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“Merlin, these warming charms aren’t helping a bit. I think my fingers are going to fall off.”
Hermione chuckled softly at Ginny’s dramatics. Sure, it was cold, but hypothermia was hardly a real concern. “Relax. We’re nearly there.”
Normally, Hermione would be just as miserable taking the long walk to Hogsmeade after the heavy snowfall they’d had that week. But she was in an uncharacteristically good mood that day. And her good humor didn’t go unnoticed.
“Why are you so cheerful?” Ginny asked, brows knit together in suspicion. “Have you been shagging someone?”
Hermione nearly choked on her laughter. “No, Ginny. I’m just feeling preemptively nostalgic. This is our last Christmas at Hogwarts!”
Ginny cocked her head to the side, considering the gently falling snowflakes that glided down along the wind, coalescing into the blanket of powder that surrounded them. Their boots let out soft crunching noises as they trod on the well-worn path. And in the distance, Hermione could see twinkling lights from the decorated houses and shops in Hogsmeade. Everything around them looked lovely. Beaming, Hermione turned back to Ginny, who was wearing a look of unimpressed boredom.
“I suppose.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” Ginny continued, unbothered, “Which shops are you visiting today? I’ve got to go to Honeydukes, Spintwitches, and…probably Zonko’s, too.”
“Are you doing all of your Christmas shopping today?”
“Of course. I’m normal. I’ll bet you finished yours before Halloween.”
“Not quite. I still have to buy Slughorn’s gift, but I have an idea for it. Just got to stop by Dervish and Banges.”
Ginny shook her head, smirking softly. “I still can’t believe you’re best friends with Slughorn now.”
Hermione bumped her shoulder against Ginny’s. “We’re not best friends. I'm just grateful for how much he’s helped me since I had that panic attack after his class. I want him to know how much I appreciate him.”
If she was honest with herself, Hermione never would have imagined that she’d have genuinely fond feelings toward Slughorn. But he’d been a surprisingly helpful mentor to her this year. It felt for the first time like she understood how Harry’s mum—who by all other accounts seemed a good judge of character—could have liked him as well.
When they reached the gate to Hogsmeade, Ginny tossed over her shoulder, “We’ll meet at the Three Broomsticks after we’re finished!” before she raced into Zonko’s, no doubt in a rush to escape the frosty chill.
Hermione hurriedly made her way to Dervish and Banges. Inside, she pushed past a throng of fellow last-minute shoppers, to where she’d last seen the two ornate, wooden chests she was searching for. Thankfully, the crowd was thinner here in the back of the shop.
The chests were similar to the way a vanishing cabinet functioned, as they needed a twin. But that was where the similarities ended. They had been spelled so that the owner could essentially have the contents of one chest in two places at once, rather than in one or the other. For Slughorn, who was constantly running back and forth from his classroom to his office because of items he’d forgotten, it was perfect. He could store his books and notes in one chest in his office, and as long as its twin was in his classroom, he could grab what he needed from there.
Hermione was already thinking ahead to the warm drink she’d order at the Three Broomsticks, so engrossed in her thoughts that she nearly didn’t see the tall figure with whom she was about to collide. But when she looked up and saw a head of white-blonde hair, she nearly fell into the shelf behind her.
She shared a few classes with Draco Malfoy this year, but she hadn’t had to face him directly yet. He was always the last to enter and the first to leave any classroom, and he never spoke up during lessons. It was like he was content to fade away and be invisible this year.
He looked up from his inspection of the chests and his eyes widened. He seemed as startled to see her as she felt. For some reason, she found comfort in that fact.
For several moments, they both just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence, neither wanting to speak first. Or perhaps, neither could think of what to say.
At last, Malfoy spoke up.
“Granger,” he greeted her with a stiff nod of his head before he turned away from her, focusing his attention back on the chests she wouldn’t let him leave with.
Well, that wasn’t helpful.
“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” Hermione asked with an impatient huff.
His eyes slid back up to her face, his expression blank. “I’m shopping, what does it look like?”
“Well, go ahead and look at the other wares in this shop, because I’ll be buying these chests.”
Malfoy’s eyebrows rose and he asked, “And what claim do you have on them?”
“I want to buy them for a Christmas present.”
“Granger…it's a week before Christmas. You don’t seriously think I’m shopping for myself, do you? I also want to buy them for a Christmas present.”
Well, when he put it like that, she felt a bit silly. Though…Hermione couldn’t imagine who he’d be buying them for. She’d never seen him spending time with anyone at Hogwarts this year, not even his old friends. And surely this couldn’t be a present for one of his parents. The chests were nice enough for her tastes, but she couldn’t imagine the likes of Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy overlooking style for function.
Malfoy let out an impatient groan, as though he could hear her thoughts, sifting through his social life. Or lack thereof. “I was planning to buy it for Slughorn, alright?”
“What?” she gasped out before she could help herself. That just didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like the two of them had any sort of relationship to speak of.
“You see how the old fool is always running around losing things during class. He’d lose his head if it wasn’t screwed onto his shoulders,” he quipped. “He’s been giving me a hard time this year and I was hoping a Christmas present would finally get him to lighten up.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s not an old fool. And why do you even care about your Potions marks anyway? It’s not like you need to work after Hogwarts.”
Something like hurt flashed across his face. “I’ll bet you’ve never said that to Saint Potter. Slipped your mind that he’s inherited from the Blacks and the Potters, has it? Just because I don’t need to get a job doesn’t mean I don’t plan on it.”
“Well, fine,” Hermione continued, undeterred. “But I know you’re a strong student in Potions. You don’t need to resort to bribing Slughorn.”
Malfoy shrugged, clearly unconvinced. “Who were you going to buy them for, anyway?”
“Slughorn,” she replied in a low murmur.
Without missing a beat, Malfoy began to laugh. “So you’re just upset you had the same idea I did?”
“We don’t have the same idea! Your idea is bribery, mine is to show gratitude.”
“But with the same gift,” Malfoy shot back. “You must be so embarrassed that you’re just as thoughtful as I am.”
“If anything, I’m impressed that you’re as thoughtful as I am.”
Hermione felt her heart skip a beat when she heard the words she said aloud. In the short journey between thought and speech, they’d seemed more insulting. But she hadn’t meant to pay him a compliment.
When she snuck a glance at Malfoy’s face and his cheeks were tinged pink, it only made her feel more restless. She turned away to shield herself from the discomfort of the situation and to examine—
Oh no.
“Someone took the chests while we were—“ Hermione began.
“—Flirting?” Someone behind one of the shelves finished for her.
Hermione inched closer to the voice to see Dean Thomas, leaning against a wall and grinning in wicked delight. She’d nearly forgotten how full this shop had been when she entered. Malfoy had completely blinded her with rage.
Dean nodded his head toward the front register and Hermione followed his gaze to see…Terry Boot paying for the chests she and Malfoy had been fighting over.
“He overheard you two,” Dean explained. “Said it was a brilliant idea to bribe Slughorn. Apparently he completely bungled his last Potions essay and he thinks this’ll help his grade.”
She groaned. As much as she liked Slughorn now, he was still very much susceptible to bribery.
She had to shove through the crowd and back out onto High Street. The icy wind blasted against her face on her way out the front door and she let out a shiver. At least she had time before she had to meet Ginny. Tomes and Scrolls seemed like as good a place as any to check for a second option to gift Slughorn.
But unfortunately, the bookstore was just as packed as Dervish and Banges had been. Not exactly ideal for browsing when she had no clue what she was looking for. Hermione racked her brain for anything Slughorn had mentioned wanting to learn more about. He’d once remarked that he had an interest in learning about knitting the muggle way but she wasn’t sure she’d find anything for that here. Maybe she could—
She paused when she felt the presence of someone sidling up to her, much closer than a usual passing shopper would.
“I suppose since we’re both so impressively thoughtful, I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here as well,” Malfoy said when she looked up to meet his eyes, a smirk tugging on his lips.
Hermione turned away from him. She had no business looking at what his lips were doing. “Well, clearly I misjudged your thoughtfulness because now you’re just trying to copy me.”
“Hey, I didn’t see that you were coming here too,” Malfoy replied hurriedly.
“Sure,” Hermione said with a shrug before brushing past him. She didn’t have time to keep arguing with Malfoy, fun as it was.
“But,” he said, quickening his pace to follow after her, “I was thinking, since we’re both so good at picking out gifts, aren’t you dying to know who’s better?”
It was as though those words activated something she kept buried deep within herself. “I already know I’m better.” A pause. “But how would we judge that? Ask Slughorn which gift he likes more?”
Malfoy shook his head, there was a sparkle of excitement in his eye she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. “I think the best way would be to just gauge his reaction. He’s sure to have a bigger response to one over the other.”
Hermione considered it, before nodding her agreement. “Alright, we’ll meet tomorrow and give him our presents together.”
When she met Ginny at the Three Broomsticks after she’d finally finished her shopping, she could hardly sit still from the anticipation thrumming in her veins.
“Miss Granger!” Slughorn greeted her cheerfully. Until he saw who was standing next to her and all delight evaporated from his expression. “And Mister Malfoy. Is everything alright?”
“Of course, Professor. We came to wish you a Merry Christmas!” Hermione told him with a smile, holding up the gift-wrapped box in her arms.
That certainly brought joy to his face once more. “Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything!” Despite his words, he moved aside eagerly to let them into his office.
Hermione felt quite silly as she and Malfoy stood side-by-side in front of Slughorn’s desk, watching for every minuscule detail in the professor’s expression. She felt like she was on one of those cooking shows her parents loved, waiting for the host to cut into the chicken she'd prepared.
Malfoy’s box was a bit larger than the one she’d brought, wrapped neatly in green and silver packaging. Slughorn’s eyes lit up as he tore through the thin paper. “A Graphorn Horn!” He exclaimed, “These are quite rare! And useful for a great many potions. Thank you very much, Mister Malfoy. A very thoughtful present, indeed!”
Malfoy shot her a smug look and Hermione rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure Malfoy had put much thought into it all. It seemed like he’d walked into J. Pippin’s Potions and bought the most expensive potion ingredient he could find. Though, she had to admit, it wasn’t as though Slughorn wouldn’t be able to find a use for it.
She felt a buzzing in her skin as she watched Slughorn tear into her package next, peeling back the red and green paper.
“Oh my! Miss Granger, did you make this yourself?” The professor exclaimed, pulling the green scarf out of the box, a wide grin on his face.
Hermione gave a small nod, feeling a bit sheepish now. She hadn’t had enough time to knit it entirely by hand, having to resort to magic for the majority of it. But she’d been able to find a book in Tomes and Scrolls that went into great detail about both knitting spells and hand-knitting techniques.
Slughorn held the book and scarf up for Malfoy to see as well. “Such lovely gifts! I can’t wait to wear this! And it’s so kind that you remembered my curiosity about knitting. Thank you, Miss Granger!”
His praise was effusive, but she wasn’t sure that it was enough. If anything, he seemed equally impressed with both gifts.
That is, of course, until Terry Boot came bounding into the office mere moments later, and Slughorn nearly wept from gratitude at seeing the twin chests presented to him.
Hermione and Malfoy met each other’s eyes wearing matching grimaces. Terry had undoubtedly won the competition he hadn’t even known was happening.
They exited the office together in stony silence.
“That wasn’t fair,” Malfoy griped.
“Well, the chests were my idea first, so clearly I’m the victor.”
Malfoy scoffed and shook his head. “We can’t prove who thought of it first. But maybe…we can call it a tie since we did both think of them.” Even as he uttered the words, there was a clear dissatisfaction in his tone.
They were wandering in the direction of the Great Hall when Filch emerged from a bathroom along their route, grumbling to himself. “These blasted students…think their pranks are so funny…it’ll take ages to clean all this bubotuber pus…”
Hermione and Malfoy both stopped walking. A look passed between them and Hermione knew they were both thinking the same thing. A race to see who’d clean it first.
The two of them scrambled to the doorway of the bathroom, nearly knocking each other over in their haste to get inside first.
It wasn’t until Filch returned, almost half an hour later, carrying a bucket and a mop, gaping at them, that it occurred to Hermione that they’d never even said what the prize would be for winning.