Hermione ate a very small breakfast on Christmas Day; Mrs Weasley always prepared a feast, and pushed food on everyone like she did knitted sweaters and love. Hermione always felt like she left five pounds heavier than when she'd arrived. She was up bright and early, as this year she'd offered to help Mrs Weasley with the cooking, and the Great Hall was quiet and empty. She frowned to herself, looking down into her lap at the bright paper wrapping up the small gift she had for Malfoy. Hermione had been hoping he might rise early as well, but it looked like she would have to either leave the gift on his seat for him to discover, or give it to him tomorrow. She felt a bit stupid getting him anything at all, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, even if he would probably scoff at it.