It’s almost Christmas now   von Ryuuzaki
                      (a drarry christmas.. developement)
================================================================================
                           Kapitel 1: December, 1st
                           ------------------------


“He’s here again.” Hermione whispered.

Harry didn’t need to look up to know who she meant, but he did it anyway. From
his seat he had the perfect view of the table across from them, where the lean
blond decided to settle down. 

This wasn’t a new occurrence; lately Malfoy often chose the same times as them
to study in the library. It was not very surprising, since many of the current
‘eighth’ years could be found studying together in the quiet halls of the
library nowadays, along with the other seventh years.

It actually became rather crowed, but the background noise still was reduced to
the whisper of turning pages, the scratching of quills on parchments and the
occasional exchange of hushed words, albeit multiplied. The reason for this
controlled silence was Madam Pince, of course, who watched the students like a
hawk and kicked out anyone who dared to rise above the allowed
student-noise-percentage immediately. And studying in peace was too important
now to risk it.

His charms essay momentarily forgotten, Harry watched the Slytherin as he took a
seat and took some scrolls out of his bag. 

The thing that was new though was that since the beginning of term, he had never
seen Malfoy walk or speak with anyone else. In fact, he had never even heard him
say a word, except when he was called upon in class, which was very, very rare.
Harry quietly acknowledged to himself that it bothered him, because it was a
very drastic change from the Malfoy he knew before. Back then he had been
arrogant and boisterous in the picking on those he thought inferior to himself,
but the Malfoy he saw now seemed quiet, withdrawn and… lonely.  

Granted, two years ago it all went down the hill for him. But in their sixth
year at Hogwarts, Malfoy at least still had his minions and the other
Slytherins, even though he had been distracted and plotting. Harry had
personally seen what had happened with Crabbe and he’d probably never forget
the look of fear and horror he’s seen on Malfoy’s face when he saw his
friend fall into the flames. Goyle hadn’t even bothered to return for their
eighth year and the Slytherins that did… well they probably gave Malfoy a hard
time because he escaped Azkaban, while most of their parents didn’t. 
The blond has been let off (Harry’s stepping up for him at the trial probably
had something to do with it), but the terms were still harsh. The best part
certainly was that he had to return to Hogwarts for his last year. On the other
hand, he couldn’t choose not to attend and now had to face the hatred of his
former enemies and the scorn of his former friends. Additionally he was also
very limited in the use of magic; only allowed to perform it under supervision
and not more than twenty spells a day, which made practising new spells and
participation in lessons surely hard. There was more, but Harry didn’t
remember all of the terms they’ve read out with the verdict.

Harry had seen the Malfoy struggle for the last three month. Now it was the
beginning of December and he wondered how the blond was holding up. He knew from
experience how difficult that was when being publicly hated or ridiculed, but at
least he always had someone at his side during those times.

And it wasn’t just the limitations on his magic or the occasional verbal abuse
Malfoy had to suffer, but also minor almost daily attacks, though never had
anyone the guts to own up to it. The attacks could be called pranks: A tripping
jinx here, some of his stuff suddenly vanishing there, but it had gotten way out
of hand. Harry kept an eye open whenever he was near and saw it happening, but
the assailants never revealed themselves, just as Malfoy never complained.   
 
Just when Ron returned to his abandoned seat next to Hermione with a decayed
looking book in his hands, Malfoy looked over and his gaze met straight on with
Harry’s. The green orbs widened shortly, as he felt caught, before he quickly
glanced at his parchment, tilting his head forward so his eyes were shadowed by
his hair. Dipping his feather quill shortly into the ink pot he set it on the
paper to write the next sentence, when he remembered he had to think about what
he was going to write first. 

“Hope she’s not going to blame this on me…”, Ron whispered, holding the
manhandled book up to show what he meant, while nodding towards Madam Pince, who
just vanished between the shelves two rows away from them.

Harry nodded to him shortly in agreement before risking another glance at
Malfoy. The blond was already copying things out of a book with a Slytherin
green quill.  

While Harry didn’t notice the growing ink spot on his own parchment until a
few minutes later, Hermione’s hidden smile as she watched him from the corner
of her eyes when he looked over to the Slytherin once more went completely
unnoticed.



                           Kapitel 2: December, 2nd
                           ------------------------


Harry was up early for a Saturday morning, but actually it wasn’t so unusual
for him. While he never had been one for sleeping in, ever since they had gone
hunting horcruxes, almost one and a half years ago, Harry got used to waking up
in the early hours of the morning. Regular sleep became a rare luxury, even if
his rest wasn’t disturbed by unsettling memories or cruel made up images from
his subconscious. 

Even now, seven month after they’ve won the war and his personal reassurance
of no hurting scar since then, his sleeping schedule was nowhere near
normalising itself. The young adult did feel fatigued as of late, but he
contributed it more to the teacher’s and Hermione’s homework slavery, than
to the lack of proper sleep. At least, thanks to his friend, he managed to keep
up with the workload. Mostly. 

So, whenever he woke up while his dorm-mates still enjoyed the sleep of the
righteous, he used the extra time to take a long hot shower, go for a walk or
laze in front of the fire in the common room. As ‘eighth’ years, they had
been moved to an extra dorm, but were still part of Gryffindor tower which had
been magically extended for the time being. 

Dressed for the day the ravenette made his way down the stairs. Entering the
common room he saw blithely dancing flames already occupying the fireplace,
courtesy to the hardworking houseelves, but other than that, he was the only one
there. 

Flopping down in the comfortable armchair he sat in the night before, when
he’d been losing phenomenally in chess against Ron, he noticed his school bag
next to it and was promptly reminded of the unfinished potions essay he’s
stuffed in it when they lost motivation and decided to start a game, or five.
Groaning internally, Harry decided to ignore it for now and instead stared into
the warming, comforting fire, letting his mind wander to what he remembered of
the dream he had. 

Malfoy had been in it. They were on a broom, Harry piloting it and the blond sat
behind him with his arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist. Malfoy had been
shouting something, but Harry couldn’t understand a word because they were
caught in a raging storm, though he didn’t remember to hear the howling wind
that rendered them unable to move forward either. He just knew he couldn’t
fall back, couldn’t give up fighting through the storm, because there was
something terrible and dark behind them. Then, suddenly they were on a tower,
standing at opposite walls and the blond was talking, but Harry still wasn’t
able to hear anything, or didn’t remember what Malfoy had said in this dream.
What had eventually woken him was the urging look in the Slytherin’s piercing
silver eyes. The image still was in his head which Harry shook slightly, as if
he could throw it out this way. 

To distract himself he rummaged around in his bag and got the potions essay out.
He reread the half-hearted beginning he’d written, but wasn’t in the mood to
continue this now, so put the parchment away again. With a sigh he fell back
into the chair, letting his arms fall over the arms rests. 

In a few hours the last Quidditch game for this year was going to be played;
Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin. If Gryffindor would be playing the team probably would
have gotten up early and Harry could at least have someone to start a discussion
about the upcoming game with, but as it was he decided to not get his hopes up.
Though his spirits lifted when he thought that after the match the teams
probably will put a hold on training for this year and the quidditch pitch could
be free tomorrow for him to fly a few rounds with his firebolt. Those were his
only opportunities, since he wasn’t on the team himself anymore. He’d
started this at the beginning of term when he needed space or to clear his head,
but once the quidditch season began the pitch was constantly booked for training
when he had time left to fly.    

After approximately another half hour of sitting around Harry came to the
conclusion that Gryffindor tower indeed planned on sleeping in and got up to go
to the great hall for breakfast. 

As expected, there were already students sitting at the Ravenclaw and Slytherin
tables, even some at the Hufflepuff’s and Harry felt kind of singled out as
the only Gryffindor at the long table. He sat down facing the other students, so
he could see when someone entered the hall. Some of the other’s waved to him
in greeting, amongst them Luna, before she continued to engage one of her fellow
housemates in a discussion that probably had nothing to do with quidditch. His
eyes automatically scanned the Slytherin table, but Malfoy wasn’t there
 
Harry took his time with eating some porridge, while the hall slowly started to
fill with more students and some of the teachers and eventually he saw Ron and
Hermione come through the door and head towards him. 

“Good morning, Harry.” His female best friend said in greeting as she said
down across from him, while her male counterpart took a seat next to her and
only yawned widely. “How long have you been up already?”

Harry shrugged. “Not sure. An hour?” Probably longer. Hermione only nodded
while Ron poured some pumpkin juice for his girlfriend and himself.

“You two gonna see the game later?” Harry asked. 

“’course we are.” Ron finally decided to join the conversation. Apparently
the mention of anything referring to quidditch was enough to get his spirits up.
“Now we don’t play ourselves anymore it’s the next best thing, right?
You’re coming too, aren’t you?”

“Sure.” Harry replied with a short smile and a nod, but actually didn’t
feel much like watching quidditch today. 

When Ron loaded his toast with ham and bacon Hermione and he started bickering
about his eating habits, as has become their habit. And as it has become
Harry’s habit during those moments, he started to tune them out. Realising
they were in a kind of ‘couple-mood’ and starting to feel like an intruder,
Harry quickly excused himself, since he had already finished his breakfast. 

Maybe now someone would be in the common room to talk too, without having a
privacy bubble around them. Harry felt really happy for his two best friends,
granted, it took them long enough, but that didn’t change his impression of
suddenly being a third wheel. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, so he rather
left them alone when they acted all couple-like, even if it meant he’d end up
alone. 

On second thought he preferred this at the very moment and wasn’t in the mood
to talk with anyone, so he quickly changed his route and took the long walk back
to the common room that led him past the room of requirement. He wouldn’t
visit the room though, hadn’t tried since the war and didn’t plan on it
anytime soon.    

As he walked past the west tower that led up to the owlery, he saw something
white-blond flash out of the corner of his eyes that let him pause. From where
he stood he could see the beginning of the up going staircase, but nobody was
there. Maybe it had just been a ghost who passed through the next wall? But it
looked like…

Harry wouldn’t be Harry if he ever resisted his curiosity. With careful steps,
unconsciously deciding to walk as silently as possible, he made his way over to
the stairs. There he stopped for a moment and looked up, but since it was a
spiral stair case, he couldn’t see further than the next turn. 

Harry hadn’t been to the owlery since he returned to Hogwarts. He had not
bought a new owl, because he still missed Hedwig and thought not even the best
owl in the world could ever replace her. Also, he felt like sullying her
sacrifice if he would get another one. 
It wasn’t like he had many people to write to left anyway.

Even at the foot of the stairs it was already chilly from the cold winter wind
that heedlessly blew through the windowless owlery. Harry hardly was dressed to
venture outside during these temperatures, but he also wasn’t a wizard for
nothing. Taking his wand out, he silently cast a warming charm and started to
climb the stairs. 

The image of an Auror on a secret mission flashed through his mind as Harry
crept stealthily along the wall. Before he reached the top of the stairs he
stopped, since he already could peer over the topmost step and indeed saw
someone standing in the owlery with their back turned to him. Not daring to go
further, in fear he could be seen if the person with the long black robe and
white-blond hair would just turn around, he stood on the points of his toes and
held his breath. 

Of course he didn’t imagine Malfoy going to the owlery. The young man really
stood there, apparently petting and silently talking to one of the birds that
sat on a windowsill, while his hair and clothes were toyed with by the chilling
winter air. Harry could see from his place that the bird, which was probably
Malfoy’s eagle owl, took off, concluding that the Slytherin had sent a letter.


Then it suddenly happened; Malfoy turned around and Harry reacted instantly.   
 
Throwing all attempts to be silent and unnoticed to the icy wind he turned and
sprinted down the stairs, ran along the west corridor, past the room of
requirement, but once he reached the corridor leading to Gryffindor tower he
stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly feeling utterly foolish for running.



                           Kapitel 3: December, 3rd
                           ------------------------


Shoot up. Twirl. Looping. Swoop down again. Spiral. Twirl once more.

Harry’s back faced the frozen dew on the blades of the grass of Hogwarts’
quidditch pitch as he gave his firebolt a slight push shortly before almost
hitting the ground and the broom whirred parallel to the floor with its pilot
upside down. 
Before his arms and legs became victims to gravity, Harry corrected his position
with half a twirl and steadily gained height whilst first flying towards the
goal posts on one side and then starting a huge circle around the stadium. 

Gripping the broom tightly with his legs, his hands let go of the stick and the
Gryffindor spread his arms wide. Pressing them against the resistance of the
freezing morning wind he enjoyed the thrill of flight with a liberated laugh.  

 On his broomstick, high up in the air, he was free. This was where he truly
felt like himself and in control. While now he had the liberty to choose the
path he wanted to walk in his life, in prior years he had mostly missed this
feeling. 

Harry placed his hands back on the stick and leaned forward, flying barely above
the ground once more, so the crystallized blades of grass hit the tips of his
shoes, then he was zooming up again, flying a backwards looping and continued
his rounds while the blazing morning sun slowly started to melt of the ice from
the grass and his fingers. His quidditch gloves weren’t as weather-proofed as
he remembered them to be. 
Still, even with the unpleasant winter temperatures, flying was as brilliant as
ever and also a good opportunity to clear his head and forget everything else
for a while.

The ravenette slowed down and halted in the air for a moment. It was time to add
some thrill. 
Out of a pocket in his robes Harry pulled the snitch that had been left to him
by Dumbledore.

Harry had been surprised when one day in September Hermione had presented it to
him, saying something about crookshanks spitting it into her lap. He had been
sure that night when he was ready to put a close on his life was the last time
he’d see it. 

The small golden orb rolled around on Harry’s palm like a pet trying to nudge
its owner, before it unfurled its shimmering wings, leaped up to hover in front
of him for a moment and then took of into the bright sunlight, where it
instantly became invisible. 
Harry pinched his eyes closed for a moment, after he made the mistake to look
after the snitch, then opened them again and took off; waiting for the next time
he’d see the bird-like pellet. 

It wasn’t easy to spot the little thing in the glaring December sun,
especially since everything seemed to shimmer and sparkle in the light, like the
half-melted dew on the ground or the poles of the goal posts. But Harry had this
practical talent to notice things easily, that other people would simply
overlook and soon he was on a wild chase after the snitch.

Right as he was closing in, the thrilling feeling of winning already curling in
his stomach, he noticed something in the stands for the audience and his stomach
suddenly dropped.

That something rather was someone, and Harry didn’t understand why that
someone would want to sit in the stands and watch him play by himself. Besides,
he’d rather avoid the guy for the rest of the school year, after his cowardly
retreat of the day before. 

The snitch had made the most of Harry’s distraction and already disappeared
again and Harry forgot about it for a moment as he was too busy getting as much
distance between himself and the blond Slytherin watching him from his seat.

Then Harry cursed himself. He was doing it again; running away (or in this case,
flying away) from Malfoy. Since when was he running away from Malfoy? He
didn’t even know if the blond had seen it had been him yesterday. For all he
knew, Harry could have been gone too fast for him to get a good look. 

But why else would the guy suddenly be sitting in the quidditch stands and
trying to unsettle Harry with that piercing mercury stare? He probably wanted to
confront him about the weird behaviour he displayed and what should Harry say
then, when he didn’t even understand it himself… 
The Gryffindor did have every right to visit the owlery at that time; he
didn’t need to explain himself. But he still had run as if he’d been caught
doing something forbidden. Harry had felt like it too, or more like intruding on
a private moment. And the last time that happened with Malfoy still gave the
ravenette enough fuel for his nightmares. Maybe he just wanted to avoid another
confrontation like that.

Deciding it didn’t matter if Malfoy watched him play, unless he made any
indication to knock Harry off his broom, the ravenette focused back on looking
for the snitch. The sooner he got it, the sooner he could escape… or, well get
inside and warm himself up. 

When circling the side farthest away from the Slytherin didn’t give him any
results he reluctantly flew closer to the other side with the eminent presence
of the lonely figure in the stands.  

As the black haired seeker spotted the snitch at last, he felt a jolt shoot
through him that had nothing to do with the excitement of a possible catch. 
It was more like a feeling of dread and betrayal by an old friend, when he saw
the golden orb hover diagonally to Malfoy in the air above his head. Harry had a
deep desire to face-palm.
Instead he flattened himself on his firebolt and shot forward, closing his hand
securely around the winged ball in only seconds.
Then he made the mistake to look down and his emerald eyes were met head-on with
the gaze of the molten silver ones of the man underneath him. Their stares
locked and time seemed to slow down, the wind appeared to lessen and sound
became only a distant reminder that something else existed around them. 

Then Malfoy smirked and Harry bolted.



                           Kapitel 4: December, 4th
                           ------------------------


Screeed-

Just after they resurfaced from the dungeons after potions class a ripping noise
tore through the air. Harry turned around and watched as for at least the third
time that day Malfoy’s bag magically came undone. The bottom ripped open and
noises of tumbling books and shattering inkpots quickly followed. 
The blond had frozen, while other students around him pointed and laughed
gleefully as they walked past him on their way to lunch. 

Harry looked around furiously, but again nobody appeared to be responsible for
this attack, although unmerciful smirks could be seen on far too many faces. The
ravenette just hoped it wasn’t a Gryffindor behind this, or worse, one of his
friends, but it was hard to tell since now it was lunch time and they stood in
the student flooded Entrance Hall.

The teachers were of no use either; Slughorn had stayed in his classroom,
sorting through the vials they left for him and no one of the others was around.
When Harry turned back he saw that Malfoy finally had unfrozen and, kneeling
down, started to pick up his books.

Then something else occurred, that instantly short fury through the
Gryffindor’s body. A younger boy, his robes identifying him to belong to
Slytherin house, walked past Malfoy and purposefully hit his bag into the
kneeling man’s head, raising approving laughter from his friends. 

“HEY!” Harry yelled and ran over as Malfoy got knocked forward and caught
himself with his hands before he face planted on the floor.
The young Slytherin’s eyes widened comically as he saw who angrily marched up
to him and fell into a sprint, zigzagging around Harry into the safety of the
Great Hall, his friends sharp on his heels. 

The fuming ravenette glared after them, but reminded himself that he couldn’t
hex younger students. Or at least, shouldn’t.
“Erm… Harry?” Ron asked uncertainly and gave him a confused, but hopeful
look that clearly said: Do you have to play hero now, when we could go to lunch?
Certainly Harry had to see that lunch was more important than Malfoy…

But ever so perceptive Hermione looped an arm around one of her boyfriend’s
and dragged him away. “We’ll see you later, Harry.” She smiled knowingly
at him, which irritated him mildly, but he nodded a yes and then turned back to
Malfoy, who was now wiping his ink covered hands on his robes. 

“.. you okay?”

“Piss off, Potter.”

The blond didn’t even look up and instead started to spell his books clean
with a scowl. Harry glared at him now, but then simply knelt down opposite to
Malfoy, after removing the ink and glass shards that still covered the floor.
The flood of students slowly ceased, until they were alone in the hallway,
except for some passing latecomers. 

Harry picked up the green feather quill he had seen Malfoy use before. Now it
was half black with ink (why did ink have the tendency to stick to really
anything once a pot got broken?) and clotted, so Harry got out his wand and
restored the feather to its original, clean form. 
The blond Slytherin had replaced most of his stuff in his once again repaired
bag and eyed Harry now warily. 

“Honestly Potter, can’t you just do what you’re told?” He snatched the
feather out of his hand as Harry offered it.

“Why are you tolerating this?”

“Why do you care?!” Malfoy hissed and threw the feather along with the last
re-collected scrolls in the bag. He stood up and Harry swiftly followed.  

“You should defend yourself.”

Malfoy laughed mirthlessly.
“Why should I waste my spells on that scum?? Besides, the ministry would have
a field day when a let off Death Eater starts cursing students! Bet I’ll be
off to Azkaban before I can even lift my wand!”

Harry was taken aback and his stomach clenched at the possibility of Malfoy
being taken away. “I’m not saying… you’re not… you could tell the
teachers…”

“Oh really?” Malfoy stood tall, with a stiff and impossible straight back,
but the tone of his voice held resentment and bitterness. The coldness of his
silvery eyes froze Harry to the spot. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Goody two shoes. So you
better shut your trap before you embarrass yourself further.” The blond turned
away and walked back to the dungeons, leaving a gobsmacked Harry standing alone
in the Entrance Hall.



                           Kapitel 5: December, 5th
                           ------------------------


Ever since the announcement Hogwarts would be able to reopen for the new school
year and be fully repaired, the coordination of students became a mess.

Because the curriculum of the last year had been changed and subjects as Defence
Against The Dark Arts, Muggle Studies and Divination haven’t been taught or
drastically changed and many students didn’t even attend Hogwarts since they
had to fear for their lives, a huge educational gap arose. 

The school offered all students for this reason the possibility to repeat the
last school year but also allowed those who felt confident enough in their
knowledge and abilities to move to the next. 

Almost all students that would have taken the NEWTS returned to repeat, or take
the seventh year for the first time and the same was the case with the OWL
students, who needed the results of their exams to decide their courses. The
majority of the other classes though were happy enough to start their next year,
as the exams were cancelled because of the circumstances. 

Some classes therefore suddenly became rather crowed, or mixed with students
from a former lower or higher year. 
So it happened that The Gryffindor ‘eighth’ years were taking charms
together with the official seventh years, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to
share a class with Ginny.
The youngest Weasley didn’t sit with them though, but rather with Becky
Coleman from her year as well as Seamus and Dean.

“Is everyone equipped with an ice block?” The dwarfish Professor Flitwick
asked in his squeaky voice, looking around cheerfully. 
“Well, alright. If every one of you has done their homework, as I am sure all
of you did, you will have no trouble with the Sculperis charm today. Now, I want
you to sculpt an animal of your choice from the ice block using the charm. This
will be an excellent training for your spell aim, as you need to be absolutely
precise. Once you’ve mastered this one, every other charm will come noticeably
easier to you. And maybe, as a little incentive, the most beautiful sculptures
will be presented in the Great Hall for the rest of the month. Please begin!”

“We’ll be able to do other charms more easily when we do this? Why wasn’t
it the first spell we’ve ever learned?” Ron muttered to his two table
companions. 

Harry shrugged and stared at his block, trying to think about what animal he
would carve out of it. Next to Ron Hermione already got to work, succeeding into
forming the frozen block nicely while launching into a drawn out explanation why
the Sculperis charm was too complicated for younger students between her spell
castings. 

Half an hour later nothing of Hermione’s ice sculpture resembled a block
anymore. Instead a gorgeous glassy swan sat on the desk in front of her, with
spread wings and feathers so detailed, that it might as well was able to just
fly off any second. 

Harry’s block on the other hand only represented a phoenix in a very
Picasso-ish kind of way and only if looked at from the right angle. He didn’t
have the mind to sculpt ice figures right now; it was already busy with thinking
about something else.  
Finished with her work the talented brunette witch leaned closer to her
boyfriend and examined his work with an appreciative nod.

“You’re hippo turned out quite good, Ron.”

“… It was supposed to be a horse.”

“Oh…” Hermione blushed.

“No, no Mr. Finnigan! Like this you’re going to melt… oh, you see…”
Professor Flitwick squeaked and rushed over to Seamus’ table in order to
restore his now molten ice block. 

The trio looked over with amused smiles and could see a drenched Seamus with a
sheepish expression on his face, while Ginny’s buried her face in a grinning
Dean’s shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
The only one still concentrated on working at that table was Becky.

Ron frowned when he saw his sister with Dean.  “Aren’t they getting a little
too touchy-feely?”

“Oh, Ron.” Hermione sighed. “It’s really not your business what
Ginny’s doing, you know? Besides, they’re dating again.” 
Ron’s eyes bulged, studying the pair even more intensely now, while Harry
simply said: “Oh.”

Hermione looked over to him behind, biting her lip. “Didn’t you know?”

“No, I… didn’t.” Harry frowned slightly. 
Why didn’t he know that? They were still friends weren’t they? Then, on the
other hand, Ron hadn’t known either, but then again Ginny never told her
brothers about her dates.

“They haven’t been for long. He asked her after the match Saturday.”
Hermione hastily added, her eyes starting to fill with concern while she looked
at Harry. 

“Oh.” He said again. “That’s… really not long yet.” He grinned at
her, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under her concern.

“You okay with it?” Harry wasn’t sure, but he might have heard something
else swing in her tone as she asked him this. 

“Sure. Hermione, she’s free to date whoever she likes. That between us…
it’s just friendship, you know? I’m happy for her.” And as the words left
his mouth, he found that he really was. 

Of course, he still cared deeply for the ginger haired girl and felt protective
over her, but it wasn’t the raging jealousy he had felt two years ago and more
like he regarded Hermione. Just a very good friend.

“Doesn’t anyone care if I’m okay with it?” Ron complained and got bopped
in the side by a grinning Hermione.

“No. Now finish your hippo.”



                           Kapitel 6: December, 6th
                           ------------------------


Professor Carbuncle was the name of their new DADA teacher and Harry wondered
every lesson anew, if she would keep the job after this year. Has the curse been
lifted with Voldemort’s demise, or would it stay intact until someone figured
out how to remove it? Well, he could find out, even if he personally wouldn’t
be here anymore to witness it.

Harry hoped she could stay, because the tough, middle aged, energetic witch was
a definite win for the school. When Professor Carbuncle introduced herself in
the first lesson, the ravenette had been wary at first to be faced with a female
teacher in this subject. Not that the past male DADA Professors had all been
competent or even capable, but their last female Professor had left an
especially lasting impression. 

Five minutes into the lesson Harry was convinced she made an excellent Defence
Teacher. Not only did she clearly know her stuff, but she also was all for the
practical approach and learning by doing just happened to be how Harry preferred
it. Additionally, Professor Carbuncle quickly earned his respect for not
singling him out for being the saviour of the wizarding world and whatnot as
well as managing the huge class of Gryffindor AND Slytherin seventh and
‘eighth’ years combined. 

Well since the numbers of Slytherins had been greatly reduced, due to not
attending, and everyone was trying their best to get along or ignore each other,
it wasn’t as explosive a combination as it could have been. 

The Professor wasn’t as strict as McGonagall, or as intimidating as Snape had
been, but when she talked, she instantly had the students’ attention. During
the practical part of the lesson (which often really was the most part of the
lesson) they were allowed to chatter, as long as they didn’t neglect their
practise. 
They were especially glad for this today, because almost half of the students
already mastered today’s spell: The Patronus charm. 

At the beginning of the lesson Professor Carbuncle had asked who was able to
cast it and all former DA members, as well as two others lifted their hands. The
Professor wasn’t surprised about this quantity, simply nodded with a grim
smile and asked all of them to demonstrate. 

When the classroom was filled with silvery transparent animals she awarded them
points and told them to use the time as they saw fit but not disturb the others,
then began to explain the spell to those still in need to learn it.

So the greater portion of the Gryffindors sat together in the back of the room
and chit-chatted in quiet voices about everything coming to their minds, except
for Hermione, who sat with them, but tried to do her Ancient Runes essay
instead. 

Probably a wise decision, since a NEWT student couldn’t really afford to waste
away a double lesson’s time of work time, but Harry couldn’t be bothered.
No, he rather talked to Ron and Neville and threw glances every other minute
across the room to a certain blond haired Slytherin. He could see from here how
tense the young man looked and that he only reluctantly tried to participate. 

Harry started to feel tense as well, when only fifteen minutes of the lesson
were left and all other students managed to produce the misty fog the spell
created when not taking shape yet, but Malfoy didn’t. 

When the chattering in the background got a little out of hand Professor
Carbuncle interrupted: “So, you guys either keep it down again, or go help
your fellow classmates with the spell.”

Harry was on his feet before he knew he’d moved. It earned him some surprised
stares, since he indeed had moved rather abruptly, but Neville diverted the
attention from him by saying: “Oh, yes of course, come on guys…” and
following him to the front of the class. After that some others followed their
example, but the rest remained and continued to talk quietly.  

The ravenette didn’t pay attention to any of them and made a beeline for
Malfoy. The blond already realized his intention and narrowed his eyes, hissing
to him from the corner of his mouth when he was close enough. “Go away.”

“We’re supposed to help.”

Malfoy sneered. “Then go help someone else. I don’t need your
‘help’.”

“Really? Why don’t you show me your Patronus, then?” Harry smirked at him
challengingly and Malfoy in return scowled darkly.

Suddenly his demeanour changed and he wore a similar smirk. Harry instantly got
a foreboding feeling and a second later it got confirmed. 
Malfoy stepped closer to him, his lips still stretched by that smug expression
as he leaned in a little more, closer to Harry’s right ear and said: “Was
that supposed to be a pick-up line, Potter?”

Then the blond pulled back, his mercury eyes sparkling with humour, while Harry
swallowed and felt his face rapidly growing hot. From anger. Of course, from
anger.
 
“Don’t be stupid, Malfoy!” The ravenette hissed and didn’t understand
why a nervous sensation all of a sudden started to flutter in his stomach. “I
meant the spell.”

“Whatever you say, Scarhead.” The Slytherin still didn’t drop that
infuriating expression and Harry realized that he reacted just as the blond
annoyance wanted him to. He felt flustered and wanted to wipe the smirk off his
face.

“Are you able to cast it now, or what?”

That got him what he wanted and Malfoy scowled at him once again. Strangely, it
didn’t leave Harry satisfied at all.

“Alright, pack up your stuff and get out of here.” Professor Carbuncle’s
voice carried through the classroom. “We’ll continue this next lesson.
You’re dismissed.”



                           Kapitel 7: December, 7th
                           ------------------------


Magic was truly amazing. Mere four month (probably less, but Harry hasn’t seen
the castle during that time) after the war, Hogwarts looked as it had all those
years before, as if nothing had changed. Still so many things did. 
He once had believed Hogwarts wouldn’t exist without Albus Dumbledore as
Headmaster, but the school hadn’t changed its name and lessons were still
carried on since he deceased.  

But not only people were missing among the students and teachers. Places of the
castle also seemed different, because of what he’s seen happening there,
despite them being fully restored. They were haunted by painful memories,
overshadowing any positive recollections of times prior. 

Even looking around the Gryffindor common room dealt him sudden stabs of pain
sometimes. While the tower had remained amazingly untouched, it lacked some
faces that should laugh and complain about homework amongst them. Harry knew,
life moved on and they all were doing their best to go along with it, but from
time to time the memories became just too much.

Flames were crackling steadily in the fireplace, keeping the chilly winter
temperatures away from the common room, while the noises of many people chatting
or working with books and parchments bounced off from the walls. 

The golden Trio had managed to claim their favoured seats by the fireside and
all had some of their homework spread on the table in front of them. Hermione,
of course had already filled feet-long parchments with her neat, small
handwriting and Ron begrudgingly did his transfiguration essay because of the
curly haired girl’s insistence. Harry had started on his as well, but didn’t
get further than the headline because he had fallen in a mood. 

His friends thankfully knew him well enough and could tell when that happened,
so they left him in peace for the time being, unless he wanted to talk. They
were glad he still remained sitting with them and didn’t wander off on his own
again, like he preferred so often. 

No, for now, while the other two wrote, he leaned back in his seat and switched
between staring into the fire and watching them or other people in the room,
while he delved in his thoughts.

At one time crookshanks had jumped on his lap and he didn’t know how or when
it had gotten there, but he’d found a bag with small pieces of ham in his hand
and had started to feed the Kneazle whenever the furball nudged his hand with
its flat face, or petted the twitching ears. 

His gaze travelled to the other side of the room, where Ginny, Dean, Seamus and
Becky played a round of exploding snap, laughing when the cards went off in
Seamus’ hands, singing half of his eyebrows. Ginny caught his eye and smiled
at him and Harry quickly smiled back before looking back into the fire, to not
make the impression of watching them (even if he was). 

Doing homework and watching his friends play was something very ordinary and
every-day-life. It was simultaneously insignificant compared to what they’ve
been through and the most precious thing in the world. 

Safety. Normalcy. 
Something Harry never thought he’d ever acquire in his life.  

Crookshanks nudged his hand again, but the ham pieces were all eaten up by the
little tiger and so the ravenette only petted his head. Apparently Crookshanks
had enough of being petted and stretched, before jumping off of his legs (he was
glad to finally be able to move them again.) 

Harry yawned, deciding he was too tired to give his homework another go today
and to do it tomorrow. He suddenly felt cosy and contented, his mood taking a
turn for the better.
Life went on and he was glad for every second.



                           Kapitel 8: December, 8th
                           ------------------------


“-iously work, George wants them to go into production on Monday- ”

“Pass the juice, please?”

“- bloody amazing, that is! I mean, dragon sighting, who do you know who
actually-”

“Harry? Can you please pass the juice?”

“- totally! It’s insane, especially with the Christmas bustle right now, but
he’s crazy enough to make it actually-”

It couldn’t be heard above the noise the students were making over dinner when
the door to the Great Hall opened once more, but Harry, who’d kept it in sight
from the corner of his eyes, immediately snapped his head up as soon as it got
pushed in. 
He looked tense and hopeful for all of two seconds, until a group of Ravenclaw
girls came in and his eyes fell dejectedly back to his plate. The green eyed man
was so concentrated on keeping track of who entered and left the hall that he
didn’t even hear a thing of the conversations his friends were having around
him. 
Only when someone next to him shook his shoulder shortly, did he react with an
irritated stare.

“What?”

Neville returned the stare with an insecure look of his own, thinking about
changing his mind, but then got a grip and carried on with what he wanted to
say.

“Sorry if I interrupt anything important, but I can’t reach the juice.
It’s next to your left elbow, do you mind passing it?” He pointed to the
aforementioned jug of juice. 

Harry turned his head and looked at it blankly for a moment, since ‘juice’
wasn’t fitting within his thoughts at all right now.

“Oh. Of course.” He passed it to Neville. 

“Thanks. Are you waiting for someone?” The other Gryffindor asked as he
finally got to pour the juice into his mug and nearly spilled half of it when he
looked at his friend instead of where the liquid went. Harry meanwhile had been
distracted again by the opening door.

“What?”

The clumsy young man gave him a curious stare (after placing the jug safely down
again).
“Well… it’s just you’ve been looking up at least seven times in the last
five minutes, whenever you saw someone come in…”

He watched as Harry’s eyes flickered over the other house tables, then back to
the door.
“Oh? No, I’m not.” Neville looked doubtful, but shrugged and didn’t push
the issue. 

Neville doubted his answer rightfully, since Harry was going crazy over not
seeing Malfoy in the Hall. At breakfast, it had already occurred to him that he
hasn’t seen the blond menace at meal times all week. But the guy had to eat
some time, or he would collapse and that’s how Harry’s self-imposed mission
started to pay very close attention to the eating habits of the elusive
Slytherin. 

So far it hadn’t work, since the only time he’d seen him today was in the
single Defence lesson and this time he didn’t have a chance to approach him
since Professor Carbuncle already pulled the blond aside for a word, while the
rest of the class practised or did nothing. 

He only noticed that Malfoy didn’t follow them to lunch. And now the Slytherin
was missing at dinner as well. Harry remembered that on Monday, after the
incident in the Entrance Hall Malfoy also strutted back to the dungeons instead
of following the other students in the Great Hall, but he thought it was because
he was upset and not that it was a regular occurrence.

The ravenette had noticed that his former rival looked thin and pale, but he
looked like that for two years now and Harry didn’t think anything of it,
besides the obvious reasons. He’d lost a lot of weight in the past year too,
but Mrs. Weasley took it upon herself to coddle him up again as soon as she had
the chance. 

Malfoy could use a Mrs. Weasley – made meal as well, Harry thought, the
corners of his mouth etching up slightly. 
But as he still saw no distinctive white-blond hair at the Slytherin table
something terribly similar to worry gnawed at his stomach.

Malfoy wasn’t trying to starve himself, was he?

The pale eighteen year old went through a lot and still had to put up with more
shit with a father in Azkaban, his family name slaughtered regularly in the
newspapers and the way his fellow students acted towards him. 
The worry got joined by anger when Harry thought about it. It was a topic he
regularly got pissed off about, since some people seemed to have learned nothing
from the war.

Harry frowned. He couldn’t believe that Malfoy would be giving up on himself.
He was a Slytherin after all and they always had their own best interests in
mind. At least he hoped Malfoy wasn’t giving up.

The doors opened once again, this time because students left the hall. And as
Malfoy still failed to show up when his friends started to gather their things
and nudged him to come with them, Harry resolved he’d personally shove food
down Malfoy’s throat the next time he saw him, if he found out the blond
wasn’t properly taking care of himself.



                           Kapitel 9: December, 9th
                           ------------------------


By now it had gotten uncomfortably cold and was on the brink of snowing, but
that only helped keeping the quidditch pitch clear and didn’t discourage Harry
at all. 
Wrapped up in a thick cloak, his Gryffindor coloured scarf and woollen gloves
the former seeker braved the temperatures and joyfully shot through the icy air
on his firebolt. 

He had his personal snitch with him again, but for now it remained safely in his
pocket while he enjoyed the simple happiness of flying. 
The wind whipped merciless against the exposed skin of his face as he whizzed
over the stadium, colouring his cheeks and nose red as it numbed the parts where
it hit. 
Harry didn’t mind, for now at least.

He had skipped breakfast in favour of coming down here first and with it an
opportunity to see if Malfoy was eating. 
But after dinner last night, he contemplated telling his two best friends about
his concerns regarding the blond Slytherin. Then, as an opening presented itself
he suddenly imagined their simultaneous groans if he would bring up Malfoy as a
topic again and Hermione’s claim he was growing obsessed with the boy- once
again. 

So Harry held his tongue, not having been in the mood to listen to unjustified
accusations. Or maybe not so unjustified, but he would never admit it out loud
to anyone. 

The truth was, Malfoy crossed his mind a lot as of late, not to say he always
hovered in the back of Harry’s thoughts in one way or another. Malfoy
doesn’t eat properly. Why can’t Malfoy cast a Patronus? He had to do
something about Malfoy’s attackers. Malfoy has nice hair….

Anyway, he was aware that it might be getting just the tiniest bit out of hand
and decided to prove to himself that he wasn’t obsessed and didn’t need to
anxiously await the blond’s presence at breakfast. 
Besides, if he didn’t stay out here too long, he could still head for
breakfast afterwards. It was Saturday after all and they left the food out
longer for those students who preferred (or didn’t have too much homework for)
sleeping in.

After flying some rounds he suddenly felt a thrill that had nothing to do with
speeding away on a broom: he was being watched.  
Out of habit and severe war-induced paranoia he had his wand in his right hand
after the first nervous tingle in his neck and looked out for the cause.
When he spotted it, he was momentarily so distracted, that he only narrowly
avoided collision with one of the goal posts. Half a looping brought him back
into a straight position, before he stopped to float in the air a few feet
beneath the Keeper’s goal-rings and stare diagonally across the field. Though
he was many feet away, it was unmistakable who his observer was and Harry
couldn’t distinguish if he felt confusion or satisfaction. 

Not waiting to decide what it was, he acted on his next impulse, grabbed the
shaft of his broom and flew directly to the figure who sat once again in the
viewer’s stands. 
This time though, Harry didn’t just hover above the blond, but landed behind
him and got off his broom. Before he could even open his mouth though, Malfoy
stood up, turned around to look at him and practically took the question from
his thoughts.

“Why are you stalking me, Potter?”

Harry gaped. “Wait, I should be the one asking this! This is the second time
you came out here to watch me flying.”

The blond sneered. “No Potter. I am the one coming out here for some peace and
quiet; it’s not my fault that you’re lunatic enough to fly in this cold.” 


Blinking dumbfounded, the ravenette felt heat returning to his frozen features
and wasn’t sure if it was the reason why Malfoy suddenly smirked and gleefully
went on.

“And you, St. Potter, are the one who can’t leave me alone in and after
class, follows me to even the owlery and creeps out my fellow housemates by
staring like a starved caveman at the Slytherin table during meal times, as I
heard. Three guesses who you were looking for?”

The silvery eyes seemed to glow with superiority and amusement and Harry could
safely assume he was blushing now, from the way his face felt. So Malfoy had
seen him bolt from the owlery and apparently his hidden glances seemed to be
pretty intense if word already got back to Malfoy. 
With growing embarrassment he wondered if Hermione and Ron had noticed too and
just didn’t say anything because it was about his
obsession-that-was-not-really-an-obsession again. 
Harry avoided Malfoy’s stare and looked over the field and into the sky,
pretending to gauge if it was going to snow or not.

“Don’t flatter yourself; you’re not that important Malfoy.”

“Well…” Malfoy didn’t lose his smug expression and nimbly climbed over
the bench between them so fast, that he was standing next to Harry before the
raven haired man even had the chance to turn his head. And then Harry made a
mistake.

Because of Malfoy’s unexpected swiftness his instincts took over and he lifted
the wand still resting in his right hand and pointed it at the blond.

The green eyes widened as the mercury one’s across from them narrowed and
turned icier than the air around them. Harry dropped his wand arm as a
disdainful sneer was fully back in place on Malfoy’s lips.

“I see Potter. No need to explain further.” The words were hissed with such
blatant fury that Harry actually winced and in his panic, as the Slytherin
turned around and rushed to the exit he let his broom and wand fall to the
ground to hurry after him.

“Wait!” But of course Malfoy had no intention to comply and was about to
descent down the stairs when Harry caught up to him, grabbed his shoulder and
hauled him around. 
In an instant Malfoy had is own wand out, pointed it into Harry’s chest and
forced him backwards into the open again, as he walked forwards himself,
radiating rage.

“Don’t think I won’t do it!”   

“Malfoy-” Harry held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but the blond
now grabbed his collar in turn with his free hand.

“Shut UP, Potter!! You’re playing all nice and benevolent as long as
there’s an audience, but truth is, you’re just like them!”

“I wasn’t about to curse you, it w-”

“No!” Malfoy spit the word out coldly. “You were just going to defend
yourself from a dangerous Death Eater! Do you think I’m stupid??!”

A silence full of tension followed after the blond shouted those words and Harry
was shocked by how desperate they had sounded. The tight fist at his collar
trembled almost unnoticeably and Harry’s stomach clenched when he saw hurt and
disappointment in the suddenly stormy grey eyes. The two men haven’t moved
much, but still both of them were breathing heavily.
 
Harry lowered his hands down to his sides. 

“You startled me. That’s why I lifted my wand.” He said quietly, trying to
convey the sincerity of his words with his eyes. “Not because I thought you
were going to harm me.”

Malfoy didn’t change his position and scowled at him, but his breathing seemed
to calm down.
“You’re mistake Potter. I’m fully capable of harming you. But if thinking
there’s some good left in me makes you sleep better…”

“I know what you’re capable off. Just as I know you’re not going to curse
me.”

Harry held his gaze until Malfoy lowered his wand and unhanded the balled up
fabric of his cloak. 

“Believe what you want…”

Malfoy seemed still to be set on leaving and since Harry had another impulse
that told him to prevent it he blurted out the first thing on his mind.

“Seeker’s match, Malfoy?”

The blond, already in the process of turning away from him looked back with an
expression of clear belief that Harry has lost his mind.

“I have a snitch.” Harry continued hastily, feeling nervous. “Whoever
catches it first wins, obviously. If you want to make it more interesting we
could play for Galleons, or something else?” He added, hoping he didn’t
sound too eager.

Malfoy still gave him that look. “… are you mad, Potter?”

Harry cracked a grin. “Debatable. So what do you say?”

The Slytherin eyed him for some more seconds, while Harry already felt
anticipation flutter in his stomach as he waited for him to agree. He would love
to have a real challenge again and playing against Malfoy always added some
spice. Also they hadn’t played against each other for years; it was time for
another go. 
But Malfoy sent his hopes crashing down.

“I don’t fly.”

“Huh?” Harry looked honestly puzzled. “What do you mean? You still have
that Nimbus, right?”

Harry thought he saw a haunted expression hush over Malfoy’s features, before
he sealed off all emotions behind the perfected detached pureblood mask that
probably had been drilled into him as soon as he could walk. 

“I mean that I don’t fly, you daft imbecile.”

And with that the blond turned his back on him and left Harry standing alone and
confused for the second time that week.



                          Kapitel 10: December, 10th
                          --------------------------


It wasn’t one of his nicer Sundays at Hogwarts.

Maybe it could have been, but thanks to Harry’s abysmal time management (and
recently renewed Malfoy obsession), a mountain of his homework had piled up and
demanded to be finished off today.

During the night the snow that had threatened to fall quietly came down and now
covered Hogwarts and everything around it in a thick layer of white. 
His motivation wasn’t specifically high. 
The castle had become freezing and those who weren’t still outside to have
their jolly fun in the snow, had taken over the common room to make good use of
the bustling fire in the hearth. 

Harry stayed there for the same reason instead of visiting the quieter library,
but it did nothing for his concentration. That also wasn’t high to begin with.
Apart from the fact that potions still wasn’t his favourite subject to work
on, he also was terribly tired, since he had even less sleep than usual. 

After the confrontation he had had with Malfoy yesterday morning, Harry had
collected his wand and gotten back on his broom, trying to clear his over
thinking mind through flying. When that didn’t work, he went back to the
castle, put his broom away, but instead of going to breakfast like he’d
originally planned, he randomly roamed the hallways in hopes of crossing paths
with the blond and finding out why the hell he didn’t fly anymore.
 Halfway through the castle he remembered the marauder’s map and went back to
Gryffindor tower. There, he met Ron und Hermione and since he didn’t want to
explain himself he cut his wild search short. 

After lunch they had gone down to Hagrid’s and for a while at least Harry had
been distracted from his one-track thoughts. 
But at night, when he was supposed to be asleep, the quietness kick-started his
mind into going on about what happened in the morning and so it felt like hours
until he finally fell asleep. 

Now he felt grumpy and sluggish as he forced himself to write this essay. It
didn’t help that he constantly had to re-read the text book passages since he
got distracted by conversations and laughter around him and his ever circling
thoughts about the confusing blond.

Maybe if he got another chance and didn’t piss him off beforehand, he could
try challenging him again? Malfoy had always prided himself on being a good
flyer (which was undeniably true) and Harry knew he also was a good seeker, if
he stopped cheating. So really, why would he suddenly decide to not fly anymore?
They might not be allowed in the quidditch teams anymore, but that didn’t mean
they couldn’t bring a broom and fly on their own time (like he did).

“Harry!” The ravenette flinched upon hearing the scolding tone of
Hermione’s voice. She picked the parchment of his potions essay up, looking
exasperated.

“Is that really all you’ve got by now? Honestly, it’s two hours until
dinner and you still need to do Transfiguration, Herbology and practise for
Charms. And I promise you I won’t let you sleep until you’ve finished.”
The witch placed the parchment back down as Harry groaned and she sat next to
him.

“Is there something you don’t understand?” She asked carefully and Harry
knew she would help him to figure it out himself if it was the case.

“No, nothing… just a lot on my mind.” A moment later the green eyed man
wished he hadn’t said those words as he saw Hermione pull her lower lip
between her teeth and a speculating twinkle in her eyes.

“Okay, well.” She said, clearly holding back from asking about this
‘lot’. Harry didn’t understand why, since he knew she was burning for
information.

“Then I suggest shove it out of your mind for now and do your homework
properly.” She patted him on the shoulder before standing up and going back to
Ron, green eyes following her curiously, before their owner surrendered to his
fate.



                          Kapitel 11: December, 11th
                          --------------------------


Harry felt exhausted, but the day was only just beginning. Hermione had made
good on her promise to prevent him from sleeping until he finished his homework
and the two of them plus Ron had stayed up until one in the morning. 

And any hopes of being tired enough to fall asleep quickly when he eventually
went to bed flew straight out of the window, when, as soon as he lay down, his
mind provided him with visions of wand movements, white-blond air touched by the
wind, effects and properties of potions and stormy grey eyes.  

So Harry spent another night tossing and turning until his body gave in to
exhaustion and only felt able to face the morning because all students off age
were allowed to have coffee (if younger students tried to pour, nothing would
spill from the jug).
He detested the bitter stuff, but it woke him up like nothing else. Three
morning cups of bearable white coffee later the ravenette could keep his eyes
open and even participate in the conversation Ron and Hermione were trying to
have with him.

“So you’re coming with us mate?” Ron was referring to the Hogsmeade trip
on this week’s Saturday, as they made their way to the dungeons. Apparently
the announcement had appeared overnight on the board in the common room.  

“Of course he is it’s our last opportunity for last minute Christmas
shopping.” The not-as-bushy-haired-as-she-used-to-be woman agreed for him from
the other side of the red head. 

“I’m sure you boys need it.” She teased them.

Ron let out a caught laugh and awkwardly shrugged his shoulders and Harry gave
her a sheepish smile.

“Erm.. wouldn’t hurt. But are you sure you two’d not rather.. you know, go
alone?” 
The green eyed man felt embarrassment by addressing their relationship status.
To be happy for them was all very well, but he had the feeling he’d always be
weird with the practical experience.

In the past it had been natural to always be three of them (separation due to
their arguments excluded), but now Harry wasn’t sure he could just stroll
along, even if they asked him. Maybe they only offered to not feel bad about
leaving him out, but actually wanted him to say ‘no’?   

Hermione smiled at him and he had the suspicious feeling he was like an open
book to her (which strangely brought up the thought if Hermione did regard
humans as books…). 
She did get some colour in her cheeks though.

“We’re sure Harry. Besides, when Ron still needs to look for Christmas
presents we’ll be to busy for a date anyway.” Ron seemed to colour as well
now and Harry quickly wanted to end the topic.

“Okay. Great. I mean… I’ll join you then.”
As they arrived in the corridor leading to the potions class they saw students
file in to the already unlocked room. Harry believed he might have seen some
white-blond hair and suddenly something lit up in his mind. He addressed
Hermione again.

“Could you work with Ron today, if teamwork’s required?”

Hermione looked at him curiously. “Sure, but why… oh…”

“Thank you.” Harry hastily said, but Ron just looked confused.

“Oh? What do you mean oh? And what’s your problem all of a sudden mate?”

“Nothing, there is no problem, really.” Harry tried to reassure him with an
apologetic look. 

“Especially not with you! Erm… I’ll talk to you guys later.” 
With those words he dashed the last feet ahead to the classroom and the last
thing he heard was Ron’s still confused voice as he asked Hermione “What had
that been about…?” before his attention shifted.

With a sweep of his gaze through the room he could see that his classmates were
setting up their cauldrons at the usual places, which meant the usual unoccupied
seats also remained that. He quickly picked up his cauldron and work utensils
from where they’re stored and determinedly set it down in front of the free
seat next to Draco Malfoy.
For that he received an incredulous stare and a sharp hiss from the
aforementioned blond. 

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?”

Harry gave him something he’d like to think of as a winning smile.

“Good morning to you as well.”

But Malfoy was apparently not amused. “If you do not remove yourself
immediately, I swear you’ll thoroughly reg-”

At this moment, Slughorn waddled into the room.

“Ah! Wonderful, wonderful! Everyone already setting up, that’s what I like
to see.” He jovially acclaimed through his moustache. “No haste though, I
have to do my own preparations as well. Those of you already done can put their
essays on my desk, if you may. I’ll be with you shortly.” 

And the bald potions teacher scurried off into the back room, while Malfoy had
once again moved faster then Harry could blink and lay his homework on
Slughorn’s desk, followed by other students. Harry arranged his tools on the
table before he too went to hand in his poorly written potions essay, which
probably would put a damper on Slughorn’s mood once again. The man was easy to
impress, but just as easily disappointed and since Harry didn’t use the
Prince’s book anymore the teen did the latter to him a lot.  
When he came back to his seat he found his tools placed back in the cauldron and
frowned.

“What…”

“I did you the favour of packing your stuff, now you can move back to your
golden table.”
Malfoy declared in a hushed voice but without looking at him. 

Harry looked at him akin to Malfoy’s expression when the ravenette had claimed
the seat, before turning to his cauldron and getting the utensils out again. 

“I’m staying. Get over it.” He could feel the blond scowl at him, but
calmly set up his work place and Slughorn returned in the next moment to the
room and started the lesson.

“Alright, everybody. I’ll make it simple today. We’re going to repeat the
topic of antidotes until the holidays. Now I want you to make all those advanced
potions that I mentioned in your sixth year already and you now have the actual
knowledge to brew. We’ll start with the Antidote to Veritaserum, which you may
have noticed, is not listed in your book. Therefore kindly follow the
instructions on the board. Begin!”

With his words, Slughorn waved his wand and the instructions wrote themselves on
the chalkboard, while the bald man shuffled over to sit behind his desk and
start on the scrolls.
Malfoy was already moving when Harry still was reading and trying to wrap his
head around the words that ought to help him brew the potion.
The first thought shooting through his head was: Slughorn is calling that
simple?? He was already confused before he reached the bottom of the
instructions, but since he didn’t have another chance than to try, he got up
to get the ingredients for a start. 
 
As the hour progressed he sneaked glances at how Malfoy worked on the antidote
in hopes of catching some pointers. Harry knew the Slytherin did well in this
class, but he still was surprised that the guy not only had Hermione’s
efficiency, but also Snape’s natural grace when it came to potions. It was
fascinating to watch.

Harry’s own attempt meanwhile, bubbled sadly as it resembled more a dirty
swamp than the shimmering bronze it should have been at this point.

“Stop trying to copy my work, Potter. If you can’t do it alone, you don’t
belong in this class.” Malfoy suddenly mumbled from the corner of his mouth
and Harry felt caught, quickly looking away. He glanced at the board before
going over to the next step and measuring half a cup Convallaria dew to add it
to his brew. Before he could so much as tilt the cup though, a hand abruptly
shot out and held his wrist in a death grip. Green eyes looked up to meet with
horrified silver ones.       

“Put that down. Now.” The owner of the surprisingly strong hand demanded in
a dangerous tone and pulled Harry’s hand away from the failing potion and back
to the table again. Harry couldn’t comprehend what was going on, too
concentrated on the pressure around the transition between his hand and arm and
the strange tickling heat curling in his stomach when he found himself unable to
look away from Malfoy’s eyes.
The cup was back on the table and the pressure disappeared, but Malfoy still
looked exasperated.

“Are you even thinking Potter?!” The blond was still speaking in that hushed
voice, but that didn’t decrease the intensity of his words.
 “Or reading at least? Can you read?” 

Somehow Harry, still a little befuddled by the turn of events, came to the
conclusion that this question warranted an answer.

“Of course I can read.” He too spoke quietly, but shifted closer to Malfoy
so he didn’t miss a word. The Slytherin looked doubtfully at him.

“And you are sure about that?” When Harry gave him a mixture of a confused
and annoyed look Malfoy pointed at the board.
“Half a spoon of Convallaria dew. A spoon, Potter! You’re not even trying to
pay attention are you? An overdose of the dew in combination with the powdered
Chizpurfle pincers develops one of the deadliest gases known to exist. You could
have wiped the whole class out!” 

Harry’s eyes widened in shock and his head whipped to the front to read over
the instructions again. With horror he realized that Malfoy was right and his
eyes somehow had slipped to the next line when reading, confusing the measures
and nearly making a deadly mistake. Malfoy meanwhile seemed to be working up a
rant.  

“Were you trying to imitate Longbottom or what?! We can be glad enough he
isn’t taking this class anymore, he doesn’t need a substitute! And why are
you laughing now, Potter?!”

By now they were drawing attention. Harry had looked back to the blond and was
suddenly struck with the similarity to Hermione’s rants of him not doing his
homework properly and not paying enough attention and the comparison was so
hilarious that he started chuckling. Malfoy on the other hand, looked livid
until Slughorn came strutting over asking if they had a problem.

“No, sir. No problem. Just Potter trying to kill us all.” The blond said
sulkily, glowering at his own potion now that he had neglected for the last five
minutes. The expression really did nothing to calm Harry’s giggling fit. He
swallowed it down as best as he could though, while Slughorn eyed him with
concern.

“No, I apologize sir. I confused something, probably had too much coffee this
morning, but Malfoy here was kind enough to explain it to me.” He tried his
best to look reassuring to his professor.

“Well Harry… if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. That goes
for all of you by the way.” Slughorn reminded the class. “Now, finish your
potions, boys.” And he waddled away again. 

At least Harry wasn’t laughing anymore by now and sounded sincerely again when
he turned to his table partner.
“Thanks for stopping me.”

There was the typical sneer again, but somehow it didn’t look so hostile
today.
“I just don’t fancy dying, that’s all.”

“Okay…” Harry said and tried one of those assumingly winning smiles again.
“Still thanks.”



                          Kapitel 12: December, 12th
                          --------------------------


The saviour of the wizarding world felt very unfortunate at this moment.  
Yesterday he’d spent the whole afternoon practising the Sculperis charm, to
not be the only one unable to do it in today’s class. Once he mastered it
(which really took him long enough), he was amazed that other charms he tried
out with this new skill indeed turned out more refined than before. Satisfied
with this achievement, he took the evening off to watch Ron accepting Dean as
his sister’s boyfriend by annihilating him in chess. 

So it left him today with new homework for Herbology, Charms and Potions. And
before the next day could add its piece to the misery (or Hermione had his
head), he decided to get it out of the way. 

The Charms essay about the next spell they were going to do in class was fairly
easy, since Hermione had already chewed the theory through with them, and Harry
had it done around dinner time. 

When they returned to the common room in the evening, Harry sat back down right
away to tackle the rather difficult essay about the properties of antidotes to
potions. He figured, since his brilliant demonstration of incompetence in this
field on the day before, it would take him a while.

After reading up on the topic in his text book he knew he was mistaken; it would
take him years. Unless he got help from Hermione, but his friend had vanished
upstairs with his other friend when they came back and Harry wasn’t sure if
this was the right time to bother them. 
With a weary sigh he started reading the chapter once more, but it wasn’t any
less confusing than before. He had the feeling he’d missed out on something he
needed to understand this and wracked his brains if they’ve learned about it
before, but it only led up to an annoying throbbing behind his temples.

Then Hermione descended down the stairs, followed by Ron, both of them wearing
thick robes and her sight was like a shining beacon of hope. 
Harry smiled widely and waved them over to the table he’d taken up in the
corner.
 
“Hermione, just the girl I wanted to see!”

The brunette smiled bemused but gave him an inquiring look when she walked up
next to his table.

“Mate, this girl is already seeing someone.” Ron said as he came up behind
her, laying a possessive arm around her middle. His expression though was
equally bemused as his girlfriend’s. They seemed to be in a good mood.
Harry grinned. 

“Then would you mind lending her to me for some help with potions?”

Ron looked sheepish, while Hermione’s face changed to an apologetic
expression.

“Oh Harry, we just wanted to head outside.” She gestured to their attire
that clearly was meant to keep them warm in the cold grounds. Harry’s grin
lessened and turned awkward.

“Oh… oh well. Have fun?”

Hermione smiled. “I’ll help you when we’re back, alright? Maybe you can do
something else first?”

“Yeah, sure. I still got Herbology to do. Potions can wait.” Harry smiled to
reassure her it’s not a problem. His two friends deserved all the time they
could spend together. 

“Potions can always wait, if you ask me.” Ron grinned, then waved and pulled
Hermione to the portrait hole. “See you later, mate.”

Harry nodded, still smiling, but internally sighed. So much for getting potions
out of the way. 
He looked around the common room and considered asking one of his other
classmates for help, though he was fairly certain they were on the same level as
him.

The only people in his potions class who really understood what they were doing,
besides Slughorn, were Hermione and Malfoy.
Harry’s green eyes widened behind his spectacles and he sprung off his seat. 
Before the portrait closed behind Ron he sprinted after him, almost yelling.

“Ron, wait!”

The redhead caught the portrait and peeked inside the tower again, looking a
little alarmed.
“What’s up mate?”

Harry halted shortly before the hole in the wall. 
“Just… can I borrow Pigwidgeon?” 

Ron looked baffled. “Erm, sure. He’ll be happy to get something to do.”

“Brilliant, thanks!” Harry grinned and already rushed back to the table,
taking some unused parchment as he fell back in his seat and bit the tip of his
feather quill for a moment before starting to write. 

Ron had left with a curious stare and Harry followed them after ten minutes out
of the portrait hole, earning a scolding glance from the fat lady.
His feet though took him to the left. Passing the room of requirement on the
seventh floor he came up to the tower of the owlery some minutes later and
cursed himself for not wearing a cloak as he felt the cold draft from the top. 
Once again he cast a warming charm and eyed the letter in his left hand as he
walked up. If Hermione didn’t have time to help him, it was worth a try to ask
the other brilliant student of their class. In the worst case, Malfoy would say
no, or not reply at all (or insult him creatively as much as he could).  

As he reached the top steps, preparing to look out for the hyperactive
Pigwidgeon, he stopped short in his tracks and stared. 
Sometimes he had to wonder if these were coincidences, or if there was another
prophecy about him, that dictated he had to cross path with Draco Malfoy as much
as possible.

But there he stood; on the exact same spot Harry had seen him last time, cold
wind ruffling his hair and robes. And exactly like last time, he turned around
and spotted Harry, though this time the Gryffindor didn’t try to hide.

There was a moment of tension when the emerald gaze collided with the mercury
one and as none of them said anything it quickly turned awkward.
Suddenly Harry moved and stuffed the wand that had stayed in his right, hastily
somewhere in his pockets, from where it jutted out still half visible. 

When he looked back at the blond with wide eyes, to see if he took offence that
Harry had the wand out, he thought he could see the end of an eye-roll.   
Malfoy was the first to break the silence.

“Not running away this time, Potter?”

Harry felt his cheeks warming up in embarrassment, but defiantly took the last
step and moved on the platform of the tower. “I didn’t run away.”

An elegant blond eyebrow rose in the air and Harry saw Malfoy’s lips twitch.
“Then what would you call it? Accidentally walking away from being caught?”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “I was just-”

“What do you want this time, Potter?” Malfoy’s eye wandered to the wand
halfway sticking out of his pocket and Harry tried to inconspicuously push it in
further.  

“Why do you think I’d want something from you? This is the owlery. I’m
here to send a letter.” 
Harry held up the parchment as if to prove his right to be here, but he wasn’t
sure what about this gesture caused the blond to suddenly pull his pureblood
mask up again.

“Go ahead Potter. I wouldn’t want to delay our saviour’s important
messages.” 
With these as his parting words, Malfoy obviously had the intention to rush past
Harry to head downstairs, but the ravenette placed himself directly in
Malfoy’s path by stepping to the side.

The silver eyes widened in shocked surprise, before narrowing with dangerous
annoyance, while Harry’s own green once stayed round, since he had surprised
himself as well with that unconscious decision. 

“Actually-” He hastily said. “The letter is for you.”

The Slytherin’s eyes lost the hostility for a moment and repeated the process
of widening, then narrowing. 

“What…? What are you playing at Potter?”
 
“Nothing. It’s for you. I was going to send it, but when you’re actually
here…” Harry held the letter out for the blond and took a deep breath before
saying the next words. “I wanted to ask for your help.”

Malfoy’s gaze had dropped to the parchment and he sported a disbelieving look
on his face, apparently considering if he should take it as a joke or something
else. Then he looked up to study Harry’s eyes and after a few more tense
seconds came to the conclusion that the Gryffindor seemed to be sincere.
And then, just like it had happened once before, his demeanour changed and a
salacious smile curled around his lip that instantly dried up Harry’s throat.

“So you in fact do want something from me, Potter…” 
He reached for the paper and wrapped his hand around Harry’s fingers too as he
pulled it out of them. 
Harry pulled back as if he’d received an electric shock. It certainly felt
similar too it and he forgot to breath in that second while he felt his face
heating up.

He didn’t reply to Malfoy’s words, instead watched uncomfortably how the
Slytherin unfolded the letter, the blond looking as if it couldn’t interest
him any less and shuffled his feet as the silver gaze flew over the paper.  
Malfoy actually snorted. 

“Oh Potter. You’re pathetic. You really need help with that easy piece of
work?”

There was a definite pinch in Harry’s chest when the blond spoke those words
and he felt himself getting defensive.

“Well not everyone can be a natural at it. So are you going to help me or
not?” 
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, while Malfoy regarded him again with
surprise, but curiosity as well. 

“Tell me a reason why I should help you with this.”

Harry bit his cheek. What could he say to convince Malfoy to help him? 
A moment later he gave the blond a lopsided smile.

“Well… if you help me your chance to survive another lesson next to me might
increase.”

A variety of things flashed through Malfoy’s eyes, but hostility and animosity
weren’t part of them. It gave Harry hope.

“I’ll think about it.”

When Malfoy stepped around him to leave this time Harry didn’t try to stop
him. And despite not getting a direct answer or being any closer to finishing
his essay, he felt quite satisfied as he saw Malfoy pocketing his letter.



                          Kapitel 13: December, 13th
                          --------------------------


Harry had a free afternoon and decided to pay another visit to the owlery after
lunch (where a certain blond still remained suspiciously absent). This time the
owlery stayed Malfoy-free as well when he got there, and while that might have
extinguished the tiny spark of hope in Harry’s chest as he ascended the
stairs, it didn’t deter him in his cause. All it meant was that Pigwidgeon
finally got something to do. And Ron had been right, the tiny feather ball was
really enthusiastic about the delivery, then again, he was always enthusiastic.

After he’d sent the miniature owl on it’s short way, he met up with the rest
of the golden Trio as well as Neville and Luna in the library for some study
time. 
They worked together on the four feet essay for McGonagall (who was still
teaching, despite being the new headmaster); the Ravenclaw’s have gotten the
same assignment just on the day before. 

All of them were making good progress when suddenly Pigwidgeon come fluttering
in from the hallways, circling excitedly around Harry’s head and emitting
thin, happy chirping sounds. Madam Pince was on Harry’s heels before he could
even catch the eager ball of energy.

“No owls in the library Potter! Get out now!”

For insisting on silence in the holy halls of her library, Madam Pince herself
worked up quite the shout when she was kicking someone out. Harry though
wasn’t suicidal enough to start arguing that point and hurriedly stuffed his
parchment, quill, ink and books back into his bag, caught Pigwidgeon with a
Seeker’s skill and almost ran to the exit. 

In the corridor he scowled at the owl. 
“Great Pig. You could have gone to the common room. Now I have to finish this
alone.” 

There was no malice behind Harry’s words though and Pig chirped happily. The
ravenette wasn’t really angry with the owl after all, because he was way too
curious about the reply the tiny bird delivered. He untied it from Pig’s leg
and set him on his shoulder, where the owl started to pick at his hair, sticking
out in a naturally chaotic way from his head. Ignoring the slight pulling he
unfolded the letter and read it quickly.


Potter,

Don’t bother me, I haven’t decided yet. And what in Merlin’s name did you
send your message with?!

D.M.


Harry stopped walking and frowned. Well he hadn’t written much himself, but
somehow he had expected a different reply. Or rather, hoped for consent to his
request.
When Ron and Hermione had returned last evening, the potions essay or Harry
asking for Pigwidgeon was all but forgotten and the ravenette didn’t mind it.
No he was rather glad, because it prevented curious questions he didn’t want
to answer right now.
Hermione had asked about the essay though during breakfast and offered to help
him today, but he told her he’d handled it. Now he had to cross his fingers
that Malfoy really did help him.
Looking up he walked on but stopped again at the next large windowsill, where he
sat down and got out something to write.

Malfoy,

How long do you estimate you need for deciding? There’s not much time left,
you know? And this is Pig. Ron’s owl.

H.P.


Harry sent Pig with his reply right away, and then walked back to the common
room to continue his homework there.
And so it happened that the little owl had quite the busy afternoon.



________________________________________________________________________________

Potter, 

Figures, only Weasley would confuse an owl with a pig. And it’s not my problem
how much time you have left, my essay is already finished. 

D.M. 



_________________________________________________________________________________

Malfoy,

I know you’re probably enjoying it to keep me on tenterhooks, so please tell
me what I could do to sway your mind? 
And actually it wasn’t Ron who named Pig, but Ginny. And it has nothing to do
with a pig, it’s just a shortening of Pigwidgeon. 

H.P.



_________________________________________________________________________________

Potter,

Ah, I see you’re ready for a bargain now? Well, if I’d receive something
equally valuable as my tutoring from you, I might be, as you put it so nicely,
‘swayed’.
And it was still a Weasley who named that excuse for an owl.

D.M.



__________________________________________________________________________________

Harry thought hard. What could be good enough for Malfoy? Or be perceived by him
as equally valuable to his time? Harry couldn’t pay him back by helping him
out with another subject. Malfoy didn’t need help because he wasn’t only a
good student in potions as far as Harry knew. Not that he shared many classes
with the blond anymore.
Then he remembered something.


Malfoy,

Pig is a fine enough owl, be nice.
Alright, if you are willing to help me with that essay, I’ll help you with
your Patronus.

H.P.



_________________________________________________________________________________

Potter,

I said something equally valuable. You’re tutoring is hardly comparable to
mine. And anyway, what makes you think I need help with my Patronus?
Though if you really have nothing better to offer, I might take pity on you and
pretend I could use your unnecessary assistance.
Library 4p.m. tomorrow Potter. And don’t be late or this’ll be the last time
I am so lenient. 

D.M.




                          Kapitel 14: December, 14th
                          --------------------------


“And their not only useful, but also absolutely beautiful.” Neville said as
the four Gryffindors walked together back to the castle after their latest
Herbology lesson. 

“And the music! I think when I get my own place someday I’ll definitely put
them in my garden.” 

Hermione looked doubtful. “Do you think it’s a good idea? Imagine if the
maypop accidentally grows close to them… you’ll never be able to get in or
out of your house.”

The blond Gryffindor shrugged. “There are charms to prevent it, or nobody
would ever plant a branch.”

“Muggles have morning glory as well.” Harry chipped in, remembering all the
times he had to work in Aunt Petunia’s garden and had plenty of time to study
the neighbours’ gardens as well.

“But they don’t sing or attack burglars. My aunt never liked them though.
She always said it looks like weed on the walls.”

Ron snorted. “I’ve seen the green place in front of your aunt’s house and
it was rather one of those stark lifes than a garden.”

“I think you mean still lifes, Ron.” Hermione corrected with a smile. 

Their conversation went on as they entered the entrance hall and climbed the
stairs to Gryffindor tower. 
When they arrived Harry left the others in the common room and headed up to the
dormitory. 
There he transferred most of the content from his bag into his trunk, taking his
potions folder instead, but didn’t find his book. He searched for ten minutes,
but still came out empty handed.
Frustrated he took his bag and went down again, walking over to his friends who
claimed their seats in front of the fireplace. 

“Has any of you seen my potions book?” He asked, looking around but not
spotting it.

“I think I’ve seen a book on the couch before.” Ron said and pointed to
the seat Neville sat on. Neville’s eyes went wide and he scooted forward and
turned around to see if he sat on any book.

“Uhm.. this one?” He asked sheepishly as he held the copy of ‘Very
Advanced Potions’ up that he’d found.
Harry took it, opened the cover and nodded.

“Yep, thanks.”

“Sorry mate.”

“No problem.” Harry grinned.
“Are you going somewhere Harry?” Hermione, who had looked scandalous when
Neville discovered the book beneath his behind, now looked curiously at her best
friend. 

“Uhm yes. Library. Study time.” The ravenette said curtly and Hermione’s
eyebrows rose up as he just received incredulous stares from the two males.

“I haven’t nagged you to go, yet.” Hermione said bluntly, causing the boys
to exchange looks and grin. “And I thought you already finished your potions
essay?” 

Harry shifted. “Uhm well. Doesn’t mean I can’t use more studying,
right?” He didn’t deny he was going to study for potions, not after his
frantic search for the book.

“Mate, don’t get me worried about you.” Ron laughed and Harry grinned.

“I would never. See you later guys.” 

And with that he was on his way to the library. It wasn’t quite 4 p.m. yet,
but he felt for unknown reasons too edgy to just sit around the common room.
Rather sit around the library then.
Making sure to walk as quietly as possible past Madam Pince he looked around for
an empty table and was surprised when he saw Malfoy already sitting at one half
hidden behind a shelf in the back. Harry walked over and stopped in front of the
table, causing the blond to look up.

“You’re early.” Malfoy stated.

“Well, you too.”

“Nicely observed Potter. I thought, since you’re such a hard case I need
some preparation.” He gestured to the books piled on the table and Harry eyes
them with apprehension.

“What is your excuse? Couldn’t wait to see me?” He smirked.

Harry busied himself with pulling the chair next to Malfoy away from the table
to sit down, ignoring his fluttering stomach.

“If that’s what you like to think.” He completely missed Malfoy giving him
a contemplative look when he bent down and got what he needed out of his bag.

“You’d like that Potter? Me thinking about you?”

Harry nearly knocked over his ink pot, but caught it in time. He looked at the
Slytherin with guarded questions in his eyes, but the blond only smirked again.

“Well if you’re here already we might as well start right away. I really
don’t know what your problem is, because Antidotes are pretty simple, as long
as you know the characteristics of the properties and how they interact with
each other. Which,” He continued as Harry blew out air from a deep breath.
“You clearly don’t, as you so kindly demonstrated on Monday. By the way, I
still don’t understand why you act so moronic during lessons now, when you did
so well in sixth year.” Malfoy gave him a suspicious eye.

“I do know the qualities.” Harry defended himself, evading the comment about
sixth year completely and promptly received a raised eyebrow from the blond.
“Well okay maybe not all of them. And I confuse them with each other
sometimes. It’s a lot to know, you have to admit.”

Malfoy inclined his head. “It is. But since we’re learning it for seven
years now, one could think that some of it should be stuck in your scrubby
head.” Malfoy gave his hair a critical glance and reflexively Harry brought
his hand up to flatten it, causing the blond’s lips to twitch.

 “One also could think that you didn’t pay enough attention in class. Have
you been occupied with something else, Potter?” The, admittedly rather well
formed, lips got pulled into another smirk.

“Don’t tell me you pay 100% attention in all classes Malfoy…” Harry
replied evasively.

The Slytherin shrugged. “I do in those that matter. Now…” He pulled one of
the books closer, opened it and shoved it under Harry’s nose. “I fear if I
want your thick brain to understand what we are doing, I need to repeat the
basics with you. So listen closely, or I’ll make you regret it.”

Despite the threat (that had a disturbing effect on Harry, probably not like
Malfoy planned it), the study session went rather well and for the first time
since getting rid of the Prince’s book, Potions didn’t seem to be so
horrible. They didn’t let it bother them when Madam Pince repeatedly walked by
their table with a piercing stare, looking, as Harry suspected, for owls and
didn’t mention it when their thighs brushed the other’s maybe a little too
often.
And before they knew it, dinner time had arrived.



                          Kapitel 15: December, 15th
                          --------------------------


The morning had started surprisingly well, despite having another double Potions
lesson first thing. 

Harry actually understood, while not everything, a lot more than in all of his
other years taking this subject before. Even with the prince’s instructions,
he’d just been a follower. Now he in fact understood the leads. At least
better than before.

His essay also turned out quite well. Malfoy and he had parted ways for dinner
after their studying, agreeing on a different date for the Patronus practise
(because Harry insisted they needed to practise together, of course.)

And when Harry sat down next to Malfoy again for the lessons, the blond greeted
him with the obligatory scowl, but at least didn’t complain anymore. Harry
took it as a good sign.

They actually had to work together today, needing to share a cauldron.
The antidote to Veritaserum needed to simmer for half a month and Slughorn
announced they’d receive marks for the current state of their potion, but only
half of the potions would be brought to an end after the estimated time. For
that they will have to work in pairs as well.
Then the jovial Professor emptied half the cauldrons so they could work in pairs
on the new potion for now.

Harry was especially thrilled when the blond Slytherin explained things he
questioned him about, despite doing so with a lot of annoyed huffs and
underlining it with the rolling of his silver eyes. 

As astonishingly good double Potions went, as bad had been the following Defence
class.  

The ravenette did have the intention to walk with Malfoy to the next class,
since Slytherins and Gryffindors took it together, but the blond had cleaned up
his place and left so swiftly that Harry lost sight off him. Instead he walked
with Ron and Hermione and Harry had the remote impression Ron only didn’t
comment on his sudden need to work with Malfoy, because his girlfriend had him
on a short leash. But maybe the redhead said something and the Man Who Lived
Twice just didn’t notice, since he was scanning the crowd for a flash of
white-blond hair. When they entered the classroom he looked around with a frown;
Malfoy wasn’t there yet.

Harry chuckled to himself as he took his seat, the thought occurring that the
blond had been in such a hurry because he needed to use the bathroom. 
But his humour quickly dissipated when the lesson started and his most wanted
Slytherin still didn’t show up. The missing presence of the blond distracted
Harry so much that when they had to cast a Patronus against Professor
Carbuncle’s charm that weakly imitated the Dementors effects, he failed
embarrassingly twice before managing his Patronus. 

In fact, potions had been the last time that day he had seen the bloke. 
At lunch Harry once again looked out for him in vain. History of Magic, a
subject that didn’t have the ability to catch his attention on a good day,
passed in a blur leaving him with no clue what the ghostly Professor had been
talking about. 
Harry couldn’t concentrate for the life of him, too concerned that maybe
something had happened to the blond. He hoped not, but he couldn’t eliminate
the possibility of one of the students’ pranks against him escalating. 

After his last class of the day he quickly walked by the Hospital Wing, but none
of the beds were occupied. Then he searched in every corner of the library for a
hint of the blond, but to no avail. Harry spent another anxious hour in the
library, sitting on a table in plain sight of the entrance, pretending to read
and looking up every time somebody entered or left. But Malfoy never was one of
them. 
As he finally left, feeling defeated, he decided to go back to the common room
first, where he met Ron and Hermione.

“Harry, where have you been?” His concerned friend asked.

“Library…” He muttered, earning a surprised raise of eyebrows from one and
an incredulous look from the other.

“Again?!” Ron sounded bemused and confused at the same time. “You’re not
turning into Hermione, are y- ouf!” The redhead couldn’t finish the sentence
thanks to the sharp elbow that suddenly met his rips.

“At least Harry finally realized how important studying is, right Harry?”
Hermione said as if she hadn’t just manhandled her boyfriend. Harry pressed
his lips together and didn’t meet her eyes as he nodded.

“Alright, why don’t you just tell us next time when you go, then we can all
study together again?”
Harry nodded once more, wondering if ‘all’ would include Malfoy as well.

Dinner had been as Malfoy-less as the rest of the week’s meal times and Harry
barely ate anything. His stomach was already filled with a nagging feeling of
worry. 

Later as they were back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry had enough of not
knowing what was going on and fell back into an old habit. He entrenched himself
and the marauder’s map behind his bed curtains in the boy’s dorm, casting a
silencing charm and activating the map.

Harry watched as the thin ink lines spread out before him, drawing the castle
and revealing the whereabouts of its inhabits in form of tiny moving or unmoving
dots. 
He wished he had thought of the map earlier today as his eyes flickered over its
surface, searching for a specific name. 
Checking the Hospital Wing again, there only was the name of the nurse Madam
Pomfrey, but neither the Slytherin common room not the dormitories showed Draco
Malfoy as well. Looking at the grounds also didn’t reveal him and so Harry
looked tediously from dot to dot in hopes of stumbling over the right one. He
grew bored of that task quickly and went back to attempting to conclude where
the blond could be.

His eyes shifted to the place where the Room of Requirement was located on the
map. Would Malfoy go in there, if the room still worked? That would explain why
he didn’t see him on the map.
Then something caught his eye close to the room and Harry would have face-palmed
if the feeling of relief didn’t make him feel so giddy.

The owlery! Of course the git was in the owlery! Why hadn’t that been the
first place Harry had looked? How long had the Slytherin been there? Did Harry
have time to rush over and confront him? But what would he say… 

Deciding to concern himself about words when he faced the blond, Harry hurriedly
pushed the curtains aside and scrambled out of bed. After he shoved his feet
back in his shoes he ran down the stairs and threw another confirming glance at
the map before he reached the bottom. He abruptly stopped when he saw the dot of
Draco Malfoy walking away from the owlery.

“Oh no no no, you don’t!” He yelled and rushed on, jumping off the last
few steps, straight into Neville, who apparently had looked up the staircase
after hearing his shout. Both young men went down with similar groans.

“Sorry, mate…”

“It’s alright. Harry… what’s wrong?”

They helped each other up and Harry found that everyone in the common room was
staring at them, some girls even pointing and giggling as they whispered to each
other.
Harry straightened his glasses and picked up the marauder’s map that had
fluttered from his grasp as they fell. 

“Uhm…. Nothing.”

Neville gave him a concerned glance. “You sure? What were you yelling
about?”

Harry felt slightly embarrassed by his behaviour and cleared his throat, trying
to think of something yell-worthy that had nothing to do with a certain blond
Slytherin. He took a quick look at the map, spotting Malfoy almost instantly
this time and saw that he was almost back to the dungeons. Harry furrowed his
brows in frustration.

“It was nothing… really. I’ll, uhm, just gonna take this upstairs.” He
waved with the map. 

“See you later. And sorry again!” He made a fast retreat back to the
dormitory.

He spread the map out on his bed, sitting next to it and contemplated what to do
now; Malfoy was back with the Slytherins.

Suddenly a knocking on the window let him look up. A vaguely familiar looking
eagle owl pecked its beak against the glass and Harry jumped up to let it in. It
landed on his bedside table and held its leg out so the ravenette could take the
attached note. Removing it he studied the bird all the while, noticing its regal
attitude and trying to remember where he’d seen it before. He walked quickly
to Ron’s bedside, opened a drawer and took out some owl biscuits that he
offered to the bird. It eyed him distrustfully, before taking the biscuit with
dignity, but then nipped his finger sharply.

“Hey!” Harry hastily pulled his hand away with a glare at the bird. 
“What? Is this not to your tastes? Be happy you got anything at all, bloody
bird!” 

The bloody bird screeched and puffed up its feathers and Harry sucked the cut on
his finger that the sharp beak had dealt him, as he unfolded the note with his
other hand.
When he read it his heart skipped a beat and all anger was forgotten.

Potter,

I told you I’ll write a time I can spare for your unnecessary tutoring, so
here it is:

Sunday, 10 a.m.

We’ll meet at the base of the owlery and go looking for a classroom that suits
our purpose from there.

D. M.

PS: By the way this is Aeolus. He’s what you call a real owl. 


Harry looked up at the eagle owl and snorted, earning another screech and a
scowl from the bird. Now he knew where he’d seen it before. And honestly, he
could have guessed.



                          Kapitel 16: December, 16th
                          --------------------------


Since the first snowfall, the powdery cold flakes held on to the grounds of
Hogwarts and the nearby wizard’s village persistently. 
Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way down to Hogsmeade after breakfast,
clothed in thick cloaks, woollen gloves and long scarves to protect them against
the cold.
When they looked down, the village gave the impression of being covered in
icing. 
The plan was to do some last minute Christmas shopping together or separate for
it if necessary and later meet Neville, Luna, Seamus, Becky, Dean and Ginny in
the three broomsticks. Harry was more than glad that Seamus and Becky came along
as well, so he wasn’t the only bachelor amongst three couples. 

A cheerful bustle greeted them when they entered the village. Already many
Hogwarts students filled the streets and shops even though it was barely ten in
the morning. They were not the only ones with the idea of squeezing in some gift
buying before Christmas.
The trio knew it would be far worse in the afternoon, that’s why they’ve
chosen to go early as well.

 They paid a visit to Zonko’s, more out of habit, than to actually buy
anything. It appealed more to the younger students and if the three of them
wanted something from a joke shop, they’d ask George. 

Honeydukes was a completely different matter, since there was always something
of interest and not only for Christmas too. But a few Chocolate Frogs or Bertie
Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and maybe something of the more experimental stuff
could never hurt to get for some people. So Harry asked his two friends to go
ahead after they paid for their sweets and when they left grabbed some more to
add to what he already had for them.

He caught up with them outside and they walked past some food booths on the
street, selling delicious smelling pulled pork sliders, corn dogs, caramel corn
as well as colour and flavour changing cotton candy (Harry, never having seen a
food fair in Hogsmeade or anywhere in the wizarding world before, wondered if
any of the food was like the muggle versions.)
Ron insisted they had to try some of this and that, even though they had
breakfast merely an hour ago, but Hermione pulled him away and told him he could
get some food after they’re done with their shopping.

The next stop was Dervish& Bangs where Ron found a flat and very small flannel
that was called the ‘spring-clean-sponge’ and apparently used to remove fog
or finger prints from glasses. It had to be put on the earpiece of the glasses
where it would curl until they fogged up or prevented the owner in other
dirt-related ways to see. Then it would spring to life and sweep the glasses
clean, without any effort of the witch or wizard wearing them. 
Ron suggested Harry should get it for himself, but Harry found it more than a
little weird and declined. He didn’t want something that suddenly popped up in
his vision.   

Afterwards Hermione wanted to stop by Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop before they
made the way to their last shopping destination – the bookshop Tomes and
Scrolls. 
In the quill shop Ron had pulled Harry aside and asked him to distract Hermione
in Tomes and Scrolls and so the ravenette found himself strolling between the
shelves with his female best friend, not doubting for a second that she knew
what Ron was up to but she still happily browsed books with him. Though when
wasn’t Hermione happy around books?

She trailed her fingers over the backs of some books as she walked along,
sometimes pulling one with an interesting title out of the shelf and looking
further into it, though after 15 minutes she still hasn’t settled on a book
she’d like to buy today, even if several got her interest. Harry meanwhile
trailed after her, looking around with less curiosity, but the history section
really wasn’t what held his attention. 

“Oh Harry, look! They have a copy of the ‘Collection of Gertie Keddle’s
Diaries’.” Hermione held the book up to him but only was met with a confused
frown. Harry knew he’d heard the name somewhere or maybe read about it, though
he couldn’t place why this collection would be so special. Hermione rolled her
eyes.

“Gertie Keddle’s Diary Harry. She’s mentioned in ‘Quidditch Through the
Ages’. The one who took notes of her neighbours playing what was the
beginnings of quidditch.”

Harry’s eyes lid up as he finally remembered. Alright maybe some part of the
history section managed to get his attention. He took the book from Hermione and
leafed through it, reading a few passages and contemplating if he should buy it.
The batty witch didn’t have a good word about the game and her wording was
atrocious to read, but still, it was more details about the beginnings of his
favourite sport. 
He was still trying to make up his mind when Ron came up to them, carrying one
more suspicious bag than before. 

“Hey. Found anything interesting?” He tried to sound casual.

“Oh loads, but I just can’t decide.” Hermione said equally casual, then
added with an overly sweet smile. “And you?”

Ron blushed, making his skin colour clash with his red hair. “Uhm… maybe.”
He looked away, choosing an avoiding answer since he couldn’t lie to his
girlfriend. Hermione smiled genuinely, then pulled two books out of the shelves.


“I might get these, what do you think Ronald?” 

The redhead looked up, grateful for the change of topic and eyed the books.
“Yeah, looks good… I guess.” He said sheepishly.

“Alright then.” The young witch replied happily. “Are you going to get
that book Harry?”

The ravenette shrugged. “Yeah, might as well.” 

They went to pay for their purchases, while Harry and Ron got into a discussion
over the diary entries. Ron already signed up to borrow the book when Harry was
through.
As they waited in the queue Harry looked over the stands with books on sale to
their sides. One of them that displayed matching journals caught his interest.
Hermione saw him staring at them.

“Oh they still have these journals. I briefly contemplated getting them in
fifth year for the DA, you know, but the coins just proved more efficient and I
think the journals are only for two people anyway. I don’t think they still
worked if you ripped the pages out and distributed them.”

“Oh.” Said Harry, transfixed by the display. “So they’re similar to the
coins? You write a message in one and it appears in the other?” Hermione
nodded, eyeing him curiously.

“Sounds useful.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. 
Acting on impulse he walked over, picked up a set of dark green journals, and
then joined his friends in the queue again.  

Ron looked puzzled. “What do you need them for, mate?”

The ravenette shrugged. “Could be useful some time, you know?”

Ron didn’t know, but probably thought that Harry was still affected by
memories of their hiding in the woods, where journals like these indeed would
have been useful. Hermione had that knowing look in her eyes again which her
boyfriend didn’t notice and her other friend skilfully ignored.
But Harry, in fact, knew what he needed them for. There still was one person he
didn’t have a gift for after all, and he could honestly live without further
encounters with snobby owls.



                          Kapitel 17: December, 17th
                          --------------------------


Surprisingly for a Sunday morning, Harry wasn’t the only one of his house to
get an early start. He went down to breakfast at a little later than half past
nine, but was joined at the Gryffindor table by Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna,
who they had met in the entrance hall, approximately half an hour later.  
As they ate a rich breakfast consisting of oatmeal, eggs, bacon, ham-sandwiches,
buttered toast and other things, their conversation turned to the soon upcoming
holidays.
Luna was telling them about the trip to the Alps she had planned with her dad,
to look for some ludicrous magical creature or other.

“And what do these Rubbynuffs do exactly?” Ron asked with a grin, clearly
not believing in their existence, but still very interested in the explanation
of their peculiar friend and she enthusiastically launched into it.

“They are the reason for the muggles’ belief that Santa’s sleigh is pulled
by flying reindeers.”

Ron and Neville exchanged a look that clearly said: ‘Who’s Santa?’

Luna continued as if she hadn’t noticed the look or didn’t think it was
important. 
“They look similar to reindeers, but there are actually many differences. The
antlers have a differing shape, they can survive by eating snow only and they
can jump extremely high, which probably gave the impression of flying. And they
are incredibly shy. As soon as they sense a human or dangerous animal close by,
they’ll jump away.”

“Won’t it be difficult to get a look at them when they’re so shy?” Harry
asked after swallowing his bacon. Luna nodded, but didn’t lose her
enthusiasm.

“Certainly. But Rubbynuffs lose their antlers every three years and grow new
ones. The antlers have very strong health properties. If you’re lucky to find
the lost antlers within ten days after they’d been shed, you can powder and
make tea from them to improve you health. Some even say it can support healing
chronic diseases.”

Neville looked impressed, Ron still a little sceptical, while Harry wouldn’t
count the possibility of the Rubbynuffs existence outright out. Luna had been
right about other mystical things before.

“What happens when you don’t find the antlers within ten day?” asked
Hermione.

“Then they start to resemble branches and lose the health qualities.”

The other girl nodded in understanding and then turned to Neville.

“What are you plans for the holidays, Neville?”
  
The blond toyed around with the rest of his oatmeal. “Well I would’ve loved
to join Luna and her dad, but my gran doesn’t want me to be away over
Christmas, at least not this year, so I’m staying home. What about you
guys?”

“I’m staying with Ron at his parents’ house.” Hermione replied
immediately with a happy smile. “I’ll only have dinner at the 25th with my
parents…”
She didn’t need to mention that her relationship to her parents was delicate
at best at the moment. Erasing their memories had opened a rift of distrust
towards their daughter, even though they understood Hermione’s reasons. But
the Gryffindor girl was emotionally strong and positive it will get better with
time.

“Harry is going to stay at Ron’s too, right Harry?”

“Er…” Startled, since his thoughts had drifted off, Harry needed a moment
to catch up with the conversation, but then he nodded, maybe a little too much.

“Yes, of course. I am.” Where else could he go? Staying alone at Hogwarts or
Grimmauld didn’t sound very appealing. Not to say that Molly Weasley would
have his head if he declined her insistent invitation. 

“You know…” Luna spoke up again, looking dreamily across the room to the
Slytherin table. “It would be perfect if Gryffindors would be sitting with
Slytherins together.”

Everyone of her friends stared at her with a gobsmacked expression, both because
of the abrupt change in topic and the absurdity of the mere suggestion. The war
might have been over, but the relationship between Slytherin and the other
houses was still rather tense at times, especially between the snakes and the
lions. 

“Think about it.” Luna encouraged them. “Gryffindors wear red in their
uniform, right? And Slytherins green. Red and green make the perfect traditional
Christmas colours!”

The girl looked rather happy with her proposition, while the others slowly awoke
from their short stupor and started to discuss the merits of getting rid of
house tables. 
Harry didn’t join in. He’d followed Luna’s line of vision, but of course
the person he wanted to see there hadn’t shown up. His heart though was
beating a little more enthusiastic than usual from Luna’s idea. Images of him
and a certain blond taking meals together conjured a tingling feeling in his
stomach region. The thought was quite nice and maybe not so impossible anymore,
Harry contemplated. He found they were getting along rather well as of late and
was actually looking forward to the tutoring, even if Malfoy would probably be
purposefully difficult about it. Looking back at the table Harry was reminded of
the plan he made a few days ago and that he didn’t have a chance to execute so
far. Maybe today was the day.

“Hungry, mate?” asked Ron five minutes later with a bemused half-grin, after
Harry had enlarged his plate and filled it with scrambled eggs, bacon and
ham-sandwiches. Harry grinned back.

“Could be later. Better pack it now as a precaution.” And with that he
pointed his wand at the plate and it was wrapped in a cardboard lunch box, then
he shrunk the whole package and pocketed it. Ron’s eyes lid up.

“Brilliant idea, mate!” He started to fill is plate anew, but Hermione
swatted his hand away.

“Ronald, you don’t need it!” The women said sternly and unrelenting in
face of her boyfriend’s protesting expression.

“But for Harry it’s alright? Come on, how is that fair?” Ron’s whining
caused his friends to chuckle and himself to break out into a sheepish grin. 
Harry’s amusement though turned into shock when he caught sight of the time on
the watch he’d gotten from Mrs.Weasley for his seventeenth birthday. He had
only a couple of minutes left to not be late for his date with Malfoy. Tutoring
date. Not date date of course. 
Springing up all of a sudden he received some alarmed looks from his friends.

“Uhm… gotta go. See you later guys!”

“Where-?”

“What are-?”

But before anyone could finish their questions Harry was already sprinting
through the doors of the Great Hall.
Harry had more than his fair share of running in his life and his body was
rather used to the exertion, but running up several flights of stairs in barely
five minutes left him sweating and wheezing like a chain smoker as he stumbled
towards the stairs to the owlery. Malfoy wasn’t there yet (Harry mentally
crossed his fingers that the Slytherin hasn’t just left after not seeing him.
The ravenette managed to only be one minute late).
He leaned against the wall of the corridor for a few seconds, trying to catch
his breath, but then decided he preferred leaning forward, bracing his hands on
his knees.

“Getting old Potter? You used to be in better shape.”

At the sound of the mocking voice Harry’s body snapped up and he whirled
around to stare at the blond man standing on one of the first steps to the
owlery.

“I… didn’t hear you coming…” said the Gryffindor, his heart still
beating madly from the run, and frowned at the other who just smirked.

“I wouldn’t think so. Then again, hardly anything could be heard over your
obnoxiously loud breathing.”

Harry reflexively held his breath and thought he saw the blond’s lips twitch
at the corners. He couldn’t hold it in for long though before his lungs
started screaming for oxygen and he released the air in a rush, picking up the
normal rhythm again.

“As entertaining as this is Potter, let’s get started on what we came here
for before it’ll take all day. The sooner we’re done, the better.” Malfoy
crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry tried to suppress the sudden pinch in his chest that felt very similar to
disappointment.   

“Erm, okay. Basically we just need a room.” 

There was a dangerous glimmer in the silver eyes that, combined with the smirk
curling his lips, made Malfoy look positively wicked. In a very alluring way.
Harry’s stomach jumped.

“Already wanting to get a room with me, Potter? Never thought you to be so
brash.”

Harry’s eyes went round and he just knew his face was flaming red.
“A room for practise, Malfoy!”

“Of course, Potter… practise.”

Merlin help him, but when Malfoy pronounced the word it sounded all kinds of
wrong and right at the same time. When Harry thought his heart had been racing
before from the run he clearly didn’t know the correct definition, because now
it was hammering so hard that he had all reasons to get concerned about his
health. Not to mention his clenching stomach and the pleasant pull in his
loins.

Harry abruptly turned away from the blond, feeling panicked. He didn’t
understand his reactions to the blond. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t want to
believe it, because honestly, what kind of twisted joke of the universe was that
now??

“Let’s just find a bloody empty classroom. Can’t be so difficult in this
castle on a Sunday.” Harry said with a tight voice and just stalked off,
hoping the blond would follow.

He felt embarrassed and confused and maybe a little bit angry at himself, but he
didn’t want the blond to change his mind about spending time with him. The
sound of footsteps that mingled with his own reassured him that the other man
was following. 
Randomly pulling at doors seemed to prove rather successful (and helped quench
his anger a little) and so they quickly found a suitable unused classroom for
their plans.
Malfoy entered behind him and closed the door and after a deep breath Harry had
calmed enough to face the blond again without a blushing face. Malfoy looked
indifferent.

“So…” Harry began and, suddenly doubting if he wanted to spend a prolonged
period of time with Malfoy alone in a classroom, proceeded to get to the point.


“You know all about the theory of the Patronus Charm and since you’re such a
smartass I doubt you don’t understand it. You’re trouble lies with the
practical part so we’ll just… shit.” Harry’s eyes widened when he
suddenly remembered something. Malfoy, who had looked bored through his speech,
raised an elegant eyebrow. 

“Do you… do we need a professor for supervision? You know, because of
your… constraints.”

Malfoy had narrowed his eyes first but now rolled them in obvious annoyance. 
“No, Potter. In case you have the habit of going temporarily blind or stupid
I’d like to remind you that you’ve seen me perform magic without a professor
nearby to keep me from cursing every other student.” He huffed, before adding
a less insulting explanation. 
“As long as I’m on the grounds of Hogwarts it counts as ‘supervised’.”
The expression on his face clearly told Harry how dense the blond found this
regulation and the Gryffindor silently agreed.

“Right… okay. Then we can start I think. Do you want to describe where you
have problems with the spell?”

Malfoy sighed. “No Potter. I don’t. As I have told you before, I have no
problems with that spell.”

Harry just returned the bored look now. “Well, since you’re the only one in
our class unable to cast a proper Patronus you’ve got to have problems with it
somehow. If it’s not the spell, then what?”

The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest again and looked rather defiant.
“Do you really not know Potter?”

Malfoy gave him a look and Harry understood that the blond couldn’t admit it,
but wanted for Harry to find out himself.

“Well the most common problem in conjuring a corporal Patronus, if there’s
not other reason, is the lack of a strong enough happy memory.”

The room was suddenly so silent after he closed his mouth again that he almost
heard his own blood rushing through his ears. Malfoy didn’t meet his eyes, but
looked stiffly to some point over Harry’s left shoulder, obviously trying not
to blink but being forced to by his stinging eyes anyway.
The Gryffindor let out a silent sigh, looked around and then walked to a table,
sat down on a chair next to it and pushed the other chair standing there back
with his foot. 

“Come on Malfoy, sit down.”

He didn’t look at the blond but felt his heavy stare and could see from the
corners of his eyes that he eyed the chair distrustfully, as if Harry had jinxed
it.

“No. I prefer to stand.”

Now the ravenette turned his head and his emerald eyes met with Malfoy’s
silver ones.
“Stop being difficult.”

The blond shot him a glare, but begrudgingly walked closer and gracefully sat
down, without unfolding his arms once.

Under the scrutinizing gaze of the Slytherin Harry got out the shrunken plate,
put it on the table and restored the original size with a flick of his wand.
Malfoy snorted.

“Didn’t have time for breakfast Potter?”

“Oh I had plenty.” Replied Harry calmly as he studied the blond carefully.
“This is for you.”

Malfoy’s head snapped up. “…What?!”

They Gryffindor bit the inside of his cheek shortly before the next words rushed
out of his mouth. 
“I haven’t seen you in the Great Hall during meal times lately and you look
all tired and haggard. For this spell you need all the strength you can get.”
He pushed the plate slightly towards Malfoy to emphasize his statement. The
other man just stared at him with exasperated disbelief all over his face.

“… what are you Potter? My house-elf?! Is that why you’ve been stalking me
this time? Tell me, why do you always think you have the right to
interfere??”
The last question didn’t sit well with the man who lived twice, probably
because of the truth that rang in it. 

“I… haven’t been stalking you.” He said lamely as a response, before
more burst out of him.

“It’s just… if you don’t take care of yourself, somebody else has too!
You haven’t been eating at least for two weeks and you can’t survive without
eating Malfoy! You’re not a Rubbynuff!”
Harry’s voice got louder as his worry and anger got the better of him and he
didn’t pause to explain to the momentarily confused looking blond about
Rubbynuffs.
“I don’t want you to get sick! I-..I worry about you!”

Malfoy gaped while Harry stared at him with wide concerned eyes, his cheeks
coloured with a red hue. The following silence stretched and Harry couldn’t
hold the shocked gaze of his former rival anymore and looked down.
Suddenly Malfoy let out a short hollow laugh that made Harry flinch.

“Sure Potter… nice joke.”

Harry snapped his eyes up again, with all the confusion, worry and the urge to
make the other man believe written all over them and the blond leaned back with
a sharp intake of breath.

“It’s not a bloody joke Malfoy! I would never be joking about this! I know
what it’s like to be an outcast, believe me and I want to help you!”

The blond’s face scrunched up for a moment and then it was his turn to break
the eye contact and look down.

“You can’t save everyone, Potter.” 

The words sounded so incredible defeated, as if Malfoy had completely given up
on himself that Harry couldn’t breathe for moment. He wanted to hit something,
yell at the blond or maybe shake him, but instead he swallowed his frustration
and stared at the lean man intently.

“Come on Malfoy, I’m trying to offer you a hand here…”

That got his attention. Malfoy looked up with a look of epiphany in his silver
eyes.

“What?”

“Uhm… I know I can’t help you if y-”

“Do it.”

Now Harry looked confused. “Do what?”

“Offer me a hand.” The Slytherin suddenly gave him such an expectant, almost
hopeful look that Harry started to feel self-conscious.

He slowly lifted his right arm and stretched the hand out towards Malfoy with
the silent question if that is what he wanted.

Malfoy though just looked at the hand in awe. After ten seconds of nothing else
happening Harry started to feel awkward, but didn’t pull the hand back just
yet. He watched the expression’s on the blond’s face change and tried to
decipher what they meant. Disbelief, hurt, arrogance, contemplation… he
couldn’t be sure and the other barely settled for one of them. 
And then, after what felt like an eternity (his arm felt rather heavy by now)
the blond unfolded his arms and closed a warm hand around Harry’s. The saviour
of the wizarding world gasped.

“Took you long enough, Scarhead.” 

The hesitant warm pressure on his hand prompted Harry’s heart to beat faster
once more and he squeezed back gently.

“I know.” 

They shared a short smile, before letting go of each other’s hands. Harry was
stunned by the fact that this was the first time in a little over seven years
that he’s seen Malfoy genuinely smile and decided he wanted to see more of it.
Malfoy looked very handsome with an honest smile.

The blond cleared his throat. “Just to clear something up; I’m not trying to
starve myself, I’m taking nutrition potions. You can stop being…
worried.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he imagined the light pink on the blond’s cheeks, but
this information didn’t cease his worry by much. “But those aren’t suited
for long term use, are they?”

The other man gave him a teasing smirk that set something loose in Harry’s
stomach.
“Finally paid attention in class Potter? Didn’t think I’d live to see the
day. Anyway, it won’t kill me to take them for the last year in this hellhole
and it helps avoiding the idiots during meal times. I appreciate some peace and
quiet.”

The ravenette frowned. “It might not kill you, but probably weaken you a great
amount. You’re body needs to process food to not shut down the organs and
you’re already very thin. If you don’t want to deal with anyone else you
could sit with me now.”

That elicited a pretty loud snort from the Slytherin. “Sit at the Gryffindor
table?? Never thought you had a sense of humour Potter. Why don’t you sit at
the Slytherin table?”

“You know I might do that.” Harry said with a serious tone. “Luna
suggested mixing Gryffindors and Slytherins would make great Christmas
decoration.”

Malfoy laughed out loud. An honest, joyful laugh and Harry’s lips spread into
a wide grin. The fluttering in his stomach now an accepted attendant symptom
whenever he liked something about the other man.      

“Spare me Potter, please. I really don’t need more of a commotion.”

Despite the words, that was the happiest Harry had seen the blond in weeks. Or
maybe month. 

“Petty.” He grinned and was nearly sure this time to see a blush on
Malfoy’s face. Somehow he felt quite satisfied.

“But I’m not letting you off.” He added and transfigured a piece of chalk
on the table next to him into a fork, picked it up and put it on the plate.
“Eat up.”

“You’re insane Potter.” Malfoy scoffed, but without malice. 

“Debatably.” Harry grinned. “Come on, I’ll even heat it up for you.” 
And swinging his wand he did just that, warming up the eggs and bacon again
which started to smell mouth-wateringly. Malfoy shook his head.

“I’ve already taken the potion today.”

“Good. And now you will eat this also.” Harry fanned his hand so the smell
of the food hit Malfoy directly in the face. He saw the blond bite his lip and
knew he was on the way to win.
The Slytherin sighed theatrically.

“Will you stop bothering me if I eat some?”

“Yes.” The ravenette replied immediately, but mentally added for now. 

With a big show of exasperation Malfoy picked up the fork, stabbed some
scrambled eggs with it and put them in his mouth. He closed his eyes as he
chewed and once again Harry couldn’t suppress a grin.

“You’ve missed that, didn’t you?”

The silver was revealed again, accompanied by a glare for Harry.

“Shut up Potter.” The glaring blond said out of habit after swallowing his
mouthful and started to dig in for real.
After he finished the bacon, most of the eggs and a sandwich, the blond leaned
back, feeling stuffed.
 
“Alright Potter… I might accept you as my personal house-elf…”

Harry playfully shoved him in the shoulder, earning another harmless glare.

“Forget it you git. You can come with me to the Great Hall from now on. Or
maybe-” He added after Malfoy gave him a look. “to the kitchens if you
prefer the ‘peace and quiet’. Totally can relate to that though. And the
real house-elves are very accommodating. Deal?”

“… I’ll think about it.” The last time Malfoy had said this it ended
with a ‘yes’ so Harry felt positive about it . With that the topic dropped
and they turned to their original purpose.

Since their practise was limited to the amounts of charms the Slytherin was
allowed to use, Harry made sure to talk the blond through happy memories or
thoughts at first. Even if it meant to be subjected to comments like ‘Potter
falling off his broom’ ‘Potter getting detention’ ‘Potter being declared
mad by the ministry’. He had the sure feeling Malfoy didn’t mean it and just
wanted to tease him and Harry just liked it too much that the blond was
comfortable enough around him for that to stop it. Eventually the blond had
settled on a memory, but refused to tell Harry what it was. The ravenette
didn’t care, as long as it worked for Malfoy.

After two hours of concentrating and teasing, Malfoy produced an incorporeal,
misty Patronus, though it was a pretty thick mist. 
They called it quits for today, but Harry felt confident that it wouldn’t take
much longer for the other man to master the spell. 
By now lunch time started and Harry tried to persuade the blond to come eat with
him, but he declined.

“Not today Potter. Besides, I’m still stuffed from that breakfast you forced
me to eat.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Harry pointed his wand at the plate where eggs and
several sandwiches still were piled up and boxed it up again, this time without
shrinking.

“At least take this with you then for later.” Not accepting argument, he
pressed the box into Malfoy’s chest who reluctantly took it. 
With nothing else to do they were ready to leave, but Harry didn’t want to end
their time together yet. He remembered the book he’d bought before.

“I’ve gotten a copy of ‘Gertie Keddle’s Diaries’. You know, the one
who wrote about her neighbours playing a game that would later develop into
quidditch. Would you like to borrow it sometime?”

Malfoy had looked confused at first and then mildly interested. “If you’re
willing to lend it…”

Harry nodded, despite not having read it himself yet and promising Ron to lend
it to him too, he was willing to give it to the blond immediately if it just
meant they would talk a little longer. But Malfoy had nodded in acceptance as
well and was already walking to the door with the intent to get back to the
Slytherin dorms. Harry thought furiously to keep him from leaving.      

“Malfoy?”

The Slytherin turned back to him; hand on the door handle and raising a
questioning eyebrow.

“Why do you not fly anymore?”

Harry held his breath after the question. He wanted him to stay but the desire
to know also was burning inside him. In the back of his mind he wondered if
Hermione felt like that all the time.
His green eyes were practically glued to Malfoy’s lips when the blond opened
his mouth.

“… see you in class Potter.”

And just like that he was gone.



                          Kapitel 18: December, 18th
                          --------------------------


The reminder of yesterday hasn’t been as exciting as the morning had been.
At lunch he met his friends minus Luna again who instantly questioned him about
his sudden departure during breakfast. Harry shocked them all into silence for a
few seconds by stating he had made peace with Draco Malfoy and helped him out
with defence in return for his help with potions. 
Well all except for Hermione who smiled brightly at him with a “Good for you,
Harry.”

The afternoon was spend with suffering through homework, though it wasn’t
nearly as much for Harry as in the previous week and so they had plenty of time
for the rest of the day to continue their conversation from breakfast.
Harry confessed to Hermione and Ron that he’d like to go somewhere on
Christmas Eve, they shouldn’t worry and it wouldn’t take long. After his two
best friends needled him enough they got out of him where exactly he was off to
and the three of them agreed to go together.

When Harry lay down for the night, he once again had the problem of his mind not
wanting to shut down. During the day he had ample distraction, but now, alone
with his thoughts again they always seemed to spiral back to one specific thing
and every time Harry closed his eyes he saw a pair of molten silver ones. 
Minutes fluently turned into hours as the mornings events played over and over
in his head, accompanied by the fluttering in his stomach. Before he knew it
half the night was gone and Harry still hadn’t figured out what to do about
his reactions to Malfoy’s smile, his laugh, his teasing…


Harry didn’t remember finally drifting off, but he must have since the next
thing he knew was the early harsh light of a winter day stinging his eyes as he
woke up.
After that fact registered in his brain he bolted upright, frantically felt for
his glasses and pushed them on his nose as he found them. Then he grabbed his
wristwatch and cursed; class was about to start in less than ten minutes.

He shot out of bed, feeling dizzy from lack of sleep and the sudden drop of
blood to his feet, but stumbled through the room while hastily getting dressed.
After getting in his robe and making sure his wand was on him Harry grabbed his
tie and ran downstairs, ignoring the yells of the fat lady as he slammed her
portrait open and fastened the tie around his neck with a plain knot before
stuffing it under his woollen jumper as he ran.

Skidding to a halt in front of the closed door of potions classroom tried to
catch his breath for two seconds, regretting already to have pulled on the
jumper and school robes since the sprint left him hot and sweating, before he
carefully pulled the door open and stepped inside.
The whole class plus Slughorn, who stood already at the front, turned to stare
at him.

“Sorry Professor…” He started, still sounding rather out of breath.
“I-”

But the round man with the walrus moustache interrupted him before he could say
anything else. “Ah, good morning Harry! No need to worry I was just about to
start when you came in, you didn’t miss anything important. If you would just
take your seat please.”

Harry nodded, walked towards Malfoy’s table and slid into the seat next to
him. The blond gave him a look.

“Morning.” Harry whispered, with a short and sheepish grin. In return he
received a roll of the silver eyes, but it was accompanied by a tiny smile on
the man’s lips.

“As I was saying” Slughorn continued. “Your Antidotes will be ready by
next week, but I believe none of you would like to come back on Christmas
morning to finish these. I’m going to put a static charm on them and we’ll
continue with it after the holidays. Now”

He clapped his chubby hands and rubbed them against each other in a
business-like manner.

“First I’m going to return you graded essays. Since you got off without
homework on Friday, I’m afraid I have to give something for you to do over the
break.” 
He received collective groans form the class as he flicked his wand and the
graded papers lifted from his desk and spread out to the students they belonged
to.

“I know, I know. But look at the good side; it’s going to be the last time
you’ll get homework over Christmas!” Slughorn received some weak smiles from
a few students, but the majority of the class apparently thought this neither
good nor funny.

The professor spelled some questions on the board and instructed them to jot
them down and answer them in detail in a six feet essay. The class groaned
louder this time, but still moved to get parchments and quills out and Harry
froze as he turned to his side.

“Bollocks.”

Apparently, in his desperate need to get to class on time, he’d completely
forgotten to take his bag along.
Harry sat up again and caught sight of Malfoy looking at him, but the blond
quickly looked away when their eyes met, turning to his own bag. The ravenette
sighed, before leaning closer towards the Slytherin and speaking in a low
voice.

“Malfoy… I left my bag in the tower, could I borrow a quill and some
parch-…?”

Before Harry could finish his request the blond turned around again and held out
parchment with a green feather on top. The same Slytherin-green feather quill
that had been drenched in ink two weeks ago.

“Oh.” Harry had expected the blond to deny his plea, or at least be more
difficult about it. “Thank you.” He took the offered objects gratefully and
the blond also pushed a small pot of ink over to him.

“Whatever. Keep it for the rest of the day. You can return it some time when
you don’t forget to wear your head.” The exasperated tone of his voice
clearly told Harry what Malfoy thought about him being so unorganized.

A genuinely happy smile stretched Harry’s lips, though it turned sheepish once
more when Malfoy shot him a harmless glare. “Sure thing.”

Harry dipped the tip of the feather into the ink and started to write.




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