Merry Christmas Mr. Malfoy (Book 1)

Chapter 1 : Hermione Granger's To-Do List

Hermione Granger's To-Do List

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."

"Oh, it was no problem. I had some free time, anyways."

The soft, musical voice filtered through the air, singsongy and gentle, as though every spoken word was a lyric to a slow melody. Pale blue eyes met amber as two, very opposite, women sat before one another at the back of the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione fiddled nervously with a notebook before her, bending the pages, playing with the cover as she fought back all nervousness and dared to move forward.

Luna smiled encouragingly from her seat, taking a small sip from her Butterbeer before going back to what she was doing before, sitting and smiling with a glazed look in her eyes.

"What would you do," Hermione fingered the quill stationed beside the notebook, "if you were, say, to meet someone who, well...never had a Christmas?"

Luna arched a pale brow, curiosity causing her blue eyes to obtain an eerie glow. "Are you talking about Draco Malfoy?"

Her perception was perfect; Luna had always had this strange ability to pick up on the slightest of things and understand the unspoken words. Hermione had to admit that Luna Lovegood would make one exceptional psychiatrist, if only it weren't for the fact that she sounded insane half of the time.

The blush darkening Hermione's cheeks was answer enough and Luna's lips formed a gentle smile. Everything about the girl was gentle; she reminded Hermione of a thin tree, willowy and flexible, constantly swaying gently in the breeze, every touch gentle, every word soft, and every action tender. But, Hermione reminded herself as she recalled the Second Great War, like the small tree, Luna was sturdy and supportive.

Gnawing on her lower lip, chastising herself by reminding herself that, one day, she would cut her lip, Hermione silently recalled why she had gone to Luna for this particular subject rather than her best friend, Ginevra Weasley.

The fact was, if Hermione were to go to Ginny about any topic related to Draco Malfoy, kind or not, Ginny would respond with the most typical of Weasley reaction, unadulterated hatred directed towards the blond ferret. While Draco had proved to be most useful during the war, coming to their aid when the world seemed ready to be swallowed by darkness, many people still had reservations about the Malfoy.

Then again, not many people had seen what Hermione had seen, and not as many were plagued by the nightmarish memories that tormented the brunette as the slept. But those were for another time and another place, for this time and place was reserved for one topic in particular.

Mr. Malfoy's lack of Christmas joy.

Luna was perfect for this; while she was Ginny's close friend, she held no grudges and had this innocent, naïve aloofness about her that told Hermione she would not be biased or crude in her advice.

"So, Draco Malfoy has never had a real Christmas?" A strange, not-so-innocent, wicked gleam made Luna's eyes glow eerily once more. "Well, on Christmas morning, why don't you just lie under the tree and ask him to unwrap you?"

Hermione was grateful that she had not been drinking at the time, for even now she spluttered and choked loudly, coughing violently as she mentally crossed off naïve and innocent in her description of Luna.

"W...WHAT?" the brunette managed to cry once she stopped choking and regained whatever breath was left in her body.

Luna's smiled broadened just a touch and a small chuckle escaped her rosy, unpainted lips. "That would help him have a real Christmas, right? I suppose if you're not willing to do it, then we could find somebody who is willing," she drifted off, her eyes glazing as she tapped her chin with a long finger.