Draco Falore

Hermione strode into the Great Hall, her nose in a book. She was carefully studying ancient Christmas decorations, trying to memorize the spell to conjure a frizzy ribbon.

Quietly repeating ‘crispus fascia’ to herself, she lowered the book. She wondered if Harry even remembered they had both promised to help Hagrid decorate the Great Hall for the feast. Most probably, he was still asleep. He had returned very late the previous night. So late, in fact, that she had had trouble waiting up for him. But she was glad she managed it. He had needed her upon his return.

He only had a few superficial bruises, which she very easily treated. In that aspect, he was much better off than usual. In any other aspect, he was much worse.

He was shaking wildly as he stepped through the portrait hole, sweeping her into his arms. Hermione had to work her healing spells blindly, going on intuition and his flinching as she moved her hands over his body. A few minutes later, she noticed he was crying softly into her shoulder.

‘What is it?’ she asked, even more startled than worried. The last and only time she had seen him cry was at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry pulled up his sleeve, making Hermione’s heart skip a bit. For a minute, she thought he was going to flush a Dark Mark at her, like he had done shortly after the previous Christmas.

But the skin of his arm was creamy and clear. Not even a cut to heal on it. Hermione sighed in relief, despite the tears that were still streaming down Harry’s cheeks.

‘It’s exactly one year,’ Harry said. ‘One year since I had my chance to live in a dream world with my parents. One year since I gave that up.’

‘It was only a dream,’ Hermione said. ‘A good one, but a dream nonetheless. This is real. Us. Here.’ She pulled him closer to her, leading his head to rest on her chest.

Harry sniffed and raised his eyes, trying not to move too much from the offered position. ‘I had a chance to get that back tonight. All I had to do was come back here and kill you.’

Hermione shivered, Harry’s words still echoing in her ears, nearly eight hours later. ‘All I had to do was kill you.’ She had already been cursed to death once by a treacherous lover.

Her wand in her hand, she stepped into the Great Hall, ready to storm the first tree with all the spells she had memorized. As she passed through the door, she had to stop short before she walked into a tree. A dozen huge firs filled nearly half the Great Hall - their tops magically never reaching the ceiling. Only a crack of the enchanted ceiling was visible, showing grey and white clouds. Without going outside, Hermione knew that the air would be crisp, and sting her lungs with its chill.

Squaring her shoulders, she strode towards the first tree, her wand magicking a respectable silver star on its top. She was glad this was her last Christmas at Hogwarts. At the rate Hagrid’s trees were growing, by next year, she doubted there would be room for the students in the decorated hall.

‘Crispus fascia rufus, crispus fascia argentum,’ she repeated several times, throwing long red and silver ribbons around the tree. Then, as the work became monotonous, she allowed her thoughts to wander.

It was not only a year since Harry had been given the Dark Mark. It was also a year since she first saw her Draco. Obviously, she had seen more than enough of Draco Malfoy before, but that night, when he held her – that was the first time he appeared as her Draco; the first time he was the boy who had come with her to rescue Harry; the same one she stared at as she closed her eyes on that fatal night less than two months later. His image was engraved into her mind’s eye.

Ribbons kept flowing out of her wand. ‘Crispus fascia viridis’

It began a few hours before he came with her, looking for Harry. Without her knowledge or awareness, he held her in a steadfast embrace, waiting for the effect of the Sleeping Potion in the Punch to wear off. When she woke, there was a strange look in his grey eyes. They were clouded, yet still shone silver – like the moon hiding behind a thin mist.

‘Stella argentums,’ Hermione said, making a small silver star hang on the end of the last ribbon.

She didn’t know it then, but later, she understood what that look had meant. It wasn’t just love. It was pure admiration. Her Draco worshiped the ground at her feet. He’d do anything for her...

He had the same misty brightness in his eyes when he spoke the last words she’d ever heard him say – ‘Avada Kedavra.’

Not really seeing what she was doing behind the veil of her tears, Hermione kept conjuring ribbons and stars, sending them into the vast branches of the Christmas tree.

‘You started without me.’

Hermione smiled at the sound of Harry’s voice, and in an almost invisible motion, wiped off her tears. She nodded, unable to speak with her throat contracted.

‘Interesting choice of colours, these decorations,’ Harry commented. He smiled, but did not sound amused. ‘Green and silver go well with Christmas, but aren’t you over-doing it a bit?’

Hermione looked up at the tree, amazed at her own handiwork. ‘This is...’ she stammered. ‘This is going to be the Slytherin tree. I thought we’d have one for each of the houses, and the rest with more general themes.’

‘Sounds reasonable,’ Harry said, conjuring a shield with a winged snake on it and hanging it two-thirds up the tree.

‘I don’t think the Slytherins are going to like it,’ Hermione said.

‘Why not? It’s their symbol.’

‘Well, for one, this snake is standing on its head.’

‘Picky,’ Harry said, turning the shield with a swing of his wand.

‘Also,’ Hermione continued, ‘it is quite clear that this snake is Nagini, and she’s hardly friendly towards the Slytherins.’

‘Really?’ Harry closed one eye with the palm of his hand and tilted his head to the side. ‘I don’t see the resemblance.’

‘Honestly!’

‘Honestly,’ Harry repeated after her, putting a hand over his heart. He used his other hand to toss a wide crimson ribbon over the next tree.

Hermione moved aside to watch, but instead of setting to work, Harry turned to her, a glint in his eyes.

‘Funny place for mistletoe,’ he said, pointing above her head.

Hermione squinted up just in time to see the mistletoe appear on the branch above her. She paled significantly and extended her hand to stop Harry’s advance, but it was too late. He had already stepped beside her, and stood under the small plant.

Harry scoped her in his arms and put his lips to hers. He was warm and his lips unbelievably soft, as opposed to his firm grip on her. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to be literally carried into the kiss. He still smelt of the snow he had wallowed in hours earlier, mixed with his usual spicy chocolate taste. But there was something else. Maybe it was just the toothpaste he’d used when he woke up, but he had a distinct peppermint flavour. A flavour that used to belong to another boy.

Both of Harry’s hands slid under her shirt, holding the bare skin of her waist. As her feet left the ground, he could no longer move them away, of fear of dropping his lover. Hermione’s fingers did not have to support any of his weight in the air, and she used the advantage to roams his back and chest freely. She felt her way between old and fresh scars, remembering the tears she poured over each and every one of them. Then, she broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. Harry’s pupils were dilated, almost filling the entire green of his irises. Hermione could see her worried face reflecting in them.

‘Get rid of the mistletoe,’ she whispered.

‘Why?’ Harry frowned. ‘It’s nice like this... that you have to kiss me.’

‘This isn’t a game, Harry. You know how dangerous the mistletoe curse is. If people walk under it heedlessly, they’ll end up killing each other. If we had accidentally moved an inch to the side before kissing, we could have found ourselves in a duel to the death by the end of the day.’ Her voice was shaking by the time she was finished.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, holding her tightly to him. He made the mistletoe disappear into the thin air, then pecked her lips one last time, just in case. ‘I didn’t mean to put you through this again.’

Hermione said nothing, although she knew exactly what Harry had meant.

‘You think you and Malfoy accidentally walked under a mistletoe?’ he asked into her hair.

Hermione shook her head.

‘Then why would he try to kill you?’

‘You don’t know that!’ Hermione exclaimed, taking a step back. He really didn’t know that. She never told him. And she never will. She wanted to believe that her Draco was under someone’s influence when he cursed her. Telling people what he did would not help him if he ever came back. She smiled bitterly to herself. Although she didn’t like admitting it even to herself, chances were he was never coming back. His death was all but official, short of a body to bury. She liked to think that he stood up to his manipulator at the end.

‘What did happen that night?’ Harry asked.

‘I can’t remember,’ Hermione gave him her well-rehearsed lie.

‘Do you want to remember?’

Hermione moved closer to him, the same way Crookshanks came to her when he wanted to pull her from her homework. ‘Right now,’ she purred, ‘I want to finish decorating five more unbelievably large Christmas trees. After that, we can go up to the Astronomy Tower, and if you really insist, we can talk.’ She put her lips to his ear and whispered the last few words.

‘The Astronomy Tower, huh?’ Harry smiled as Hermione winked at him.

‘Hmmm... In that case, which tree did you want for Gryffindor?’

Hermione pointed to the one near the teachers’ table, hoping that Harry would find it central enough, but he didn’t seem to care one way or another. He waved his wand slowly in the direction of the tree, getting it completely covered in red and gold decoration.

‘Next?’

‘You really don’t need me for this, do you?’ Hermione could not hide her smile. Harry Potter lived up to everything people whispered about him. ‘Ravenclaw,’ she added, pointing blankly at another tree.

Harry chose the Hufflepuff tree himself and then moved to swiftly cover the remaining trees in a combination of all house colours, leaving out the shields. When that was done, he turned to Hermione and lifted her off the ground, the way one would carry a baby. ‘Next stop, the Astronomy Tower,’ he said.

‘Put me down!’ Hermione said, laughing. ‘You can’t carry me up all these staircases.’

‘Wanna’ bet?’

‘No, I do not want you to be tired when we get there.’

‘Good point,’ Harry said. He lowered her to the floor, but kept one hand on her waist.

‘You think it’ll be empty again?’ Hermione said, walking briskly towards the stairs.

‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Oh? Wait a minute! We weren’t just lucky every evening during the last week. You did something to take care of that.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Oh! That’s wicked. As Head Girl I should give you detention.’

‘I’m not sure,’ Harry said with mock dejection. ‘You can do that only if you catch me.’ And he broke into a run; lingering only a moment longer, to make sure her tiny scurrying steps were following him.