Custom-Made Boots

Three weeks before Christmas:

Draco Malfoy had always prided himself for his cunning and ability to uncover secrets, but none more so than today. As he stared at the scrap of paper, a receipt, he once again congratulated himself for having only spent two days finding it. In his hand he held the evidence to something his wife had been keeping from him for weeks now.

His Christmas present. That which was supposed to be a surprise.

Oh, he was surprised alright. Over the years his wife had gotten better at being able to surprise him for Christmas, and not for his lack of trying to find out. He never discovered beforehand what her present for him was until Christmas morning.

Until now. It seems she was getting sloppy. She had used the receipt as a sort of bookmark for the newest manuscript of Hogwarts: A History, which she was in the process of editing. Granted that the manuscript was stowed away in her desk drawer in her section of the Malfoy Manor library, where he wasn’t supposed to go rifling through, but still…she could have “hidden” the receipt in a less obvious place.

The incriminating piece of paper held in the elegant hands of one Draco Malfoy told of a special order for dragonhide boots, size 16, custom-made by the Italian boot maker Vincenzo Fierregino. Signore Fierregino was known to be the best wizard boot maker in two centuries whose products were much sought after though they cost no less than a few hundred Galleons. When he announced his retirement from the business three years ago, final orders for his custom-made boots were well over a thousand galleons. The boots had become much more than status symbols. Signore Fierregino had not produced any custom-made boots for three years. Requests from prominent wizards for Signore Fierregino to return from retirement were unheeded. The old wizard was simply too busy enjoying his retirement aboard his yacht on the Mediterranean to relent.

Yet here was a receipt dated November 8, acknowledging a deposit made for a pair of boots. Seems like the old buzzard was making an exception from retirement after all.

Draco’s heart swelled. A pair of Fierregino boots was as rare as the blue diamonds he had gotten Hermione for her birthday this year. How his wife managed to convince Signore Fierregino to take one last order, he’ll never know, but Draco knew he looked forward to properly thanking her for this Christmas present.

Draco carefully replaced the receipt back in the Hogwarts: A History manuscript, making it look like he’d never touched it. As he walked away from the library, the feeling of excitement over the discovery of his surprise was tempered a bit by guilt. Maybe he should’ve just waited until Christmas morning instead of sneaking around trying to find out what his present was. That sliver of guilt was quickly expelled as Draco justified that he’d still be surprised on Christmas morning anyway, as he had no idea what color or style the boots were going to be. Therefore, a guilt-free Draco left the library to find his wife so he could show just how thankful he was for her efforts in his “surprise” Christmas present.

A week before Christmas:

Hermione Granger, mother of three boys, ex-Auror, Order of Merlin, First Class, author and editor of several published works, tried to hide her disappointment as she sat with her son in the breakfast room. An owl had just delivered the following missive:

Dear Ms Granger,

It is with deep regret that I am unable to deliver the dragonhide boots you ordered before the Christmas holidays.

I have unfortunately caught a severe case of the Malifula flu and have been bedridden for over a week. As such, I am unable to complete the finishing touches to the boots. As you know, I personally create the final details on all the boots that bear my name and I do not delegate this task to less-talented wizards. I am afraid that the boots you custom-ordered for your husband will not be completed until after the New Year.

I understand that these boots were to be a Christmas present for Mr. Malfoy and I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience my infirmity has caused you. I felt I needed to convey my apologies personally and to further extend my regrets, I have arranged to return the deposit for the boots back to your account at Gringotts.

Please feel free to remit the payment in full once the boots are delivered to you. You should have them no later than the first week of January.

Again, my deepest apologies.

Sincerely,

Signore Vincenzo Fierregino

“What’s wrong, Mum?" asked six-year-old Julius Malfoy. The eldest of the three Malfoy children, he had always shown deep perception for a wizard of his age. He was the splitting image of his father at that age, sans the sneer and cold eyes.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. Just having to do with your father’s Christmas present.” Fortunately, Draco had left for the Ministry early that morning and Hermione was free to speak of his present to their son. Hermione had a special bond with their first born and trusted Julius to keep her confidences, especially when it came to surprise presents for his father.

Any further inquiries from Julius were interrupted by the noisy entrance of the two youngest Malfoy boys. Twins Hadrian and Alexander sported the same blond head as their father and older brother, but had their mother’s sparkling brown eyes. All blondes, the three Malfoy boys were sometimes referred to as the Golden Trio, inheriting the term used to describe their mother and her two best friends at Hogwarts. At three years old, the twins were just active enough to get into a lot of trouble if unsupervised. Fortunately, Narcissa was visiting for the holidays and had agreed to stay with the children all day so that Hermione could run some last minute errands.

Hermione had been feeling under the weather lately, and had made an appointment to see a medi-wizard at St. Mungo’s that morning. She sincerely hoped that she did not have the same flu bug that Signore Fierregino caught. The holidays were hectic enough as it is without having to get sick in the middle of it. Plus, the Malfoys were hosting the annual Christmas dinner at the Manor this year.

After settling the twins down for their breakfast, at which time Narcissa had joined them in the breakfast room, Hermione apparated to St. Mungo’s, her mind occupied with coming up with a list of possible alternatives for a Christmas present for her husband.

Christmas Morning

By the time Draco and Hermione had managed (most unwillingly) to drag themselves out of bed (and from each other’s tangled limbs) and into the family room where the main Christmas tree and the presents were, the Golden Trio had finished opening up all their Christmas presents.

A gaggle of “Happy Christmas, Mum!” “Happy Christmas, Dad!” and “Thanks for the presents!” greeted the couple.

Julius clutched his new Windwhistler training broom, as if afraid it would zoom away if he loosened his grasp. He’d virtually ignored the rest of his presents. He gazed at his father, a mixture of gratitude and hopeful anticipation. Draco, catching the look in his firstborn’s eyes, laughed and said, “Hey, sport, how about we try that broom out after breakfast?” He was rewarded by a tight hug from a six-year-old boy who still didn’t let go of his training broom.

The attention span of the twins was much shorter, and after half an hour of playing alternately between the Muggle toys from the Granger grandparents and the wizard toys from Narcissa, they grew bored.

Fortunately, Narcissa appeared and herded the boys to breakfast. Draco made to follow, but a gentle tug on his arm by Hermione reminded him that he had yet to open his present from her.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have forgotten that had he not already known what his present was.

Hermione didn’t seem to notice as she crouched down to retrieve an intricately wrapped package buried deep under the tree. Draco sneaked an admiring gaze of his wife’s back side, but his entertainment was cut short as she handed him his present. It was then he noticed that the package was a lot smaller than it should have been.

Size sixteen boots do not normally fit in a package the size of a man’s hand. He looked at his wife, brows furrowing in confusion, but at Hermione’s expectant smile, something dawned on Draco.

Of course! She reduced the boots to elaborate the surprise! Draco laughed inwardly at the lengths Hermione went through to surprise him.

Thinking he’d surprise her, he grabbed his wand and pointing to the package, muttered, “Engorgio!”

“What are you doing?” shrieked Hermione. She looked dismayed.

“Well, I have to eventually try them on. Might as well return them to their original size.”

Hermione looked at him suspiciously, but merely said, “Just open the package, Dray.”

So he did.

That look of confusion Draco sported earlier when Hermione handed him his present returned, as Draco pulled out from the wrapping, not a pair of custom-made Fierregino dragonhide boots, but a pair of hand-knitted size sixteen pink socks, with a silver stick hanging from the point where they were tied together!

Before he could say anything, Hermione pointed her wand at the socks and said, “Reducio!”

“What---?”

“Just returning them to their original size, love," was her only reply. Now she looked at him with both amusement and disbelief.

A disbelief mirrored on Draco’s face as he stared at the tiny pink socks.

Did Hermione Granger, love of his life, his wife of seven years, mother of his sons, mistress of the Manor, just give him palm-sized pink socks for Christmas?

What was she playing at? Is this some sort of Christmas Fools joke? What happened to his Fierregino boots?

Draco continued to stare disbelievingly at his “present," part of him willing it to turn back into the dragonhide boots.

Then it dawned on him that in their smaller size, these didn’t look anything at all like tiny socks, but rather like…

…small boots…

…booties…

…baby booties.

He brought the booties up for a closer look and realized that the “stick” holding them together was actually a small charm. More precisely, a charm in the form of a wand.

And Draco Malfoy finally “got” his Christmas present.

“Really?” He grinned at his wife as he reached to give her a searing kiss.

“Really.” She confirmed, returning his kiss with equal fervor.

After a few minutes they had to break for air.

Still holding Hermione, Draco stared lovingly at the booties. “Wow…wow! This is …this is some Christmas surprise!” He was starting to tear up, quite unlike him, but he didn’t care.

“When…?”

“Well, I found out last week. Remember that appointment I had at St. Mungo’s? Turns out it wasn’t the flu after all! And I’m due in July!”

“Are you sure it’s going to be a witch? Because as much as I love the boys, I think I’d be a bit disappointed if it’s another son…”

“Quite sure. I had them check twice. That particular information was crucial to your present---you always talk about having a little girl, and I wanted them to be sure. For you.”

With a whoop of joy, Draco picked Hermione up and twirled her around. “ I love you, Hermione Malfoy! This is the best Christmas present a wizard can ask for!”

The joy of telling the Golden Trio about their baby sister and the pervading excitement in the Manor over the coming new Malfoy effectively shut out all other thoughts of Christmas presents.

It wasn’t until later, when the Zabinis, Potters and Weasleys were over for the annual Malfoy Christmas dinner that Draco remembered the Fierregino boots. Draco had overheard Lavender regaling Hermione with a detailed account of her last shoe shopping spree.

“I thought you were getting me Fierregino boots for Christmas,” Draco asked his wife when he found a minute alone with her.

“How did you know about those?” she asked incredulously. “Draco Malfoy, were you snooping around for your Christmas present?”

“I found the receipt …” He had the decency to look sheepish. He didn’t, however, bother to elaborate just how he happened to find the receipt.

Hermione shrugged. “Signore Fierregino was too ill and unable to make the boots after all. He returned the deposit, though. Are you disappointed?”

“Not at all. The booties you got me instead were far more precious.” He smiled blissfully, kissing her before he turned back toward their guests. Thus, he missed the smirk Hermione sported behind his back as he sauntered away towards Blaise Zabini.

Let him think that he wasn’t getting those boots at all. She intended to present them to him as a surprise for his birthday instead. Congratulating herself for her unbroken record of Christmas surprise presents, Hermione proceeded to continue to enjoy the rest of the Christmas party.