No Home for the Holidays - Part 5 (H/D, PG-13)

[sesheta66]

Title: No Home for the Holidays - part 5
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 3600
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco, others (eventual H/D)
Summary: Persistence pays off.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

Challenges: Written for the following third week of Christmas prompts:
awdt Christmas Quickies: #15 - wrapping presents; #16 - re-gifting; #17 - the naughty/nice list; #18 - berry wreath; #19 - carol singing.
dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge: Christmas Day; Elves; Ivy; Holly; Wrapping; Mistletoe; Angels.
slythindor100 Special Holiday Challenge:
#15 - Christmas cracker; #19 - dining table set for Christmas dinner; #20 - Christmas pudding; #21 - gingerbread house. See pictures here.
adventdrabbles on IJ: #15 - chestnuts; #16 - fireplace mantel; #17 - Christmas carols; #18 - plum pudding; #20 - Christmas cracker; #21 - reindeer.

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Click here to start at the beginning.


No Home for the Holidays - Part 5


Impedimenta! The spell hit Harry square in the chest, and he flew back. By the time he recovered, it was too late. Malfoy had already entered Slytherin. Harry, knowing where on the wall the entrance was, banged on it, calling for Malfoy to come out, until his voice was hoarse. Then he sat down.

After half an hour or so of sitting there waiting, he gave up and went back to his own dorm. At first he'd been wondering what he'd done wrong this time, but as he replayed the words of their conversation, he caught up with Malfoy's thought process pretty quickly. He'd thought that Harry hadn't been genuine with his compliments on his flying, and that he'd just said it to win the game.

Of course, they hadn't agreed to play any game before that, so it made no sense. But this was Malfoy. The two of them had never got on, had always been rivals, and they had no reason to trust each other. Plus Malfoy was a Slytherin, and Harry imagined that he was used to manipulation.

Harry grabbed his map and a book - wouldn't Hermione be impressed with that? - and returned to Slytherin to wait. He thought about how things had felt just before he'd made that stupid remark. He really had only been joking with Malfoy; it had felt natural. But in hindsight, perhaps their friendship - it had almost felt like they were friends, for a brief moment there - was too tentative for teasing. Whatever the case, Harry wasn't letting it go just like that, because of a misunderstanding.

He recalled the way Malfoy's face looked when Harry had told him how great he thought his flying was, and Harry wanted to see that look again. His features had softened somehow, and the pointy face looked less sharp, more angular. And very attractive.

Pushing away that thought for the time being, Harry sat down outside the dungeon entrance, draped his cloak over himself, and spread out the map. Malfoy was still inside and not moving. Harry glanced at his watch; it was still an hour until dinner. Sighing, he pulled out his book and settled in for a potentially long wait.

An hour passed. Malfoy still hadn't moved. Harry was getting chilled sitting on the stone floor, and had to cast a warming charm.

Another hour passed, and Harry's stomach began to protest. His neck and back were aching, and he wondered if his arse was actually numb or just felt like that because it was against the hard floor. Realising his own stupidity, he conjured a large cushion, cast a warming charm on that, and sat down. Much better.

So pleased with himself, Harry almost missed Malfoy's dot begin to move around. He stood up and banished the cushion. He sent his book back to his dorm and attempted to get the blood flowing back to his legs. His arse was, indeed, numb.

The door opened, and Malfoy's face peeked out. Harry stood completely still, holding his breath, careful not to move the map. When Malfoy seemed confident the coast was clear, he left the common room.

"Accio Malfoy's wand! Incarcerous! Silencio!"

~*~*~

Fuck! Fuck Potter and his stubbornness! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Draco stood just outside the Slytherin dungeon, wandless, voiceless, and bound with ropes. If he weren't so livid, he might have been scared. He communicated his anger with a glare, since he couldn't do much else.

"That was for the curse you shot at me earlier," Potter said haughtily. Idiot. "I took your wand because I don't want a repeat of that. I tied you up so that you'll stay and hear me out. And I silenced you because … well, because you just never shut up."

What? What does he mean I never shut up? Ooooh, if I could only talk, I'd give him a piece of my mind. Stupid idiot. Thinks he's all Slytherin by manipulating me out on the pitch. Complimenting my flying. I should have known better. But no … I somehow manage to believe all the hype about the Golden Boy. Everyone saying how bloody perfect and good he is, when I knew better. I've known all along. He's no better than -- What the hell is he doing? Is he laughing at me? He's laughing at me! How dare he laugh at me!

"Are you done yet?" Potter asked.

What? He kept laughing, then walked closer to Draco, invading his personal space. Does he have no manners? No sense of appropriate behaviour? Boundaries, Potter! Get away from me!

"Apparently not," Potter said. Gah! He was infuriating!

"Do let me know when you're done your tirade," Potter continued with a chuckle. "I can almost hear you cursing me, even with the Silencio charm in place. When you're finished, and you're ready to listen, I'll say what I have to say. Then I'll release you."

Draco glared at him. Potter was looking at Draco with those stupid green eyes that were practically laughing, and a stupid smirk on his face. Draco wondered briefly if Potter had actually sat outside the dungeon that whole time. It had to have been three hours. Stupid, stubborn Gryffindor. Draco just knew Potter wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted. He didn't trust the git, but what choice did Draco have? He rolled his eyes, then nodded.

"Excellent!" Potter rubbed his hands together, as though he'd just received the best Christmas present ever. It sure didn't take much to please him. Draco cut off his thought process right there, as certain parts of his body seemed eager to consider what they might do in order to please the Chosen One.

"First, I want to say that you're an idiot."

And we're off to a fine start, Draco thought. He glared at Potter, because he couldn't do anything else. Potter was going to pay for this once Draco was free.

The git laughed again. "Relax, Malfoy. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to throw insults at me later. I meant it when I said I'd let you go. Just as soon as I'm done."

Draco rolled his eyes again, and leaned against the wall. This could take a while.

"As I said, you're an idiot. I meant everything I said to you about your flying. It wasn't a ploy, and I wasn't trying to out-Slytherin you. Even if the hat …" Potter mumbled that last bit. "Never mind." What was he on about? "We hadn't even agreed to a game when I said all that stuff, so what would I have to gain?"

Well. Draco hadn't thought of that. He pondered this new information and concluded that Potter had obviously planned it all along. Yes, that was it. He figured Draco would agree to a game if he weakened him with praise first.

"And if you'll recall, it was you that suggested a game of one-on-one. Not me. So if you thought I'd planned something, you're wrong." Oh. So much for that theory.

He looked up at Draco rather timidly - and didn't that look suit him well? - and scratched the back of his neck. "Besides, I'm not the one who comes up with plans. I'm more of a run-in-without-thinking kind of guy."

Draco snorted. Well, in his mind he did. Since he still couldn't make any noise. He rolled his eyes instead.

"Anyway," Potter continued, "I wanted you to know that. I only made that comment about not letting it go to your head because … well, like I said, I don't really plan things. I was feeling … comfortable with you - as strange as that sounds - and it seemed like the natural thing to do, to joke around with you. It was almost like we were friends, and I was just … well, I suppose I should have known better."

Draco recalled his feeling out on the pitch when Potter had called him mate. He'd been pleased at the thought of being friends. He watched Potter as he seemed to get more and more uncomfortable. He was pacing as he spoke, he had a light blush across his cheeks, and he wouldn't look Draco in the eye. Draco finally had to stomp his foot to get his attention.

"Oh. Sorry. Did you want to say something?"

Draco wondered if he'd have a headache later after rolling his eyes so much.

Potter waved his wand, the ropes vanished, and Draco could once again speak. "Are you quite finished?" he asked.

"Er … I just wanted you to know. I just …"

"Yes, Potter, I get it. You really are in awe of my superior flying abilities, and finally decided to give in and admit it. Very big of you, really."

Potter smiled shyly. Damn it if he didn't look … cute like that.

"So we're … alright?" he asked. Draco nodded. Potter practically jumped around as he thrust his hand out towards Draco. He reminded Draco of an excitable crup. "Friends?" he asked.

A grin reached Draco's face before he could prevent it, and warmth spread through his chest. "If you insist," he replied, and they shook hands. The warmth in Draco's chest was nothing compared with the wave of magic that flowed up his arm at the contact.

That was interesting.

~*~*~

Harry very nearly had to pull his hand back as a jolt of … something ran up his arm when he and Malfoy shook hands. At the look of confusion on Malfoy's face, Harry reckoned he'd felt it too. Reluctantly, Harry withdrew his hand.

"Shall we get supper?" he ventured, wondering if he was pushing his luck. He had, after all, just magically bound and gagged Malfoy - something his mind suggested might be fun to try again, under different circumstances. Harry quickly banished that thought before his body's reaction became something he couldn't hide. He pondered whether there was some rule of etiquette regarding how much time must pass after you tie someone up, before you can dine together.

"Sure," Malfoy agreed. "But I think we've just about missed the whole meal. How about the kitchens?"

"I'm sorry about …" Harry said as they made their way to the kitchens. He waved his arm in the general direction of the dungeons.

Malfoy held out his hand. "What?" Harry asked.

"My wand …"

Oh. Right. Harry withdrew the wand from his pocket. Looking at it with confusion, he handed it back to Malfoy.

~*~*~

"Silencio," Draco muttered as soon as Potter had ordered his food and the house elves left to prepare it. Potter's face registered the spell. "Now I can eat in peace," Draco explained.

Potter shrugged and smiled. Draco knew he could have pulled out his own wand and ended the spell non-verbally, but he didn't. Instead, he picked up a bun and began to eat quietly. Such a bloody Gryffindor, Draco thought. How could he ever have thought Potter had been manipulating him?

~*~*~

Their tentative friendship managed to make it through the last few days before they were to leave for Christmas dinner. They spent much of their free time together, which was strangely comfortable.

They had breakfast together in the kitchens, wandered the castle inspecting the repairs and improvements in the mornings, had lunch with everyone, then went to the Quidditch pitch in the afternoons.

Harry found himself drawn to Malfoy as never before. Sure, he'd always been curious about Malfoy, but this was different. There was no underlying suspicion. Harry just wanted to get to know him better.

The more time they spent together, the more Harry felt attracted to Malfoy. He was intelligent and fun to be around. There was no denying that Malfoy was gorgeous, and Harry had to stop himself staring. He'd been caught looking a couple of times, and he didn't want to risk their fledgling friendship on feelings that were one-sided.

~*~*~

Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that Potter could actually carry on an intelligent conversation, and Potter seemed surprised that he had a sense of humour. For all they knew of each other after almost eight years, it was shocking to find out how much they had left to find out.

Draco found himself more fascinated by Potter the more time he spent with him. He‘d thought initially that it was just a physical desire to be closer, but that idea had gone out the window some time ago. He was interested in Potter. There was no denying that now.

He did his best to hide his feelings, since it wouldn't do to throw away a friendship he'd wanted for years. But once in a while, he caught Potter looking at him, and he wondered …

~*~*~

Harry awoke Christmas Day with an anxious feeling in his stomach. He wondered if Malfoy got his package. With only the one gift from Kreacher to open at Hogwarts, Harry made quick work of getting ready. He had suggested to Malfoy that they join everyone else for breakfast since they'd be leaving later in the morning. He was the first student to arrive that morning.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," McGonagall greeted him.

"Happy Christmas, Professor."

"Ah, and here's Mr Malfoy. Happy Christmas to you too!"

"Happy Christmas," Malfoy replied. He sat down as usual and began eating, showing no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Harry wondered if the house-elves had even delivered it. He'd have to talk to Kreacher after breakfast.

"Potter!"

Harry stopped at the sound of his name, just as he was leaving the Great Hall. He turned to face Malfoy.

"I would never have taken the Chosen One as a re-gifter," he said.

Harry saw an amused grin on his face and laughed rather loudly. McGonagall gave them a strange look from the table.

"I only just got it back a few days ago," Harry explained, "and I thought …"

"That you could dazzle me with a gift? Why, Potter, I didn't know you cared."

Harry felt himself blush. If he only knew. "I was wrapping presents at the time and I thought … well, I thought it might be nice to wrap it up for you."

"How very … chivalrous of you."

Harry shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat even more. "Hello? Gryffindor. Comes with the territory."

It was Malfoy's turn to laugh. The sound sent shivers down Harry's spine. "I bet you spent most of your childhood working to ensure you'd be on Santa's nice list."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was always told I was on the naughty list."

"Oh, really?" Malfoy asked, sounding amused. "And what might you have done to deserve that?"

Harry knew Malfoy was joking, but he couldn't stop the words from spewing forth. "Pretty much anything, really. And nothing. You know … breath, exist, be a wizard."

Harry saw confusion mixed with rage on Malfoy's face. It was strange to see that reaction on Malfoy's face when it wasn't directed at Harry. Strange … and rather nice, knowing it was on his behalf.

"But that's all in the past," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject. "No sense dwelling on things you can't change, right?"

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Malfoy finally broke it. "Thank you," he said, holding up his wand. "I never thought I'd see it again."

Harry had been surprised to see Malfoy's new wand the other day. He'd just assumed the old one had been returned to him. "The Ministry took it for evidence, and --" Malfoy blanched. "What?"

"Evidence?"

Realising his concern, Harry put a calming hand on Malfoy's arm. He ignored the tingling sensation at the contact. "Relax. There won't be any charges laid now."

The look Malfoy gave him was a mixture of hope and fear. They hadn't, by silent agreement, spoken of the war these past few days, so Harry elaborated. "I already gave a sworn statement that I had been in possession of your wand, and that Voldemort had taken others' wands. I made it perfectly clear that any spells cast by your wand could not be traced back to you exclusively. And I reminded them that you were acting under duress when you were casting spells."

"You did?"

"I did." Harry smiled. "You have nothing to fear."

Malfoy nodded and looked down at his arm. It was only then that Harry realised he hadn't let go.

~*~*~

Draco went back to his dorm to prepare for his day with Pansy. He had mixed feelings about it. A big part of him hated the idea of Potter spending the day with the weaselette, but another part of him wanted the distance, wanted to put some space between himself and Potter. He was dangerously close to falling hard, and aside from the odd glance Draco's way, he didn't think Potter reciprocated those feelings.

He tested out his old hawthorn wand, casting spells all over the place. It felt good to hold it in his hands again. His new wand was very good, but it wasn't an Ollivander's. And there was no question that Ollivander made the best wands.

Draco had been worried that the wand might not respond to him after everything that happened, and was pleased when it worked the same as before. He thought about the last spell that had been cast, and he frowned. He suspected the wand wouldn't work against Potter, but … well, he could still keep the other wand if he ever felt the need to hex him. He grinned as he realised he may never need to test that out.

~*~*~

"The two of you are off to an early start today," McGonagall said as she greeted them an hour later, at the Floo set up for student travel. "Looking forward to getting on with the festivities?"

They both nodded.

Harry tumbled out of the Floo at the Burrow with his usual lack of grace, and was greeted by … no one. That was odd. The reason became apparent as he heard the sound of Christmas carols being sung in the living room.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…

Smiling, Harry brushed himself off and went to join them.

As he entered the room, he saw that the requisite gingerbread house adorned the centre of the table, various angels and reindeer were scattered about, and there was mistletoe near the front door. As Harry spotted Ginny, he made a mental note to avoid the doorway. A picture of Malfoy under the mistletoe jumped into his mind. He shook that off and went to greet everyone.

It was a fun day, but as he'd expected, Harry felt like an outsider. He watched Ron and Hermione together, much like they were at school, pretty much inseparable. He tried to avoid spending too much time with Ginny, for fear she might get the wrong idea. George partook in festivities, but when not occupied with carols or tricks or the contents of their Christmas crackers, he closed himself off from everyone. Percy watched over him closely. Molly and Arthur spent much of the time catching up with Bill and Charlie, and when she wasn‘t casting wistful glances at Harry, Ginny was talking animatedly with Fleur, whom she clearly got on well with now. When that had happened, Harry had no idea.

As Molly was getting the plum pudding, Harry's thoughts wandered back to Malfoy, as they had several times throughout the day. It must have been the wand. Yes, that was it. They hadn't really talked about it, so naturally Harry was curious. It had nothing to do with his feelings, Harry told himself. Nothing at all.

He wondered how Malfoy's Christmas dinner with the Parkinsons was going.

~*~*~

Draco exited the Floo and was immediately greeted by Pansy. "Oh, Draco, it's so good to see you. You haven't been terribly bored, have you? Please tell me you haven't had to associate with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindorks. Because if you have, you should have come sooner. I've missed you." She pulled him into a rib-crushing embrace.

He smiled and returned the hug, though not as strongly. It was good to see his friend again, even if it had been less than a week. "Hi Pans." He gave her a peck on the cheek. "I've missed you too."

Before they had a chance to chat, Mr and Mrs Parkinson came to greet him and led the way into the living room, where the scent of mulled cider greeted Draco like an old friend. It wasn't home, but it was the next best thing. The fireplace mantel was covered with holly and ivy, and the Parkinsons' traditional berry wreath hung in its place of honour above. He glanced into the adjoining dining room, pleased to see a tastefully decorated table. Narcissa would have approved.

He wondered briefly what the table at the weasel's place looked like. He imagined utter chaos, with far too many people with far too much food, squished in around a table that was far too small. The image of Potter squished in beside the weaselette caused Draco to frown.

As the day progressed, his mother's absence became more pronounced, until he felt smothered by it. As though sensing something was wrong - who was he kidding; she could read him like a book - Pansy bade her parents good night, and ushered him upstairs.

"No memories up here," she said knowingly.

He smirked. "Well, different kinds of memories," he corrected.

She edged closer to him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then whispered, "We could make some more, if you'd like."

He chuckled. "Pansy, darling, you know I love you …"

"Yes, yes." She sat back and pouted. It did nothing for her. "But I don't have the right equipment."

Unbidden, Draco's thoughts returned to someone who had exactly the right equipment. And then some.

Part 6