Chapter 8
Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and Hermione was seriously debating buying herself an enchanted dildo at the rate things were going. She needed to step it up a notch from her muggle version, and while she was at it, get some new lingerie so she could pretend it was for Malfoy so as to keep her fantasies alive. Maybe, just maybe, she would get to show him one day. Every shared moment was as bittersweet as the frosty air outside.
She had been accumulating Christmas presents from Diagon Alley over the past 2 weekends because it was simply so full of holiday cheer that she wanted to bathe in it as much as possible. Her heart was fullest during the month of December, even as she hastily cast and re-cast warming charms repeatedly, indoors and out. She had just finished up her work week and felt energized in spite of it - likely due to another bill passing Wednesday and having made some great headway in the days following. Usually Hermione would never think of going to Diagon Alley in the evenings, but others had told her of how different it is when Yule is just around the corner. Somehow, she had never managed to make it on a December night since it got rebuilt. This Friday, Hermione Granger was going out.
She bundled up and was resolute that her first stop be finding hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. She apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, smiling at the bartender while rushing off to the brick passageway. The wall opened up to a bright, bustling street, and Hermione gladly stepped through. The shops were lit from within with street lamps glowing every few meters. She wasn’t sure if it was actually snowing, or if the evening sky was enchanted with flurries slowly making their way to the ground. As she walked along, taking everything in, it reminded her of the wonders of Hogwarts: miniature enchanted Santa Claus and his reindeers were flying about; talking snowmen were greeting passer-bys; holly seemed to sparkle and sway atop the entrances to the shops; carolers could be heard in the distance, and the air smelled of gingerbread. Gingerbread. I must find where that’s coming from, too. The street had looked festive in the daytime, but everything felt more cozy with the warm glow and gently falling snow. She noted a family of nutcrackers walking up and down the street, and thought of how much she would have loved to see this as a kid. She distantly wondered if wizards like Malfoy ever celebrated Christmas, or came to Diagon Alley in December, but let the thought fade as she absorbed herself in the surrounding splendor.
She came to where the street opened up and was surprised to see small wooden stands that she hadn’t seen there before. Wonder growing, she approached and saw they held all sorts of things: wooden decorations, candles (enchanted and otherwise), enchanted figurines, magical toys, winter clothing, jewelry, and festive treats. THIS is the place Hermione had been smelling. She headed straight for the crowded stall to get a better look at what was on offer. She didn’t recognize everything, but she was excited to see they had a special variety of hot chocolates as well. Of course she would order the peppermint hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and a bag of gingerbread men. As the first sip of the hot chocolate spread warmth to her insides, she felt like she could finally relax and enjoy her evening.
Hermione let herself idly wander the streets, and was curious to see how far the festive spirit spread. Her orientation was cast aside as she milled about in the darkened streets for the first time, no aim in mind. She turned around and found other places to be when the glow of the lights ended and let herself gaze into active shops, watching the people shop within. She was slowly working her way through the spicy, chewy gingerbread cookies when her eyes snapped to a familiar figure inside one of the shops. She stopped, squinting her eyes to see if she was correctly assessing the figure through the wonky glass window, but she was not mistaken. The tall blond male was walking around a sort of antiques shop - thankfully, not a Dark one this time. The parallel skipped across Hermione’s mind as she numbly chewed her cookie, engrossed in the curiosity of watching him. She had to know what Draco Malfoy was doing inside an odds and ends shop on a cold December Friday night.
Hermione lifted her hood up and reached for her bag, making it as though she were rummaging through it. The whole time she kept her eyes on Malfoy and back turned to the street and remained as inconspicuous as possible. He appeared to be on a mission and was carefully yet quickly scanning each surface he came across. He was definitely looking on the surfaces, and not at the tables, dressers, or the like themselves. He moved to the far end of the shop and stopped to browse in a corner, intent on surveying it. Hermione moved a few steps to the right to get a better angle on what he was looking at. It didn’t help much, though she could see he was looking at a long table full of... things. Most of the things were small and metallic, though the table could have been filled with a hundred different small objects of varying shapes. She was eager to see what he picked up, weighed in his hand, and turned over with serious interest. Reading only his formal body language, she couldn’t guess if he was pleased with what he found. He walked up to the till where a bent old wizard presided and handed over coins. He refused the item to be wrapped and simply put it in his pocket. Glancing around the shop once more, he made a swift exit into the street. Hermione waited to see if he would come out on her side of the street, but thankfully she saw no sign of him
It was her time to move. Moving with intent for the first time that evening, she found herself entering the shop filled with knick knacks she had never been in before. Politely browsing while making her way to the back, Hermione wanted to see what manner of items he had passed up before settling on something from the back table. There was everything imaginable on display, plus more. She could hardly begin to describe some of the oddities she passed by, but others were as simple as an ornate comb. She made a mental note to ask Harry if he had been in this shop before - or gods forbid, anything he raided had ended up in this shop somehow - and pressed on to the back table, determined not to get too distracted.
A myriad of shining metals and sparkling items met her stare. It looked like it had been looted from a dragon’s lair. Small items like rings to larger items like vases graced the table, and Hermione was at a loss to guess what Malfoy could have picked up. It could have been a ring, but no, there were too many to have picked one so quickly. Hermione stopped analyzing and simply took in the objects before her for pleasure, wondering if she would find anything here suitable for gifting to her friends.
Out on the street people were still passing by, and she wondered if anybody was watching her.
***
The week before Christmas, the department finally put up Christmas decorations. Hermione thought they were probably the last ones in the whole Ministry, but better late than never. She had never stepped over the line of being unprofessional in her attire, though she knew she was only going to wear red, green and white to the office for the next week. She had smiled at the thought of wearing her best Slytherin green items paired with the crimson of her Gryffindor red items. In the real world, she knew houses didn’t matter anymore - but she just couldn’t resist.
Hermione spent her weekend celebrating Yule with Harry, Ron and Ginny at the Weasley’s, and it had been so wonderful. She’d always loved their big family dynamic, and was glad they had opted for a pre-Christmas get together now that this year had made it clear Hermione didn’t have a “solidified” place in the family anymore. Those had been Molly’s words, and while they were barbed, the witch hadn’t sent any more cool and slicing remarks Hermione’s way. Perhaps she understood that it really was Ron’s fault, or perhaps enough time had passed that she forgot about the blame game. Regardless, Hermione was happy to enjoy Molly’s baking for another year.
Monday saw her back at work. In 2 days they would break for Christmas, and it seemed pointless to most of the witches and wizards she heard complaining around her on the elevator ride up to her department, but Hermione was secretly glad to tie up some loose ends before letting herself relax into festivities. She was also quite glad to see Malfoy and throw her most festive, spicy outfit at him one last time.
Hermione had an above the knee pleated plaid skirt for this very occasion. It was dark red and green, and the green was a near identical match to the Slytherin green silk blouse she had bought earlier in the year. The same one she had brought out a couple of times to taunt Malfoy with, and the same one she would unbutton one button more than she ever had before. The same one whose cuffs she was rolling up to her elbows when Malfoy walked into her office.
“Morning Granger,” he drawled, but with bright eyes.
“Good morning Malfoy,” she echoed in a chipper tone, still fiddling with making the cuffs perfect. She was sat back in her chair so he could see the fullness of her outfit: black stockings with black heels, a skirt that barely made it to the edge of her seat, and an illuminated top that peeked at the body beneath. She blew a strand of her loose and frizzy hair out of her face as she completed her ministrations to her shirt sleeves.
“I see we’re quite festive today,” he smirked. The smirk that made it to his eyes, and she knew she had him reeled in.
“In case you weren’t aware, Christmas is in 3 days,” she gave him a smirk of her own.
“Oh, I’m well aware,” his voice gravelly, he continued, “I’ve actually made some plans this year.”
“You mean you won’t be crying alone in your huge, dreary manor? Pity. I was so hoping that imagery was going to be the Christmas gift you gave me.”
“Wrong again, Granger. I was planning on giving you something else.” Malfoy was the picture of ease, and Hermione was struck rigid with surprise.
“What do you mean “something else”?” she managed to get out, full of suspicion yet not daring to hope.
Malfoy leaned over the desk, his crystal clear eyes staring directly into hers, and stated, “Patience, witch,” before leaning back and opening his files. Hermione was out of her element with no response at the ready. He had her entirely, and he had to know that. She hated when he won these little games, and hated even more how confused he left her. Somehow she was supposed to carry on with the object of her lust and curiosity sitting across the desk from her, unwilling to budge on the move he just made. With nothing left to do, she furiously dove into the day’s work and made sure to grill him extra hard on specifics.
By the time they wrapped up, Hermione felt a nagging something and had almost entirely forgotten why she had been in a mood around Malfoy. Giving herself a moment to breathe as she reorganized her papers, she remembered that he had intentionally left her hanging, and though she didn’t show it, she was completely at his mercy.
“Well, I guess this is the last we’ll see of each other before Christmas, so I hope you enjoy spending it doing... whatever you’re doing,” Hermione smiled and tried her best not to look bothered.
“I certainly will,” he said with a glint in his eye. Malfoy was unhurried in collecting his papers and effects as Hermione watched him; anxious dread growing at whatever was going to happen next - if anything. Hermione tried to school her features into something calm, bored, or disinterested, but the smirk Malfoy gave her knew she had failed.
“Waiting for something, are we?” he toyed.
“Why would you say that?”
“Hmm, whatever you say,” silence fell as Hermione kept track of every movement he made. “You remind me of a dog who’s been promised a treat, Granger.” Hermione blushed in embarrassment, but couldn’t lie down and accept such a snide remark.
“I don’t need you to be fancy with your words if you want to call me a bitch, Malfoy.”
“That too, I suppose,” another one of his devilish smirks filled his face, “but I know what you want. And because you’ve been such an awfully good coworker, I’m going to give it to you.” Hermione couldn’t help but swallow as she stared at Malfoy, standing across the desk from her, who might as well have had her in a chokehold. He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a small rectangular box wrapped in matte red paper tied with a sparkling gold ribbon.
“You got me a gift, in Gryffindor colours,” she half questioned, half stated with raised eyebrows.
“I’m not an insensitive prat, you know. You Gryffindors are all the same, and go mad for your house colours... I figured you would be more willing to accept something you liked the look of.” He set the box down on the desk, and it was at that moment Hermione realized they had never even accidentally touched skin at work. She had mentally reached for the present in his hands, but had been too surprised to follow through before he set it down. She was starved for his touch.
“I... am not sure what to say. Thank you, Malfoy,” she fumbled her words. “I admit I never thought to get you anything... so...” She didn’t know how to finish that. She didn’t want to show how selfish, insensitive, and so absorbed in her own world she had been.
“Don’t worry Granger. I’m sure you’ll think of some way to repay me.”
“Repay you? I thought this was a gift!”
“It is. I didn’t say for whom, though,” she huffed as he continued, “and it comes with conditions. You must be alone when you open it, and you must open it Christmas eve. Let’s say... 8 o’clock, shall we? I feel as though I need fair warning for you, and whatever may come after you open it.” The smirking bastard set Hermione aflame inside.
“Is it really a gift if it comes with terms and conditions? Apart from being utterly confusing, you think I’ll just bend to your will, and that you need a set warning period for ME? Maybe pick a more neutral gift if you’re so concerned! Honestly, you’re so bloody self-righteous, Malfoy. No wonder you thought you needed to dress it up in red and gold; you knew you’d need to convince me to take it. I’m not even sure I want this “gift” at all,” Hermione crossed her arms and huffed indignantly. She wanted it - badly - but why did he have to be like this about a simple gift? Malfoy looked caught between emotions, and she instantly regretted that she might have gone too far in her show.
“Whatever, Granger. It’s a gift. I don’t want it. Take it or don’t, but it’s in your possession,” Malfoy spoke without emotion and walked out. Hermione stared in silence as she let him walk out, and then turned her stare to the small bright package on her desk. It was her turn to be caught between emotions - namely crying, deep confusion, and annoyance. She was annoyed at herself, and the fact she almost pushed him away entirely... she wanted to escape her body right now. She wanted to leave and punish herself for being so her, but in the worst way, and drink until she thought “butterbeer” was her name. But she’d felt like this before, and she always avoided that catastrophe by diving back into work and going twice as hard as she had before.
This time was different. This time, nothing was certain. It wasn’t work that could be amended and done better the next time, and it wasn’t Ron who she was able to talk to and reason with. Malfoy was the great unknown, the expanse and depth of which had not been measured. How far until she hit a wall? How far could she push before whatever fluidity between them became brittle and shattered? She didn’t have anything to measure herself against, and it was maddening.
***
The next 2 days slogged on in a blur of harsh emotions. Hermione had definitely had hard times around Christmas before, but this self-loathing and blame was eating her up. She furiously tried to guess what was in the box, but only succeeded in figuring out that the item must have been the one she spied Malfoy buying that Friday night. Coming to that conclusion was a small mercy, and lessened the tension of everything afflicting her heart. She left it at home on her mantle, lest she have the inescapable urge to open it at work and ruin everything. She wanted to be good for Malfoy, and hear him tell her that. Sometime. Hopefully.
So she was good. Sullen, but she waited for what seemed like an eon before Christmas eve night. She wondered if it was a ring, or a love note, or an expensive piece of jewelry - all options were as unlikely as the next. What if he hated her, and it was a Dark artifact, a letter about how awful she was, or a small rock to make fun of her getting her hopes up? She concluded it was probably somewhere in between, neither spiteful nor romantic. Merlin knows it could be as practical as a fancy quill ink or bezoar. The clock struck 7:50 pm, and she wasn’t going to wait any longer.
With tentative hands, she picked up the present. Some small part of her felt wrong for not waiting until 8 o’clock exactly, but hadn’t Malfoy suggested an approximate time? Or worse yet, he knew she was such a predictable rule follower that she would wait until 8 on the nose. She made a mental note to become more unpredictable in the new year as she undid the ribbon and tossed it aside. The present was blaring red in alarm, but she had always ran toward danger and was sprinting toward it now.
Deciding to rip the paper apart, she discovered a simple black box within. Shaking it one last time to hazard a guess, she lifted off its top. Inside lay a shiny silver key on a bed of fabric. She took the key out, examined it for anything beyond its beauty, and tore out the bed of fabric in search of anything else. There was nothing else besides the key and the box. Hermione was slightly disheartened and confused as she sat on her couch and twirled the key in her hand. It was a beautiful skeleton key with loops and swirls at the top of its handle, and a unique set of jagged teeth at its other end. Why did he give me this key? And why would he think I’d come after him after opening this present? It just didn’t make sense, and Hermione had spent too much time wracking her brain over what it could be that now she knew what it was, her mind was half spent.
She was lost in thought, still mulling it all over with the light of the fireplace dancing upon the silver key, when suddenly it started to glow. Hermione took a double take to make sure it wasn’t just her eyes playing with her, and snapping to, quickly closed both hands firmly around her wand and the key as she was violently twisted into time and space without warning.