The Shattered Dragon

Chapter 10: Swathed in Silk

"It won't always be like this," Sarah said quietly. "We just have to survive for now, right? We won't always need him. But you could be suffering under the thumb of worse people, no? We won't always be here, hiding who we are."

"Out there I was helping people," Hermione said, swiping two fingers across her damp cheeks. "I was arrested for embezzling money. I used it to pay for potions and food, rent...not for me...for others, my friends' parents and grandparents...now they have no one...I was"

A burst of laughter and applause from the other side of the room caught their attention and the two girls looked up to see Draco with a blindfold over his eyes, being spun in a circle by two of the other girls. He stumbled and wavered on his feet, his arms outstretched as he tried to snatch the little Santa Claus figure hovering in the air in front of him. Even as he failed in his task, his smile was wide, his whole demeanor relaxed with his tie loose and the first buttons of his shirt undone. His pale cheeks were flushed pink from the champagne and the fire.

"I think you're here to help someone else," Sarah said, patting Hermione's back before standing up to join the others.

Draco stood up and tapped a silver spoon against his glass to get everyone's attention.

"Time for bed," he said, raising his glass. His words were just beginning to slur. "Don't forget to hang up your fishnet stockings. Santa likes to leave rewards for good girls."

He winked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes but still smiled at him. There was something infectious about this Draco...a bit tipsy and paternal, a light behind his eyes that she didn't see at any other time. Christmas was another way for him to detach, to gloss over the cracked surface of his life with champagne and parties and gifts and pretend they were all somewhere else...someone else...that they were in a different world. She rubbed her hand over the brand on her arm and watched as he made his rounds about the room kissing each girl on the cheek, accepting hugs and words of thanks. None of these girls knew him before. They'd never seen the sneering, bitter name-calling or hateful bigotry he'd displayed in school. He still wore a shroud of darkness, a short temper and sharp tongue, but in this room he was a benefactor, a prince, a hero. In this world he was good.

Perhaps he wasn't locking them into the mansion.

Perhaps he was locking everything else in the world out.

On Christmas morning she found a small green box outside her room wrapped in a silver ribbon. It tugged at her heart to see his old house colors represented, the remnants of a tradition that didn't exist anymore, a world that didn't exist. The small white tag was handwritten in an elegant, narrow script.

Happy Christmas Granger.

Hope this brings you good memories of times past.

-DM

Nestled in black velvet inside the box was a pristine copy of Hogwarts - A History. With tears filling her eyes, she ran her fingers over the embossed leather cover and gold script title. The spine crackled as she opened the cover to read his inscription. "To Hermione, who already had it memorized...Christmas 2008. Draco"

Most of Hogwarts had been destroyed in the war, but a few classes after Hermione's had managed to graduate with a skeleton staff, doing their best to keep the traditions alive amidst the rubble and ruin. Eventually, the Puritan Wizards (as Voldemort named them) grew tired of seeing halfbloods and muggleborns treated with any modicum of respect, never mind the audacity of being granted an education and Hogwarts was closed altogether, the castle razed to the ground, burying a thousand years of history along with it. Any mention of the school was met with punishment and all known copies of Hogwarts - A History were ceremoniously burned in front of Voldemort's mansion. Bookstores, libraries, antiquities dealers were all threatened with fire, imprisonment and violence if they kept even a single copy of the book. Filling the hearts and minds of the impure with hope for a better life, reminding them of the idyllic past, reminding them of Harry Potter, simply could not be allowed.