With a quiet mumble of the appropriate spell, she watched a trunk slowly rise up and sprout long branches with healthy, evergreen pine needles. By the time the Douglas Fir had finished its regeneration, it was just over six feet tall and, as Dobby had promised, a fine specimen with perfect proportions and a refreshing smell.
Hermione angled her wand and had an incantation to decorate the tree on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated. She lowered her arm and headed into her bedroom, kneeling at the charmed trunk by her bed and rummaging for the bag of red and gold Christmas decorations that her mother had given her before she'd returned to Hogwarts. Her lips creased into a sad frown as she considered how much she missed her parents, but she carried the small bag, also spelled with an Undetectable Extension Charm, back to the sitting area anyway, and began to absently hang baubles and tinsel from the sturdy branches.
That was how Draco found her; fawny-eyes distant and forlorn as she toyed with a snowflake-shaped ornament between her fingertips. He cocked a curious eyebrow and took some steps towards her, stopping a few feet short of her back and scowling when she gave no indication that she was aware of him.
"Why don't you just use a spell to put those on?" he questioned bluntly. "You're just wasting time and energy."
He heard her release a sad breath before she latched the snowflake onto the tree. "I like to do it this way," she told him. "It reminds me of home."
"And red and gold trimmings?" he commented snidely. "How very predictable of you, Granger."
"It has nothing to do with the Gryffindor colours," she replied in a blank tone. "My family always have red and gold on the tree. I always thought that green, red and gold go together really well."
He debated disagreeing with her for the sake of it, but the defeated slump of her shoulders made him pause. Rolling his eyes at himself for being too mindful of her feelings, he collapsed onto the sofa and regarded her carefully; already sensing that persistent itch to touch her pull at his stomach.
"Exactly how many days are there before Christmas?" he asked.
"It's the fourteenth today," she mumbled. "Eleven days."
Draco cleared his throat. "And you're staying here?"
"Yes," she nodded as she continued her work. "It was the safest option."
"I would have pegged you for a Christmas enthusiast, Granger," he admitted in a stoic tone. "But you seem…indifferent."
"There's hardly anything to celebrate this year," she sighed, finally turning to face him. "Was there anything you wanted for Christmas?"
He narrowed his eyes and gave her a cold stare. "Freedom from this hell-hole?"
"You know that's not possible-
"Then no," he grumbled, resting his elbows against his thighs. "And if you aren't bothered about Christmas, why have a tree at all?"
"It was a gift," Hermione shrugged. "If you change your mind, I'm taking a trip to Hogsmeade on Saturday-
"I don't need anything," he affirmed in a gruff voice. "If I have to spend the day in this place, then I'd rather ignore it all together."
She bobbed her head in agreement. "That sounds fine."
A melancholic silence drifted between them as she half-heartedly planted the last of her decorations on the branches, and she reached into her bag to remove the final piece; the essential star to crown the tree. She examined the striking design and stroked her finger over the edge as she counted the pretty sequins and followed their intricate patterns.
"My father always used to put the star on the tree," Hermione murmured, unsure if Draco was even listening to her. "It was always something the man of the home did. A tradition, you know?"
She glanced up to find her new lover watching her with hooded eyes, and his lips set into a stern line. After a few moments, he exhaled and shook his head, as though he was angry at himself, before fixing her with a yielding look of understanding.
"We had the same tradition," he confessed reluctantly.
Hermione swallowed back the nerves in her throat and extended her arm to offer him the star. "I guess that would be you here," she said. "Care to do the honours?"
Draco pushed away her hand. "This isn't a home, Granger."
"It's the closest thing we've got to one," she offered sadly. "Besides, I can't reach-
"I'm not putting it on the tree," he finalised. "Just leave it, Granger."
She frowned in defeat and placed it on the coffee table, shuffling her feet as she gathered the courage to mumble her next words. "Draco, I've been thinking-
"Shocker-
"Should we…," she trailed off with uncertainty. "Should we talk about our…situation?"
"No," he replied quickly. "Talking about it won't make a difference-
"But I-
"Just leave things be, Granger," he hushed with a tense jaw. "Weren't you the one who said it was best to just let things flow?"
Her eyes widened a fraction at that remark. "I guess I did say that-
"Then I suggest you take a leaf out of your own book," he muttered; his eyes dropping to his lap. "I made my decision clear last night, and I don't want to discuss it any further."
Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she realised she wanted him to stay with her tonight, if only because today had been a bitter reminder of how lonely the next fortnight would inevitably be. She took a deep breath and tried to locate another dose of that Gryffindor bravery, which always seemed to wither whenever Draco was concerned.
"I think I'm going to head to bed," she told him with a wavering voice. "Are you…are you coming?"
He arched an eyebrow with slight surprise before he shook his head. "No," he answered, and Hermione had to fight hard to conceal her hurt.
"Okay," she mumbled lamely, making her way towards her bedroom, feeling rather humiliated. "Goodnight then."
"Granger," Draco called just before she reached the door. He clenched his eyes shut and massaged the bridge of his nose; conceding to the fact that his tattered dignity was questionable from this point on. "Leave your door unlocked. I might change my mind."
Hermione's mouth twitched into a private smile before she slipped into her room, leaving Draco behind to glare at her unfinished tree. He stayed still for long minutes; his mind burdened with conflicting notions as his eyes shifted to the star on the table. A growl rumbled in his throat before he grabbed it and marched over to the tree, reaching up to effortlessly place in on top and complete the task Granger had started.
He stepped back to give it a critical look, and privately decided that green, red and gold did indeed compliment each other fairly well. With a final grunt of surrender, he turned on his heel, with no intention of heading to his own room.
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