Work Text:
The fire gently crackled in the Malfoy sitting room, casting golden light across Hermione’s playful grin as she perched on Draco’s lap. Her cranberry-red dress clinging to her skin, her stockings grazing against his thighs, she could feel his heat through the flimsy fabric.
"You’ve been very naughty, haven’t you?" she whispered. “And don’t lie, I’ll know.”
Draco’s silver eyes are glazed over, his face tinged pink, lips twitching upward in a slight smirk. “Was that meant to be a threat, Granger?” he drawled feigning disinterest, his long fingers ghosting over her stocking-clad legs. “I see no point in lying, I certainly haven’t been good.”
Hermione leaned closer, the cranberries pinned to her dress brushing against his chest. “Good,” she murmured, her lips grazing his ear. “Because Santa doesn’t bring gifts to boys like you. Just me..” He shivered at the contact, and leaned back.
And Draco thought perhaps being naughty wasn’t so bad after all.
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