Talk What You Please of Future Spring

He never should have let Blaise talk him into this.

Why Blaise came up with the idea in the first place, he had no idea, and frankly he really didn't want to know. Probably had something to do with that half-blood Ravenclaw he was dating, an attractive boy (not that Draco was gay, no, he was very much straight, to his chagrin on occasion, given how many of his classmates weren't).

Draco was in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and for the first time in his life he was being required to make someone a Christmas present instead of doing the civilized thing and buying a random trinket in an expensive boutique.

If Crabbe or Goyle, or heavens forbid Pansy, should walk in on him with his crochet hook in hand, so help him, he would use it to gouge out Blaise's eyes. But he was almost done with the scarf, and the dragons on the ends had turned out perfectly, if he did say so himself. Which was an excellent thing considering Blaise was due in less than ten minutes. Fine, good enough. He pulled out his wand and made a few small improvements, then finished it off with some tasteful jewel tone wrapping paper.

There was one quick knock at the door to his private room, and Blaise strolled in, cool as could be, a small package in his hand. Excellent timing.

"Good evening, Blaise."

"Draco." A curt nod of his head. That was Blaise for you.

They exchanged packages. Draco let Blaise open his first, and smirked at the confusion on his face. "Blue and silver, Draco? And dragons?"

"I thought Reizend might like it. Any member of the Drache family would."

Blaise cocked his head and looked at the scarf again. "Perhaps you're right. And it will set off my eyes." Draco had double checked and matched the blue to Blaise's eyes, knowing that would be the one thing that would make Blaise actually wear the thing. He may not like to admit that his mother had forced him to learn to crochet at a young age, but he did have some pride in his skill and liked to see his handiwork in use.

Draco now looked at his own present. He tore off the wrapping, making sure to remain casual, though he was more curious than he let on.

"A mirror?"

"It has certain useful qualities. It gives excellent advice on the amount of pomade you should use each morning, it will quiz you on your subjects if you show it your flash cards, and if you ask it to it will show you something that will change your perception of someone."

Draco raised his eyebrow, and asked the mirror to show him something about Professor Snape. His face on its surface went fuzzy, and then an image of Snape appeared. He held an animal in his arms, and was reading poetry as he stroked it.

"'True to his profit and his pride/ He made them weep before he died.' There, kitty, that's Jonathon Swift. Do you like that? Hmm?" The cat jumped out of his arms at the Muggle poetry, scratching him deeply in its flight. Draco could see tears spring to Snape's eyes. The image faded.

"Snape has a pet? Snape reads muggle poetry? Snape reads muggle poetry to his cat?" He was mumbling to himself again. That probably wasn't a good sign.

Blaise was looking at him, somewhat confused. "Are you ready to go down to dinner, Draco?"

"Yes, certainly." He tossed the mirror gently on his bed and they headed off to be fed.

***

While still in the doorway of the Great Hall, Draco found his movement suddenly arrested. For whatever reason, he could not continue walking. It was a disconcerting feeling, and he looked around to see what was causing it.

"Look up, Draco." Blaise drawled from behind him. Oh, great. Magical mistletoe. Which meant he couldn't move until he kissed whoever he was under it with. And that happened to be a quaking Gryffindor, a first year from the looks of her. He huffed to himself in annoyance, and leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Whereupon she promptly fainted, so of course to clear the door he was obliged to revive her and help her out of the doorway. Honestly, didn't those Gryffindors have any self control?

They made it to the Slytherin table unmolested, where Goyle handed him a paper as he sat down. "What's this for, Goyle?"

"A Ravenclaw bloke gave it to me. Told me to tell you... uhhh... 'The hieroglyphics on the page/tiny scribbles of black ink/ saying twice/what was said before'. Dunno what it means."

Ahh, she was up to her old tricks, then. Passing messages through her Arithmancy partner was probably the best she could do, he was thoroughly under her thumb. That meant to divide the figures in half, then to times them by 22, the digit twice, then convert to letters. He'd do it later, alone in his room, with a little help from his wand. For now he settled on shooting her a glance as he looked about the room, making sure no one noticed who he was paying attention to. He then proceeded to finish his meal in peace.

Well, mostly. On his way out of the hall, after wishing his fellow Slytherins a pleasant evening, since he had no intention of seeing any of them for quite some time, he ran into Potter. Of course, that's what would happen. Maybe he could make this short.

"Happy Christmas, Harry." That was sure to throw him off.

"Go play some blood sports with your parents, Slytherin." Potter sneered at him and tried to push his way past, which was halted rather suddenly by Draco's pinning him to the wall by his throat.

"I don't care what you say about me, you little quasi-heroic poser, but you ever say a word about my parents again and I will cut into your chest via a thousand paper cuts from hotel paper, rip your heart out with a log roller and use it to paint my bedroom walls with. Do you understand?"

Potter just blinked at him, and then nodded. Draco let him drop to the ground and left.

***

Draco stood quietly in the snowbound night, waiting for her in their place. She was late. The note had said midnight precisely, and it was now fifteen seconds past. He was looking forward to giving her the Christmas present he had planned, and was curious to see what his would be.

Finally she arrived, bundled warmly in lots of thick robes, which he wasn't really thrilled with but as he was in the same state he wouldn't complain. More skin contact would just make them both freeze, after all. They quickly embraced, and then he stepped back. "Are you ready for your present?"

She grinned. "Of course, darling." He handed her a small package, which she opened eagerly, and then stared at in confusion.

He took it back from her and began to explain. "This is an Ever-meal, love. This particular one is a Christmas dinner. It will never run out and will never go bad, and if you can stand to eat the same thing all the time you never need go hungry as long as you have it. They take a bit of work to make but if you're good at Potions and have the right connections they aren't so bad." He showed her how to work it, and she beamed at him and kissed him in thanks.

"So what do I get?" She just smiled at him and took him over to a spot on the edge of their clearing, and pointed at the ground. He had to stare for a moment to make it out, but finally he saw it. It was a daisy, in bloom, coming out of the snow. His eyes went blurry. Daisies had been his mother's favorite flower, before.... Well, before. "Darling?"

"It's an Eternal Bloom, Draco. It will last forever and always be in bloom. I thought she... you would like that." He glanced at the sky for a moment, and swore he saw a sleigh flit across his vision. Then he looked back at her and put his arms around her.

"Hermione, have I told you recently that I love you?"