Nine Days Till Christmas

DAY SEVEN: December 22^nd

Step 20: Learn something new

Dungeon hallway, 9:28 AM

Harry stood outside the Potions classroom, clutching the strap to his book bag in one hand, the sample vial of his potion project in the other. His feet seemed to be melded to the floor. The door is right there, you idiot, just go in! his mind urged, but Harry just stared at the handle. He must be the last person still outside the room, he thought, and that only made it worse. He'd watched his classmates file past him alone and in groups, all lugging various containers full of oddly colored mixtures. Harry was starting to think he should not have waited to go in. Maybe it would have been better to let Snape yell at him earlier when the entire seventh year Potions class had not been there to witness it. But it was too late for that anyway, and besides, knowing Snape, he would not have properly humiliated Harry until there was a fair crowd. The man could be so damned vindictive.

Harry had seen Draco enter the classroom just as he came around the hallway corner. The Slytherin looked a little worn out, his eyes smudged underneath with faint shadows. It made Harry wonder if he had judged incorrectly when he thought Draco had gotten a huge jumpstart on his project. But his concern for the other boy faded in the face of his own nervousness.

Well. There was nothing else for it. He had to go in eventually, or risk being docked even more points by the perpetually irritable Potions professor. And, he reasoned, he'd done a good job with his project. An excellent job. It had turned out just like the book said it would, down to the precise self-sustained temperature of the liquid. If nothing else, he had a right to be proud of his work. Snape couldn't deny it, no matter what else he might do. Harry took a deep breath, clutched his sample vial firmly in his hand, and pushed the door open.

The class was murmuring, rustling, and he made his way quickly to his regular seat next to Ron and Hermione's table. He did not look up at the teacher's desk, but he could tell by the noise level that Snape had not yet arrived. Harry sat down and set his potion atop his desk, then hunched down to wait. Precious few minutes of pride were left to him. At least it was the last day of classes for two weeks and he could wallow in his humiliation in the comfort of his own room with his own friends teasing him.

He glanced over at Draco and found the Slytherin sitting straight and tall in his chair, looking calmly toward the front of the room. Blaise Zabini sat next to him, and Harry cringed inwardly at the frown on the boy's angular face. But Blaise was not really frowning at him. Harry was perplexed to see the uneasy look turned on Draco instead. Blaise looked vaguely unhappy. Confused and uncertain. He kept darting his eyes back and forth from Harry to Draco.

Harry'd expected some sort of angry exclamation from Zabini, or maybe just a fierce glare for wasting his time the night before. But there was nothing like that. He didn't have much time to ponder over this, however; the door to the storeroom banged open and Snape stalked in.

"Your projects, class. On my desk this instant."

Several students walked theirs to the front of the room; the more advanced wand users, Hermione included, levitated their samples and essays neatly to the professor's desktop. Hermione gave Harry a small smile and flicked her wand, magically lifting his vial and parchment out of his hands and directing them across the room. Snape watched the proceedings and gave a long-suffering sigh. "That's quite enough wand usage in this class. If your wands are not out of my sight in five seconds, they will be confiscated and used to fuel the fires under your cauldrons."

Harry pulled his small newly scrubbed cauldron from his bag and set it on the table. His hands were trembling so violently he nearly dropped it. Why didn't Snape just get it over with? What was he waiting for? Everyone was here; there were plenty of people who could laugh at him as Snape sneered and self-righteously declared him a fool. So what was the hold up? Harry's teeth were clenched so tightly his jaw was beginning to hurt.

Finally, Snape looked over in his direction. The sour-faced man stared for a long moment, raised an eyebrow excruciatingly slowly, and walked directly toward his table. Harry took a deep breath and waited, watching Snape's lip curl as he approached. Here it was, the moment he'd been dreading. He looked up to meet the man's eyes and prepared himself.

"Mr. Potter." His name slid off Snape's tongue like liquid silver and Harry fought not to flinch. The professor eyed him disdainfully for a long silent moment. Then he turned his head away with a dismissive jerk. "Your attention to my cauldrons was... adequate. If I were you, I would make certain I read the section in the text on scouring those vessels with non-iron base metals just in case you should happen to be assigned this particular task in the future."

Harry looked at him blankly, his mouth dropping open. He furrowed his brow and tried to make sense of it. What was Snape talking about? He had just made up his mind to ask, come hell or high water, when a movement behind Snape caught his eye: Draco's hand, flicking discreetly across his desktop. Harry looked at the Slytherin curiously. Draco caught his gaze and gave him the slightest shake of his head, raising one eyebrow. As Harry watched, Blaise looked over and fixed that same confused uncertain expression on his friend before looking away again pensively.

And suddenly Harry understood. Or thought he did.

"Potter, are you paying attention?"

Harry jerked his gaze to Snape and stuttered, "I--Yes. Yes, I will be sure to look over that... section. Thank you."

Snape frowned at him bad-temperedly and whipped around, gliding away. "Textbooks to page three-hundred-and-fifty-two. Today we will be brewing a harmless form of Invisibility solution. This will count as ten percent of your midterm grade; I would advise everyone to remember that you are not on holiday yet."

Harry stared at Draco mutely and noticed the faint smile on his lips for the first time. The Slytherin nodded to him in a patient manner and turned to his text, but Harry could not tear his eyes away. He was certain that Draco Malfoy had been down in the Potions classroom around nine o'clock the previous night. Blaise was glaring at Harry rather openly now, a fact that only confirmed his suspicions. The Gryffindor looked back at the blond now removing a set of fine silver potions spoons, and something shifted in his chest. Warmth spread through him and he looked away quickly before Zabini could see the wide smile forming on his face.

* * *

Step 21: Ensure the support of friends

Gryffindor boys' dormitory, 1:22 PM

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry opened his eyes at Ron's voice, and found his best friend standing over his bed looking down with a hard expression. He blinked and sat up, searching for his glasses. "What's Malfoy?"

Ron handed him what he was looking for and crossed his arms over his narrow chest. He was grimacing in the way Harry immediately recognized as the don't-shit-me-I'll-have-my-say look. Hermione was rather good at that particular expression, but Ron gave it an entirely dangerous edge Harry had long ago learned to appreciate. "Come on, Harry. The reason you've been so bummed out lately? What has the great arse done now?"

Harry smiled and moved over so Ron could sit down. The redhead folded his lanky form onto the bed, pushing aside Harry's half-closed hangings with one hand.

"He hasn't done anything, Ron. Why?"

Ron threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "Harry, you have to toss me a lead here. Come on, we're best friends. If you want to talk about something, I'm more than willing to listen."

"Wait a minute, Ron." Harry pushed himself up to lean against the head of his bed, an amused smirk on his face. "I really don't know what you mean."

Ron frowned at him as if waiting for the punch-line, and then his eyes widened and he began to rub his forehead with his fingers. "Knew I should have had Hermione do this. Look, Harry. It's no secret that you've been in a less than stellar mood lately. I totally don't mind. Trust me, I've had my share of off-moments--"

Harry snorted, garnering a pained look from his friend. Ron sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine, laugh. Go ahead, I'm well aware that you consider that to be an understatement. I'm just saying it's okay for you to be mad about something. But..." Harry's roommate pursed his lips as if reaching a decision. "But it's not okay for you to just... keep silent. If you have to yell at me in order to talk about it, fine. I don't care, I just don't want you to keep it inside. Too many problems have come from... that."

Harry smiled gently and reached out, squeezing Ron's shoulder. "You're right. And I won't, I promise. But everything's fine."

Ron glanced down at Harry's hand on his arm and his eyes narrowed. He met his gaze once more with a frustrated look. "Alright, Harry Potter, you'd better own up this instant. I know that git's done something! You were moping around all of Sunday and half of yesterday. If he's done anything to hurt you, I swear--"

Harry cut him off with a laugh. "You'll hex his eyes from his face?"

Ron scowled and pulled back. "Actually I was planning on going after something else this time."

Harry's brows shot up. "What did you say?"

His friend shook his head. "Harry, you were a mess a couple days ago. And now suddenly you're right as rain. I don't believe it. You used to pull this stuff last year. I learned my lesson then, and so help me, you are going to tell me what's wrong, or I'll get Hermione to come up here and dose you with half a cauldron of Veritaserum. That was her project for Snape, and you know it's a perfect mixture!"

Harry shook his head. "Alright, alright! No need to go calling Hermione. You want facts, I'll give you facts. Just believe me when I say I'm not upset anymore."

"Hmph. I'll believe it when I have proof."

Harry sighed. "Ron, Draco hasn't done anything bad to me. Not for the last couple of days."

At his friend's sudden cry of 'Aha!' Harry held up a hand and hurried on. "No, no, Ron... okay, so he did ditch me unexplainably in Hogsmeade on Saturday. But we've worked it out, and there's no problem. I'm not angry anymore, really."

Ron's face was skeptical. "And yesterday?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I... well, you know I haven't been getting enough sleep."

Ron nodded. Harry continued. "Well, I was in the library with Draco... He offered to help me work on my project write-up - no, don't you pull anything weird out of that, it was perfectly harmless - and I sort of fell asleep. On the table."

He took another breath and plunged in. "I had that nightmare again."

Ron's expression melted into one of horrified concern. "Oh God, Harry, why didn't you say anything? You didn't need to go through that by yourself!"

"That's just it, I didn't. Draco helped me. Honestly, Ron, he woke me up and talked me through it... and I have to say he really helped me deal with some of the aspects of it that I hadn't paid attention to before."

"What did he want?" Ron asked, voice edged with suspicion.

"Nothing. He didn't want anything. I think it scared him just as much as it did me... if not more."

Ron hesitated, then nodded, still frowning deeply. Harry decided he could go for broke. "We had a long talk yesterday. I found out a lot about him, and he found out stuff about me, and... it was nice. I don't feel uncomfortable around him at all. He's just like us, really. A little harder to crack, but once you do... Ron, look, today, well actually last night... He did my detention for me."

Ron's eyes bulged. "Whaaaaaat?"

"Yeah. Cleaned every cauldron in Snape's room, plus he convinced Zabini to look the other way or something. Which I don't doubt he'd do. They're pretty close, I think, as close as someone can get to Draco."

"Malfoys don't scrub cauldrons!" Ron scoffed. "He had to have an ulterior motive."

Harry shook his head impatiently. "No, that's just it. I helped him yesterday. Took him to Hogsmeade--"

"Through the tunnel?"

"Yes, and--"

"With the map?"

"Yes! Now would you please just--"

"You didn't show him your Invisibility Cloak, did you??"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron! The point is, he knew I was completely swamped with the Potions project, and I told him I would have to skip my detention, there was no other way I could get the project done on time - and he must have... gone to Snape's room and done my detention for me."

"Draco Malfoy did your detention for you."

"Yes. For no other reason than that I needed help. I mean, what could he possibly stand to gain from it?"

"Other than your trust?" Ron countered.

"Well, if that's it, he's got it. He's had it for a while now. And don't think he hasn't earned it, Ron."

His friend pondered for a long moment, rubbing his neck with one hand. He kept looking up and starting to speak, but closing his mouth perplexedly again. Finally he crossed his arms fitfully and gazed at Harry, careful concern apparent on his freckled features. "I still think he could hurt you, Harry."

"Ron..."

"No, listen to me. I don't trust him. If you do, I think that's... fine. But I won't sit by and let him hurt you. If he does, he's going to have to answer to me, and I can't say I won't relish the opportunity."

Harry searched his friend's face, and then nodded slowly. Ron sighed. "Look, Harry... I didn't like this whole idea you had from the beginning. I still don't, not really. But I'm not going to sabotage it. I thought it would fail on its own, but if you think it won't... Just... look, just be careful. I don't want to see you in any more pain. I've seen enough of that to last forever."

Harry nodded again, not knowing what he could say. Ron smiled into the silence, looking Harry over as if trying to memorize him. Suddenly he leaned forward and pulled him into a swift hug. Harry blinked, then patted Ron on the back and smiled. The redhead released him and rose, the familiar cocky grin once again fluttering over his face. "Just don't expect me to invite the git to Christmas dinner or anything. I still need my days off, you know."

Harry chuckled. "Too bad he's staying here for hols."

Ron's eyes widened and he groaned. "Oh, of all the... Hermione!" He headed for the door, pulling it open and calling down the stairs as he headed for the Common Room. "Hermione, just listen to this, we're never going to have a peaceful moment..."

Harry listened as his friend's voice faded into an unintelligible murmur and smiled. Peaceful moments indeed.

* * *

Step 22: Sacrifice is necessary

Great Hall, 8:26 PM

Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable in his dress robes. For one thing, they did not exactly fit him anymore. Not that he was ripping through them that very second or anything, but it was more like a vague overall tightness around the shoulders and wrists. He kept wanting to tug at his sleeves to get them settled back where they were supposed to be instead of riding up his arms just a bit where they were not supposed to be. But at least he was more comfortable than he would be out on the dance floor. Here leaning against the wall it was just his sleeves. Out there it would be his hair, and his lack of intelligent conversation, and what he jokingly liked to call his dancing. He could already see about ten couples out on the floor that could put him to shame once a day and twice on Sundays.

Good thing it wasn't Sunday.

Harry sipped his Butterbeer and shifted to lean on the other shoulder. Really, he was just happy watching from here. Hermione and Ron were out waltzing across the floor and it made Harry smile. It was obvious that Ron was not the supreme authority on dancing either, but it was also apparent that he couldn't care less. He kept dipping and twirling Hermione until she was pink in the face and laughing too hard to support herself on her own.

That was what made Harry comfortable. Seeing his friends happy. It always had. He knew them well enough to know that this sort of carefree joy did not come easily anymore; when it did make an appearance, it sent a contagious glow through the room until Harry's spirits echoed the vibe and he felt willing to gamble his life in order to protect it.

The clincher was that he knew his two friends would drop it all in an instant - the happiness, the comfort, the laughter - if they felt he was in any way in trouble, and that did not mean just physically. The very idea made Harry a little short of breath: that he could garner such an effect from the two people closest to him. It was much better to let them have their moment, watch it, draw from it... and not get himself into an embarrassing situation - like dancing - that could bring it to an end.

His eyes left Hermione and Ron in the middle of an exaggerated salsa step - even Ron had tears of laughter in his eyes now - and floated over the crowd. Ginny and Dean dancing and conversing, Luna teaching Susan Bones a flowery ballet turn, Seamus and Lavender dancing very closely and suggestively in the corner, and... Harry stopped and blinked. Stared.

Padma Patil was with Neville, moving around in a slow circle. Her head was resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, arms wrapped tightly around him. Neville held her gently. His lips moved with words too soft for Harry to hear, and they danced slowly despite the rather chipper beat of the music. Harry felt his heart constrict and blinked again rapidly. He had not expected Padma to be here. She was so quiet now, so reclusive. Rarely talked to anyone, and often went home for the weekends. And here she was, dancing with Neville, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Harry had never had a sister, and certainly never a twin sister. He had no idea how it must feel to lose someone so close.

The war had been bad for everyone. Standing there watching Neville stroking Padma's back, Harry suddenly wondered if perhaps the people on the other side of the battle could have said the same thing. He'd never considered it before; too wrapped up in his own life, and the lives of his friends. And rightly so. But there were faces missing here, even he could not deny that. People he'd come into Hogwarts with seven years ago as a flabbergasted first year were... not there. Some had just gone to other places, but some were gone.

"Ah, Harry," said a voice. "It makes me very happy to see you have decided to join us this evening."

Harry looked up and saw the Headmaster gazing at him through his half-moon spectacles. Dumbledore had on luxurious red robes with ivy-colored trim, his snow-white beard flowing down like cotton. He smiled at Harry gently.

Harry returned the smile and pulled away from the wall to stand straight. "I just... felt like coming."

Dumbledore nodded sagely and raised his goblet to the hall itself. "It seems our dear Professor Sprout has outdone herself once again."

Harry nodded. "Yes, it took a while, but it looks great."

Their Herbology professor had brought the afternoon class inside and spent the two hours of the class directing the students as they coaxed vines and ivy up the walls and around torch sconces with their wands. Neville had taken Harry aside and showed him how to intertwine the bright red holly berries now scattered throughout the lush creepers. And Harry had to say, under the twinkling Christmas tree lights and the golden glow of the torches, the effect was lovely.

Dumbledore looked at Harry keenly. "Professor Snape has just informed me that the Potions projects he has already graded this year are tolerable, which means of course that he thinks very highly of them. I believe yours in particular caught his notice, Harry. I feel I must congratulate you on a job well done."

Harry blinked. What, had Snape sat down the second class departed and picked his potion apart immediately? It was a little much to take in, and he could only nod. Dumbledore smiled faintly, watching him.

"And how are the other elements of your life going, Harry? I trust you and your friends have been keeping busy with the less serious aspects of growing up?"

Harry peered at the Headmaster for a long moment before answering. "I'm doing alright. Lots to do this year."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, I expect there is."

"I didn't think I'd come tonight but... it is Christmas after all. I've just never really paid much attention to it before."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I have found, Harry, that sometimes doing the unexpected can have better consequences than one imagines."

Harry looked at him. The old man was smiling mysteriously, sipping from his goblet. Harry opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at something farther out in the room.

"It would seem that your friend requires your presence for something that may end up a trifle humorous."

Harry followed his gaze and saw Ginny waving to him enthusiastically. Her auburn hair was in soft curls, and she wore a forest green dress and a bright smile on her face. Behind her was the Ravenclaw Seeker, completely oblivious to the redhead's current actions. He sighed. Dumbledore made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

"I believe I will go ask Madame Hooch if she would like to dance."

The Headmaster gave him one last smile and moved away into the crowd of chattering students and teachers. Harry squared his shoulders and headed for Ginny.

"Harry! Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're here. Listen, Megan's right over there standing next to that big holly wreathe. You'd give her the Christmas present of her life if you asked her to dance."

Harry nodded, smiling weakly, and Ginny grinned so brightly the torches looked dimmer. He walked toward the shorter girl. He really didn't know her that well, just that she was a Seeker, and that she was actually quite good at the Wronski Feint when not distracted by certain other Seekers. He went up and touched her on the shoulder, smiling encouragingly.

"Hi. Megan, is it? Happy Christmas."

The girl whirled around and her blue eyes grew so large he thought they would pop free from her face. "Um... um, y- yes. Happy... Megan, yes. H-Happy Christmas."

Ginny was smiling excitedly from a few yards away. She gestured for him to go on. Harry focused on the girl in front of him. "Would you... would you like to dance?"

Megan's face went ashen and her mouth dropped open. She stuttered for a moment, then glanced around herself frantically, as if looking for someone. She stared up at Harry in bewildered terrified amazement. "M-me?"

Harry blinked and leaned closer.

"Yes. Um, are you alright?"

Megan gasped and snapped her mouth shut, backing away, tripping a little in her haste. "E-excuse me--I--" Suddenly she turned around and ran, her long skirts fluttering behind. Harry stared after her, puzzled. He turned to find Ginny standing there with an amazed expression on her face.

"Goodness... I had no idea she'd act like that! She must like you a lot more than I thought. Megan! Wait a moment..." She dashed off after the fleeing girl.

"Well, that was certainly entertaining," said a voice at his elbow. Harry turned and saw Draco standing there looking amused. Harry gaped in surprise, then smiled widely.

"What are you doing here? Thought you had so many better things to do than waltz around the dance floor for three hours."

"What, and miss all this fun?" Draco looked around, his eyebrow so high it could have leaped up into his shining hair. The Slytherin was in glistening black dress robes, hair combed carefully back from his face. He shrugged dismissively. "I just... figured it was my last one and I might as well..." He glanced at Harry, then away. When he looked back, the easy smirk was firmly in place.

"Besides, I couldn't let you have all of these adorable--" He blinked suddenly and frowned, "--hiding fourth year girls."

Harry groaned and covered his face with his hand. "Bloody hell, that was a disaster. Oh, I don't know what Ginny was thinking would happen. I can't dance at all."

Draco squinted at him interestedly. "Not even a two-step?"

"The fact that I have no idea what you're talking about should tell you all you need to know."

Draco laughed. "You know, where I grew up, this would have been unheard of."

Harry glared half-heartedly at him. "Well, now you've heard of it." He looked after Ginny and Megan and sighed. "She certainly took off fast, though. I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

"Flattered. Definitely flattered. Anyone can see you are the catch of the party. She just couldn't handle all that power."

Harry laughed. "I think I've already had about enough of this party."

Draco smirked at him mysteriously. "Oh, no. You aren't finished yet."

"What?"

The Slytherin took Harry's Butterbeer from him and set it down on the nearest table, sliding into a chair. "I bloody well just got here. Pulled these damnable robes out of the mothballs, dragged myself up from the dungeons for a detestable dance, and I am not going to sit here and endure it alone. You can leave later. For now, sit down. Show some Christmas cheer."

Harry half-laughed, half-sighed. He drew a chair out and joined Draco at the table. Maybe the night wasn't going to be as bad as he'd thought.

* * *

Step 23: Learn to relax

History of Magic classroom, 10:01 PM

"Did you see the look on her face?"

"Yes, it's really too bad. And after the Weas--after Ginny'd finally managed to convince her to brave the confines of a dance with the most sought after student in the bloody school."

"Oh, come off it, you know it was because of you, Draco. She could've handled me, but not with you sitting there smiling at her like a Cheshire cat."

Draco raised his goblet, a cocky grin on his face. "Can I help it if I'm gorgeous?"

Harry laughed. He was feeling slightly light-headed from the cider they were drinking, but it felt good to be a bit off-kilter. He'd been so tense over the last few days. And seeing Draco relax and let go more than usual was a nice surprise. They weren't drunk, certainly. Harry knew what it felt like to be drunk. The war had taught him that very quickly. But this... this was nice.

Draco sipped his cider and leaned his head back on the wall. "Nice to get out of there. I'd imagine they're still dancing."

"Most likely. Hell, Dumbledore was on his seventh partner and he didn't even look tired. I could never do that."

Draco nodded his agreement, eyes closed. They were sitting against the far wall of the History of Magic classroom. Harry'd lit a torch when they entered and it cast a flickering warmth over the Slytherin's face. Harry felt much more comfortable having taken off the top layers of his robes; he'd rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and it felt loose, less confining. Like his normal clothing. Draco had likewise discarded his top cloak. His pristine white shirt made his skin look tanned in the torchlight.

Suddenly the Slytherin's eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet. Harry watched dazedly as he walked to the middle of the room, suspended his cider in mid-air, and began spelling desks out of the way. They slid neatly and rapidly to the sides of the classroom, lining up against the walls. Draco pocketed his wand in his trousers, plucked his goblet from the air, and drank from it.

"Well, get up, Potter, I'm not standing here for my health."

Harry frowned quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

Draco sighed exasperatedly and spread his arms wide. "What does it look like? Get off your ass, no one ever learned to dance sitting on the floor like a drunk."

Harry choked on his cider. "You're going to teach me to dance?"

Draco rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Good Lord, Harry, you are such an uneducated ingrate. No one should go through life without at least knowing the waltz."

"Says the pompous rich snob."

Draco snapped his fingers. "It has its virtues. Get up."

Harry rose unsteadily to his feet, put his goblet carefully on the floor, and walked over to the Slytherin. He was unable to keep the snicker down and Draco narrowed his eyes. "Shut up, Potter, and give me your hands."

The Slytherin settled one of Harry's hands on his right shoulder and took hold of his free hand firmly. He slid one arm around Harry's waist and the Gryffindor blinked. A small sliver of sobriety snaked its way through his head and he paused momentarily to breathe. Draco Malfoy had his arm around him. Harry sighed at the warmth, the strength he could already feel in the wiry hand against his back. Draco frowned at him impatiently.

"Harry, pay attention. Now the step goes like this... yes, sort of, except you should let me lead, you prat, you've no idea what you're doing."

Harry nodded, grinning, and the loose light sensation took over again. Draco moved him around the room, counting in threes and coaching him incessantly.

"No, wait a minute, you've got your arm all crooked... Look at me, you have to stand up straight and step this way, follow me... Oh, for Salazar's sake, Harry, you're terrible!"

Harry snickered, clutching Draco's shoulder. "Only at the waltz, I assure you."

The Slytherin's grin widened, eyes gleaming. "Then how about a tango instead?"

Harry looked up. "Do you really know how to tango?"

Draco glared at him. He pulled a long face, nodded seriously and said, "No," and both of them dissolved into laughter, clutching onto each other to keep from falling. Draco finally subdued himself long enough to summon his goblet of cider dregs and say, "But I know there's dipping and dragging, and a bunch of sharp bone-snapping movements."

"And a rose," Harry said, summoning his own drink and taking a long sip. "Don't forget the rose."

Draco nodded, raising his cup in acknowledgement. "Bloody dance of love, you know. Stupidest thing in the world. My parents used to do it all the time at parties and look where the fuck it got them."

Harry looked at him, very aware that their arms were still around each other. "Maybe they were in love, Draco."

Draco snorted and banished his now-empty goblet to one of the desks. "In love? I think I know my own parents, Potter."

The Slytherin disentangled himself and walked a few feet away, hopping up to sit on one of the desks. Harry walked over and took the one next to it, folding his legs beneath him. Draco leaned back.

"Love's one of those elusive things everyone thinks they know about, but no one ever really experiences. What do they have to go on anyway? Only those stupid Muggle romance novels or the predictions of a crackpot diviner like Trelawney."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Well, she has her moments."

Draco rolled his head back on his shoulders, working the kinks out of his neck. "But usually she's just spouting bizarre predictions about you dying, or me turning evil or whatever."

"Is that what she said to you?" At Draco's nod, Harry laughed. "God, she had something for everyone, didn't she?"

Draco's lip curled. "You should thank her. Initially I just started acting nice to prove she was the fraud I always knew her to be. It was rather fun, though I think Blaise thought I was off my rocker being all polite and cheery all the time in class."

"Would've liked to have seen that, I think."

"Well, it's all yours now. Bloody behavior seems to have grown on me."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Draco, I hardly consider you polite and cheery."

Draco sighed and collapsed back on the row of desks. "Well, that's a relief."

Harry swirled his glass around, thinking. Something Draco had said... he frowned, remembering. "But you don't think love exists?"

"Oh, I think it exists. Sure, why not? Fairytales had to get it from somewhere. I just don't think I've come within a mile of it my whole life."

Harry studied him. Draco looked calm, unconcerned. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, hands cocked behind his head. "Oh, come on, surely you've seen it. Some couple somewhere."

Draco turned to look at him, a vague frown on his face. "Harry, can you honestly say you've been in love, ever?"

"Well, no... but I'm only seventeen."

Draco considered, then nodded and looked back at the ceiling. "But you've already lived through more than most people four times older than you have."

Harry bit his lip and looked into his glass. "We all have."

Draco didn't respond. The room was silent for a time. The torch guttered low, making the shadows flicker. Harry's shadow fell across Draco and the glint of the moon through the high windows bathed the Slytherin's face an eerie bluish color.

"Did you see Padma tonight?"

Draco stirred. "Patil? Yeah."

Harry nodded, subdued. Draco sighed. "Is she with Longbottom? They were together all evening."

"I honestly don't know."

Draco sat up and rested his arms on his knees. "I was with her, you know. The day Parvati died. Padma was screaming like the world was ending. I almost thought it was."

Harry chewed his fingernail. "I think this may be the first time she's done anything... with anyone else. I haven't talked to her in months."

Draco nodded. He sat there staring at his hands, and Harry felt the need to be moving. He slid off the desk and grabbed their cloaks. The other boy looked up.

"Come on, let's walk. The school's nice at night."

Draco smirked. "Go out much after curfew?"

Harry just smiled mysteriously and tossed Draco's cloak to him. The Slytherin narrowed his eyes and followed him out into the hall.

The school was silent. It was odd moving from the warmly glowing hallways to the darker deserted ones. The stones in the darkened hallways were bathed in blue light from the moon shining through the windows. They walked quietly for a time, then fell into easy chatter about what they were planning to do after school. Harry learned that Draco wanted to go into the Potions department at the Ministry. He himself was looking into Quidditch professionally, but he didn't hold out much hope for being recruited. Draco laughed at that, conjuring up more cider for both of them.

"Oh, please. With the flying you did last week? They'll jump on you."

Harry blushed. "No, I've seen the professionals. They're much better, really. Besides, I sort of want to work at the Ministry too."

"Let me guess. Auror."

Harry smiled. He took his wand out and began fiddling with it, turning it between his fingers. "Maybe. Though Moody kind of scares me. If I turn out like that, there's no way."

Draco's voice was gently condescending. "Oh, yes, I'm sure that being a complete bat and knocking one of your own eyes out are requirements for the job, Harry."

"Well, excuse me, but you didn't have to sit there in the middle of the night and learn every possible way to combat dark magic last year."

"Actually, I did. And I think he's the most psychotic human being I've ever met, other than Voldemort."

Harry agreed whole-heartedly.

They were walking down the Transfiguration hallway between the golden glow of the torches when Harry yawned deeply. He checked his watch. "Bloody hell, it's nearly eleven-thirty."

Draco smirked. "Too late for a drunk Gryffindor?"

"I'm not drunk, you prat. Just a little buzzed. I haven't been getting much sleep this past week." He shivered slightly and yawned again, then remembered something. "Draco, thank you, by the way. You didn't have to do my detention."

Draco shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It was nothing. Though I think Snape would have been a bit more admiring if he knew it was me."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, the best I could ever hope for is 'adequate'. But that's nothing new."

Draco glanced up at something above Harry, and then frowned and peered more intently. His eyes widened and he stepped back a bit. "Oh, for crying out loud..."

"What?" Harry looked up as well and blinked, then laughed shortly. "Well, well."

A tiny sprig of mistletoe dangled from the ceiling just in front of McGonagall's classroom. It had a red ribbon looped around the stem, and the ice-green leaves looked full and robust in the torch light. "Guess someone wanted to catch people coming out of class. I never noticed."

Draco was eyeing him uncertainly, not answering, and for the first time Harry realized that they were both standing directly under it. He looked at Draco, eyes wide. "Oh. Oh."

Draco shifted from foot to foot. He was frowning. "So..."

Harry studied the other boy and made a split second decision. "It's alright, there's no one here. I won't hold you to it like some people would."

Draco continued to look at him silently. He glanced up at the mistletoe and then back at Harry. Harry laughed. "It's just a stupid holiday tradition. I never held with it anyway. Kissing's overrated."

Draco let out a relieved laugh, and the tension was gone. He shrugged his shoulders. "Kissed many people, Harry?"

"Just one. And it wasn't all it's cracked up to be in my opinion."

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Trust a Gryffindor to give up after one try."

Harry shrugged sleepily. "I know what I know. Never pretended any differently."

Draco gave him a half-smile and took a breath, letting it out in a long sigh. "Alright, then I think I should say goodnight. You obviously can't hold your liquor and you're about to pass out. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry called out a parting shot to his retreating back. "Just remember you're the one who's calling it a night."

Draco glared at him and then shook his head, grinning. He went around the first corner out of sight. Harry sighed and leaned against the door of the Transfiguration classroom.

His night hadn't been a total bust after all. Far from it. He closed his eyes and smiled, picturing Draco's face. The Slytherin had been laughing nearly the whole night. Harry had never seen him in such a good mood before, and figured it had something to do with the cider. Can't hold my liquor indeed. But it had been wonderful to see, regardless if it was his presence or the alcohol's that had caused it.

The Yule Ball was probably long over by now. Harry sighed again contentedly and was pushing off the door to go back to Gryffindor tower when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see Draco come briskly back around the corner, his robes still draped over one arm. Harry quirked a smile at him and laughed curiously. When the Slytherin was a few feet away again, he shook his head in amusement. "Thought you were going to sleep."

Draco's face looked determined. "Fuck that," he said in a disjointed voice.

Harry was still processing his words when Draco slung his velvet cloak to the floor and slipped his arm around Harry's waist, pulling him against his body.

"Wait, wha--"

And then Draco was kissing him. Harry's eyes shot wide and he froze for an instant... until the Slytherin's hand came up to cup his cheek gently. Harry made a small sound at the contact. Draco's lips were soft, flavored with the spicy taste of cider. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He let his eyes fall shut and raised a hand hesitantly to Draco's shoulder, returning the kiss. It was like a signal had sounded. Draco pulled him even closer and deepened the kiss, tilting his head, and Harry locked his arms around the other boy's torso, feeling the firm strength of the muscles in his back. This was nothing like his kiss with Cho Chang. Nothing. There was so much vitality here, so much life... and so many unknowns. Draco's body felt impossibly familiar, warm against his, his lips tentative and exploratory, and Harry sighed, breathing in the fresh scent of Draco's hair and skin. His body was zinging with energy, every touch tingling, and it wasn't nearly enough, and yet it was and--

Draco ended the kiss abruptly, leaving Harry gasping and seeing spots. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. The blond was staring at him with wide eyes. He had the expression of an animal suddenly startled. Harry saw that he was breathing heavily, grey irises flicking back and forth over his own face. He looked as if he had only just realized what was happening. It was all Harry could do to think clearly, his mind still hazy from the kiss. He opened his mouth to say something, to calm him... to wipe that uncertainty from his eyes. But he never got the chance.

"Draco?" said a voice, jarring in the tense silence.

The Slytherin glanced toward the sound of his name and his face went white. Harry turned almost too quickly, struggling to keep his balance.

Blaise Zabini stood at the end of the hallway, utter surprise and bewilderment written all over his face. He looked back and forth from one of them to the other. "Draco, what...?"

Harry felt a shudder ripple through Draco's body. The blond pulled away, leaving a cold wake behind. Harry looked at the Slytherin and saw that his expression was twisted into something unrecognizable. He looked like he was going to be sick. Harry touched his arm tentatively, but the other boy didn't react. "Draco, are you--"

Suddenly Draco's gaze whipped to his. It was full of confusion and... fear. The Slytherin backed away, stumbling a bit. He glanced at Blaise again, then at Harry, and his eyes were swimming. His mouth worked for a moment, but no sound came out. The blond shuddered again and then turned and practically ran down the hall. He shoved past his housemate without a word. Blaise looked at Harry, frowning accusatorily, and then ran after Draco. "Draco, wait."

Harry took a deep breath. There wasn't enough air to fill his lungs and his head felt dull, thick. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He could still feel Draco's mouth on his, the heat of his hands on his body. Harry licked his lips and tasted cider. The torches guttered down the long hallway, and for the first time since Draco had left, Harry realized how alone he was.