This is for The Last Poison Apple :) Merry Christmas, and thank you for hosting such a huge fic exchange!

This fic is also written for the Honeydukes Competition and the 5 Christmas Keys Competition. My keys were: pinecone, quiet footsteps, paper snowflakes, something broken and crimson.

I hope that you'll enjoy reading this :)

Hermione Riddle slipped into the crimson red dress that had been passed down to her from her mother many years ago, carefully adjusting the train to fit her. The bodice of the dress was decorated with intricate beading and the chiffon material clung loosely to her body. It was the colour of blood, torture… and Christmas. In Hermione's opinion, it was an extremely suitable dress in terms of its symbolism and the way it almost seemed to tell her story. The blood and torture was not literally meant for her; Hermione hadn't actually been out at the field before. Her father had always told her that she was too important for that. Instead, she was groomed to help him in masterminding any plans to be carried out. She knew just what riled the other side up, and she didn't hesitate to use her knowledge to execute her plan to achieve the maximum possible effect. In that sense though, Hermione had more blood on her hand than many…

She didn't know what to think of that. Hermione knew for a fact that the "old Hermione" would have been horrified by the thought. But, as the Hermione of now, she felt nothing but indifference, and even a tinge of pride. What had caused so much of a change in her?

Hermione looked into the mirror and watched her own reflection adjust a lock of hair. It was almost the same pair of eyes that stared out at her in what seemed to be a lifetime ago. Yet, the demeanour behind it was so much darker at the same time. It was strange to think that if she had chosen a different path in life some time ago, she might be in the same kind of position now; but escorted by a different man… and a completely different set of memories. Saying that she regretted her choice would be a lie. What she'd done had been the most logical thing to do in her circumstance. Why side with the people who shunned her when she could be welcomed, or even held in reverence, by the other side? Of course, she hadn't always reasoned that.

There had been a time when she had felt guilty for what she did, but that feeling faded off quite a while ago. Ironically, it had gone away the first time she had been referred to as a traitor by her former friends. Now, she couldn't understand why she had even felt bad at all. After all,they had betrayed her first. If it wasn't for them, she wouldn't have done what she did. They had gone off spilling her secrets to everyone, and then conspired to keep her from all information for her own 'safety'. They claimed they were doing what they thought would be the best for her... but she knew better. The real reason was because they didn't trust her. They suspected her of colluding with the death eaters, just because her true heritage belonged there.

At that time, it had been a false accusation. She wasn't, and had never planned to be a death eater. But, it was too unfair to have her words taken as lies when what she spoke was really the truth. Did they ever consider how she felt, having her world turned upside down and realising that her whole life was a lie? No, and while they never said it explicitly, she knew that everyone doubted her. After a while, she gave up trying to persuade them to think otherwise. Perhaps it had been a rebellious streak in her, but she remembered thinking that if they wanted to think she was a death eater, she would give them something other than their imagination to suspect. Thus, she volunteered herself - and the precious information that she knew - to her true father.

And from the moment she agreed to do so, she knew that something had broken – five years worth of friendship with Harry and Ron. But it hadn't been much to lose; everything they had had been ruined by arguments and quarrels ending in tears. There had been no point for her to stay. Now, she had so much more: someone to love, people who welcomed and respectedher…

The truth was, Hermione had been contacted a while before she joined by none other than her then rival, Draco Malfoy. She could still remember their first ever semi-amiable conversation back when they were sixteen. It was a memory that she thought of often, and she had often considered it a turning point.

"I have to say that I'm not surprised by your heritage, at all," Malfoy said smoothly, sitting himself next to the girl as if it was an usual occurrence, "I've always thought your magic impressive."

"I- How did you know?" Hermione asked in a low voice, keeping her eyes on her work, hoping that no one else would comment on the unlikely pair's close proximity.

"You forget who I am," He said casually, flexing his right arm.

"And what makes you think I wouldn't tell everyone that?" She asked sharply.

"I'm trusting you not to." He drawled in a low voice, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You trust me?" Hermione asked with incredulousness in her tone, finally meeting the boy's gaze, "That's stupid of you."

"I wouldn't call myself stupid, but right now…this isn't about me. It's about you." Malfoy answered with a newfound urgency in his tone.

"What do you want with me?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.

"We don't want to do anything to you, we want you." He said, emphasising the last three words, while lowering his voice even further.

"I-" Hermione started, slightly surprised by the boy's frankness. That wasn't at all his style. Not that talking amiably with her was his style at all.

"Do you really want to fight for the side who doesn't confide anything in you now that they know who you really are?" Malfoy reasoned, "Or would you rather be with the people who understand you and will fight for you, and not against you?"

" I don't support what you stand for at all, but…I don't know." Hermione paused for a moment as doubt clouded her face. "Leave me alone." She had to think.

"Sure. We have all the time in the world when it comes to you… Hermione Riddle." He said softly, passing her something under the table. "If you change your mind, I'm sure you know what to do with this, with your magical capabilities. Until then, you won't be seeing anymore of me."

Hermione sighed. Everything had just become more complicated. Of all people, it was Draco Malfoy who trusted her; not Harry or Ron. Additionally, he had given her time to think. She really appreciated that, for that was her second nature. It was so unlike how everyone had been pushing her to make a decision recently…

Hermione looked down at the item in her hand. It was a simple pinecone.

Hermione still kept that pinecone, which would later become a symbol for much. It helped her to remember the time before she became a death eater. It represented the shock she had felt, the indecision… But in the end, the choice had been quite easy to make, for the supposed light side had pushed her away. At any rate, she had to agree that there were certain points in her side's cause that were worth fighting for. The number of pureblood families were certainly declining, partially due to the increase in the members of the opposite mingling with them. The importance of familial history was a priority, and impurity had to be purged. She wasn't just taking her sweet revenge, though that was certainly a bonus.

Hermione sighed. But all that was over anyway; there was no point spending so long thinking about it. She returned her attention to her current preparations as she carefully inserted a flower into her side chignon hairdo with her nimble fingers. She glanced toward the clock hanging on the wall. It read six twenty-eight. Draco was sure to be here any moment soon. After all, he'd always prided himself on his punctuality.

Just at that moment, a few quiet footsteps caught her attention. She swivelled around, only to find the boy in question smirking right behind her, partially hidden by the shadow casted by the large wardrobe. Speak of the devil and he would appear.

"I've always thought you were too silent for your own good," She grumbled good-naturedly, facing the boy. It was quite scary how he could enter people's rooms without them noticing, although to be fair to herself, she had been in rather deep thought. Now that he had stepped out from the shadow, she observed that Draco was wearing formal wizarding robes of black and grey, but with a red lapel. His hair was styled in that shaggy style she loved – thank goodness he had gotten out of that slicked-back phase. He held a beautiful bouquet of red and silver flowers in his left hand.

"The better to sneak up on you with, my dear," He replied, presenting her with the flowers as he raised her hand to his lips. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. It was fresh with just a small hint of minty tanginess – Draco's special touch. She loved it.

"You look wonderful, ma petit cherie," He complimented, "Enough to outshine my mum and aunt as the belle of the ball. I might just have to fill up your whole dance card."

"Oh, I do beseech you give me more credit than that, mon cher!" Hermione smiled, playing along, "You're assuming that I'd consent! I'm sure you'd leave part of the honour to my father?"

"I hate sharing, but I'll make an exception just this once," Draco answered with a smirk, though both knew that he hadn't a choice if he wanted to, though the situation was laughably unlikely. "Now will this beautiful lady allow me a kiss? I should hope so; I won't accept no as an answer!"

"What a gentleman you are," Hermione laughed, locking her eyes with his as they leant in toward each other. He lightly nibbled her lip for a while, before raising his head. A smirk was all Hermione saw before his lips crashed down on hers. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as she responded with equal roughness, tasting and sucking ruthlessly as a reward cum punishment. But when he began to tangle his hands into her hair, she pulled away.

"You're being too demanding," She stated calmly, reapplying a quick layer of lipstick on her slightly puffy lips. Two years ago, she would never have been able to regain her composure so quickly. Apparently, she had had too much experience lately.

Draco groaned, "Hermione, you're too good at lifting up peoples' hopes, only to let it crash down again."

"People?" Hermione sniffed disdainfully, "I, unlike some people, only pursuit one suitor at a time."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Draco winked, "You know that I only have you in my heart, dearest."

"Whoever said I was referring to you?" Hermione retorted, casting a spell to neaten her hair, "Your ego and imagination is just astounding."

"But you love me that way," Draco said, inching closer to the girl again. Hermione allowed him a small peck before turning to leave, "Now, let's go down. Father won't be pleased if we're late for our Christmas ball."

"All right," Draco finally relented, gesturing to the doorway with a mock bow, "Ladies first."

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched as they walked down the hallway that had become extremely familiar to her. She still remembered the first time she had been brought to her private quarters, and the occasions where she had gotten quite lost.

"Hermione, you do know that you're right outside my room, don't you?" an infuriating voice that she was starting to get used to comforted her, for that instance. Hermione turned around only to see Draco Malfoy smirking at her. "I know I'm charming, but we only just got re-acquainted a few days ago…"

Hermione blushed at what he was implying, "Just keep quiet!"

"All right," He shrugged nonchalantly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes remained there. "Lost your way again?"

"Perhaps if you were better at giving directions, I wouldn't be in this position!" Hermione retorted, trying to keep some of her dignity.

"Oh dear me, I'd better refresh your memory then," He drawled, "It wouldn't do you any good if you wandered into my parents' chamber when they're being intimate."

"Malfoy!" She chided, fighting to keep herself from turning red.

"Still quite the prude, aren't you?" He smirked yet again, "I'm surprised you didn't get it on with the potty or the weasel."

Hermione bit her lip for a moment as she watched the boy survey her reaction. She never really did get over the way their friendship had crumbled, but… they were the ones who had wronged her. She had to harden her heart; this was where she belonged now. "I don't care for them," She replied coolly.

Draco raised his eyebrows to that statement, but smiled wryly anyway, "In that case… let's give you a full tour of Malfoy Manor."

He had given her a proper tour of the place then. She suspected that theyhad sent Draco to make sure that she wasn't sent as a spy from the order, for she had answered many trick questions from him throughout the first few days. Aside from the house elves, he had been the only person to see her. A few days later, he had brought her to her first meeting with her father… who was also known as the Dark Lord. That encounter had ended up in her being given a pensieve and many bottles of her childhood memory.

They were shocking, to say the least. It was a surprise to have seen the greatest dark wizard of all time teaching her magic as a child or even more creepily, smiling at her mother… who was gone. Her mother had been in her memories, always smiling at the side and helping her when she couldn't catch up to her father's fast pace of teaching, since everything was theory and she couldn't practice a single spell for herself. She had had the crazy curls Hermione inherited.

And then… there had been the Slytherins in her memory as well. She'd been quite close with most of them, though mostly, she'd hung out with Draco. She realised that they had been quite good friends, at that time. Hermione smiled as she remembered a particularly sweet memory of her sixth birthday.

"Hermione, I've a present for you too!" Draco announced with pride in his voice.

Hermione's attention shifted from the great pile of presents she'd received to him, "What's it?"

"Open it yourself," He said proudly.

She couldn't fight her curiosity and did exactly that. Inside, the small parcel was a chain of paper snowflakes.

"Do you like it? I just thought that since you liked snow, but you can't get it during your birthday…" Draco's voice trailed off as he looked at the girl hopefully.

"I love it," Hermione smiled, hugging the boy.

According to the memories, she had immediately pestered her mother to help her hang it in her room. Neither Draco nor Hermione had known that the latter was to be sent off the following week…

"Hermione," Draco's voice jolted her back to the present again.

"Yes?" She turned her head to face him.

"Why are you smiling to yourself?" He asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow. It was an expression that Hermione had tried to learn, to no avail.

"I was just remembering how sweet you were when you were six, compared to now," Hermione teased.

"I was a charmer even then, wasn't I?" Draco smiled with pride, "But don't worry, I have a Christmas present for you this year as well…"

Draco's voice trailed off as the two of them reached the entrance of the ballroom. He offered her his hand, which she accepted gratefully. Hermione had never really gotten used to the polar extremes of personalities the Death Eaters exhibited. Sometimes, they were quiet and elegant… at other times they were loud and boisterous. Yet that was precisely why she felt she fit in.

Mimicking the proud, self-confident posture Draco currently adopted, Hermione walked through the open door with her other hand lifting the train of her dress.

"Hermione Riddle and Draco Malfoy," A female voice sounding like that of Narcissa's rang out clearly, as the both of them entered. Hermione took a quick glance at the ballroom. It was decorated in shades of silver and green, but with a smattering of red roses throughout the room – extremely different from the usual white and grey. Most of the heads in the room turned for a moment toward the pair as their names were announced, but a few seconds later, everyone went back to their own business.

"A change in decoration scheme?" Hermione questioned with a smile. She liked the current look of the ballroom much more than she did in the past. It reeked of Slytherin.

"We do have quite a lot to celebrate, don't we?" He answered, referring to their successful capture of Ronald Weasley; an attack that she'd provided information for… She felt another small twinge in her stomach for a moment.

"Yes... but let's not talk about such serious matters right now," Hermione said, changing the subject.

The last time they had talked about work-related matters like that… It hadn't been pleasant. But as her foster parents used to say, every cloud had a silver lining. She thought the saying applied to the incident very well.

"Damn it," Malfoy said, looking at the girl who'd started to cry before him. For the first time, Hermione saw fear and a slight hint of regret in his eyes.

She looked away the next moment. She couldn't bear to look at him. He'd just insulted her, and that particular insult had hit home. Was she a coward for trying to run away from everything? She was. If other people could tell, it definitely was true. When had she become so weak? Hermione couldn't help but let the tears fall down her face. Bill Weasley was dead. Her plan had been successful; the other side had been seriously affected.

Then, why did she feel so horrible? Was it because she'd personally known him? Hermione hugged her knees to her chest, as she sat herself on the bed.

"Go out," She said tiredly, without any bite in her voice.

Instead, Malfoy started to walk toward her, "Hermione, I was wrong. You're not a coward for running away from the facts. I probably would too."

She didn't answer. She was unused to the thought that Malfoy was trying to be nice.

"It's true," Malfoy said, "in fact, I don't know how you take it. I forgot that you knew them well. If I'd to do something similar to Crabbe, Goyle or even Pansy…"

Hermione flinched for a moment, as she felt a pair of warm, muscular arms wrap around her shoulders, in an embrace. She hadn't the strength to stop him. Besides, she didn't want to. it was comforting.

"It'll be fine, you'll get used to it." He said slowly, as Hermione started to cry into the crook of his shoulder.

That had been the first time Draco Malfoy was nice to her… and it was the first time she realised he wasn't a complete prat after their childhood years. Things had taken off from there, after that. Some near life-and-death situations with the boy had of course, helped to quicken the process. After a fortnight from that day, Hermione Riddle realised that she liked Draco… in that way.

"Very well, let's go to the garden," Draco said after a bit of a pause, inviting the girl to come along.

"The garden?" Hermione followed the boy anyway as they entered the garden that was enchanted to be in full bloom throughout the year. The beautiful collection of flowers let off a soothing fragrance that calmed Hermione down. The place was completely empty, except for the both of them. This was the garden where Hermione and Draco had often played in as young children and strolled in the past few years. The slow classical song from inside the ballroom could still be heard.

"May I have this dance, Hermione?" Draco bowed respectfully, smiling when Hermione accepted and held his outstretched hand. He was definitely up to something…dancing in the middle of a garden wasn't an everyday occurrence for them. But instead of placing his other hand on her waist, the boy reached into his pocket. Hermione watched with shock as Draco slid down gracefully onto his knee. Was he?

Hermione's considerable brainpower had been reduced to near nought for a moment, as the boy in front of her snapped open the box. Inside of it, lay a gleaming ring.

"I love you, Hermione. I love the way you smile, the way you don't hesitate to correct me, the way you make me feel happy, sad and angry at the same time… I could go on forever, but you'd probably stop me halfway and tell me to get to the point – and I love that about you too. Having you by my side is what completes me. I wish I could give you everything, but I hope that this ring is enough," Draco paused to take a slightly shaky breath, "Hermione Riddle, will you do the honour of becoming my wife?"

Hermione paused for a moment from an emotional overload. This was the boy she had been best friends with in during their childhood. He was the Slytherin she had been rivals with in school. Now, though, he was the man who supported her throughout her endeavours, and her lover-of-sorts. He was the one she often bickered and quarrelled with; the person who was always in her mind…for many different reasons throughout the years. He was an enigma. But, did she want him in her life? Yes.

"Yes," Hermione said softly as a few tears sprung into her eyes, "Yes," She repeated in a louder voice. Draco smiled as he removed the ring from the case, and carefully slid it onto her right ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Hermione looked at the beautiful, yet simple diamond ring with a large smile. The pure white diamond was that of a round brilliant cut – extremely priceless as a jewel. But what Hermione liked most about it was the snowflake pattern reflected by the light as she tilted the ring to the side. He had definitely planned that.

Draco stood himself up carefully as they leant into each other… One of his hands was on her right hand, the other wrapped tightly around her. She hugged his waist with her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the warm feeling. As Hermione looked up to look at him, he gently lifted her chin. She looked into his silver-grey eyes, her heartbeat quickening. He stared back at her as he pressed against her lips softly, yet firmly…

It was a gentle kiss; much unlike their usual roughness. Hermione continued to lay her head on the boy's shoulders, as they hugged. A few moments later though, she turned her head as someone caught her eye. A wizard in formal black wizarding robes, a hood over his face… her father. He had probably seen everything. Hermione couldn't help but beam with happiness. He returned the gesture with a nod and a curious little smile.

Sighing happily, Hermione snuggled deeper into the embrace. She didn't regret her choices at all. After all, she now had so much more than she did - people who respected and accepted her as one of themselves, a man who protected her and gave her power, and most importantly, a man she loved, who loved her as well.

A/N: Well... did you like this? I should hope so, since I spent so long writing it! Please tell me your thoughts in a review :D

Update: I'm actually quite interested in writing a multi-chap for this, since i have quite an insistent plot bunny. Would anyone of you like to see more of this AU?