Amid the Falling Snow

Draco, King of the Firewhiskey and Hater of Plastic

Draco stared at Hermione in disbelief. Why, all of a sudden, was she everywhere he went? Did she really want him to destroy his liver by drinking every night? Breaking it off with him was one thing, but showing up all over London was just plain cruel. Just what was it that she wanted from him? To stomp all over his heart, throw it into the sea of forgotten souls and leave him there in a pool of misery? Not if he could help it! He'd close his heart to her. Sorry, dear, my heart has no vacancy!

"What a small world! It's been twice in the past twenty-four hours we've bumped into each other. Fancy a cup of tea and a bit of chatting?" Hermione said behind a smile. How could she be smiling at a time like this? Draco thought to himself.

"I'm, sort of, on my way somewhere...important," Draco told her, lying through clenched teeth.

"Oh, alright. It's been...good to see you. You look great! I'll see you later, then," she answered quietly, starting towards the exit.

Draco watched her go out the door. A sudden thought came over him. Maybe he should have accepted her offer. After all, it was just a cup of tea. A harmless cup of tea between friends. Draco ran out the door after her.

"Hermione, wait!" he cried, catching up to her. "I'm quite thirsty," he stated.

She beamed. "A spot of tea, then? Come, inside. It's chilly out here anyhow."

Draco followed her back inside the building and into her apartment. It was the cleanest place he had ever been in. The couch had a plastic covering (for what, he had no idea), the wooden floor so clean that he could see his reflection, and even the bookcase was in alphabetical order! It was just like her to do that. He was starting to wonder why he decided to accept her offer. He knew he'd regret it later.

"Your home is very...er...clean," Draco mused as he went into the kitchen.

"Thank you. I tidied it all last night. It'd been a few months and I hadn't even unpacked!" she answered, laughing to herself.

"I see," he said, not having anything else to say. It was actually quite awkward between them.

Hermione acquired two mugs from the cupboard and poured tea into them. "Sugar or honey?" she asked, turning to him.

"Actually, I'd rather have lemon, if that's alright. I like my tea sour and bitter," he told her. Just like your heart, he thought angrily to himself.

"Of course, that'll be fine. Go into the sitting room. I'll be there in a moment." Draco did so, sitting down on the sofa. It was uncomfortable, all that plastic. He made a note to kill whoever invented such a thing. Hermione entered shortly after carrying a tray full of biscuits and bread.

"Here we are. So tell me, Draco," she started, picking up her cup of tea. "How have you been?"

"Alright, I suppose. Work occupies a lot of my time. Doesn't leave time for much else," he answered.

"Oh, really? Where do you work?"

"I own a Potions shop in Diagon Alley, actually. The Apothecary closed after the war, so I took this as an opportune moment to earn a living."

"That's wonderful! I'm happy for you! And your parents? How are they?"

Draco shrugged. "I wouldn't know. They are probably doing what they do best. After my father was let out of Azkaban, he stopped his life of crime and took up golf. It's a Muggle sport, so I really have no idea how he encountered it."

Hermione burst out in laughter. "Golf? That's...different."

"Enough about me, though. How are you?" Draco asked, curious about her love life.

"I'm...fine," was all she said.

"Are you? You don't sound sincere about that."

"Yes, yes. Of course I am. Just because Harry married Ginny and Ron is marrying that bloody American girl doesn't mean I'm not FINE!" she shouted. What in the world was happening?

"I...perhaps I should go," Draco told her, getting up. He didn't know what to say to her, and was afraid that he'd say the wrong thing.

"No, please don't. I could really use someone to talk to," she pleaded.

"Alright, I'll stay," he decided, secretly hoping that would happen. Vulnerability was key to the world of the Malfoys.

***

Hermione told Draco what had happened the day before when Ron came to tell her the "fantastic" news. She really had no idea what made her even invite him into her house, but she did. She also had no idea why she was pouring out her life to him, but she did. Maybe it was because she was lonely, or she was just dying to tell someone. It could also be the fact that he appeared to have changed. He actually wanted to listen to her thoughts. Not ignore them, as everyone else seemed to enjoy doing. Perhaps there was hope for a friendship after all.

"So now he thinks I approve of his wedding. I wish I could tell him what I really think," she said, finishing.

Draco stared at Hermione longingly and it made her a bit uncomfortable. He's probably just thinking of how much of sap I am, she thought to herself.

"You know, you should just tell him your thoughts, and if he doesn't listen, then he's a bastard."

"Oh, if I do that, then he'll tell Helena and she'll hate me even more! I don't think I could take it!" she told him.

"If he was a good friend, he wouldn't," Draco said quietly. Where was this insightful Draco coming from?

"Ron's different. He's..." she started, trying to think of a good adjective to describe him.

"Stupid? Mundane? Thick as honey?" he offered.

"No! Ron's...well...Ron," she finally said, defeated.

"Ron is Ron. That's really explicit," he retorted.

"Oh, shut up!" she cried, laughing. She was smiling for one of the first times since she left Hogwarts.

"Fine, fine. So, what about Potter? He married Ginny, then? Such a shame. She could have done better."

"Who, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, that's a very redundant question being that there is only one girl we're speaking of. I know it's hard to picture, but Harry is in fact a male," Draco said, trying to humour her.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him like a five year old. She loved how free she could be around him.

"Well, that's mature, Ms. Granger. Have a bit of dignity."

Hermione just grinned and stared at him. She felt odd, as if something new sprung inside her. She felt like a different person, and little time even passed. Something about Draco made her curious to know more. He changed. Now thoughtful, and, dare she say it, a decent person. This was amusing to her. Draco, once an angry, bitter soul; now kind and fun to be around. She stifled a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Draco asked accusingly, laughing himself.

"Oh, nothing. I just find it entertaining how you have a bit of chocolate on your face," she answered hurriedly, flicking chocolate spread on his face with a spoon and running into the kitchen before he could catch her. Soon enough, he was behind her.

"Prepare to laugh your heart out, my dear," he told her, ready to tickle her. She hurried off through the house.

"You can't catch me!" she teased as she hid behind a door. She saw Draco's feet sneak past, stop, and turn back.

"Gotcha!" he cried, tickling her. After a few minutes, Hermione still laughing, Draco stopped. They were lying in the middle of the floor, giggling as if they either were children or had one too many drinks.

"Hermione," Draco started in a whisper. Why was he whispering? Was what he was going to say crucial to a new relationship? "Why is there plastic on your sofa?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was acting like Ron. Instead of answering, she just laughed again, averting his gaze. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath. She could smell him, a smell of winter and hot chocolate. She felt as though she was going to melt in place while being next to him. She listened to him rant about her sofa.

"I mean honestly! Who puts plastic on a sofa? It's so sticky and, quite frankly, unattractive," he informed her.

"I happen to like it! It meshes well with my house!" she insisted.

Draco glanced at his watch. "As fun as this has been, I'd better get going. I've got to get to my shop. It really was good to see you, Hermione. Maybe we can do this again." He stood and pulled her up.

Giving her a hug, he said, "Don't do anything mad, darling." He opened the door and left, crying, "Until we meet again!" over his shoulder.

Hermione was left bewildered. He was so different, so crazy and wild. Her heart yearned to run after him, to kiss him and make time stand still. Sighing, she picked up the tray, realising he hadn't touched his tea. After putting the dishes in the sink, she left the kitchen and curled up on the couch. Her mind whirled with thoughts about him. Well, at least she could say she tried to move on. Maybe not. She gazed out her window and saw an owl flying towards it. Who is that from? she wondered. The owl tapped the window with its beak and she let it in, untying the letter from its leg. After she gave it a little treat, it flew off into the distance. On the front of the envelope was one name. Hermione. Still no hint of who it could have been. She opened it quickly and pulled the letter out.

Darling Hermione,

How are you my dear? Good, I hope. Ron told me you were having a bit of trouble. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. Anyways, Harry and I were wondering if you'd like to have dinner with us and Ron and Helena. It'd be a wonderful little get together. We'd love it if you'd join us! If you'd like, you can bring someone with you. We really would love to meet your boyfriend! If want to come, it's at six o' clock this the evening. Bring your lovely homemade pie! We all love it!

With love,

Ginny

Oh great. A bloody dinner with married and to-be married friends, and her, all alone. It was as if they enjoyed throwing that in her face every chance they got! Fine, if they really want her to go, she would. They could have their laughs as she once again goes with no date. But of course! How could she have been so stupid! Draco! She could ask Draco to go with her. As friends, naturally. She hurried to start the pie and wrote a note to Draco, asking him for the favour.

***

Draco was in his shop when he received an owl. He quickly opened it, sensing it was something important.

Draco

I know this is really short notice, but could you do me a huge favour? Ginny invited me to a little dinner, and every time I'm always dateless. Would you save me from embarrassment and go with me? It's at six o' clock. Thank you so much.

Hermione

Draco folded the note and slipped it into his back pocket. He hated dinners, especially when Potter and Weasley were present. He'd do it for Hermione, though. He quickly wrote her back agreeing to meet her at the front entrance of their building. A customer hurried into the shop.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me where I could find a potion for my wife...?" the man asked. Draco helped him and he soon left. Poor bastard, he thought to himself.

Draco's mind went to earlier that day. He actually had fun; he had expected it to be awkward and uptight, Hermione especially. He was still confused about the whole plastic on the sofa thing, though. That was just bizarre. Muggles were awfully peculiar; maybe that's where she got the idea. Silly girl. Maybe he'd get his mother's designer to help her with her décor choices. Draco looked at his watch. Five o' clock He'd better get going. After closing the shop (it was his, he could do whatever he wanted), he Apparated home to get dressed. Being sure that he didn't look too dressy (he had no reason to please anyone); he put on a little cologne and went outside. He saw a batch of flowers in a row and grabbed one (it was the thought that counted!). At five thirty, Hermione finally came outside.

"Took you long enough," Draco snapped, being sure that he didn't give her the impression he was too nice.

"I had to get ready, too, you know," she told him.

"Here," he said, handing her the flower.

"Thanks. You got this from the row of ugly flowers over there, didn't you?"

"Your point?"

"I don't have one. Ready? Grab onto my hand. You won't know where it is, alright?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but reluctantly did so. They Apparated to Harry and Ginny's front porch.

"Lovely home they have," Draco commented, looking at the huge house. How did they afford this? Draco asked himself.

"Harry has his fortune, plus the money he earns at the Ministry," Hermione stated bitterly, as if sensing he was curious.

"Oh, lucky bloke. Shall we, then?" Hermione nodded and he knocked on the door. Draco couldn't wait to see the look on Harry's face when he saw him at the door.

The door swiftly opened, a young, ginger woman answered. "I'm so glad you're here, Hermione! It's been so long!" she cried, hugging her. Draco noticed Hermione was holding back and she looked a little annoyed.

"It's nice to see you, too, Gin. You remember Draco, don't you?" she said with a false smile.

Ginny looked a bit shocked, but quickly hid her surprise. "Yes, of course. It's...nice to have you here. Please, come in."

Draco took Hermione's hand and went inside. The front hall was as big as Draco's sitting room. He was accustomed to a big house, having lived in a mansion, but he actually preferred a small apartment to this. Draco laughed as Ron glanced over at them, mouth agape. Ron hurried over, grinning despite this. He gave Hermione a giant hug, pushing Draco out of the way.

"I'm so glad you could make it, 'Mione. I was worried you'd never get out of the house!" he said to her.

Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer. Oh, how he loved to burst buttons. Ron glared at him and turned back to Hermione.

"I want to show you something." Turning to Draco, he said, "Excuse us a moment, will you?" Draco nodded grudgingly, watching them go.

"You never told me you were dating Malfoy!" Draco heard Ron hiss to her.

He strolled around and bumped into a snooty looking woman. She glared up at him.

"Watch where you're going! You could have ruined my dress with your wine!"

"Sorry 'bout that," Draco retorted carelessly.

"You're dating Hermione, then?" she asked. What a nosey woman! Draco observed.

"We're friends, if you must know. So, you're marrying Weasel, eh. Aren't there any other men in the world or have you dated them all and he's your last resort?"

"Ronald is a wonderful person! I see why you've never been married. You're a pathetic little creep."

"I may be, but that's not why I haven't got married. See, I have my heart set on one girl, and I'm just waiting for the right moment to sweep her off her feet. Much more romantic, you know."

"I see. Excuse me. I must get out the appetisers." She hurried away, mumbling nonsense to herself.

"Lovely woman," Draco said aloud.

"Not particularly, no. She's a horrible little witch, actually," Hermione said from behind him.

"Ah, that's why I like her. Just a little flair to add to the world. Like me, see," he replied sarcastically.

Harry crept up behind them. "Hermione! It's nice to see you! Glad you could make it! Draco, you, too." Apparently Ginny warned him that Draco was there.

"Likewise," Draco mumbled.

"It's good to see you, too, Harry! How's everything?" Hermione asked.

"It's brilliant, actually. Don't tell anyone, but we're having a BABY!" he whispered, rather loudly for a secret.

Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't care for this stupid bloody family talk. He needed something stronger to drink.

"Eh, Potter. Do you have any firewhiskey about the house? I could use some right about now."

"No. I think dinner is ready, though. Hermione will show you where the dining room is."

No firewhiskey? He thought there'd be a way to make the night worth sticking around for, but now, not so much. He had nothing to keep him going!

"Hermione, we need to go," he ordered, virtually running to the door.

"Draco, why? We've only just got here!" she cried.

"There's no FIREWHISKEY!" he hollered.

"Calm down, Draco. It's just alcohol!" she informed him.

"I need it, or your night will be horribly, horribly ruined! Hermione, I need FIREWHISKEY!" he whined. Draco didn't want to sound like a child, but he really needed this to function.

"Give me a second. I'll go and have Ron get you some. Alright?"

Draco nodded. There was some sense in this woman! "Alright. I'll sit at the table politely as possible chatting away with your little friend, Helena," he said, smirking.

Hermione sighed and went off to find Ron. Draco went into the dining room, where food was being placed. Chicken? Who ate chicken anymore? It was all about the ham! Ham is the new chicken! "Hello, Ginny. Do you need any help?" he asked as civil as he could manage.

"Um, no, that's alright. I've got everything covered. Have you seen Hermione? I need to know how long to put the pie in for..." she answered, blowing a piece of hair out of her face.

"She went to find Ron, who will be getting me some firewhiskey. I believe you put the pie in for about an hour, if that helps...So, when is the baby due?"

"Baby? What baby?" Bloody POTTER!

"Oh, Potter told me you were expecting," he replied nonchalantly.

"Did he now?" she asked, worried. "Harry, babe, could you come here for a moment?"

"I'll be there in a sec, Gin. I just have to fix this last little...oh. There we are!" He came into the room questionably.

"Draco told me that you told him that I was pregnant. Why did you tell him that?" she asked, confused.

Harry glared at Draco, but Draco's face only resembled the grin of someone who had just received a bottle of firewhiskey for his birthday.

"Well, honey, it was supposed to be a surprise, for everyone. The healer sent an owl saying he had made a mistake before. You're pregnant. We're having a baby!" he said excitedly.

Ginny dropped the plates in her hand. "We're having a baby?" she shrieked. "We're having a baby!" She hugged Harry and kissed him. "Draco, we're having a baby!"

"Yes, all very nice and all, but I have to check on the firewhiskey situation. Don't eat any pie without me," he answered unsympathetically.

He hurried out of the kitchen of hell and yelled, "Hermione! Hermione! Her-"

"Stop that shouting!" she demanded, putting a hand over his mouth. "Here's your bloody Firewhiskey!"

"Oh, thank you!" he yelled, hugging her. Hermione started towards the kitchen. "I don't think we want to go in there just yet. They're a little busy."

Hermione was horrified. "WHAT? You mean..."

"Oh, no. They're just having a little happy moment. Give it a few minutes. They'll get over themselves."

They sat on the sofa (thankfully plastic free!) and stared at the fireplace. Helena strode in and glanced over at them. "Just friends my butt," she mumbled, walking away.

Ginny came out, grinning. "Dinner is served!"

"What is she so happy about?" Hermione asked.

"She found out she was pregnant," Draco answered.

"But didn't she already..." She stopped, rolling her eyes. "I don't even want to know, Malfoy."

They went into the dining room where everyone already was sitting down. Draco sat down right away, tossing many a food onto his plate. He hadn't had a real meal in weeks. Usually he'd only eat sweets and junk, too lazy to cook for himself.

"Mmm, this food is delicious," he said, turning to Ginny.

"Thanks, but I can't cook to save my life. This is all Helena's doing," she answered.

Soon enough, everyone finished eating, all of them were ready for pie. It was then that Ginny jumped up, realising that she forgot to shut the oven off (she only used the oven because she thought it was a cool gadget.) It was then the pie was burnt, and it was then everyone said their goodbyes. When dessert was ruined, so was the rest of the evening.

"Thank you for inviting me, Ginny. I had a lovely time."

By this time, Draco was as drunk as a crazy man in the street. "Yes, we had a veeeerry pretty time at your wedding," he slurred.

"I'm sure you did," Hermione told him. "I'll keep in touch, alright, Gin?"

They went on to the walkway and Hermione Disapparated them home. Draco was stumbling around foolishly. "See, the thing about you is that you care too much about me. I'm your hero! You love me with every beat of your beat," he ranted, stumbling up the stairs and falling on his behind.

Hermione sat down next to him. "Draco, stop shouting!"

"Hermy, I love you. I always have and always will. When you broke off...I was...very...and you...so pretty. It broke...heart...to pieces," he slurred again.

"Draco, you're being stupid. Which apartment is yours so I can be sure you don't wake up anyone else?"

"Love isn't...meddle with. Just like that," he continued.

"Draco," she snapped.

"That one," he said, pointing to the entrance of the building.

She pulled Draco up. "Come on. Up you go." They went inside the building, and Hermione looked around.

"Now, which one's yours?"

"I don't feel too well..." Draco vomited on Hermione's shoes. "Oops, sorry."

"Oh, it's alright. I hated these anyways. Come on, you'll just stay at my flat until morning." She brought him inside and into the bathroom.

A little while later, he came out, staggering only a little. Hermione had made up the guest room for him.

"You'll sleep here, alright? I'd better be off to bed. Goodnight."

As she left, Draco cried, "Why is there plastic on my bed?"