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Draco lets out a slight groan as he takes his first sip of tea, relishing the warmth and flavor of the hot drink. The past few weeks had been absolute hell; as the holiday season grew closer to Christmas people were either unbearably cheery, or as pleasant as a pickled prune smothered in mayonnaise.

Of course, it's not as though Draco has anything to be particularly happy about this year. On the flip side, he also doesn't have anything as daunting as what went on sixth year coming up either. Thank Merlin for small miracles.

A shrill ring reverberates around the small kitchen, nearly startling Draco off his chair, and a few seconds of furtive searching later has the blonde staring disdainfully at his ringing phone. Honestly, couldn't people let Draco finish his morning tea before they chose to bother him?

"Draco Malfoy speaking."

"Draco, mate, just who I wanted to speak to!" Louis, for his part, is seemingly unaffected by the Slytherin's tone. "I was wondering if you'd had a chance to look over the paper I gave you yesterday?"

"Oh, um, yes. Of course. Did you want to discuss it?" Draco responds, praying the answer won't be a yes. While Draco remembers Louis giving him a paper last night, he also has a vague memory of coming home from the pub after a late shift and tossing said paper onto his very cluttered kitchen table.

"No, that's fine. Just be thinking about it, and we'll discuss it when you come in later."

A sigh of relief escapes the blonde, and he agrees to the discussion before hanging up. Draco glares over at his kitchen table, and, after noting the near mountain of papers covering the surface, makes the decision to at least finish his tea before venturing any further.

His tea is gone all too soon, and Draco suddenly wishes he'd made more than usual solely for the excuse of procrastination. The Slytherin approaches the table with an air of trepidation, praying that the paper will be lying on top, and that he won't have to tackle the mess he'd created. Of course, luck had never been Draco's strong suit, and it didn't seem to be on his side today.

After a few minutes of digging with no rate of success, he decides to form another tactic. After all, most of it is trash anyway, and he could easily kill two birds with one stone. Draco pulls out his bin, setting it to the side where he could easily toss unneeded mail, and sets to work sorting through the pile.

He's nearing the end when a brightly covered pamphlet catches his eye, and his heart nearly drops into his stomach. He sorts a few more things, and manages to uncover all the papers from that formidable night. The night that had taken Draco and Hermione's relationship from terrible to slightly awkward.

Draco carefully gathers up everything the doctor had thrust into his hands when he had signed his 'wife' out of the hospital, contemplating whether to toss the lot, or return the items to the very person they were meant to help.

In the end, Draco lets his conscience win the battle, and shrugs on his coat to make the journey across the street. The chill in the air is biting, and the blonde finds himself shoving his hands into his coat pockets only to be met with resistance. Draco pulls the mysterious item from his pocket, and scowls in annoyance as he realizes it's the damn paper Louis had been talking about earlier.

The Slytherin makes his way up Hermione's porch and rings her doorbell, all the while grumbling about all the problems his manager causes him, and all the bullshi-

"Draco?" Hermione's curious tone cuts through his mumbled complaints. "Can I help you?"

"Erm, well, it's more the other way around. Remember the night I took you to those muggle healers?"

The Gryffindor nods, though her eyes still sparkle in confusion.

"Well, I kind of forgot to give you the papers." He says in way of explanation, shoving the papers at her unceremoniously.

The brunette accepts the stack with a smile, "Thank you, would like to come in for a cup of tea?"

Draco shakes his head, and begins to decline the offer on the excuse of needing to get ready for work, but instead finds himself responding with, "That would be nice, thank you."

Hermione's smile widens and she steps aside to let him by, gesturing at a coat rack near the door for the man to hang his coat on.

"I put the kettle on not too long ago, so the tea should be ready soon. You can sit in the living room if you'd like." The Gryffindor says before disappearing into the kitchen, not waiting for Draco's response.

As instructed, Draco ventures into the living room, and takes a seat on the couch. He studies his surroundings, and feels no surprise at the style and colors Hermione had decorated her home in. Her couch is baby blue, and has an end table on either side adorned with lamps and the odd pen, a coffee table separates him from the entertainment center housing the TV, and bookshelves line almost every other space of wall the living room has to offer. All in all, it's a very Hermione Granger style living room, and Draco feels shock well up with the notion that he knows the woman well enough to be unsurprised at her living conditions.

Said woman's entrance redirects the blonde's thoughts to the matter at hand. "I wasn't sure how you take it, so I brought everything I could think of out." Hermione comments as she sets a tea tray down on the coffee table before taking a set beside him on the couch.

"As much as I love mixing drinks, I'm pretty boring when it comes to tea. I either take it with a bit of sugar and some milk or straight." Draco responds, surprised at how comfortable he feels around the fierce brunette.

Hermione quirks an eyebrow in surprise before saying, "I'm the same way. I think it's a habit I picked up at Hogwarts. I took a lot of early classes, and I normally didn't have much time to eat so I just drank my tea pretty much however it came."

Draco nods, saying, "I'm pretty sure I picked up the habit from my father. He always took his tea straight, and, when I used to idolize him, I tried to be like him in every way possible. I may hate my father now, but old habits die hard, right?"

"I suppose." Hermione replies over a sip of tea, "I was always curious about purebloods and their family relations."

As innocent as the comment is, the errant thought hangs in the air awkwardly between the two young wizards.

"I am so sorry, I really didn't think about how that would sound. Forget I said anything." The Gryffindor says in earnest, hoping this wouldn't set their timid friendship back ten steps.

For all his worth, Draco isn't mad. If anything, he's actually a bit touched that the young with sitting next to him cares enough about his feelings to apologize for a careless comment. "That's alright. You know, I am technically a pureblood, so I could probably answer some of your questions about their so called 'society'."

"Really? You wouldn't mind?"

The Slytherin shrugs, saying, "Sure, why not? Save for the two years surrounding the war, my life wasn't that bad. Fire away."

"What was it like growing up?" Hermione questions eagerly.

Draco's brow furrows as he thinks back to his childhood and all the nuances it brought back, "Well, I was an only child, still am as far as I know, and I was pretty spoiled from the day I was born. I know that my parents wanted, needed, to have more kids, but something happened to my mother after she had me that made her unable to have any more children."

The brunette nods sympathetically before asking, "Were your parent's hard on you as a child?"

"My mother wasn't, she let me get away with anything, but my father's a different story. He wasn't so much hard on me as much as he made it clear that I wasn't quite what he wanted in a son. I was never good enough, and he always found a way to remind me of that. I think that's why I tried so hard to be like him." Draco answers honestly, and takes a swig of his tea to hide the frown covering his face.

"I'm sorry." Is Hermione's response, and a gentle squeeze has Draco looking down at his hand. Sometime during the conversation, she had reached out to grasp his hand in comfort. Oddly enough, he found himself welcoming the unfamiliar warmth her hand offered.

Draco shakes his head to clear it, though he doesn't remove his hand from her grasp. "Enough about me, though. What was it like growing up with muggle parents?"

"A bit boring, but I wouldn't trade them for the world." The witch says, a smile gracing her features. "My parents are both dentists, muggle teeth cleaners, and I grew up listening to all the horrors candy can unleash upon your teeth. I'm an only child as well, but I like to think my parents had me and supposed I was so perfect they didn't need another child."

A laugh bubbles up Draco's chest, and Hermione has to admit that it isn't a terrible sound.

"They were great, I really miss them." She finishes, a soft look of sadness crossing her features.

Draco squeezes her hand in support before asking, "Are you not close with your parents anymore?"

"You could say that. Before the war I obliviated their memories of me, and sent them to live in Australia so they would be safe from any one that might come after them in search of me. I tracked them down not too long after the war officially ended, but I was unable to restore their memories. To this day, they still don't know they have a daughter."

A tear tracks its way down Hermione's cheek, and Draco feels the sudden urge to wipe it away. Thankfully, Hermione's own hand does the trick, saving him the embarrassment of performing the action himself.

"Well, I'm sure you've still got Potter and Weasly, so you at least have someone to spend the holidays with." Draco says in a valiant effort to cheer her up.

A deep frown crosses Hermione's face as she says, "Not really, we had a falling out a few years ago, and I've been on my own ever since."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had no idea." Is Draco's awkward response, and he's torn between asking further or changing the subject.

It's Hermione's turn to shrug, "It's ok, it's not your fault. Besides, I'm just doing what I do every year for Christmas. I'm going to watch sappy holiday movies, and drink wine before ordering myself some overpriced gift I definitely don't need."

"That actually sounds great." He responds, thinking of how he'll most likely spend his Christmas drinking and ignoring the rest of the world.

Hermione stares at the Slytherin for a long moment with a look that Draco can't quite place in her eyes, and he'd be lying if he said being captured in her gaze like this was anything close to unpleasant.

"Would you like to join me? For Christmas, I mean." She questions, voice breaking the spell her eyes had put him under a moment ago.

The blonde haired man thinks for a moment before smiling and responding with, "I would love to."

Hermione smiles at Draco, genuinely happy at the prospect of his company, and gives his hand another squeeze before excusing herself to clean up the now finished tea. Draco is simply surprised at how much honestly was in his response; as there's truly nothing he'd love more than to spend Christmas with the one and only Hermione Granger.

Maybe luck is on his side today.

Well, that's it. This chapter is a bit longer than the others, but I needed it for the development of their relationship.

I don't want them to go too fast, but I also don't want it to take a million years, so I hope the timing's ok.

See you next time!

P.S. They can live on the same street because Draco is renting the house (that's outside of the city) for less than his old apartment (that was inside the city) I thought I put this detail in Draco's debut chapter, but I might have left it out in the editing process so sorry for the confusion.

Let me know if you guys have any other questions!