Disclaimer:
Don’t own them, sadly.
Dedication:
To Summer, for giving me the idea, and prodding me to finish this.
The
Greatest Gift
by
Annie
Adrienne
Hermione
Granger yawned, rubbed at her eyes, and blindly felt around on the bedside
table for her
glasses.
She sighed, realizing that they weren’t there, and gingerly stepped off
the bed, searching the
ground
with her hands. Grinning as they set on a pair of eyeglasses, she set them
on her nose, blinking
as
the world around her came into focus.
Lavender
must have come home smashed again, and knocked her glasses off the table.
The girl had
gotten
a real drinking problem in sixth year, never letting a weekend go by without
disgusting amounts
of
muggle liquor, and while Hermione worried about her, there wasn’t too much
that she could do.
As
Head Girl, she probably should have reported her- but Lavender was one
of her best friends.
Well,
as much as she could call a friend, anyway. She probably spent more time
around bloody Draco
Malfoy
then she did her- but that was the price of being who she was.
Hermione
stood, stretching her arms above her head and glancing over to her calendar,
lying on the
chair
in its usual spot. “Accio.” she mumbled, letting out another yawn
as the book flew into her hand.
It
flipped through a few filled pages, landing on one about halfway in, simply
marked ‘today’.
“Hmm…
lets see. Study for herbology chapter final, remind Harry and Ron about
their detention
tomorrow
and… birthday?” she frowned, staring down at the page. That couldn’t be
right. It couldn’t
be
December 15th already… could it?
She
sighed as an owl flew into her window, loaded down with parcels that looked
suspiciously
gift-wrapped.
From her parents, no doubt… it really was her birthday. Petting
the little owl’s head,
and
detaching it from the ribbons it seemed to have gotten caught in, Hermione
looked around the
seventh
year’s chamber. Lavender was sprawled across the end of Pavrati’s bed,
confirming
Hermione’s
assumption that the girls had went into Hogsmeade last night. She shook
her head.
Slipping
a burgundy bathrobe over her shoulders, Hermione stepped out of the bedroom,
wincing
as
her feet touched the cold stone stairway.
“Accio
slippers.” she whispered, keeping her voice down for the boy’s sake.
Two fluffy white
bunny
slippers hopped out of the bedroom obediently, stopping in front of her
feet. She chuckled,
stepping
into them and continuing down the stairway.
Looking
around the Gryffindor common room, she found a fire already roaring in
the grand stone
fireplace,
the couches and chairs still clustered together from last night. There
was no better way, in
her
opinion, to start what was looking to be an absolutely smashing birthday
with a bit of nap.
Walking
around closer to the fire, she couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the
surprise occupants of
a
large, canary yellow couch. Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey were curled
up together, obvious
years
of sexual tension finally having come to a head. Winter did strange things
to people.
“Colin!
Ginny!” she whispered harshly, hoping to wake them up with only her tone.
They happily
surprised
her, both instantly snapping to attention and then flushing bright red
at the sight of her.
“Hermione-”
“We
swear, it’s not what it-”
“Quiet!”
she told them, affecting a stern glare. “As Head Girl, to be perfectly
honest, I should be
taking
away serious points for this…”
“Oh
come on, Hermione, we fell asleep!” Colin protested, sharing a worried
look with Ginny, who
was
equally, if not more horrified. She prided herself on a pristine reputation-
her brothers had brought
more
than enough infamy to the family name.
“…
but I won’t.” Hermione finished, grinning at the new couple. “It’s my birthday,
I’m feeling lenient.
Now
get upstairs, before Professor McGonagall wakes up and I have to change
my mind.”
Colin
and Ginny shared an amazed, look, both turning back to her. She only laughed,
nodding towards
the
stairs. Colin sprung into action, sprinting up to the sixth year’s bedrooms,
though Ginny hesitated
for
a moment.
“Happy
birthday, Mione.” She said cheerily, leaning forward and pecking her close
friend on the
cheek.
Hermione smiled after her, waiting until she was out of sight, and then
claiming the couch for
herself,
staring lazily into the flickering flames.
This
common room didn’t much seem like home to her, anymore at least. She spent
most of her time
in
her private study- well, semi private. She did have to share it with Draco
Malfoy, who inexplicably
had
become Head Boy. His father had probably paid his way to it, though she
did have to admit he
had
quite a head about him. Quite a large head. But that, she supposed, was
part of his ‘charm’.
After
a few peaceful minutes, the other Gryffindors started to wake up, emerging
from the stairway in
groups
of threes and fours, boys meeting up with girls and then continuing to
breakfast. Hermione
didn’t
want to eat. She couldn’t wait to find out what the day would hold-
“Mione!”
a very familiar boy’s voice called, and she turned around to face the stairwell,
grinning at the
sight
of a disgruntled-looking Harry and Ron.
“Up
a little late, are we?” she asked, glancing at the old oak grandfather
clock. It was twelve already,
but
she couldn’t blame them. It was Saturday, after all.
“We
needed to rest up.” Harry laughed.
“Today’s
a very special day!” Ron told her with a cheeky grin, as they stepped outside
of the common
room
and headed down one of the staircases. Hermione couldn’t help but smile.
Today was a special
day
indeed… she was eighteen! Most of the other seventh-years had had their
birthdays already… she
was
one of the youngest in the grade.
“So
what’s so special about today, then?” she prompted, turning towards the
boys as they entered the
dining
hall. Ron’s mouth dropped wide open.
“You
don’t know?”
“Well,
of course I-”
“It’s
the start of the bloody Quidditch finals, Hermione! Cannons v. Wasps! That’s
not something you
forget.”
Ron said hotly. Harry rolled his eyes, pushing a bit of his unruly black
hair back from his face.
“Don’t
get all bothered about it, Ron. She’s a girl. You can’t expect her to know.”
The
boys sat down at the Gryffindor table, instantly digging in as soon as
food appeared on their plates.
Arguing
heatedly about Quidditch, it took them a few minutes to notice Hermione
hadn’t joined them.
“Where
do you reckon she’s went off to?” Ron asked, mouth half full of oatmeal.
“I
dunno. Silly, why would she come down if she didn’t want to eat breakfast?”
Almost
simultaneously, their eyes flew towards the small red envelope that had
appeared on Hermione’s
plate.
Standing as quickly as they could, they backed away from it, heading towards
the door. It zoomed
after
them.
“Uh…
Harry… you don’t suppose the Dursleys have learned how to use owl post,
do you?”
“No
chance of that…” Harry replied, still eyeing the Howler that was beginning
to smoke at the edges.
“My
mum’s off visiting Charlie-”
“IT’S
MY BIRTHDAY, YOU BLOODY IDIOTS! YOU THINK SOME QUIDDITCH CUP IS
MORE
IMPORTANT THAN YOUR BEST FRIEND? YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED! AND
WHERE
DO YOU GET OFF SAYING THAT ONLY BECAUSE I’M A-”
Hermione
ran as fast as she could, trying to ignore the frozen ball of fury growing
in the pit of her
stomach.
Making that Howler had helped release a bit of it, but she still couldn’t
believe- couldn’t
believe
they’d forget. What had she done for Harry’s birthday? And Ron’s? Everything
in her power,
that’s
what, and they hadn’t even bothered with a card on hers. But it wasn’t
just that. It always
seemed
like she was supporting them- helping them with everything from girls to
potions, and getting
nothing
but the ‘honor’ of their friendship in return. If one could even call it
friendship.
She
burst into the study, slowing down instantly when the few early-rising
paintings looked strangely
at
her. They quickly returned to their work, though- they were used to her
by now. She walked over
to
one of the bookcases and grabbed a random paperback off the shelf, not
bothering to look at the
title.
Trying to keep tears from welling up in her eyes, she ran over to one of
the clusters of couches
in
the corner, burying her nose in it as quickly as possible.
She
failed to notice who had been napping in the overstuffed armchair a few
feet away.
“Here
so early, Granger? This must be a record, even for you.” Draco snickered,
standing and moving
to
the armchair directly across from her. She scowled darkly at him, which
was fairly intimidating in her
current
mood.
“Bugger
off, Malfoy.”
“When
I can annoy you? On your birthday no less?”
“I
said leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing her book at him. He narrowly
dodged it, and she
blushed
bright red at the stares they’d attracted from the paintings. They weren’t
used to loud noise- at
least
not of late. “What are you doing here anyway, Malfoy? No errands to run
for You-Know-Who?”
“I
should bloody hope not.” He huffed, turning around to face the fire. “It
being the holidays and all.
After
all, this is my study too.”
“I
would think he’d have something extra special planned for this time of
year.” She sneered, “You
know,
suck all the cheer out of everything fun. Like a few other people I could
mention.”
“Ha!
That’s why you’re in such a bloody awful mood this morning. Weasel and
Potter forgot it’s your
birthday,
didn’t they?”
“None
of your business.” She huffed, staring down at her book. After a split
second she looked up
at
him. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
“Are
you kidding? You could have heard that Howler from miles away. Just the
bloody thing to wake
a
man up in the morning, your whining- I pity your husband.”
“That
is it!” she shrieked, jumping out of her chair and on top of him.
They fell to the floor, hidden
by
the couch, rolling around as Hermione wildly tried to strike him. He quickly
overpowered her, and
pinned
her to the ground, looking into her blazing brown eyes. And after an awkward
moment of
staring,
punctured by their heavy panting, she burst out into tears.
He
quickly got off of her, helping her back on the couch with a perfunctory
glare at the paintings.
They
hurriedly went back to their books, knowing full well his temper.
“What
is it, Hermione- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, wincing as she pushed
his hand away from
her
shoulder. As much as he may talk about dueling- the thought of hurting
a girl absolutely revolted
him.
Just another way to be like his father.
After
a few moments her tears subsided, and she looked up at him, the fire burning
in her eyes now
reduced
to a pitiful smolder. He sighed, and she allowed him to touch her, putting
a comforting arm
around
her shoulder.
“Sorry.”
He said, sincerely. She sighed.
“Not
your fault. Stupid boys.”
“Not
all of us are stupid.” He laughed, pretending to be offended. “After all-
I didn’t forget it was
your
birthday, did I?”
“What
do you mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He reached into the pocket
of his robes,
withdrawing
a small brown package.
“We’ve
been going to school together for seven years, Hermione. Head Boy and Girl.
You didn’t
honestly
think I wouldn’t get you anything?”
She
huffed, unwrapping the box and willing her hands to stay steady. He was
right, of course- she
knew
his birthday too. January 27th. But to think he’d-
Her
mind blanked at the contents of the box, though in the back of her mind
she realized the ‘Flourish
and
Blotts’engraved on the top should have given him away. Gingerly, she reached
down and lifted
his
gift from the tissue paper, twirling the gleaming golden quill in her trembling
hands.
“Solid
gold.” He said, with a pleased smile. “You need something to write your
job applications with.
And
don’t think I haven’t seen you here, poring over them hour after hour.
You barely had time to
plan
the Autumn Dance-”
He
was cut off as she looked up from the box, flinging her arms around him
in one of the only true hugs
he’d
ever felt. He reveled in the smell of her waves of golden-brown hair, wanting
to badly to touch it-
oh,
what the hell. He hastily ran a hand through it, smiling when she pulled
back, but not away from him.
“Thank
you, Draco.” She whispered, what he thought were fresh tears glistening
in her eyes. He stared
into
them, not quite able to comprehend the feelings that had suddenly taken
hold of him.
The
feelings he had for Hermione Granger, not quite his friend, but always
a constant in his usually
tedious
life. The fact that after this school year was over, they’d probably never
see each other again- he
could
only imagine what the owl would be like. ‘Um, Hermione, this may sound
strange, but I rather miss
you
screaming at me for not keeping the study neat. Do you think you could
send me a Howler? And
maybe
get Weasley (whichever one) to send some of those Wizard Wheezes over-’
He had to try very
hard
not to laugh at that thought.
Working
together this year, they’d grown much closer than he had to almost anyone
at the school-
barring
Professor Snape, perhaps- she was the sister he’d never had, nor wanted.
But now, he couldn’t
help
think she was more than that-
She
smirked at him, her mood changing in a flash as usual. “And if you think
this means I’m going to
get
McGonagall to write you a letter of recommendation-”
“Come
on, Hermione. There’s no way I’ll get to work at Gringotts without it-”
“Well
that’s all the better then, isn’t it? I won’t have to deal with any more
of you after this year.” She
snickered.
He
pretended to look hurt.
“Don’t
say you won’t miss me, Hermione.”
“I-”
she looked into his eyes, quickly seeing past the layer of pretend amusement
to the hurt. He’d
always
had such sad eyes… as long as she’d known him. “-may miss you just a little
bit. You know,
who
am I to clean up after?”
He
grinned, standing and grabbing her hand, surprising the hell out of her.
He seemed almost- cheerful.
How
frightening.
“Let’s
go to the Three Broomsticks for breakfast. Just this once.”
“Draco-”
she began, only to be cut off.
“Hermione,
my girl, where’s your sense of adventure?” he led her to the door, taking
her out into the
hallway,
deaf to her protests.
“My
sense of adventure is right next to my undying passion for you.” She shot
back dryly, once she’d
given
up fighting him. Physically, at least. He turned to her, a mischievous
glint in his fabulously azure
eyes.
“Well
then- maybe I’ll have to go on a little journey to find them both.”
He
wrapped an arm around her waist, and leaned down to capture her lips in
a kiss, throwing her into
a
complete state of shock. After a moment of recovery, quite surprising herself,
she replied in kind.
It
was her birthday, after all.
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