This was originally due to be posted for Christmas but I got a little sidetracked and also it became more than just a one/two shot, there will be six chapters in total.

As in the summary, there are some Cursed Child Spoilers in here, but no secrets given away. There are also a couple of little changes to the epilogue, which I hope you will forgive and enjoy.

As always with my fics PLEASE forgive any errors, whatever form they might take, reviews always welcome. And I hope you enjoy

"Are you sure you don't mind Hermione? I feel it's an awful cheek, especially just for a half a dozen or so students."

"Of course not Minerva, how many more times, it's not a problem. I had nothing planned over the holidays, you go and see your niece, she needs you."

Hermione patted the older woman affectionately on the arm.

"But…"

Hermione cut her former head of house and now Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, firmly off.

"No more arguments Minerva, its just nine days. I am sure I can cope with seven pupils on my own for that long." A neatly plucked brow rose and she gave the headmistress a warm smile.

Minerva McGonagall viewed her one-time pupil, who was now Head of Gryffindor House, and Professor Of Muggle studies, from beneath her aged black hat, pushing her wire rimmed spectacles back up her sharp nose. She had no doubt whatsoever in the younger woman's ability to look after the students remaining at the school for the Christmas holiday, but she felt very guilty that she was asking her to give up whatever festive plans she might have had, to do so.

Hermione sensed the wily Scot's unease but knew very well it was guilt based more than anything else, and she wasn't having any of it.

Molly Weasley had of course invited her former daughter in law to lunch at the burrow along with the rest of the family, but as Ronald had recently become engaged, she didn't feel right about going. A point she had emphasised to Minerva McGonagall several times already and reiterated now.

"Minerva, I told you it's the perfect excuse for me to get out of lunch with the Weasley's. Molly will only let me off and forgive me if it's work related."

Her voice implored the sympathy of the older witch, who was shaking her head, but grudgingly accepting her words.

"Anyway it's a handful of Hufflepuffs and 2 Ravenclaws, not exactly taxing. I can catch up on some reading and enjoy the peace and quiet myself."

She saw Minerva McGonagall's thin brows knit together and waited for the inevitable.

"Hmm maybe not."

Her Scottish brogue was quiet, and just a tad menacing, it was a look and a tenor Hermione had seen and heard many times as a pupil.

"But there is also a Slytherin, A Malfoy at that, whose Grandfather, as you well know is once again on the board of school governors."

The disapproval was more than evident in the headmistress's tone of voice, but also in her wrinkled nose, and those very knitted brows.

Hermione really didn't want to argue with her superior, or her friend come to that, well on one point she couldn't, Lucius Malfoy was indeed once more on the Hogwarts board of School governors. She however doubted his grandson Scorpius would be any trouble at all, in fact she felt sure she would hardly know he was there.

Unlike his father, and quite possibly his grandfather before him, Scorpius Malfoy was a studious, well behaved boy, who took his lessons, whatever they were and whomever the Professor was, very seriously. He had no airs and graces about him and was very close to Harry's son Albus, the pair of them always taking an active part in the classroom, or at least they had until Scorpius' mother had died during the summer holidays. On his return to school in the September, the young Malfoy boy had been understandably much quieter and withdrawn, his participation in class almost non-existent. Of course he was grieving for his mother, and Christmas was always going to be tough on the young Malfoy, but to find himself left alone at school, Hermione found that unforgivable, seething silently about her old school nemesis and haughty disdainful father. Yes Draco Malfoy had lost his wife, but he of all people should also understand how his son was feeling, having lost his own mother Narcissa a couple of years or so earlier.

Hermione brought her thoughts back to Minerva McGonagall, and her comments about Lucius Malfoy.

"Yes I know, Harry was telling me he has also found some grace and favour at the ministry too, helping fund some new projects and departments."

The look on the headmistress's face and the little harrumph that accompanied it, told Hermione she was far from impressed, but it diverted her from the subject of Hermione remaining at Hogwarts over Christmas, so she didn't comment.

Minerva McGonagall asked Hermione a couple more times, if she was sure she didn't mind staying at Hogwarts, before she finally flued from the ancient old Castle, but not before assuring her young friend and colleague that she was only an owl and an apparation away.

The last time Hermione had spent the Christmas holiday's at Hogwarts had been during her third year, when the place had been crawling with the hideous Dementors of Azkaban looking for Sirius Black. Since she had returned as a teacher, she had never stayed, always spending the holidays with her ex husband and his family at the Burrow. It was rather strange being here as adult, the person in charge. She smiled to herself as she walked through the quiet empty corridors.

"Good evening Hermione, lovely to have you here for Christmas."

Nearly Headless Nick drifted passed her as she left the Gryffindor Common Room and made her way to check on the other inhabitants.

"Good evening Sir Nicholas, it's always good to have you for company." She offered the ghost a cheeky grin, he bowed politely before vanishing into the walls.

Her grin grew a little larger as she recalled her first encounter with the silvery spirit back in her first year. When she made the mistake of asking him how he could be "nearly headless", she chuckled aloud as she continued to make her way to the Hufflepuff basement.

Descending the grand staircase towards the kitchen area and the common room, Hermione decided to grab herself a cup of tea before checking on the four Hufflepuffs who had remained at school. She hated their common room, despite it actually being quite possibly the cosiest of the four. Like anyone else entering it or any of the other house common rooms, you needed a password. Passwords she could remember easily, the nook on the right-hand side of the kitchen corridor demanded slightly more than the usual spoken watchword, you had to tap the barrel second from the bottom rhythmically. For all of Hermione Granger's academic qualities, she had never had much of a musical ear, the idea of being doused in vinegar for her lack of musicality, was not a pleasant thought for the young witch.

Reaching midway down the long central staircase, she paused to admire the giant Christmas tree, carefully felled, erected and fondly decorated under the watchful supervision of an aging Hagrid. Even the lovingly gentle giant was conspicuous by his absence this year, had taken his half-brother Grawp off to visit some long lost relative somewhere or another. The tree looked even more spectacular and beautiful this year, the scent of it large pine needles filling the air along with the sound of the self-tinkling bells, which made this Christmas Eve feel even more festive, odd considering the circumstances.

Glancing towards its foot and the array of brightly wrapped parcels scattered beneath its boughs, she saw the familiar blonde head of Scorpius Malfoy dash across the main entrance hall, he'd obviously been outside, his cloak covered in large flakes of the snow which was still falling heavily. He too seemed to be headed towards the kitchen, checking on him now as she made her tea, would save her a trip to the Slytherin common room, the Dungeons were about as joyful as the prospect of being drenched in vinegar.

Despite the vast amount of people they had to cater for, staff and students alike, the kitchen at Hogwarts was surprisingly small, thanks to extension charms, house elves and of course the wonders of magic. There was no array of modern gadgets or technology, even the one of only two kettles was copper, it boiled happily on the stove and whistled when ready. Hermione had always loved the kitchen here, in many ways, despite being a tad bigger, it reminded her of the one at home, where she had often sat watching her mother prepare meals and bake. The kitchen here at Hogwarts had an enormous walk in stone fireplace, to one side of it was an alcove, which boasted an equally large circular window, the window looked out over the grounds, and gave on of the best views of the Castle. There were two rickety old rocking chairs on either side of the window, and Hermione knew that Minerva McGonagall and the late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had liked to sit here with a hot chocolate on a cold winters evening and pass away the time. It had only been a rumour when she'd been a pupil here, but she and Minerva had shared many a cup of tea and a shortbread in this very spot and the Headmistress had reflectively confirmed the story, with a wry smile and twinkle in her eyes. It was in the very same spot that Hermione Granger now found, Scorpius Malfoy, hunched in one of those rickety old chairs, his cheeks red from the cold, his greyish green eyes equally as red from tears.

Despite having no children of her own, which was the main reason why she and Ronald had divorced, Hermione was a natural with them, that was one of the reasons why she had taken to teaching, which in turn was the second reason she and Ronald had ended their marriage. She viewed the sad, lonely young man who now gazed out over the snow-covered lawns, the whomping willow looking like a Christmas card itself, reflecting his sadness and isolation. She didn't want to intrude on his grief, but her heart ached for him. All be it in a very different way Hermione knew what it was like to lose your mother.

The kitchen was one of the places where Hermione didn't like to use magic, she enjoyed putting the kettle on, or boiling some hot milk, whilst either was happening, she would get out the mugs or cups. Not wanting to disturb Scorpius, in this instance she made an exception, using a little wandless magic to conjure up a piping hot chocolate complete with marshmallows and a cup of tea. The tea came obediently to her, as the chocolate drifted across the room, stopping in front of Draco's son. He lifted his red rimmed eyes to the steaming mug, before glancing uncertainly in Hermione's direction.

"I'm sorry Professor I know students aren't supposed to be in the kitchen…"

Hermione waved her free hand dismissively.

"I won't tell the Headmistress Scorpius if you let me join you." She gestured the chair opposite with her cup.

The young boy nervously acquiesced, nodding his blonde head. He was the image of his father, albeit without the higher than mighty attitude, everything about him was pure Malfoy, but there was a soft fragility about him, which Hermione assumed he must have inherited from his mother.

"I see it's still snowing outside."

Hermione didn't look out of the window, instead she cast her brown eyes at the flakes which were slowly melting on his dark cloak.

"You should take it off, it will be damp, and you'll catch cold."

Scorpius did as she suggested without argument, shrugging out of his heavy wet cloak and draping it over the arm of the chair.

"Thank you, Professor." He said quietly sipping on his chocolate for the first time, the frothy drink and mallows coating his upper lip with a white moustache.

She winked at him, pointing to his sticky lip, which he quickly wiped with the back of his hand. A weak smile curved his mouth, it didn't reach his eyes which were still red and painfully sad. Hermione had an overwhelming urge to reach out and hug him but thought better of it. This wasn't Albus, whom she still thought of as her nephew and whom she had comforted many times. Scorpius might not have a lot of his character in common with his father or his grandfather for that matter, but he was still a Malfoy.

"My mother always made me hot chocolate when it was snowing." She offered gently.

She had assumed that it was missing his mother which had upset him so much, but whilst he looked reflectively at the drink in his hand, his eyes glistening, something told her that wasn't entirely it.

"My mother used to sprinkle chocolate on the marshmallows too." Scorpius responded quietly.

"I shall remember that for next time." She said.

This time the weak smile, just about reached his eyes, gratitude also flashing back at her.

"I love sitting here and looking out of the window, it's pretty and so quiet. I don't think we've had quite so much snow in a long time though." Hermione said conversationally, hoping to draw the younger man out, it seemed to work.

"There is a rumour that the Headmistress and Professor Dumbledore used to sit here."

Hermione looked at him over the rim of her own cup.

"Well if I promise not to tell Professor McGonagall that you were in here, then you have to keep a secret for me."

Scorpius nodded, the softness she saw in his face must definitely come from his mother, it was the only time he didn't look like Draco.

"Of course Professor."

"That rumour, it's true. Professor McGonagall told me herself."

A little spark of joy seemed to flash in his face, perhaps at the conspiracy she had incited, but somehow it seemed he enjoyed the little bit of Hogwarts folklore.

"As I am sure you know, Professor Dumbledore was Headmaster in mine and your father's time here."

She was careful what she said to Scorpius, it stood to reason he would know who Headmaster during his father's tenure as a pupil was, but she did not know just how much family history he was party to. His grandfather having had the former Headmaster removed from his post during her second term, and his father having been charged by Lord Voldemort during her sixth, to kill him.

"I love the thought of them sitting here, chatting, moaning about the students and the staff I bet, whilst sharing a cup of something and a biscuit or two."

Again she saw that little flicker of joy in Scorpius sad face.

"I thought Professor McGonagall was going to be here over Christmas, not you."

The young Malfoy's free hand came up to mouth in horror.

"I'm sorry." He said again. "That sounded very rude, I didn't mean… it wasn't meant to come out like that."

Oh he certainly got his manner from his mother's side thought Hermione, she could never imagine Draco or Lucius Malfoy apologising for anything. She didn't want to explain, why the Headmistress wasn't here or why she was for that matter, so she slipped a little humour into her gentle chiding response instead.

"I don't think Professor McGonagall puts marshmallows on her hot chocolate, so you are lucky it's me."

Scorpius was momentarily distracted by her reply, a genuine grin lifting his milky lips, but it vanished along with his forthright question, a question which caught Hermione completely off guard.

"Didn't your family want you either?"

Hermione couldn't for a moment take offence at his words because they were simply so unhappy and so genuinely heartfelt. Her own throat constricted, as tears pricked her eyes, how in Merlin's name did she respond to that? Perhaps with the same straightforward honesty as the question had been posed. The ethics of the conversation was a little questionable, but if nothing else, Hermione felt that Scorpius Malfoy deserved someone being open with him.

"I don't have any family of my own Scorpius."

She met his grey gaze head on, she could see in it that he had suddenly realised what he had said, asked, but unlike before he didn't apologise, he was interested and seemed to be glad to have someone to talk to. She could also see the question hovering on his lips, again she didn't want to go into too much detail, it had nothing to do with Scorpius' lineage, but he was after all a pupil and she had to maintain some boundaries.

"I lost my parents many years ago now, just before the second wizarding war." She didn't lie to Draco's son, she was just a little inaccurate with the details.

The young boy took in everything she was saying, his eyes clouding with more sadness, he took another sip of the drink Hermione had made him, as if it were a Firewhiskey giving him courage to speak.

"I am sad about my mother dying, I miss her so much, but I knew she was sick. She told me." His voice cracked a little.

"She told me that she was going to die, but now nobody wants me."

His eyes fell to the floor, Hermione could see tears glistening on his cheeks, she chewed the inside of her lip, swallowing hard. How on earth could she console him? If this had been Albus Potter, she could have answered him truthfully, with first-hand knowledge, but she knew nothing of Draco and Astoria's relationship, she knew nothing of the relationship Draco had with his son, she was well and truly out of her depth. But as Scorpius' eyes came up to meet hers, Hermione realised she had to say find some words of comfort.

She pulled her rickety old chair slightly forward and put her cup on the floor beside it, both her hands came to rest gently, reassuringly on Scorpius' rather bony knees.

His eyes were wide, red rimmed and expectant, this time it was Hermione who felt she needed a Firewhiskey.

"People react to death, losing someone they love very differently. I think that your Dad loved your Mum very much and maybe he's not dealing with it very well, he doesn't want to hurt or upset you anymore than you already are. So by leaving you here at school he is shielding you from his grief."

Hermione didn't know any of what she had said was fact, she could only but hope. She certainly couldn't imagine the Draco Malfoy she knew having any of those feelings or thinking any such thing. The Draco she knew was just being purely selfish as usual and not thinking about his son at all, perhaps he just didn't want his son around, maybe he was like his own father, Lucius who was only a father when it suited him. Obviously, she wasn't going to tell Scorpius that. Hermione knew compassion and understanding didn't come in abundance when you were a Malfoy, she tried to put that tactfully to the distraught young man.

"Men aren't always good at handling these kind of situations, they find their feelings difficult to talk about and cope with. Knowing your father and grandfather, I am sure that is the case. It isn't that they don't want you around. I think your father is hurting, and it has probably brought painful memories back for your grandfather, unfortunately the Malfoy men tend to be a little selfish."

Hermione breathed a little sigh of relief as she saw, comprehension and relief flood Scorpius face, thank heaven he had some of his mother's genes. He seemed to be waiting for her to carry on.

"It's Christmas Scorpius, that first Christmas without someone you love is very very hard, I know. Please do not think that your family don't want you. I don't really know your grandfather that well and your father and I were never friends, but I honestly don't think that is the case. I really do feel he is sheltering you from his own pain."

Hermione wasn't entirely sure she believed what she was telling Scorpius, but her words seemed to have permeated his pain, given him another perspective. There was a sensitivity and understanding about this young man, which Hermione had certainly never seen in Draco, or on the couple of occasions that they had met, Lucius either, it was something which didn't course through the Malfoy's pureblood.

"Scorpius." Now she instinctively reached out and touched his young face with motherly affection.

His eyes met hers once again, and this time she spoke with a little more surety.

"I know the pure blood which runs through your father and grandfather's veins means that they do not entirely understand how you feel, that they cannot comprehend your pain, but I do know that your mother's blood which runs in your veins, means that you do understand theirs, and you know what I am trying to say to you."

The young man so like his male ancestors in appearance nodded his Malfoy blonde head. Hermione hadn't known his mother, but she felt sure she would have liked her, she could almost sense her presence here now.

"I know being here with me and a handful of people you don't know very well, if at all, doesn't seem like much fun, especially in your situation, but remember we are all in the same boat and are relying on each other to make it a good Christmas."

Scorpius sent his empty mug to the sink, advanced magic for his age thought Hermione, watching as he took his cloak from the arm of the chair, he was taller and lankier than his father had been at that age and had a certain wisdom about him that Draco had never possessed. She suddenly found herself being hugged, the rickety old chair she sat in, grumbling at the sudden, rather fierce movement. She couldn't help but return his impromptu gesture of affection, patting him fondly on the back. For some strange reason, Scorpius Malfoy always brought out the maternal side of her, odd because despite her love of teaching, it wasn't an instinct which reared its head that often.

"Thank you, Professor, of course we will make it a good Christmas."

A little hue of sadness still clung to his pale Malfoy face, haunted his bright eyes and jaded his tone. But Hermione sensed her words had helped, knowing if nothing else, she had given him another viewpoint, whether it was true or not. After everything that had happened, she liked to think even Draco and his beastly father could not be that cruel to their own flesh and pureblood. No matter how much the sins of the past told her otherwise.

With another watery smile, Scorpius slipped out of the back entrance to the kitchen, and off towards the Slytherin common room, leaving Hermione a little stunned and alone with her own reflective, even angry thoughts. Whatever grief Draco was enduring, Merlin, would she like to give him a piece of her mind. How could he allow his son to suffer like this?

A gentle rustle behind her alerted Hermione to the fact that she was no longer alone, the house elves who voluntarily worked at Hogwarts must have returned to make the Christmas Eve supper. She turned to greet them, perhaps even offer her help, not of course that they would let her, only to come face to face with Scorpius' grandfather, Lucius Malfoy.