Holiday Conversations

Hermione smoothed her robes nervously. She sat in the middle of the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, surrounded by other members of the Order. Harry Potter sat on her right and Ginny Weasley sat on her left. Harry was reading the Daily Prophet and would occasionally take a sip of tea and snort at something he had just read. His presence comforted Hermione. Harry always gave her hope. He had never let her down. Luna sat on Harry's other side where she was busily sketching a picture of...well, Hermoine wasn't sure what the creature was.

Ginny twisted long strands of hair around her fingers and then untwisted them watching them un-spiral silently as stole glances at Ron, who was sitting across the table from Hermione, wearing a deep scowl. Hermione closed her eyes for a long moment, trying to recapture an image of Ron from when they had been at Hogwarts, before he started wearing a constant scowl. He had lost so much. His father and two brothers...gone. But they all had suffered losses...Snape, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye...all gone. War was hell. No, Hermione corrected herself, standing at funerals of people you loved, wondering if you had only done something differently, only been a bit quicker, if you could have saved them -- that was hell. She looked across the table at Ron. That was his hell every minute of every day. Hermione could tell just by the desperate hate in his eyes. He couldn't let go of those who had died.

Hermione turned her head and glanced at Harry. He looked tired and anxious, but not desperate. Was it somehow easier for him? Had he already lost so many people in his life that he just expected it now? That every day that someone he loved didn't die, was a good day?

"He's late. He is always late. Does it on purpose," Ron sneered. "He enjoys making us wait."

No one seated at the table reproached Ron, and Hermione noticed that several people, including Tonks, seemed to agree with Ron's view. Hermione sighed again and looked around the kitchen. Tonks and Lupin were in the process of decorating the entire house for Christmas, but even red velvet bows, mistletoe, and silver bells couldn't make this house jolly.

Draco Malfoy walked into the room at that point, brushing snow off his cloak as he unclasped it and threw it over a chair. "It's snowing again," he said casually even as everyone at the table peered anxiously at him. If Draco noticed, he didn't give any indication. He sunk into his chair and thanked Mrs. Weasley for the steaming tea she had put down in front of him. He then sipped the tea as if he didn't have the care in the world.

Hermione felt the anger rising in her and she curled her hands into fists and cleared her throat loudly while she glared at Draco. Ron was right, she decided.

Draco didn't meet her gaze. Instead he looked at Harry and said, "Voldemort is willing to forgive my past indiscretions," at this Draco's eyes did flicker toward Hermione for a second, but quickly reverted back to Harry's face. "If join him in the cause now."

Harry let out a long breath. "Wonderful. This is just what we've been hoping for," he said.

"I was rather hoping they'd Avada Cedar each other," Ron said dryly, ignoring Hermione's pointed look.

"So sorry to disappoint you, Weasley," Draco said. "The initiation will be very soon. We won't have much time -"

"No," Hermione said, standing, her fists slamming into the table. "Absolutely not."

Ginny placed her hand on Hermione's curled fist, but didn't say anything.

Harry turned toward Hermione, his face wearing a puzzled expression. "This is the perfect opportunity, Hermione. We'll put a tracing spell on Draco and we'll attack Voldemort when he's least expecting it."

Hermione huffed. "How do you know it'll be when he's least expecting it? It could be a trap. He could know -"

Lupin interrupted Hermione. "We've discussed it and we have every reason to believe that both Lucius and Voldemort believe that Draco has become a true believer in Voldemort's cause. Draco has been working on this for the last year and half."

Hermione spun and faced Lupin. "You say that as if I wasn't aware of what Draco has been doing! I know the plan, but the plan we talked about didn't include my husband getting the Dark Mark!"

"Since you left me the plan has changed," Draco said coldly. "Harry and I talked and we changed it. It is the only way. My Father isn't going to reveal enough information to me to be useful unless I'm a Death Eater. And I wasn't sure you still wanted me to be your husband."

Hermione winced, but did meet Draco's icy gaze. "This isn't the place to discuss that."

"Isn't it? It does seem relevant to the discussion at hand. You see," Draco enthused, opening his arms. "Hermione fears that I'm leading all of you into a trap. That I'm not a double agent, but a triple agent and my real loyalty lies with my father and the Dark Lord."

Hermione slammed her hand down on the table again. "That is not true, Draco!" she said, meeting his cold grey eyes with her angry ones.

Draco arched a brow at his estranged wife. "Oh, I do apologize," he said harshly, each word as sharp as a dagger. "I assumed that when a wife freezes in fear when her husband reaches for her and then packs her bloody bags and leaves in the middle of the night because she doesn't 'know who he is' anymore, that it might mean there were some trust issues."

Ron laughed harshly, Ginny groaned and patted Hermione's hand again, and Lupin and Tonks both sighed and stood up. Tonks moved toward her enraged cousin, but he held his hand up, stopping her.

Harry stood up as well. "Okay, we can dis -"

Before he could finish his sentence, Hermione, who had been standing with a frozen expression of silent horror on her face, suddenly burst into tears and fled from the room.

~*~

Hermione ran up the stairs and into the room where she had been living for the past six months. She flopped face down onto the bed and cried into the pillow. An hour later when there was a knock on her door, she was still lying there. The tears had stopped a while ago, but she couldn't find the will to move. "Go away," was her muffled reply to the knocking.

"It's me, Harry," the knocker replied.

Hermione lifted her head and sighed. Of course it was Harry. It wasn't as if Draco would chase after her. Apologize to her, comfort her. No, he had too much pride for that. You are the one that left him; a voice in Hermione's head reminded her. Hermione chose to ignore the voice and sat up, smoothing her robes and her hair before saying, "Come in."

Harry opened the door, walked in and quietly closed it. He sat down on the bed next to Hermione. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Hermione couldn't help but to chuckle. "Why are you sorry?" she asked. "It's not your fault my marriage is in shambles. As my husband just told everyone I care about."

Harry sighed and took Hermione's hand. "It is my fault. You and Draco were happy before. He was the star player for Montrose Magpies. You were working for The Daily Prophet and the Order as well. Then I went and recruited him for the Order. And if that wasn't enough, I came up with the brilliant plan for him to become our new double agent after the loss of Professor Snape. I'm the one who sent him back to his father. It's my fault you don't trust him."

"You didn't recruit him alone, Harry. I helped with that."

"You never wanted him to be a spy. That was my idea. My desperation. My fear talking. And despite what he said tonight, it was my idea for him to go through with the initiation. If I fail to finish Voldemort when we attack, we'll need Draco on the inside."

Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek, followed by Harry's hand wiping it away. "I'm sure he didn't argue. I never wanted him to be a spy, but I did agree to it. But even then I was scared, scared that blood would be thicker than our love, scared his father would turn him, scared that Draco would be tempted. When I accepted the plan...finally...I knew we'd have to lie publicly, pretend to divorce, but I never imagined how hard it would be to read about it in the paper everyday. To see the smirks in my co-workers' eyes. To have to meet my husband at a secret flat."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I should have never -"

Hermione shook her head. "It wasn't your fault. I let my fears and my insecurities eat away at my faith in Draco...finally one night we had just finished eating and we were clearing the table..." Hermione's voice faltered for a moment before she continued. "We were clearing the table, and as we were walking into the kitchen Draco put his hand on my waist and started to pull me backwards into to his embrace. And I screamed, jumped, and dropped the plates I was holding."

Hermione looked up at Harry. "I was scared of my own husband. And he knew it."

"What did he say?" Harry asked, wiping another tear off Hermione's cheek.

Hermione sniffed back her tears. "He said all the things he should have said...all the things he would have said if he had turned...then he just stopped talking. He knew I didn't believe him. He pulled out my suitcase and opened it, never saying one word more to me. He just stood by the fireplace, smoking a cigarette and drinking a glass of red wine while I packed. He never tried to stop me. He didn't get angry. He just watched as if it..." Hermione's voice cracked and she stifled a sob. "As if it meant nothing to him."

Harry sighed heavily and shook his head. "Trust me, Hermione it means something to him. I know. I've talked to him a lot in the last few months. Since you left the flat, he's not been the same. He hardly even bothers to make snide remarks about Ron anymore. He's always been a bit moody, but never quiet. He's quiet now. He's not going to betray us, Hermione. The only reason he agreed to do this was for you. That is all he ever said to me in all the conversations we had about his spying - 'I'm doing this for Hermione.'"

"But what if he doesn't care about me anymore, Harry? What if it's just an act now?"

"I don't believe it is. I don't know him as well as you do, which is a good thing because Luna would kill me otherwise, but we are close...we may not be friends, but we're not enemies. I trust him. And not just because I'm desperate for this war to be over, but because I've seen him with you. Even tonight...the only reason he said anything at the table was because he is hurting. That is not an act. Draco is good. He's perfect spy material, actually, but you're the only person in his life that he has ever loved, that has ever loved him. When he realized you had stopped trusting him, he probably didn't know what to do, because without you he was lost. I know if Luna left me, I would be devastated. I know you think she's loopy, but she grounds me. Without her I couldn't make sense of the world."

"I don't think Luna is loopy...I just think she's different," Hermione said. "As for Draco...I hope you're right."

"I think you should talk to him."

"Is he still here?" Hermione asked, automatically patting her hair down.

"Yes, he's downstairs in the sitting room, helping Tonks decorate the Christmas tree."

Hermione raised a brow. "Draco is decorating a Christmas tree?"

"Well, not so much decorating it as critiquing all the ornaments, bastardizing all the Christmas carols and basically annoying everyone immensely."

Hermione couldn't resist a smile. "Now that sounds like the husband I know and love."

~*~

Hermione walked into the sitting room just as Draco was singing the end of a very adult version of "Deck the Halls". Tonks was standing in front of him, her wand pointed at his nose. "Do you want to look like Rudolph?" she asked him.

"Not my face," Draco implored, covering his nose. "I'll behave."

"Doubtful," his cousin said, but she lowered her wand and handed him a box of Christmas trimmings. "Everyone decorates. And I know you've always been proud of your rhyming skills, but you are not allowed to carol in this house. Ever. Again."

"I'll help decorate," Hermione said.

Everyone turned and stared at Hermione. Then everyone but Draco found a very good reason to leave the room.

As she was leaving the room, Tonks leaned into Hermione and whispered, "If he gives you any trouble, just threaten to bring Buckbeak down."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'll remember that."

After the room was empty, Draco put down the box of Christmas decorations and picked up his wine glass, taking a sip, leaning on the mantle of the fireplace next to a brightly lit Christmas tree. He hadn't looked at Hermione since she had entered the room and didn't now. He stared silently at the Christmas tree.

Hermione sighed. Draco was not traditionally handsome, but he was striking. His features were too angular, his nose too narrow, his lips too petulant, but some how it created a remarkable face. "I certainly know how to clear a room, don't I?" Hermione finally said.

"Yes, you do," Draco answered, still studying the Christmas tree. "I was sure my use of the words 'twat' and 'tits' in Christmas carols would work, but alas, I was wrong."

Hermione moved closer to Draco. "We need to talk," she said, crossing her arms.

A smile flickered across Draco's face. "Do we? I'm not going to apologize for yelling at you. If you want a divorce -"

"I don't want a divorce," Hermione said quickly. "Draco...I know I've hurt you...but I was, I am, confused. I just needed space to figure things out." She didn't say the fact that Harry trusted Draco made her feel more trusting. That would not be reassuring to Draco.

Draco met Hermione's gaze and Hermione winced at the cold anger in his eyes. "Draco -" she started.

"Need to figure out if I'm a traitor? If I'm leading the Order to their doom? Yes, I am. It's all been act, Granger. All these fucking years. Just a fucking act. Our wedding? A lie. I never loved you."

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. Why couldn't he ever fight fair? "I'm trying to talk to you!"

"I gave up everything for you, Granger," Draco said in a harsh whisper as he slammed his empty wine glass against the fireplace.

Hermione watched the glass shatter and fly. Broken. Just like her marriage. She knew she could fix the wine glass with a simple spell; she didn't have a spell to fix her marriage though. She was torn between anger and sorrow, but decided to use calm logic instead. "And this is your chance to get it all back," she said matter-of-factly, meeting Draco's glower squarely with her own steady determination. She knew it was the only way to counter his silent rage. It was the only thing that had ever worked. "Everything you gave up for me is being offered back to you. Tell me what you're going to do."

The anger dissipated from Draco's eyes and he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "You have to ask?" he said, his hurt evident in his tone.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I have to ask. If you want to hate me for that..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she found herself ringing her hands nervously and holding back tears.

Draco sighed and shook his head. He walked over to a red sofa and slumped down. "I could never hate you, Granger. I've found myself wishing I could over the last few months. I thought somehow it would make it easier. I told Harry as much and he told me 'hate never makes anything easier.' I hate it when he talks like that. He's so annoying sometimes. So bloody stoic and heroic."

Hermione moved to the sofa and curled up in the corner, facing Draco. "So Harry and you have grown closer?" she asked, thinking it would be best if she let Draco talk about what he needed to talk about. He was still here. He wasn't glowering at her. He was actually talking instead of puffing on a cigarette. She wasn't going to stop him.

"Harry is like the brother I never wanted," Draco said, looking up at Hermione. "How did we get here?"

"Well, I Apparated," Hermione said.

Draco closed his eyes and groaned. "It's not bad enough you packed your bags and left me, but to make me endure lame attempts of Gryffindor wit, that's just cruel, Granger."

"It's technically Granger-Malfoy now."

Draco smiled. "Ah, yes, one of the many compromises of our agreement to wed. That took more negotiations than most trade treaties."

Hermione grinned at the memory. "Yes, and you get to name our firstborn."

"Ah, yes, little Eridanus or Casseopia."

"And you wonder why I keep putting off having a baby."

Draco's smile faded and he tentatively pushed a strand of Hermione's hair back. "I always knew it was because of the war. That's the reason why this is so important. We have to end this war. By what ever means necessary. It's the only reason I agree to Harry's harebrained plan. Gryffindors may be courageous, but they wouldn't have to be so bloody brave if they could plan their way out of broom cupboard."

Hermione leaned her face into her husband's hand. "I know you helped Harry come up with the plan, Draco. I hope...If they suspect you're a spy..."

"I fooled you, didn't I?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked up at Draco. "Draco...I'm sorry, but..."

"Shhh," Draco said, placing his finger across Hermione's lips. "I gave you reason to doubt me. I was conflicted. Leading a double life was much harder than I thought it would be. I know I didn't do a very good job of turning off the "old" Draco when I was with you. But, Hermione, I'm going to answer your question. I am not going to betray the Order. All I want is you. That is all I've wanted for a very long time. It's always been about you, about us. I just want us to be able to be together, to have a family. That's what I need. That's what I want."

Hermione felt her hot tears rolling down her cheeks and felt Draco's cool hand tenderly wipe them away. "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry I let us come to this point."

Draco leaned forward and gingerly kissed Hermione's cheek. "It was my fault as well. I was too arrogant. I saw the doubt in your eyes and I ignored it until it was too late to talk about it. Of course, you probably are slightly more at blame than I am. You did leave me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco. "This isn't the time for Slytherin wit, Malfoy," she said with a smile.

"I'm not joking," Draco said, though his eyes said otherwise. "It was more your fault than mine."

"At least I didn't reveal our marital troubles in front of the entire Order," Hermione said, poking Draco in the chest. "Do you know how humiliating that was?"

"Oh, yes and it was not humiliating for me to have to meet with Harry after you had left me? He looked at me with pity in his eyes. Potter. Feeling sorry for me. The bloody sodding orphan felt sorry for me! He hugged me. I told him he ever did that again, I'd hex his arms off."

Hermione stared blankly at Draco for a moment after his outburst and then her face began twitching as she tried desperately not to laugh. She failed to hold back the laughter and soon was bent over trying to stifle her peals of laughter as she had been trying to stifle her tears a few minutes earlier.

"Oh, no!" Draco exclaimed, covering his hand over his wife's mouth. "You don't get to laugh at me!"

Hermione, still laughing, tried to pull away from Draco and soon they were wrestling around on the sofa and then they rolled off the sofa onto the floor. Draco was laughing as he pinned Hermione down to the floor. "Laughing at your broken-hearted husband. You are a cruel wench, woman."

"Wench? Woman?" Hermione turned her head from side to side. "Who are you speaking to?"

"My wife," Draco said as he kissed Hermione. Hermione returned the kiss and it continued for a while until Draco broke it off. "I've missed you so much."

Hermione smiled. "I missed you too."

Draco's lips found Hermione's again and they began kissing passionately as he unpinned her and moved his hand down her side and then up inside her jumper. Hermione squirmed beneath him and broke her mouth away from his. "Draco," she said breathlessly. "We can't do that here."

"Why not?" he asked, as he started to push her jumper and camisole up.

"Someone could walk in!" Hermione exclaimed even as Draco unhooked her bra and bent his head to kiss her exposed breasts. Hermione moaned softly, she had almost forgotten how very easy it was for Draco to arouse her. His tongue traced a circle around her nipple then he gently nipped at it as his hand massaged her other breast. She bit her lip and let a long breath out. "Draco, what if Tonks comes in to make sure we haven't killed each other?"

Draco lifted his face. "She'll be very pleased to find us alive then, won't she?" he smirked as he slid a hand under the hem of Hermione's skirt.

"Yes, that's a good point, but I still think we should go upstairs to my bedroom," Hermione said even as her body ignored her and her legs opened for Draco's touch.

"Hmmm," Draco murmured as he ran his hand along Hermione's bare thigh and then traced a finger against her cotton knickers. "We could do that, I suppose."

Hermione shuddered as Draco's fingers stroked her knickers. "Um, well, everyone but Lupin and Tonks will have left by now, and they would probably knock first..." Hermione said a bit breathlessly as she started to unbutton Draco's shirt. Deciding that the unbuttoning process was taking too long, she just tugged the shirt open, sending buttons flying all over the floor. "Sorry," she said unapologetically, as she ran her hands across Draco's lean, chiselled chest. She teased his nipples hard and then followed the narrow strip of hair down his navel to the waistband of his trousers. She hooked a finger under the waistband as she ran her other hand over his hardness.

Draco moaned, shrugging the shirt off and whispered, "I've always hated this shirt and if my trousers are in the way, feel free to rip them as well."

Hermione obliged and they made love frantically, both of them desperate for the other. He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard and burying his face in her hair. She gently caressed his back and sighed. She loved his weight on top of her, she loved him inside of her...she smiled to herself...she loved him.

Draco lifted his head and kissed his wife gently. "I love you, Hermione Granger-Malfoy," he said.

Hermione pushed his hair out of his face and smiled up at him. "You better. And you better be very careful as well. Because nothing Voldemort or your Father can do to you can compare to what I will do if anything happens to you."

"Don't worry, love. I'm not going to let anything happen," Draco said with a grin. He kissed Hermione's nose and then slid off her. "I am not going to let you down."

Hermione moved to her knees and pulled down her skirt that was bunched around her waist. "Draco, I'm so sorry about not trusting you. I'm just so scared of...losing...losing more friends, losing the war, losing our love. I was so scared that you wouldn't make the same decision you did when you were eighteen. That you would choose your family over me," she spoke softly, focusing on fixing her clothes and not meeting Draco's eyes. When she had finished dressing she moved to the couch again. "I know it is my own insecurities that made feel that you regretted the choice you made."

Draco, who had dressed while Hermione spoke, sat down next to her on the couch. He tenderly pushed her hair back and lifted her chin, turning her face to his. "Hermione, I have never regretted choosing you over my family. I'm sorry I didn't say anything when I first noticed the doubt in your eyes. I just hoped we could hold on until the war was over and then somehow everything would be magically fixed. I acted like the same arrogant arse that you knew at Hogwarts."

Hermione laid her head on Draco's shoulder. "Can you stay tonight?"

"Yes, but after tonight...I think it would be best if we didn't see each other until it was over."

Hermione lifted her head and met Draco's gaze. "Are you saying that to punish me for having left?"

"No, love, I'm not," Draco said earnestly. "I want to make sure you're safe. I don't want you at the flat if something goes wrong. I want you here, where you'll be safe. It won't be long now. It'll be over soon."

"Before the New Year?"

Draco nodded. "I think so. Would I miss our anniversary?"

"You better not," Hermione said. "Or no gift for you." She tried for a light-hearted tone, but failed.

Draco kissed Hermione. "All I want as a gift is for you to believe in me."

Hermione smiled. "That's the least expensive thing you have ever asked for."

Draco lifted a brow. "Hardly, love. It is priceless."

Their lips met again and when they parted Draco said, "Do not fear the final battle. I always choose the winning side."

Hermione arched a questioning brow, but wore a crooked grin.

"The Order," Draco said. "I want the Order to win."

"I know you do," Hermione said, kissing him. "Shall we go to bed?"

"Yes, let us go to bed, but if you think I'm going to let you sleep, you are so very wrong."

Hermione waggled her eyebrows. "I'd much rather have you than sleep."

"Now that is what I like to hear," Draco drawled.

~*~

Hermione rolled over in bed, reaching for Draco, only to find cold, empty sheets there. Her eyes snapped open. Gone. She was not surprised, disappointed, but not surprised. Draco hated goodbyes. He knew she would cry or protest the plan or both simultaneously. She tried to be angry at him, but the memory of falling asleep in his arms was too fresh in her mind and she couldn't blame him for leaving without waking her up.

She sighed softly and sat up. The room was cold and she reached for her robe and found a piece of folded parchment. She opened the note:

Believe

"I do believe," she whispered softly her eyes fixated on Draco's perfect handwriting. "I believe."

THE END