Parting Gifts

"Good Lord, Draco, why didn't you tell me earlier?" Narcissa's voice rang out through the bright but still empty corridors of the large manor home.

"I didn't think it was that important-"

Narcissa snorted. "Men never think anything is important. Especially not when it comes to the most eventf-"

"Okay, okay, I get the idea. But can you set aside a time for that? Maybe during the first dance or something?"

Narcissa's features softened. "Of course, don't worry about it. I'll send you an owl."

***

Hermione trudged through the snow as she searched for Christmas presents for everyone. Draco had scowled at the thought of her spending money on him and had given her no ideas as to what he wanted for Christmas. She figured she ought to get something for the Weasleys; it would give her a little more closure. And something for Harry, naturally, and her parents, despite their confusion. It eased her conscience.

Not to mention now she added others onto her list: Pansy, Astoria, Theo, Blaise, Narcissa. She figured she'd get something for the women first, and the men later; after all, it was easier for her to find things for them than for the men.

First, she made a stop in a candle store. Pansy had wanted some scented candles- she'd hinted at it- and Astoria had confided in Hermione she'd already found something. Then for Astoria, an infinity scarf. Next store on her list- the jewellery store.

There, she found earrings for Narcissa, cufflinks for both Theo and Blaise, and a set of gold bangles, two set with tiny emeralds at the ends and one with a ruby- friendship bracelets, of sorts- although very expensive ones, Hermione thought wryly at the checkout. The cashier, however, seemed relieved to make a sale.

For the Weasleys, Hermione purchased a box of chocolates for Arthur, a broomstick care kit for Ginny (she remembered how she'd eyed Harry's that Christmas), a set of quills for Percy, a pair of dragon-hide gloves for Charlie, a new wand holster for Bill (as he'd broken his during the war and Hermione was pretty sure he hadn't bothered to replace it yet), a Chudley Cannons poster for Ron, and a journal for George, as well as a box of choice sweets for each family to share. A set of mugs and a box of exotic teas for her parents.

A book caught her eye-and she recalled Harry telling her about it when they were much younger. Eyes starting to tear a little, she picked it up as well as a blank scrapbook for him to fill with pictures of him and Ginny and their family-to-be. It pained her to think of her friends as moving on without her, but it would be harder to think of all the fond memories with Ronald included. Shaking her head, she paid for them, her bag (despite its infinite capacity) now feeling weighed down.

And Draco. What was she going to get for him?

A lightbulb went off over her head, and she purchased a second scrapbook before heading home.

***

Draco arched a brow at all the things Hermione dumped out on the living room floor.

"Well?"

"Christmas shopping."

"I see. Who's it for?"

Hermione hastily vanished the second, more ornate scrapbook, as his eyes scanned the rest of the pile.

"A bunch of it is for the Weasleys, for closure, and then I have stuff for Harry, my parents, Pansy, Astoria, Blaise and Theo."

"You know you don't have to give gifts to the wankers I call friends."

"It's only polite, Draco." Hermione nudged him not-so-gently with a sharp elbow.

"Okay, okay."

She began wrapping them all, the box-shaped ones covered in shiny paper and the irregularly shaped ones hidden in bags, signing cards with a sorrowful look in her eyes as she stared at the words her own quill had marked on the parchment.

***

The days, in contradiction to her childhood thoughts, flew by, and before Hermione knew it, it was Christmas day. Draco had been increasingly teasing the past couple of weeks, and it had been a whirlwind of romantic dates in various cities- Venice, where they'd taken a gondola ride around the city, Verona, where they'd visited Juliet's balcony- Draco had even left a letter, although why Hermione had no idea- Athens, to see the Parthenon, Rome to visit the Coliseum, and plenty of others- Tokyo, Beijing, New York, a village in Peru Hermione no longer remembered the name of. Hermione had raised an eyebrow at it all, but Draco hadn't bat an eye whenever she requested to go somewhere in particular.

Her good mood about the date abated, however, when she remembered the pile of gifts waiting to be sent. With a heavy heart, she sent them off, praying nothing came in return.

***

Ginny stretched lazily as the sunlight filtered in over Harry's snow-covered apartment building, Harry next to her fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand (or possibly on the floor, it had happened before that they were knocked off while Harry and Ginny were.. .. busy).

"Wake up. We have to be at the Burrow in twenty." She nudged him before rolling out of bed, tying a bathrobe around herself before freshening up and dressing in leggings and an oversized Quidditch jersey of Harry's, her hair in a haphazard bun at the nape of her neck.

Harry groaned before stumbling to the closet, pulling out jeans and a plaid shirt and throwing them on before mumbling something about a cup of coffee and making his way to the kitchen.

Two cups and ten minutes later, they were in the front yard of the Burrow, covered in snow. Ginny smiled, a bit of a pained one at the thought that Hermione wouldn't be there- frowning when she remembered her friend still hadn't responded to the letter she'd sent what seemed like an eternity ago.

"Ginny, dear! Come on in." Molly ushered them into the house, muttering quietly about the temperature outside, when an owl at the window hooted in a dignified manner, bearing a large bag. Ginny hastened to let it in.

The owl dropped the bag onto the table with a bit of a clatter- a lightening charm, Harry thought- and hooted once more before leaving. Ron, who had just come downstairs, frowned at it.

George was right in his footsteps and dumped the contents of the bag out; they returned to their natural weight and soon the array of bags and gift-wrapped boxes was on display. George frowned, turning one over.

"This has got your name on it, Gin."

He handed the large box to Ginny, before picking up another.

"This one's got dad's name." He passed it to Arthur, before passing Bill and Charlie- who had also arrived- their gifts. The Burrow was full to bursting, as Fleur and their daughters, Victoire and Dominique, had also come, as well as Angelina.

Another, with Harry's name, this one, for Percy, one more for Ron, and then the last one for him. He was about to tear into the paper when Ginny let out a gasp.

"What is it, Gin?"

Ginny stumbled backwards onto the sofa. "These gifts- these gifts are from Hermione."

Ron dropped his package- the smallest and lightest of anyone's. Molly gasped- the girl who had left her son for another man had

"They can't be."

"Well, they are." Ginny held up the letter, bearing Hermione's name in the corner. Ron tore into his eagerly, finding the letter tied to the Chudley Cannons poster. Feeling it imperative to announce to everyone Hermione had surely sent the gifts to signify she was coming back and that she had surely written some sort of love declaration in her letter to him, he read aloud:

George arched a brow. "What's she mean, lies?" He jerked his head towards the letter. Privately, he had always had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione wasn't the one that had instigated the events that had ended their relationship- not that he'd said anything, because his mum believed her darling Ronniekins- but it was just a gut instinct. Maybe there would be answers now.

Ron's face paled a little. "I dunno what she's talking about."

Charlie frowned. "'Please, consider this a parting gift from me?' What does she mean by that?"

Ginny let out a dry sob as she read through her letter, which seemed to be significantly longer than Ron's, clapping a hand over her mouth as she bolted upstairs. Harry dropped his letter and gifts to the ground and followed her. Slowly, the rest of the Weasley family opened their letters, their firm belief in their son and brother a little more shaken than they would've liked.

***