12. Eve

Author's Note: Well, this chapter would have worked so much better if I'd been able to submit it before Christmas, but...well...it hadn't been written yet. Thanks so much for the reviews! And thanks so much to all of the people who are still sticking with this story. I was shocked to receive an e-mail earlier this week, telling me that this story has been nominated for two different awards over at the "He Had it Coming" Dramione awards site. Whoever nominated it seriously rocks! It really means a great deal to me. :D Anyway...long chapter. All flashback. Hopefully doesn't suck. I still have writer's block, but I'm forcing myself to write as I have it, so...that might (but hopefully not) start to reflect in my writing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for any original character I happen to throw in here. I think there's only been one so far. Or two. Oh heck, it's my own story and I don't even know.

"That will be forty-one galleons, eight sickles, and five knuts, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the money. He handed the elderly man behind the counter forty-five galleons and said, "Keep the change."

The man gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you, sir."

"No, thank you," Draco said, picking the box up from the counter. "I really appreciate you doing this for me – especially on such short notice."

"It was my pleasure," the man said. He placed the money Draco had handed him inside of the old-fashioned cash register. "You remind me so much of your father."

He knew the old man meant it as a compliment, but Draco did not take it as one. He loathed being compared to his father in such a good light – as if being so much like his father was a good thing.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "Happy Christmas."

"And a happy Christmas to you, Mr. Malfoy!" the jolly old man exclaimed as Draco exited the shop.

He stepped out of the old trinket shop feeling pretty satisfied with his purchase. He glanced down at the box in his hands and smiled. He had begun to worry a few days ago that it wouldn't be ready in time, but luckily he had received a message early that morning via owl, saying that the item was ready to be picked up at any time. So, right after breakfast he hurried down to Hogsmeade, to Bagatelles – a small specialty store that sold various enchanted items – to retrieve it.

Draco pulled his jacket tighter around himself to shut out the bitter coldness that hung in the air and glanced around at the busy street. It was the day before Christmas, and it appeared as though many people were rushing to finish their last minute shopping before the shops closed for the day. Luckily for Draco, he hadn't had to worry too much about Christmas shopping this year. Slytherins usually did not get into the habit of exchanging presents – not even the best of friends. The gesture was just too…nice for them. He had, however, given Pansy a present – a particular dress she had pointed out to him in a shop window at the beginning of the year. She loved it, of course, and by the time she had even finished unwrapping it, she seemed to have forgotten about Draco's behavior at the Yule Ball. Or rather, she had chosen to ignore it. And then, she and the rest of his fellow Slytherin classmates had all gone home for the holidays. Draco had opted to stay at school this year – mainly due to the fact that since his father's death, his mother didn't seem to want much to do with him.

He sighed as he began his trek back to Hogwarts. He hated the Christmas season. Everyone was always so happy, it was sickening. He was actually glad he was going to be able to spend the holiday alone this year.

Draco stopped in his tracks when he spotted a young woman standing across the street, peering into one of the shop windows. Well, not completely alone, he thought to himself. Even from behind, he recognized the girl as Hermione. It was hard not to recognize that hair of hers. He stood there for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should greet her, but she made it easy for him.

She caught his gaze in the reflection of the window and immediately turned around to face him. Her cheeks and nose were a rosy pink, most likely from the cold air. She looked freezing, despite the fact she was heavily clothed in winter gear, and she was hanging onto a steaming cup of liquid. "Hey," she said hesitantly.

"Hi," he said. He made no attempt to move closer to her. He was not sure exactly where they stood with each other. Things had remained awkward between them since the night of the Yule Ball, and they hadn't really spoken to each other since their brief conversation the morning after.

Hermione lowered her eyes to the package Draco held in his hands. "Last-minute shopping?"

"Yeah," Draco replied, covering the box as much as he could with his arm. "You?"

"No, I finished my shopping two months ago."

Draco chuckled. "That figures."

Hermione smiled. "I hate procrastinating. I love efficiency."

"I think everyone at Hogwarts is aware of that," Draco said. "So…where's your little group of friends?"

Hermione's smile faded as she stared down at the ground. "Oh, well…I don't know. Things are kind of weird between Harry and me right now. And because of that, things are also kind of weird between Ron and me. And as for Ginny…well, Ginny doesn't like me too much right now."

"Oh." Draco tried to give her a sympathetic look. "You mean because of what happened at the Yule Ball?"

"Yeah," Hermione muttered. She glanced up at him. "I guess you were right about Ginny not being okay with it. She's quite angry with me right now. She accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend away. She said a few…not nice things to me." Hermione shrugged. "Oh well, she'll get over it, I'm sure. She just needs some time. I'm sure Harry's doing everything in his power to show her that she is the one he really loves, not me."

Draco detected sadness in her voice, but he couldn't tell if it was from the fact Harry really did love Ginny, or because one of her friends hated her guts. Perhaps it was both. Either way, Draco had to resist the urge to reach out his arm and give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"So you're here alone, then?" Draco asked.

"Nah. I came here with Luna. Although, she got distracted a few minutes ago, so I told her I was probably going to head back to school by myself and meet up with her later."

"Ah," Draco said. "Well would you like some company on the trek back? I was just heading there myself."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "I'd like that, actually."

They began to walk side-by-side down the crowded street. Their silence should have felt uncomfortable, but surprisingly enough, it didn't.

"You know," Hermione piped up all of the sudden, "I don't even know why I stayed here for the holidays. I think I should've just gone home to be with my parents."

"Nonsense," Draco said. "You chose to stay here because it's your last Christmas here, and you wanted to spend it with your friends. Only, when you signed up at the beginning of the month, you didn't know your friends would be giving you the cold shoulder. But don't worry, Granger, Christmas has a strange way of making people forgive and forget. And why shouldn't it? I mean, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year."

"Ah. Judging from the sarcasm in your voice, I'd say you're a regular Ebenezer Scrooge."

Draco stared at her blankly. "Ebenezer what?"

Hermione giggled. "Scrooge - Ebenezer Scrooge. He's an infamous character in a well-known muggle book. It's called A Christmas Carol. It's about a man named Ebenezer Scrooge, who's rich and spoiled, and who hates Christmas. And right before Christmas, he is visited by three different ghosts – the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future – who show him what a horrible person he has been his entire life, and how if he doesn't change soon, his future looks pretty grim."

"Granger, are you saying you think I'm a horrible person?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "No, that's not why I was comparing him to you at all. Really, it was only because you seem to dislike Christmas, and -"

"Relax, Granger," Draco said with a slight chuckle. "I was just playing. It sounds like an interesting story, actually."

"Oh, it is. It's one of my favorites." Hermione smiled. "You know, I probably have the book stashed away somewhere in my room, if you'd like to -"

Hermione's sentence got cut off when a young man came barreling up behind them and bumped into Hermione in the process of passing by them. The young man quickly continued on his way without apologizing for running into her.

"Hey!" Draco snarled. "Watch where you're going!"

But the boy either did not hear Draco, or he just didn't want to acknowledge him, because he never even looked back.

"Stupid git," Draco mumbled. He looked at Hermione. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied, looking down at herself. "Except for the fact I've now got hot butterbeer all over myself."

Sure enough, the warm butterbeer Hermione had been holding on to was now splattered all over her jacket.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger!" a voice called over to them. Draco turned his head to see Professor Trelawney passing by them on the street, a few shopping bags hanging from her arms.

"Hello," Draco mumbled in response. He had never been a huge fan of Professor Trelawney.

"Ready for Christmas, are you?" she asked, squinting at him through her thick, magnifying glasses.

"Not really," Draco muttered.

"How about you, Miss Granger?" their professor asked, turning to Hermione. "Are you -"

Suddenly, the woman gasped. Her features became slack and her eyes darkened. "Oh, you poor, poor child," she whispered.

Hermione shrugged. "It's just a little butterbeer. I have a spell that will take this stain out like nothing."

Professor Trelawney took a step closer to her, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on the side of Hermione's face. "Tomorrow," she said in a low, husky voice. "Tomorrow, you will die."

Hermione blinked. Draco smirked.

"Oh, the horror," Trelawney continued. She closed her eyes and withdrew her hand. "You will die a horrible, horrible death, and nothing will be able to save you. Nothing except -"

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her gaze fell upon Hermione, as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh, Miss Granger," she said in her normal voice. She squinted at Hermione and pointed to her jacket. "You've spilled something on yourself, dear."

With that, Trelawney continued on her merry way, whistling a tune Draco did not recognize. The second she was out of earshot, Draco sniggered and said to Hermione, "Can you believe that woman?"

Hermione did not respond. She just stared after Trelawney with an uneasy look on her face.

"Granger, please tell me you aren't taking her seriously?"

"Don't be daft," Hermione replied rather defensively. She had managed to tear her gaze away from Trelawney and was now glaring daggers at Draco. "Of course I'm not taking her seriously. And to be honest, I feel quite insulted that you would even think I would."

Draco laughed as the two of them began walking again. "I apologize, Granger. I don't know how I could have even entertained the thought." He paused for a moment, then said, "Hey, do you remember in our third year, when Trelawney would predict Potter's death on a weekly basis?"

That brought a small smile to Hermione's lips. "Yes. How could I forget? I lost count of all of the times he was supposed to have been decapitated."

"I know! I waited patiently every week to receive the news that Potter had lost his head, but it never came. I've loathed that woman ever since. You can't just keep getting a guy's hopes up like that, you know?"

Hermione playfully punched his arm. "That's mean, Malfoy. I know you hate Harry, but I honestly don't think you hate him enough to wish decapitation on him."

Draco shrugged. He wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss with Hermione how much he hated her best friend – who also happened to be the boy she was in love with. Luckily for him, Hermione didn't seem to expect him to make a comment on the matter, as she quickly changed the subject.

"So are you attending the Christmas Eve feast tonight?" she asked.

"Hmm," Draco said thoughtfully. "Well, all of my favorite professors will be there. As will Potter and the Weasley duo. Gosh, how could I pass up an offer like that? Oh, bollocks," he said, snapping his fingers. "I just remembered that I was planning on poking out my eyes with sharp objects tonight. Oh well, I guess you'll all just have to have fun without me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't kill you to get involved, you know. You might find that you actually like -"

"I might find I actually like Potter and the Weasleys?" Draco laughed. "Now you're the one being daft, Granger."

Hermione frowned at him. "Well, suit yourself. If you'd rather have Christmas Eve dinner all alone -"

"I would rather, Granger," Draco interrupted. "Let's just leave it at that."

They continued on in silence, until Hermione spoke up again. "So…what's in that box, anyway?" She pointed to the box he held tightly under his arm.

"If I thought it was any of your business, Granger, I would have told you already."

Hermione pouted. "Fine. I really don't care what's in there, anyway."

Draco smirked. "Oh, but you do care, Granger. I can tell. You're just as nosy as the next person."

"I am not!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm not nosy. I'm…curious, is all."

"Mmhmm," Draco said, turning his smirk into a grin. "Well, maybe if you're nice to me, later I'll tell you what's in here."

"Whatever," Hermione said, her voice laced with indifference.

Draco's grin remained plastered to his face as he glanced over at Hermione walking beside him. She had stuck her nose up in the air, as if to get her point across that she couldn't care less whether or not he ever revealed to her what was in the box. He could tell she was just pretending to not care, and it amused him. Before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "What's so funny?"

"Honestly? I have no idea, Granger."

But he was lying. He knew that what was so funny was the fact that they were walking back to school together, acting like friends. After years of loathing and tormenting between them, they were talking and joking around with each other. Smiling with each other. And even after the awkwardness from their post-Yule Ball kiss, they were still able to look each other in the eye and speak to one another. It was amazing, really – how the person he spent so many years hating, was now the only person who could make him smile.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "I just had this crazy idea."

Hermione glanced at him curiously. "Oh yeah? And what idea would that be?"

"Have dinner with me tonight." Draco was surprised by his own idea. He hadn't even known he'd had the idea until he'd said it.

"Dinner with you?" Hermione said slowly.

"Yeah. I mean, you were saying that things are kind of weird between you and your friends right now. So don't you think perhaps the Christmas Eve feast will be kind of awkward for you tonight?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I hadn't thought of that…"

"So it's settled, then?" Draco said. "Dinner in the common room, just you and me – awkward-free?"

Hermione appeared to be considering it, but finally shook her head and said, "It's a really nice offer, but…everyone's expecting me, and if I don't show up…"

"No," Draco said quickly, "it's fine, really. It was just a random idea that popped into my head, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said with a frown. "It's just -"

"Granger, it's okay."

Hermione stared down at the ground as they continued walking. "Thank you for the offer, though," she said softly. "It was very nice of you."

"Yeah, well…you know me," Draco quipped, "I'm always doing nice things."

Hermione laughed. Draco smiled at the sound. She had such a nice laugh – very melodic and sincere. For a brief moment, Draco found himself incredibly jealous of Hermione's friends – that they got to hear that laugh every day. Jealous that they got to see that smile of hers directed at them. Slowly, Draco was beginning to see what it was like to be friends with Hermione Granger, and more and more he was finding that he was enjoying it.

"Hermione!" a voice called out suddenly from behind them.

Both Draco and Hermione spun around to see Luna jogging to catch up with them. "Hermione," she said as she approached them, "you're leaving already?"

"Uh…" Hermione glanced up at Draco.

"I've got some things I need to do," Draco said. "I'll see you later, Granger."

Hermione nodded slightly and stared at him as he turned around.

Silently berating himself, Draco continued on his trek, all the while sensing Hermione's gaze following him. But when he turned back a few moments later…she was gone.

By the time Draco had returned to the common room later that day, Hermione was not there – but she had been at some point, judging from the fact that a copy of A Christmas Carol had been neatly placed on the table, along with a note that said, Read this if you get a chance. I think you might like it. –Granger. Draco had smirked at the fact that she signed the note with her last name. Reluctantly, he had picked the book up from the table and examined it. It wasn't a very big book. If he tried, he could probably finish by the end of the evening.

So that's what he did for the rest of the evening – he threw himself down onto his bed and read. He hated to admit it, but the book was very good. And even more so, he hated to admit that the main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, reminded him so much of not only himself, but his father as well. Mostly, though, he hated the fact that Hermione had seen the similarities – probably the reason she was so anxious for him to read it. But at the moment, Draco was too engrossed in the book to be concerned about that.

He was so engrossed in the book, as a matter of fact, that he hadn't even noticed when Hermione had returned home from the Christmas feast. At one point, he'd heard a noise coming from the common room, but he didn't bother to go out to greet her. He had already gone back to feeling awkward around her. He had practically asked her out on a date earlier, and she had turned him down. And Draco was not used to rejection. Usually, if he asked a girl to have dinner with him, she would squeal with delight and possibly faint. But Hermione was different – which is probably why Draco was so hurt by the fact she had turned him down. She was a one-of-a-kind girl, whose heart belonged to someone else. Someone who couldn't even see just how special she was…

Draco's mind began to wander the closer he got to the end of the book. By the time Ebenezer Scrooge was being visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future, he realized his eyes were becoming out of focus. He set the book onto his lap, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Suddenly, he realized he was tired, too.

He set the book onto his nightstand and got up off his bed to stretch. He was considering extinguishing all of the lights in his room and going to bed, when he heard a soft knock on his door. Curious as to why anyone would be knocking on his bedroom door, he walked over to it and opened it.

Hermione stood on the other side, clad in pajamas and a robe, looking somewhat sheepish. "Hi," she said in a small voice.

"Hey," Draco responded. He was surprised to notice how soft his voice was when he spoke.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"What? Oh, no," Draco said quickly. "I was just reading. I wasn't even aware it was this late."

Hermione's face lit up. "Reading A Christmas Carol?"

Draco nodded.

"And? What do you think?"

"It's okay," Draco said, not wanting to tell her how much he was really enjoying it. "It's practically autobiographical."

Hermione giggled. "You're too hard on yourself," she said.

"Yeah, well…" Draco's voice trailed off. For a moment, neither of them said a word, until Draco finally said, "So what brings you to my bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"Oh, uh…" Hermione began to blush. "Well…I couldn't sleep."

"Oh." Draco studied her. She looked shy and perhaps a bit embarrassed. But on top of that, she also appeared very tense. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded and smiled. But it wasn't the same sincere smile he'd seen earlier that day. This one seemed more forced.

"Here," Draco said, stepping aside. "Why don't you come in?"

Hermione hesitated. "Are you sure? I mean, our rules -"

"To hell with our rules," Draco said. "Come in."

"Thanks," Hermione said, taking a step into the bedroom. She stopped and glanced around. "So this is the infamous Malfoy bedroom? I've heard a lot of stories about this place."

It was Draco's turn to blush. He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah. So anyway…what's troubling you?"

Hermione shrugged. She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Nothing's troubling me. I just couldn't sleep. I just…I didn't want to be alone right now."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he watched her. Normally, Hermione appeared very cool, collected and confident. But at the moment, there was a definite change in her. She seemed distant, apprehensive, and…scared even. Suddenly, it dawned on him what might be bothering her.

"Granger, you're not actually worrying about what Trelawney said earlier, are you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione snapped. But instead of looking furious at his accusation, she instead looked a bit fearful.

He couldn't help but be amused by all of this. Hermione had been so adamant in their third year, about how Trelawney was such a phony – yet now, she was buying into the woman's charade. The old Draco from the beginning of the year would have seized this opportunity to taunt Hermione, but that Draco was in the past. Now, he found that even though it amused him, it concerned him as well.

Sitting down on his bed, he patted the spot next to him with his hand and said, "Here, take a seat."

Hermione glanced at his bed tentatively before sitting down beside him. Draco figured she had probably never been on a boy's bed before. Well, besides a bed belonging to either Harry or Ron, because they didn't count. And she probably never thought she'd find herself sitting on Draco Malfoy's bed.

"Granger," he said, "you don't have to pretend that you weren't a little unnerved by what Trelawney said. Hell, I would probably feel a little uneasy about it too, if she'd said the same thing to me."

"Really?" Hermione said. "I mean, I'm not really worried that it's going to come true, it's just…I don't know. It's just made me think, is all."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Think about what?"

"About life," Hermione replied. "About death. How each and every day could be our last, and we just don't know. I guess it just scares me a little to think about it."

"Then don't think about it," Draco said simply. "Especially when you go to bed. Thoughts about death are enough to keep anyone up at night."

"I guess," Hermione mumbled. She was staring down at her hands, which, Draco noticed, were shaking slightly.

He couldn't stand to see her like this. He was so used to seeing her happy and carefree that her uneasiness was making him feel uneasy. Quickly, he racked his brain, trying to think of a way to make her feel better. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to talk any sense to her, so the only other option he could think of was something he didn't really want to do. However, he knew it had to be done.

He got up off the bed and walked over to his bureau. He opened up the top drawer, reached in and pulled out a box, wrapped neatly in Christmas paper. Hermione's gaze followed him as he walked back to her and held the box out.

"Here," he said as she reached out and took it. "I was going to wait and give you this tomorrow, but…well, I think maybe you should have it tonight."

Hermione stared down at the box with wide eyes. "What is this?"

"You have to open it up to find out," Draco replied, sitting back down next to her.

Her shaking hands reached up and gently removed the ribbon. Draco smiled as he noticed that once again, she was blushing.

"You really shouldn't have," she said as she began peeling away the wrapping. "I didn't know we were exchanging gifts…"

Draco shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just open it already."

As soon as she had taken all of the wrapping paper off, she took a moment to neatly fold the paper up and place it beside her. Draco rolled his eyes impatiently.

He was nervous about her opening up the box. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd gotten her a present – the idea had just popped into his head a couple of weeks before, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. It still did seem like a good idea, but he was scared at what her reaction would be. After all, it probably wasn't every day she received a gift from an adversary.

So he watched her carefully as she opened up the box, then as she rifled through the tissue paper that rested at the top, hoping to be able to read her expression. So far, all he could really see was curiosity.

Slowly, she reached into the box and pulled out what was inside. When she had it in her hands, she said, "It's a box." Then, as she examined it closer, she said, "It's…a very beautiful box."

She wasn't lying. The box was made from the finest wood, stained a dark brown, and contained many intricate carvings of different flowers all over it. She grinned as she ran her finger over each and every carving. "This is gorgeous," she mumbled.

"Open it up," Draco said softly.

She held the box up closer to her face. When she found the small latch on the front, she lifted the top up, and suddenly, soft music filled the air.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, as one hand flew to her mouth.

"It's a music box," Draco said with a grin. "See? There's even a little ballerina."

Sure enough, when the box opened up, it revealed a tiny stage, on which a tiny ballerina danced around. Unlike a muggle music box, where the ballerina was just a cheap plastic figurine that just spun around endlessly, this music box contained an enchanted figurine that moved back and forth on the stage, performing even the most complex of ballet moves.

He looked up to see Hermione's expression, only to see her eyes filling up with tears.

"Th-that's…that's the song my mother used to sing to me every night," she sputtered.

"I know," Draco said. "You were humming it in front of me. Remember?"

Hermione nodded. "How did you…I mean, how -"

"I owled your mother," Draco replied, without her even having to ask the question first. "I asked her if she could please tell me the name of the song she used to sing to you every night, to get you to go to sleep. She owled back, more than pleased to tell me what the song was. So from there, I went to Bagatelles and special ordered the box. I asked that they make sure to find the right song and program it in. I wasn't sure if you were a fan of ballet, but the owner insisted that it's traditional to have a ballerina in there, so…I went with it. I just picked it up this morning."

"That's what was in the box you were holding," Hermione whispered, reaching her hand up to quickly wipe away the tears that had started to flow.

Draco nodded. "Yeah. So, that's why I didn't tell you what it was earlier. I was going to wait and give it to you tomorrow, but…well, you're having a hard time sleeping, and I know you said that the song your mother sang to you would always make you fall asleep, so -"

He was interrupted by a sob. He looked up to see Hermione no longer trying to wipe away the tears – there were just too many to contain now.

"Granger, are you okay? I mean, if you don't like it…" His heart sank at the possibility of her disliking the gift.

"No," Hermione said quickly, sniffling. "No, Malfoy – I love it. This just…this is the nicest present I have ever received."

Draco was taken-aback. Was she just saying that to be nice, or did she really mean it? Because if she really meant it, that would mean that his gift had beaten Harry's gift of a journal…

"I can't tell you how much this means to me," Hermione continued in between sobs. "I mean, all the trouble you went through -"

"Well, it's not like I made it myself," Draco joked. "I had the easy job of ordering it."

Hermione shook her head. "You…you remembered me humming that song. You owled my mother. You spent Merlin knows how much on this…"

Her reaction sure did seem sincere enough. Feeling pretty satisfied with himself, he grinned and said, "So, you like it then?"

"No, Malfoy. I love it. Thank you so much."

"It was no big deal," he said nonchalantly. "But you're welcome, Granger."

Hermione sniffled once again and dried off the last of the tears. Gently, she closed the box and sat there for a moment with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Something on your mind, Granger?"

She glanced up at him. "Yeah, actually…" Her voice trailed off. She was getting that sheepish look again. "I was wondering if – and you can say no if you want – maybe I could…sleep in here tonight?"

Her voice was so quiet that he hadn't been sure he'd heard her correctly. But from the way she was blushing, he figured he'd heard her just fine. "Yeah," he said slowly, as her question began to sink in. "Yeah, sure. I can just sleep on the floor -"

"No, um…I-I mean, if you c-could…sleep…if we could sleep in the bed together…I-I mean sleep, not, you know…"

Draco would have been amused at her stuttering, if only he hadn't been so shocked over what she was asking. "Oh, right," he said quickly. "Sleep. Yeah, I can – I mean, we can -"

"It's just, I don't really want to be alone tonight…"

"Right. Sure. Yeah, I-I understand." Damn. He was starting to stutter, too.

"Thanks," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It would mean a lot to me."

Sleeping with him would mean a lot to her? What kind of parallel universe had he just stumbled into? He didn't question it, though. He didn't dare to. Anything he said could at any moment make her realize that she'd just asked him to sleep in the same bed as her, and she would rush out of the room in horror. Draco didn't want that. No, he didn't want her sleeping alone tonight just as much as she didn't.

"Well, um…" Draco stood up from the bed, along with Hermione, and began to pull the covers down. "Yeah, just…crawl in there. Make yourself comfortable."

Hermione gave him a relieved smile. She set her music box down on the nightstand and opened it back up. As soon as she was under the covers, Draco proceeded to get in next to her. It was amazing how, despite how odd it felt to be lying in the same bed as Hermione Granger, it also felt so right.

Draco muttered a spell that plunged the room into darkness for a brief moment, before the soft light of the moon began to pour in through the window.

He turned onto his side so that he was facing Hermione, who was also lying on her side. She looked so beautiful with the moonlight cascading across her face that Draco was having a hard time not saying it out loud. Luckily, Hermione spoke before he was able to get any words out.

"Thank you, Draco. For everything."

He blinked at the sound of his first name on her lips. He was amazed how wonderful his name sounded when she spoke it.

Despite the shock that they were apparently now on a first-name basis, he managed to reply, "You're welcome…Hermione."

She smiled when he said her name. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing he was thinking when she'd said his name. It was hard to tell, but really – it was the last thing on his mind, as a split second later, she leaned over and kissed him.

He was surprised, to say the least, but the shock quickly wore off.

It was a completely different kiss from the first one they'd shared. While the other one had been passionate and frantic, this one was soft and sweet…firm, yet gentle. It lasted only a few brief seconds before she pulled away.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found her smiling at him. From what he could see, there was no trace of regret in her features. Draco smiled back.

"Goodnight," she said softly as she shifted so that she was lying on her opposite side, her back facing him.

"Goodnight," he managed to sputter. He stared at the back of her head, his heart racing. She had just kissed him. Hermione Granger had just kissed him. Willingly. He hadn't made any sort of first move – it had been all her.

It was a good thing she could no longer see him, because he was grinning like an idiot. And he had to resist the urge to pull her back for another kiss. No, he was going to have to take things slow with her. There was a good chance she'd wake up in the morning regretting having kissed him, anyway. Or, perhaps the kiss wasn't meant to be romantic, anyway, rather as more of a token of her appreciation…

"Malfoy?" she said suddenly in a drowsy voice.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Sorry for the kiss? She certainly did not need to apologize for that.

"I'm sorry," she said, in a voice so soft he could barely hear her, "that you gave me such a wonderful gift, but I didn't give you anything."

Draco chuckled at that. "Oh, Granger," he said. "You have no idea. You just gave me everything I wanted."

She did not respond to that. Draco wasn't sure if it was because she was trying to figure out what he'd meant by it, or if it was because she had fallen asleep. He figured, judging from the steady rhythm of her breathing, that it was the latter. It's probably just as well, Draco thought to himself. He wasn't sure he was ready for her to know what he'd meant by that, anyway.

He continued to stare at her in the moonlight. He would have been content watching her sleep all night, but he could feel his eyelids becoming heavy, threatening to close on him. He did not try to fight them. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner Christmas morning would come. He had a good feeling about the next day – if only because he would be waking up next to Hermione Granger.

As the soft sound of the music box wafted through the air, Draco closed his eyes and slipped into what would be the last peaceful sleep he would be having for a very long time.