Notes: Thanks to Strictly Dramione for giving us yet another magical fest!
My endless gratitude to my friend RooOJoy for being my second set of eyes and making my writing better. All errors that are left are my own!
Prompts: 1) Trapped by a snowstorm; 2) Draco uses magic to create the ultimate winter wonderland for Hermione.
I hope I made these prompts justice!
JK Rowling owns everything, I'm just playing in her wonderful world.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, please.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays!

Feel The Magic

22nd of December - London

With a sharp inhale through his nose, Auror Potter lightly tapped his knuckles on the red mahogany door before him.

Nothing happened.

After rubbing a hand through his messy hair, Harry knocked again. This time with force. He shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. He was hesitant about resorting to certain low means, but the person on the other side of the door was his best, and last, chance to get what he wanted.

The door cracked open. A grey eye peered through the slit, squinting as soon as the light hit it. A hoarse, sleep heavy voice came through. "Potter? Don't you have any manners? You woke me up..."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "It's two in the afternoon, Malfoy. May I come in?"

With a grunt and some huffing, the wizard inside stepped aside, letting Harry in.

The flat appeared chaotic. It seemed as though a herd of centaurs galloped through it. Clothing - mostly suits and dress shoes - lay abandoned on the wooden floor and sofas. Empty bottles of expensive liquor cluttered the tops of every piece of furniture; there were no glasses - Malfoy probably didn't bother using them, drinking right from the source. Bandages and vials full of healing potions occupied a large dragon hyde trunk suitcase.

Malfoy was standing next to the door, running his fingers through hair that rivalled Harry's in unkemptness. His wand was lowered to his side but held firmly between his fingers. The Auror's trained eye could tell that Draco had been aiming it at him when he first answered the knocking.

With pursed lips, Harry observed his former school rival and bully. The wizard was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, the Slytherin crest displayed on one leg. His chest and stomach bore cuts and bruises. His face and arms were in no better shape. The Auror could tell that Malfoy had already tried to heal his most recent bruises and cuts by the faint yellow blotches under his eyes and above his mouth.

Draco's jaw clenched as he moved to the centre of the sitting room where there were two red leather couches opposite of each other, a crystal top table between them. After a flick of his wand sent some clothing flying into the air, Malfoy sank into one of the sofas. With a grunt of pain, he sprawled himself out, leaving a leg hanging off the side and covering his eyes with one arm.

The Auror took a seat on the opposite sofa and addressed his rude host. "You look rough."

"Coming from the scar headed boy…what do you want?" Draco quipped with a sneer on his lips.

"Don't be snarky with me. Did you have a particularly difficult round at the duelling club last night?" Harry asked with a wolfish grin.

Suddenly interested, Draco moved his arm from his face and stared at Harry with a smirk. After two breaths he spoke, "What duelling club? They are illegal now, you should know…and if you came here to fish, I don't have time for you."

"Trust me, I would like to spend my time differently as well, but I need your help," Harry stated with a slight grimace. He desperately wished that there was another way, but this was his last resort.

The blond wizard sat up, beaming at Harry. "The saviour of the wizarding world needs help from a reformed Death Eater? I told you from the start that I'm the kind of person you want as a friend."

Harry sighed heavily, taking his glasses off and inspecting them for any dirt. "Malfoy, we are not eleven anymore, you should let go of the fact that I don't want to be friends with a tosser like you." Slipping his glasses back on his head and pushing them up his nose again, he searched the inside pocket of his cloak and extracted a piece of parchment. He perused it once, and then placed it on the table. His green eyes met the face of the man before him and with a worried look on his face, he let out what he had come to say, "Hermione made a rushed decision."

Draco's eyebrows shot up as he blinked in confusion.

Harry straightened his back before he explained, "She gave up her magic. She renounced her power."

Malfoys lips twitched twice before he broke into a full belly laugh. "So?" he managed to ask while his mirth slowly died down.

Harry started rambling, "She decided to step away from our world. She broke down and went into the Muggle world not long after the war. I let it happen at first, thinking it might help her heal and that she would come back, but no, she isolated herself. She refuses to talk to any magical person. She's alone, her parents-"

Draco rose a hand to interrupt him, his face contorted in a grimace. "Whoa, whoa. You are giving me a headache. Again, Potter...so? What does it have to do with me?"

"Every person that loves her has tried to talk to her, but they all received a door in their face. I thought that perhaps an old enemy might succeed in changing her mind. I want you to talk to her," Harry almost begged him.

Draco summoned a packet of cigarettes and lit one. He took a long drag and then exhaled the smoke while talking, "Why would I care what Granger does with her magic? As far as you know, I'm utterly thrilled that a Muggleborn went back to live with the Muggles."

Harry smiled. "As far as I know, you don't think that. Your charity work and your help in the rebuilding after the war tell me otherwise."

"I still don't give a shite about Granger," Draco quickly clipped. He was eager to make a point of it; perhaps a little too rapidly, Harry thought. "I also doubt that she would listen to me," Draco finished. He continued smoking his cigarette, flicking the ash carelessly onto the sofa. Once his smoke was burnt out, Draco stretched his back while rubbing his ribs in pain. He put out the fag with a wand flick while his grey irises met Harry's green eyes. "I must admit, what she did proves that she is the smartest witch of our age. She's better off without your suicidal ways." He took another cigarette from the pack and spun it between his fingers without lighting it.

Harry's eyes narrowed before he spoke, "I was hoping to avoid this but…" His Auror interrogation and criminal persuasion techniques kicked in. "Either you help, or your illegal duelling club in Knockturn is destined to be short-lived. So is your life out of prison."

Malfoys eyebrows flickered, a furrow forming on his forehead, followed by a smirkingly crooked smile, one corner of his lips slightly higher than the other. "Blackmailing, Auror Potter? The knight of the Light side has gone bad. I'm impressed."

Harry shrugged while using his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He wanted his best friend back, and he was prepared to do anything in order to achieve that. He tapped his finger on the piece of parchment on the table. "This is her last known address. Bring her back, and the very thick folder about the duelling venue that Aurors have at the Department will magically disappear."

"You are bluffing. Aurors have nothing on me," Draco confidently stated. With a shrug, he stood up and approached the door with obvious intent to show Harry out. "Don't even pretend you have anything on me. I know this because-"

"Because Auror Nott is your inside man...I know. Theo and I had lunch some time ago, I might have spiked his drink with Veritaserum." Harry also stood, snickering.

"Bollocks," Draco shouted and he began pacing the sitting room, evaluating his scant options. He then stopped, looked directly into Harry's eyes, and made an offer. "I'll talk to her then I'm clean."

With a triumphant smile, Harry extended a hand. "Convince her to return, and it all goes away. You're not in any position to negotiate the deal."

Draco's eyes darted back and forth between Harry's offered hand and his eyes. "You Macchiavellic bastard. You could pass for a Slytherin." He let out a slow breath before continuing, "I want everything on parchment and sent to my attorney."

"I would have made Salazar proud. The Sorting Hat thought so too." Harry sniggered. "You have until the end of the year."

Malfoy extended his pale arm and with a strong grip, he shook the Aurors hand.

Hermione's hate for Christmas was reaching dangerous levels. She growled at the radio while switching stations again and again in order to escape the incessant Christmas carols. The jolly tunes were just infuriating earworms to her.

The traffic light turned green. She stepped on the gas, only to be forced to brake again shortly after due to a moronic pedestrian who had crossed the road without looking to their right first.

Damned tourists.

The week before Christmas, London was a madhouse full of people running their last errands. Last minute gifts, late grocery shopping, and happy strolls through the park were getting on Hermione's nerves. People seemed to forget how to drive during Christmas. Everyone was too busy glancing at storefronts to pay attention to the road.

The snow was the worst. Humanity, somehow, couldn't figure out how to exist in the snow. Everybody walked about with sparkling eyes, gazing toward the sky and paying no attention to their surroundings. Moreover, the flakes made Hermione's hair fizz up and unmanageable.

At the next intersection, the familiar and irritating jingle of another holiday song pushed her to swear. Christmas was just an annoyance. It was the time of the year when people lost their brains. After finally switching the stereo to CD input, she started shuffling through songs.

She used to love the Holidays, but then Godric's Hollow happened and another Christmas without her family followed. She was done. She couldn't feel the Christmas magic anymore. She couldn't feel any magic at all, for that matter. A little smile pulled her lips up when she finally heard the first notes of the song that she had been looking for. Fuck you, an ode to no one by the Smashing Pumpkins. It was her tune lately.

As Hermione pulled into the parking lot beside her residence hall at the University she was attending, a small twitchy owl swooped down and landed on the hood of her car. A letter attached to its leg. She would recognize that bird everywhere. Pigwidgeon. It was probably Molly, inviting her to the Weasley's Christmas dinner like every year.

Hermione listened to the song, singing along and ignoring Pig.

You can't bring me back, you can't bring me back
'Cause I gave it all back to you
Through sacred alleys, the living wrecks
Wreak their havoc upon this world
The disenchanted, the romantics
The body and face and soul of you is gone down that deep black hole.

With the car still running, she stepped on the clutch, put it in reverse, and left. The owl took off with a scared screech.

Time to go out of the city.

Hermione drove for hours until she was deep into the countryside. She found a little town and after asking information about propriety rentals, she chose a small cabin deep in the woods where she planned to spend the Holidays undisturbed.

The best thing about her cottage was the lack of Christmas decorations. It was cosy and warm, built entirely with wood. As the daylight started dying out, Hermione found herself in front of a roaring fire with a hot cup of tea in her hands, enjoying the quiet night on the sofa.

The wind was howling outside when the first snowflakes started to fall. Hermione set the cup on the side table next to the couch and approached the window. Everything was silent for a moment as the wind had died down, and Hermione smiled at the stillness of nature, the spiralling descent of the snow the only movement.

Relishing in that peace, she walked to her bed and opened a novel book. Soon sleep took over.