All They Want For Christmas...

Proposing

The funeral of Narcissa Malfoy went as smoothly as could be expected. Overall, Narcissa had been a rather popular member of the Wizarding community. Her betrayal of Voldemort during the war was legendary, causing a great turnout of her admirers, and the pure blood families remaining were obligated to go for appearance's sake. Attendance was high, tears were bountiful, and respects were paid.

Roughly two months had passed and it was now August 25th. Draco was coping relatively well, considering he'd lost his mother before he'd turned twenty-one. Most attributed this to the ever-constant presence of his loving girlfriend. Hermione had taken great pains to ensure that Draco was all right. She stayed home from work with him (Celeste was understanding, to say the least), took him lunch when he went back to work, and got him out of their apartment at night. Hermione knew Draco was heartbroken and that he was trying to be strong.

But he'd lost his mother.

No one expected him to be strong.

And yet, life moves on and people cope and the world continues to turn. A portrait of Narcissa now graced Draco's office at home, and Hermione found him in there a decent amount of time talking to her likeness. She didn't blame him, nor did she discourage it. Draco was a strong, smart young man and she knew that eventually the pain would start to fade and he'd spend less time with the portrait. He was grieving right now, and she had no desire to interfere with that. She'd read a few books on grieving and the human psyche since the war and felt that she should just let nature take its course and just be supportive. Sure, she'd lost plenty of people close to her, but not her parents. She wanted to make sure she was doing everything possible to help him. Draco noticed her effort and couldn't even put into words how grateful he was for her. It only made him love her all the more, which is why on August 25th, Draco invited his best friend Blaise out to lunch at the one place he knew Hermione would never think he would set foot in, much less set foot in herself. Madame Pudifoot's in Hogsmeade.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Draco?" Blaise asked when Draco apparated them there. "Are you off your rocker? Do you not remember how many horrid dates we suffered through here?"

"I know," Draco snapped, "but it's the only place I can be absolutely certain Hermione won't catch us..."

"Catch us doing what? We're having lunch, you tosser." The pair walked inside and was mentally transported back to their time at Hogwarts. The place hadn't changed a bit... Well, maybe it had gotten pinker, but Draco and Blaise were too busy holding back gags to notice. After the pair had been seated (with many strange looks by the café's patrons), Blaise narrowed his eyes at Draco. "You owe me for this. I'm going to need a shower when I get back to wash off this horrid color. I can practically taste it."

Draco nodded his agreement. "I owe you. I get it, but I brought you here for a very important reason." Blaise looked at him expectantly. Draco took a deep breath and looked his friend straight in the eye. "I'm going to propose to Hermione."

Explosions. Three of them. Hermione threw open the door of her experiment room, sprinting down the hall to Charles' experiment room. Whenever there was an explosion, she knew exactly where it was coming from. It was always Charles. When she reached the hallway that led to his room, she saw Celeste already there with a worried look on her face. Hermione and the older woman met eyes and Celeste shrugged. Hermione finally jogged up to the door just as Charles threw it open and stumbled out coughing. He glanced up through the smoke and saw Celeste and Hermione standing there.

"Bloody women, I'm alright! I'm always alright!"

"Language, Charles," Celeste reprimanded and Hermione hid a chuckle. "That was three explosions, you fool. What are you working on in there?"