son's office. The two offices shared a connecting door, and Lucius moved over to the door to be able to better hear what was going on. There was certainly a lot of mumbling and muttering from his son, along with some audible groans.

For one awful second, Lucius worried that something had happened to Hermione or the baby, especially given their recent difficulties. But then Lucius realised that if something had happened, Draco would not just be mumbling and groaning. He would be in total despair, but he also would have said something and not suffered alone.

Now confident that whatever was going on with Draco wasn't too serious, Lucius pushed open the connecting door to check on his son. What he found was Draco sitting at his desk, surrounded by dozens of open books and several sheets of paper, looking totally and utterly lost.

"Is there a problem?" Lucius asked, walking over to his son's desk and frowning slightly when he realised all the books his son had open in front of him seemed to be about food.

"I'm screwed," Draco wailed in frustration. "And these books are not helping. Every single recipe is different, even if the end result should end up the same. How am I supposed to know what to do, when every single recipe gives different instructions?"

"Ah, you're planning on cooking," Lucius muttered, the books making a bit more sense to him now.

Not that he was an expert on cookery books, as he'd never looked at one in his life. Nor had he ever attempted to cook, but he knew his son had. In fact, he and Narcissa had dined with Hermione and Draco several times when his son had done the cooking, and he was pretty damn good at it.

"And not just any meal," Draco said with a sigh. "But Christmas lunch. A Christmas lunch with all the trimmings, and a one that has to be perfect."

"Why does it have to be perfect?" Lucius asked, pulling up a chair and settling himself down at his son's desk.

"Because it's what Hermione wants," Draco replied. "You know she was planning on doing Christmas for everyone this year, and she was so disappointed when she was made to rest and wouldn't be able to do it. I sort of ended up promising I would sort lunch so we could still host Christmas."

"And it's too much for you?" Lucius questioned, glancing at the numerous books and papers scattered over his son's usually neat desk.

"I didn't realise it would be this complicated," Draco admitted. "As I said, every single item I need to cook comes with millions of different recipes. Potter even gave me these extra recipes he'd sourced," he added, gesturing to the loose papers among the cookery books. "But they're just as bad as the ones in Hermione's books."

"Surely you just pick one of the recipes and go with that," Lucius said. He didn't know exactly how cooking worked, but picking one recipe and following it seemed like the simplest way to go.

"I know that, but how do I know which recipe is the best one?" Draco questioned. "But more importantly, how will I find the time to make everything? Just looking at what's involved, I reckon I'll need to be cooking from first thing in the morning to get everything done. It doesn't seem at all possible to me."

"Can't you ask Hermione for advice?" Lucius suggested. "Surely she would know how long it would take to do this."

"She would, but I really don't want to trouble her," Draco replied. "If I asked for her help, she would be in the kitchen taking charge before I knew where I was at, and I'm not having her risking her health or the baby's."

"The house elves," Lucius declared with a snap of his fingers. "They do Christmas lunch at the manor every year, they can simply cook it at yours this year."

"As if Hermione would stand for that," Draco snorted as he shook his head. His wife may have accepted that house elves were part of the wizarding world, but she still had strong feelings about using them and had been instrumental in securing them additional rights in the magical world. So while she accepted their presence at the manor, she downright refused to allow any to work for them.

"Hmm, I forgot about that," Lucius muttered thoughtfully. "I would say ask your mother, but she's about as much use in the kitchen as I am. I suppose, there's Hermione's mother. Jean might be able to help you."

"I guess so, but I wanted to do this for Hermione," Draco sighed. "She didn't really believe I can do it, so I wanted to show her that I could. I wanted to give her the Christmas she's been dreaming about since last year. With the baby arriving, this is our last chance to have a Christmas like this, and now I'll have to admit I overreached myself, and I will have to disappoint her."

"Come on Draco, you can't give up that easily," Lucius urged. "Are you a true Slytherin or not?"

"What does being a Slytherin have to do with anything?" Draco scoffed.

"A true Slytherin would find a way to give Hermione exactly what she wanted," Lucius said.

"But how?" Draco questioned, wishing his father would give him some useful advice rather than simply urging him not to give up. "I really hate to admit it, but I don't think I can do this. There's just too many side dishes to make, not to mention the actual turkey itself. Nothing I can do will ever be able to live up to Hermione's dreams. It's certainly not going to live up to anything she could do."

"Let me think on it," Lucius said as he rose to his feet. "There has to be way to give Hermione the perfect Christmas lunch she wants. We'll think of something, I'm sure of it, Draco. All we need to do is utilise our Slytherin cunning."

"Well we better do it quickly as Christmas is only a few weeks away," Draco muttered, hoping that his father thought up some sort of scheme quickly, or else he would have to disappoint his wife and that was something he really didn't want to do.


Christmas Day.

Even after Draco had vowed to sort lunch, Hermione had still been sceptical that the day would go ahead, but her husband had been true to his word and arrangements had been made for their loved ones to join them for Christmas. Given she was supposed to be resting, Hermione hadn't lifted a finger in the build up to Christmas Day. Draco had sorted the shopping for the lunch, he'd put up the Christmas tree and decorations and he'd laid the table in the dining room on Christmas Eve. Hermione had even been banned from the kitchen as Draco didn't want her to do anything.

So rather than rush around in the kitchen all morning, Hermione had spent her morning relaxing in the living room. Draco had been in and out of the kitchen all morning, and when Lucius and Narcissa arrived, he pressganged his father into helping and the two wizards sequestered themselves in the kitchen.

"I don't know whether to be scared that Lucius is helping," Hermione confided in her mother-in-law as they waited for the rest of the guests to arrive. "He doesn't spend much time in the kitchen, does he?"

"He'd be hard pressed to even find the kitchen in the manor," Narcissa chuckled. "Lucius is a man of many talents, but none of those talents are culinary inclined."

"That was what I was afraid of," Hermione muttered, glancing towards the living room door and wondering if she should go and check on her husband and father-in-law.

However, before she could act on her thought, the floo sounded in the floo room on the other side of the hallway. Since Hermione was still taking it easy, Narcissa headed off to greet the first arrivals, and she returned with Lucius's best friend and Draco's godfather, Severus Snape in tow. Moments later the doorbell rang, and Hermione's parents, Richard and Jean, arrived, with arms full of gifts.

Hermione was still busy greeting her parents when the floo sounded again, and this time the guests were her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and Harry's wife, Ginny. Next to arrive was Draco's best friend, Blaise Zabini and his fiancée, Daphne Greengrass. And they were swiftly followed by the last of their guests, Pansy Parkinson.

"Where's Draco?" Pansy asked as Narcissa assured everyone had a drink.

"In the kitchen," Hermione replied. "He's sorting lunch."

"Malfoy's cooking Christmas lunch?" Ron asked, looking slightly worried at the prospect.

"He can cook," Hermione pointed out, defending her husband.

"I know," Ron assured his friend. After all, he'd dined with the Malfoys plenty of times when Draco had done the cooking. "But Christmas lunch is totally different. It's special. You have to get everything just right."

"It's certainly not something I'm looking forward to doing," Ginny admitted. "I just know nothing I'll be able to do will ever live up to Mum's Christmas lunch."

"I'm not sure much can live up to Molly's cooking," Hermione chuckled, not afraid to admit that Molly Weasley was a sublime cook and her homemade meals were some of the finest meals she'd ever had.

"No doubt Draco will do his best," Narcissa said. "And I'm sure with Lucius's help, it'll be wonderful."

"Lucius is helping?" Severus questioned with an arched eyebrow. "Merlin help us all," he muttered when Hermione confirmed that Lucius was in the kitchen assisting Draco.

"I think we can all agree on one thing," Blaise said with a chuckle. "Christmas lunch this year will certainly be memorable."

Hermione fully agreed with Blaise, but she was hoping that it would be memorable in a good way. If the meal was a disaster it would hardly be the end of the world, but Draco had tried so hard to make everything perfect for her, and she knew how devastated he would be if anything went wrong. She would just have to cross her fingers that nothing did go wrong, and that Christmas lunch was a major success.

Although it was still a few hours to go before they would discover just what sort of Christmas lunch they would be treated to. Luckily, Draco didn't spend all that time in the kitchen as he and Lucius came into the front room to see everyone and to have a drink. However, he did keep popping into the kitchen to check on the progress of lunch.

"You know, I can't smell anything," Ron remarked as Draco disappeared yet again to check on lunch preparation.

"What exactly do you want to smell?" Blaise asked, giving the redhead a peculiar look.

"Turkey," Ron replied. "At home you can always smell the turkey for hours before we have lunch."

"That's right, you can," Ginny agreed with a nod. "You can always smell it when Mum's cooking Christmas lunch."

"This house is rather larger than your parents house," Daphne said gently, deciding it was best to jump in and mention the size disparity in houses nicely before either Pansy, Lucius or Severus did so in a less tactful way.

"I know, but I still thought you would be able to smell the food," Ron said with a shrug.

"I think Ron's right," Hermione said with a frown. "When I made lunch last year, I could smell the turkey outside of the kitchen."

"That would be me, I'm afraid," Lucius explained with a shrug. "When I arrived, I cast a spell around the kitchen to stop the smell from being too overpowering for me. I do like turkey, but the smell can be a bit much. I must have been a bit heavy handed with my casting. But no doubt you'll be able to smell the turkey once it's served. Now, I really should be going to see if Draco needs any assistance."

"I had no idea Lucius didn't like the smell of turkey," Narcissa mused as her husband hurried out of the room.

"Men are strange creatures," Jean remarked.

"Hence, why I am still single," Pansy said.

"And here was me thinking it was because no-one could put up with you," Ron snorted.

"More like no-one can meet my high standards," Pansy retorted, giving Ron an icy glare. "I'm not interested in being with just anyone. I want someone special."

"More like you want someone who will treat you like a princess," Ron replied.

"I'd settle for someone who simply treated me nicely," Pansy hissed.

"Those two just need to get on with it and hop into bed together," Daphne whispered in Hermione's ear as their friends continued to bicker. "I can't believe they're not together yet."

"I can," Hermione replied, also keeping her voice down even though Pansy and Ron were so focused on each other they wouldn't have heard them. "They're both too stubborn for their own good. But I guess it'll happen when its meant to."

"Sod that," Daphne snorted. "If they're not together by the summer when Blaise and I get married, I will damn well do something to push them together. I'm getting sick of watching them dancing around each other."

Hermione chuckled, knowing that Daphne wasn't joking and she would be more than willing to play matchmaker between their friends. However, if she had a plan, Hermione didn't get to hear it as Draco poked his head back into the living room and announced that lunch was ready if everyone wanted to gather in the dining room.

"Ooh, isn't this lovely," Jean cooed as everyone made their way to the dining room, where the large table was laid out with a green tablecloth and silver settings.

"You can tell Draco did this," Ginny laughed as everyone took their seats. "It's so very Slytherin."

"Yet still so Christmassy," Harry added.

As everyone agreed the table with both Christmassy and Slytherinesque, the dining room door swung open and a large platter containing a turkey floated into the room, Draco following behind with his wand. Carefully, Draco directed the turkey onto the table, where it settled in the centre. Leaning forward, Hermione admired the beautiful looking turkey, which was surrounded by crispy looking stuffing balls and cute little pigs in blankets. Before Hermione could compliment her husband on how delicious the turkey looked, the door swung open again and Lucius arrived with more floating platters.

Within moments the table was crammed with festive offerings, ranging from crispy roast potatoes and parsnips, bowls containing sprouts with bacon, peas, tender stem broccoli, cauliflower cheese and caramelised carrots. There was also a large platter of freshly made Yorkshire puddings, a gravy boat fully of turkey gravy and a bowl of fresh cranberry sauce. And to complete the meal, Lucius poured everyone a glass of champagne, alcohol free for Hermione.

"This looks absolutely amazing," Hermione remarked as everyone stared in wonder at the meal that had been placed in front of them.

"It was nothing," Draco said with an easy shrug. "Father, do you want to carve the turkey."

Once Lucius had carved the turkey, everyone got stuck into the feast in front of them, and they all declared it one of the best Christmas lunches they had ever tasted. Even Ron and Ginny admitted it could give Molly's cooking a good run for its money.

"I cannot believe you managed all this," Hermione said to her husband. "In the future, you'll be cooking every Christmas."

"Let's not get too carried away," Draco chuckled. "I've pulled it off once, I might not be able to do it again."

"If you can do this, you can do anything," Hermione declared. "Seriously Draco, it's amazing. I don't know how you did it. You really must show me how you made these Yorkshire puddings, they're lovely. Mine never rise this well."

"Beginners luck," Draco replied with a shrug.

"This is not luck, it's serious talent," Hermione said. "Honestly, this is good enough to be professionally made."

Draco chuckled weakly before swiftly changing the subject, leaving Hermione to conclude that he was embarrassed by her praise. Although he wasn't usually so modest, but maybe it was the fact there were so many people around and they were all singing his praises.

"Dessert is either black forest gateaux or traditional Christmas pudding," Draco announced once everyone had finished eating.

"You made gateaux?" Hermione gasped. Black forest gateaux was her favourite dessert, but she usually bought it ready made.

"Sorry, I got the one you love from the local shop," Draco said with a chuckle. "I also bought the pudding as well. I just didn't have time to make dessert."

"After that stunning meal, I'm sure we can all forgive you," Jean said, smiling indulgently at her son-in-law.

Even though the dessert wasn't homemade, it still went down a treat and everyone thoroughly enjoyed every bite. However, everyone was stuffed after eating such a delicious meal and while Draco and Lucius sorted the washing up, everyone headed back to the living room and collapsed in a heap. Not long afterwards, Draco and Lucius joined them, and when Hermione questioned how they had finished tidying up so quickly, Lucius admitted that a couple of the elves from the manor were doing the cleaning up. Even though she normally would have objected, Hermione allowed it to pass unchallenged as it was Christmas and her husband had done brilliantly with lunch with the assistance of his father.

Once everyone started to regain their energy, presents were exchanged and several merry hours passed as the group celebrated Christmas, each of them aware that the following year would be very different as Hermione and Draco would have a child by then. Although who knew what other children might be present, or even expected, a whole twelve months into the future.

After a wonderful day, people slowly started to say their goodbyes and head for home. Eventually, it was just Draco and Hermione left and the pair were snuggled on the sofa, enjoying the last few hours of what had been a perfect Christmas.

"Is there any of that gateaux left?" Hermione asked.

"I think so," Draco replied. "I'll go and get it for you."

"No need, you've done enough today," Hermione insisted, hauling herself to her feet and urging her husband to stay seated. "I think I can manage to grab myself a bit more dessert. Do you want anything?"

"I couldn't eat another bite," Draco replied with a shake of his head.

Leaving Draco to relax following his exertions in the kitchen, Hermione headed off in search of more dessert. Given that she'd had house elves in the kitchen, she half expected to find things out of place, but everything seemed to be where it belonged. Plucking a bowl from the cupboard, she opened the fridge the find the gateaux and cut herself a decent sized portion, reminding herself that as it was Christmas and she was pregnant, she deserved a little treat and shouldn't worry about having extra dessert.

As she shut the fridge, after replacing the gateaux, a slip of paper pinned under one of the magnets caught her eye. There was only a few magnets on the fridge, and they were all remnants of her parents travels in recent years, and the slip of paper was partly under a pair of clogs that had come back from Amsterdam. Hermione rarely stuck things to the fridge, so she was curious as to what the paper was, so she slid it out from under the clogs and discovered it was a receipt.

Seeing it was a receipt, she suspected it was a one Draco had dropped, likely from all the shopping he'd done in the lead up to making Christmas lunch, and the elves had found it and not wanting to throw it away, had pinned it to the fridge for him to find. Smiling at their thoughtfulness, Hermione was about to put it back under the clogs when she spotted the total at the bottom of the receipt was for several hundred galleons. Shocked at the large amount, Hermione took a closer look at the receipt, wondering where on earth her husband had spent so much money. Even if he'd bought all the food in the wizarding world, it should only have costed a small fraction of the total amount he'd spent.

Although Hermione quickly realised the receipt wasn't for shopping. It was a receipt from a high end catering firm, and every dish that was listed on the receipt had been served for lunch earlier that day. As her eyes scanned the receipt, Hermione realised exactly what had happened. Rather than cooking the lunch himself, Draco had paid a catering firm to do it for him, and he had then passed it off as his own work.

"That is such a Slytherin move," she muttered, suddenly realising why Lucius had spent so much time in the kitchen as her father-in-law had clearly been in on the scheme. In fact knowing Lucius, it had likely been his suggestion.

Picking up her dessert, Hermione headed back to the living room with the receipt, where she found Draco was still sprawled where she'd left him, his eyes closed.

"What took you so long," he asked, sounding as if he was on the verge of going to sleep.

"Just admiring the clean-up job the elves have done," Hermione replied, sitting back down next to her husband. "They're so very thorough. Even finding incriminating evidence."

"Evidence of what?" Draco asked, his grey eyes flying open and darting around suspiciously.

"That looks like a guilty conscience to me," Hermione said, smiling sweetly at her husband. "Do you have anything to tell me?"

"What could I have to tell you?" Draco asked slowly, his mind clearly busy trying to work out what was going on.

"I don't know, anything you like," Hermione replied. "So do you have any secrets, Draco?"

Draco was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out if Hermione could possibly know of his father's scheme. But he and Lucius had covered their tracks well, and he'd been in the kitchen since the elves had left and everything seemed in place. So surely whatever his wife was talking about had nothing to do with today.

"I'm secret free," he declared, confident he was in the clear.

"Okay," Hermione said, still smiling at her husband as though she knew something he didn't. "Tell me again how you got those Yorkshire puddings to rise so perfectly? I'm dying to know your secret. It can be your Christmas present to me."

"I don't know, I just followed the recipe," Draco said with a shrug.

"I suppose it was the baking powder you used," Hermione mused. "Did you buy organic? I've heard it said organic powder helps with the rise."

"That would be it," Draco said with a relieved smile. "I got the organic baking powder."

"You don't use baking powder in Yorkshire puddings," Hermione said, looking smug that she'd caught her husband out in a lie. "But you wouldn't know that as you didn't make any puddings. In fact, you didn't make anything, did you?"

"How can you say that?" Draco demanded. "You saw what I did today."

"Oh yes, I saw what you did today," Hermione chuckled, producing the receipt from her pocket and waving it in front of her husband. "Today you paid a catering company a small fortune, and passed the work off as your own."

"What the hell?" Grabbing the receipt, Draco cursed as it confirmed just what he'd done at the urging of her father. "Where did you get this?"

"It was on the fridge," Hermione answered. "One of the elves clearly found it and put it on the fridge in case it was important."

"Dammit," Draco swore, well aware that he was caught and there was no use denying anything. "Father said he'd disposed of this with the packing from the catering company."

"He must have dropped it," Hermione said. "So do I get the full story, Draco? Why did you do it?"

"Because I didn't want to disappoint you," Draco admitted with a sigh. "I was going to make lunch myself. Ask Potter if you don't believe me, he got me some extra recipes from some sort of muggle place called the internet."

"What went wrong?" Hermione asked.

"None of the recipes agreed with each other," Draco replied. "Every single recipe I found was different. And they were all so time consuming. To get everything done, I would have had to start cooking in the middle of the night."

"Then why not just tell me it was too much for you?" Hermione asked. "I would have understood."

"I know you would," Draco admitted. "But then our plans would have needed changing, and I know how much you wanted this year to be special. And it has been, hasn't it? You've got to admit, today has been pretty damn good."

"It has," Hermione confirmed with a nod of her head. "It's just the sort of Christmas I imagined when I suggested we do this last year."

"I know how much this meant to you, and I didn't want to let you down, so father suggested I got creative," Draco explained. "He came up with the idea of hiring caterers, and I decided we could simply pass it off as my cooking. We just made sure everyone stayed out of the kitchen and pretended to be busy until Father slipped out to get the food at the allotted time, and we transferred it onto our plates and got rid of the evidence."

"Just not all of the evidence," Hermione chuckled, glancing at the incriminating receipt in her husband's hands.

"Bloody man, just wait until I get my hands on him," Draco hissed. "If he hadn't dropped this, no-one would have ever been any the wiser. Everyone would have always thought of me as a culinary genius."

"I guess we don't have to tell everyone the truth," Hermione mused. "We can keep this between us, and your father. Also most likely your mother, as she's sure to find out. But we don't have to tell anyone else."

"Why do I think that sounds too good to be true?" Draco questioned warily, trying to work out what was in it for Hermione to keep quiet about his Slytherinesque scheming.

"I'm not going to keep quiet for nothing," Hermione chuckled. "You're going to make it worth my while."

"Anything you want," Draco promised. "I'll give you all the foot massages you want. Starting with now."

"That will do for a start," Hermione decided, adjusting her position on the sofa so that she could put her feet up on her husband. "That can be today's price, foot massages for a year."

"A year?" Draco spluttered. "And what do you mean today's price? How many days are you going to demand something from me?"

"I'm thinking, every day for the rest of the year," Hermione decided. "Which seems fair since the year only has a week to go. So for the next six days, I'll think of some way for you to pay for my silence. Some requests might just be a one off, but some like the foot massages might be long term. Do we have a deal?"

"I'm not sure I've got much choice," Draco grumbled. "I don't know if anyone has ever told you this, Hermione, but you would have made a bloody good Slytherin."

"Then it looks like this little one's fate is sealed," Hermione laughed, resting her hands on her large stomach. "Now, don't you have a foot massage to give me?"

With a satisfied sigh, Hermione sat back to enjoy her foot massage and to try and think of more demands she could make of her husband in the coming week. Truth be told, she wasn't that mad at what he'd done as it was very clear he'd done it for her. But it had been a sneaky thing to do, and she simply couldn't let him get away with trying to pull a trick like that on her. He needed reminding that he wasn't the only devious one in the house, and playing with her was playing with fire. She may have been a former Gryffindor, but Draco was right when he said she would have made a damn good Slytherin. She was certainly a match for her husband, and now he was going to make it up to her. If he truly wanted to keep her quiet, then he was going to have to earn it. Her husband may have given her a perfect Christmas, but he was about to give her a whole lot more over the coming week as she planned to take full advantage of the position she had found herself in.

The End.