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Last Christmas	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 8698 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. I gain no profit from my stories

Chapter List
- 1-Last Christmas
- 1
The gardens were beautiful with so many flowers in bloom in the night. Small snowflakes fell from the sky and dots of light glittered the different plants giving the area a surreal feel to it. The young Muggle born smiled as she gently touched the deep blue, almost purple petals of a flower she didn’t know the name of. She pulled her deep royal blue velvet cloak closer to her. It wasn’t like Hermione not to know something and she made a mental note to rectify her limited knowledge on winter plants.
She continued down the lit path, small white flower bushes guiding her towards her destination. As she approached the cottage, her smile broadened. On either side of the door were tall poinsettia plants, their red petals glistened from the snow and Hermione couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips.
On the inside of the cottage, people were gathered in small groups scattered throughout the drawing room. Some sat by the fire while others lounged on couches, in fluffy armchairs, or around a seemingly intense game of wizards chess. The Muggle born finally spotted the couple she was looking for and made her way towards them. She smiled and nodded at people when they called to her or acknowledged her presence in some way, shape, or form, but it was the couple who gained the most of her attention.
Wrapping her arms around the black haired bespectacled man, she giggled some more when he squeezed her tight. The moment he let go, his pregnant wife took over, though a bit more gentle, Ginny still embraced her friend. “It’s been too long,” the younger witch practically complained as she released Hermione.
The Muggle born shrugged. “I didn’t mean to keep away, Gin. I just…”
Hermione froze as she caught sight of the one man she did not want to see. He stood by the wizards chess set and casually glanced up. They made eye contact and a rush of memory and emotion flooded through Hermione’s mind.
After the war, Hermione and Ron had agreed to start seeing one another. The Muggle born had tried so hard to make things work between them. She even coddled him much like his mother had done. At the time, she would have given him the world if she could. It had been Christmas, much like this one, when he had gotten down on one knee and proposed to her in front of family and friends. He had given her a beautiful diamond ring that she knew he had bought with the money he earned from the Ministry.
The very next day, she caught him in his office shagging none other than Daphne Greengrass on his desk. Hermione was left devastated. Unable to cope with the betrayal, she set out to Australia to retrieve her parents. It had taken some time, but she finally managed to restore their memories. She found forgiveness through them, too.
She had remained in Australia for a couple of months before finally moving back to England. As much as she enjoyed the hot weather and exotic animals of Australia, she was glad to be home. Even more so when her parents followed her shortly after.
Hermione knew that eventually she would have to face Ronald again, but she wasn’t expecting him to look so… confused? She watched as he gave a quick smile and nod to the bloke he was talking to, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying, he lifted his glass in her direction. The man had glanced at her before turning back to the ginger and nodding. Hermione took a step back as her former fiancé made his way to her.
“Hermione? Are you ok?” Harry asked as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He glanced in the direction she was looking and his eyebrows lifted. “I forgot that he was here,” he said softly.
The Muggle born sent him an accusing glare. “Yeah? Well, that’s convenient.”
Harry frowned. “You know I would never purposely put you in an awkward situation,” he said.
As Ron drew up to them, Ginny stepped beside her friend. Hermione’s eyes shifted back to the ginger haired man as his own eyes widened in surprise. “Hermione?”
The Muggle born regarded him coolly, lifting her head with an air of indifference and raising an eyebrow. “Ronald.”
He blinked a couple times. “I’m sorry,” he said with a disbelieving chuckle. “I didn’t recognize you. You’ve changed.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not by much, but it has been a year,” she commented. Turning to glance at Harry, she gave him a soft, pleading look. “Would you mind taking my cloak?”
The messy haired man shook his head sharply, pulling himself out of his daze as he jumped into action. “Yes, of course. Would you like a glass of wine as well?” he offered as she unclasped her cloak and let it fall into his hands.
Her hair cascaded in soft curls down her back and over her shoulders. A white, flowery burette decorated the dark tresses of hair and pulled a bit of her hair up above her right ear where a white diamond dangled. The dress she wore was royal blue velvet and fell to her ankles. The deep V neck was lined in white rhinestones in snowflake patterns and ran around the collar and back of the dress. There was a slit, too, from her left hip that allowed her leg to peek out from the dress and reveal her six inch black heels. Her diamond dewdrop necklace and baseball bracelet completed the look.
“Thank you, Harry,” the Muggle born said as she smiled at her old friend.
Harry blinked a moment before nodding and leaving with her cloak. Ginny, on the other hand, practically squealed. “Hermione! You look gorgeous! I can’t believe you let me hug you while you were wearing that dress.”
The Muggle born blushed. “Thank you, though I doubt you would have stopped me from hugging you regardless of what I was wearing,” she teased, her nose wrinkling as she smiled.
“Wow, Hermione. You just look… wow,” Ron breathed and Hermione noticed that he had a hard time keeping his mouth closed.
“Oh, please do shut your mouth, Ronald,” she said. “And wipe it. It’s impolite to drool at a dinner party.”
Ginny snorted as the ginger man quickly covered his mouth and turned his head to clean himself. “So, Hermione,” the ginger witch said, turning her attention to her friend and ignoring her brother, “did you bring anyone with you or are you alone?”
Hermione opened her mouth to respond as she felt a hand at the small of her back. “She’s with me,” answered a masculine voice.
The Muggle born turned and looked up. Her eyes widened as they met a pair of stormy grey eyes. “Malfoy?” she asked, doubtfully.
He gave her a smirk, though he did not remove his hand. “Hello, love. I apologize for keeping you waiting,” he told her as he kissed her forehead.
His white blonde hair was slicked back and he wore black dress robes with a white oxford underneath. His royal blue tie had glittering snowflakes that looked suspiciously like diamonds. Knowing the Pureblood, Hermione wouldn’t doubt it if they were.
“Malfoy!” Ron barked angrily. “What the bloody hell are you doing here? And with my girl?”
Much to Hermione’s surprise, Malfoy had developed a sense of maturity over the years and did not immediately draw his wand or snap back at the other wizard with a nasty retort. Instead, he held his head high and spoke in a calm manner, though his eyes narrowed as he gave Ronald a distasteful once-over. “I do believe I just stated why I was here, Weasel,” he stated. “Last I checked, Miss Granger here did not belong to you like some piece of property. She’s rather free to make her own choices, and tonight, she has chosen to attend this dinner with me.”
“Last I checked,” Ron spat with venom, “she was my fiancée and therefore…”
“Was,” Hermione interrupted, glaring at her ex. “Was, Ronald. You lost the privilege of being my fiancé the day you decided to shag Greengrass in your office.” To be honest, Hermione had no idea where Malfoy had come from, in fact, she did not even know he was going to be here. “You also lost any right you may think you had when our relationship was terminated. I returned your ring, in case you’ve forgotten.”
It was at that moment that Harry returned with her glass of wine. He gave Malfoy a confused look, but said nothing. Hermione graciously accepted the glass and looked up at the man who was, apparently, her date now. “Have you seen the front gardens?” she asked him as she took a sip of the red liquid. It was sweet and cool.
He glanced back at her, quickly catching on to the change of subject. “I perused it for a moment,” he admitted, “but, honestly, I thought it would be better to stroll through it more thoroughly with you. If you are up for it, that is.”
He gave her a genuine smile that sent a shockwave of electricity straight to her nether regions and caused her to melt. She had seen that look in his eyes only once before, though at the time, she hadn’t understood it. Now she knew what that look meant and she couldn’t help the soft smile and light blush that crept up on her face. She dipped her head just slightly and glanced up at him with innocent eyes. “Perhaps after dinner?” she suggested.
The smile turned into a smirk and he nodded. “Of course, love,” he agreed.
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Ron growled.
The two couples stared at him. Ginny’s face contorted in anger. “And what are you going to do about it?” she challenged.
“I’ll stop him,” the wizard snapped. “That’s my girl and…”
“She’s not yours anymore, mate,” Harry said rather sternly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what you did to her.”
And Harry was right, though Hermione hoped beyond hope he wouldn’t go into details. Days of living in a daze, crying herself to sleep, and feeling miserable after their breakup haunted Hermione in ways the war never could. In fact, it had gotten so bad, between the war and the breakup, that Hermione had immersed herself into therapy and was still seeing a therapist twice a week. Harry and Ginny had tried to help her as much as they could, but there was only so much they could do. Harry was attending therapy himself still and most likely would for the rest of his life.
Hermione turned her attention back to Malfoy. “I believe the seats in the dining room are numbered,” she told him. “I do hope they placed us in a prime spot.”
The blond gazed down at her and winked. “I know the host personally,” he told her. “Where would you like to sit? I can arrange any changes to be made if necessary.”
She shifted her weight a bit and placed a delicate hand on his chest. “It matters not to me,” she told him as she gazed up into those mysterious eyes of his. Then she mouthed, “With you.”
He gave her a slight nod to let her know he received her silent message and turned his attention back to the others. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said politely with a bow. As he straightened, he took Hermione’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I shall return shortly.”
Turning on his heel, he left the group and Harry and Ginny stared at the Muggle born. “New, expensive clothing and the richest bloke in Britain and possibly the world on your arm? Hermione, I… I honestly don’t know what to say,” Ginny commented after a moment.
The Muggle born shrugged. “The dress only cost me about two hundred pounds and the jewellery belongs to my mum. Though, I will admit even I’m astounded by Mal… Draco’s attentiveness to me. I honestly believed he had no interest in Muggle borns.”
“He doesn’t,” Ron sneered. “Mark my words, Hermione, you’ll get yourself in trouble with the likes of him.”
“Consider them marked,” she responded, keeping herself calm. She really wanted to hex him, but stopped herself. If Malfoy could handle himself maturely, she could, too. “However, know this, Ronald: I’d rather be in trouble with a man like him who is truly interested in me than spend another second in your presence. Please forgive me, Harry. Ginny. I find that the current company is rather distasteful and am in need of fresh air.”
Hermione found her cloak in the closet nearest the front door and quickly pulled it over her shoulders before stepping back out into the night air. Malfoy had rescued her from a potentially awkward meeting, but that did not assuage the feeling she had: she shouldn’t have come.
Though she desperately denied it, she still loved Ron. A year away had not been enough to change those feelings. And she knew that if she had stayed, if she had spoken to Ron any more, she was in danger of falling for him again. She couldn’t do that. He had hurt her too many times, not just that day last Christmas, but many times before that as well.
“I’m a glutton for punishment,” she said under her breath as she sat on a bench in the gardens.
She could just Apparate home, but she almost felt obligated to stay, at least for dinner.
“Granger?” called the deep voice of her saviour.
Glancing up, she gave the man a sad, watery smile. “Hey,” she responded before letting her eyes fall to her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry I left like that, I just…” She sighed. “I needed to get some air.”
He took a seat next to her and reached out to take her hands into his. When she glanced up at him, he kept eye contact and said, “I spoke to the host and managed to procure seating next to one another and away from Weasel.” He lifted his hand and brushed a stray tear from her eye, one she hadn’t realized she had allowed to slip. His eyes softened in concern. “What is it?” he asked quietly.
She looked away from him. “It was a mistake to come,” she told him. “I thought I had a handle on it. Thought I was ready to face him and show him how strong I am.”
Taking her chin with his fingers, Malfoy pulled her face so that she was forced to look at him. “You are strong, Gr… Hermione,” he confirmed. “You’re strong, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you deserve so much better than what that pauper ever gave you.”
She gave a short chuckle and shook her head. “No, I…”
He did not give her any time to argue his words as he grabbed her face with both of his hands and kissed her fully on the lips. Her eyes widened in shock as she froze. He held her there, moving his lips against hers until she finally responded. She opened her mouth slightly and he took the signal to deepen the kiss. It wasn’t anything she had ever experienced before as her eyes flickered and closed. She felt his hands bury themselves into her hair as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Deep in the back of her mind, she was silently thrilling. She remembered a moment in their first year, a brief glorious moment, when they had first made eye contact. She had never seen any boy so handsome and she had been smitten with him. Of course it didn’t take long for her to stamp down those feelings of attraction. He was, after all, a spoiled Pureblood rich kid. But now, sitting on a bench in the middle of a beautiful garden, those feelings of attraction didn’t just come back to the forefront of her mind, they expanded.
She didn’t know how long they sat there, kissing one another, when he finally slowly broke the kiss. Opening her eyes, she was met with the same fiery passion in his eyes that she had seen earlier. Her pink lip gloss was smeared across his lips, giving them the same glossy look hers had had. “Malf…”
“Draco,” he corrected, letting one hand fall while the other absently played with a curl. “I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
She felt her jaw drop in shock, her lips forming a small “o”. “Why didn’t you?” she asked breathlessly.
He snorted as he shook his head. “Would you have let me?” he countered. “By the time I saw you for what you truly are, I had already managed to convince you that I was the last person you would ever want.”
“So why kiss me now?” she questioned, her brows furrowing in confusion.
He pointed up. “Mistletoe,” was his answer and she glanced up.
Indeed, a small sprig of mistletoe hung off the tree branch above them. How did she miss that? Glancing at the tree, she saw that it wasn’t a mistletoe tree, so she became even more confused.
“I told you that I know the host personally,” Draco said as he reclined in the bench and rested his arm on the back of it. He continued to play with her hair as he swept his free arm over the garden. “He has bits of mistletoe everywhere. Every Christmas dinner, he places them in strategic spots he knows couples will go and get caught underneath.”
“Is that why you agreed to take a stroll with me? Were you hoping to trick me?”
He chuckled, his silver eyes twinkling in the soft lights. “Somehow I doubt I would have to trick you,” he said as his hand cupped her cheek. His thumb gently caressed her cheek. “I know I had surprised you. To be honest, seeing you here surprised me as well. When I saw Weasel approach you, I knew someone had to do something.” The sincerity in his gaze brought tears to her eyes, though she did not shed them. “I remember reading the articles in the Prophet after the two of you had split. I can’t imagine putting anyone through what he put you through. Like I said, you deserve better than that.”
“Are you flirting with me, Draco Malfoy?” she asked teasingly, as she tried to break the tension of the moment. For such a crisp winter’s eve, it was quite warm all of a sudden.
He smirked. “Is there a problem with that?”
She shook her head and blushed. “I never thought I would ever live to see the day when Draco Malfoy would flirt with someone like me.”
He raised a single eyebrow at that. “Someone like you?” he questioned.
“A Mudblood,” she stated quite bluntly.
His eyes crinkled and his mouth twisted as though he had tasted something disgusting. “Don’t call yourself that,” he said.
“But…”
“But nothing,” he stated firmly. “Those days are in the past and it’s taken me years to overcome them. The defeat of the Dark Lord dawned a new era for the wizarding world, didn’t you know that?”
“And this new era is one where Purebloods from old wizarding families are free to snog Muggle borns in front gardens under the mistletoe?”
He smirked. “We can even date them if we wish,” he drawled.
She blinked. “You wish to date me?” she asked, not quite believing it.
He gave her a single nod. “If you’ll let me?” he offered. “Give me a chance, love. Let me show you that there is a man out there in this crazy world who can care for you. Allow me to earn the right to deserve you. I promise I will give you everything. All of me.”
Hermione felt her mouth grow dry. The words he said were almost too good to be true, but she had been promised the world before. She would be taking a chance. It had been a year since she and Ron had broken up. Sure she hadn’t dated anyone else, but she was nervous about getting into another relationship. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Draco Malfoy had been cute when he was younger. His boyish smirk had given him an innocent, but mischievous look back then. His white blond locks and silvery grey eyes gave him mystery and danger. There had been more than a few times when Hermione had caught herself staring at him, longing and almost wishing that he hadn’t been such an abusive prat. She had seen him with an arm around Pansy Parkinson and Hermione would be lying if she hadn’t secretly wanted that same attention from him.
Now he was no longer a boy, but a man. His smirk was just as boyish and mischievous. His eyes and hair just as mysterious and dangerous. And for the first time in her life, he was looking at her. His fingers were playing with her curls and caressing her cheek.
She steeled her Gryffindor courage and opened her eyes. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she felt herself beginning to fall. There was a forever in his eyes that had never existed with Ron. She gave Draco a soft smile. “Alright,” she finally agreed.
His smirk widened and, suddenly, he stood. Hold his hand out to her, he helped her to stand. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as they began walking along the wintery wonderland. Waving his free hand, he started talking about the garden, pointing out various plants and giving them the names she had been wanting to learn.
How did he do that? She found herself wondering. Soon, she was caught up in his words, even speaking at different intervals. The conversation went from plants to the party to family. It diverted from there and somehow, Hermione lost track of the time. She was learning so much about Draco and every moment spent with him was drawing her closer to him.
Soon, he led her to a bench somewhere in the vast garden. She hadn’t even realized how large the garden was, but assumed it was much smaller than she thought. They had been talking for hours. Sitting down, she giggled at some random comment he made.
He pointed to the horizon. “Watch,” he whispered as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
She gazed at the horizon and marvelled at how the sky started glowing a deep purple colour. As the colour began to brighten and turn blue, Hermione rested her head on Draco’s shoulder. She had never watched a sunrise like this before. That time spent roaming the countryside with Harry hadn’t really been very romantic, nor was she even interested in her best friend in that way anyway. Being in the garden with Draco, watching the sunrise, was a truly magical experience and she momentarily thought she was dreaming.
“This evening has been… incredible,” she whispered. “I wish it could never end.”
He glanced down at her. “Who says it has to?” he asked.
She sat up and looked at him. “What?”
He licked his lips. “It doesn’t have to end. If you want, we can continue, at least until you tire of it,” he suggested.
“How did you become so perfect?” she questioned.
He snorted and shook his head. “I’m not perfect, love,” he told her. Raising his left sleeve, he showed her the faded mark on his arm. “I’m just as flawed as any other human being, but… there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
She shook her head and he gave her a half smile. “See, love, that’s one of the things I’ve learned with the war. There is no perfect person. We’re just a bunch of flawed people trying to co-exist in an equally flawed world,” he told her. He waved a hand at the sunrise. “But there’s beauty in those flaws.”
“Your Mark?”
“Is a horrible reminder of someone I almost became. Someone I didn’t want to be,” he stated. He ran his thumb over the faded mark. “This Mark helped me learn that, in the end, we are all just people. Blood is red, no matter who it comes from and my blood is just as dirty as yours. The war did change me into a better person, but I still have my problems. I’m still a spoiled rich kid, but I’m much freer. Now I can actually flirt with the girl I’ve fancied since first year and even ask her out on a date without fear of retribution.”
Hermione felt her heart sinking, though she tried not to show it. There’s a girl he’s fancied since first year? “Oh,” she breathed as her eyes fell to her lap.
He chuckled as he placed a finger under her chin and lifted it up. “I’m talking about you, Granger.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “I never knew,” she said in awe.
He gave her a wink as he leaned back again. “You wouldn’t believe the argument that ensued when I told my father of my plans to pursue you,” he drawled. “You know he actually threatened to disinherit me if I went through with it? My mother had to remind him that they didn’t have any other children and weren’t likely to reproduce more any time in the near future. She wasn’t too thrilled with my decision herself, but she’s on the same page as I am. Muggle blood isn’t much different than Pureblood.”
“What a very Gryffindor thing to say,” Hermione teased.
He scoffed. “I’m not the only Slytherin who thinks that way, love,” he told her. “So, what say you, Hermione?”
She loved the sound of her given name on his lips. “Dating me isn’t easy,” she warned.
“Neither is dating me,” he countered. “But that’s why I think we’re going to work.”
“Why? Because we’re both difficult to date?” she asked, confused.
He raised a hand, pointing a finger at the sky. “The reason we are so difficult to date is because we’re both too smart for the idiots out there. You and Weasel never would have worked because he could never keep up with you. Same with Parkinson and me. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to shake her because of the dumb expression on her face. She’s smart, yes, but not nearly as smart as you and I. It’s so hard to have a really in depth conversation with her about anything.” He looked at her and gave her a smirk. “However. The two of us? We’re perfectly matched.”
“I thought you said there’s no such thing as a perfect person.”
“There isn’t,” he admitted. “Honestly, we won’t have the perfect relationship, but that’s what I’m looking forward to.” His smirk softened and he leaned towards her to kiss her softly on the lips. Resting his forehead on hers, he whispered, “The perfect imperfect relationship. Two perfectly flawed people working together to create a world within their own little bubble that has its ups and downs.”
She tilted her head slightly as she regarded him. It was daybreak now and she realized that they had never made it to dinner the night before. She thought of bringing that up, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. She enjoyed the attention and his kisses and was actually afraid of bringing it all to an end. Because regardless of what he said and promised, things would change the moment they moved. It was then that the worst possible sound echoed around them. Hermione visibly cringed as she heard her own stomach betray her.
Draco threw his head back and laughed aloud. Shocked, the Muggle born stared at him as she thought that she was listening to the most wonderful sound she could ever hear. His laughter was genuine and contagious. Finding herself blushing in embarrassment, she dipped her head and gave a nervous giggle.
“Perhaps we should find some breakfast,” he said through his chortles.
Hermione couldn’t help but agree.
(II)(II)
As the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months, Draco and Hermione grew closer and closer together. Sure they argued and there were times when Hermione couldn’t decide if she wanted to hex him or kiss him. In the end, they always completed the night with a long, passionate snogging session.
He proposed to her two days after her birthday. It had been a surprising moment in Hermione’s life and rather surreal. He had taken her to one of the finest restaurants in Britain and invited their parents to join them. As if that hadn’t been enough, he had stood in the middle of the restaurant and announced loudly that he had a “proposition” to make. Then, in front of his parents, her parents, and, she still couldn’t believe it, Harry and Ginny, he got down on one knee and produced the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen.
“You are the smartest, kindest, most compassionate woman I know. You hold yourself with the air and grace of a queen,” he had told her. “Would you bestow upon me the benefit of calling you my wife?”
They were planning their wedding for January. For the time being, they lived together in a rather large flat in London. Hermione had wanted something smaller, but Draco had insisted and since he was paying for it, there wasn’t much the Muggle born could say. Not that she minded. The flat was beautiful and didn’t take much for her to clean. She knew they had the help of the Malfoy house elves and she brought it up to Draco. He explained to her that there was indeed an elf, but that the elf had insisted on coming with him. When she asked for a name, he refused to give it, claiming he was worried she would try to free the poor creature.
Late one evening in December, they lounged in their sitting room, cuddling on the couch. Draco stared into the warm, cheery fire while Hermione flipped the pages of a book she was reading.
“Any idea what you would like for Christmas, love?” he asked as he absently curled a finger in her hair.
The Muggle born glanced up, staring to the fire as she thought over his question. It was difficult for her to pick out something, as she had always been humble. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “You’ve already given me everything I could possibly want and more.” She turned her head to look at him. “What do you want for Christmas?”
He smirked and kissed her temple. “All I want for Christmas is you,” he told her.
She blushed as she dipped her head a bit. “You have me already,” she responded, looking down at the book without really seeing it.
“I do,” he confessed. “For the most part. And soon I’ll have you entirely, won’t I?”
Hermione wasn’t certain when she had smiled so much, but she did know that with Draco, she was the happiest she had ever been. “You will,” she answered him. Looking back at the fireplace, she whispered, “You’ve accepted the invitation to Zabini’s Christmas party, haven’t you?”
“I have.”
She sighed and rested her head on his chest. He tightened his grip over her shoulders and allowed his cheek to lay upon the top of her head. The whole world was at peace.

Author's Note: Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas. I am still working on Forgiven, so rest assured. I just had this idea while listening to the Wham! version of the title's song and had to write it. A bit corny, but I do hope you all enjoy it none the less.
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Last Christmas