Merry Christmas, Hermione

by Elani Wrapdon
 
 
 

In her seventh year, Hermione Granger was extremely miserable. It was almost Christmas, and she was at Hogwarts for winter break. On Halloween night, Harry Potter, Hermione’s only ever love, was killed at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort was killed too, but Hermione couldn’t be grateful. Her love was dead.

Along with Harry, Ron died, trying to protect Hermione. Hermione had figured out in her sixth year that Ron was in love with her, but she had to let him down as kindly as possible, for there could only be one love for her: Harry Potter. So her two best friends in the world, one which she was in love with, were dead, and she wasn’t going home for Christmas because her parents were in Australia visiting distant
relatives.

Hermione sighed and leaned up against a wall in the Great Hall. Three days until Christmas, and Dumbledore had decided to hold a Christmas Ball for all of the students who were at Hogwarts over the holidays to attempt to cheer up their spirits. There were many more students at Hogwarts over vacation, mostly because everyone’s parents were dead. You see, before Voldemort attacked Harry, he visited houses of all pureblood wizarding families and asked them to join his side. If they resisted, they were murdered.

So, basically, the dance wasn’t fun. Everyone was still depressed, and as much as Dumbledore was looking forward to Christmas, no one else could join in the spirit. Hermione scanned the room, looking for anyone she could talk with. She didn’t recognize anyone that looked happy, so she kept looking around the room. And then her eyes fell on him: Draco Malfoy. He’s awfully handsome, she thought to herself and instantly shook the thought out of her head. Where did that come from?

Hermione felt her stomach rumbling, and walked over to the table of refreshments, her pastel blue dress robes, gliding on the floor. She was reaching for a Chocolate Frog as her hand collided with someone else’s she looked up into the face of Draco. She sighed, pulled her hand away and glared at him.

"Well, hello, Mudblood. What’s the matter, no friends?" he drawled, his silvery hair laying limply on top of his pale forehead.

Hermione’s frown faltered, and she felt tears forming in her eyes. "Lay off of me, Malfoy. I’d have thought that you’d have a heart around Christmas, especially right after Voldemort attacked us all, leaving everyone, especially me, depressed, but no. You’re still up to your old game of tormenting me. What the hell did I ever do to you?" She turned, tears flowing out of her eyes, and walked away quickly and quietly.

Hermione gasped when she felt someone tug at her arm. She turned around, bleary-eyed, and found Draco, and she couldn’t resist the urge to slap him across the face. His light blue eyes grew wide, and he winced as he touched the spot where she had slapped him. His hand fell off her arm and he looked up at her with the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

"I wanted to tell you I was sorry," he whispered, looking down at the ground. "I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you the past seven years. You aren’t the only person who lost someone, you know."

Hermione immediately felt a pang in her heart for him. "Draco…I-I’m sorry. Wh-who was it?" she said timidly, touching his arm softly.

Draco looked up at her, eyes remorseful. "My best friend, Mark. He went to Durmstrang, but he was my next door neighbor. He was at his friend’s house when Voldemort attacked, and Voldemort didn’t realize that he was…who he was."

"Oh…my…Draco…I…" Hermione was at a loss of words, so she did the first thing that came to mind…she hugged him. Draco hugged her back tightly, and their tears fell on top on one another.

Finally, Hermione pulled away, and having nothing else to do, looked up. "Look," she whispered, "mistletoe." Draco couldn’t resist the urge, and pulled her into a kiss.

The two of them were both finally happy. And so was the ghost of Harry Potter, who stood next to the happy couple and whispered "Merry Christmas, Hermione."