Author's Note: Written for I_was_BOTWP as a part of a Secret Santa exchange. I hope you enjoy this little dose of holiday fluff!

Hermione couldn't stop staring at the clock. It was already half-past ten.

The plopping of a stack of parchment snapped her attention forward. She hadn't even heard anyone come in. But as she should have suspected, only one wizard had such audacity, and she was soon met with a stupid smirk and a pale quirked eyebrow.

"Surely the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has something better to do with her time."

Hermione shot the wizard an unamused glare before snatching the top parchment. "Perhaps if you had completed these updated reports yesterday as originally promised, I would have been able to start my part on them by now!"

But after several years of working in the same department, Malfoy was no longer susceptible to Hermione's highly justifiable criticism. He merely brushed it off as he surveyed the multitude of other parchments scattered across her desk.

"So you expect me to believe that because I asked for a one-day extension — which you granted I must add — there's nothing more pressing for you to do right now than watch the passing seconds?"

Of course there were other things Hermione had to do! The Improper Use of Magic Division was currently undergoing a complete restructuring of its monitoring process to remove the unfair added surveillance of young witches and wizards in non-magical homes, and the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office was once again requesting her input on their latest prohibition on magical alterations on Muggle objects. And yet, she still couldn't stop staring at the clock.

"So what is it that you're so impatiently looking at the time for?"

Malfoy awaited Hermione's response, but she revealed nothing. This was none of his business! They were working professionals participating in a silly holiday tradition, and—

"Let me guess," Malfoy smugly stated. "Your Secret Santa hasn't yet delivered their present for the day."

"That's absurd," she quickly countered, though it did nothing to hide the instant reddening of her cheeks. "I'm sure it will show up by the end of the day."

Most annoyingly, Malfoy wasn't fooled in the slightest. "Really now? Then do you care to explain this?"

Malfoy grabbed one of the parchments on her desk, too quick for Hermione to stop him.

"Give that back!"

Malfoy shifted so the parchment was farther out of her reach as he perused its contents. " 'Gift always on my desk before 8:30 am.' 'Person must know how to use Muggle currency.' And this is quite the detailed chart you've created!"

Hermione glowered. "That's not for you to see."

"And why not?" Malfoy sounded far too entertained. "I see my name right here."

Hermione rounded her desk and snatched the parchment back into her possession. But it was too late. Malfoy had already read it and was now chuckling.

"Are you really that curious to figure out who your Secret Santa is? Eliminating options based on your theories and observations?"

The blushing of her cheeks deepened. "I don't like surprises."

Malfoy once again chuckled. "And yet, despite her desperate need, the great Hermione Granger has failed to pin-point who her Secret Santa is before tonight's reveal at the department's holiday party." He smirked. "Perhaps it's time you called for a talented Auror's investigative expertise?"

"The next time I see one, I'll make sure to ask," Hermione brusquely quipped.

Yet Malfoy did not back down.

"Always such the flatterer," he returned with a presumptuous grin. "But now that these reports are submitted, I suppose I could assist in your pressing plight."

Hermione knew he was mocking her, but she didn't bother protesting. Besides, Malfoy had already seen her notes on the subject, so at this point, what further harm could there be? And there was that pesky problem of how much she really did want to figure it out before tonight...

"Fine," she eventually accepted. "Then we better review everything I know."

Malfoy waved his hand. "Be my guest."

Hermione paced across her office, starting at the very beginning. "The Secret Santa gift exchange was intended to boost department comradery in the days leading up to Christmas. So instead of doing just one present this year, Secret Santas were to give a series of smaller presents across the past five days."

"Yes, yes, I'm fully aware," Malfoy drawled. "Skip ahead to what you know about your Secret Santa."

"Every other day this week, the present had been on my desk by the time I arrived," Hermione continued, racking her memory for all pertinent details. "Which means that they're a planner and not someone who scrambles to prepare the day of. But more notably, they had to have been in my office before in order to be able to use the magic necessary to envision my desk and charm a present onto its surface."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. " Or they asked someone who has been in your office to do it."

"Already considered and not likely," Hermione dismissed. "I helped with the initial organisation by charming the sign-up parchment so that if someone broke the rules and told anyone who they had, giant blisters would form across their cheeks. So unless you've spotted someone with that ailment, we can safely eliminate that possibility."

"Ah, the wrath of Hermione Granger lives on," Malfoy amused. "Then I stand corrected. You may continue."

"Yes, well, that piece of information eliminates a significant portion of the department. Which takes us to the next major set of clues, the presents."

"Which were?"

"Monday was simple," Hermione began. "A tin of gingerbread biscuits."

"A holiday classic. Something you could gift to anyone. Lazy. "

"I concluded as much at first, too," Hermione initially agreed. "But then I noticed that they were from a bakery in Hampstead Garden Suburb."

Malfoy furrowed his brow. "Where?"

"Hampstead Garden Suburb," Hermione repeated. "It's where I grew up."

"Could be a coincidence," Malfoy said with a flippant shrug. "But an interesting observation. What were the other presents?"

"Tuesday was a book about the history and contents of the British Library, Wednesday was a candle charmed to alternate between the scents of new parchment and freshly mown grass, and yesterday was a set of knitting needles with cats etched into the rounded tops."

Hermione expected Malfoy to determine for himself the significance of all those gifts, but he appeared unimpressed.

"Are those supposed to mean something to me?"

"Yes!" Hermione promptly retorted. "They're all the opposite of lazy! All things that were clearly carefully picked out for me!"

Malfoy snorted. "Then congratulations, Granger. Sounds as though your Secret Santa was one of the few who actually put effort into their presents."

"Which makes it all the more curious why today's present hasn't arrived yet," Hermione added. "Whoever it is clearly knows me quite well and took the time to consider what I would actually want instead of getting me something generic."

Malfoy reviewed the parchment containing her notes without opposition this time. "Which is how you narrowed down this list?"

"Precisely. Though it's still not all that helpful. With half the Auror department being our former classmates, any one of them could be my Secret Santa."

Malfoy chuckled as he handed the parchment back. "And yet I notice my name crossed-off from consideration."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't even bother pretending, Malfoy. You were an easy one to eliminate. We both know that you're more of a receiver than a giver. These presents are far too thoughtful." She sniggered. "Though I quite enjoy picturing you wandering the streets of the Muggle suburbs trying to figure out what to get me."

"All fair conclusions," Malfoy returned with a snort. "But I believe there's something you've failed to consider when oh-so-carefully guessing your Secret Santa."

"And just what might that be?"

"Perhaps you're following a false lead," Malfoy said with a grin. "And perhaps you have a secret admirer."

...

The rest of the workday had been a wash. Hermione couldn't stop thinking about what Malfoy had said. Was it really possible that there was someone in their department who secretly fancied her?

Throughout the holiday party, Hermione had been carefully watching the guests for any revealing indicators of hidden feelings. Nearly an hour in, she had yet to spot anything of significance. That was, of course, disregarding the several winks Cormac McLaggen had shot her way. But that was nothing new. The slimy Auror hadn't changed one bit in the five years since they had all left Hogwarts. Merlin, she hoped her Secret Santa wasn't him!

"Champagne?"

Hermione whipped around to discover Malfoy offering her a flute. His all-black, finely-tailored dress robes likely cost more than her entire month's salary. Though, she did have to admit that he looked rather dashing. For being Malfoy .

Sceptically, Hermione accepted the drink. "This is uncharacteristically nice of you."

Malfoy chuckled. "Perhaps I'm not as thoughtless as you perceive me to be."

"I doubt it."

The conversation paused as they both took a short sip.

"So," Malfoy continued once his glass was lowered. "Secret Santa reveals are in five minutes. Have you figured yours out yet?"

Hermione released a disappointed sigh. "Still not definitively. I narrowed it down a bit further, but those eliminations were based purely on circumstantial conjecture. My final present never arrived."

Malfoy considered the information. "Perhaps they were sick today?"

"The only people who reported being sick today were Howards, Wells, and Douser, and I had already eliminated them as possibilities."

He released another short chuckle. "Sounds like someone did their homework," Malfoy amusedly remarked. "Although, how could I expect anything less from Hermione Granger?"

A small, instinctive heat prickled at her cheeks. "I suppose some habits never change," she returned. "Yet all that effort appears to have been for nought. It's highly unlikely that I'm going to suddenly figure it out in the next few minutes."

She once again scanned her vision over the crowd of Ministry employees. Someone here was her Secret Santa. But who?

"You look good, by the way."

Hermione pulled her attention back to the wizard beside her, surprised to see not a single trace of insincerity.

"Thank you," she tentatively accepted. Perhaps the spirit of the holidays had inspired him to be kinder than usual? Or maybe a few flutes of champagne were already affecting his judgment?

"Aren't you going to say it back?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "In need of an ego boost?"

Malfoy smirked. "Never hurts."

If he was trying to distract her, it wasn't working. Her mind was still fixated on the matter at hand.

"I must be missing something," she said, mostly to herself. "There has to be a reason why I didn't get a present today. Did they run out of ideas? Or just forget?"

"Perhaps," Malfoy returned, a devilish grin starting to twitch up his lips. "Or perhaps they wanted to save the last present for in person."

Hermione shot him a side-long glance. "That's not how Secret Santa is supposed to—"

Malfoy conjured a small wrapped box and levitated it in front of her. Hermione blankly stared at the present. Surely this didn't mean…

"Open it."

It took considerable effort to force her hands into action. But after several stunned seconds, she removed the bow and lifted the lid to reveal a simple rolled-up parchment. She peered at Malfoy in confusion before unravelling it.

Redeemable for one dinner with me tomorrow evening.

Words failed Hermione as the clock struck nine and an illuminated name appeared before her.

Draco Malfoy

It took several seconds for the revelation to fully sink in.

"You're my Secret Santa?" she eventually managed.

Malfoy was still grinning, completing ignoring the name of his own Secret Santa. "Surprise."

The logistics of everything were whirling in her mind. "But how did you know what to get me?"

"I've known you for over a decade, Granger," he easily responded. "You think I haven't learned anything about you? Of course you like that big Muggle library; you spent half your time in Hogwarts with your nose in a book. And we all heard you say your favourite scents during Potions class sixth year. As for the knitting needles?" He laughed. "You'd have to be blind to have not seen you knitting all those awful hats fourth year."

Hermione was still confused. "But what about my hometown?"

"You mentioned it once during an Auror mission debriefing meeting," he said as though it was no big deal that he remembered such a small detail about her.

Yet something still wasn't adding up.

"I just don't understand. If you were my Secret Santa, then what was that in my office this morning? And why did you bother putting in all that effort for me? "

Malfoy snorted. "I thought that'd be obvious enough for you to figure out by now. I had to ensure you didn't suspect me." That grin of his somehow kept growing. "That, and it was quite enjoyable to see you get all flustered."

"But why put in all that effort for me?"

"I already told you this morning," he said, taking a step closer. "Perhaps you have a secret admirer."

Hermione couldn't believe it. Malfoy? Sure, they were no longer on bad terms, but there was no way…

"Don't overthink it," Malfoy said, as though able to anticipate the downward spiral her brain was about to dive into. "I've simply come to recognise that you're an intelligent, attractive witch who I'd appreciate the opportunity to get to know better — outside of work and outside of our past — and see if there could be something between us." A mischievous glint shown in his eyes. "And all it took was a silent, wandless Summoning Charm of your name when pulling my gift recipient out of the bag."

A firm glower tainted Hermione's features. "That's definitely not how Secret Santa is supposed to work!"

But Malfoy remained entirely unfazed. "Didn't anticipate that loophole, did you?" He winked, self-assuredness radiating off of him. "So, what do you say, Granger? Dinner with me tomorrow?"

A hundred reasons to say 'no' flashed through her mind. His clear disregard for rules. Her potentially judgemental friends. Their muddled, complicated history. And yet, she didn't reject the invitation.

Now that Malfoy had brought up the possibility of something between them, it had sparked a curiosity in her — a curiosity that could only be resolved with one answer. And regardless of whether one blamed it on holiday spirit, too much champagne, or just a temporary lapse in proper logic, Hermione was becoming sure of her response.

"Alright," she said, a mix of nerves and flutters stirring inside her. She then rushed to clarify, "But no more surprises!"

A broad, triumphant smile stretched across his lips. "It's a date."