On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a Partridge in a pear tree.
Only the partridge turned out to be a low-rank Death Eater trussed up and addressed to Hermione Granger and left outside of the wards of the latest safe house she had taken up residence, prompting an emergency move.
It had been going on for years as the war raged on—the gifts, if you could call them that, kept coming. Valentine's came with a bouquet of hearts. Her birthday, a jewel-encrusted collar.
It didn't seem to matter where or what wards she was behind. The demented presents continued to find her.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two turtle doves and a…
“Okay, there, Granger?” A deep voice rumbled by the door.
She couldn't help but jump, her breath catching. Hermione. “Just, just a little on edge, Malfoy,” she muttered as she packed again. She didn't see what good it did. Her stalker would just find her new location
It had taken two years for Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott to show up. They kept to themselves mostly. And kept to the libraries mainly, though she had shared brewing duties occasionally, too.
Today, in a golden cage were two dead and tortured Ministry workers heads with interrogation notes.
On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three French hens. Two…
Three rare and hard-to-come-by potion ingredients sat in front of her. They had been out of them for weeks, with Voldemort consuming most of the supply.
She felt a chill run through her as she wondered how much this stalker knew about the Order.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four calling birds. Three…
Werewolves. She was gifted four pelts from werewolves. It was insane. It was absurd. They were freshly tanned. Must have been killed last moon.
What could she do against someone who could take down four transformed werewolves?
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me five golden rings. Four…
Even though Kings and Moody insisted it was safe, she didn't trust it. Didn't want it. On the table sat a sapphire-encrusted jewellery set with a matching watch.
The whole thing probably worth more than most people could earn in a year.
Still, she didn't just get rid of it. This was war, and stones could be used as currency if she needed.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me six geese a laying. Five….
This time, there were geese. All six were sitting on severed arms that bore the Dark Mark. Numbness set in when she recognised the hand of her torturer. The hands she saw in her nightmare.
Forgoing even the pretence of a book, Hermione was just staring into the fire, trying to devise a plan when Nott entered. “You look,” he paused to consider his words, a soft smile on his lips, “shattered Granger. All the gifts starting to have an effect on you?”
Hermione bristled at that, feeling a flash of annoyance. “Starting?” She barked. “I have been on edge since Valentine's Day! It doesn't matter what I do or what wards I use the gifts keep coming.”
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me seven swans a swimming. Six…
“Are you sure it's safe to use those?” Harry asked hesitantly. The seven swans had turned into seven books.
Hermione had resisted all the other gifts, but she hadn't read these, unlike most of the library. “Moody and Malfoy cleared them. The only Dark Magic contained is natural to their subject matter, and they are perfectly safe for reading.”
That being said, she was only willing to read four of the books—the fetish and sexual submission she left.
“I just don't want you to give this someone the wrong idea. I don't like him thinking you want or appreciate the gifts.” Harry said, his hands raking through his hair, leaving it even more chaotic than usual.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Hardly, Harry. The rest can rot. But I'm not going to turn down knowledge because I'm not too fond of the source
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave me eight maids a milking.
“We don't even know the Intel is good,” Hermione roared, slamming her hands on the table, “and you are ready to send fighters out there!” Today’s gift had been eight critical weaknesses in the other side's supply chain.
If they were accurate, a hit to them would significantly hobble the administration.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me nine ladies dancing.
Hermione sat in front of the nine newspapers. Nine Ministry workers had all shown up for work as normal. Only for them to part way through their day's attempt to assassinate their Department Head and any supporters of the current regime.
The survivors were imperiused, and both killed themselves somehow while in custody.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ten Lords, a leaping
This time, Hermione was not the only one to move. Ten Wizengot members were left dismembered at three wards with clear signs of torture on the body parts.
East Second Safe House was fully abandoned.
“Come on, pet, it's not all gloom to be stuck here with us.” Theo cajoled as Draco put down the tea. “ At the very least, you devoured the books, and the rings were pretty, right? And now you get to play mad sorcerer in the labs again.”
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eleven pipers piping.
In front of her could only be described as a small trousseau. Each delicate item made an ombre with blood (presumably of her enemies). The staining set in a rusty burgundy and a recognisable metallic tang in the air.
It was only after vomiting she realised the gift was left outside her room under her bedroom window. Then true terror overtook her.
On the twelfth day of Christmas
In front of her lay a beautiful white dress and slip. She blushed when she saw her secret admirer had dared include white lace panties to match. Not that she would ever wear the things. Garters, stockings and dainty shoes rested there, seemingly innocent and yet an ominous threat next to the dress and traditional binding cords.
“You look so pretty when you are scared,” Theo whispered as strong arms pinned her to a hard chest. She might not have been able to see, but as apparition twisted them the winds shifted, and she smelled Malfoy.