Perfect Presents
Draco looks like an idiot. He is wearing silver silk pajamas. They are monogrammed. That isn’t the problem. Although paired with the actually offending garment, a different fabric might have made him feel less ridiculous.
Upon waking up and emerging from his room, Hermione and he had discovered two identically wrapping packages just outside their door. Someone knew they hadn’t slept in different rooms. Draco hopes it was Ginny Weasley.
Inside the brown wrapping had been two sweaters. Hermione’s was a soft blue, knitted with a delicate white cat playing with a Christmas ornament. It was charmed to scamper all over the sweater.
Draco had received a dark green sweater, emblazoned with the letter D.
While it wasn’t charmed to do anything, it must be infused with some kind of magic because it is the softest piece of clothing he has ever owned.
It fits snugly, and everyone else sitting around him at the breakfast table is wearing their own brand new sweater, but he feels silly just the same.
Draco’s is the only one with a letter on it. Some of the other ones have enchantments and embellishments, but the capital D stands out.
Rather than asking for an explanation, he had settled for thanking the older redheaded witch and settling onto the bench between Hermione and Fleur Delacour.
Now, half an hour into breakfast, he was starting to get nervous. No one had mentioned presents yet. When they were going to exchange them was something Draco wanted to know ahead of time.
“You’ve barely touched your breakfast,” Hermione says, looping her arm through his and resting her hand on his jiggling knee.
“When do you typically open presents?”
Her eyes crinkle when she smiles.
“I’m not sure there’s ever been a distinct time. When I was younger, I did it as soon as I woke up. The last couple of years, well we just exchanged when we had the time, I suppose. Why?”
“No reason.”
Draco had spelled her gift to arrive in her room this morning. At the time, he’d been under the impression she’d wake up and find it. There wouldn’t be an audience.
Except it is just sitting upstairs, waiting for her.
“Your gift is already in your room,” he explains.
Her eyes light up.
“Oh Draco, did I ruin your plan?” She sounds apologetic.
He shakes his head and intertwines their hands.
“I just hoped you’d open it alone.”
“Then we’ll wait. Molly will want to exchange gifts after breakfast and then we’ve all agreed to have a day in the snow. George has been having a hard time. Being back here. But maybe we could sneak off before dinner,” she leans in and presses a kiss to the spot just below his ear. Then, in a move that sets him on fire, she nips at his ear lobe.
They should sneak off now. Right now.
“If I hadn’t gotten my gift last night, I’d think this was it,” he whispers, making sure everyone is still distracted by Charlie Weasley’s Welsh green dragon story.
“You do know you can receive more than one Christmas present, don’t you?” She asks, sucking on the bottom of his lobe gently.
“Oi, you better quit it or Mum will have you both by the ear,” Ginny Weasley whisper-yells across the table.
Hermione laughs and Draco goes bright red.
He finishes his breakfast and follows the hoard upstairs, content to sit and wait for the chance to escape with his witch.
It’s incredible how much energy they all have. They are so unabashedly themselves. Everyone starts handing out presents and shrieking even when they open a package to find a pair of wool socks. It is infectious.
Hermione gets a stack of books, each thicker than the last. Draco watches as her friends open her presents to them.
She got Potter a very nice, but very functional wand holster. He’d announced that he intends to join the aurors after graduation. Draco didn’t see it, but who is he to say so.
She’d gotten Ginny a muggle coat made out of red leather. It matches the girl's hair surprisingly well.
Draco was most impressed with the gift she had bestowed upon Molly Weasley. Hermione was a brilliant witch. No one could say otherwise.
She had managed to perfectly synchronize muggle and magical technology. Inside a frame, she had managed to set a long continuous video of the Weasley’s and their adopted children.
But everyone could see that it featured Fred most often.
Somehow, Hermione had managed to use Pensieve memories of him and transfer them onto a pane of glass. It was just like the muggle films she talked about so frequently.
Molly cried for nearly an hour and George had hidden behind Angelina’s back, wiping his face.
Once everything was open and the floor was littered with wrappings, Draco realizes a lot of them keep looking at him.
“Draco, haven’t you got something you’d like to give Hermione?” Molly asks, wiping her face dry.
He stammers and looks around, suddenly petrified.
“We’re going to do it later. Alone,” Hermione explains.
“Oh come on, we want to see what you’ve gotten her,” Bill Weasley says.
They’ve never said two words to each other before.
Draco thinks about repeating what Hermione had said.
“I can do it now,” he mumbles.
“Wonderful!” Molly claps like a child. He’d been starting to like her. Not now, though.
He pulls his wand out and summons her gift, hoping it doesn’t crash through anything on its way through the castle. It comes in an open window and lands unceremoniously at his feet.
“I hope it’s not breakable,” Ronald grumbles.
Ignoring him, Draco picks up the small package and hands it to Hermione, looking into her eyes.
“Thank you, Draco,” she says, taking it.
Everyone is silent now. They all watch as she pulls back the paper and holds up the small velvet pouch.
“Jewelry,” Ron guesses.
Draco smirks at how wrong he is.
She opens the small knot and tips over the bag, letting the stones fall into her palm.
There are ten equally shaped cat eye stones. Draco had chosen them because they match her eyes.
After a minute of staring at them, she looks up at him. “What are they?”
“Right now, they are just rocks. But in 134 days, they’ll be portkeys.”
She still looks confused.
He supposes he’ll have to explain in front of everyone.
“Each one will deposit you in a different city around the world. Some of them are magical. Some muggle. Some I’ve been to. Some I haven’t.”
He really hates to have them all staring at him. He feels like a grindylow in a gallon-sized tank.
“And, in 134 days… my probation will be up,” he looks at the stones she is still holding. It had taken a long time to set them all up. And while he didn’t have easy access to money or the ministry official who helped him, he’d managed. He was actually a bit proud of himself over it. Not that he’d tell anyone that.
Draco would show her the beach in France.
“And you can show me the world,” she says, tears in her eyes.
She drops the stones into the pouch and then throws her arms around his shoulders.
Everyone laughs and Draco hugs her back, hoping she likes it.
When she pulls back, she has to dry her own tears.
“I love it. Thank you, Draco. Thank you so much,” she cries.
He leans in and kisses her. The room isn’t so quiet now. Everyone is talking about what he’d managed.
“I love you,” he reminds her when he pulls back.
Knowing she’d say it back, he just kisses her again, finally getting over their large audience.
Molly Weasley coughs after a minute and declares the present giving done.
Everyone files out and Hermione kisses him, her tongue pushing at his lower lip. He opens his mouth and the kiss deepens, their tongues nudging each other playfully.
Her hand rests on his chest.
“It really is perfect,” she says, pulling back but leaving her hand over his chest.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“My turn,” she turns to the side and pulls a package he hadn’t seen from the floor.
“Not fair you get to do it without the hoard watching on.”
“Don’t call them that,” she scolds, handing him a small square box. It’s remarkably similar to the sized gift he’d given her.
He pulls the red ribbon off and tears at the paper. Lifting the lid off the box, Draco stares at the contents in confusion.
“You have no idea what it is, do you?” She asks.
Pulling the round object out of the box, he shakes his head.
“It’s called a compass. I’ve charmed this one to always point to me,” she takes it and turns it slightly. There is an arrow that moves, so it remains pointing in her direction. “But it does a bit more than that. We can send messages through it. Sort of like the coins I used in D.A.,” she explains.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a matching compass. This one’s arrow points directly to him.
“I got the idea from Harry’s mirror. This way, even when we are apart, we can always get in touch.
“Thank you,” he says, holding the compass in the palm of his hand.
“What’s the matter?” She asks, apparently catching the sadness in his words.
“I just. Hermione, I don’t really want to be apart from you.”
The words hang between them for a moment and Draco worries he’s ruined everything. While he wasn’t expecting them to get married or anything, he meant every word. She was his everything and he didn’t want to ever lose her.
“Portkeys only work once right?” She holds up the pouch of stones.
He nods, not quite sure where she is going with this.
“Well then I suppose both of our gifts will be useless in a few months time,” she lifts her hand to his cheek and passes her thumb over his cheek, comfortingly.
Relief floods him. She doesn’t want to be apart either.
“I mean, we’ll have jobs I’m sure. I mean, we won’t be together every minute of every day.”
Hermione chuckles and stands up. Offering him her hand she pulls him to his feet and pulls him towards the door.
“Hm. And here I had imagined us at side by side desks in the ministry,” she teases.
Draco tucks his present into his pajama bottoms and they head off to find the hoard.