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“Not in a very festive mood, are we?”
Hermione looked up from the dozens of pieces of parchment on her desk. Harry stood in the doorway of her office with a half-smile, his shoulder propped against the frame. “Festive?”
He looked around her dark space, only one lamp on in the corner. “You do realize it’s almost Christmas, right? Not even a tree in here?”
She rolled her eyes and got up, smiling nonetheless because she hadn’t seen her friend in weeks. He’d been traveling with Ron and Ginny, recruiting players for the upcoming Quidditch season.
“I forgot,” Hermione said simply, giving him a hug. “With all the horrors in the world, twinkle lights or a Christmas tree don’t seem so important.”
“That’s what makes them so important,” Harry returned, putting his hands in his pockets.
“You sound like Ginny. How is she by the way?”
He grinned, a man clearly in love. “She decorated the inside of the entire house and then moved onto the outside before I left. No joke.”
“I’m happy for you.” She opened her mouth to ask about Ron because, even though their relationship had ended, she still cared for him.
Harry nodded before she could find the words. “He’s good. He had a blast going back to Hogwarts.”
“I bet. I saw the article about him and Ginny in the paper. First siblings to play professional Quidditch at the same time and on the same team in decades.” She was happy for him–for all of them. Despite the bumpy road they’d all taken to get where they were, it seemed like they’d all ended up right where they were supposed to be.
She was in the Ministry of Magic with Harry, which suited them both. What more could she ask for? Maybe love like Harry had, but who was ever really that lucky?
“Put up some lights or a tree,” Harry suggested.
She shook her head. “It’s too late.”
“Then do something to get yourself into the holiday spirit.”
“Like what?”
He looked around, searching for inspiration, then shrugged. “Do something nice for the next person you see. Doesn’t matter what, just something nice.”
She grinned. “I really like your sweater.”
“Ha ha. Not me, someone else. Anyone else.”
“I’m not quite sure what makes you think you can come in here and make up rules you expect me to follow.” She gestured to her desk. “Especially when I have so much work to do.”
Harry laughed. “If not for me, you’d never stop working. Take a break, grab some coffee, and get into the holiday spirit. And don’t forget we’re having dinner at 6:00 tomorrow.”
“I won’t. I’m bringing the pie, remember? Can’t have Christmas dinner without pie.”
“Technically you can, because it’s Christmas dinner, not dessert, which is generally when the pie comes out–”
“Okay, time for you to go,” Hermione said, pushing him out the door. “You’d better get home before Ginny starts decorating the cat.”
He nodded seriously. “You’re right. I should go. See you tomorrow.”
Hermione watched him walk down the hallway, then went back into the office. It was dark, and kind of depressing if she was honest. Not only that, most people had taken the week off so this entire wing of the Ministry was empty.
Coffee sounded good. Good enough that she could take a quick break before she finished up the last of what she needed to do.
She grabbed her bag and walked the quiet halls of the Ministry. It had been updated over the years, with new improvements to build morale, to match the shifting of their society. Fortunately, that meant a new coffee shop on the main floor.
When she walked inside, Christmas music played quietly in the background but no one else was in the shop except for employees.
“Happy Christmas,” one chimed above the music. She had a string of Christmas lights around her neck that flashed on and off.
Hermione smiled at her. “Just a cup of tea, please.”
The employee grinned and punched buttons into her register like it was the happiest day she’d ever experienced. Hermione recalled her conversation with Harry and couldn’t ignore the small flicker of guilt she felt. So…yeah, she could be a little more cheerful. A little less Scrooge-like.
She heard the chime of the door behind her as another patron came into the shop. At least she wasn’t the only one working on Christmas Eve.
Do something nice for the next person you see, Harry’s voice echoed in her head.
When the barista gave her the total, Hermione gestured behind her. “I’d also like to pay for whatever they’re getting.”
She flashed a quick smile over her shoulder, then froze when she saw who it was. Draco Malfoy.
His eyebrows lifted and he gave an amused smile, one she noted brought out a small dimple in his cheek she’d never noticed before. “You can take it back and I won’t hold it against you,” he said. “I promise.”
Dammit. She turned back to the barista, flustered, and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Whatever he’s having, too.”
The barista smiled, the lights from her festive necklace illuminating her face in a whirl of colors. “Absolutely!”
Without making further eye contact, Hermione left a generous tip because it was the least she could do to prove she was in the holiday spirit and carried her tea to a table in the corner where she could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. A few more minutes outside her office wouldn’t hurt.
She pulled a piece of parchment from her bag but didn’t have a chance to open it before she heard footsteps approaching her table.
“It’s a good thing I’m not sensitive to flashing lights,” Draco said.
Hermione’s mouth opened but nothing came out.
He gestured to the barista. “Because of the necklace…” He dropped his chin, looking as embarrassed as she felt. “It’s cheerful.”
Hermione snorted, then frowned. She wasn’t supposed to find Draco amusing. She was supposed to hold an eternal grudge, which she found difficult to do because he barely resembled that spoiled boy she knew from Hogwarts who thought he was entitled to minions and thought the wizard world should only exist for purebloods.
In fact, he’d done some pretty humane and decent things since then, including dating a nice wizard who Hermione personally knew couldn’t care less whether someone was half-blood, pure-blood, muggle-born, or squib.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Draco said. “That was nice of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He stood there for a moment longer, like he was debating something. Then he smiled. “Mind if I sit?”
“Here? At this table?” she blurted.
He laughed. “That was the idea. If you’re busy, though–”
“No.” She shoved the parchment back into her bag. “It’s fine. Sit.”
He slid smoothly into his seat, giving her another smile. “I think we’re the only two working on Christmas Eve.”
“Looks like. I was ordered to get some coffee and act like it’s Christmas instead of one of the busiest times of the year.”
“I hear you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you just went on holiday.”
Surprise flickered in his gaze. “How do you know that?”
She bit her cheek. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she usually saw him at the same time every morning striding across the lobby, and for the last two weeks, she hadn’t. She’d mentioned it offhand and heard he’d been on holiday with his girlfriend.
“I heard it somewhere,” she mumbled.
“Right.” He shrugged. “I had some business with Astoria’s dad.”
“Of course. How is your girlfriend?” she blurted, then winced. She knew far too much about Draco’s personal life–but it wasn’t her fault. She was the eyes and ears of the place. She knew too much about everyone’s personal lives, mostly because she liked to listen rather than talk. Because she was observant, and it had served her well.
Draco leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hand on his jaw, looking almost sheepish. “She isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just friends… It’s better that way. We actually ran into Ron and Ginny at Hogwarts and she asked for an introduction.” He gave a smile that seemed completely genuine. “Ron’s pretty popular with the ladies.”
Hermione snorted again, then covered her mouth. It was entirely true, but she still couldn’t reconcile the image she had of Ron as a goofy and somewhat reckless teenager who didn’t have much direction except for his love of Quidditch with a heartthrob.
“Tell me how you really feel,” Draco murmured, his eyes locking on hers.
“I’m happy for him,” Hermoine said, contrite. “Really.”
“Me too.”
She frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
To her surprise, he only laughed. “That’s okay. I’d probably feel the same if I were you.”
Her frown deepened. What was he doing? It felt like a trick. But even Harry had changed his mind about Draco and told her he wasn’t the person he used to be. In fact, she was the only one who still seemed to think so. If Harry could be friends with the enemy, maybe he wasn’t much of an enemy anymore.
“It looks like you’re trying to figure out a puzzle,” Draco said. When she didn’t respond, he added, “I guess I’m trying to figure out one too.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
“What?”
“You. You’re my puzzle.” He sipped his coffee then sat back in his seat again. It was like the more uncomfortable she got, the more he seemed in his element. But at the same time, he was bereft of all his previous arrogance. Dammit, he even smelled good, which was really irritating. “You never talk to me when we pass in the office. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
“That’s not true,” she said, defense clear in her tone. “But to be fair, we’re not exactly friendly.”
“We’re not exactly unfrieldly either, though, are we? I mean, I had lunch with Ron Weasley last week. I introduced him to my ex-girlfriend.”
She folded her arms. “That’s Ron. Not me.”
“Precisely.”
“So what’s the puzzle exactly?”
He pointed at her. “You and me.”
Her heart stuttered. You and me. What the hell was that supposed to mean? There was no context in which he should be saying you and me.
“Stay with me here,” he suggested, leaning in slightly.
The slight movement made her heart jump again. His eyes were so blue, piercing, but not cold. Engaging. Her brain was telling her to look away at the same time another part of her was drowning–which wasn’t like her at all.
“You ignore me,” he said, smiling slightly when he saw her open her mouth defensively. “But then you buy me coffee. It’s a puzzle.”
“I was trying to be nice.”
“It was nice. Just unexpected.”
“You’re welcome,” she retorted.
He laughed, and she found it was rich and uninhibited. Like he didn’t care what anyone else thought about him, and she couldn’t help but be charmed by it. “I like this,” he said simply.
“Like what?”
“This. Conversation without rules.” He grimaced. “Sometimes people still talk to me a certain way because they’re worried about what my family might do–or what I might do. And I can’t blame them. But it’s refreshing when I find someone who doesn’t care.” He angled his head. “You’ve always been that way.”
“You used to hate it.”
“I used to react to it because you challenged me.”
She blew out a breath. It was true. The more fuel she gave him the bigger the fire got. “Looks like you’re still reacting to it.”
“So are you. But that isn’t a bad dynamic, in my opinion. Don’t you want someone who challenges you?” The moment the words came out of his mouth, he shook his head, looking properly abashed. “I just meant, isn’t it nice to, you know, have someone to talk to who doesn’t censor themselves?”
She couldn’t get past those words, though. Don’t you want someone who challenges you? He was right, and it irritated her. That was exactly what she wanted and exactly what she found herself fighting against. There was some unwritten rule that said she had to hate Draco for the rest of her life, though she seemed to be the only one who subscribed to that logic.
Even Harry and Ron hung out with Draco–even just socially. Why was she the one still stuck in the past?
“I’m sorry,” she said abruptly. When he looked confused, she lifted her spoon to stir her tea, needing something to do with her hands. “If I ignored you.”
“I understand completely,” he said swiftly and sincerely. “And I wasn’t looking for an apology, really, just hoping that maybe things could change in the future.”
She stopped stirring her tea when he reached out, his fingers barely brushing the back of her hand. Her breath hitched in her chest. “What do you mean?”
“I thought when we see each other in the future, maybe we could stop and say hi. Like friends.”
“We could do that,” she whispered, surprised at how easy it was.
“And then when we’ve established we’re friends, maybe we could…” He smiled, the dimple appearing… “Maybe get coffee here or…wherever.”
“Maybe,” she echoed.
“And this time I’ll pay for your coffee.”
“Seems fair.”
He smiled again. “And if coffee goes okay maybe you’ll let me take you to dinner.”
She looked at his hands, almost wishing he’d reach out again. Almost wishing that it was already that easy between them. If he could move on, maybe she could too.
“Dinner sounds good,” she told him.
And just like that, Draco smiled his enchanting smile and Hermione sat back to drink her tea, forgetting for a while about the work she had to do and instead getting to know the man in front of her instead of the boy she used to know.