“Ok, your turn.” Hermione scooted up Draco’s chest to give his hand a better angle. Curls tickled his nose and stuck to his lips. “Your hair is attacking me again, witch. That’s cheating,” he sputtered as he spit out several strands in a most offended manner.
She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “You,” she sneered, “are a sore loser. Now come on!” And she plopped the side of her head back on his chest.
“Fine. Let me think of something. No runes this round, correct? Hmm yes, I think I’ve got one,” he murmured in triumph.
Draco traced the first letter along her lower back. “D!” She shouted. He pulled back to look at her. “D? What? No, minus a point for you. Try again, oh brightest witch.”
He repeated the motion on her back again. “P! O. H— nooo TT— that doesn’t count! E. R. Next word: S. T. I. N? K…” she reached up and flicked the tip of his nose . “Potter Stinks? <That> is the best you could come up with? Honestly, Draco.”
He chuckled and rubbed his nose, giving her a squeeze and a soft kiss on the top of her head. Pursing her lips and giving him one last eye roll, Hermione laid her head softly against Draco’s sternum and nuzzled against his pajama shirt.
“I’m glad we stayed in for New Year’s tonight. Life has been too hectic lately— just the thought of dressing up makes me tired.” She idly picked at a loose thread on his shirt, eyes closing.
“As much as I would love to see you shimmy around in that little silver number, Granger, I admit I rather prefer this setting here,” he murmured as he brought both arms around her back. They lay in silence for a moment before
Hermione’s head popped up and she smacked his chest. “Oh! But we need to stay awake, at least! Eyes open, Malfoy. Let’s do a bonus round. Since I am winning, I will allow you to go first. You have ten seconds to think of something. Make it good this time!”
She adjusted herself again in preparation for the final round of their game, rubbing her bare feet along his legs and trying to bury her cold toes inside the edge of his joggers.
“Why <why> are your feet so cold? This is a distraction again and you are the worst kind of cheat!” he fussed.
“I’m chilly and you are a heat rock, you prat. Give me your warmth.” She dug her toes into the exposed skin of one calf.
“Stop that! You know, I actually am quite wealthy. I can, at any time, provide you with a lifetime supply of warm and fuzzy socks. Pray tell, why are you not wearing any of them now? Why are you wearing shorts if you are cold?” Draco blew a curl away from his face.
“I find socks to be too restricting while I’m relaxing. And I’m wearing these shorts because my boyfriend told me he likes my legs.” She stuck out her bottom lip, but her look turned mischievous when he huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Oh will you look at that? Time’s up, Malfoy. Hope you’ve thought of something good!”
Draco didn’t respond; he merely stared at her with a soft expression. “Careful there, Hermione. Your Slytherin shows when you want to win.”
”Sticks and stones, big boy. You love the way my brain operates. Now quit stalling.”
He smiled broadly.“Yeah, you know what? I do have one. It is one that I have been saving. And I think I’m finally going to win.”
They leveled each other with the same narrowed eyes and silently accepted the challenge.
Placing the side of her face on his sternum, Hermione both heard and felt Draco take a deep breath in and his heart beating wildly. The stakes seemed higher; even he knew this would be her best win yet, she thought with glee.
“Ready? Here you go,” he whispered. His hand still splayed across her lower back lifted, and a single fingertip drew the first letter.
“Y. O. U. Next word: H. A. V. E. “ Her mind whirled with possibilities. Leave it to Draco to make this final tracing game something like “you have broccoli in your teeth” or something equally ridiculous. He continued and she spoke the letters out loud. “M. Y. Next word: H. E. A. R… You have my heart! <Ha!> I win <Ouch!>” she shouted when he pulled a curl. “There’s more? Fine, but you only prolong your defeat. M. A. What is that? Your handwriting truly is atrocious. R. R. Y. Next word: M. E…” Brows lifted and breath held, Hermione looked up into Draco’s eyes. He smirked. “Are you…? Did you…?” she managed.
He bit his lip and shrugged on shoulder. “Not exactly how I thought this would go, but this… seemed apropos for us.” They stared at one another. “Look at that, love, time’s up. Final answer?”
She surged forward and held onto both sides of his face. “Yes! Yes, you colossal prat! You frustrating, lovely man! Yes!” And she peppered kisses over his face. “Guess I win,” he finally whispered between kisses. “You never stated the phrase aloud. Ahh it’s good to be me: the Winner.” His nose lifted in the air.
Hermione nipped his ear. He swatted her shorts. Lifting her head & squinting one eye, she smirked down at him. “New game. Well, it’s an old game. New parameters, you see. Winner takes all. My rules.”
”Oh I like the sound of this, you brilliant, cold-footed minx,” he teased.
She cocked her head and blinked. “I should hope so; you’re stuck with me forever now,” she whispered as she shifted against him and smiled.
After a few competitive rounds of the latest game, it was declared a draw, although both parties claimed multiple small victories. He was the first to fall asleep, just as the clock ticked down on the old year. Hermione listened to his even breathing and steady heartbeat for a moment before closing her own eyes and letting the sense of contentment and peace wash over her. Sleep won over them both in the end as the fireworks outside signaled new beginnings.