She hesitated at one particular window, humming in thought as a wonderful idea invaded her head and encouraged to slip inside the shop. She headed directly over to the item that had caught her eye and thought of Draco; her mind already made up that she would need to have a word with McGonagall once she returned to Hogwarts, and that the item was perfect.
"Can I help you?" the clerk interrupted her musings.
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Can I have this, please?"
.
.
The Headmistress eyed her companion sceptically. "Miss Granger-
"I know this is a lot to ask," Hermione hushed the older witch. "But it's Christmas, and I think he needs it."
"I'm not sure I can-
"Just for an hour," she pushed tenaciously. "Please, Professor. There's nobody here anyway, and I promise that he won't try anything. I think he knows now that we are trying to help him."
"You can't be certain of that, Hermione," McGonagall replied in that wise tone of hers. "What if he-
"He has no wand," she argued. "He has no where to go, and he is…better now-
"Hermione-
"Look," she blurted, the desperation loud in her voice. "I will make sure that nothing goes wrong; I promise. You know I am capable."
McGonagall tilted her head and regarded her student with warming eyes. "Why are you doing him this favour?"
Hermione schooled her features to appear indifferent. "I just think he needs a break," she offered evenly. "And as I said; it's Christmas. You know, time of forgiveness."
The Headmistress seemed to toss that statement around in her head a couple of times before she released a long and yielding breath. "Very well."
"Really?" Hermione blinked with surprise. "It's okay?"
"I will probably regret this," McGonagall sighed, massaging her temple. "But yes, I will make arrangements so it's possible-
"Oh, thank you so much, Professor-
"But you will take sole responsibility should anything happen," she warned strictly. "You must ensure that Mr Malfoy doesn't try anything foolhardy-
"Of course-
"And this is a one-off," she continued, rising from her seat. "Make sure he knows that-
"I will," Hermione nodded eagerly, jumping up and nearing her mentor to embrace her in a grateful hug. "Thank you, Professor."
Minerva shifted awkwardly, but placed a comforting hand on her student's back and surrendered to a small smile. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."
.
.
Draco swore under his breath; tossing his third attempt in the sink and watching in swirl down the drain.
He'd had a craving for a coffee, but trying to imitate Granger's perfect cups of caffeinated goodness had proved unsuccessful and very frustrating. He had witnessed the witch make them countless times and had reasoned that it seemed simple enough, but evidently there was something missing, as he couldn't even get the colour correct. He was about to try again when she finally walked through the door two hours later than she normally did; her cheeks rosy with a winter blush, and her hair tousled by the wind.
She dropped her apparently heavy bags near the couch, and his stare lingered on her face, as it often seemed to do when she was oblivious to his presence. It was one of his many new and irritating habits that had decided to kick in since their lusty nights in her room had begun, but there was little point in resisting when he had already succumbed to his inappropriate desire to touch her. She must have heard the kettle starting its fourth boil because her eyes shifted over to him, and he scowled at her when she gave one of her bags a non-too-sly nudge behind the sofa.
"There's something wrong with this fucking kettle," he told her, pointing at the offending object.
"What do you mean?"
"I have tried, and it just doesn't taste like coffee," he explained, and the connotation that it actually didn't taste like the coffee she made hovered between them. "I flicked the switch and did all the stuff that you do-
"Did you add milk?" she asked, moving towards him.
"Of course."
"And two sugars?"
"Yes."
"Well, did you actually put the coffee in?" she questioned, smothering a grin when he simply tweaked an eyebrow at her. "It's in the blue tin in the top cupboard-
"This is ridiculous," he growled. "I shouldn't have to be degraded to doing such simple tasks the Muggle way."
He was in the mood to rile her up today; since they had begun killing nights together in forbidden bliss, she had become somewhat reserved and uncertain around him, and he hated it. If he had to select one reason he respected Granger, it would be her volatile temper, not unlike his own. When minutes passed like hours in this prison, her passionate opinions and skill to beat him down with witty words made the days…bearable, and something about the flicker of flames in her eyes when she was mid-rant made his groin jerk.
Combine that with his genuine agitation at being stuck in this dorm all day, and that she had apparently bought him something after he had specifically told her not to, and the scolding words simply tumbled out of his mouth.
"It's not degrading," she countered quickly, giving him a stern look that perked his interest. "This is how people do things without magic-
"Well it's a pain in my fucking neck!" he spat. "And just what the hell were you hiding behind the couch?"
"Nothing-
"I told you I didn't want anything! I swear, Granger, you just insist on making this more difficult-
"I'm making this difficult?" she repeated angrily. "Godric, you are such a selfish prick-
"I said I didn't want anything from you-
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