~Christmas Magic~
A Hermione/Draco 1-Shot
By halfbloodprincess22


December 25, 1994
Hogwarts Grounds
Yule Ball’s Aftermath


Hermione watched Krum go and sighed. The night air was a crisp, biting cold, but she felt no desire whatsoever to go inside just yet. So she sat on the bench, thinking.

Life was so complicated. Hermione was worried-about everything. She was worried about how Ron and Harry, but especially Ron, would react to her coming to the Ball with Krum. She was worried about what everybody else would think. She was worried that Sirius might get caught, and on top of all that, there were so many strange things going on…Harry getting entered in the tournament, the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup, and so on.

And the one night Hermione could relax, have some fun, and take a break from this constant worry and anxiety, something else equally disturbing was nagging her.

Krum had been nice enough, but all night during the Yule Ball, Hermione had been thinking about somebody else. Someone else had gotten her attention…somebody she had always loathed and despised.

Draco Malfoy.

Something about him had caught Hermione’s eye tonight. She didn’t know what, and she certainly didn’t know why she was feeling this way. No matter how he’d looked, no matter how he’d acted, he was still Draco Malfoy: Harry’s rival since day one, the son of a Death Eater, a cruel, Muggle-hating Slytherin. But hard as Hermione tried to banish these troublesome thoughts about Malfoy from her mind, they kept coming back.

Why does everything have to be so complicated? Hermione thought bitterly, patting her hair. Its normal bushy quality was returning, but she didn’t really care.

Suddenly she heard footsteps. Hermione tensed and automatically reached for her wand, but it was up in the dormitory. Stupid! she scolded herself. Always carry your wand! Especially these days…

“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice shaky.

A boy stepped out of the shadows and into view: tall, with sleek, blond hair and cold gray eyes…

“Malfoy,” said Hermione coolly, narrowing her eyes. She was relieved, actually. She’d thought it might be a Death Eater. Who knew these days? Of course, this probably wasn’t much better.

“That’s right, Mudblood.” Malfoy eyed her with contempt. “So where’s Krum?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” replied Hermione icily, “but he went back to the ship.” Suddenly Hermione wished Krum would come back. She didn’t want to be here alone with Malfoy. She got up to go back inside, but stopped. She didn’t feel much like facing Ron just yet. She sat back down and sighed.

“Couldn’t stand to be around you anymore, I suppose,” drawled Malfoy. “Can’t blame him, really.”

Hermione thought it beneath her to reply and so she maintained her huffy silence.

“What’s the matter, Granger?” taunted Malfoy. “Jealous of Ginny, huh? You wanted to go with Longbottom?”

“Oh, just shut up, Malfoy,” said Hermione bitingly. “Just shut up. I’m in no mood right now, all right?”

To her immense surprise, the next words out of Malfoy’s mouth were, “I’m sorry.”

“What did you say?” These simple words had sent Hermione reeling. Had Malfoy just apologized? She studied him. Was she imagining it, or did he look different than usual? Yes, she decided, something’s definitely different. Maybe it was that the customary malicious glint in his eyes was missing, or that he wasn’t wearing his trademark smirk.

“I said I’m sorry, okay? Now what are you staring at?” snapped Malfoy. Okay, maybe not so different. “I’m waiting for Crabbe. He’s bringing drinks.”

Hermione looked away. She’d thought maybe…but no. It was the same old Malfoy. She shivered in the cold, lost in her thoughts.

She jumped when suddenly a cloak was draped over her shoulders. She turned in surprise, hardly believing what was happening. It COULDN’T be happening. No way. Malfoy had given her his cloak?

“Er…thanks,” Hermione said. There was an awkward silence. Hermione’s mind, usually quick to find answers, was doing cartwheels trying to figure out what was going on here.

She glanced over at Malfoy. He was sitting by her now, on the bench. He noticed her looking and got up quickly. He jammed his fists into his pockets and retreated over to the castle’s brick wall. “Sorry.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Hermione said softly. “You can sit there. I don’t care.” What was she SAYING? Of course she cared!

Slowly Malfoy came back over and sat down. “Wonder where Crabbe is.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled over the pair of them again. The wind was picking up, but Hermione hardly noticed. Her heart was beating so fast, she half-expected it to burst right out of her chest. It was drowning everything else out; surely Malfoy could hear it, too.

“So,” she said, when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Malfoy looked at her. “Have fun at the Ball?”

“Um, yeah. You?” Was she actually having a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy, the trio’s sworn enemy? Surely not. No, she was dreaming. Maybe a nightmare. In any case, she’d wake up any minute now. Any minute…

Malfoy shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” Hermione nodded. Her tongue felt too heavy to speak.

By now the wind was so strong that it was stinging Hermione’s eyes, bringing up salty tears. “Are you crying, Granger?” Malfoy asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Hermione hastily wiped the tears off her face. “No.” Malfoy was concerned? That wasn’t possible. Yet it was happening right before her very eyes.

And then the tears really did come. “Yes,” she sobbed, and suddenly nothing was real: not the biting wind, nor the dark, deserted grounds, nor the earlier ball. Only Malfoy was real, as she sobbed onto his shoulder, spilling out her soul to a person she had always hated. She told him about everything: Krum, Ron, her fears of Death Eaters and Voldemort, even about Sirius, not caring that it was Malfoy, not caring about the consequences. She knew, somehow, that her secrets were safe with him. She just knew. Everything was upside-down, crazy, insane-yet it felt so right to be here with Malfoy now.

When Hermione was done crying at last, Malfoy took her tear-stained face tenderly in his hands and wiped away a few stray tears. He whispered into her ear, “I don’t think Crabbe’s bringing the drinks,” and then kissed her right on the lips. She was surprised, but pleasantly surprised, and didn’t pull away, but kissed back. When they finally broke apart, the whole world was spinning and the only thing Hermione could see was Malfoy. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly once more, a gentle, sweet kiss. He then stroked her hair soothingly for a few minutes before getting up and disappearing into the night.

Hermione put a hand to her lips, replaying the kiss in her mind. She slowly rose to her feet in a dreamlike state and returned to the castle as in her mind she argued with herself if it had been real or not.

It was only when Malfoy gave her a slight smile as she passed him on the way to the common room that she knew that it had, indeed, been real.

She was momentarily paralyzed as this sunk in. She had kissed Draco Malfoy, the cruel pureblooded Slytherin, her enemy, Harry’s rival. The realization shocked her, jumpstarting her heart so that it sped up to about one hundred beats per second, making her head swim, her vision hazy.

But then, she thought, as she climbed into her bed that night, a smile stretching across her face, maybe it’s not so surprising.

Maybe it’s just Christmas magic.

~THE END~