Disclaimer & A/N: As always, I bow down to JKR who owns the wizarding world that we all get to play in.

So sorry this took so long to get out! (I know, I say that all the time) But this is a longer chapter for me and I really didn't want to break it up into two so it took a little more time. Hope you enjoy even though we're out of the holiday season!

"Good morning. Here again, are you?" Hermione called out as she trudged in on Tuesday. Malfoy was watching a group of nine enchanted ballerina puppets performing pirouettes around her desk. He'd stayed away for most of the previous day after their deeply personal conversation, but Hermione found herself pleased that their new morning tradition wasn't ruined.

"I couldn't miss what the ninth day of Christmas had to offer," he said without looking directly at her. He dropped a document in her inbox and turned to leave. Hermione's stomach dropped. She'd grown used to spending time with him over the past week.

"Well, hold on. I could get us coffees again and we can work on this new file together."

"No... uh, no thanks. I've got a lot of my own stuff to get through today. I need to finish on time today so I can get to Diagon Alley after work." Malfoy reached for one of the eight milk jars in front of him. "I'll take another of these though, if you don't mind."

"I think I have enough to spare," she quipped then raised one brow. "What's in Diagon Alley tonight?"

"Hopefully a Christmas present." Malfoy shrugged.

"Oh! You still haven't...? Of course, because I didn't... I mean, should I come with you?"

He laughed. "Right, because that worked out so well last time."

Then it dawned on her. "I didn't buy my secret santa gift yet!"

"You'd better get on that. Only three days left you know." He was laughing a little, teasing her, but obviously in the same boat.

She huffed but smiled despite herself. "I did write you out a list of suggestions last week like you asked, though. I just forgot to give it to you because... well, you know." She blushed in remembering their spat from the week before. "Anyway, it's here somewhere... aha!" She pulled a sheet out of a drawer and brandished it at him.

"I'm okay, actually. I got something in mind. Maybe."

"Please take it, in any case." Hermione grabbed his hand and placed the paper in it, a genius idea forming in her mind. "It'll make me feel less one-sided when I ask you for help with my secret santa gift." What better place to get an idea for a present than the recipient himself?

Malfoy gave her a half sad kind of smile. "A bloke, I'm guessing." She nodded and tried to keep her face neutral. He squinted for a moment as he thought. "Cufflinks. Doesn't matter what kind of man he is, if he works here with us he'll need them for a function at some point. And most men, not including myself of course, rarely think of them."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and laughed heartily.

"What?" he demanded. He was wearing an expression that looked like one of the partridges when his feathers got ruffled.

"Sorry, nothing," she breathed between giggles. "That was my first thought too, actually."

With ferrets on them.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Alright then. I'll let you get to it." He gave a stilted waved and walked off.

Hermione sat in her desk chair and turned to the stack of papers in her inbox, still chuckling quietly to herself. Well, it would have been a good idea, she thought, if he hadn't given her a suggestion that, by his own admission, didn't apply to him. Suddenly she froze and allowed her eyes to find his still retreating figure down the hall.

What better place to get an idea for a present than the recipient herself?

Had Malfoy used this same thought for finding his own secret santa gift? The cogs in her brain clicked into place. She'd played the Christmas carol in his presence only days before the first present arrived and the mistake of a pair of trees versus a pear tree had been corrected when she told him about it. By Malfoy's own guess, her secret santa would be a pureblood man with a decently sized Gringott's vault. He certainly checked both of those criteria. And hadn't he been at her desk before her every morning since this whole thing started? That would have given him the chance to plant the gifts!

Bugger.

Heat rose in her cheeks again as she replayed their conversation from the prior day in her head again.

"He fancies himself your true love."

When Malfoy had first come to her asking for help, she'd guessed that he had a thing for the muggle-born witch that he drew from the cauldron. But she couldn't have guessed then that it was her!

"Are you saying you're not ready to move on?"

Hermione groaned. She'd brought up Ron of all things. Her face paled. She realized that she hadn't answered Malfoy's question. She was ready to move on. Her next reluctant realization was that she might care for him to know that answer.

...

Malfoy did a bang-up job of avoiding her for the rest of the day, so Hermione decided that she could stage a run-in at Diagon Alley. She had to get her last minute Christmas shopping done anyway, and she knew he'd be there. She fussed with her hair a little more than usual before grumpily forcing a hat over it when she found the weather had taken cold and windy turn. After about twenty minutes spent searching more for him than for a gift, she was about to give up when she saw a flash of white blond hair enter a shop just down the way. Of course Malfoy would rather brave the cold than subject himself to hat hair, she scoffed. Hermione followed him into the shop, happily finding that it was a book store. If she happened to run into him here, she would hardly have to make an excuse. Still, she stayed sneaking, keeping an eye on him through the stacks. Just as she had made up her mind to reveal herself, she overhead his conversation with the shopkeeper.

"That one," Malfoy said while he pointed into a case. Hermione couldn't make out the contents.

"The gold and ruby, sir?" The older man asked.

"Yes."

The shopkeeper pulled something shiny out of the case and held it up. Hermione took a few silent steps closer until she could make out what the object was. It was a fancy metal bookmark, in Gryffindor colors. She stumbled backwards. So it was true! This was the final proof she needed- Draco Malfoy was her secret santa!

In her shock, she backed into a shelf with a loud bump. The shopkeeper lifted his head.

"Are you alright, miss?"

Malfoy started to turn around. She couldn't run into him now that she caught him buying her present! She ducked quickly behind the shelf and steadied it.

"Fine, thank you!" she shouted gruffly, hoping to distort her voice enough that Malfoy wouldn't recognize her. She held her breath until she heard the bell on the door signaling Malfoy had left.

The shopkeeper eyed her suspiciously as she tried to slink away. Out of guilt, she purchased the closest book she could reach, and didn't notice until she was back on the street that she'd just bought a copy of The Ultimate Wizard Guide to Winning Witches.

...

On Wednesday morning, Hermione went straight for Harry's office instead of her own desk. Malfoy was probably at her desk waiting for her to see the new gift he left, but she just couldn't face him yet. Not now that she knew he had feelings towards her and she had... well, something towards him.

"Here," she grumbled as she chucked her new book at Harry. Luckily he recovered from his surprise quick enough to catch it against his chest.

"What's this?" Harry adjusted his glasses. "Is this some kind of hint? Has Ginny complained about something?"

"No." Hermione helped herself to one of his tea biscuits. "A long story, that's what that is. But I know you have a tendency to be a last minute shopper, so I thought I'd pass something along that I obviously have no use for."

"Hey!" He shooed her hand away from his biscuits. "Who're you suggesting I gift this to exactly? Ron?"

She held her hands palm up in an I don't know gesture.

"This would kind of be an insult gift for him, Hermione. Or anyone our age, really."

Sighing, she got past his swatting hand and stole one more biscuit. "Then you see why I can't give it as my secret santa gift."

He choked out a laugh into his tea. "Malfoy? Oh please give it to him, 'Mione. I just have to see his face when he unwraps this!" Her friend then stifled his laughter in response to her dark glare. "What happened to the cufflink idea?"

"He's got enough, I've heard."

Harry winked. "Ah, but I'd bet not any with rodents on them." He dodged a smack.

"Not helping, Harry."

...

Malfoy must have already come and gone from her desk by the time she made it over. She could tell because there were only seven jars of milk lined up from that morning's house elf delivery. She took stock of day ten's new gift: male puppets that joined the ballerinas in graceful jetés.

...

On Thursday morning, she caught sight of the blond only as he was leaving her desk. Retreating, was more like it, with his index fingers stuck firmly in his ears, like the rest of the ministry workers around. She saw Malfoy mouth 'good luck' to her as he passed. Or maybe he yelled it and she just couldn't hear him. Who's to know, she thought, although the dreadful shrieking of eleven bagpipes and the squawking of no less than six types of perturbed birds was enough to drown out even her thoughts, too.

...

Friday morning, there was no Malfoy to be found. It seemed her not-so-secret santa had decided that a second all-out commotion at her desk was inadvisable, possibly because of a memo that circulated immediately after the bagpiper debacle. 'All secret santa gifts to be exchanged at the holiday party tomorrow only. No exceptions. No live gifts of any kind.' So, instead of his usual compounding gift, he'd opted for just a type written note again, simply stating: On the twelfth day of Christmas, my secret santa met me at the department holiday party. Hermione couldn't stop the grin that curled on her lips.

...

At precisely five o'clock, Hermione shucked her work robes in the loo, revealing the cream colored cocktail dress she'd had underneath all day. The dress was a little rumpled, but it was nothing a little de-wrinkling spell couldn't fix. She smoothed the fabric down again by hand and took one last look in the mirror, biting her lip. She had been dreading this Christmas party for two weeks but things had changed so drastically for her in that time. Fourteen days ago she barely tolerated Draco Malfoy as a fellow human being and now she decided he wasn't all bad. At the very least, he was a competent coworker. But he was more than that. Could she call him a friend? Could he be more? Hermione had tried her best to ignore how good he'd looked lately, but the genuine smiles she'd earned from him recently changed her opinion for the better in that respect, too. And if anyone asked, she would swear up and down that her choice of dress had nothing to do with the desire to make him think the same of her.

It was a good thing no one was asking. She wasn't even convincing herself.

Hermione did well enough mingling at the party. That is, if you count rolling her eyes at her colleagues only twice as behaving well, which she certainly did because someone had been a little heavy handed with the rum in the eggnog and its effects were showing. Not to mention the roving charmed mistletoe that caught more than a few odd couples in awkward holiday kisses.

Through all of this, a certain former Slytherin was conspicuously missing. When Robards announced it was time to exchange secret santa gifts, Hermione started to become a little worried. The room became a mad house of scattering people. She abandoned hope of finding the wizard and instead decided to stay in one place herself to wait for him to find her. For lack of anything else to do, she fluffed the bow on her present. It had been crushed nearly flat by her sweaty, tight grip.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," said a male voice that seemed to materialize beside her. Unfortunately it was not the particular male voice she had hoped for. It was Scott from the Administrative Registration Department, a short and stocky wizard with close cropped brown hair and deep tan complexion. "You look beautiful in that dress."

"Oh, hi Scott." She forced a smile at the man's own ill-fitting suit. "Thank you, happy Christmas to you. And, uh, you look nice as well." She let her eyes scan the crowd again, hardly noticing that Scott had not moved on yet.

"Looking for someone?"

She nodded. "My secret santa. Have you seen Malfoy anywhere?"

Instead of answering, Scott stepped back into her line of vision and asked another question of his own, a hint amusement laced in his voice. "Do you call everyone by their last names?"

Hermione lifted one shoulder in a half shrug and angled her body so she could still have the best view of everyone else in the room. "Just him. It doesn't mean anything," she clarified out of embarrassment, "just habit."

Scott cocked his head to the side. "Well, him and me. Does it mean anything toward me?"

"You?" Hermione said, turning back to him with her brows knit. The man was looking at her hopefully, but his expression changed then to confusion.

"You did know Scott is my last name, right?" The wizard formerly known as Scott asked.

"Oh, sure I knew that!" She said a little too loudly to be believed. "Scott just rolls off the tongue so much easier than..." She floundered and trailed off.

"Sebastien," he finished for her. "My given name is Sebastien." He eyed her intently, then added, "Sebastien Scott. SS."

Hermione allowed herself to regain her composure and the rest of his words started to sink in. "S.S.?" Her knees suddenly felt wobbly. If he meant what she thought he meant then... maybe she was wrong about Malfoy and his feelings for her.

"It also stands for secret santa." Sebastien gave her a mischievous smile. "I have to say I'm a little surprised. When I put just the initials on the note, I was sure you'd figure it out straight away." He lifted a blue and silver wrapped package in front of her and his expression turned softer. "Anyway, it's time for your final gift. Care to see what your true love gave to you?"

"I..." Hermione blushed crimson. The night was not going at all how she expected. Well, that's not exactly true. She did expect (or hope, really) that her secret santa might be forward with her, but that was when she imagined him to be taller and a bit more pale.

She stowed her present for Malfoy under her arm and took the offered box in front of her. "Oh, heavier than it looks. There aren't twelve tiny drummers in here waiting to spring out on me, are there?"

Sebastien only smiled wider. Hermione ripped the wrapping paper off to reveal plain box, inside of which was a glittering snow globe, empty except for the iridescent snow flakes.

"It's really lovely, Sebastien. Thank you."

He pointed to a small knob on the side of the globe and started to crank the knob in a circle. "Wait until you wind it up."

The melody for the Twelve Days of Christmas tinkled out sounding like tiny bells. Then, the once empty globe came to life with miniature images of all the gifts she had received, including the final day that he hadn't had a chance to actually give her- a group of twelve nutcracker soldiers beating on snare drums.

"It's lovely, truly," Hermione repeated. She swallowed a lump in her throat when she realized Sebastien had not yet removed his hand from the snow globe. The two of them were holding it between them, almost touching hands. He was looking at her as if she had just given him a gift instead of the other way around.

"I was wondering," he ventured, "do you have plans for New Year's Eve?"

Hermione blinked to break their eye contact and turned away. She was considering what she could say back to let him down easily when her gaze happened upon Malfoy past a break in the masses. He was with a petite brunette who flashed him an eager smile as she accepted the gift bag he held out to her. Hermione couldn't stop a gasp.

"Who's that?"

Sebastien frowned but followed her line of sight. "The witch with Draco Malfoy?" Hermione nodded in return. "Colette Moreau. She's from the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects." Sebastien's head bounced back and forth between Hermione and Colette and he let out a surprised whistle. "That's funny! It never occurred to me how much you two look alike before now. You two related?"

"No." Heat began to build in Hermione's chest. "I... I've got to go." Without another glance, she rushed out of the room.

"What about New Year?" Sebastien yelled in futility to her back.

...

When she was in the safety of her home, Hermione stripped out of her dress immediately and threw on her "downtime uniform": baggy sweatpants, an old tank top, her paisley housecoat, and a pair of cat slippers that could purr when she walked. She was halfway to the freezer to fetch a pint of ice cream when her doorbell rang. Her slippers padded and purred across the floor until she reached the threshold and opened the door.

"Malfoy?" Instinctively she tugged her robe closer around her middle. She'd barely had enough time to contemplate her feelings, or wallow in them more likely, and here he was to... to do what?

"You left the party," he said by way of greeting. His eyes scanned her body without bothering to hide it. "Nice slippers."

"W-what are you doing here?" she stammered. Silently, she wished she'd kept her party clothes on for just a bit longer.

"I believe I'm showing up uninvited at your flat in the middle of the night."

The grin he gave her was subtle and cheeky. Hermione blushed. He'd said those same words two weeks ago in a quarrel. How strange it was that something that sounded so distasteful then could sound so playful now.

"How did you know where I live?"

He chuckled and started to respond but Hermione cut him off. "Let me guess. Harry after having some of that eggnog." Malfoy tapped the end of his nose twice, indicating that she guessed correctly.

"Of course." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and racked her brain for anything else to say. "So... Colette Moreau?" Ugh. Why did that have to be the first thing that came to mind? She almost smacked herself in the forehead with her palm.

"Colette Moreau," he affirmed, starting to look a little uneasy, shivering on her stoop in the winter air.

The heat blossomed back under Hermione's chest, blocking any chill from outside. Suddenly Hermione didn't have to contemplate her feelings anymore, she knew exactly what they were- jealousy and loneliness. Jealousy because she had only just figured out what she wanted, and loneliness because the possibility was lost just as quickly as she had found it. With a deep breath, she pushed her emotions down and kept her voice as even as possible. "Did she enjoy the bookmark, then?"

Malfoy's jaw dropped open and he breathed out a big puff of white air. "The what?"

"The secret santa gift you gave her. Did she like it?"

"Oh, I... no. I didn't give her a bookmark." Malfoy crossed his arms. "How did you know about that? Were you spying on me?"

Hermione's eyes went wide."No! It was an accident!" She drew her mouth in a thin line. All her feelings of pining flew out the window and she reverted back to her old bickering ways. "Anyway, are you just here to accuse me, or what?" She reached out for the edge of her door and held it tensed to show him she could easily swing it shut in his face. From the next room, the partridges seemed to sense her distress and squawked in a loud chorus.

"You've got a whole family of partridges in there by now, huh?" Malfoy asked, trying to change the subject. Hermione wanted to laugh at the unintended joke, but she held back to keep an air of authority. He sighed, a look of concession taking over his features. "No, definitely not to accuse you. Look, can I just come in for a tick? It's freezing out here." Hermione didn't move to allow him in. He sighed again. "It's about my present."

She kept still. "I see. I'm sure you figured out that I'm your secret santa since you didn't get a gift at the party."

"No. Well, yes. I mean, I did put that together, but I was talking about my present for you."

Malfoy reached one gloved hand into his coat pocket and extracted a small, thin package dressed up in green and red ribbon. She pulled in an audible breath and stepped backward in surprise. Malfoy took that as an opening and advanced over the threshold into her flat. Once they were on level ground, she had to incline her head to look him in the eye, and for some reason that was the only place she could look.

She tore her gaze away to find, beneath the pretty paper, the shining gold and red jewel studded bookmark. It was even more beautiful up close. "You didn't draw my name," she whispered, too dumbstruck to form the question she really meant to ask.

"True." Suddenly Malfoy's hands were with hers. "But I wanted to get this for you anyway."

Hermione's hands felt slick within his. "But... Colette Moreau."

"What about her?' Malfoy asked quietly.

"You liked her. You as good as told me so the day you asked for help with her gift." Hermione's words started to come fast. "What would she think about you being here now?"

"Colette Moreau..." Malfoy began pensively. After a moment of quiet he cleared his throat. "She was a substitute. A poor man's version of the real thing."

Hermione bit her lip around her growing smile. "And you fancy yourself the poor man in this scenario?"

His eyes remained serious and there was no humour in his tone when he responded. "I've always been lacking in what I have to offer when it comes to you."

By the time she realized what she was doing, she'd already leaned halfway to him and he met her the rest of the way. Their lips brushed, soft and unsure. Hermione felt the burning return to her chest, but this time it was in pleasure instead of in pain. She wound her arms around his shoulders and his hands found their way to her waist. Tentatively, his tongue sought hers and the heat in her bosom spread lower. She groaned into his mouth and his responding laugh was husky. Together they stumbled sideways in the vague direction of her living room, groping to find the couch. Hermione's legs buckled when her knee found the couch and they tumbled down, her landing with her back to the cushion and Malfoy on top beaming down at her.

...

Midnight found the couple still on the couch under a blanket, entwined at the limbs, sans a few items of clothing. They were listening to the sounds of their gulping breath when their background music of bird song turned to silence. Hermione blinked around.

"No more birds. The gold rings were over there on my desk and now they're gone. I'll bet all the milk in my fridge disappeared, too."

"They were like leprechaun coins the whole time, set to vanish after your twelve days of Christmas," Malfoy concluded. "At least you've got one gift that will stick around."

Hermione thought it might not be the best time to bring up the snow globe from Sebastien, so instead she planted a chaste kiss to Malfoy's cheek. "Do you mean the bookmark or you?"

"Two then," he said as he nuzzled beneath her ear.

"Oh! I forgot to give you your gift!" She sat up and dug around their discarded clothes.

"I beg to differ," he drawled flirtatiously.

Hermione nudged him on the shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Here." She plunked a thick rectangular package on his lap. "Harry wanted to be here to see this..." she paused when she noticed the look on her partner's face. "Oh hush, I don't mean this," she used her index finger to pull down his side of the blanket, revealing more of his toned stomach. "I mean you opening this gift. But, present circumstances in mind, maybe it's best if we keep it to ourselves."

"Definitely best." Malfoy's fingers grasped his parcel. "It feels like a book. I should have guessed, coming from you."

Hermione bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing as he ripped the wrapping paper. She watched his eyes scan the title of the book once, twice, then up to her in confusion.

"Is... is this a joke?"

She winked. "How about... a challenge?"

Malfoy's frown turned into a smirk. He tackled her and kissed her forcefully, letting his new copy of The Ultimate Wizard Guide to Winning Witches fall to the floor.

"Game on, Santa."