FIC: Alone for Christmas (Hermione/Draco - 3870 - G)

[mini_fest_mod]

Title: Alone for Christmas
Artist: phoenix_fancies
Pairing(s): Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: Narcissa hears that Hermione will be all alone for Christmas, and so she decides to take her in.
Word Count: 3870ish
Rating: G
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: Endless thanks to my beta, who is always, always ready for me. Also, I’m American, and this one shows it. Apologies to the fairer tongue.
Summary: Hermione’s boss wants her to get out there, so she does.


Hermione Granger walked out of her annual review with her spirit low and temper up. It seemed she was faced with the same problem that had always plagued her, and she was just bloody sick of it. Her supervisor wanted her to increase her "professional network," to help really propel their team into the next fiscal year with a public blaze of glory. Of course, the way she looked through her office window at Draco Malfoy gave obvious tenor to where her boss wanted things to go.

The schmoozing way. Hermione hated it, and schmoozing hated her right back. Unlike some people, schmoozing seemed like a waste of valuable time that could be better employed, say, doing her actual job.

Draco was new to the department, and what he lacked in experience he supposedly made up for in... "Malfoyness." The family's reputation had grown to new and greater heights beyond even their pre-war levels of prestige. Now, though, he followed in his mother's wake. For a change, the matriarch was at the helm, and there seemed to be nothing that stood in her way. Narcissa Malfoy had the Midas touch, and Draco was by her side, helping to usher an era of prosperity for the two.

Meanwhile, Hermione was starting to stagnate in her career. Hard work and dedication weren’t enough to guarantee success, and while her name had opened a few doors, she was stuck not wanting to find herself with a reputation of just resting on her laurels.

Hermione slumped into her chair. Worst lead into the holidays ever... except for that year in the tent, probably.

Harry and Ginny and Ron and everyone were away for the holidays, but Hermione, a.k.a. the boring, responsible one, had decided to stay home and work. Now, she had the entire holiday to herself to stew over her fate... her boring, unpopular, lonely fate.

In her periphery, as she glared at the folio on her desk, she could see the heads of others in her office swivel before the gentle waft of Narcissa Malfoy's perfume filled the room. It was lunchtime, and, not unusually, Mrs Malfoy was using it as an excuse to see Draco and poke about.

Despite her sulking mood, Hermione sat up in her chair and busied herself. She had to get through some things and then figure out how to re-insert herself into all of the events she had previously RSVPed "no" to.

"Ask her now, or I will, Draco."

Hermione heard the quiet command with the ears of an obedient girl who had always known when her mother was very serious about something. Her heart skipped a beat. The next thing she knew, the unmistakable click of heeled shoes neared her desk.

"Good afternoon, Hermione."

Hermione took a deep breath and smiled as she turned in her chair to face Narcissa Malfoy.

This was one of the strangest things about the wizarding world to date: the recurrence of figures who had once been "them" who were now "us". She was generally settled with everything, but this "someone's mother/enemy/political player" combination was a lot for Hermione to swallow, and being less than politically savvy, it always put her on the wrong foot.

"Narcissa! Always lovely to have you in the office."

"I'm sure, dear. You're looking... well," Narcissa said with a smile and quick look from Hermione's eyebrows to the shoulder of her plain woolen robes.

Hermione didn't reply.

Worry flitted across Narcissa's face, but she quickly recovered. "I'm hoping you'll reconsider coming to my solstice gala tomorrow, Hermione."

Like a whip, Hermione's mind went to her index of typical reasons to "not go." As she opened her lips to from softly and make her excuses, she paused. Turning her frown into a beaming smile, Hermione took a deep breath. "Actually, I would love to come. My calendar has some new openings."

"Splendid!" Narcissa smiled back, shooting an "I told you so" look back at Draco. "By any chance, are you free for my Yule brunch as well?"

"You know something, I am." Spinning to glare at her boss through the window, Hermione gave a little wave and a shark's grin. "My work schedule has gotten very clear, suddenly." With emphasis on the last word, Hermione moved back to Narcissa. "I’ll have to sort out what to wear, though."

As if given an excuse to breathe, Narcissa took a deep breath and leaned forward conspiratorially. "May I make a recommendation?"

Hermione pushed her chair away from her desk and stood. "I'd love it. I'll go right now." Hermione began to gather her things, including the purchasing stamp that she was allowed to use for her work "needs."

"Seriously?"

Grabbing her cloak from a rack, Hermione shrugged it on. "Very."

"I'm free; I could show you?"

"Splendid."

"Shall we?"

"Let's." Hermione swept an arm open and watched as Narcissa led the way out, back past Draco's desk. He gave her his cheek dutifully, but he mostly watched Hermione as she marched out right after her.

Hermione landed with a soft sigh in an armchair in Narcissa Malfoy's house. The room was full of purchases courtesy of the billing department at work, and her feet were absolutely killing her. She kicked her boots off and flexed her feet.

Not surprisingly, Narcissa Malfoy was a woman who could shop.

Although Mrs Malfoy had insisted multiple times that Hermione call her "Cissy", she just couldn't do it. She was Draco's mum, and Bellatrix LeStrange's sister, and the woman who had saved Harry. Calling her "Cissy" was nowhere near going to happen, ever.

She could, however, follow her home and spend a few days in her guest suite. She was on an assignment from work to buddy up with the notables, and how much more notable could one get?

There was a knock on the door. Hermione, not moving except for her wrist, opened the door with her wand.

"Granger."

It was Draco. "Malfoy."

"The office is flabbergasted. No one got anything done after you left."

Good.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, rolling her head around to find Draco in her doorway.

"It looks like it did you good, though," he continued. He looked at her and leaned in the doorway. "This is the most relaxed I've ever seen you look."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione scowled at him.

Draco turned away. "Typical Granger," he muttered. "Tea will be ready in 15 minutes."

"Thanks."

With a shrug, Draco closed the door and walked away.

Hermione stretched in her chair, realizing she was quite hungry, indeed. However, she was also very aware that she’d been in and out of her work clothes a fair bit while shopping. She dug into her packages to find something fresh. She pulled on a smart robe she’d gotten for work.

The tendons in the muscles of her feet demanded that she never put her boots on again, for today, at least. Hermione flexed her feet into the plush rug and took a deep breath before leaving the guest suite.

She realized very quickly that she had no idea where to go. She pulled the door closed behind her and tuned her ear to any sound that might lead her in the right direction. Hermione didn’t have to work so hard, though, as Draco came around the corner.

He must have been looking for her. He certainly looked at her for a long moment, particularly at her lacquered toenails. Hermione looked at his feet in return, and he was wearing socks.

"Am I over-dressed? Under-dressed?" she asked, trying to reason what he was up to.

"You look fine."

"All… right?"

Draco shook himself, then gestured for her to follow him. Once they arrived in the dining room, Draco kept to himself as they ate, and Hermione lost track of him as Narcissa worked to engage her. From office gossip, to a suddenly packed social schedule, from soup to nuts, Hermione eventually lost track of Draco, who, she assumed, slipped away when he was finished.

Hermione woke up the next morning with a spike of dread in her heart. Had she really just walked out of work at lunch? Had she really billed all those things to her expense account? Had she actually spent the afternoon with Narcissa Malfoy and enjoyed herself?!

As the panic set in, someone made a noise in the sitting room of her suite. Hermione squeaked, trying to burrow into the blankets as much as she could.

"Hermione, dear? Are you awake?" Narcissa called from the other room.

Clearing her throat, Hermione replied with a ‘yes’, only barely catching herself from saying "ma’am" at the last minute.

"I owled your boss," Narcissa called from the other room.

Panic licked at Hermione, and she felt the heat of shame behind her ears, spreading to her cheeks. "Oh?"

"Yes, I told her you were going to work on the upcoming Remembrance memorial with me this morning."

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. She hated the Remembrance memorial. Hated it.

"She owled back; she thought it sounded like a great idea!"

Hermione grabbed a pillow to cover her face as she began to stomp her feet and throw a tantrum behind her bed curtains. She did not, absolutely, under any circumstances, want to do that.

Narcissa opened the French doors between the sitting room and the bedroom. "It’s the five-year anniversary. I’ll just make the same arrangements as the first one, but buy more flowers."

Hermione froze. What?

"Now, we can skive off and go to the spa."

Spa?

"Draco’s coming, too. Unless you mind?"

Hermione pulled the pillow away from her face. "You’re saying I don’t have to go to work, and I don’t have to be involved with planning the Remembrance, and I’m going to a spa?"

"They always said you were the clever one…" Narcissa teased.

Hermione pulled the bed curtains aside and stuck her head out. "Well, if you insist."

"I do."

"Give me ten minutes."

Hermione and Narcissa left Draco with a menacing-looking goblin who had an even more menacing-looking shaver in his hand. They walked through a serene foyer to an oasis to begin their day of beauty. Once they were settled, Narcissa leaned over to say, "Draco’s arrangements are nearly identical to ours. The goblin is just to… ‘macho’ things up a bit."

Hermione was plucked, buffed, polished, massaged, and conditioned from top to toe and within an inch of her life. The only thing they hadn’t bothered to re-do was Hermione’s pedicure. She’d gotten it done with Ginny the weekend before as a taste of the holiday she was not taking.

When Hermione and Narcissa rejoined Draco in front of the private Floo that would take them back to Narcissa’s, they were all in dressing gowns, all looking perfectly relaxed.

Draco had a look of sleepy confusion when Hermione caught him looking at her. Well, looking at her toes again, really.

"They’re the same as yesterday," he stated artlessly.

"Indeed," Hermione replied with equal artlessness.

Narcissa, however, asked, "You don’t like them, Draco?"

"No, I do," Draco answered his mother like a good boy would. Then he scowled at her. He lifted his hand up to rub his eyes, still waking up it seemed. He gave his mother a smile like a grimace, and walked through the Floo, not to be seen again.

Certain she was out of a loop, Hermione politely waited for Narcissa to lead them back to her abode. The solstice gala was tonight and Hermione, already very sleepy from her deep tissue massage, wanted a kip before the event.

"Fuck."

Hermione heard Draco before she saw him. This did not add to her wavering confidence, as she fought the usual feeling that someone had slapped lipstick on a goat and called it ‘Hermione Granger.’

"It was your mother’s idea. Complain to her if you don’t like it."

Not for the first time in the last decade or so, Hermione squared her shoulders opposite Draco.

"You look… really nice," Draco replied, although he seemed to be looking at something on the ceiling and about ten feet behind her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but politely replied, "Thanks. You also look nice." Hermione found this easy enough to say. It was common knowledge that Draco was nice-looking but also generally took great care with his appearance.

He looked like there was something else he wanted to say, but it was caught behind his tightly closed lips. When he finally looked ready, he took a long breath through his nose in preparation. He opened his mouth and… he belly gurgled.

Hermione laughed. "Is that so?"

Two small dots bloomed red in his cheeks. Then, his mother walked into the hallway. She was officious-looking, like a gorgeous hostess with a laundry list of things to do. Seeing the two of them, Narcissa smiled.

Draco looked at his mother. "This isn’t going to work; stop interfering, please." Then he turned and walked down an intersecting hall to where the solstice gala would be taking place.

Narcissa gave a peevish look at Draco’s back before turning back to Hermione. She took the younger woman’s arm and linked it with her own before guiding her down the same hall Draco had just used.

"Please don’t feel pressured to stay too late or talk to anyone boring tonight, Hermione. Of course, we’ll begin to eat after midnight, but I understand these things are tiresome for you. And if you need an interruption, Draco and I are a just pointed look away."

As Narcissa finished her pep-talk, they moved onto the highest landing of a grand staircase. Flashbulbs went off for a very long while. Hermione smiled and waved as was her reflex now. Once the press had subsided, Narcissa unlinked their arms and took the stairs away from Hermione, leaving her on the landing.

Hermione knew to follow shortly after, making way for Narcissa’s impressive but not impractical robes. They trailed between the two women as the descended the stairs, and Hermione felt once more like she was going to battle, armed this time with small talk and provocative support garments.

It was about one in the morning when Draco excused them from the table. Some old codger had pinned them both at the dining table and was trying to bluster in about something from work. Hermione had a headache and her feet ached and she was trying to be both heroine and a good guest and schmooze like her boss had wanted.

She was so tired.

Draco took her to her rooms and sat her on the chair where she had landed the first night. Was that only yesterday? Unbelievable.

Hermione peeled off her boots and socks and rubbed one foot and then the other. Draco tried to make his way to the door to leave but he wouldn’t stop looking at her and that slowed his progress.

"What?" she finally asked, planting her feet on the floor but without otherwise moving.

Draco slid his hands over his face, looking first at the ceiling and then at her. "I find I quite fancy you. Of course, you have every reason not to fancy me in return. However, my mother, somehow, has keyed into this, and put us here together for this party as if fairy dust will rain down and every terrible thing I’ve said and done will have been erased. I apologize. That’s it. I’m sorry. I’ll go now."

Hermione watched as his feet finally began to do more than shuffle. "Wh-what? Wait, what?" She stood up and grabbed his arm. "You fancy me?"

"Yes. But you’re dull and don’t see it."

"See, I believe the part where you think I’m dull, but the other bit is nonsense."

"Typical Granger. You are absolutely splendid, but you never see when a bloke is interested. Why is that?"

"You’re having a laugh."

"No."

"Since when, then?"

"The third Remembrance."

"What?"

Draco sighed. He pulled her hand away from his arm and put it between his hands. "Although we received invitations every year, I first attended the third Remembrance. I knew I didn’t belong but somehow my mother convinced me to come. I might as well have rolled in dragon dung as popular as I was there. You were the only person who would let me within five feet of you. You even sat next to me after Weasley had vacated the seat just before the speeches started."

Hermione remembered that, but she had just thought it was a combination of Ron being Ron, Weasleys and Malfoys having generations of bad blood, et cetera, et cetera. "Well, sitting in the chair next to yours was hardly a heroic feat."

"It meant a lot. It meant a lot to me and to the people who could see you sitting there beside me. You, of all people, had every reason to… treat me as I had treated you."

Hermione looked up into his eyes. There was a real sincerity there. "Draco…"

"I was in a tailspin before then. After that, though, I could focus on real life again, and my mum found projects for me to work on. I got my feet back under me. I didn’t know when I applied for my job that it was in your department. Then I got to the office and there you were, working. Really working. As if the whole of Wizarding Britain didn’t owe you everything.

"I mean, Potter, Weasley, they took time to be young and decompress, but you got right to work. It was kind of astonishing. And inspirational to me."

Hermione took a deep breath. She hadn’t really taken the time to think about it that way.

Draco took a deep breath and stepped back, away from her. He let her hand fall from between his. "You’re an amazing person, and I fancy you, and my mother fancies herself a matchmaker, and for that I apologize."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because it’s not a mutual feeling, and because my mother, while not leading you here under false pretenses, did have her own agenda."

"How do you know it’s not mutual?" Hermione asked.

Draco gave her a hard look and then turned his head as if to imply she was being dull again.

"I mean," Hermione continued, "how do you know it could never happen? I don’t know, do I? If you had asked me on Monday where I’d be tonight, I certainly wouldn’t have said here!"

Draco turned his head to consider her point. He nodded, but didn’t do anything else.

"You are one of the few non-Potters and non-Weasleys who seem to have any interest in me or toleration for my… dedication."

"There’s Longbottom."

Hermione gave him a hard look. "No. There is not Longbottom."

"He’s grown up well."

"Indeed. I kissed him once. It could only be surpassed in ickiness by my actual kissing of Harry Potter."

"Ah," Draco said with a frown.

"It was a good test, though."

"Hm?"

"Kissing Neville. I mean… He really grew up well, and he was my first friend on the train, and he is as unwilling to compromise his values just to be popular as I am."

"Ah. Well, see, this is what I mean. I am nearly opposite of all those Neville traits."

"Not all."

Draco smiled. "My unpopularity is not something I willfully sought out, Granger."

"I mean, you grew up well, too. I mean, Malfoyish, but not bad."

Draco leaned in, his smile growing. "You think I’m not bad looking?"

"I told you earlier that you look nice." Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave him a glare.

He pulled away, but his smile kept growing.

"What’s that look for?" Hermione demanded.

"How am I supposed to look when the girl I fancy looks me in the eye and says I’m not bad-looking!"

"I don’t know!"

"Well, this is how!" Draco gestured to his face.

"I like that. Smiling suits you."

Hermione watched as his smile flattened, and his lips folded together. Draco swallowed and cleared his throat. "Are you trying to let me down easy or chat me up?"

Hermione looked away. She shrugged. He did look nice. He was being nice. It might have been the late hour or the euphoria, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had found him actively irritating. "Well, there’s an easy way to find out."

"What’s that?"

"Let’s have a kiss, then."

"No. I mean, you don’t have to just because I said all those things."

"I know. I just think… we won’t really know until we try. Maybe you’ll think I’m a lousy snog." She shrugged again, her nerves taking residence in her shoulders and feet.

"Yeah?" Draco asked. He was leaning away from her, cautious but hopeful.

Hermione nodded. She closed her eyes and let her hands relax away from her hips.

She waited several breaths before Draco’s fingers folded over her hands. Her breath became shorter as she felt his body move closer to hers. She tilted her face up a bit, and Draco bent to meet her lips with his.

A quick inhale betrayed her.

Draco’s face fell away a bit. "Stop?"

"No," Hermione said, leaning forward toward where she guessed he was.

A loud puff escaped his lips. He pulled her hands closer to his body, by his sides. This time, when their lips met, she pushed forward instead of back.

His mouth was soft against hers, but his lips pressed into hers with a conviction. After a long moment, Hermione broke it, needing to exhale and take a breath. She turned away, but also pulled their hands closer to her body as she did.

Draco stood almost motionless. His breath was heavy, as though he’d just run around the house a few times. Hermione raised her right hand, still holding his fingers in hers. Draco’s body straightened. She was stroking his fingers very subtly.

"Hermione."

She looked up at him. "Better than Neville, don’t you think?"

"Well, I’m not as familiar with him as you are, but I found that to be… very nice."

"Fair enough." Hermione found she was holding her breath, so she took a deep inhale to restart her breathing. Draco was still holding her hands.

"I know you’re here until Mother’s Yule brunch, but would you like to come for New Year’s Eve? I’d invite you out, but the press."

Hermione nodded. She was looking at his face, really looking for the first time. She opened her mouth to say something, but a yawn forced its way out first. She lifted her right hand to cover her mouth. When she was done, she gave Draco an embarrassed smile.

"I should go," he said softly with a squeeze of her hand. "Sleep well, Hermione."

"Good night, Draco."

Their hands pulled apart, and Draco turned and left the room.

Sleepily, Hermione took off her fine robes and undid her hair and make-up. She pulled on something to sleep in and crawled into bed. She fell asleep with little point of hope in her heart that was a bit brighter than her usual solstice feelings. Perhaps things would be getting brighter, indeed.