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The one thing Draco Malfoy hated more than Christmas was snow. Snow was messy. Snow was inconvenient. Snow had a habit of ruining your plans, causing delays, and generally making you damp.
He trudged through the falling flakes back to the castle, carrying a bag of gifts he'd delayed picking up from the Hogsmeade owlery for over a week, now out of time and out of excuses for not sending his parents gifts.
Did he mention he hated Christmas?
Christmas was just another day of the week, according to Draco. Buying and receiving gifts was simply a side effect of a condition — the condition called The Christmas Spirit.
So not only was it Christmas, but it was also snowing. Two of Draco's least favorite things happening together.
He darted into a side entrance off the courtyard, shaking off the snow and casting charms to dry off. He headed to the abandoned tower that had been converted into the 8th year dormitories, and stumbled across his third and fourth least favorite things — crying girls and Hermione Granger.
She was curled up behind a suit of armor, sniffling into her scarf, wiping her wet cheeks furiously the second she saw him turn the corner.
Draco rolled his eyes and moved past her without a word. He couldn't even enjoy her misery — he was so irritated by his other three least favorite things.
He entered the 8th years' common room and shuffled past the drunken carol singing. He grabbed a mug of something spicy and warm and ignored Theo's call to him, marching up the stairs to the dormitory he was forced to share with all the other boys, including The Boy Wonder and—
"Ron," a female voice moaned low in the dim light.
Draco wrinkled his nose. Not a terribly exciting name to moan.
Two figures moved in Weasley's bed, a lit orb inside casting shadows on the closed curtains. Someone with fantastic tits was bouncing on him, sighing softly.
Draco stomped to his bed across the room and threw down his packages with as much noise as soggy paper bags could make.
"Oi!" Weasley called out. "I had my tie on the door!"
"Don't let me interrupt," Draco said.
He unpacked his bags loudly, whistling "Good King Wenceslas." Behind him, the couple huffed and grumbled as they dismounted each other and began reaching for their clothes. He peeked over his shoulder as they swept from the room, eager to see who was sporting that rack. It was a 7th year girl from Hufflepuff.
What she was doing with a Weasley was beyond him.
He cast wrapping charms on his parents' gifts — a book for his mother about cookie decorating or some such nonsense and a new set of quills for his father, like every year — and shrugged out of his wet cloak and scarf. Once they were wrapped, he grabbed the gifts and carried them downstairs, stopping for a shot of Firewhisky that he chased with more of the warm mulled cider.
It wasn't until he passed through the crowded party and approached the blubbering bundle of Hermione Granger again that Draco realized that Weasley was shagging some Hufflepuff girl when he was supposed to be shacking up with Granger at the end of the school year.
His feet stopped in front of her, and he stared down at her bushy head with a curious gaze.
"What?" she snapped, the word muffled against her sleeve.
Draco checked his watch. No time for this. He turned on his heel and headed to the owlery to send the gifts. They'd get them after Christmas dinner, but he couldn't be arsed to care.
It was still snowing on the castle, and any Warming Charms on the owlery had faded in the chill. He shivered as he tied the parcel to his eagle owl, and then ran back down the steps, wondering what to do with his evening. He wasn't in the mood to watch Potter and the Weasley chit snog their way through the common room party, and he couldn't close himself behind his bed curtains if Weaselbee was going to be grunting and fucking his way through the 7th years.
When his feet carried him back towards the tower, and Hermione Granger was still sitting crying in the hallway, he tried the one thing that always made him feel better.
"Don't be too upset, Granger. She has an incredible rack. It was really no competition to begin with."
Her shoulders stiffened. She lifted her head. "Excuse me?"
He was momentarily transfixed by the flush to her cheeks and her wet nose.
"I just mean, she's clearly built for fucking. And you're…" He waved vaguely at her. "You." He smirked.
He could almost see the steam rising from her skin. She clenched her jaw and braced herself on the wall to stand.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"All I'm saying is— what did you expect?" He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "If you don't have the body to keep their interest, you at least have to put out. And I'm sure that was out of the question for you."
"You're disgusting, Malfoy. Not that you would understand a solid relationship, built around trust and respect—"
"I understand men, Granger. Something you'll never comprehend—"
"—because when you love someone, when you make promises to someone—"
"You can't get an eighteen-year-old boy to make promises, Granger. What an idiotic thing to say."
"We promised to wait!" she screeched. "We were waiting until after school was done! We promised—"
"Listen," he said softly, stepping into her and knitting his brows together in as compassionately as he could muster. "Granger, I get it." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked down at it in shock. "But if you make a bloke wait for it, you have to at least suck him off in the meantime. Or he'll find someone else to scratch that itch."
Her head snapped up, glaring at him as he smiled down at her. Her arm was quick, reaching up for a swift slap that cracked his head to the side. His eyes rattled in their sockets, and his pulse spiked.
She shoved him away from her and bent to grab up her bag and cloak from the floor. Her breath was harsh, tears springing fresh her eyes.
His cheek smarted as he watched her disappear down the hall, but it couldn't stop the grin crossing his face. Something was off though. Somehow it felt like less of a victory. He was itching for an argument, not more crying.
Sighing, he retreated back to the common room, grabbing a bottle of Firewhisky for himself. He drank and played cards until late into the evening, ignoring the Christmas songs playing in the background and shaking off the feeling like he was waiting for someone to come through the portrait hole.
He passed out in front of the fireplace, an empty bottle in one hand.
~*~
There were soft fingers on his chest, and someone moving next to him in the bed. He snuggled into his pillow, surprised he didn't have a headache from the alcohol. He lay on his back, pressing his eyes closed against the morning light.
He started to drift back to sleep just as a pair of lips kissed the skin of his stomach.
Now this was a dream he could get used to. His lips twitched as the lips kissed lower, a body shimmying down his front. He felt her hair brushing his belly, her tongue flicking out at his hipbone.
His cock was already awake, growing heavy against his thigh. A small hand gripped him softly and stroked over the skin. He hummed, stretching his arm behind his head.
The first press of her mouth to his head had his stomach tightening, his lips parting. His brain seemed to turn on as he began to wonder if this was truly a dream. But when she pressed her wet tongue just under his head and her lips began to suck lightly at the tip, he knew there was no girl at Hogwarts who could give head this good.
And when his eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar bedroom, deep burgundy curtains on the windows and dark cherrywood furniture, he confirmed — dream.
But it was the sight of Hermione Granger's eyes looking up at him as his cock pushed past her lips, her tongue swirling and her cheeks hollowing around him… That was all the confirmation he needed.
He'd definitely had this dream before.
Only she was heavenly with her mouth in this one. He stared at her with lazy eyes as she took him deeper, bobbing her head over him. She popped off with a smile and whispered, "Happy Christmas, love."
Draco gave her a lust-drunk smile. Maybe Christmas wasn't the worst day of the year after all.
She sat up tall over his legs and pushed her hair back from her face, stretching her arms over her head and bringing attention to the most scrumptious pair of tits he'd ever laid eyes on.
His cock jumped. He swallowed.
There was something… something not quite right. Like he was looking at her through a window pane or a pair of blurry specs. This girl looked like she was Hermione Granger's older sister.
She climbed forward, straddling his hips and gripping him with one hand.
Something itched at the back of his mind. But his brain was fogged with lust and the delicious visual of Granger's naked body, sitting astride him, lining his cock up with her cunt.
Fuck, he could live inside that cunt.
His mouth dropped open, his eyes starting to roll back as she lowered down on him. He reached forward for her hips, and when he found real, solid flesh under his fingertips, he almost jolted up.
She rolled her hips, and he groaned.
"Shh." She laughed silently. "We can be quick."
Her body rose over him, sliding back down his cock, her hips twisting at the end. "Oh fuck—"
"Shh!" she hushed him with a deep smile on her face.
That face that wasn't quite right.
But his cock didn't get the memo. She rolled her hips twice more, and the pressure in his groin escalated. He moaned, and just before his release, he realized he was coming inside of Hermione Granger — and his eyes crossed, his fingers squeezed her hips, and he came harder than ever in his life.
When the pleasure started to drain out of him, he realized two things. First, there was no way this was a dream if he'd just come in less than a minute inside of a girl. And second, Granger had her hand pressed over her mouth, hiding her astonished smile — his dick softening inside of her.
"Um… Alright." She laughed.
His mind shook free of the fog of lust. He'd just shot his load inside of Hermione Granger. After a handful of thrusts. His thoughts raced — Was she on a potion? How did she get into my bed? What bed is this? Where did she learn to give head like that?
She climbed off of him and leaned down to his face. "You're going to owe me. Big time."
And then she kissed him. Her tongue swept into his mouth. His eyes were wide open in horror.
As she delivered the most incredible kiss of his life, her hand reached for his, bringing his fingers to her core. "Please, baby," she whispered against his lips.
Draco jerked back, finally coming to his senses a bit. He scrambled back from the Gryffindor with the perfect tits and tight, fuckable cunt, and pulled the covers up to his chest. "What's going on?" he squeaked.
She tilted her head at him, and he watched her curls fall over her shoulder. They were… sexy. Wild, but silky.
The door burst open and Draco yelped, kicking and fumbling to cover himself as a clash of sounds hit his ears.
"Daddy! Mama!"
"Christmas!"
Draco fell off the bed as two gremlins came running into the room. Granger quickly grabbed the comforter and spared them the sight of her naked body.
"Eloise! Daniel!" said Granger in mock surprise. "What are you doing awake! Santa Claus won't stop for children who don't let their mummy and daddy sleep!"
"Santa is already here! That's what Daniel and I come to tell you!"
Draco watched in terror as the two children climbed up on the bed — the bed where Hermione Granger had just fucked his brains out — and started scaling Granger like a mountain — Granger, the person he'd just come inside of.
The little boy peeked over the side of the mattress and said, "What daddy on the floor for?"
Draco's eye twitched.
"You scared Daddy!" Granger said, pressing her nose into the little girl's neck, giving her five quick pecks.
"Silly daddy," the boy said.
Draco sneered at him. He giggled.
"Daniel, Eloise. Go get your slippers on, and we'll go downstairs to open presents."
Faster than they'd come in, the little monsters jumped off the bed and ran out, babbling.
Draco felt his chest rising and falling. Perhaps he'd hit his head.
Granger leaned over the side of the bed and peered at him. "Darling, are you alright?"
Draco stared up at her, momentarily distracted by her still-naked chest. "Yes," he squeaked. "I'll just use the toilet and meet you downstairs."
"Alright." Granger crawled off the bed and dropped the sheets. Draco had a spectacular view of her arse before she slipped into a dressing gown and left the room.
He jumped to his feet, searching for clothing and racking his brains for answers. Maybe he'd fallen asleep and woken up in Ron Weasley's body, as terrible as the idea was. Draco tugged on the pajama bottoms he found and ran to the bathroom. He stumbled to a stop when he saw his own face gaping at him.
He was... taller? No, shorter? Blonder? He couldn't tell, but something was wrong. He had stubble. His chest was broad and defined. He looked… quite fetching, to be honest.
He pulled open the waist of his pajamas and took a closer look at his business below. Everything was… very impressive.
If this was what he looked like, he could definitely get used to it.
No, no. He refused to get used to any reality where Granger's children called him Daddy. Draco slapped his cheeks, trying to wake himself up.
A voice called from far away — "Draco, darling. The children won't wait much longer!"
He closed his eyes. She'd called him "Draco." So she knew what was going on. She wasn't confusing him with someone else.
Draco searched through the dresser for a shirt to put on, pausing over an entire drawer of lace knickers and bras with little in the way of fabric. These were the things Granger wore for him?
His cock stirred. He bit down on his tongue until the pain drained away his arousal.
Grabbing a shirt from a drawer, he took one last glance in the mirror, finding the words World's Best Seeker emblazoned across his chest. He smirked. Maybe this wasn't the worst reality.
He exited the bedroom door, finding a completely unfamiliar house. Walking down the hallway covered in photographs of those children, he wondered where it was they were living?
He stopped at the top of the stairs where a picture hung of Granger in a white gown draped low down her back. He stood with her, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes closed, smiling and dancing.
Shaking his head free of the questions, he descended the stairs, facing down an enormous Christmas tree. It stretched up to the arched ceiling, covered in handmade ornaments and tinsel. Fairy lights blinked inside of it, and it filled the room with the smell of fresh pine.
Underneath it, sat Granger with the girl in her lap, and the boy bouncing on his feet.
"Daddy! Hurry! Why you late?"
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, not quite sure what to do with himself. Granger tilted her head at him with a strange look and patted the ground next to her.
Like a man walking to the Dementors, Draco seated himself on the floor and tried to understand what the boy was saying to him.
"—one for me, one for Eloise, one for Mummy, one for Daddy. Then two for me, two for Eloise—"
He pronounced Eloise, Eh-woh-weez. Draco's eye twitched again.
The boy had a little Santa hat on his head as he distributed, dumping wrapped presents into Draco's lap. The little girl pouted and whispered to Granger that she wanted to be Santa next year.
Draco watched Granger press her face into the girl's neck and blow a raspberry until she giggled.
He needed caffeine.
The sound of wrapping paper ripping. Draco turned to find the boy pulling a toddler broomstick out of the paper. He squealed.
"Not fair! NOT FAIR!" the girl screamed.
Draco stared at her with wide eyes, unaware something so loud could come from something so small.
"Eloise, open yours!" Granger grabbed a broom-shaped gift from under the tree, and the girl ripped at it like a vulture clawing apart its dinner.
The two children screamed and laughed and begged to fly their brooms at once. Draco's head pounded.
"Later!" Granger said. "Perhaps the World's Best Seeker can teach you." She winked at him. "Where on earth did you find that stupid old shirt."
"Uh-oh. Mummy said the S-word."
Draco frowned at the girl in Granger's lap. "She most certainly did not. She said 'stupid,' not the S-word—"
"Daddy!" The children giggled.
Granger hit his thigh playfully. "Draco, we agreed! No S-word." She squeezed the girl in her lap. "Now Mummy and Daddy have to add two Sickles to the Swear Jar!"
Draco lifted a brow at her. Only Hermione Granger could make the word "stupid" taboo in her own house.
"Daddy's turn!" The boy crawled toward him, starting to rip the wrapping paper off his gift.
"Oi!" Draco snapped his present back. "It's my gift. I unwrap it."
The boy pouted.
"Draco, what's wrong with you?" Granger whispered.
So many things.
He sighed and extended the gift to the child. Daniel, or whoever, beamed brightly and shredded the paper.
A box fell out, and Daniel extended it to him, eager to see what it was. Draco opened the lid and found a wristwatch, but instead of second, minute, and hour hands, there were four faces staring up at him, all pointed to "Home."
He recognized it, having seen quite a few grandfather clocks with the same.
"I know you've been worried about sending Eloise to Creature Camp, so this way you'll always know where we are at all times." Granger smiled at him.
Draco stared at her. He looked back down to the watch. He didn't know what "Creature Camp" was, but he didn't like the sound of it — even for his fever-dream children.
The face of the watch listed Home, School, Work, Traveling, Lost, Hospital, Prison, and Mortal Peril. He didn't know quite what to make of it.
"It's like Molly and Arthur's," Granger continued. "You… you said you fancied it when we were there last."
Draco looked up. Granger was staring at him with raised brows, an anxious look on her face. It hit Draco all of a sudden — she wanted to know if he liked it.
"It's great. Thank you."
She smiled, and his eyes caught on the way her nose crinkled. She had freckles at school. He wondered what happened to them.
"That was boring," Eloise said. "Is it time for Mummy's?"
Granger extended her gift to Daniel and let him unwrap it for her. It was a book. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course he'd gotten Hermione Granger a book for Christmas. Couldn't the alternate reality of himself do any better than cliché?
She smiled at it and opened the cover, and Draco watched two tickets fall into her lap. Granger picked them up and gasped.
"Australia?" Her eyes glittered at him. "You'll fly with me? Really?"
Once Draco realized she was expecting an answer, he nodded. "Sure." She let out a cross between a squeal and a laugh and threw herself at him, winding her arms around his neck. He patted her ribs once.
"I can't believe I got Draco Malfoy to agree to fly on an aeroplane!" she yelled into his ear, delighted with herself.
Draco had no idea what an aeroplane was, but he was certain that it must be terrifying if even in this reality he put up a fight.
Granger pulled back and rubbed her nose against his before covering his mouth with hers. He was just getting accustomed to the sensation when her hands threaded into the hair at the base of his neck and she tilted her head to deepen the kiss.
Draco's eyes shot open, looking over her shoulder at their—her children. They were happily tearing at their next presents as Granger's tongue swept over his lips, a low hum pouring from her throat.
Had she no decency? There were impressionable youths in the room!
She leaned back, pecking his lips once more and fluttered her eyes open — brown, maybe hazel.
"I love you."
He stared at her, his heart thumping aggressively up into his throat. He swallowed.
The full weight of Hermione Granger's passion and adoration caught him like a blow to the gut. She pressed her lips to his again before slipping away, returning to the toddlers and laughing as they screamed about something called a "play station." She brushed her lashes and grinned at him.
Draco had to get out of here.
He stood, excusing himself down the hall quickly. Granger yelled after him, something about the kettle.
Draco walked into an airy kitchen — nothing like he'd seen at the Manor or at other estates. This one was open and light, with robin's egg wallpaper and a table with only four chairs. He looked out the back window and found a small garden, but still no sign of what city or even country they were in.
He opened the backdoor and peered around the corner. The air was falling below freezing, but he couldn't hear a road nearby. Unlucky. He could have made a run for it.
Leave it to Granger to lock him in a house in the country with no sign of his sanity.
He shut the door and turned to a cluster of photographs on the wall. She was pregnant in one. He had his arms around her from behind and her face was turned up to his. In another, the Eloise child was having a sloppy meal, beaming at the camera from her highchair and shoveling more into her mouth.
Disgusting. And there were no elves to clean it up.
"Daddy!"
He spun, reaching for a wand and finding himself defenseless against the boy-child as he tottered toward his knees like a rolling boulder.
"Thank you for my Pee-Ess-Two. We can play games now?"
Draco blinked down at him. P. S. Two?
"Not yet, Daniel!" Granger's voice called. "We have to get dressed for Grandma's!"
Daniel beamed and reached his arms up, stretching up for— something.
His fingers reached high, like he wanted Draco to…something.
"What?" Draco snapped.
"Up! Daddy!"
Draco's lip curled.
"Funny faces, Daddy."
Something struck him. Grandma's?
"Granger!" he bellowed. "Whose parents?"
"What?" Her voice came from up the stairs.
"Whose parents? Mine or yours?"
There was a pause. Daniel tried to climb his leg.
"What do you… Yours, of course," Granger called back.
Thank Merlin, Draco thought, as Daniel dragged over a chair to stand on. His father would know what to do.
Daniel jumped on his waist like a monkey, but Draco was too distracted to care.
Lucius Malfoy wouldn't stand for this— this— disturbing turn of events.
Draco walked out of the kitchen, heading back for the stairs, hardly noticing the child hanging from his t-shirt screaming, "UP, DADDY, UP!"
~*~
After a chaotic hour of figuring out what clothes he could dress in and how to operate the taps in the Muggle shower, they were dressed and ready to head to the Manor. Draco was bouncing on his toes, impatient to fix this and get back to a better reality.
Though the half hour where Granger had walked around their shared bedroom in just her knickers hadn't been so bad.
Neither had the five minutes after her shower, where she lathered something sweet-smelling over every inch of her skin.
She'd caught him staring on both occasions and smiled, saying, "What's up with you?"
He bit his tongue to keep from telling her that he'd always assumed she slept and showered in tweed. This version of Hermione Granger was… much different than he'd imagined.
Not that he'd ever imagined her in domestic bliss, much less rubbing lotion on her bare tits.
"We'll Apparate to the Manor, alright?" she said as she tugged a jumper over Daniel's head. "Draco, can you help Eloise with her gloves?"
He turned and found the girl at his hip, fiddling with gloves.
"She doesn't know how to put on gloves?"
Granger tilted her face up to him with a curious look. "What?
"I did it, Daddy." The girl tugged his arm until he looked and then flashed her covered fingers at him.
"Bravo."
Granger grabbed the boy's hand and led out the front door. Draco followed until a voice from his shin said, "Will you carry me?"
He spun to her. "Carry you? You're enormous."
The girl stared up at him, her smile fading and her eyes dimming. It was odd. He could see Granger in her freckles and eyes. But her hair was blond like his. And she had his nose, he thought.
She blinked and looked down at her little shoes. "I'm getting too big?"
"It's a good thing," he said. "Children are worthless when they're small and can't speak."
"Oh." Eloise wiped her glove across her nose and walked out the door, her face pink and her eyes wet.
Something stabbed at Draco's stomach — some strange emotion. She looked so small. And she looked like him.
"Oh fine." He sighed. Reaching for her waist, he hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and followed after Granger.
"Daddy, what are you doing?" Eloise laughed against the middle of his back.
"Carrying you. That's what you wanted, yes?"
"On your shoulders."
Draco cursed under his breath and dropped her on the grass. He hefted her up over his head and seated her on his shoulders.
"Eh-woh-weez is tall! Can I be on Daddy's shoulders next?" The boy was pointing and jumping up and down.
"Maybe on the way home, Daniel." Granger turned her face up to Draco, smiling at him like seeing him with children hanging off of his person was getting her randy or something.
They walked a ways down the road, the wind whipping at Draco's face. Granger stopped around a corner tucked into an alley and helped Eloise come down from his shoulders. "Alright, Apparating. Hold on tight!"
Granger took Daniel's hand, and gestured for Eloise to take his. The four of them appeared in front of the Manor gates, and Draco was horrified to see a jolly-looking wreath on each side.
His parents had liked Christmas as much as the rest of the world, but actually decorating for it? He'd never imagined it.
The gates swung open, and the children ran up the drive, racing each other forward. Draco frowned and followed until he realized Granger wasn't with him. He turned and found her just inside the gates, staring up at the sky with a wide smile on her face.
"What?"
She closed her eyes and relished the wind on her face. And then it started to snow.
Draco looked up, finding the flakes falling softly, seemingly magnetized to Granger's hair and eyelashes. She tilted her head down and looked at him.
"I love it when it snows on Christmas Day."
Her smile was bright as snow itself, and Draco almost stumbled back at how — well, not beautiful, but maybe attractive. How attractive she looked. With her curls slowly expanding with the melting flakes, her cheeks and nose pink with the cold.
He cleared his throat. "Alright."
She shook her head at him, and took his hand in hers as they followed the toddlers up to the Manor.
He tried to get the image out of his head, refocusing on what was in store for them. He was eager to see his parents again. Despite not caring to come home for the holiday this year, he still missed them.
But what he was truly looking forward to, was the absolute disdain his mother and father would have for Granger and their half-blood spawn. He was absolutely giddy to see the look on his father's face when he greeted her — her, the Muggle-born who had trapped his pure-blood son with two pregnancies. (Draco was sure by now that that's how it had happened.)
He was positively gleeful when they stepped inside the foyer, until the sight of his mother feeding biscuits to the children assaulted his eyes. She had the boy on her hip and was giving the girl a plate of sweets to devour.
"Slowly, Eloise," Granger said as she unwound her scarf. She sent them up to the hatstand by the door that Draco had never noticed.
Where were the elves?
His mother was listening to the boy babble about his damned broomstick and not sparing Draco a glance. Didn't she know her son was here?
Draco took off his coat — by himself — and placed it on the hatstand. As Granger helped the children with their mittens and coats, his mother turned to him with a warm smile.
"Happy Christmas, darling." She kissed his cheek, and turned to Granger — the moment he'd been waiting for — and met her with a warm smile as well. "Happy Christmas, dear."
Draco watched in horror as his mother kissed Granger's cheek, like she was… family or something. They talked excitedly with each other about something female and boring and Draco watched with dread dropping low in his belly.
What kind of awful reality was this?
Narcissa Malfoy escorted them toward the drawing room (the children ran ahead — no patience), and Draco was pleased to see that they were headed to the same room Granger had been tortured in not nine months earlier.
His face fell when he saw it had been redone. Not only was it redecorated and architecturally different, it was decked in the Christmas Spirit.
He sneered at the two-story high tree and the piles of presents beneath it. He was just about to sit down on a brand new sofa when a voice boomed from the hallway.
"Where are they!?"
Draco spun to the door, thanking Merlin that his father still had his sense. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't stand for this nonsense. He'd throw the Granger Spawns out on their asses and then Draco could figure out what the fuck was going on.
"Are there children here?"
The little demons screamed and ducked behind the furniture. Draco smiled gleefully in anticipation.
A large figure crashed through the doorway, decked head-to-toe in red velvet and white fur. Draco felt himself lose years of his life as Santa Lucius rumbled out a "ho-ho-ho" and bellowed, "Merry Christmas!"
He sat down before he fainted.
"Are there good children here?" Lucius asked.
"Yes!" The little moppets popped up and ran to his father, climbing up his black leather boots like beetles.
His father lifted the boy straight over his head and tucked the girl under his arm, twirling them in a circle. Draco was getting motion-sickness just watching them.
Lucius dropped them and let Narcissa lead them to the presents under the tree. He glanced at Draco and laughed.
"Don't tell me you're back to hating Christmas."
His father had lines on his face that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. Did Draco hate Christmas in the past of this version of reality as well? He watched, spell-bound, as his father took Granger in his arms, kissing her cheeks and complimenting her earrings.
Draco couldn't breathe. Maybe he needed to go to bed so he could wake up back in his old life? Maybe he needed to jump off the top of the Manor for a reset?
"Excuse me." Draco rose from the sofa and dashed toward the guest bath, locking himself inside. He splashed water on his face, squeezing his eyes closed against this strange new reflection and praying there would be an end to this insanity soon.
He counted backwards from one hundred, taking deep breaths. He got to forty-seven before a soft knock rapped against the door.
"Draco?" Granger's voice was tentative on the other side.
Couldn't he get a second's peace from this woman?
He rolled his eyes and opened the lock for her. Her look of sympathy as she leaned back on the door made him want to hurl.
"Darling, what is it? There's been something terribly wrong with you all day."
Draco pressed his lips together. He examined her face. She was possibly pretty. And he now knew her tits were majestic. She did well with kids and she'd somehow conned his parents into liking her. But the root of it just didn't make sense.
"How did we get here, Granger?"
She lifted her brows. "Here?"
"Us. Together. In… in love."
Her gaze caught on the wall behind him, searching for the answer. "One day, you just started being nice to me. I don't quite remember when. But suddenly you were kind and I wasn't angry whenever I saw your face." She laughed.
Draco couldn't imagine it. There was so much more between them than attitude. "And my parents approved?"
"Mm. Not at first. They were quite shocked." She tilted her head. "Are you forgetting things?"
She stepped into him and placed the back of her hand against his forehead, then against his cheek. He watched her nose scrunch in concern.
"When was our first kiss?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, the desire to know more itching at him.
"May of our Eighth Year." She smiled. "You were absolutely devilish that day, taking me to Hogsmeade and filling me full of Butterbeer."
Her eyes darkened, and she rose up on her toes, sliding her hands over his collar and pressing her lips to his.
He let his eyelids close and tried to envision it. Granger giggling into a Butterbeer mug, the foam soft on her upper lip.
She slanted her mouth against his, and he reached for her hips.
Granger walking through Hogsmeade with a sway to her steps, her eyes brightening as they reached the stationary store.
A soft moan poured from her mouth, and he dipped his tongue inside of her. Her fingers raked through his hair.
Granger talking about the future, her plans after Hogwarts, her dreams and ambitions. Her cheeks pink as she poured her heart out to him.
She reached for more of him, pressing her chest into his and slotting her hips against him. He slid his hands around to her backside, and she groaned when he pulled her against his growing length.
Granger turning to him, and asking And you? What do you want to do, Draco?
He sighed into her mouth stepping forward with her until her back landed against the wall. She giggled, almost drunk off of Butterbeer.
His hand reached up, drawn like gravity to her chest. She gasped as he pinned her to the wall and groped her over her blouse, her breast a heavy weight in his palm.
"Draco…"
Something sizzled in his blood when she moaned his name, like she could live a lifetime off of only him.
He rolled his hips into her and fondled her breast, feeling it peak under her bra. His other hand grabbed her waist, pulling her closer. Her quiet mewls were heady in his ears, and he tore his mouth from hers to start nipping at her neck.
His teeth bit down, and she moaned. He sucked at the skin. Maybe if he marked her, when she woke up from this nightmare she'd still have his bite on her skin. The thought sent blood rushing to his cock.
"You owe me for this morning," she whispered into his cheek as his teeth and tongue attacked her neck.
He paused, his eyes opening. She didn't mean... "Here? With my… my parents?"
"They have the children," she panted. "They're opening presents."
She slipped out of his arms and turned to face the sink. He watched as Granger hiked up her skirt, and pushed down her tights and knickers. Her eyes met his in the mirror. "Please, baby?"
Draco swallowed, barely hesitating before reaching for his belt. As soon as he'd gotten his trousers opened, Granger reached back for him, sliding him into position. Which was lovely because he hadn't had a chance to try it this way yet, and he wasn't sure if he'd have gotten it right on the first go.
He grabbed her hips and buried himself to the hilt, like sinking into warm butter.
She yelped, slapping her hand on the mirror, her jaw opening wide. "Gods."
He pulled out and slammed in again, fascinated by the sound of her arse against his thighs. He was ready to do it a third time when suddenly Granger was reaching for his head, twisting her face to his and whispering, "Not so rough, baby, please?"
He had no idea what the difference was, but when he slowed down and let her kiss his mouth, she started moaning softly.
He brought his hands up to her chest, kneading her through her blouse. She hummed her appreciation, and gasped when he ripped her buttons open.
"Draco!"
"I need to see them." He was half-blind with it all when he pushed down her bra and brought his hands to her hips again, watching her tits bounce in the mirror.
Where did she get off having those tits after two kids.
She pressed her hands on the sink, stepping back and widening her legs with a moan. "Yes, just like that."
He sped up.
"No, like before."
He slowed down.
"More, Draco, please—"
"What the fuck do you want from me, bloody witch?" he panted into her ear, and she only laughed at him.
He tried a different way, and her eyes fluttered closed, her teeth sinking into her lip.
Excellent, because his balls were tightening and his legs starting to wobble. They'd been at it nearly five minutes — surely they would be done soon.
"Draco, baby, please," she whispered, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He didn't know what that meant. So he tried slowing down and reaching up for her tits.
Granger smiled and said, "Don't tease."
But whatever else she demanded of him could wait. He was transfixed by the soft skin against his fingertips. Her breasts pebbled under his attention, and the weight of them in his palms was like nothing he'd held. He ran his thumbs over her, and kittenish noises burst from the back of her throat. He pinched her nipples and rolled them between his fingers, and Granger's hands slammed down on the sink.
"Fuck," she breathed — and the sound of it made his head spin.
"You'll pay for that in the Swear Jar," he rasped against her neck, and she laughed, covering her mouth with one hand.
She gasped and whispered, "Please let come, baby. Please."
Draco saw white. "What?"
"Please, can I?"
His mind was empty. There was only Granger's beautiful bouncing tits, the hot velvet of her cunt, and the spark of an idea that maybe — just maybe — this Granger let him dominate her a bit in the bedroom.
"Draco, can I?"
"Yes," he choked out.
And the sudden meaning behind it all — all of her earlier demands, her current begging — made complete and total sense as Granger reached down between her legs and started rubbing.
Ah. The clitoris. Draco had heard of the thing, but never seen it in action.
It happened so suddenly, Draco had no time to prepare for the way she clenched down on him, her mouth widening and her breath stuttering out of her.
She slapped her hand against the mirror and started pushing back, fucking herself on him.
Draco was going to pop. The feeling of Hermione Granger coming on his cock, the sweet sounds she was biting back, the image of her tits out, her mouth dropped open, and her face in total ecstasy because of him—
"Wheredoyouwantmetocome," he mumbled out.
"Inside."
And that's exactly what he did. He grabbed her hips, pulled her arse back against him, and buried his face into her neck, shaking and groaning into her hair. He felt himself spurting, emptying, filling her up until he hoped she couldn't even walk, she was so full of him.
He'd thought that morning was the best orgasm of his life. But this was leaps and bounds beyond. He shuddered, lifting his head slowly, and he met Granger's eyes in the mirror.
She looked utterly fucked. She smiled at him. And he smiled back.
~*~
The rest of the afternoon at the Manor was awkward at first. Draco was positive his father knew exactly why they'd been gone during presents, but he simply lifted a brow and handed Draco a gift to open.
They drank mulled cider, and he couldn't help but notice that Granger asked for three cups of it.
Daniel was asleep on Draco's lap after an hour, and Eloise was performing a whole show for Narcissa and Lucius, doing voices and running in circles.
That was definitely his kid. He frowned at her when Eloise insisted he do "Grumpy Monster." Draco used his normal voice to recite his lines, and the girl was delighted.
He stopped his mother as they gathered coats to go home and asked, "Why do you think I ended up with Hermione Granger?"
Narcissa tilted her head at him with an amused twist to her lips. "You told me once it was her smile."
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He'd seen Granger smile loads of times today, but there had been no instantaneous feelings in his chest about it.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "That doesn't quite sound right—"
"I've never seen a more stubborn pair of fools fall in love." She patted his cheek and turned her attention back to the sleepy Daniel.
The four of them walked down the drive to the Apparition point, and Draco was about to protest that they had a perfectly good Floo network to use — until he saw Granger's face brighten at the heavy fall of snow on the ground, lit violet by the sunset.
Daniel was asleep in his arms or else he'd toss snow down her blouse. Granger looked over her shoulder at him with an impish grin and he thought maybe she had the same idea.
The Apparated back to the alley, and Daniel declared he was ready to use his own legs. The two children ran ahead, racing each other back home. Granger slotted her arm through his, and they followed slowly.
He watched her enjoy the snow falling. "You like it when it snows on Christmas," he said.
She turned her bright eyes up at him — golden brown, he'd decided — and nodded. "The air is just full of magic. I thought so even before I knew there was a magical world."
He watched his air puff out in front of him, and he decided not to ask why they lived in this small Muggle neighborhood when they could have taken over the Manor. The lights on the trees and the smoke rising from chimneys as their children raced ahead without a worry about getting lost was all the answer he needed.
They tucked the two of them into bed, and Draco read Eloise a Christmas story. Her eyes were closed by page two.
He watched Granger press kisses to their eyelashes, and a sudden fear settled over him — what if he woke up tomorrow and it wasn't like this.
Brooding over his evening regimen, he considered the possibilities. Either he woke up on 26 December next to his wife, Hermione Granger… or he went back.
She walked up behind him at the bathroom sink, and maybe her mind immediately went to the last time they were at a bathroom sink that day, but her arms wrapped around his waist, her hands reaching under his shirt to brush his bare stomach. He felt her press kisses into his spine.
"Happy Christmas, Draco."
He replaced his toothbrush and grabbed her hand. "Happy Christmas, Granger."
She led him back toward their bed, and just when he thought maybe they'd fall asleep curled around each other, Granger surprised him with even more delicious sex. She stripped off his pajamas and climbed into his lap, grinding against him.
Her cotton knickers were damp against his cock as he dragged up her nightgown, tossing it into the corner. He brought his lips to her tits, peppering them with kisses as she rolled her hips on him, threading her fingers in his hair. She tasted like toothpaste when she kissed him, her tongue moving sensuously against his and driving him into madness with the press of her bare chest.
He looked up at her as she pushed her knickers to the side and sunk down on him with a groan. Leaning back against the bedframe, he watched as she rode him, and even managed to find her clit with her help. She shivered over him with her release, her thighs shaking as she milked his cock. He was able to hold off, no matter how badly he wanted to push her to the mattress and paint her tits.
She opened her eyes and pressed forward, brushing her lips against his. "I love you."
Draco swallowed. She kissed him deeply, starting to roll her hips again, continuing and starting to pick up the pace for him.
"I… love you." He blinked. He didn't feel any different. She smiled though.
He filled his palms with her breasts and fondled her until she was bouncing on him and his thighs were tight with pressure. He pulled one nipple between his lips and sucked, licking and biting and letting her fuck him until he felt her cunt squeeze him again.
His head fell back and he moaned so loud he thought it could wake the children. His eyes fluttered open just before he came to see Granger biting down on her hand, her face squished tight in pleasure — sounds choking in her throat as she neared the edge for a second time.
He reached down and pressed once on her clit, and she trembled, screaming into her palm. He saw white light everywhere, his hips jerking and spilling himself into her again and again.
Her cunt felt like it would never release him, and he memorized the pressure.
When she finally tumbled off of him, panting, she tucked herself into his side and whispered, "I love you, baby," one more time.
"Granger," he wheezed. "If anything could make me fall in love with you, that sex could."
She laughed and slapped his chest, like he'd repeated a terrible joke that he always said to her.
They curled up together, and the last thing Draco remembered before going to sleep with his face buried in Hermione Granger's hair was wishing he could try it all again — another chance.
~*~
His mind rose back to consciousness with Weasley's heavy snore breaking the sound barrier. Draco's eyes popped open, finding the canopy of his 8th year bed.
Another chance.
He threw back the covers and jumped up, rushing to get dressed like one of his bloody toddlers. Running to the mirror, Draco checked his appearance, finding his eighteen-year-old self staring back at him.
"Still magnificent at any age." He winked at his reflection and ran down to the common room.
No one else was awake. He turned in a circle, trying to decide what to do with himself. The Christmas tree glimmered at him, and the sight gifts below reminded him — his parents' gifts. There was little he could do now to change the mundane gifts he'd gotten them, but he could at least write them Christmas cards.
He sat at a desk in the corner, writing pages to both his parents thanking them for everything they'd done for him and apologizing for being such a Grumpy Monster when it came to the holidays.
His classmates were milling through the common room by the time he was done, but he didn't catch sight of Granger yet. Draco ran for his cloak and mittens and darted down to Hogsmeade to get the packages waiting for him.
Just like he'd experienced the first time, the employee at the Hogsmeade owlery was slow as molasses, but this time, Draco thanked him for working Christmas Day when he could be with his family.
The older man gave him a toothless grin and worked to find his mother's book amongst the deliveries. Draco bid him a very happy Christmas as he left, almost clicking his heels. Not even the snow could ruin his good mood.
He stood in the middle of the lane in Hogsmeade, watching the snowflakes drift over the bridge, coating the ground and sticking to his coat. He smiled.
When he got back into the castle, he shook off the cold and stopped dead in his tracks.
Hermione Granger was curled up into a ball, crying in the corridor.
His heart pounded. He knew if he went upstairs he would find Weasley shagging the 7th year.
She glanced up at him, and he could feel her embarrassment rise as she buried her face in her arm. "What," she snapped.
Something clicked in Draco's mind — One day, you just started being nice to me.
He ran into the common room, and set his things to the side. His parents would forgive him. (Someday in the future.)
He ignored Theo calling his name as he filled two mugs full of mulled cider and carefully steered back out into the corridor.
She was so much smaller than she'd been just hours ago, curled up in bed with him. Watching her make herself as small as possible riled something in his chest.
He cleared his throat. "Granger?"
She lifted her head. Her nose and cheeks were red as she glared at him. She was younger, yes, but she had freckles and a harsher curve to her jaw.
"I just…" He searched for words. "I wanted you to know that it's snowing outside." She stared at him, like he was being violently ill all over her shoes. "On Christmas," he added, like it would make more sense to her.
"Alright…"
"I, er… I was going to take a walk in the archways and watch the snow."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's in the mugs?"
"Mulled cider."
Her lashes fluttered. "Oh." She sniffed. "Who's the second mug for then?"
"You. If you'll join me."
Granger was still wary as she pressed up to her feet and peered inside the outstretched mug. Draco took the opportunity to pass his eyes down the front of her, pleased to see that yes, her tits were still intact in this reality — just a little under supported.
When she took the mug and allowed him to lead her down to the courtyard, he felt like there were pieces clicking into place, like a properly boiling cauldron, or a Quidditch team falling into formation.
She stood next to him in silence as the snow fell. He didn't bring up Weasley, and she didn't offer the information.
The snow was heavy on the ground with no end in sight for the falling flakes when she whispered into her cider, "I love it when it snows on Christmas."
He watched a flake land on her eyelashes and said, "I know."
She looked at him over her mug. And smiled.