The afternoon walk through the market was impromptu, an errand from Marella’s chef who’d discovered that the fibrous root vegetables he’d intended to make for their Christmas dinner were rotten. Harry had organized the feast, and spent most of the morning reiterating ingredients with the chef to ensure there would be treacle tart. It was a welcome errand, departing from the stuffy library that she’d holed up in since breakfast. Draco had disappeared early in the morning, kissing Hermione on the head and leaving without a word. Truthfully, she was feeling rather glum, being away from her family for Christmas, coupled with Draco's absence. Since the war, she spent every Christmas with her parents, and it hurt, the thought of them sitting by the tree, not knowing whether their daughter was safe. 