Harry Potter: My World is Here With You
Title: My World Is Here With You
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,588
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for mini_fest. First of all, thank you so much to my beta, Tabi! Your kinds words reassured me of my story! And a thank you to my wonderful friend, Aly, who has been there for me since the beginning of my fan fiction writing days. It’s good to have you back, cheerleading me through my typical writing problems!
Prompt: #84 from 2010 - Possibly AU, someone has been out of the country or away from Wizarding Britain for years. They show up in Diagon Alley during the festive season and run into...
Summary: Five years can change many lives, but it can take as little as five days to change just two lives. It certainly is helpful that the holidays open everyone's spirits.
It had been almost five years; one thousand, six hundred, and ninety-one sunsets and just as many sunrises. Five hundred and sixty-seven bottles of wine on three hundred and eighteen terraces, gardens, and rooftops had been thrown around in those days.
She could have counted numerous other things: trains boarded, inns checked into, historical buildings entered, and languages spoken. In fact she had. Hermione had written everything she had done and encountered since the day after the Second Wizarding War ended.
It had been one thousand, six hundred, and ninety-one days since she had took a single step in the Wizarding part of England. Four separate days of Christmas had come and gone and she had never been back to celebrate the seasons with her friends.
Her main concern after the war had finally finished, was to find her mother and father along the Australian coast and turn them back into her parents. After long explanations and long thought-out conversations, Drs. Grangers had decided upon staying in Australia. With Hermione being a witch and all, see could easily make trips to see them.
However, instead of returning back to Wizarding Britain, Hermione decided to travel the world.
Four holiday seasons had passed and for every one of them, she had decided on staying with her parents. Four New Years Eves had flown behind her and she never went to see Harry or Ron or Ginny or anyone who had been a part of life for those seven years.
However, after four straight Christmas gift exchanges with her parents, they decided a fifth was one too many and convinced her to return to her real home, to her real life, to the world where a witch truly belonged.
After fifteen headaches, twenty-one signatures, and one gigantic statue of a toucan, the feisty witch had finally been able to get an international portkey through the Brazilian Wizarding government to get back home to London.
Unfortunately, time had been running out and instead of incurring more headaches that would occur with an arrival at the Burrow, Hermione opted to keep her sanity and agreed to arrive in front of Gringotts.
For that reason, after one thousand, six hundred, and ninety-one days around the world, Hermione found herself standing in Diagon Alley close to midnight, five days left until Christmas Eve.
The second her feet landed on the snow-covered cobblestone path, her heart skipped a beat and a grin won its fight on her face. Almost five years of constant travelling had finally worn her out and she had no idea until that very moment. Eighteen thousand, six hundred, and twenty-seven pictures of the world were a feat in itself, but nothing could be more spectacular than a view of Diagon Alley decorated with twinkling fairy lights, floating holly, and a giant Christmas tree in its centre.
Hermione suspected that the snow had been gently falling for a few hours by the time she had arrived, because in the few minutes she had been standing in wonderment, her hair had become a landing spot for the plump snowflakes.
The snow fell upon her hair for seventy-one seconds before she blinked; realising that the last person she expected to see was the first person she encountered. Hermione blinked again and her eyes rested on the face of Draco Malfoy as he continued walking towards her general direction.
Another agonizing twelve seconds felt like sixty minutes as he continued walking, Quality Quidditch Supplies bags in one hand and Flourish and Blotts bags in the other. He began walking passed her, Malfoy’s grey eyes locked into hers and she didn’t dare blink as he warmly nodded at her, and continued walking past.
It seemed like ages before Hermione took steps towards the Leaky Cauldron; she didn’t bother counting the time that slipped by her.
Thoughts of the blond man couldn’t escape her mind as she began to quickly shake the snow from her crazy curls and walking the thirty-two steps towards her destination.
Hermione hadn’t even opened the door all the way when she had the breath knocked out of her.
Hugs and kisses and shouts of excitement surrounded her, but through all of the catching up and laughter and flipping through pictures, she couldn’t quite forget the slightly smiling face of Draco Malfoy.
. . .
Six-hundred and eighty-three individual twinkling lights hung around the shop’s window, giving anyone who would walk by not a single doubt that Christmas Eve was in four days. However, it was not the festive lighting that had attracted Draco Malfoy to this shop front.
It was the side view of Hermione Granger with her head thrown back in laughter, surrounded by her friends that made him come to a full stop. There would have been no other reason for him to stop in front of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.
However, the twinkling lights beamed in through the glass of the tightly shut windows to land on her face, dancing across her skin, accentuating her features. Every smile she offered began multiplied with every slight flash. When her eyes would close and her tongue would lick her dry lips, Draco would witness it in slow motion.
A huge part of him hated to admit that a small part envied her. She had been gone from the Wizarding world for nearly five years-he had read every news-clipping about it-but yet they all acted as though she had been there all along. He wondered if Blaise, Theo or even Pansy would act the same if he had been gone for just as long.
She moved her lips in an orchestrated fashion, laughing as she responded at something the older Weasel said and Draco couldn’t help but wonder more about her. It intrigued him, made him hungry for that warmth, and it made him question why he was still standing there.
His feet, however, didn’t dare move.
The small percentage of him that envied her continued to grow and turned into pure curiosity.
Despite having cast over thousands of spells, Draco Malfoy had never seen more magic than what currently emanated from Hermione Granger.
A thought crossed his mind about tugging on one of her curls and observing the way it would move. Would it bounce, like her normal effervescence when she had walked through the snow yesterday? Or would it meld into a new position and lay flat? If he had taken anything in about Granger over the years in school, he knew that there was more life in that woman and hopefully every part of her would follow suit.
He was wondering what it would be like to sit with her for a moment, witnessing her chuckle at something he had said, when he realised he was mindlessly gazing. Just then, he saw her turn her head and look straight at him, perfectly into his eyes.
A corner of her lips stretched, offering him a friendly smile-a step up from his greeting the day before.
Draco returned her smile and instead of it feeling strange upon his lips, it actually felt quite nice.
. . .
Ice cream hadn’t been the best idea for a treat, especially since it was so cold outside. However, it had been well over one thousand, six hundred, and ninety-three days since she had even set foot into Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. Hermione would have surely cursed Harry and Ginny if they would not have agreed to stop.
The gelato in Italy had been amazing and the cold coconut water in Rio had been blissful, but nothing made her return to Wizarding London more official than a scoop of pumpkin and chocolate with caramel swirls.
Hermione was sure that Ginny would have said she was bloody mad to her face it she hadn’t been thrilled that her best friend was back
Even though Christmas Eve was just three days away, they were still out shopping for last minute items despite the loads of wrapped presents around the Burrow. Harry insisted on buying more toys and Quidditch items for little Teddy. Hermione smiled as she thought of how Harry was a affectionate and devoted godfather and wondered if he would ever be up to the task of having another godchild.
‘Someday,’ Hermione thought.
She repositioned herself along the brick wall outside of Tinklebinks’ Toys and Trinkets, finishing her small serving of ice cream and waiting for Harry and Ginny to finish inside. Hermione had already purchased all of the gifts for the children, twenty-seven in total-presents, not children-and decided she didn’t want to deal with the chaotic buzzing.
The last bite of pumpkin just entered her mouth when she spotting Draco Malfoy, again, leaving Twilfitt and Tatting's with his mother behind him. Licking the last remains of ice cream, but keeping an unnoticeable watch on him, Hermione noticed him turn to his mother and usher her towards another shop, pointing to Quality Quidditch Supplies behind him.
Hermione threw her empty container and spoon away, observing his feet walking on the cobblestone as his shoes moved the sloshing snow around. When she realised that his footsteps stopped in front of her, she looked up, noticing how different his features looked.
“Granger,” he greeted, void of any malice, she noted.
“Hey, Malfoy.” She nodded her head in addition to her own greeting.
Draco pushed his hands into the pockets of his cloak and shifted the weight on his feet a couple of times.
“Well, see ya,” he said after a moment in silence.
“Yeah, okay.”
He made to walk away, but turned around to face her once more when she called out to him, liking the way her cheeks were red from the cold.
“It was good to see you, Malfoy.”
The blush in her face went unnoticed as he smiled and walked away.
. . .
This year, Narcissa Malfoy decided on sending invitations to their annual New Year’s party a tad bit late. Draco’s mother insisted that the decorations and planning were more important than the guest list. Her other excuse had been that invitations were meaningless anyway because anyone could come if the word of mouth reached them in fair time.
However, it was necessary that the priority guests received official invitations by owl.
This was the reason that Draco Malfoy was sitting in his study, hand writing a personal invitation with his best eagle quill and the best intentions as his mother was in the library pouring out invitations with a few waves of her wand.
He had agreed when his mother had stated that the best way to keep moving on from the past wars and battles, was to start each year fresh and try to put the prejudices aside.
Harry Potter, surprisingly, had been the first person Narcissa had put on her guest list. It didn’t surprise him, however, when she had explained her reasons, how he had confirmed Draco’s state of well being on that fateful day.
This thought occurred to Draco seven-hundred and eighty-eight times since he first heard it.
It had been at the first annual gathering that Draco had attempted to put the prejudices behind him and come to a sort of understanding with Potter and Weasley, and mostly everyone else after.
It would have only been natural to invite her as well, now that she was back in the Wizarding world for good.
It was unnatural that he had tried writing the same invitation over fifteen times. It was also unnatural that he seemed to keep fighting with his own thoughts, that the only reason he was particular about this certain invitation was because he felt something for this witch. The other side of him would argue that it was because this would be her first time attending.
Eventually he couldn’t argue with the seventy-two butterflies that appeared in his stomach as he sent the invite out into the night.
. . .
The next day was Christmas Eve and Hermione was in the kitchen at the Burrow with Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fleur, and Angelina. The mother hen of the Weasleys was adamant about making sure that everything was prepared for the next day and all they would have to do is cook all the food and set the table.
Since the family was branching out more and more every year, it was now tradition to do the holiday dinner on Christmas Eve so everyone could focus on spending more collective time, coming and going as they pleased on Christmas day.
Hermione and Ginny were cutting up all the vegetables that were going to be cooked with the roast and to be put in the mince pie.
“I received the most interesting owl post last night,” Hermione told Ginny, making sure everyone else was out of eavesdropping range.
“Oh?” Ginny asked, looking up from the carrot she had just begun cutting.
“An invitation.” Hermione tossed the cut potatoes into the large pot. “To an extravagant New Year’s party hosted by the Malfoy’s.”
The brunette’s heart dropped unexpectedly when Ginny mentioned that she, Ron, and Harry all received one as well, but earlier in the day. She also told her that the Malfoy’s hosted one every year at a different location.
“Are you going?”
“Of course! Harry and I go every year. The grudges have disappeared over the years, but Mum and Dad refuse to ever go.”
“I see.”
Ginny looked up at her again.
“Certainly, you’re going?”
Hermione hid her grin as she admitted her plans of attending.
. . .
The clock opposite his bed was ticking away, vindictively slow. The seven-hundred and twenty-one seconds until midnight seemed more like thousands.
Sitting up against his large headboard, Draco was playing around with the ribbons that tied a small gift box closed.
He had received a response early that morning from the invitation he had sent to Hermione, with another invitation in return
Midnight. Tomorrow. You know where.
It was written in her elegant writing, impossibly improved from their years at Hogwarts.
Draco had just finished opening gifts with his parents when he they parted ways, pretending to be turning in for the night. Instead, he was waiting anxiously.
ruth be told, he was baffled at how much his world had changed in nearly five years, even more so in just five days.
The clock finally released its signal that midnight had finally approached.
Draco Malfoy stumbled to his feet, straightened his cloak, brushed his hair with his fingers, double checked that the gift was in his hand, and disapparated away.
When the tugging feeling in his abdomen gave way, he opened his eyes to see Hermione already standing in the centre of Diagon Alley with the fairy lights in the Christmas tree fading into the background as her greeting smile dulled everything around her.
Draco couldn’t feel his feet moving, but he sure noticed the distance closing between them, Hermione still standing in front of the tree.
When he finally reached her, she stuck her arms out in front of her, a gift box identical in size to his.
“Happy Christmas, Draco.” He took the gift, handing her the one he had been fidgeting with for almost an hour.
“Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
Before he could comprehend it, her arms were wrapped around his neck and his arms were closing in around her waist. The familiar scent that he noticed every time he saw her, weighed heavily in his senses, but he didn’t mind one bit.
It was unquestionably a happy Christmas.