Truth or Dare

Chapter 8: Christmas

Holidays passed uneventfully. Blaise began coming downstairs more often and even shared a joke with Mr. and Mrs. Granger at the magical community's expense after Mr. Granger read an article in the Daily Prophet.

But come Christmas, Blaise seemed to really show interest in Muggle traditions that were so like the ones she recognized, plus some Granger trademark traditions from the lunatic fringe.

For instance, while they'd trim the fake tree--Mr. Granger was allergic to the real ones--they'd listen not only to "Silent Night" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" but "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer." They'd bite the heads off freshly baked gingerbread men, and whichever ones they bit, they put the rest of the body into their own personal bowl, and no one would be allowed to eat those cookies--if they wanted to, that is.

The night before Christmas, Blaise let everyone crowd into her room to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" with a giant bowl of popcorn that could have coupled as a cauldron. Hermione whispered to Blaise while George Bailey was shaking Clarence that the popcorn and gingerbread and cake was a treat; usually the most sugar Hermione had in that house was an apple.

After Hermione's parents had left and Hermione had prepared for bed, taking out her Night-Before-Christmas stuffed reindeer she'd slept with on the 24th of December since she was born, Blaise came into the room, bringing with her all her magazines.

"I know this is probably a bad time," Blaise whispered, "but I've looked at all of them, and I've marked the pages I think you should look at."

Hermione looked incredulously at this incomprehensible Slytherin. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

"I don't want those. I won't learn anything I need to know, not really. I... appreciate your help, but you really have helped enough, Blaise," Hermione explained. "Honestly." And Hermione knew she was grateful for Blaise's substantial aid, but she could not accept that sort of help from a person who apparently led more and more people into an illicit bed for money.

Blaise appeared undecided on just how to react. Then she set the magazines down next to the bathroom door.

"I'll just leave them here, Hermione," Blaise said. "Happy Christmas."

Hermione smiled as Blaise shut the light off, and she hugged her reindeer against the memory of what she would have to do. It was Christmas. Time to forget about it.

She slept easily.

~888~

While Harry and Ron played the harpsichord, Blaise announced the next two contestant pairs for a reality TV show called "Who Wants to Date a Slytherin?"

Pansy and Draco came out first, their mouths consuming each other. At first it seemed like they were kissing, but Hermione soon saw that they were really victims of the Lip-Locker Curse.

Pansy was screaming, but they both fell off the stage. Hermione ran forward to see if they were unhurt. But apparently someone had also jinxed their clothes off, and they were quite involved in an in-depth study of one another's anatomy.

Hermione could feel a twinge of something in her stomach, not nausea. Suddenly, she could feel Professor Snape's hands on her own bare shoulders.

"I taught them everything they know," he said proudly.

And then his hands were all over her, stroking her breasts and belly and between her legs, and she had never wanted anything so badly as to fall onto the bed that was beside them now and wrap her legs around him and...

~888~

... clench! she thought as she woke from the culmination of pleasure she had never experienced before. Clench.

She sat up, moaning slightly at the memory of the dream hands

clench

and lips

clench

and tongue

clench

and slowly the feeling faded. Breathless, Hermione fell back against her pillow and retrieved her reindeer.

Almost as if nothing had happened, Hermione fell back to sleep.

~888~

When she next woke up, Hermione knew something had happened during the night, but she could not remember a thing, not even any part of the dreams.

"Happy Christmas!" cried Blaise from her door. She had apparently taken it upon herself to cruelly wake everyone with a pot and spoon from the kitchen.

Hermione gingerly fingered the sleep out of her eyes, then grabbed her warm, woolly bathrobe from its precarious position on the back of a chair. Hermione was also mindful to bring both her reindeer and everyone's gifts with her.

There were small piles for everyone. A few owls hung around to recover both from the snowy flight there and for going back. There was even a pile for Blaise.

Because she was a guest, she was allowed to open her presents first. She had received some gifts from her parents via owl: a new set of fine silver scales, a whole box of beauty supplies, and from her sisters, a bottle of carnelian powder. She laughed when she read Hermione's note that accompanied her gift.

"Especially since they do use the girls' dorm," Blaise confided.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger had even given her a custom-made T-shirt that read: Survivor of the Muggle World. Blaise cracked up again, but shared a look with Hermione that made her know that Blaise was not going to wear the shirt particularly often.

Blaise had heeded what Hermione had told her of Mr. and Mrs. Granger's gift preference, and they received not just two boxes of Toothflossing Stringmints, but four from the both of them.
While she watched Crookshanks stalk all the wrapping paper, Hermione opened her own gifts: a beautiful new red and gold shawl wrapped around a box of ginger spice cake from Mrs. Weasley, a set of navy blue dress robes studded with silver in the shape of a curling and writhing dragon from her parents--which made her inquire how they had gotten it. Apparently, they had taken an order from the Daily Prophet advertisements. Even Blaise was gazing on it in envy. From Ron she received three sets of empty books and new quills--For any sort of use. Maybe for university theory coursework. Hope Zabini's not giving you too much trouble-- and from Harry she received a small moving painting of a ginger, bandy-legged cat nose to nose with a benevolent lion. As Hermione watched, the cat that looked like Crookshanks curled up against the lion's tawny belly and stared at her haughtily--Thought you might like it. It was hanging in the Hogsmeade book shop. I was surprised I even spotted it, you know how crowded that shop is. When I asked the owner about it, he said I could buy it; he needed more book space anyhow. It just struck me as something you'd appreciate.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at Hermione but said nothing.

"Go get dressed now while I make breakfast. Excuse me... lunch," Mrs. Granger corrected herself.

"We always have an egg casserole on Christmas Day," Hermione informed as she and Blaise went up the stairs.

Blaise was not paying attention. "Your gift was more appropriate than you know. They use the girls' dorm when they want some, and it gets loud when they both climax."

"Can they do that?" Hermione asked, distinctly aware she had been given more information than she needed. "I thought there was a charm that prevented boys from coming to girls' dorms."

"Used to be," Blaise said. She rolled her eyes. "Twenty years ago. And Professor Snape never really saw a need to reimplement the charm. After all, no one complained. I was tempted to, though. But now, thanks to you, I can have a good night's sleep. Not to mention I can use them in Binns' class."

"That's not what I intended..." Hermione said, smiling. But her good mood was suddenly effaced at the appearance of a new owl that tossed her a package before immediately exiting the premises.
It was a perfect sphere wrapped in plain brown parchment. On the outside was a semi-familiar script.

Thought it would inspire you. Draco Malfoy

"Don't open it," Blaise said abruptly. "I don't know what it is, but it can't be good."

Hermione hesitated. "Well..." she ventured. "He won't kill me; he wants me to sleep with Professor Snape, and he shouldn't curse me; I'm already cursed."

She knew there was a flaw in her logic, but she could not put her finger on it, so she tore off the wrapping and let the 'gift' lay in her hand.

It was slightly smaller than her palm, cool, clear, crimson marble that reflected her face in its sheen. But her image became independent as it moved away from the edge of the ball. A male figure came to meet her, and they embraced in one swift, fluid motion. The male bent over Hermione's reflective self, bringing her to the ball's floor, and Hermione recognized the oil slick of hair and the prominent nose as the images rolled on the floor.

Hermione dropped the ball in shock. Had it been Muggle-manufactured, the stone would have shattered. Instead, the marble bounced once, then lay still, revealing Hermione's image running her tongue along Snape's shoulder.

Blaise looked on the scene playing itself out and called Draco a very nasty name indeed. "That's low and as degrading to Professor Snape as to you. Though I must say Snape has a nice arse."

Hermione giggled shrilly, then gasped as the images tensed for one last moment

clench

and relaxed against one another. Then they stood and started again, this time doing something completely different.

"I don't reckon I've ever seen anyone do it like that before," Blaise began before Hermione picked up the ball and, repressing the urge to throw it through a window, thrust it into an old, stretched sock.

Hermione threatened Blaise that if she even mentioned the ball again, she would find herself thinking she ought to root herself and eat fertilizer.

~888~

Goodbyes between Blaise and Mr. and Mrs. Granger were surprisingly sincere. Blaise even (emptily) promised to write them now and then.

As they passed through the barrier at Platform 9 3/4, Blaise said almost wistfully, "That wasn't half bad, Hermione."

"I'm sure my parents are thinking the same thing. I wrote them a letter preceding our visit warning them of what they might expect. But you did well, Blaise, and well, thank you for. . . you know, helping me. Just don't take me through Erotica Alley any time soon."

"Deal," grinned Blaise. "And thank you."

Blaise offered an open hand. Hermione took it, and they shook.