Work Text:
Draco Malfoy was conflicted. He barely avoided an argument at breakfast when his mother dared to ask what the problem was. There was no problem. Maybe just a slight inconvenience. And no, he was not overreacting. He was Draco Malfoy after all, the perfect picture of a confident and composed pureblood wizard.
He was the definition of collected and controlled. Most days at least. Although at the moment he was proving everyone who ever believed so wrong. He was pacing around his sitting room in circles, muttering to himself, pulling at his hair, and giving his mother and aunt motion sickness in the process. None of them dared to ask what was going on inside his head at that moment, they knew better than that, choosing to continue their tea date and trying to ignore him.
Damn you, Hermione Granger. Damn you for the bloody Secret Santa and everything this dumb muggle tradition stood for. And damn you for somehow letting him draw her name out of dozens of floating pieces of parchment. Out of their entire department. And oh yes, damn you for not letting him exchange the name.
What do you give someone you casually have an angry and absolutely delightful shag with from time to time? What in the bloody hell do you give a witch that you barely speak to unless you absolutely have to for the case purposes and then shove her against the bookshelf or over the desk and fuck senseless. The memory of their last case got him all hot and bothered for a moment there.
He walked out of the sitting room ignoring questioning looks from the remaining Black sisters and straight to the bathroom where he splashed his face with cold water. The memory of Hermione Granger screaming his name in the throes of passion while bent over his desk. He loosened the first button of his white dress shirt at the memory of a red mark in the shape of his hand on her luscious backside. She liked it heavy.
Draco exhaled sharply, this was not helping. It’s not like he could fuck her into the desk as a substitute for buying her a gift. It would be a glorious option but he knew better than suggesting that. The girl had a mean right hook.
He shook the memory of their third year and walked out of the bathroom and back to the sitting room.
“I need help, Mum!” he shouted desperately as he entered, startling his mother. She clearly didn’t expect another outburst. Fantastic, he was acting like a hormonal teenager again, although in his defence he didn’t have much time to do normal teenage stuff with Voldemort living is his house and all, “Sorry, mum,” he gritted through his teeth.
“What can I do for you, child?” she asked biting into canape size Victoria sponge cake. He grabbed one from the tray, deciding sugar was exactly what he needed right now.
“I love it when you call me ‘child’,” he murmured, “It’s like you had ten of me and forgot what’s my name.”
His mother didn’t look amused and kept eyeing him expectantly. So did her sister. They looked eerily alike despite the differences in appearance when they both looked at him like that with those big silver eyes and the royal air of casual interest. Blacks really were royalty amongst wizardkind. Not even Malfoys could pull that natural nonchalance. No, Malfoys were good at the power play. Blacks did not need that, they commanded the room by just one gesture, one sentence, or one condescending look. He was glad to be born into both families. Despite his display just moments ago he liked to think he had the advantage of being able to do both.
“So, there’s this Secret Santa thing –“ he started but stopped short as Narcissa leaned towards her sister for an explanation on the muggle tradition. He distracted himself by reaching for another Victoria sponge and waited for a hushed “Oooh, alright. That sounds fun!”
“So there’s that witch –“ he tried to continue.
“Oh, that’s getting interesting!” Andromeda exclaimed, “This calls for some wine!” and as she clapped her hands three Burgundy glasses floated in the air in front of each of them and a bottle appeared out of nowhere pouring the wine for them.
Draco regretted his decision to ask for the advice of two rich, bored middle-aged women with too much time on their hands. He should have asked Theo. Or Blaise. Or even goddamned Potter. Well, it was too late now, wasn’t it?
“Tell me about her, my sweet Dragon,” his mother said and took a sip of the crisp Pinot Noir from Malfoy vineyard in France. He, on the other hand, downed half his glass in one go. He shouldn’t be this nervous about this stupid gift-giving thing.
“There’s nothing to say…”
“Really, Draco? You're acting like your fifteen-year-old self when you didn’t know that to get Pansy for her birthday.” His mother chided.
They pinned him with their gaze again and he seriously contemplated just apparating on the spot straight to Theo’s sitting room. He would beg him for help if he had to. Maybe Potter would be there too, he could ask him then. And lose both his testicles in the process when Potter undoubtedly found out what he was doing to his best friend. No, not a good idea. Why did Theo have to go and start dating Potter out of all people?
“Alright, mother dearest. What do you give a woman you may or may not have slept with multiple times for Secret Santa. And no, don’t say jewellery, we have to buy it in under twenty galleon or make ourselves. What can I get for this that someone may actually like or enjoy? Stupid rules…” he knew he sounded pretentious, it’s been made clear to him on multiple occasions but he couldn’t just shrug his upbringing so easily. He was buying his socks custom made, for Salazar’s sake.
“But have you or have you not?” Andromeda asked unexpectedly.
“Have I what?”
“Slept with her, Draco. And do you intend to do it again, maybe make it all official? Does she want to make it official?”
“I – I don’t know…”
“You don’t know if you slept with her?” his mother asked stifling a laugh. Laugh at his expense, this hurt. He seriously considered just walking away and slamming the door on his way out. This was the worst idea he ever had. He was not supposed to discuss this with his mother and her sister. He was twenty-bloody-seven for Morgana’s sake, he was supposed to discuss this over a bottle of Firewhiskey with Blaise and Theo. He slapped his palm over his eyes and then exhaled heavily, ignoring the two women having the time of their life at his expense.
“I may want to see her again,” he braved, “but I think for her it’s all just casual.”
“We got this, darling. We will find out. What is she like?” his aunt asked.
“She – She is beautiful, smart, funny. Really hot-headed, she breaks my balls like no one else, yes mum, you included. I want to rip her throat out half the time – “
“ – and the other half you just want to rip her clothes off,” his aunt managed and both sisters roared in laughter that would be frowned upon in high society. He wished the earth to swallow him now. Why was he still here, again? It’s not like they were bloody helping.
“She reads a lot. I think she loves theatre and those moving picture thingies - what are they called – movies! That’s the one, she likes movies. She likes some sport called fool ball or some such,” he grimaced trying to remember.
“Football,” his aunt supplied absentmindedly and then realisation dawned on both witches. They bloody figured out that he was talking about Granger. Damn it, Malfoy! Apparently, he was as subtle as a horde of mountain trolls. To hell with Blacks and Malfoys and his upbringing. Granger was turning his composition and grace upside down.
“Yes, that.”
“I may have an idea, Draco,” his aunt winked conspiratorially. He contemplated running away screaming when he was met with two sets of grey eyes, ready for some recreational scheming but he schooled himself to remain calm. After all, if he didn’t like the idea he could always ask Potter. Oh, Merlin, where did his life go so wrong.
_____________
Draco felt ridiculous in the red sweater and Santa hat perched on top of his platinum locks. Bloody muggle traditions, so cheap.
He was halfway through downing his third glass of mulled wine and watching his co-workers mill around and drop their gifts on a large pile under the Christmas tree that reminded him of the giant firs that Hagrid used to decorate Great Hall with. He huffed and made his way towards the offending plant and cautiously dropped the little package on top of the pile. He briefly considered snatching it and removing himself permanently from the face of the earth.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” he heard Theo’s bored drawl over his left shoulder. Apparently his internal war was not as internal as he intended it to be. He had to get a grip, this was starting to get ridiculous.
“Right now or in general?”
“I’ll go for right now. There are so many things wrong with you in general that if I wanted to write about it I would run out of library space in the Manor.” Theo stated matter-of-factly and turned towards the little red and gold package on top of the pile. He snatched it so fast before Draco could even reach back for it that Malfoy heir momentarily wondered why Theo so adamantly refused to play seeker for Slytherin back in Hogwarts, “Oooh, now I know what got you all flustered and blushing,” he smiled wickedly and waved the present in front of Draco’s face.
None of them was proud of the scuffle that occurred next. Draco ignored few huffs of laughter nearby as he emerged victorious, clutching the gift to his chest and holding panting Theo at the arm’s length.
“Are you both alright?” asked new voice.
“No –“ huffed Theo
“Marvellous, why do you ask? –“ Draco shouted breathlessly at the same moment and to his utter dismay blushed profoundly.
Hermione Granger and Harry Potter stared at their two former school enemies questioningly. Old animosities might have been forgotten but it didn’t mean they were friends. Draco, Harry, and Hermione leaned more towards cold tolerance and no outward animosity. Of course, with Ginny married to Blaise Zabini and now Potter dating Theo they all had to eventually grow up. All except himself and Granger, of course. Unless you count occasional shag in the office growing up. To each their own.
Draco quickly dumped the package over his shoulder back into its previous place and sent Theo a condescending look. He tried to look as casual as panting, flustered, glaring daggers at Theo, and blushing Malfoy possibly could. Which meant not so much.
Granger looked incredibly sexy in her Christmas outfit. Her bushy brown hair was tamed by reindeer antlers headband, her cheeks smudged with faint glitter, and her lips deliciously coated with lip-gloss. He couldn’t help but lick his own lips just looking at those plump mouth. She wore a short green dress, styled to look like Santa’s elf outfit, finished with over knee red and green stockings. He swallowed audibly. Granger had fantastic legs and seeing them in that short skirt did things to him.
A few moments later he was pulled out of his reverie by Kingsley Shacklebolt announcing that it’s now time to deliver the gifts. He flourished his wand and packages large and small levitated and started floating in search of their recipients.
He couldn’t pull his gaze away from Hermione as she caught her gift mid-air. She opened it, blushed, squealed and looked around in confusion. Was she going to go for it. He certainly hoped she would. He didn’t want to make fool of himself. Again.
She read the card attached again and looked him straight in the eye. He was saved from any reaction as his own gift hit him squarely in the forehead.
_______________
A few days later.
This was not going to work.
There was no way in hell this was going to work.
Granger was sure to have figured out it was him and was laughing at him now over butterbeer with Potter instead.
How could he have been so foolish? This is what one gets when one takes dating advice from his mother and aunt. Who did that anyway? He should have known better.
Draco shook his head as he paced outside Capital Studios building in Wandsworth in muggle London. He lit a cigarette to keep his hands from fidgeting anxiously and inhaled deeply.
She will show up. She will show up. He was repeating that one sentence now like a mantra.
“I have to admit, this was very Slytherin of you,” her voice rang in his ears and he released shuddering breath. She showed up… “This isn’t usually how Secret Santa works, you should know,” she smirked.
“I hope I didn’t offend you in any way.” He looked at her suspiciously, “I realise this is highly irregular. If you want me to be gone, I’m gone faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’ and you can enjoy the experience. It’s just, you know, I’ve never seen one of those movies you and Potter keep talking about. Thought I’ll offer my company.” Oh Merlin, she only showed up to yell at him for this horrible idea he let his aunt talk him into. He should have gotten her twenty galleon gift card to Flourish and Blots.
“Oh no, Draco, that’s not what I mean at all. I’m rather impressed by your con. If you wanted to get me alone you should have just asked,” oh but it wasn’t all he wanted anymore, was it. He wanted more than a quickie in his office.
After a moment of awkward silence, he offered her his arm and led her into the building. They entered into a spacious lounge with leather furnishings scattered around, wooden floors, and slightly dimmed lighting. Static muggle posters decorated all of the walls and people were crowding around a long bar on the opposite side of the room. He tugged at her arm and led her towards it.
“Malfoy, what are we doing here?” she really was not catching on.
“Hermione, you're the smartest witch of our age. Did you not figure it out?”
“Well, I didn’t want to make assumptions,” she blushed faintly and accepted the glass of champagne he handed her.
“If someone hands you a movie-ticket-turned-portkey and leaves you a note that couldn’t be more telling –“
“ – ‘You have bewitched me, body and soul…’” she supplied for him in a voice so small it was barely audible. Her amber and gold eyes wide. He didn’t know the line but it fit perfectly so he didn’t argue with his aunt.
“Exactly. I think it’s safe to assume this person wants more than just a shag in the office,” now, he said it. Are you happy now, mother?
“Y – You do?”
“Yes but right now I want you to have a great time and tell me what you want to do about this mess I made after this date is through,” he braved a smile in her direction and resisted the urge to kiss her breathless. He wanted to be a perfect gentleman tonight. She needed to see another side of Draco Malfoy and she was in for a ride.
He led her gently with his hand on the small of her back through another door into a beautifully lit evergreen hedge maze, leading to a spacious garden. Hermione gasped by his side taking in the huge screen set up in a massive outdoor sitting area with comfortable cushions placed on the wooden patio. Large umbrellas with heaters sheltered all sitting areas from rain and cold. It was December in London after all. The Garden was surrounded by more evergreen hedges creating a cozy backyard feel.
“This is incredible. I’ve heard of it but could never find time to go…” she whispered and her eyes shone. It was all worth even if only for this reaction. He squeezed her hand and led her towards the cushions.
Once they were settled she rested her head on his shoulder and he felt bold enough to pull her closer, his hand rested on her hip.
All voices hushed and he startled when the screen went alive with colours and movement. The movie had started and he was quite eager to see what the fuss was about. Pride and Prejudice, the title said. The what? He was going to have chat with his aunt again. Yes, he was.