Hermione/Draco
There were only a few students left in the Great Hall when Hermione pushed her plate away and surveyed the rest of the Staff table. She was, in fact, the only Professor remaining at the feast. She hadn’t planned that, but the new Horatio Hornby Mer Anthology proved too good a thing to pass up, even at Christmas. She barely picked her nose up from the book as colleagues wished her Happy Yule.
Had Neville even shook her at one point? No matter, she’d stop by his quarters tomorrow with his gift - a new species of Fanged Geranium. She knew he was hoping to propagate it for Healer Parkinson’s collection of Skele-Gro. At one point her eyelids felt heavy and she shuffled in her seat.
An eerie quiet fell over the large room and Hermione was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. What was the harm in laying her head down momentarily? It felt so easy. Just a short nap, and then she would finish Chapter 10.
The dim glow of the charmed candles overhead lulled her to sleep.
Hermione roused briefly to strong hands placing her gently down in the middle of her bed. She turned over, only noticing a set of green robes, before letting the final stages of slumber pass over her.
“Thanks, Nev,” she whispered, feeling happy to rely on the kindness of such a steadfast friend.
When she awoke she had the oddest feeling. It was almost dream-like, and she barely remembered walking back up to her quarters from the Great Hall the night before. She readied herself in a simple red dress before reaching for her - her book! She must have forgotten it at the table. She would have to run up quickly and retrieve it before students were awake and about the castle. When she opened the door she almost stepped on a small package tied with green ribbon.
The note read:
Granger, maybe if you stay awake tonight we can discuss Chapter 11 together.
- Malfoy
She shifted the second book in the stack and brought it to the top of the pile. It was the yet to be published Hornby sequel. How had he?
Later that night she summoned her courage and knocked three times. When Malfoy answered the door with a smirk Hermione reframed from rolling her eyes. She passed him a wrapped bottle of his favorite Firewhiskey, or so she thought, she wasn’t positive it was.
She took an educated guess.
“Happy Christmas, Draco. May I come in?”
He leaned into the doorframe and pushed it open enough for her to pass under his extended arm. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”