Disclaimer: JKR's, not mine.

A/N: Written for a Dramione Christmas exchange with the prompt "bells." I had the "Carol of the Bells" on repeat while writing.

Sweet Silver Bells

by Greenschist

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the flat, Hermione went moping, alone with her cat.

Hermione snorted at her own train of thought and took a sip from the glass of red wine in her hand. Crookshanks stropped back and forth against her ankles. His loud purring and a slow drip from the faucet were the only sounds in the darkened kitchen.

Weary, Hermione leaned against the counter and reached up to tuck a stray strand of her hair back into the loose knot gathered at her nape. At ten minutes to midnight on Christmas Eve, she knew there was no reason for her to be awake and alone. Draco was already asleep, stretched out on top of the bed, too worn out after their evening to pull the covers up. She should be beside him, his arm around her, his leg between hers, his breath warm on her hair.

She pressed her fingertips against her forehead, hoping to rub away the last of the headache that began that afternoon. She couldn't sleep now if she tried. She was too…keyed up? disappointed? She took another sip of her wine before setting her glass on the counter.

It had been a long day and Hermione was ready for Christmas to be over.

The fairies in the fairy lights Draco had strung around the window over the sink were sleeping, their glow too dim to light much more than the frost patterns etched around the window. Through the glass, Hermione could see scattered flakes of snow falling, illuminated in the neighbor's colored lights. She shivered and tucked her hands in the pockets of her fluffy robe. Maybe enough will stick around to give us a white Christmas, she thought, trying to recapture a little of her Christmas spirit.

Crookshanks meowed once and leaped from the floor to the countertop. He landed with a graceless thump and looked down at the floor in apparent satisfaction. Tail up, purring all the louder, he walked along the sink's edge and butted his head against her arm until she obliged him by running her hand down his spine.

"You shouldn't be up here, Crookshanks. You know better than that." There was no ire to her words, spoken mostly from habit. The old half-Kneazle had been a counter climber and table jumper for as long as she had owned him and wasn't likely to change now. You can't teach an old Kneazle new tricks, she thought. Or old Malfoys…or old Weasleys…or even old Muggle dentists. She frowned at the dark night outside her window and picked up her glass again for another sip.

Hermione heard the rustle of cloth and the quiet slap of bare feet behind her and turned to find Draco entering the kitchen, yawning as he pulled his robe up over his shoulders. His chest was framed by the open robe, and the plush navy fabric made his grey eyes bluer. His pale hair was rumpled, flattened into a pinwheel on one side where it had been pressed against his pillow. He yawned again, hugely, splitting his face and exposing his even white teeth before he covered his face with his hand. After almost a year of dating and two months of living together, Hermione knew exactly what he would do next, the way he rubbed his cheek with his palm, then the tip of his nose with one finger, then pinched the bridge between his eyes, chasing away the sleep.

She smiled. She loved him so much, just the sight of him made her happier, and the dear, familiar things he did warmed her heart.

"There you are." His voice was deep with sleep, and his arms went around her as naturally as breathing. "Is it Christmas yet?"

"It's just a few minutes to midnight." Hermione rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I thought you'd sleep until morning. What woke you?"

"I think it was not having you next to me. You know I hate waking up and not finding you there." He kissed the shallow indent where her shoulder met her neck. "Sorry I fell asleep so fast, wasn't part of my master plan." The tip of his tongue traced a path up her throat and Hermione sighed. When his lips grazed her earlobe, she sighed again and leaned back against him.

"You had a plan?" She tipped her head against his shoulder to give him better access to her throat. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, first we—Crookshanks! Get down!" Draco's hands, busy with the tie of her robe were suddenly gone and Hermione was standing on her own. "Bad cat!" Draco made a hissing sound and clapped his hands together in front of Crookshank's nose. "Off the counter!"

Unimpressed, Crookshanks turned his head and groomed the orange fur on his shoulder and then sat on the edge of the sink, bushy tail wrapped neatly around his massive paws. His wide golden eyes stared at Draco without blinking, as if daring the human to move him.

"You rotten fleabag," Draco muttered in disbelief, and Hermione laughed and scooped her cat off the counter.

"Sorry, Draco." She scratched behind Crookshank's ears and coaxed another purr out of him before dropping him gently to the floor. "Crooks has always been like that."

"Yeah, right. He knows he drives me crazy, so he's doing it on purpose." Together, they watched Crookshanks leave the kitchen, tail and nose held high. "That beast is still not happy we're living together."

"Neither is anybody else, so I guess Crookshanks is in good company." Hermione kept her voice as light as possible, but by the way Draco stilled, she knew she was not particularly successful at hiding her thoughts. But it was Christmas, their first Christmas together, and Hermione did not want to waste another moment of it on depression. Smiling, she untied her bulky robe and let it fall to the floor.

"Now, where were we?" She pressed close, sliding her hands up his chest and over his shoulders until he could shake his robe off, just like hers. She kissed him, and his lips parted, his tongue twining around hers. He exhaled sharply through his nose when she pulled back enough to nip his lower lip, but he didn't slide her nightgown's thin straps off her shoulders like she thought he would, and when she reached for the drawstring holding up his pajama bottoms, he captured her hands and held them in his.

She looked up into his eyes, eyes so full of warmth and love, understanding and shared sadness. "Don't you want to?"

"You know I always want you." He kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers.

"Then why…?"

"Shh…listen."

Hermione obeyed and heard the joyous sound of church bells announcing the arrival of midnight. "It's Christmas," she murmured, laying her head on Draco's shoulder.

"Mm-hm. Happy Christmas, Hermione." He swayed them back and forth, a quiet dance in their dark kitchen.

"Happy Christmas." She hid her face against his neck and held him tight. She didn't feel happy, and by the gentle circles he massaged on her back, she knew it was obvious.

The church bells faded away, and Draco began to hum a carol under his breath, still turning them in small circles through their kitchen. After listening for a moment, Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and hummed along with him. It was the Carol of the Bells, one of the many carols they had sung together while decorating their flat for the season. Together, they had hung the tree with delicate silver and crystal ornaments that had belonged to the Malfoys for generations, the Tiffany ornaments that Hermione's grandmother had been so proud of, and the colorful resin and glass ornaments they had bought together.

When they reached the end of the song, Hermione rubbed her cheek against his chest and whispered, "Tonight wasn't any fun at all, was it?"

He sighed. "Not really, no." He kissed the top of her head. "It was worse than I thought it would be."

She looked up into his eyes. "It was so tense and miserable, Draco. Whether we're at your parents' house, mine, or the Burrow, we are not really welcome as a couple anywhere. The Weasleys hate you, and my parents are uncomfortable around you. Your parents couldn't be more obvious that they still find our relationship disgusting." Draco flinched and Hermione hugged him. She knew Lucius's chilly contempt hurt Draco far more than it hurt her.

"I guess we're still a shock to them." He mustered up a smile.

"But we shouldn't be, not still." Her voice broke. "We should just be 'Hermione and Draco' like Harry and Ginny get to be 'Harry and Ginny' and your parents get to be 'Lucius and Narcissa' and so on." Hermione bit her lip and looked down. "I hate how our relationship is seen as a temporary mistake."

Draco tipped her chin up. "Next year will be better."

"Do you really think so?"

His smile became more genuine. "Despite everything, they love us. And if life has taught me anything, it's that love has a way of changing everything." His expression softened as he studied her face under the glow of the fairy lights. "What we have now is something neither of us could have imagined ten years ago. We'll just have to give our friends and family a chance to catch up to us."

She shook her head. Sometimes there was a wellspring of hope in Draco anyone who didn't know him well would find remarkable. "But what if they never do?"

He grinned. "Then screw 'em all. We have each other."

She laughed and rose up on her toes to kiss him again. "I just wish," she paused, "I wish they could be happy for us." She shrugged. "It's our first Christmas after all."

"Ah, that reminds me." Draco knelt and picked up his robe, turning it over until he could reach into the pocket. "I was saving this until Christmas morning, but I'll give it to you now instead." He held out his hand and offered Hermione a small bundle wrapped in a clean handkerchief.

"What is it?" Taking it from him, Hermione untied the knot holding the cloth closed. In her hand lay one of Draco's antique family ornaments, a silver bell. Hermione had admired the bell's clear ring and its ornate Malfoy crest when she had hung it on their tree. Her thumb traced Draco's family crest as she looked up at him in confusion. "You're giving me one of your ornaments?"

"Turn it over," he said, and he pulled his wand out of the robe's other pocket and cast a silent Lumos so she could see.

Engraved on the back of the bell, Hermione read Our first Christmas together - Hermione and Draco – 2003.

"Oh, Draco." Her voice was hoarse.

His hand covered hers, the bell held between their palms. "To celebrate our first Christmas, but certainly not our last."

Hermione sniffed and used her free hand to wipe her eyes. "I love it, and I can't wait to see it on our tree." She tugged him toward the living room where their tree waited in the corner. "We don't need to keep this a secret do we? I'm sure it won't please your parents that you had my name engraved on a family heirloom when I'm not a Malfoy."

"Not a Malfoy yet." Draco corrected, and the bell in their enjoined hands jingled in agreement.