The Nutcracker Pas de Deux

"It was a tradition in my family. I couldn't tell you how or when it started, just that it never felt like Christmas until my parents and I sat through another production of it. It's not the most sophisticated of ballets, but it's a lovely and fun story."

She gestured her quill at the picture. "They used to take me every year. Some of those Christmases when I stayed at Hogwarts I always regretted not being able to go with them. And now that they're... gone... I love to go just to remind myself of those times. I like to think there's a happy couple in Australia who does the same."

Her parents. On the other side of the world with no memory of her. Would they still have the same entertainment preferences? Would this still be the highlight of their Christmas season? Would they feel like someone was missing from their lives? Would they have odd thoughts about how there should be a little girl with a mop of curls bouncing in her seat in between them?

Her eyes suddenly snapped from the picture to her silent co-worker.

"Oh! Sorry! You didn't need to stand there and listen to all that! Here," she blushed and finished scribbling down the theatre address and walking directions from the nearest apparition point.

"Thank you for the suggestion," he uttered in a cordial monotone.

"Ron and I are going next Friday night. Would you like me to purchase the tickets for you?"

"No, I can manage. Thank you."

The chords of her favourite movement started and pulled Hermione back into the present.

Hermione lost herself in her coveted Christmas pastime. She thought of being a little girl, sitting in this theatre between her mum and dad. A type of magic she'd experienced before she even knew her own powers existed.

When the performers took their final bows and the curtain closed, Hermione glanced back up at the Malfoys.

Narcissa stood and clapped along with the rest of the audience, a charmed smile on her face. Hermione watched her turn to her son, alight with joy as she said something excitedly and squeezed his hand. Hermione grinned to herself as Ron slung an arm around her shoulders and they made their way to the exit.

The following Monday, she looked up at the sound of knuckles against the door frame. Draco politely thanked Hermione for the recommendation and insisted his mother had a lovely time and also passed along her gratitude.

As he made to leave, Hermione called him back. "Wait! You've got to tell me what you thought of the performance! Which dance was your favourite?"

He seemed surprised that she would ask his opinion on the matter.

"Oh I... I suppose I don't have one. Which one is yours?"

Hermione wagged a teasing finger in his direction.

"Nope, not telling until you've said yours so we can have a proper debate or discussion. I suppose there's always next year."

His parting, genuine grin made her breath catch.

"Next year then."

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December 2004

She attended with Ron. He attended with his mother.

Sweet, loyal Ron. They teetered on the cusp of disaster. She knew it, he knew it. But for tonight, Ron played the part of dutiful boyfriend. She would always be his friend, but she'd miss this about him, this constant and easy comfort. He knew the special place The Nutcracker held in her heart and so for tonight, the depressing and inevitable talk of going separate ways, for good this time, would be tabled.