Play The Game

CHAPTER FOUR

"What's wrong with it?" Draco demanded, spreading his arms as he was left alone in the snow. He flicked his scarf over his shoulder and scowled. The blond boy realized he was being watched, and his head snapped around to see Potter at the top of the steps to Perfect Petals, a bloody white rose in his hand.

Draco stared blankly at Harry, registering the rose and the blood on his hands with a jolt of panic.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped, jerking his chin up.

"I'm..." Harry looked slightly bewildered himself, as he finally registered the fact he was outside in the freezing cold snow with a bloody white rose clutched in his right hand. "I'm lost," he said quietly, chin dropping to his chest as he stepped off the step outside Perfect Petals. He walked over to Draco slowly, battered trainers crunching in the snow. He stopped in front of the boy and lifted his head, looking at him out of emerald green eyes that stood out against the pale backdrop, Harry lifted his hand up and held out the bloody rose to Draco.

"It's yours."

Draco stared at it for a while. He lifted his eyes solemnly.

"How do you know it's mine?" he asked Harry, slightly narrowing his silvery eyes.

"Because I saw you drop it," Harry said softly, still looking at Draco with his green eyes betraying his innocence.

"Fair enough," Draco shrugged. His eyes seemed magnetised to Harry's fingers, bloody as they were. Draco reached out a hand slowly for the rose, but his muscles protested and dropped his hand so that when he gripped the stem of the flower, he gripped Harry's hand. Draco started violently at the chill skin beneath his palm, but made no move to let go.

"Why have you brought it back to me, Potter?" he demanded, trying to retain some dignity.

"Because it's yours," Harry replied with a small smile, not really noticing as Draco's hand closed around his own. "It's beautiful, and destroying it would be cruel."

Draco felt a sudden rush of indignant anger at the injustice of this world, and frustration at Potter's insistence that things are beautiful and not cruel and twisted. A bead of ice formed from the dew on the rose tinkled against his hand, and he looked up through suddenly stormy eyes.

"Even the most beautiful things can wither away and die, Potter," he said coldly, lifting his hand and crushing the head of the rose in his palm.

Harry dropped his hand, eyes moving away from Draco's face. "Not if you believe. Not if you trust. Not if," he fell silent, not willing to go on. "I'm sorry that's how you think." With a shrug he turned and walked away from Draco, holding the now crushed and bloody rose, the setting making him look truly like an Ice Prince.

Draco wanted to shout that he didn't want to think that way, but it wouldn't make sense. He lifted his hand and ran his finger down his icy, bloody palm.

"Potter..."

Harry stopped with his back still to Draco and turned his head slightly to the side, breath coming over his shoulder in icy clouds. "I don't want to hear it, Malfoy. Just... leave me alone." He began to walk again, and disappeared into Perfect Petals with the tinkling of the bell above the door.

"I'll be seeing you around," Draco finished in a steaming whisper. "I guess I'm not allowed to get away from you."

Blaise was tired of waiting for Draco. For the second time today he had been left by himself while his friend ran off and got distracted by doing something else. 'Wait.. last time it was Potter..' Blaise turned sharply, robes flying out and pushed the door open, taking in what he was seeing almost immediately.

"Draco, are we going to finish shopping or what?" he asked, ignoring the crushed rose and blood, they weren't visible from the angle he was stood at anyway.

"Oh, yeah," Draco said, turning back to go into the shop.

***

Blaise and Draco had walked around the shops for a long time after Draco's encounter with Harry. Blaise had noticed the bloody rose, but tactfully decided to ignore it; if Draco wanted to explain, he would explain.

Finally, weighed down by bags of all shapes and sizes, Draco and Blaise staggered into the Slytherin Common Room which was - despite being a Hogsmeade weekend - habiting quite a few people.

Blaise proceeded to drop his bags at the foot of the green sofa near the fire and sat down, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Draco tugged a new charcoal grey shirt out of one of his bags and ripped the labels out viciously.

"You know what I hate about Potter?" he demanded loudly, throwing the shirt onto a chair and pulling another from another bag.

"Enlighten me," Blaise drawled as his hands warmed up enough to pull a midnight-blue quill out of one of his many bags.

"The fact that he's an idiot," Draco said vehemently. "And that he just invoked a family curse - a wizards' honour rite."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Invoked a family curse? But," he paused, remembering he rose, Draco's face, the blood, it all slotted into place. "Oh. So, what next?" he asked weakly.

"I don't know," Draco said with a hiss of exhaled breath. He threw himself onto his back on a sofa. "I don't know what happens. I'll ask father when I visit him."

"You're going to ask Lucius, about Potter." Blaise scratched his chin with the quill before dropping it back into one of the bags carelessly. "I don't see that going down well - at all." He sighed, "Even if you change 'Potter' to 'Love of my life' or something. It's not called a curse for nothing, right?"

"I'm going to ask father about the blood rite," Draco amended. "It's not really a curse unless you hate the person you're linked with. Anyway, I'm the heir. I'm meant to know all the rules. I can slip it in with some other things..." But it was a lot easier said than done.

"But you do hate him. Or, at least, you used to." Blaise's voice was uncertain, he hadn't really gotten to know Draco that much until the recent summer holiday, and the beginning of this year.

"So it's a curse," Draco sighed heavily, linking his hands behind his head. "He's such an idiot."

"Who crushed the rose?" Blaise asked idly, moving so his legs were spread out along the sofa, crossed at the ankle. "Would you want to break the connection with Potter?"

"I crushed it," Draco replied. "He gave me some waffle about it being too beautiful to destroy. I told him the truth," the blond boy said with a vicious sneer. "And of course I bloody would."

"You can't tell Lucius," Blaise said quietly. "Voldemort is after Potter, if word gets out that the son of one of his favourite Death Eaters' has a Wizards Bond with Potter, a curse, he would use it against Potter. Against you. It wouldn't matter to him so long as Potter dies."

"It wouldn't hurt me," Draco said mildly. "It would be the perfect way to get rid of Potter."

He sat up, looking at Blaise so fiercely that the dark-haired boy could hardly meet his eyes. "Which is why not a word will be spoken."

Blaise nodded mutely, fingering his soft robes lightly. He wondered briefly if he should say anything, but was saved as two lumbering forms wobbled into the room. Blaise barely held back the groan that threatened to come out as he saw who it was. "Hello Crabbe, Goyle."

Crabbe looked blankly at Blaise. "Yeah," he grunted.

Goyle nodded at the bags around Blaise and Draco before mumbling, "Presents?"

"No, Goyle," Draco answered with a sigh. "Just multi-packs of toilet paper and pink lipstick in bulk-form."

"But why would you want..." Crabbe stopped, confused.

"Oh," Goyle said stupidly. "Have fun." He blinked. "Wait, I didn't know you wore lipstick."

"I don't wear lipstick," Draco snapped. "Yes, they're all presents, at least half of which are for me."

"That's nice." Goyle smiled, but with his cheeks as chubby and round as they were, it was hard to tell.

"I might have remembered to get something for you," Draco answered Crabbe's slowly-forming question.

Crabbe found it hard to deal with possibilities. "But what if you didn't?" he asked, looking with a slightly animal panic at Draco.

"I already did, don't worry," Draco groaned, closing his eyes.

"He means that yes, he has got you a present," Blaise said mildly, wondering vaguely how Crabbe and Goyle had managed to pull through their O.W.Ls.

"What have I got?" Goyle asked eagerly. "Is it edib... edi... ed... can I eat it?"

Draco groaned loudly. "Yes, it's edible."

"Boys, don't trouble the Slytherin Lords," Morgana said mildly, parting the two giants to stand between them and loop an arm around the waist of each. "I'm sure they find it hard to cope with your outstanding intellect for more than three minutes at a time."

"You're telling me," Draco muttered. He flashed a wink at Morgana in total gratitude.

"What did you get for me?" she asked, tipping her head to one side.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," Draco said with a smirk.

Blaise groaned, hanging his head off the back of the sofa. He could have sworn Morgana was following them. "If you two are going to be like this again, please notify me earlier so I can leave the room."

Morgana's nose wrinkled and she frowned. "You appreciate nothing, Zabini," she said in a wounded voice, detaching herself from Crabbe and Goyle and walking away.

Blaise sighed; Morgana would probably go in a strop with him for days now. Oh well, he'd just not give her her Christmas present unless she was talking to him again.

Goyle rubbed his eyes with podgy fingers, this conversation had gone way to fast for him, and he was lost from the moment Morgana had arrived. "Is it dinner yet?"

"Yes, if you start walking now and get lost the usual amount of times, you should make it," Draco said with a tolerant smile.

"Okay, does that mean we go now?" Crabbe asked, nodding.

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed, delighted at his comprehension.

"Would you like to come with us?" Goyle asked.

Blaise brushed some hair out of his eyes, looking at Crabbe and Goyle upside down. "No, I believe we'll get there before you anyway."

Goyle looked at Blaise and took a step back; just looking at the other boy upside down was making him dizzy. "Is that a yes?"

Blaise groaned. "No."

"We'll pass. Got to wrap up your presents," Draco said with false glee, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh yes!" Blaise said, even managing a smile. "Seeing your presents would ruin the surprise."

"Surprise?" Goyle sounded interested and walked out of the Common Room, managing to not trip on his way out.

"Okay," Crabbe shrugged, following him.

Draco punched the air when they left and sat back again. "So what do you think I should do?"

"Kill them with a really big pointy stick." Blaise grinned.

"No, a blunt one. Let them suffer."

"Or poison a cupcake."

"Nice," Draco commented, nodding.

Blaise laughed, swinging his legs back onto the stone floor and sitting up properly. "If you could have anything this Christmas, what would you have?" he asked randomly as he searched through one of his bags.

"An easy life," Draco answered promptly.

"Within reason."

"Not even that, necessarily. I hate confusion and Potter."

"The feeling may be mutual." Blaise scratched his nose and coughed. "I think I'm getting a cold."

"You shouldn't have stood out in the snow so long," Draco, a boy immune to illness and anything demeaning, commented archly. "Maybe if you hadn't had your tongue down Cien's throat you'd have remembered how cold it was. Or maybe you caught something from her..." He allowed himself an exclusive smirk at his own wit and started going through his shopping bags again, picking out odd things and putting them in other bags to get it all into some semblance of order.

"Meh." Blaise waved a hand dismissively and stopped rooting around in the bags, apparently satisfied.

"I spent a lot of breath saying that!" Draco objected. "You could at least look embarrassed."

Blaise shrugged, "I don't get embarrassed often, and not over snogging a girl."

"A rather annoying girl," Draco emphasised. "I think I have to drag her out to Quidditch practice too early tomorrow."

"She'd probably be dragging you," Blaise commented, stretching his arms above his head.

"Oh, we'll see about that," Draco purred, stretching. "I can get up as early as the next man."

***

The tiny portholes of green-stained glass running along the very top of the dormitory walls were frosted with a lace-work of ice so delicate that it shamed the finest fairy-weavers. Fresh snow had lain a blanket on the grounds during the night so that all was peaceful and quiet. Sleigh bells jingled in the distant Hogsmeade and the smells of mince pies and brandy butter wafted from the chimneys of the underground kitchens. Merry fireplaces crackled in all the rooms of the castle and beautiful decorations adorned every surface.

Draco stared broodingly into the flames, the tiny shards of light reflecting from the green tinsel playing over his face. He was alone, and not happy about it. Blaise had gone home for Christmas, as had most of the others, but he had received an owl from his mother saying she was going to visit Aunt Katrina and cousin Veneficus. 'Dumped on Christmas, just like Potter,' he thought sulkily. He had no desire to touch his three bulging stockings, his tumbling piles of letters or the enormous stack of gifts at the foot of his bed, preferring instead to sulk and believe that he was completely unwanted.

With a smooth swooshing sound a golden-brown owl swooped down into the room and onto Draco's lap where it held out a leg, a roll of parchment attached and sealed with the Zabini family crest.

Draco sighed, taking the roll from the owl and peeling it open. He may as well start somewhere...

'Dear Draco ...it read...

Knowing that you most probably will be moping right now, I decided that I wouldn't leave my present at Hogwarts and have you open it with the rest of your presents as you feel unwanted.

I'll give you your present when I get back later tonight. Yes, I am coming back to Hogwarts tonight, there have been a few.. 'Complications' and both mother and father need to go away. It's already sorted with Dumbledore; I should be back by seven, latest.

Just so you know, you are

not unwanted. Trust me.

Have fun while you can and enjoy yourself; eat some Christmas dinner and for gods sake shag Potter silly already. No, seriously, try and have fun today. After all, it is Christmas.

-Blaise

'

Draco's mouth lifted with a reluctant smile as he turned over the page to write a brief reply.

'Blaise

I'll save some cake for you, and promise to wait to open my presents. I should perhaps inform you that you also have a sizeable stack awaiting your return.

~Draco M.

'

He flicked his wand at a stocking bulging with chocolate, and tucked in as he read through the rest of his letters.

***

On the other side of the school, in a suitably more red and gold boys' dorm, filled to the brim with students of all shape, size and gender Harry Potter was opening his Christmas presents.

"Hey Ron?" He called over the chatter and noise which filled the room, "Thanks!"

"You missed one!" Ron yelled, hurling a brown-wrapped parcel across the room. "And you're welcome!"

Seamus ducked, scooting across the floor and away from the flying parcels. He came to a halt next to Dean with a grin, wearing a tinsel 'crown' "Happy Christmas," he said happily, handing a dark blue parcel to his friend.

Harry laughed, plucking the parcel out of the air. He dropped it into his lap and pushed his glasses up his nose, searching for a label or note to see who it was from. Finding none, he opened the package slowly, careful not to rip the note that was probably inside. A small green leather case fell out, followed by a small note which went unnoticed as Harry picked up the case for closer inspection. It was amazingly smooth and soft, and very expensive. He dusted his hands off on his pyjamas and flicked the small silver button on the front, opening the case to reveal a startling silver watch.

The note read:

'Mr. Harry Potter

Though I am doubtless of your considerable intelligence, I should tell you that this watch is not just your ordinary Muggle time-keeping item. It will hold everything you need to know - an alarm, lesson plans, time to eat, dates and meetings and sometimes matters of the heart. All these, it can tell you when it's time. I hope it serves you well.' It was unsigned.

Harry picked up the note distractedly, scanning through it quickly, a smile appearing his lips. 'Dumbledore.'

"Thanks mate," Dean grinned, thrusting a plastic carrier bag in Seamus' hands. He ripped the paper off his package and beamed. "Hey Harry, what have you got there?"

Harry showed him the watch, not really paying attention. Ginny was lay on his bed, head up on her arms and fire red hair down, she blushed slightly as she saw him and dropped a parcel on his head. "Harry Christmas, Harry."

Ron roared with laughter, pointing at Ginny. "Harry Christmas... That's a cracker. Gettit? Cracker!"

Dean looked flatly at Ron, raised his eyebrow to Seamus and shook his head.

Seamus snickered, turning his head away to unwrap his present off Dean. Ginny flushed bright red, burying her head in the covers. Maybe she wasn't as over Harry as she had first thought. "Go away Ron," she mumbled into the cover. Snapping the watch on his wrist Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. "You sound like Fred and George."

"All in one?" Ron asked with a grin. "Who's the watch from?" he asked, looking at the exquisite item with curiosity.

"No idea." Harry rubbed the glass over the hands fondly, examining the watch closer. An excited yell from the other side of the room their attention as Seamus tackled Dean, shouting something along the lines of: "YOU GOT ME ONE! YOU DID IT! YOU GOT IT! WOW! YOU'RE THE BEST!"

Ron raised an eyebrow critically, murmuring, "Okay," and returning his attention to Harry's watch. "An admirer?"

"I know I'm the best!" Dean beamed, ducking before his head smashed a vase. "Uh oh, too late," he added, as Seamus' foot went right through the pottery.

"You're the best alright!" Seamus yelled, beaming with happiness. So happy in fact, that he didn't notice his foot going through the vase. "I thought all the Ireland Vs. New Zealand tickets were sold out!" He exclaimed, sitting on Dean's chest and hugging the tickets in his arms.

Harry blinked and let out a small laugh before returning to his talk with Ron. "An admirer? Doubt it. From the way the note is written it sounds like Dumbledore."

"They're all gone now," Dean grinned. "I got the last two on the PLANET." He coughed, finding it hard to breathe.

"Why would Dumbledore send you a watch?" Ron asked curiously. "It seems a little fashionable for the dude in the dress."

Harry shrugged and passed Ron the note, still fondly rubbing the glass on it. "See for yourself."

"It doesn't look like his handwriting, either," Ron said thoughtfully, as though he was a great expert on Headmaster Handwriting. "Though I swear I've seen it before..."

"I'll ask him at dinner then," Harry said, as if closing the matter. He folded it and put it into the pocket of his pyjama top, making a mental note to remember it was there.

Seamus, still sat on Dean's chest, glanced over at Ron and Harry. "Has Harry got a secret admirer?" he called.

"I think so," Ron replied. "He thinks it's Dumbledore.... Wait, that sounded wrong."

Dean howled with laughter, heaving Seamus off his chest and sitting up. "Dumbledore's after Harry?"

"Baaaaad mental place," Ron rebuked Dean, covering his ears and screwing his eyes shut.

Seamus started laughing loudly and collapsed against his bed as Harry starting blushing madly, glasses slipping down his nose.

"Maybe now's a good time to get dressed," he said hurriedly as he pushed up off the floor and dropped the green watch case to the ground, fleeing into the bathroom.

Harry shut the door firmly behind him, closing off his connection with the dormitory where the rest of the boys were still laughing. Letting out a soft exhale, he leaned back against the door and shut his eyes. 'Why me? Why do I have to get the present with the mysterious note? Why do I have to have a secret admirer?'

A small part of him hoped feebly that maybe the note was off Draco, but he knew that there was a very small chance of that happening. Since the incident with the bloody rose, Harry and Draco had barely seen each other, what with Quidditch practices and Occlumency, Harry hardly had any spare time. Why was he even thinking about his arch-nemesis while his friends laughed and joked happily back in there?

Lifting his head just so he could let it fall back against the door with a dull, lifeless thump, Harry opened his pained green eyes and sighed. "Idiot," he whispered to himself.

Seamus coughed, out of breath from laughing so hard. He tried to imagine Dumbledore writing a love letter to Harry and nearly keeled over laughing again.

Ron snatched the note the moment Harry left the room. "For some reason, it makes me think of Potions," he snapped distastefully. This term was not good; Ron was sat next to Malfoy in one of two lessons. "I hope it wasn't Snape!"

"Oh hell me too," Dean agreed fervently,

Seamus started coughing again and collapsed against his bed. "That's just scary," he added. "I mean, Snape's so greasy, if you tried to kiss him he'd like... slide right off."

"Aww, NO!" Ron yelled, pulling his pillow over his head. Dean was laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe. He took the note.

"I bet it's Pansy Parkinson," he said, nodding righteously.

Seamus took a deep breath, puffing his face out in an obvious impersonation of Pansy Parkinson. "Oh Harry my hero!" he warbled, slightly red in the face.

Dean rolled onto his back, kicking his legs in hysteric laughter.

"The poor sod," Ron murmured. Somehow, he didn't find it that funny.

"Leave Harry alone!" Ginny exclaimed from her place on Harry's bed after finally getting over her laughter.

"Oh, push off," Dean grinned, gripping the edge of the bed for support. "It's funny!"

Ron nodded blankly, trying to force a smile from his frown of confusion. He recognized that writing.

"Oh, what are you doing, Weasel?" Malfoy drawled in exasperation, snatching the mashed caterpillar livers from Ron's bowl with a spoon and adding horsefly bile carefully with a lethally thin pipette.

"I was doing fine!" Ron protested. Draco gave him a withering look and grabbed a scrap of parchment, writing out the recipe in great detail before returning to his task....

Ron leapt to his feet and began throwing aside wrapping paper, trying to find his trunk.

A stray piece of wrapping paper landed on Seamus' head and he frowned at the sudden darkness before pulling it off his head and glancing around the room to see who had thrown it. "Ron, are you ok?"

"No, Seamus, not at all..." Ron called back, hurling socks aside as he threw back the lid of his trunk and delved into it deeply.

Ginny swung her pale legs over the side of the bed and stood up, tying her hair up with a stray piece of tinsel. She picked up her pile of presents and staggered to the door. "I'm going to drop these off and get changed, I'll see you all at the table!" With that she was gone; the fluffy white rabbit tail on the back of her pyjamas the last thing to disappear through the door.

Seamus stood up and walked over to Ron. He tried to peer over his shoulder, but found he couldn't, with Ron having shot up even more over the summer. "What's up?"

"I think I recognize the handwriting, and I don't like it," Ron hissed, scrabbling through stacks of parchment at the bottom of his case for the potions work.

Seamus shrugged, turning away from Ron to face Dean and mouthing 'I think someone's jealous'. He grinned and bounced over to his own trunk.

Dean nodded solemnly. He puffed out his cheeks and mouthed - with difficulty - "I love you, really, Ron!"

Still Ron dug feverishly. Eventually, he pulled out a strip of parchment that was spotted with lime green bile. The spidery, affected handwriting was incredibly similar to the note he held crushed in his palm. 'Not Draco,' he pleaded silently. 'Not Malfoy.'

Cautiously, Harry's head peeked around the door to the bathroom. "Is it safe to come back in?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. Ron just stared at Harry open-mouthed.

Relief flooded Harry's face as he wandered the room. He paused for a second as he caught the look on Ron's face. "What? Do I have some toothpaste on my chin?" he asked, rubbing it quickly.

"Not that," Dean said darkly, glancing at Ron. "I think he's found your admirer."

"You... have?"

Ron just looked between the two notes and Harry. Dean sighed loudly and peered over his arm.

"Potions ingredients? Big whoop." He nodded to Seamus. "He's flipped," Dean confirmed.

"Yup," Seamus replied, shaking his head. "Nothing we could do."

"Harry," Ron breathed. "I think it's from Malfoy."

"...He's definitely flipped," Seamus confirmed, striding forward and plucking the potions ingredients note out or Ron's hand and throwing it over his shoulder. "Now Ron, being an investigator may sound fun, but you're not very good, ok?"

Placing his hands on Ron's shoulders he steered him toward the door. "Yes yes, you think you know, but you forgot the basic rule of all mystery stories: the House Elf always did it."

"Seamus!" Ron snapped angrily, whipping the boy's hands away with a highly ineffective sweep of his arm. "I'm not kidding! Malfoy wrote this down for me in potions last week. Look!" He thrust the two pieces of paper in Seamus' face.

Dean sidled behind his friend and looked at them closely. "He has a point, actually..."

Seamus blinked and took the notes in one hand, scratching his chin. "Well..."

Harry coughed loudly and snatched the notes off Seamus. "Why would Malfoy send me anything?" he asked calmly, ripping the notes down the centre and letting them fall to the ground.

Ron almost exploded. "WHY DO NONE OF YOU PAY THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION TO ANYTHING I SAY?!" he yelled, storming out and slamming the door so hard that icicles fell from the window ledge outside.

Seamus blinked. "Whoa." He turned to Dean to say something but was cut off by Harry, "drop it, Seamus."

Dean picked up the shredded bits of paper. "You pricks," he spat to Harry and Seamus. "He's bloody right and all." He cast them a reproving glare and followed Ron out.

Harry scowled. 'I know that. Maybe I just don't want to admit it.' He glared at the floor and stormed out after Dean and Ron, deciding to go and see Ginny to calm down.

Seamus, left alone in the dormitories spread his arms wide with a highly offended look on his face. "IT'S BLOODY CHRISTMAS!" he yelled before kicking the floor, stubbing toe. "Gits." He hobbled over to his bed and set about getting dressed.

Draco thought it was incredible that it should be this cold *inside* the school, as he made his way up the labyrinth of corridors from the dungeons. He snuggled into the protective hood of his new black cloak lined with green silk and decorated with an elaborate silver-embroidered monogram on the chest. He lifted his hand to examine it again, pulling off the glove. On his little finger was a silver Malfoy signet ring that his father had arranged to have sent to him.

'You are my only son and heir, and this is your right.'

Draco looked at the entwined serpents and smirked. His link to money secured, he pulled his leather gloves back on and walked into the entrance hall.

Harry sighed, wrapped up in the invisibility cloak, hidden completely from view. He needed to get away from the Gryffindor tower, from the cheerful happiness, from the tension between Dean, Seamus, Ron and himself, from the homework he had neglected to do. The invisibility cloak showed the only safe passage out of the tower and he had taken it without hesitation.

He'd been walking aimlessly for a while now, cursing himself for not bringing the Marauders Map with him, to find a nice quiet place where he could think alone by himself.

It was nearing midnight as he wandered down the staircase to the Entrance Hall, not paying attention to where he was going. If anyone caught him out here he would most certainly be getting in trouble, Christmas or no Christmas.

Draco whistled quietly to himself as he crossed the hall at a brisk stride, making for the doors. At this time of night, he wouldn't be caught heading off to Hogsmeade to meet Blaise at the station. He had received an owl just then from Blaise, asking him to come to the station. Draco had already waited long enough, having only opened the presents from his father and left the rest until he and Blaise could open them together. He gave a load gasp as he crashed into an apparently solid patch of air.

'Dammit' Harry's unfocused eyes slipped back into focus, he reached a hand up to straighten the glasses that were not there. For once, Harry had managed to do something without the Wizarding World knowing, he had gotten contacts. Tonight was a test run. He stopped, and blinked, looking through the invisibility cloak to see who had walked into him.

"Malfoy?" he hissed angrily, then cursed himself. 'Way to give yourself away, Boy Wonder'.

Draco jumped, casting about him with narrowed eyes.

"Potter?" he demanded furiously. "I knew you had a cloak. Where are you?" He did not wish to demean himself by flailing his arms, but it was so tempting.

"You knew did you?" Harry asked with a sigh, folding his arms across his chest. He could keep this up all night, hiding while Malfoy looked like he was talking-to thin air.

Draco, aware that he was being humiliated, closed his eyes. If he could follow Potter's voice long enough, he'd be able to whip that cloak right off him. To hide this gesture, he tipped his head back.

"Since I saw your head in Hogsmeade," he said. "It was kind of obvious."

"So I have a cloak," Harry replied, taking six steps backwards and two across. "It's nothing big." A pause. "Why are you out here?" he asked curiously.

Draco beamed on sudden inspiration. He whipped out his wand and muttered, "Accio Potter's Invisibility Cloak." The silvery fabric slithered away, revealing Harry, and settled across Draco's hands.

"I'm meeting Blaise at the station," he answered with a smirk.

Harry paused as the sudden jet of cold air hit him, his invisibility cloak flying away. He reached out to grab it but was no match for the spell, fingertips just brushing the end,

Harry closed his eyes. "Fine. We talk like this then." He walked over to Draco and stood a metre away, dressed in a baggy red jumper and black pants, a robe hurriedly pulled over him and no sign of the tell-tale glasses.

"Couldn't face Christmas alone?" he asked Draco, raising an eyebrow.

Draco couldn't answer for a while. He stared at Harry's bottle green eyes, magnified by the contacts but without the thick lenses of his glasses. The boy had been standing way away from where Draco had expected, but now he was a lot closer than Draco would have stood to him, had it been the other way around.

"Huh? No, Blaise had to come back because... Well, Blaise had to come back."

"I'm sure." Harry reached a hand out for his invisibility cloak. "I need to get back."

"I'm sure you do," Draco smirked, moving the cloak out of reach. "*I*, however, need to get all the way to Hogsmeade. I think I might borrow this."

"You won't be using my cloak. It's my fathers and Dumbledore knows it's mine. Give it back, Malfoy," he said tiredly.

"No," Draco said with a smile. He swung the cloak around himself and moved on silent, Italian soles toward the side-passage, gripping the cloak tightly to stop Potter from using his own trick. The scent of the Gryffindor enveloped him and he found it hard to breathe.

"It's mine," Harry replied, sounding for all the world like a child who didn't have his toy and not a 16year old boy who was tired and wanted to sleep.

He stepped toward Draco, reaching out a hand to curl around the soft fabric. "Give it back."

Draco was moving the cloak away when he heard a mewing and distant voices. He swore softly and whipped the cloak up, hooking Potter in with his left hand and dropping the cloak over them both, moving into the shadows. They were both too tall and too well-honed from Quidditch to stand at a comfortable distance without showing their feet, so they both - on instinct - moved in to stand so close that Draco could smell the grassy scent of Potter's hair and clothes and feel his heartbeat through his shirt.

Harry dropped his head onto Draco's shoulder, cursing inwardly even more that he had not brought the Marauders Map with him. He could probably have prevented this, but, as he closed his eyes, listening as intently as Filch walked closer to them he became more aware that he was practically hugging the Slytherin Prince. If Harry were to think about this meeting later, he would blush at the mere thought.

"Did you hear that, pet?" Filch enquired, presumably of his cat. "Naughty students out late for kissies without ol' Filchy noticing. Think they can slip past me, do they?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat at the notion of being out at night with Potter for that purpose. The pressure of the boy's head on his shoulder made him want to squirm away, but he stuck fast, holding onto the fabric of his cloak with both hands.

Harry tried to steady his breathing as Mrs. Norris ambled over to them, sniffing the floor. He looped an arm around Draco's waist and pulled him backwards slightly as Mrs. Norris' tail suddenly whipped out as she turned and bounced back to Filch.

Draco nearly had a heart attack - never mind skipping beats - as Potter's arm lingered around his waist. The Gryffindor's raven-black hair stroked Draco's neck and he resisted the urge to rest his cheek against it.

"Do we move now?" he breathed.

Harry shook his head. "Filch," he whispered quietly, breath hitting Draco's neck.

Goosebumps rippled down Draco's side. "Forgive me if I haven't done this before," he retorted in a sharp whisper.

Harry laughed slightly as he tried to fight the blush threatening to appear.

"Shh!" Draco admonished him, turning his head sharply. He froze as his nose was pressing against Harry's. He stared at him, lips parted.

Harry blinked slowly, watching Draco with a kind of amused curiosity. "Filch is gone," he said quietly, not wanting to break the moment they were in.

Draco shook his head ever so slightly, gazing at Harry through half-lidded eyes. "He's here until I'm done," he breathed.

"Oh." Harry continued to watch Draco, his free hand playing with the fabric of the invisibility cloak.

Draco's vision wavered. He realized that he had been gripping Harry's shirt in his left hand and not his cloak. He dropped it as though burned.

"Potter," he whispered.

"Malfoy," Harry replied the formality. "Tell me, did you mean what you said in Hogsmeade?"

"That beautiful things wither and die? Yes," Draco said honestly. "You'll learn that soon, if you haven't already." He shifted nervously, moving his head back slightly so that they were not quite touching. "The blood on the rose... you touched it, right?"

Harry's gaze dropped. "Yes. Are you going to tell me that I'll wither and die soon because of that too?" He held onto the cloak firmly and pulled it off swiftly, wrapping it around his arm.

"No," Draco said with a sigh. "It means that our hatred has been screwed with." His eyes raked Harry's face. "And despite that you're the most beautiful thing here; it is not necessarily you that will die. Either we make up, or one or both of us dies."

Harry looked away, arm still comfortably resting around Draco's waist. "I can't live while Voldemort does. Either he dies or I die," he said bitterly.

"Well then we're best off if you just die now," Draco smiled. This was not news to him. "Po... Harry?"

"It's death, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. "I don't want to die."

"Nor do I, particularly," Draco said, leaning back against the wall, but arching his back so as not to crush Potter's arm. "But with these old texts, 'death' is a very loose translation..." He stopped. "Want to be friends instead?"

Draco wondered if Harry knew what it had cost him to say that; wondered if Harry could tell how fast his heart was beating just then.

"You offered me your friendship 5 years ago," Harry replied as he turned back to Draco and leaned his forehead on the small boy's distractedly. The combined butterbeer and lack of sleep from today were getting to him.

"What makes you think I've changed my answer?"

"Because this time it's life or death," Draco breathed. "Because this time, I really mean it." Because this time I'm in love with you. But he couldn't say that aloud

"I don't know." And he didn't. Harry stepped back from Draco and took his invisibility cloak from his arm. He paused, unsure of what to do then lifted the hand with the watch. "Thanks," he said slowly before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Draco's forehead. "Merry Christmas."

With that, the invisibility cloak was over his head and he was gone, back to the Gryffindor Tower.