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Chapter Text

“What have you got there, Harry?” Neville asked when Harry pushed Ron and Hermione apart so he could sit between them. Honestly, he was fine with them dating, but he didn’t want to watch them consume each other for breakfast every morning.

“I honestly have no idea.” He sighed as he dropped a heavy black book on the Gryffindor table. “When I woke up this morning it was lying on the edge of my bed, wrapped in christmas paper. Maybe one of the house elves mixed up the dates for christmas or something.”

“It’s not another piece of you know who now, is it?” Ron eyed the black book suspiciously, before turning to his full english breakfast again. Harry really didn’t want to know why the redhead was that hungry in the early morning.

“It’s not.” Seamus said surprised as he picked it up and studied it more closely. “It’s an advent book. I know because that’s how my mom courted my dad. It’s a bit like those muggle advent calendars that count down to christmas, only instead of chocolate you get a message or a present every day.”

“Ulgh, who would want some sappy quote or trinket instead of food?” Ron huffed as he stuffed his face with more baked beans.

“Maybe people who are romantic, Ron?” Hermione snapped at him, but she smiled as soon as he started to look sheepish. Harry rolled his eyes.

“What kind of messages?” Dean asked before Harry got the chance. “Spells? Or love letters? Is it standardized?”

“No, I think this one is an original.” Seamus pondered as he flipped through the pages. “It’s custom made, very old magic. You’re a lucky man Harry. Someone took the effort to write you twenty one messages leading up to christmas in one of the most expensive books one can buy. That’s a lot of effort, even if it’s just a fan.”

Seamus leaned across the table and handed Harry his book back. Harry picked it up and studied it again, more closely this time. “How do I know it’s not cursed, or out to kill me?”

“They can’t be, it’s part of their magic.” Seamus replied. “It’s why they were especially popular during the first and second wizarding war. Even the most suspicious witch or wizard can’t be wary of them, because they’re made by Santa’s elves.”

“Don’t be stupid Seamus, Santa doesn’t exist.” Hermione huffed from behind her transfiguration textbook.

“Yes he does!” Neville exclaimed suddenly, joining in on their conversation so fast he accidentally sprayed the table with pieces of toast. Harry quickly picked up his book and held it against his chest for safekeeping.

“Or he did, at any rate. He was an old wizard up in lapland, who traded in protective amulets and trinkets for kids that he called joy-givers. When he died he ordered his elves to keep making small things to bring the wizarding world joy, and that’s why you know their magic is always safe. Murder isn’t very joyful, you see, and they can’t go against their master’s wishes.”

Hermione seemed stunned for a moment by the fact that Neville knew something that she didn’t. Harry looked down at the black book again. When he studied it more closely he could indeed make out a stamp in the corner on the back. The fancy lettering in the logo appeared to say something about elves and a guy named Santa.

His curiosity tickled and his suspicion erased, Harry opened the book.

Dear Harry,

I still think I must be mad to give this for you, because you are an absolute idiot. But you are an absolute idiot with your heart in the right place, and sadly that is a rarity these days. Trust me, I know.

Don’t think too much of what you’ll find in here. My only goal is to help you get out of bed in the morning, or to make you laugh. You don’t do that nearly as often as you should, which is a shame because it’s a wonderful thing to watch.

I know you are daunted by the upcoming christmas, the upcoming year and whatever it is that lies beyond that, and though I can’t possibly take your hand and guide you through it (not just because your hands are sweaty, but also because you are way too proud to accept any help) I do hope that this book can make you look forward to your future a little bit more. Because you should. Having a future is a privilege which it should be celebrated, not feared. And I know for a fact that you will have a bright future, no matter how unlikely you might think that is now.

Happy first advent day Harry,

A stranger

A stranger. When Harry read the message again he couldn’t help but feel like the person who had written it was not a stranger at all. They sounded more like a close friend.

“Any idea who gave this to you, Harry?” Harry was startled by Hermione, who had been reading along over his shoulder.

“No.” He quickly shut the book before others could start reading it. The gift felt too personal to share. “Like I said, I woke up this morning and it was just there, on my bed.”

“D'you reckon Goldstein wrote it?” Ron asked, referring to one of Harry’s three roommates. “I mean, he has the money, and I’m pretty sure I saw him looking at your butt yesterday.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Goldstein writes much more posh than this. And he’d never use the word idiot.”

“True. I heard him call Malfoy a cretin last week. Still don’t know what it means but it got Parkinson and Theo very defensive.” Neville shrugged.

Seamus pulled a disgusted face. “You don’t think Malfoy made this now, do you?”

Harry stopped to think about that for a moment, but before he could say anything Ron had beaten him to it. “Absolutely not, Malfoy hates Harry. And besides, the ministry confiscated his entire inheritance at his father’s trial. If this is really expensive then he can’t afford it.”

“Maybe Smith, then?” Dean offered, though he didn’t sound like he believed that was an actual option.

Harry shook his head. “I can’t imagine Smith writing this, he never stopped sulking after I beat him during that quidditch match in oktober.”

“So not one of your roommates then…” Seamus mused. “Maybe one of the girls? I know Susan always speaks very fondly of you, and her aunt is rich.”

“But Susan wouldn’t call Harry an absolute idiot. Can’t be her.” Hermione dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. The Gryffindors continued discussing who a stranger could be until it was lunch time and the news of Cho and Marietta finally getting together took over the gossip mill.

But Harry couldn’t help but ponder on the matter for hours as he lay in bed that night. A stranger….

Who on earth could that be?

Chapter Text

When Harry awoke the next day, he didn’t have the time to think about the identity of a stranger much. His first hour was potions, and if he didn’t hurry then there’d be nowhere left to sit except for the spot next to Malfoy.

Not that Malfoy was a bad potions partner, but somehow Harry always made the most monstrous fuck-ups when the blonde was only a couple feet away.

As the day dragged on Harry did think of his advent book, but always during moments when he couldn’t check it. Like halfway through brewing a draught of the living dead with Antony Goldstein, who would not shut up about his aunts adorable rottweiler, making Harry want to shove his head inside his own cauldron.

During transfiguration just when Mcgonagall had asked him to demonstrate a certain advanced spell, resulting in his water jug turning into lead instead of crystal. And lastly during an eight year only quidditch match just before catching the snitch, which caused Harry to almost fly into a goalpost.

All in all it hadn’t been a good day, largely thanks to that bloody advent book, so when Harry finally got to bed that night he wasn’t so eager to open it up anymore. Not that he didn’t do it, he was still curious as fuck mind you, but when he did it was almost reluctantly.

That air of let’s-just-get-this-over-with disappeared however, when he opened the book and a card fell out.

Sandman’s secret scents, the front of the card read. There was a post-it stuck to the card just underneath the title, that said READ the instructions . The word ‘read’ was underlined seven times. Curious, but also more than a little annoyed that the stranger didn’t think he’d read the instructions, he opened the card.

Everyone wants and deserves a jolly start of the morning, a well spent afternoon and an evening filled with kindness and love. How heavy a burden it is then, when one is incapable of being one’s true, kind and splendid self because the Sandman doesn’t know where you live?

We at Sandman’s secret scents know this burden, and strive to take it away from each and every one of our lovely people. It is because of this humble goal that we have developed these neat envelopes filled with the sand and scent that will kindly guide you away to a night well slept.

For one night of careless closed eyes and childlike wonder at the start of another joyous day, one only needs to rub their nose over the red square on the opposite page. Please only sniff the page one time, more is not needed.

We wish you a good night,

Barbara and Madison Gagnon

Canadian sleep experts

Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to gag at the high sugary-sweet percentage in the letter, or beg the heavens on his bare knees that Barbara and Madison were indeed offering him the sleep he’d been missing since the end of the war. Though it wasn’t just the Canadian’s offering him sleep, it was the stranger too.

“If this works, then thank you.” Harry whispered to the book, even though he knew it was silly, and that the stranger couldn’t hear him anyway. Then, he carefully put the book and his glasses aside, gently booped his nose against the card and sniffed.

Only one minute later, Harry’s head was firmly buried in his pillow, his advent present was on his bedside and his mind was blissfully blank while his body enjoyed the first full night sleep it had had in ages.

Chapter Text

When Harry awoke the third morning, it took him a while to remember his advent book. For the first time since the end of the war, he hadn’t had any nightmares, and that discovery was so surprising that for a few minutes he could only lie there, marveling at the feeling of being well rested.

It was only when he got up and reached for his glasses that he spotted the book again. Curious about today’s present, Harry pushed his glasses on his nose and opened the curtains so he could read the pages in fresh sunlight.

Dear Harry,

Being a third wheel is no fun. But there is one thing worse than being a third wheel, and that is being a third wheel and having no one to, pardon the language, bitch to about it. And because the aim of this book is bringing a smile to your face, I can’t let you walk around with that sort of pent up frustration in your gut. Not in the least because stress like that can lead to nasty ulcers (trust me, I know).

So, I advice you to put on a shirt (honestly, who sleeps without a shirt. You’re such a heathen) and open the box under this message. I promise you there is no better stress cure in the world.

There was more text underneath that line, but Harry had always had poor impulse control. Quickly, without bothering with the shirt, he pried the flap under the message open. At first sight it looked like a small paper pocket-like thing, but this was a magic advent book. For all Harry knew Narnia was behind the paper flap.

Or it wasn’t Narnia, but a tiny black kitten with a red bow tie around it’s neck.

“What the fuck?” Harry’s face was filled with confusion as he reached inside the box and lifted the kitten out. As soon as he touched the soft black fur the animal started purring loudly.

He wasn’t sure how a kitten was supposed to be de-stressing. And he wasn’t sure either if he was ready to get a new pet after the death of Hedwig. Of course that was now almost one and a half years ago, but it still hurt. And cats were more Hermione’s thing anyway.

“That thing is not staying in our dorm.” Harry’s eyes shot up to find Malfoy, impeccably dressed in slightly worn Hogwarts robes, come out of the bathroom. There was a look of utter disgust on his face as he eyes the black kitten. Immediately Harry grew protective over the little thing and he held it tightly against his chest.

“Shut the fuck up Malfoy. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t- Ouch!” harry suddenly got the hint about the shirt. The kitten had stuck one of his tiny claws in his nipple.

“Like I said, I’m not having that thing in here. He’ll ruin my robes and wee all over the floor.” Malfoy pulled another disgusted face as he threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get rid of it, Potter.”

Harry watched Malfoy depart with bafflement. The man barely spoke anymore since he’d returned for eighth year and in general tried to be a nicer person, but apparently those habits went out of the window when it came to tiny kittens.

Weird.

But with the kitten still hanging in his nipple, Harry had better things to worry about. With a pained grunt he pulled the creature away from his chest and placed it amidst the bedcovers. Then he set about reading the rest of the letter.

I also promise you it would be wise to follow through on my tips next time. There’s disinfectant in the box as well.

Happy third advent day Harry,

A stranger

Ps. The name of the kitten is Arthur, but she is a girl. Don’t ask, I don’t know why either.

Harry chuckled as he looked up and saw the kitten claw at his bed covers. In his head he was already imagining the creature going to town on Malfoy’s fancy wear.

Maybe the pet wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

Chapter Text

The following day Harry wasn't woken up by the sun, or by his alarm going off, but by Ginny practically pouncing on his bed.

“Gin, what the fuck are you doing here?” Harry muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

“It snowed Harry! It snowed!” Ginny sounded excited, but also somewhat worried.

“And? It snows every year, why do you need to wake me up for that at,” Harry quickly cast a tempus charm, “half past bloody five?”

“Because it's Hagrid’s birthday today and if we don't get cracking right now we won't be able to get the greenhouses cleared of snow, and then he'll have to spent his entire day shoveling.” Ginny crossed her arms and seemed to be trying to glare Harry out of bed.

“Ulgh, since when have you turned into such a Hufflepuff saint?” Harry groaned as he pulled his pillow over his head. Of course he loved Hagrid, but the big guy wasn't really opposed to a little shoveling. And op top of that Harry had lost his gloves somewhere during the mayhem in the war and had never gotten around to replacing them. Surely his fingers would fall off if he went outside now.

“Don’t be such a grumpy old bugger, Harry.” Ginny gave him a playful shove. “Just get that arse out of bed and into the snow. It's for a good cause.”

“My sleep is a good cause too. I’m a national hero, remember?” Harry told her mock-offended, but he dropped that attitude when Ginny started hitting him over the head with a pillow.

“Get. Your. Lazy. Arse. Out. Of. Bed. Harry. James. Potter.” She accentuated every word with a blow to his head.

“Okay okay fine!” Harry snatched the pillow from Ginny and glared at her with tired eyes. “Just stop molesting me already.”

“Only because you ask so nicely. See you downstairs in five minutes!” Ginny winked at him and ran out of the room. Harry groaned and buried his head back into his pillow for just a few more blissful seconds. Then he gathered all of his Gryffindor courage and planted his feet on the cold unforgiving floor of the eight year dorms.

The stranger better have a damn good present that day or he was going right back to bed after helping Ginny, classes be damned.

Or maybe…

Harry shot a doubtful look at the advent book. Surely the stranger didn’t know him so well that they would give him some gloves, or a hot mug of tea as present that day. That would be impossible.

But on the other hand, Harry still didn’t know who the stranger was, and it could very well be that predicting a little snow wasn’t above their abilities. Or maybe they’d just give him an accidentally well timed christmas sweater.

At any rate he couldn’t be sure until he checked, so when Harry had gotten dressed with as many layers as he could find, he reached for his advent book and checked that day’s page.

Dear Harry,

First things first, I want to congratulate you with the birthday of the only person whose hair is an even bigger disaster than your own, our beloved gamekeeper and professor Hagrid.

Now because it wouldn’t be fair to the big man to get outshone by The Saviour on his birthday, I thought it would be best if today’s gift hid some of your more striking features. And that these items will also shield you from the cold might make them a stimulant for you to get out of bed. After all getting you out of bed in the morning is one of the reasons that I am bothering with this advent book at all.

I hope it works.

Happy fourth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Quickly, and with a sense of surrealness, Harry pulled his gift out of the book. They were colourful gloves, not with the Hogwarts or Gryffindor symbol on it, but with the Potter family crest. That same picture was sewn onto the scarf and the hat, and there was even a bright red blanket with a life-size crest on it as well.

Harry had to bite back a tear as his mouth morphed into a smile. He always felt as if he were floating on some sort of cloud made out of nostalgia and happiness every time he found something that connected or reminded him of his parents.

Quickly, before Ginny would start yelling at him for being too slow, he put the stuff on. Only the blanket he left on his bed. He was already looking forward to wrapping himself in it once he got back from the greenhouses.

The stranger had picked today’s gift quite well.

Chapter Text

The next day Harry was woken up by soft black paws playing not all that softly with his hair. In fact, if he were the judge of things he’d say Arthur was pulling on his hair. But the tiny creature was too adorable to get mad at, even in the early morning when it rudely awakened him.

“Good morning to you too Arthur.” Harry carefully lifted the creature off his head and held it on front on him. “You’re just using that cute face of yours to get away with all your crimes, aren’t you?”

Arthur purred, but showed no other sign of hearing him. With a chuckle Harry placed the kitten on the blankets in his lap and leaned over to his nightstand to get the advent book. When he opened it he was suddenly immensely grateful that he didn’t share a dorm with Ron anymore. Because if he had, then he would have lost that day’s present within seconds.

Dear Harry,

I come to you this day bearing gifts, as I always do. It’s not something for keeping but for eating this time around. I contemplated making you treacle tart first, but then I remembered that a varied diet is a healthy diet, so old fashioned christmas cookies might be the healthier choice. After all I do want you to stick around for many christmases yet to come, so your health is on the top of my priority list.

I do warn you that baking is rather new for me, so don’t expect too much of them.

Happy fifth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Already smiling Harry reached down into the book to retrieve a green box with a red ribbon. Its content still felt warm in his hands, and the smell … It was like the burrow, but also like the great hall during a feast and the tea Hagrid had served in his hut just the day before on his birthday.

He held the box close to his chest for a moment and stared at that day’s message again. Don’t expect too much of them.

Harry shook his head. If the smell was anything to go by, then either the stranger had never smelled their own cookies, or they had some seriously weird standards when it came to food.

Chapter Text

The next morning Harry awoke to a cat paw poking him in the face in a manner that could only be described as impatient. With a groan, Harry sat up in bed and looked around for his glasses. When he’d managed to locate them he found a very annoyed Crookshanks on his duvet with a very naughty kitten hanging in its fur.

“Oi! Arthur!” Harry quickly pulled his new pet off the orange cat. “Leave poor Crookshanks alone, will you?”

Arthur meowed loudly and promptly started licking Harry’s finger. Harry chuckled as Crookshanks quickly fled the dorm once its burden was removed. The large orange cat wasn’t the first victim of his pet.

Only yesterday one of Parvati’s decorative butterflies had failed to survive an intense play session with Arthur. Luckily the Bangladeshi woman hadn’t been angry anymore as soon as she discovered how cute the destroyer of her hair ornament was, otherwise Harry would have been in serious trouble. If not with her then with her girlfriend Lavender.

“You devilish fluffy little thing.” Harry lifted Arthur in front of his face, lavishing in the way its soft fur felt against his fingers. “Are you ever going to behave?”

“If she resembles you in any sort of way then probably not.” Harry looked up to see Malfoy emerge from the bathroom, apparently still a little bit flustered from a hot shower. He had his head tilted to the side a bit as he brushed the last parts of his long blonde hair dry. “But at first glance I’d say she’s much cuter than you are, so maybe there’s still hope.”

“Oh fuck off Malfoy. No one asked for your opinion.” Harry growled after a few seconds of silence. It wasn’t his best comeback ever, but it was hard to focus with Malfoy’s waist length hair only a few feet away.

The strands looked so soft they almost seemed to be begging to be touched. Not that Harry focussed much on that, of course. he had a soft kitten, he didn’t need Malfoy for anything.

To his disappointment Malfoy didn’t say anything snarky back to his less-than-witty response. Instead his shoulders slumped a little and he quickly gathered his things before leaving the dorm without another word.

Harry stared at the door behind which Malfoy had disappeared for a while then. He wasn’t sure why, but he had the sense that he’d just missed something. After a moment he firmly shook his head and put the thought out of his mind. If there had been anything he’d missed it was probably just another insult.

With a sigh he fished his advent book out of his nightstand drawer with one hand while holding Arthur with the other, hoping that the stranger could let his mind focus on something else.

Something that wasn’t how Malfoy’s hair had looked almost angelic just before, when the morning sunlight had hit it from behind.

Dear Harry

This seems like the kind of awful and hideous thing you ought to have. I know some people will struggle with this present, but I also know wearing it will help a great deal of other students, including me. And since you still have a saviour complex bigger than the moon I thought you wouldn’t mind wearing a statement.

Happy sixth day of advent Harry,

A stranger

As Arthur chewed his finger Harry quickly opened the box in the book, his mind now indeed far away from Malfoy. Excitedly he stuck his hand in the dark depths of the box and came out holding an oversized hoodie.

It was lined with fluffy stuff on the inside and the outside was coloured in pink, purple and blue. Another dig into the box revealed a box full of buttons labeled for handing out.

There were bi buttons, rainbow coloured buttons, discreetly gay buttons and LGBTQ+ ally buttons. Harry realised with a smile then what the colours of the hoodie represented; it was bi pride merch.

He chuckled a bit. At least he knew now that the stranger read The Quibbler.

Chapter Text

“So you still have no idea why this stranger is, Harry?” Hermione asked as she pinned her bi button on her chest next to the head girl and S.P.E.W. one.

“No, but I wish I did.” Harry sighed melancholically as he eyed the crumbs of the last cookie on the Gryffindor table in the great hall. “I need that recipe for those biscuits or I’ll go insane.”

“You’ve run out of cookies?” Ron’s eyes were the size of plates as he stared at Harry. “But that’s terrible! What am I going to eat now?”

“Fruit, perhaps?” Hermione held out an apple for Ron to take, but the ginger man pulled a disgusted face and pushed it away.

“Apples can’t replace those cookies, no matter how sweet they are.” Harry chuckled at his best friend, but the laughter died in his throat when Hermione started talking again.

“Well, there might be something else in your dorm that can replace those cookies. Eat your fruit and find out.” Hermione tossed Ron the apple and walked out of the great hall. Ron didn’t seem to know how fast he ought to eat his apple as he jumped to his feet and hurried away, leaving his best mate alone at the table.

Harry watched the two of them depart and just wanted to start gagging when a tiny, furry creature jumped on his lap and hooked its claws in Harry’s tie.

“Hey Arthur.” Harry grinned at his kitten. “Are you trained for these situations or something?”

Arthur didn’t respond, just purred and began a quest to knock Harry’s glasses off his nose. One table further Harry thought for a brief moment that he’d seen Malfoy smile at him, but when he looked again the Slytherin was just staring lethargically at his food.

“He always looks so sad these days.” Harry looked up to see Luna standing next to him, her dreamy grey eyes fixed on Malfoy’s dull ones. “I wish other people would see that too.”

Then the Ravenclaw smiled at Harry fondly and sat down. Arthur abandoned his quest to steal Harry’s glasses in favour of chewing on Luna’s butterbeer cork earrings. “Are you willing to share what was in your advent book today, Harry?”

Harry startled a bit, he’d still been fixating on Malfoy who didn’t appear to be eating anything, even though he had already skipped lunch that day. Not that Harry cared or anything. “A book. I got a book from the stranger.”

Harry fished the paperback out of his robes and handed it over to Luna. The girl didn’t pay any heed to the blurb on the back, but instead held it upside down and started sniffing the pages. Harry began to tell her about the story as she smelled his book.

“It’s about a kid in ancient Athens whose mother steals a cabbage and gets the death penalty for it, so she runs away with her two best friends on a quest to find the entrance to Hades. She wants to ask the gods there if she can get her mother back from the dead.”

“Sounds wonderful Harry.” Luna inhaled the scent of the book one last time before handing it back. “Are you reading it yet?”

“I was planning to.” Harry’s eyes flicked over to Luna’s seated form. “but if you-”

“Don’t worry, Ginny is saving me some pudding,” Luna winked at him and got up.”Have fun reading Harry. I know I do.”

When the fairy girl made her way back to her own table Harry flipped the book open on the first page. Five minutes later, he was lost in a city from 2600 years ago, his dinner long forgotten and his kitten quietly munching away on his steak.

Dear Harry

It is important to be able to cope with the world around you. In fact helping you do that is the entire reason behind this advent book, but that doesn’t mean escaping to another world is a bad thing. Quite the contrary. And though certain potions and drugs can take you as far away as you like, I have always found books do a much better job than cocaine.

I hope the same goes for you.

Happy seventh advent day Harry,

A stranger

Chapter Text

Harry hadn’t slept. Not as in, he’d tried but only managed a couple minutes, but as in he had not closed his eyes for longer than a second since dinner the previous day. His book was so gripping that he hadn’t even bothered going to his dorm that night, so when the first eight years started trickling into the common room for a lazy sunday morning, they found Harry in the exact same place where they had last seen him.

“Harry mate, are you joining us for breakfast?” Harry vaguely recognised the voice that was talking to him, but the fight between Persephone and Hades was much more interesting.

“Sure thing Ron.” He answered on automatic pilot, but he didn’t move.

“Do you think he’s cursed Hermione?” Ron asked his girlfriend jokingly, but there was a hint of real worry in his voice.

“No, he’s just invested in his book.” Hermione smiled as she recognised her own dedication in the tired, bloodshot eyes of her best friend. “He won’t be disturbed until he’s finished or until he falls asleep. Lets just leave him here.”

Ron shot Hermione a funny look, but followed eventually. With Harry or without, it was still time for breakfast and he wasn’t missing that.

When the couple came back from the great hall Harry wasn’t in the common room anymore. Instead, he was beating up his pillow out of pure frustration, because the book had ended on a cliffhanger and the next part wouldn’t be out until may next year.

Suddenly the stranger had become one of his least favorite people in the world.

It took a three hour nap, a late lunch and an even later dinner before Harry’s frustration levels allowed him to check the advent book again. He couldn’t say that he wasn’t disappointed when the gift didn’t turn out to be the second part of the greek book series, but that disappointment didn’t last long.

Dear Harry,

Just when I’d convinced myself that I know most of your odd quirks, you throw something new at me. By which I mean that I would have never guessed that you would stay up all night reading.

But it wasn’t an unpleasant thing to discover, quite the opposite really. It is for this reason that I give you something today which I had planned to save for a later date. Not just because you looked more at peace than I have ever seen you before while you read, but also because I wouldn’t want you to spend the entire christmas holiday with your nose in a book.

I doubt that you’ll go through this one quite as fast as the last one though, but that’s okay. This is not a book for hurried reading, more for leaving through and taking time to let each page sink in. It might not help you get out of bed in the morning, and it might be a while before it makes you laugh, but I believe that it is still important for you to have this.

It is a rare copy, so please do be careful with it and don’t drag it around in that garbage dump with straps that you call a bag. Not only would I not appreciate my gift being handled that way, but I am also fairly certain that Hermione would kill you if she saw you hurt this book.

I do not hope to fill something missing with this gift, but I do hope to add something to a history that is already there. A history that you might be able to make yourself if you stop nearly-colliding with quidditch goalposts.

Take good care of yourself.

Happy eighth day of advent Harry,

A stranger

Harry could physically feel his curiosity grow and tug at him, and he had to restrain himself from diving into the box in the book with both hands, possibly destroying the page all together. With trembling fingers he reached inside, and picked up his gift.

It was, unsurprisingly, a book. The thing was heavy, leather bound and smelled older than time itself. The pages were a surprise, because they existed not out of the usual thick, heavy parchment but out of a lighter material. A bit like the thin pages of a bible. Harry estimated that the book in his hand could easily have 3000 pages.

The spine of the book had once held large, elegant golden lettering, but that was just a memory now. Years of dust, sun and the simple passing of time had worn it quite badly. The brown leather back was in a better condition, though there was nothing written on it.

The front , however…

While the lettering had been almost lost on the spine, the same could not be said for the front. Warm golden words, simply but gracefully written, lay spread across the brown leather, ready to be read.

The Journey Of A Family.

Made by Linfred of Stinchcombe and the Potters who came after him .

For those who are looking, but don’t know they have already found.

For the wanderers who are not lost, and for the lost who do not wander.

For the courageous idiots and the idiotic courage that shaped our family.

Welcome home. Welcome back.

Carefully paging through the book showed Harry that it was a family history going all the way back to the twelfth century, to the very birth of the Potter family. His family.

Each Potter who reached the worthy age of seventy seven got their own set of pages to tell their story to those who’d come after. Some appeared to be whole biographies, others were just drawings, recipes for potions and muffins, or fairy tales. A whole assortment of things.

After a moment of looking Harry had to close the book and put it away. More than anything he didn’t want to harm it any further, so he didn’t want to risk his tears falling onto the pages.

He was too overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions racing through him to think about how the stranger had gotten hold of the book. Too overwhelmed to realise that the stranger had been watching him that day. Too overwhelmed to notice Malfoy slipping out of their dorm looking tired but also happy.

But just overwhelmed enough to fall back onto his pillow grinning like a loon. For the first time since the start of the war it felt like he wasn’t just surviving anymore.

Because with the aid of the advent book, which was slowly making him look forward to the next day instead of dread it, he felt like he was finally starting to live .

Chapter Text

Harry was so lost in the Potter family book the next day, that he’d wholly forgotten about opening his advent book again. It was nearing midnight once he realised that. Hasty, he pulled the book out of his nightstand drawer, but before he could open it he stopped.

Reaching for the drawer had required him to lean out of bed, out of the confinement of his curtains. Doing so had revealed to him that the opposite bed, the one Malfoy slept in, wasn’t occupied.

The curtains hung open, showing off a neatly made unslept pillow and duvet. A green set of pyjamas lay on the covers, ready to be worn, but there was no one around to do so. Intrigued, Harry climbed out of bed and walked over to the other side of the room. His other two dorm mates hadn’t noticed anything, they were fast asleep.

Malfoy’s bed didn’t give Harry any clues as to where its occupant was at first glance. It was all neat corners and folded lines, so much sticking to protocol that it was almost as if no one ever slept there.

As Harry eyed his ex-rival’s stuff, the short exchanges he’d had with the man came to the front of his mind. First his dislike of Arthur, then his dislike of Harry. Although…

“You devilish fluffy little thing. Are you ever going to behave?”

“If she resembles you in any sort of way then probably not. But at first glance I’d say she’s much cuter than you are, so maybe there’s still hope.”

Much cuter that you are .

Fuck.

Malfoy, out of all people Malfoy had called him cute. And instead of noticing that, Harry had told the man to fuck off. Told a clearly depressed Malfoy to fuck off even though the man had been trying his best to make up for his mistakes ever since returning to Hogwarts. Out if all the stupid things he’d done in his life, this might very well make the top ten.

“What are you doing?” Harry startled as Malfoy walked into their dorm. Or rather, limped. The man looked bleak, tired, but mostly agitated about finding Harry rummaging around his stuff.

“Nothing.” Harry quickly responded, stepping away from Malfoy’s space. “Just wondering why you’re not in bed, that’s all.” Malfoy shot him a suspicious glare and took the last couple of steps towards his bed, clearly trying to hide his limp a lot more now, with very little success. “Are you alright?”

“Since when do you care, Potter?” Malfoy tossed his bag on the floor and arched an eyebrow at him in the dark. He was clearly not amused by Harry’s concern. Given their history he probably thought Harry was faking it, just to try and get an embarrassing explanation out of him so Harry could get a laugh.

“I don’t.” The words came out in a rush, more a reflex trained over the past seven years than a true answer to Malfoy’s question. Harry winced at how harsh his own voice sounded, and noticed fairly quickly that he didn’t actually mean his words. “I mean, I do but-”

“Never mind Potter. I know where I stand.” Harry wished there was more light in the room so he’d be able to read Malfoy’s face, but the night was clouded and his wand light had long since gone out.

Malfoy snatched his pyjamas from his bed and made his way to the bathroom before Harry found the words to reply. The blonde didn’t bother hiding his limp this time, but Harry had no idea if that was a good or a bad thing.

With slumped shoulders he got back in bed and settled for the worst. He did think of his advent book again as he lay there, but didn’t feel deserving of a single kind word after what he’d said to Malfoy.

However, the thought of nice words did make him come up with a stupid, reckless, very sleep-deprived idea. Quickly he pulled his writing equipment out of his bag and scribbled down a note.

I don’t hate you, and I do care if you’re alright. Sorry for acting like such an arse.

~Harry

Harry gave the hurried note a once over and then, with an extra dash of Potter recklessness, he added an extra line that he knew he’d regret in the morning.

Ps. Arthur is queen of cuteness, but you’re at least worthy of being a prince.

Already feeling like writing the note at all had been a mistake, Harry hurried over to Malfoy’s bed and lay it down on the covers so Malfoy could find it.

Then he waited anxiously for Malfoy’s return. He declared himself mad more than once as he lay there in the dark, the little note on the other bed burning a hole in his mind.

It was true what he’d written. He had stopped hating Malfoy the moment he’d seen him on top of the astronomy tower, shaking, scared and torn between two evils with no one willing to offer a helping hand.

He had realised that a while ago now, but that he genuinely wanted to know if Malfoy was alright, that was a new feeling. Or maybe the feeling wasn’t new, but acknowledging that it existed certainly was.

And then of course there was the part where he’d not only called Malfoy cute, but had also called him a prince. That part made his insides squirm because it was an awkward thing to say, but also because connecting the words cute and Malfoy flooded his brain with an ocean of images

Images of Malfoy getting out of bed, Malfoy brushing his hair, Malfoy sitting curled up in the eight year common room reading a book, Malfoy sticking out the end of his tongue as he made notes during difficult classes, Malfoy making homework in the library while his hair kept falling in front of his face…

Eventually Harry just tried not to think of that part of the note anymore at all, because it made him want to get up and snatch it away. Something inside of him didn’t want that to happen. Eventually that ‘something’ won it from the rest, and he managed to settle in for the night for good, leaving the note for what it was.

Not that Harry really knew what the note was though.

It was a good forty minutes later when Malfoy emerged from the bathroom again with a thick healing cream on his bruised ankle. By that time Harry had miraculously managed to fall asleep despite his anxiousness, and he didn’t see what Malfoy did when he found his note.

The only thing Harry saw, was the result of forgetting to use his very first advent gift. And it was a sight he would not soon forget.

Chapter Text

Harry was shaking, gasping for air as the images in his mind send his brain into such a terrible overdrive that it forgot to send any messages to his lungs.

Breathe, breathe, breathe

The only luck that came with having everything crash down on him at once, was that the flashes of scenes from the war came so fast he could hardly see them. He could only feel the intense emotions that came with them. Grief, anger, doubt, fury.

Fear.

Breathe, breathe, breathe

He was vaguely aware of nails digging into his palm, and found that he didn’t know if they were his own or not. The cramped up fingers only started to relax when his environment rapidly changed. Cold air hit his overheated skin as it was exposed to the air outside of his little cabin made out of curtains.

Breathe, breathe, breathe

He missed the pain, missed the sharp edge of nails making his neurons fire and his mind drift from the nightmare world into the real one. Until something snapped inside of him, and he didn’t miss anything anymore.

The real world rapidly took shape around him. He was back in his bed, safe and sound at Hogwarts, his open eyes showing him that there was nothing to miss, because everything was right there. Malfoy sat on the edge of his bed, holding Arthur in one hand while the other pushed not too gently against Harry’s ribcage.

“Breathe, Harry. Breathe out. Your lungs are hardly as big as your head, they can’t suck up all the air in the room.” Harry did as he was told, and found that breathing out caused his stress-level to plumet like nothing he’d known before.

“Now do it again. In and out. In and out.” Malfoy bend over him, allowing Harry to fall back into his pillow without losing sight of the pyjama-clad man at his bedside. But it turned out that that was not the true reason why Malfoy had bend over him, because seconds later a set of tiny soft paws came into contact with his chest, and the blonde head disappeared again.

“I’m going to get Granger and Weasley for you. Try to focus on breathing, nothing else.” Then Malfoy’s warm hand was pulled away from him as well, and suddenly he was alone. Alone but for the purring kitten cautiously making its way to his face. Arthur carefully started licking his chin as the door fell shut behind his saviour.

“You haven’t had nightmares this bad in months. What changed?” Even a full hour after waking up Harry still didn’t feel up to answering Hermione’s concerned question. He’d managed to take a shower, get dressed and go down to the common room. But talking was still a bit of a challenge, especially when it concerned the nightmare itself.

“Maybe nothing did.” Ron replied. “Sometimes these things just happen. We don’t need to know the why behind everything.”

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue about Ron’s point, but before she could Luna entered the common room and plopped down next to Harry. There was a strong smelling pine branch stuck in her hair. Its needles almost stabbed Harry as Luna leaned forward and pulled him into a big bear hug the way only Luna could. The scent of pine was rather calming on his nerves after the enervating morning he’d just had.

“Hi Luna.” Harry hugged the girl back firmly.

“Hi Harry.” Luna replied, a smile audible in her voice.

“Is there anyone left in the castle who doesn’t know about my nightmare yet, or did you guys give an announcement over the speakers?” Harry released Luna and glared somewhat annoyed at his friends. He didn’t like being in the centre of attention like this, even if the attention came from Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Luna.

Just as Seamus opened his mouth to answer Neville came down the stairs, a slightly swaying plant in one hand and a black book in the other. It was Harry’s advent book.

“Here, I thought you might like these.” Neville put the plant down on the little table next to the couch Harry had nestled himself in, and lay the book down next to it. “The plant spreads a calm atmosphere, and the book always cheers you up, doesn’t it?”

“It does, thanks Nev.” Harry shot the man a quick smile. “But seriously guys, I’m fine. Not sick, not dying, not unwell. There’s no need to make such a fuss.”

Harry looked away from Neville to the others just in time to witness Seamus and Ron exchange a funny look. He raised an eyebrow at them. “What?”

“Harry, have you ever skipped class?” Dean asked when Seamus and Ron didn’t answer and instead continued giving each other odd looks, now accompanied by strange mouthed words.

“Yes, have you met me?” Harry huffed. “Half the time I should have spent on charms I was off fighting Voldemort.”

“That’s not what he means.” Hermione said with an air of why can’t we just get to the point, guys? “They think it might be nice for a change to skip class for the fun of it.”

“They?” Ron crossed his arms and gave Hermione an unbelieving look.

“And,” Hermione continued, ignoring Ron. “I happen to agree with them. Just this once. Because we can, and to take your mind off of things.”

“So, what do you say? Want to ditch school for the day?” There was a devious glister in Seamus’ eyes as he looked at Harry. “Unless you’d rather spend your morning brewing potions with Malfoy that is, of course.”

For a moment Harry was tempted to tell his friends the truth. That being close to Malfoy, possibly even talking to him, was something he’d much rather do at that moment than skip class with his friends.

But then he remembered that he didn’t live in a fantasy world, and that being near Malfoy now would probably be horribly embarrassing and awkward. Suddenly spending time with his best mates seemed like the best idea ever.

“Of course he does, why are you even asking?” Ron rolled his eyes and plopped down on the sofa next to Luna. “This is gonna be fun.”

It didn’t take long before Harry found out that skipping class with his friends wasn’t fun. It was amazing. The combination of Dean and Ginny, who’d arrived soon after Luna, had quickly led to the two of them organizing a design competition for ugliest christmas sweater.

They split up into teams, with both captains fighting over Luna and Neville the most. By the time it was noon half the common room was covered in yarn, quidditch gear, christmas ornaments and glitter, and Harry’s stomach hurt from laughing too much.

They had to call the competition off for a moment then, because some of their fellow eight years were returning for lunch. But they didn’t sit on their hands while that happened, of course not.

Ron and Neville had taken up the noble task of fetching food from the kitchens while Dean was trying to teach Hermione how to sketch, using Seamus as a model. That was quite a bad idea, because telling Seamus to ‘act sexy’ led to some very weird posing positions. At one point he even tried to do a seductive dance, which ended in a burned down set of curtains and a broken coffee table.

Meanwhile Harry sat down between Luna and Ginny to open his advent book, as soon as his laughter-induced tears had dried. Luna seemed to be even more excited for that day’s gift than Harry was, but Ginny acted so nonchalant about the entire thing that it made Harry suspect that he might be sitting between two strangers.

Ginny would definitely be able to insult him the way the stranger did at any rate, which she playfully kept on proving throughout the day.

Dear Harry,

One of the best things about christmas is not just getting together with friends and family, but also reliving the memories of past christmases. Every arts and crafts angel from when you were six, or nativity scene going back generations, comes with the joy of remembering that one time your uncle burned the custard, or the time you saved a stranger stranded in the snow on the way home.

Those are precious memories, and ones I know you don’t have yet in large quantities. But with this book I am trying to make you look forward to days to come, and that includes christmases to come. It is for this reason that I gift you today something that I hope you will keep, so you can think back to this moment.

The moment I was crazy enough to go through literal days worth of trouble making you all this (and you better enjoy it, I’m not doing it a second time). The moment you felt so low but knew you were busy climbing up to higher grounds and better times.

It’s a rather small gift, but it can fit a lifetime worth of sentimental value. I hope you like it.

Happy tenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry could feel Luna and Ginny’s eyes on him as he carefully reached into the box to retrieve this mysterious gift. It was a christmas ball, made out of simple, shiny red glass. On its surface someone had artfully written make it a december to remember, in glittery frosting-like white ink.

“It’s wonderful.” Luna leaned closer to the ball, a bright smile on her face that matched Harry’s own. He’d never had any christmas decorations all for himself before, and he felt immensely glad that this first one was not bought by, but given to him. It made it all the more special.

“And not likely to last very long if you hang it in a tree here.” Ginny took the ball away from Harry without asking and began charming it with a rather difficult sounding spell. “There you go, even if Ron accidentally sits on it it won’t break now.”

Harry eyed Ginny silently for a moment as the girl stuck her wand back in her pocket. Then he wrapped her into a big hug. “Thanks Gin. You’re amazing.”

“I know.” The redhead replied with a haughty voice, but she hugged back all the same. “Now I do believe classes have commenced again, so kindly fuck off so I can beat your skinny arse with our sweater!”

Ginny shoved him off the couch, and soon after he’d brought his ball to safety he took revenge by throwing a pillow at her head. Five minutes later the couch was ruined, and Harry was hiding behind an impromptu blanket ford with Ron and Neville.

Because fighting Voldemort had been fun and all that, but this, this was a war he really wanted to win.

“What are you wearing?” Harry looked up with a big smile still plastered on his face to see Malfoy just getting ready to climb in bed, his grey eyes fixed on the winning christmas sweater.

Although ‘sweater’ might not really cover it, in the end it had turned more into some sort of dress. Or maybe toga was a better word for it. A knitted red-and-green toga covered in rainbow unicorn vomit and at least seventy tiny bells.

“Ehhh, I don’t know really.” Harry looked down at himself. “A mess I suppose.” He looked up again just in time to see the last bit of an almost fond smile on Malfoy’s lips. “Which yes, resembles me rather well, no need to remind me of what a hopeless disaster I am.”

Malfoy huffed in mock-offence. “I didn’t say anything of the sorts.”

“But you wanted to.” And not completely to his own surprise Harry started laughing when a light blush appeared on Malfoy’s cheeks alongside a very dramatic eye roll and a mutered well it’s true, isn’t it? Sane people don’t wear things like that.

“How’s your ankle, by the way?” Harry asked as he remembered the scene from the night before.

“I’ve had worse.” Malfoy replied after a moment of very awkward silence. Harry almost wanted to ask for more details, but bit his tongue when he remembered that if he asked for those, Malfoy might ask about his nightmare and he still wasn’t ready to talk about that.

“Goodnight Potter.” Malfoy gave him a curd nod when Harry failed to respond to his answer and disappeared into bed, out of Harry’s sight.

“Goodnight to you too, Malfoy!” Harry told the curtains. “And, eh, thank you, for this morning.”

“Don’t mention it.” Came Malfoy’s muffled reply from his bed. Still bearing a smile, Harry made his way to the bathroom to try and wash the glitter out of his hair. The start may have been very rocky, but today had turned out to be a good day after all. A very good day indeed.

Chapter Text

When Harry woke up the following morning, he did so in a much calmer fashion than the day before. He was rather happy about that, because if he’d woken up screaming again, he wouldn’t have been able to witness the scene that was happening in front of him right now.

It was a wednesday, meaning that both he and Malfoy started the day with a free period while their other two roommates did not. That meant that the dorm was empty apart from him, Arthur and Malfoy.

And Malfoy was currently sitting fully dressed on the floor with his back rested against his bed, with Arthur nested cozily in his lap. The furry black kitten had finally managed to melt the Slytherin ice prince it seemed.

“Hey girl.” Malfoy chuckled as Arthur rested her front paws on his chest in order to give a lick to the man’s pointy chin. “Bit of an attention seeker, aren’t we?” Arthur nudged her head against Malfoy’s cheek. “Yes, yes, I’ll pet you, don’t worry. Demanding little bugger.”

Harry went all warm and fuzzy at the sight of a smiling Malfoy petting his kitten, and when he told himself it was because Arthur was so cute, he almost rolled his eyes at himself because he knew it wasn’t true. Malfoy the evil death eater and bully muttering sweet nothings to a kitten was possibly the weirdest, loveliest sight his eyes had seen in ages.

He kept watching Malfoy make small talk with the kitten for what seemed like forever, until he leaned forward out of his bed a bit too much, and suddenly felt the hand he’d been leaning on slip away.

Oh fuck.

With a rather spectacular crash, Harry managed to fall face first out of bed, planting his cheek firmly on the edge of his nightstand on his way down. A sharp pain pulled though the left side of his face before his skull came into contact with the floor, making the rest of his head hurt as well. It had been a bit too early in the morning for quick reflexes apparently.

“Potter! What the fuck?!” Harry heard Malfoy yell, but he was a bit too occupied with falling on the floor in a tangle of limbs to answer.

He tried to keep some of his dignity by scrambling to his feet as fast as he could, but didn’t get very far as one of his legs quickly gave way underneath him, making him fall on his arse again. He’d been watching Malfoy in a rather uncomfortable position for a bit too long it seemed, and his right leg had fallen asleep.

“Ouch.” With a pained expression he tried something less changelging than standing and sat up. When he carefully touched his cheek his fingers came back covered in blood. “I am so talented.” He whispered to himself.

“Well that’s one way of putting it.” Harry turned his head to see Malfoy still in the same spot, trying to process the shock of his roommate’s dramatic entrance. Arthur was now standing in the middle of the room, looking very confused at the sight of her owner on the floor.

“Are you okay?” The paler-than-usual man asked in a slightly insecure tone, as if he expected Harry to get mad for asking. That fear made Harry’s insides squirm, because he felt a bit guilty for making Malfoy feel bad about asking a very considerate question. And because Malfoy apparently cared at least a little bit for Harry, and for reasons yet unknown to him that made his stomach do backflips.

He turned his gaze back to the blood on his fingers. “Ehhh, I’ve had worse?”

Malfoy almost smiled when he heard his own words from the night before repeated back at him. “Fair point.”

“Does it look bad?” Harry asked, feeling slightly lightheaded. Either from falling on the floor or because he was almost having a normal conversation with Malfoy, which was even weirder than watching him play with Arthur. “Do you think I need to see madame Pomfrey for it?”

“No need, I can fix that.” Malfoy got to his feet and fetched a small leather bag from his trunk. Then, without warning, he kneeled down very close next to Harry and opened the bag to reveal some sort of first aid kit. The man smelled like dusty books and something like muffins underneath that, and Harry quickly started breathing through his mouth before he got overwhelmed.

With skilled, practiced fingers, Malfoy set to work on cleaning the cut on Harry’s cheek before treating it with some sort of blueish cream. Every tiny movement, both from his eyes and hands, gave Harry the sense that Malfoy had done this a thousand times before.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” He asked without thinking.

“At home, summer after fourth year. My mother taught me when I told her about seeing Theo self-harm.” Malfoy’s tone was light, but his message was not. “Turned out to be quite a practical skill when Nott set the first trent of his life in our seventh year. Almost all the cool kids did it.”

Harry eyed Malfoy from the side, trying to read his expression and failing at it. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.” Malfoy answered without missing a beat. They were both silent then as Malfoy replaced the blue cream with pink oil, and then yellow droplets from a tiny bottle marked Skin formation enhancement, Draco Malfoy, Oktober 1998.

“Have you made that yourself?” Harry pointed at the bottle, desperate to get the tense air around them cleared a bit. He was suddenly very aware of the long history between them, and of just how different their war experiences had been.

“Yes.” Harry felt disappointed when that was all Malfoy said, which the other man must have noticed because he started talking again as he put his stuff back into the brown bag. “I’ve always wanted to innovate potions in one way or another, and I thought healing potions might be the best area to get started, given,” Malfoy had to swallow for a bit then. “Given the war, and how catastrophically stupid I’ve been throughout the entire thing and before it.”

Harry wanted to respond to that, but before he could Malfoy was back on his still slightly limping feet again, placing the first aid kit back in his trunk and heaving his bag over his shoulder. “See you later, Potter.”

And with hurried steps, Malfoy left the room. Harry felt a rather large pang of sadness once the man had left. So large even, that pang might not be the right word to describe it. But Harry pushed that feeling away because his morning had once again been so enervating, that thinking about his shifting feelings towards Malfoy was too much to ask for.

That would have to wait for a quieter, more peaceful moment. For now, getting dressed and opening his advent book were the only things he felt up for. Malfoy would have to wait until tomorrow.

Dear Harry,

If there is one thing your ginger friend got right, then it is that maybe not all, but still quite a lot of things can be fixed with tea. Exam stress, a nose cold, panic attacks, boring classes. Tea makes all of the above a thousand times more bearable.

Or as C.S. Lewis put it, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”

Happy eleventh advent day Harry,

A stranger

When Harry reached into that day's box he did so very carefully, afraid his fingers would disappear in boiling hot water. That didn’t happen though. Instead he found the cold metallic outside of a thermos flask, that according to the label provided it’s user with large quantities of milky tea.

As Harry would later find out the thing had been charmed just like Hermione’s little bag, so it could fit enough tea to feed an army. He smiled as he put the thermos into his school bag for the day. Then he straced his fingers lightly over his recently healed cheek. It felt softer than it had done before, and there was no trace left of the cut. Not even a little bit of pain or sensitivity.

Harry smiled to himself. He might have started the morning by falling out of bed, but the rest of the day still looked rather promising to him.

And that, that was a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.

Chapter Text

Harry walked into the great hall more cheerful than he had done in ages, which may or may not have something to do with seeing Malfoy get up that morning with the worst case of bedhead he’d ever seen. If Harry hadn’t been sitting firmly on his bed, he probably would have fallen off it again from laughing to hard. It had almost looked as if Malfoy had a mohawk.

“Hi Harry.” Luna greeted him as she and Ginny fell into step with him. “You look like the first glimpse of sunrise.”

“Hi Luna. Ginny.” The redhead greeted him with a brief hey before resuming the activity of half sleeping on Luna’s shoulder. Quidditch practice must have ran late the day before. Though Harry wouldn’t know that of course, because eight years were not allowed to participate in their house teams. “You look in love.”

“I am.” Luna replied seriously, making a sleepy grin appear on Ginny’s face. “Are you joining us for christmas card writing saturday? Dean said you’d like that.”

“I didn’t know you guys were writing christmas cards?” Harry said as the three of them sat down at the Gryffindor table. It was early and only a handful of students were in the great hall. Malfoy wasn’t one of them, Harry noted as he scanned the room. He was probably still busy fixing his hair.

“Oh, writing is only part of the proces.” Luna said as she helped Ginny and herself to some apples and a bottle of maple syrup. “It’s making the cards that is the most fun. We’re going to send everyone in the castle a card before christmas eve. It’s important that no one feels left out at christmas, and Hogwarts is our home, so the students are our family.”

The matter-of-fact tone Luna spoke in made Harry smile, and also realise that it was true. Though some students were more like annoying brothers, stuck up aunts-in-law or unknown second cousins, there was definitely a sense of connection between all of them. More so because they had all bonded during the horrors of the war.

“I’d be glad to help.” Harry grinned at Luna and her sleeping girlfriend. “I don’t think I’ve ever send christmas cards before. Should be fun.”

“What should be fun?” Hermione asked, barely able to contain a large yawn. She and Ron plopped down on the opposite side of the table, soon followed by Dean and Seamus.

“Helping me, Luna and some others make christmas cards for all the students, right Harry?” Dean offered.

“Don’t forget the teachers, Dean.” Luna said in an almost stern sounding voice.

“No, don’t forget the staff.” Ginny seemed to have finally woken up as she lifted her head off Luna’s shoulder, ginger hair sticking out in all sorts of weird angles on one side. “Madam Pomfrey deserves a card just as much as the rest of us, and though we might not like them, it would be rude to skip Filch and Pince. I mean it is christmas after all.”

“Of course it is.” Luna beamed at Ginny and rewarded her with a long, slowly deepening kiss. Ron looked at his baby sister as if he was about to start vomiting up slugs again. Harry aimed a grape at the half open mouth of his best mate and managed to get it right between his lips.

“Yes! Ten points for Gryffindor.” Harry high-fived Seamus, ignoring Ron’s sputtering protest.

“Boys.” Muttered Hermione as she rolled her eyes and started buttering up her toast. “What did you get this morning by the way, Harry?”

Harry lowered a second grape, which he had meant to throw at Ginny, and send Hermione a mock-accusing look. “You always ruin our fun.” Hermione shot him an unamused look. It was probably too early for sarcasm. “And I didn’t look yet, but I can check it now.”

“Anything better than watching those two.” Ron wrinkled his nose as he eyed his sister snuggle with Luna, which earned him a kick in the shins from Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes at his bickering friends and pulled out his advent book.

He might have lost Ron and Hermione as audience, but Neville, Seamus and Dean seemed interested enough. They shuffled closer so they could read along with him.

Dear Harry,

My gift to you today is something that goes against all my principles, because I believe in hard work or your own clever thinking getting you high marks, and nothing else. However I was feeling generous and I know you haven’t done anything for this yet, you slacker.

Just remember that if it hadn’t been for you being so damn cute I would not have done this.

Happy twelfth advent day Harry,

A stranger

“They’re not very nice now, are they?” Seamus noted once he’d finished reading. “Though they did call you cute, I suppose that makes up for it a little bit.”

“The stranger is always rude.” Harry shrugged as he reached inside the box. “It’s part of their charm. I hate being treated like some heroic, delicate-,” Harry stopped talking when he saw that days gift. His eyes had widened considerably. “Merlin’s balls on a stick.”

Right there in front of him was a bundle of parchment tied together with a red ribbon. The first page read Advanced Potioneering: Hogwarts Eighth Year Research project on veritaserum. Rough draft for part five; the influence of quantity on the effect of veritaserum on the body with focus on speech, assigned to H. Potter, due the 12th of january.

“What did you get, Harry?” Hermione Leaned over the table to get a glimpse of the papers.

“Nothing.” Harry answered way too quickly as he pressed the life-saving notes against his chest. The project was due two weeks after new year’s, and he should have started months ago. It was a monstrous task.

“Nothing?” Hermione asked sharply. Seamus and Dean seemed almost unable to contain their laughter as their eyes went from Harry’s shocked face to Hermione’s stern one. If Hermione found out about Harry’s negligence he’d be finished. The boy who lived killed by the woman who yelled at him for cheating and slacking off.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Neville said calmly, saving Harry from his doomed fate by replacing it with another one. “It’s erotic poetry quite clearly written with Harry in mind. Not really your genre I think.”

Harry almost choked on his own spit as he heard Neville calmly utter those words, and he was not the only one. But then he looked down at the papers again, and thought that the notes saving him from spending the entire holidays inside the library were not that far off from erotic poetry.

It brought immense relief at any rate, and the words were very clearly aimed to please him. He threw his head back and laughed. If he ever found out who the stranger was, he was definitely not telling them about this interpretation of their gift.

If only the bloody mysterious person would reveal themselves at some point…

Chapter Text

The next morning started off so incredibly dull, with no nightmares or Malfoy or even Arthur in sight, that Harry was growing nervous. It felt as if the universe was reminding him of his promise to deal with his feelings for Malfoy as soon as he’d gotten a little peace and quiet.

During breakfast he even tried to distract himself from that feeling by sitting with Lavender and Parvati. He hoped to hear them gossip about something that would take his mind away from his blonde roommate.

Not that he was opposed to thinking about Malfoy, quite the opposite really, but not hating and possibly even liking the man felt so confusing that he just didn’t want to deal with it.

Directly after the war he’d been swamped with trials and the media, then he’d been swamped with depressing thoughts and the media, and after that he’d been swamped with school and something that felt like an actual depression.

Now that he was finally starting to feel okay again, partially because of the advent book, he didn’t want to muck it all up by dealing with his less-than-hostile feelings for Malfoy. But he did sleep in one room with the man, so he could hardly ignore it for the rest of the school year. Harry might be stubborn, but he wasn’t that stubborn.

“Knut for your thoughts?” Harry startled and quickly averted his eyes from Malfoy. He’d been staring at the man as he refused to eat his lunch, debating with himself how he should think about him.

“Nothing. I wasn’t thinking.” Harry answered hastily, turning his eyes to Ginny, who had offered the knut. “Not about anything specific at any rate.”

“Hmmm.” Ginny hummed, her expression clearly showing that she didn’t believe a single word he said. “You looked like you were thinking. Mostly like you were overthinking. Life isn’t nearly as difficult as you seem to believe Harry. Stop doubting and just do it. If you fuck up you can always try again.”

“Not if you fuck up too badly.” Ron said with a mouth full of chicken. “‘Cause then you’re dead.”

“Not helping Ron.” Ginny threw a bread roll at her brother. “And don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

Ron mumbled something and turned back to his plate. Ginny glared at him for a moment before turning back to Harry with a softened expression. “Seriously Harry, you’re eighteen. you’re free to do whatever the fuck you like, stop making such a huge problem out of everything. You defeated Voldemort, you’ll be fine.”

Harry sighed, and gave Ginny a miserable look. “But that’s the thing Ginny, I don’t think I will be. I’ve been so focussed on defeating Voldemort or hiding from my relatives, that I have no idea how to go about the normal stuff. I don’t know how life works, I only know how surviving and fighting works. That’s no way to live now, is it?”

Ginny shot him a rare, sympathetic smile and put an arm around his shoulders. The sideway hug wasn’t awkward, as it had sometimes been while they’d still been dating, but sisterly. Once again Harry was incredibly grateful to have the Weasley’s at his side. “I take it no one has told you the big secret yet?”

Harry looked puzzled. “What secret?”

Ginny grinned at him. “That there’s not a single fucking person in this universe who knows what they’re doing. Becoming an adult is just becoming so good at acting that other people think you know how life works. Growing up is one big conspiracy, and no one knows how to ‘go about the normal stuff.’ We’re just faking it.”

Harry looked at Ginny for a long time then, taking a handful of minutes to process that information. “That’s actually a really comforting yet distressing thought at the same time, Gin. I can see Luna is rubbing off on you.”

“She is.” Ginny smiled and gave Harry an amicable shove to get some distance between them. “Now stop worrying about your problems and just wing it like the rest of us. And don’t forget to be a teenager and catastrophically fuck up once in awhile. That’s where your adolescence is for.”

Harry laughed and finally started putting some actual food on his plate, now that the knot in his stomach had gotten a little looser. “Will do Gin. Thanks for the tip.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When charms, his last class of the day, was finished, Harry headed up the stairs to his eight year dorm. He hadn’t opened his advent book yet, because that morning had been very dull but had also started a bit on the late side, so he hadn’t had time for it yet.

When he entered his room he was immediately grateful for arriving alone and without a sound. Because if he had announced his arrival in any way, he would not have been able to hear Malfoy talk to himself from where he sat hunched over a thick ancient runes book.

“Fucking Bert. Why is everyone in this fucking text called Bert? It’s not even a nice name.” Malfoy was fed up with his homework it seemed.

With a frustrated noise he tried to blow a lock of hair out of his face, with very little success. That resulted in Malfoy growling, actually growling, and throwing his book at the nearest wall, where it landed with a dull thud on the floor. “If I ever meet a guy named Bert I will fucking punch him in the face. Arsehole.”

“It’s a good thing that my name is Harry then, isn’t it?” Harry hadn’t been able to stop himself from disturbing Malfoy anymore. Carefully he crept closer to the blonde, slightly afraid that one of Malfoy’s other supplies might be thrown at him instead of the wall, but nothing happened.

Malfoy just slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes for a second. He didn’t look like a man about to start throwing things. In fact, he looked as if he was completely deflated. Tired to a point where breathing felt like too much effort.

Harry had reached Malfoy’s desk before Malfoy had bothered to answer, and was now standing rather awkwardly behind it. “How’s your ankle doing?”

“Fine.” Malfoy replied, finally pulling himself together a little and turning around to face Harry. “Better than the rest of me at any rate.”

Harry knitted his eyebrows together, and Malfoy elaborated. “I’m exhausted mostly. Sore muscles, dry eyes, you know the drill.”

“Maybe you could take a nap?” Harry suggested, with Ginny’s advice of just winging it in the back of his mind. And maybe I can take that nap with you? Harry’s brain supplied. He almost rolled his eyes at himself. “I mean, I was just here to fetch a book, I’ll be off in a moment, and the other two are participating in the wizarding chess tournament downstairs. So then there’s no one around to disturb you.”

Malfoy stared at him for a moment, dazzled by the fact that Harry was giving him advice instead of snarky comments or insults. Harry stared back with the same dazzlement. “Sure, that would be nice.”

Thank you, Potter. Harry added in his mind himself, though he understood why the man hadn’t said it. The words already sounded weird coming from his own brain, left alone how weird it would be to have Malfoy say them out loud.

Quickly Harry dashed over to his nightstand and removed the advent book. Then, after an awkward sleep tight Malfoy, he left the room again. Once inside the common room, he found himself a quiet corner and opened his book.

Dear Harry,

I know you, Ron and Hermione are very close, and that you’ve been struggling with them getting together. And just like I’ve said in one of my first messages to you, being a third wheel is no fun.

That is why I have gifted you today something that you can do with the both of them without feeling like a third wheel. That is because you won’t be able to feel that way, because you’ll be to busy with the activity at hand.

Or more at eye and ear actually.

Happy thirteenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry curiously stuck his hand in the box to reveal a set of folders and tickets, all for The London Natural History Museum, that apparently had an exhibition on venom at that moment. The tickets gave access to both the exhibition and a personal tour guide.

Harry grinned, and made his way to the great hall to show them to Ron and Hermione. He’d never been to a museum before, and neither had Ron. Hermione had, of course, but that woman would live in a museum if she could. They were going to have an amazing time there.

When Harry went up to his dorm again just after dinner, Malfoy was still fast asleep. Acting on an impulse, he called one of the Hogwarts house elves and asked him to put some food on Malfoy’s nightstand for when he woke up. Once a plate was ready under a stasis charm, he wrote a quick note to Malfoy again.

I said take a nap, not take a full night’s sleep without dinner you ponce. But I hope you slept well anyway

~Harry

Chapter Text

Harry wasn’t sure if he was relieved when he awoke the next morning and Malfoy was already gone or if he was disappointed. Probably the latter. With all these confusing feelings coursing through him, talking to Malfoy might be the only thing that could give him any clarity.

Feeling slightly frustrated, he pulled out his advent book, hoping to be distracted by that day’s gift. Though he didn’t think it would help much, because the fact that he didn’t know who the stranger was caused him to be frustrated too.

Dear Harry,

Material things can only offer a certain value no matter their price tag. I know this and have struggled with it because it is very difficult to give you something with sentimental value without revealing who I am, which is something I will not do because that would surpass the entire point of this advent book.

I have, however, found something in my infinite wisdom that does hold very little economic but quite a lot of sentimental value, without it revealing who I am. Or at least so I hope.

It is quite alike something else you already possess, and something which I know is very dear to you. I do not expect this to get the same treatment as the one you already have, but I do hope that it can be valued above the mere cost of the thing itself at any rate.

Happy fourteenth advent Harry,

A stranger

Harry knew exactly what to do as soon as he pulled out that day’s gift. Because it was a framed picture of him, Ron and Hermione at the three broomsticks, taken by no one less than soon-to-be Holyhead Harpies chaser Ginny Weasley.

Quick as a hare, Harry jumped out of bed and rushed down for breakfast, in the hope of finding the redhead there so he could confront her. She might not be the stranger, because they had quite clearly stated that they wouldn’t be revealed by the gift, but at least she’d know more about who the stranger was. maybe he could pry something loose out of her.

But Ginny was not in the great hall, nor anywhere else as far as Harry could see. Mildly irritated he went back to his dorm to fetch the marauders map so he could locate Ginny.

It didn’t take him very long, but it didn’t bring confronting her any closer. She was in Luna’s dorm in Ravenclaw tower, separated from Harry by a knocker that would never let Harry pass. Riddles were not his strong suit.

Luckily for him, after three hours of pacing up and down so much it chased Goldstein out of the dorm, Ginny went down for a late lunch. Harry sprinted down as soon as he saw that and caught the girl just as she was sitting down.

“You helped my secret santa.”

“I helped your what?” Ginny asked confused, though she was obviously faking that. She had to be

“My secret santa, the stranger, the one who wrote my advent book. You helped them make the book.” Harry replied matter-of-factly. “I got the framed photograph this morning, and I know you took it.”

“Which you know because you have a copy, and so do Ron and Hermione. That photo is hardly top secret.” Ginny shot Harry a funny look. “And even if I am helping the stranger, I would not appreciate it if you came to me announcing it like this. Your first reaction ought to be thanking me about a thousand times for putting in so much effort, not whatever this is.”

Harry had the decency to look sheepish, but his frustration about not getting any clues about the stranger soon overpowered that. “But then who else am I supposed to ask? Who else has this picture? It’s not Ron or Hermione, they are the worst actors I have ever seen, and Hermione would never agree to write such rude things.”

“And I would?” Ginny gave him a sceptical look, which fanished when Harry clearly showed that he didn’t believe her. “Okay fine, I might be a little rude sometimes. And I am helping your stranger for some parts, but I’m not going to tell you who he is. You will either have to figure that out yourself or live in the dark for the rest of your life.”

Harry grumbled in frustration. His options had been narrowed down to Ginny, Antony Goldstein or Neville, and none of those were actually very likely. “But I have to know Gin! They’ve been so nice to me. I’ve been feeling like shit since forever and this really cheered me up. I have to know who they are!”

“Then put that great detective-to-be brain of yours to work and figure it out.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Honestly Harry, I’ve seen some of his entries and he’s really quite obvious about it. Would take me two ticks to identify him.”

“So you really know the stranger?” Harry asked without bothering to tone down his impatience. “And he’s a him?”

“He’s a him, I know him, and I’m not going to give you any more clues. No bugger off so I can finish my eggs in peace before they get cold.” Ginny’s expression told Harry quite firmly that they were done talking, so he got up from the Ravenclaw table and walked back to Gryffindor. “And don’t forget, we’re making those christmas cards in the old charms classroom tonight!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry grumbled as he sat down. When he was almost done with his lunch Ginny came up to him again, looking rather pleased with herself.

“I forgot to mention one thing, Harry. You missed one of today’s presents, he gave you two of them today.” Ginny patted him on the head, a mock-compassionate look on her face. “And before you start doubting your detective skills, I’ll tell you one more thing. Which is that I am pretty sure that deep down you already know who the stranger is, you’re just too scared to admit it.”

That final statement left Harry more confused than ever, but he got up and headed to his dorm all the same. Another peak in the box indeed revealed to him that he had missed something the last time.

It was a leather, good quality photo book filled with magical, moving pictures of Harry and his friends that he hadn’t even know existed. It almost made him think that Colin Creevey was behind the book, but that was impossible because Colin was dead.

He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening leaving through his books, completely forgetting about the christmas cards he was supposed to write with Luna, Ginny and Dean. He snorted every time one of the photos in the photo book had a sarcastic subscript, and paged frustratedly through the advent book itself, trying to figure out if he really had known who the stranger was all along without admitting it to himself.

But in the end he grew too irritated to continue and stopped because he really couldn’t figure out who it was. Everyone was either a woman, or they didn’t care for him, or he’d never talked to them, or they weren’t sarcastic. Not for the first time that month he fell asleep frustrated and restless.

He just wanted to know who this bloody stranger was, was that too much to ask for?

Chapter Text

Harry woke up the next morning with the identity of the stranger as far from his mind as it could be. He felt terrible. Moving in any form or sort seemed like a momentous, impossible task, and his body appeared to be both way too hot and way too cold at the same time between the covers.

He moaned as he pulled a pillow over his head and tried to will the world into ending itself, so that the pounding in his head and the blocage in his nose would cease. Every heartbeat was a pulsation tangible in even the most outer parts of his body, toes and earlobes included.

“My my, is our dearest saviour not up to the job of getting out of bed? Owl the prophet, that surely must be cause enough for a national day of mourning.” Harry grumbled something along the lines of fuck off Malfoy before pulling his covers over his head again and drifting off into a feverish sleep again.

He never even realised that the person who had spoken had been Pansy Parkinson, not Draco Malfoy, but at that moment he didn’t care at all.

He just wanted the world to end.

 Next time Harry awoke it was at the end of the afternoon, with the setting sun giving the snowy world outside a gold and red glow. Every patch of frozen ground glistered in the last beams of the sun, as if nature was making a tribute to the source that gifted them their life.

Not that Harry was having such poetic thoughts as his eyes, thick with sleep, tried to focus on his surroundings. He had very little success because he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but he did hear some poetic thoughts as someone at his bedside started to speak.

“A mirage in Gryffindor colours. A light from a source long gone. Let’s hope we don’t have to read anything into that, or your days as saviour might be coming to an end more rapidly than anyone would ever want to bestow on that messy feverish head of yours.”

Harry was sure this time who had spoken, because he could see a blurry blonde figure leaning against his bedpost near his feet. Even without glasses he could see Malfoy was breathtaking to watch with his loose hanging hair coloured in gold from the dying beams of the sun.

“Pardon me?” Harry mumbled as he tried to wrestle one of his arms out from underneath the covers in the hope of retrieving his glasses. He felt better than last time he’d been awake, but it was still far from good.

“Potter! You’re awake!” Malfoy turned around and looked at him with an expression that Harry wished he could read clearly. Because if he’d been able to to that, he might have been able to answer some of his questions a lot sooner. But alas, with his impaired vision there wasn’t much hope on that front.

Then, without warning a set of cold, long fingers were pressed against his forehead. “Still burning up, I see.”

Malfoy gave him what was probably again a meaningful look, which was again lost to Harry. It shouldn’t have had to be, because he’d finally managed to get a hand out from underneath the covers. However, instead of grabbing his glasses, he grabbed Malfoy’s hand, which the man had just tried to pull away.

“Feels nice.” Harry mumbled. “You’re cool.”

“I am cool?” Malfoy asked slightly taken aback by Harry’s unexpected action.

“Yes.” Harry chuckled as his feverish brain caught up with his very dry mouth. He pushed the cold hand against his cheek. “Very.” Then he added one more word, more a question than a remark. “Water.”

“May I have a sip of water please, while I bake your fingers on my burning face? Oh yes of course Potter, anything for our dearest saviour.” Harry could hear Malfoy’s eye-roll, though he could not see it. “Do you wish to receive anything else or should I just resume my lifetime ambition of standing at your bedside?”

“Standing at my bedside sounds just fine for now.” Harry chuckled again. Malfoy’s words had obviously been sarcastic, but it wasn’t biting sarcasm aimed to hurt him. Instead it had been playful sarcasm meant to amuse and ease the fact that he felt like someone was banging against the inside of his skull with a glowing steel rod. “And perhaps if the mood strikes me I might even allow you to sit at some point.”

“Ah, how generous of you.” Malfoy replied as Harry heard him fill a glass of water, that was pressed against his lips shortly afterwards. “However will I thank you for this honorable offer?”

“Well, I wouldn’t object to a foot massage.” Harry’s mouth replied once it had stopped drinking, because his brain didn’t feel up to the task of controlling it. Malfoy snorted inelegantly, the remark finally having broken his little act.

“My goodness, Potter, you really are a bloody demanding patient, are you not?” Harry grumbled and replied by getting a better grip on Malfoy’s left underarm and twisting it ànd himself so Malfoy toppled over. As expected, the git’s entire body acted like a sack of ice-cubes and Harry could feel his fever subside a little.

He’d expected Malfoy to protest his impulsive action. Expected him to call him names, draw a line in the sand and start acting like the arch rival Harry had grown to hate in his first five years of Hogwarts.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead Malfoy froze for a moment, lying sprawled out across Harry with his limbs completely rigid. Until a few minutes had passed, and he very slowly started to relax, and awkwardly draped himself around Harry’s body.

That act surprised Harry just as much as Malfoy had been surprised by Harry pulling him onto his bed. It was only much later that Harry realised that it probably had something to do with what he was holding.

Because firmly pressed against his overheated chest, with firm, calloused fingers wrapped around it, was a pale and marred arm. It was marked with the symbol of the man who had just one year ago held such terrible power over wizarding Britain.

Malfoy had never expected anyone, least of all Potter, to clutch at his left underarm like a child clutched at a stuffed animal. As if it were something comforting, something huggable and maybe even lovable, instead of a symbol for the terrible faults and mistakes of his past.

As if being forgiven wasn't an option, but something that had already happened.

But at that moment Harry didn't think about that. Instead he pulled Malfoy's arm further around himself as he curled up for another round of sleep. And despite the fact that he hadn't used his sleep medication, he slept like a baby, with nightmares as far away from his mind as they could ever be.

Harry awoke once more that day, the absence of Malfoy’s body nearly making him think that what had happened before had all been a dream. He wished it had been a dream. Just thinking about what had happened made him blush. Had he really asked Malfoy for a foot massage?

But all hopes of it being a dream fanished when he reached out for his glasses, successfully for the first time that day, and found not just them, but also a plate of food, and a note.

Thought I’d better return the favour, and hope that you slept well too though Merlin may know why I think that.

Thank you, and get better.

~Draco

It was then that Harry realised what he had done. Hogging Draco’s marked left underarm, having banter with him as if they didn’t share a long, quite nasty history. Giving him dinner just because he’d noticed and cared, though he did not yet know in what form he cared for the blonde.

Basically, he had treated Malfoy not so much like a friend, but like a kind enough stranger. Someone you’d like to get to know better, who held potential for becoming a friend.

And Draco had done the same thing for Harry.

Draco? Harry thought confused by his own mind. He tried to rethink his previous thought, but this time while using the name Malfoy instead of Draco. Somehow that sounded off, even though it was just in the confinements of his own head.

So I care for Draco now. That is new. Or at least caring for him in a friendly way was new. In truth Harry had cared about Draco since the very first day of school, with the difference being that back then, he’d cared about how best to annoy or downright fight him.

But Harry didn’t want to fight Draco like that anymore, he knew that much now.

Gently, he pushed himself up and propped his back up against the pillows behind him. Dinner consisted out of a simple bowl of vegetable soup and some toast, the perfect light meal for a stomach that wasn’t having the best days of its life. And something that wasn’t served in the great hall under normal circumstances. Draco must have made a trip to the kitchens for it.

Smiling, he reached out for his food and slowly started eating. His appetite was non-existent, but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful and he knew that eating would make him feel better in the morning. As he ate he pulled out his advent book, and checked that day’s page.

Dear Harry,

As the time separating us from christmas ticks away, so does my patience with christmas songs. I say songs, not carols, because Christina Warbeck’s Hippogryph Holiday Hymn does not in any way fall under the musical meaning of the word “Hymn”. If it did it wouldn’t be nearly as awful.

Now, I do not know if you like these types of music yes or no, but I do know that a lot of people cannot listen to that lyrical disaster anymore without trying to jump out of the nearest window. Therefore I think that your gift for today will make not just you, but also other people happy, which is not something you mind I believe.

It will stop you and the people around you from hearing too many clicé christmas songs, and it works its magic as long as you carry it on you. It will cease working if people start singing along though, because that is the only form in which christmas songs are tolerable in my opinion.

It also does something extra when you tap it with your wand. Please be careful as you do so, it is rather delicate and even I found it to be very hard to make.  

Happy fifteenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry quickly cleared his bed from the remaining parts of his dinner and cleaned his hands before lifting his present out of the book. The last thing he wanted to do was to break the present, lest the stranger found out and would, because of that, refuse to reveal his identity.

The gift was cold to the touch, and when it came into his view he could see it was a tiny, porcelain nativity scene. It was muggle made, Harry found out when he spun it around and found a muggle store brand on the bottom.

The thing was delicate, with the only colour apart from white being some well placed golden decorations. For a miniature it was very extensive, with not just Joseph and Mary with their baby, but also four angels, six sheppards, the ox and the donkey, five sheep and the three wise men from the east.

It became clear why there were so many when Harry took out his wand and tapped the white stone. Immediately, the figurines jumped to life and seemed to take a brief moment to smile at Harry, before one of the shepherds stepped forward, turned to the others in the manger, and lifted his tiny tiny hands.

All figurines, including the animals, opened their mouths and started to sing. It was a delicate, four part version of Silent Night. The song, no, the hymn, was being conducted by the sheppard.

Harry didn’t think he had ever heard anything more beautiful than that, despite his still very much present fever blocking his ears a bit. He understood now why the stranger was so opposed to calling Hippogryph Holiday Hymn a hymn, when he was used to this sort of stuff.

After a couple minutes of listening, Harry buried himself with his blankets again and let the nativity scene sing him to sleep. He was too peaceful to be frustrated about the identity of the stranger this time, but more determined than ever to spent a full day saying thank you to the man as soon as he found out who it was.

Chapter Text

Every attempt from Harry to get dressed for classes the next day was stopped by not just Draco, but also by Ron and Hermione, who had decided to have their breakfast in his dorm. Harry thought that Ron wasn’t nearly as weirded out by agreeing on something with Malfoy, out of all people, as he’d expected. Only a few months before Ron had wanted nothing to with Draco, or Harry’s attempts to keep the man out of Azkaban.

But Harry didn’t really get the time to contemplate on the matter. First he was busy exchanging a very awkward thanks for yesterday with Draco. Then Ron tried to get him killed by feeding him too much breakfast food. After that both the general awkwardness of needing to explain to his friends what he was thanking Draco for, and the large meal he’d just consumed, caused him to crawl under his covers with no desire to ever get out of bed again.

He slept until it was nearly lunchtime. Then he spent several minutes doubting if he should open his advent book now, or if he should try and sneak out of his dorm. In the end he decided in favour of the advent book, because he feared his friends would hand him over to Pomfrey if they caught him out of bed, and he really didn’t want that.

The hospital wing was not a place of happy memories for him.

Dear Harry,

Giving you items of clothing trice in one advent might send you a signal, and I actually hope it does. Your fashion sense is appalling, there’s really no other word for it. But I do think that if you’re going to completely ignore all normal clothing etiquette, then you should at least enjoy whatever horrible potatoe sack you’ve decided to wear that day, and you don’t seem to be doing that.

So, instead of actual fashion advice, which would require much more time and attention than I can ever give you, I figured I could give you this. At least you’ll enjoy wearing it.

I would advise you to not wear it all at once, but knowing you that will only result in you actually wearing it all at once. So, please Harry, do wear it all at once.

Happy sixteenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry honestly couldn’t bring himself to be pissed at the stranger for insulting him, because the person had managed to make him laugh even though he felt like absolute shite and that deserved some credit.

Still snickering Harry reached into the book and retrieved his gift. Or rather, one of his gifts, because that day’s box was fuller than any of the other boxes he’d gotten so far. And all of it consisted out of items of clothing, every item stranger than the one before.

There were pants with two colours, knee-high rainbow socks with lights in them, a beanie that read I don’t believe in humans, a see-through shirt with a spider on it, fluorescent leggings depicting some sort of constellation, a lilac bucket hat, and terribly tight looking silver shorts.

But the strangest one by far was a white, fake fur jacket with variously coloured LED lights in it. The light rapidly changed colour and made him a bit dizzy. The carment was so disgustingly ugly that Harry couldn’t do anything but burst out laughing. It was too absurd to exist. Even Luna would give him a weird look if he came out wearing that.

“Enjoying yourself, Po-” Draco, who had just entered the dorm to get his books for his afternoon classes, stopped talking when he saw the mess on Harry’s bed. It was covered in clothes, and as of two minutes ago it also contained Arthur, who was having fun with the silver shorts.

“It- It-” Harry tried to say something as he pointed at the fur jacket and failed. Tears were streaming down his face as he let himself fall back into his pillows. “Glowy.” He eventually hiccupped, holding the illuminative jacket out for Draco so he could see for himself.

“What the fuck?” Draco took the jacket from Harry and turned it over in his hands. “What even is this? Why does this exist? Why would anyone make this?”

Harry shook his head, indicating that he had no idea, and covered his face with his hands. Seeing Draco with the muggle clothing items was too much for him, especially when he suddenly got the mental image of Draco wearing the items.

It took several minutes before Harry was done laughing and Draco was done being utterly confused by muggle fashion. By that time Harry’s stomach hurt and Arthur had claimed the jacket and had started playing with the long fur.

“Does this have an explanation or…” Draco trailed, still looking slightly confused.

“I got them in my advent book.” He clarified. “Do you know what that is?”

Draco nodded, and Harry pulled out the book from underneath the rubble and handed it to the blonde. “An anonymous bloke gave it to me. I have no idea who though, but if there was a Nobel prize for gift giving, he’d win it every year.”

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together. “What’s a Nobel prize?”

“Ehh...” Harry hesitated. “I’m not really sure actually. I just know it’s a very prestigious muggle prize.”

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Draco was unable to reply to that, as not just Ron and Hermione, but also Ginny, Neville, Luna, Dean and Seamus entered his dorm. They were carrying enough food to feed an army, though it looked like they would only be feeding Harry.

He groaned and shot a helpless look at Draco, who just gave him a bemused smile in return, and handed back his book. “Later Potter. Good luck with your new wardrobe.”

Then the blonde left their dorm again, and Harry was left at the devices of the most lovable but also most annoying people in the world; his best friends.

It was late when Harry finally woke up enough to notice things. Things like Draco laying on his belly across the bed on the opposite side of the room, legs hanging off one and head hanging down the other side of the thing. It made his hair pool in a half circle on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked puzzled, his voice raspy from a lack of water, which he quickly took care of.

“Being depressed.” Draco muttered against the side of his bed. He sounded muffled, tired and lethargic.

“Why?” Harry asked then without thinking first. He held his breath as he awaited a reply. Draco would be in his full right to get mad at Harry, or refuse to talk to him. One of the things Harry liked so much about talking to Draco was that the man never asked why.

“Dunno. Life, the universe, everything, 42.” Draco turned his head a bit so his face was no longer pressed against the wood of his bed frame, and his eyes could look at Harry.

They looked sad and empty, reminding Harry of Luna just after the war. She’d been having episodes then, during which she just sat down in a corner and didn’t move for days.

Only Ginny could ever get her out of those.

“42?” Harry asked, when he couldn’t think of anything more comforting to say.

“The hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy.” Draco replied, and Harry thought he heard a hint of emotion slip back into his voice. “First muggle book I ever read. Millicent made me.”

Draco rolled onto his back and sat up, then stopped. Harry watched him for a while, waiting for him to do something, to maybe get the book or speak up again, but nothing happened. He just sat there, staring blankly at one of the walls of their dorm.

Harry didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know what to say because he knew what Draco was feeling, and knew that no words would be of any comfort. It was just something that happened from time to time, and it sucked arse tits but there was nothing to be done. Nothing but taking a deep breath and hoping that the feeling wouldn’t last for the rest of the day, week or month.

“Should I get Parkinson? Or Nott? Zabini?”

Draco shook his head. “They worry. I don’t want them to. It doesn’t help.”

“Oh.” Harry looked at his hands, that had been absentmindedly stroking Arthur, who was seated in his lap half asleep. The presence of his kitten gave him an idea, and he slowly crawled out from underneath the covers and made his way over to Draco’s bed. “Here.”

He felt rather stupid, placing the kitten in Draco’s lap, on his hands that lay there unmoving, as if made from stone. They felt made from stone. Harry shivered as he brushed past them with his still slightly feverish skin.

Draco didn’t say anything, and for a while Arthur just sat there, her innocent eyes looking up to Draco with a question in them. Why are you sad?

Harry smiled a little. Arthur was just a kitten, she didn’t know anything about being sad. She just knew about food, sleep, and getting petted. How nice the world would be, if humans had the same needs as a kitten.

“Thanks.” Harry’s been so lost in his thoughts, he’d almost missed Draco’s words. He looked up to see Draco gently stroking the black fur, his face still mostly impassive, but there were tiny cracks visible now. Some real emotions, ready to break the surface.

Harry had no idea what they would be.

“Don’t mention it. You can keep her here tonight.” Harry mentioned in a sudden burst of inspiration. “She usually sleeps next to my pillow, though she’ll be gone in the morning. Annoying Crookshanks no doubt.”

Harry had expected Draco to look up and maybe flash a tiny smile, or to say thanks again. What he did not expect, was for Draco to carefully place Arthur on his pillow, before standing up and throwing his arms around Harry in what seemed like an impulse decision.

The hug ended before Harry fully realised that it had even began, and Draco was making his way over to the bathroom before Harry found his tongue back. For a moment he just stayed there, standing next to Draco’s bed, not really sure what to do.

Then he straightened himself, and gave Arthur a stern look. “You better put your best paw forward for Draco, young lady. I’ll have your head if you don’t. That man deserves your fluffy TLC.”

Arthur looked at Harry with one eye, before she meowed and went back to sleep. Harry smiled at the kitten and then made his way back to his own bed. He trusted Arthur to behave. And if she didn’t then maybe next time Harry could take her place himself.

Chapter Text

Harry does not wake up the next day until the sun is well out and the hour nears twelve. He is glad for it, because it means that his friends aren’t there to stop him from getting dressed and attending his afternoon classes. Though maybe they wouldn’t have tried to stop him anyway, he doesn’t feel at all feverish anymore.

But before he heads down to charms, he enters the great hall to grab a big, slightly early lunch. From his friends only Luna is there, the rest is still in class. He takes the spot next to her and gets a long, warm hug in response.

“Hi Harry. You’re feeling better.” Luna smiled at him as she let go, her words not a question but a statement. “I’m glad you are, you’ve been missed.”

Harry grinned. “I’m sure you managed perfectly fine without me here, Luna.”

“Oh I did.” Luna said seriously, making Harry snort. Her pure honesty was so refreshing, he didn’t think anyone could ever feel insulted by it. “But Draco definitely didn’t.”

Harry frowned, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. He’d thought Draco’s depression episode from the day before had been a random one, but the way Luna put it that assumption might be wrong. “What do you mean? What did I miss?”

“People aren’t very nice to Draco.” Luna explained as she put slices of apple on her toast before dipping them into her pumpkin juice. “And I understand that for some people, because he put them in harm’s way, or directly hurt them or their loved ones. But some seem to think that just because of what he was forced to do in the past, they now have a free pass to do whatever they want with him. It got very nasty yesterday.”

Harry was shocked. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. No one dares to bother him when you’re around. I’d expected him to stick to your side because of that, but as far as I know he doesn’t. I don’t think he wants to take advantage of you like that.” Luna stole a grape from Harry and ate it. “Or he feels like he deserves it. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Nothing surprises you, Luna.” Ginny had arrived, and swiftly pulled Luna in a tight sideways embrace. “What were we talking about?”

“Draco.” Luna and Harry replied in unicine. Luna smiled as Harry blushed a bit, He’d never called Draco by his first name out loud before.

“Oh.” Ginny’s expression darkened, and Harry braced himself for a tirade about how awful the man had been to all and everyone. But to his surprise that didn’t happen. “I heard some of what they said from Dean. Real nasty. Even Malfoy himself wasn’t that rude and respectless as a fourth year.”

Harry’s insides twisted. “What happened yesterday?”

“Malfoy got cornered by ten or so students in the transfiguration hallway.” Ginny replied. ”Apparently they were bored and tried to do something about it by having a competition for who could make him react to their insults. Stupid game of course, and an impossible goal because Malfoy has full control of his outer emotions, and he should have just let those kids be.”

“Except he couldn’t, because they had taken his wand.” Luna sounded more angry and bitter than Harry had ever heard her. “He could have taken it back of course, but he didn’t, because he was scared that he’d be breaking his parole rules. He couldn’t go anywhere until Dean came looking for him. It wasn’t nice.”

Harry thought that not nice was the understatement of the year. His insides boiled from a protective anger that was much, much larger than he’d expected to feel. Of course he’d had his fair share of shouting matches with Draco, but those had been one on one, sometimes one on three. Never one on ten.

“That’s awful.”

“Yes it is. He said it hadn't bothered him afterwards, but I didn't believe him for one moment.” Ginny shook her head. “I mean, I know he isn't the most likable person in the world, but he's hardly an evil psycho. Besides, he's trying very hard to better himself. He didn’t deserve it.”

“No one deserves to be told that they'd better kill themselves because no one would miss them, since their presence is a nuisance to others at best, borderline harmful at worst.” Luna was tense as she spoke, and her expression made clear to Harry that words like that had not just been directed at Draco the day before, but had also been aimed at Luna during her first years at Hogwarts.

Ginny bit her bottom lip very hard in what looked like an attempt to not start crying at the sight of her lover’s deep sadness. She quickly pulled the fairy girl into a tight embrace.

Harry was at a loss for more than just words. He didn't know what to do. He knew that he wanted to yell at the fourth years, probably accompanied by some very nasty hexes, but he also knew that Draco wouldn't like that.

Draco. Harry's gut clenched as he thought about the man. About the utter sadness and loneliness in his grey eyes. Would he have believed the words of those fourth years? Was he counting the people who’d miss him if he disappeared?

Harry knew what it was like to do that. He'd done it often enough at the Dursleys. Most of the time he didn't get any further than his teacher, and Miss Figgs. And he'd never been really sure about the latter.

“Are you alright Harry?” Dean, who had joined the party together with Seamus and Neville, put a hand on Harry's arm. “You look a bit pale. Should you be out of bed already?”

“I'm fine.” Harry snapped out of his haze and got up. “I just need to talk to someone for a moment.”

“Be gentle, Harry.” Luna advised him as he walked towards the exit. He had a strong suspicion that Draco would be in their dorm.

“I will be, Luna. Thanks.” He smiled at the blonde girl, and then he turned a corner and his friends disappeared out of sight.

~~~~~~~~

“Potter. You’re out of bed.” Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry as he entered the charms classroom five minutes late. He hadn’t found Draco in their dorm or the common room, which had resulted in him spending the remainder of lunch break tracking down Ron who had borrowed the Marauder’s map the day before.

He had ended up not finding the ginger, which judging by the messy state of Ron and Hermione’s clothing had not been a bad thing, and because of that he was now late for class.

Annoyed, a little out of breath and still feeling too many things about yesterday’s events,  Harry plopped down next to Draco. “Good observing skills, ten points to Slytherin.”

Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry smirked. He was glad to see that at least the worst part of the man’s depressed episode was over now. He was less glad about the cause of said episode, but he had no idea how to bring that up. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe reminding Draco would only cause him to get bad again.

“I’m not letting you borrow my notes.” Draco noted as he eyed Harry’s still empty tabletop. “If you’re fit to take part in class, you’re fit enough to write.”

Harry grumbled as he decided that he would talk to Draco, but not during charms. He wanted to have a serious conversation and a disorderly classroom was hardly the place for one. It would have to wait until the next day, for now he would just banter. “You know, sometimes I hate how unimpressed you are by my status as national hero. I loathe drawing these diagram thingies.”

“Diagram thi-,” Draco gave him an almost offended look, as if the misnaming of the complicated diagrams was an attack on his very person. “Potter, they’re called Knowledgeable Navigational Ovals of Balance and Stability. You do know that right?”

“Why should I?” Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, enjoying their friendly banter much more than he probably should. “I’m the saviour of the wizarding world, I have people who know that for me.”

Draco shot him a disapproving glare that held no hostility whatsoever, but rather an almost endearing fondness. “You’re impossible.”

After a moment Harry snorted again, much to the annoyance of Draco who’d been trying to focus on his notes. The man turned to face him, mouthing what is it this time?. Harry took a deep breath before he trusted himself to explain it. “Knobs. The short version of Knowledgeable Navigational Ovals of Balance and Stability is knobs. Flitwick is drawing knobs.”

Draco stared at Harry then for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a few seconds. Then he put a hand over his mouth and started laughing silently into his fist so hard their entire table shook with it. Seeing Draco having a fit of giggles set Harry of as well, and not before long they were both utterly lost in it.

Even Parvati turning around and shooting them dirty looks did nothing to calm them. If anything it only made it worse.

“I hate you Potter. I’m supposed to be paying attention.” Draco tried to glare at Harry but failed because of the twinkle of laughter in his eyes.

“Nah, you don’t hate me.” Harry smirked at Draco as he steered his eyes towards the blackboard. “We stopped hating each other quite a while back I believe.”

Draco rolled his eyes at that too, but didn’t deny it. Harry felt quite a bit better after that.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry’s next and last class of the day was a double hour care of magical creatures, which Draco didn’t have anymore. It was an intense class, with Hagrid trying to teach them how to get young trestrals into the harnesses of the carriages of Hogwarts.

That turned out to be much more difficult than it appeared to be at first sight, and by the time class was over Harry couldn’t muster the energy to go back to the castle anymore. Ron couldn’t either, so in the end they decided to owl Hermione and have dinner in Hagrid's hut. It was almost eleven once they were finally finished eating and catching up.

As Harry walked back to the castle, with Ron and Hermione trailing behind because they kept stopping in order to snog, he felt pretty content. That feeling was enhanced even more when he opened the door to his dorm and found Draco on his bed, getting his fingers licked by Arthur.

“Oh yes of course you can borrow my bed Malfoy, no problem.” Harry smiled at seeing his pet and Draco get along so well. He used the time the blonde needed to recover from him surprise entrance to grab his advent book and pyjamas from his nightstand. “I’ll just sleep in your bed, then.”

Before Draco could protest Harry threw his stuff on Draco’s bed and fell on top of the covers. He eyed Draco deviantly from that position, daring him to protest. But Draco just looked at him for a very long time, his expression unreadable, before he spoke. “As long as you keep your hands off my stuff.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands off your stuff.” The last word came  out a lot more suggestive than Harry had planned, and he turned a deep shade of red as Draco shot him a weird look, before muttering you’re os bloody weird. Then he got up from Harry’s bed and made his way to the bathroom.

Harry made use of that by hiding his embarrassment behind his advent book. He hadn’t checked it for that day yet.

Dear Harry,

Christmas is drawing near and so are the last classes. As is tradition I expect that fact to be celebrated a little too enthusiastically, with too much booze, noise and awful music. Just the kind of party you enjoy if I remember correctly.

What you, and probably everyone else, enjoy a lot less is the hangover that follows, and though I usually enjoy watching people suffer though that I am making an exception for you. Your head had hurt enough to last a lifetime. Two lifetimes even,

So I think you’ll find today’s gift to be not really thoughtful, but more very practical. Though please don’t see it as an excuse to get completely hammered, because this stuff does not stop you from getting alcohol poisoning.

Happy seventeenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Not to his surprise, Harry found several vials of hangover potion in that day’s box. He was very glad for them, as he hadn’t looked forward to spending the day before christmas eve hungover.

The extra vials were labelled as for a different idiotic time/person, in a handwriting Harry should have recognized but didn’t. He was exhausted by the day.

He feared for a moment that Draco would have reclaimed his own bed as Harry went to the bathroom to get rid of the thestral smell. But Draco was fast asleep in Harry’s bed with Arthur at his side, Harry noted as he reemerged.

The sight of Draco in his own bed gave Harry a surge of happiness. But nothing could compare to the wonderful feeling spreading through him when he nestled himself into Draco’s bed and noticed the smell. Everything about the bes smelled like Draco. Like flying, fresh snow on frozen leaves, warm tea and floral shampoo administered in a hot shower.

Harry fell asleep that night feeling like a very, very lucky guy.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up and came alive the next morning not by drinking his traditional cup of tea during breakfast, but by chasing Arthur through the eight year sleeping quarters because the little menace had stolen his glasses. Half-blind and half-asleep Harry stumbled through his and other dorms, the hallways and the common room.

That earned him his fair share of glares from his fellow students, but as he was not in the possession of his glasses, he couldn’t see them. His friends refused to help him when he asked. Or rather, they answered his question by laughing very very hard and clutching their stomach as Arthur slipped through Harry’s fingers once again, making Harry fall over an armchair.

Eventually he managed to locate the little bugger on his bed, where it sat innocently on top of the covers. As well as he could without being able to see much, Harry sneaked up on the kitten and pounced.

“Fucking fuck- Potter! What the fuck are you doing?” An angry, blurry blob came into Harry’s view.

“Ehhhh.” Quickly he took the glasses from the purring kitten in his hands and put them on. “Forgetting that you were in my bed?”

Harry blushed bright red and scrambled to the footboard, so he was no longer lying on top of Draco’s bony knees. He rubbed over his ribs where he’d come into contact with the other man. When he caught Draco looking at his with the most puzzled I am very much not amused look he’d ever seen, he tried to do a better job at explaining.

“Sorry, but Arthur stole my glasses and I had to get them back and I barely see anything without them so I sort of did not spot you lying in my bed and I also forgot that you were lying there altogether…” Harry looked up to Draco rather awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Draco looked at him with a very unamused look as he rubbed his probably quite painful knees. “You’re an absolute idiot.”

“I am aware of that yes.” Harry looked down at his won knees, trying to fight an amused smile from coming onto his face. It was very difficult, because an unamused Draco looked very adorable. “You’re not the first person to say that about me to be honest.”

“I’m not-, you claim-” Draco sputtered, his still half asleep brain unable to process everything at once. But that didn’t last too long, and soon enough he was pinching the bridge of his nose in a way that made him look so disappointed in Harry, that the Pakistani man couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Draco glared at him, and leaned forward to snatch the kitten out of Harry’s hands. “Give her to me. She deserves to be in competent hands you wanker. Now get off your bed and let me have a moment of peace before needing to deal with rampant baboons like yourself.”

Harry didn’t reply, unable to contain his laughter long enough to do so, and obeyed Draco’s orders. Had he known how adorable Draco looked while looking playfully disappointed, he would have tried failing to meet the expectations a lot sooner.

Harry’s afternoon was a lot less fun than his morning. Mostly because Draco was still stuck in ancient runes class, so Harry had a full hour that he could use to psyche himself out about the conversation he still wanted to have with Draco.

He was probably making a bigger deal out of it then he should, but he felt like it was very important to let Draco know that, should anything happen to him, he really would be missed, and that those little assholes from fourth year could go fuck themselves. It probably had something to do with his childhood that he felt that way. He’d always wanted someone to intervene when Dudley and his cronies had ganged up on him, but no one ever had. And that was not a feeling Draco should have, not after all the effort the man had put into becoming a better person. Not after he’d become someone so dear to Harry, he basically considered him to be a friend.

Harry kept repeating those thoughts throughout the afternoon as he awaited draco’s arrival. The idea of having Draco as a friend became more clear and more desirable as he did so. However, that revelation did not stop Harry from getting bored and taking on the weirdest positions he could think off on Draco’s desk chair.

“That's an interesting way of sitting.” Draco entered the dorm with a puzzled look on his face as he spotted Harry half upside down on his desk chair.

“It it.” Harry nodded as he rolled off the chair onto the floor before standing up. “It’s also very uncomfortable.”

“Then why exactly were you sitting like that?” Harry could see there was an amused smile growing on Draco's face, which the other man clearly tried not to show. It made him look quite adorable if you asked Harry.

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

Draco's puzzled look did not disappear. “And that requires you to be uncomfortable because….”

Harry sighed and braced himself for what he was about to say, wiping the happy smile of his face. It was hardly appropriate to look amused while saying what he was about to say. “Because it's not a comfortable conversation that I want to have.”

Harry's words made Draco go from happy to very worried and maybe just slightly scared in two seconds flat. “I see. What is it that you want to discuss with me?” Draco's emotions were now hidden behind his Malfoy mask, and his voice sounded stiff and formal.

“I know what happened when I was ill.” Harry started. “During lunch, monday.”

Draco stiffened up further and stuck his chin in the air. “Oh, well I assure you Potter, that was nothing. Just a little-”

“It wasn't nothing.” Harry cut him off sharply, feeling his protective anger rise to the surface once again. “Don't act like it wasn't. I know what they said to you and despite what you keep saying I know that it hurt.”

Draco's face remained infuriatingly unreadable as he responded.“I don't need you to save me, Potter. I can hold my own.”

To Harry's regret he could hear the old, bullying Malfoy speaking now, instead of his possible friend Draco. Hearing it hurt, but Harry had anticipated it and ignored the flash backs. That had been Malfoy, this was Draco.

“I'm not trying to save you. I'm just trying to say that they were wrong. I can name at least twenty people who'd miss you dearly if something happened to you, with my name right on the top of that list.” Harry eyed Draco intensely for a moment, trying to spot an emotion in the marble. “You're not a bad person. You're not-”

“I am.” Draco interrupted him. There was an anger in his grey eyes that made him look more funerable than scary. Harry couldn't help but think that the anger wasn't even aimed at him, but at Draco himself. “Or at the very least I have been for a very, very long time. It might sound strange to you but I don't want anyone to overlook my past. It's part of me, part of who I am, and if I forget that then-”

“Then all hell would break loose? You'd turn evil again? Accidentally start a new terrorist group?” Harry glared at Draco when the man opened his mouth to object.

“Draco, I get that you feel bad for what you did and with good reason because you used to be quite awful. But no one is going to get anywhere when you keep hurting yourself every day with what you did wrong in the past. You're not going to turn evil because that just isn't who you are.

“You're allowed to move on. Allowed to try and fix your mistakes without beating yourself up about them every day. Hell, if I had to listen to people pointing out my faults I'd be at the bottom of the astronomy tower within a week! You don't have to be so strong and you don't have to keep it all for yourself. Just because others died doesn’t mean that you are not allowed to live.”

Harry hadn't meant to say all of that, but once he’d gotten started he really couldn't stop himself anymore. And it really was important for Draco to hear the last bit, because Harry had only started processing and healing his war wounds after Ron had told him that he was allowed to live even though others had died.

Before that he’d felt like healing his wounds and moving on from the trauma would be an insult to those who had not made it. He could only imagine how that feeling manifested itself in Draco. Probably about a thousand times worse.

On the edge of unbearable.

“Do-, do you mean that?” The haze of protective anger cleared from Harry’s vision, leaving him with the sight of a man who was battling to keep his emotions inside. And it appeared he was losing that fight. There was a tremble in his voice, and a look of disbelief in his eyes.

There was something very vulnerable in that look, and Harry almost felt guilty for seeing it. This should be a moment shared with close, long term friends or family. Harry remembered the day Ron had held a speech like that for him, and the emotional break-down that had followed once the words sank in.

“Of course I do.” Harry stepped forward and pulled Draco into a tight hug. That way he couldn’t see Draco’s face anymore so he could stop feeling like an intruder, and Draco couldn’t see Harry’s face either. A good thing, because for reasons yet unknown to him Harry was crying too.

They stood there for a very long time, with the thought and desire to let go as far from their minds as it could be. At some point Draco had whispered thank you to Harry, before burying his face in Harry’s neck. In response Harry had closed his eyes and pushed himself even closer to Draco’s chest. He felt just as save there as he’d felt with Ron at The Burrow that evening in June.

When the time of releasing each other finally commenced, they both silently agreed that they felt no need to go to the great hall right now. Instead they settled on Harry’s bed and shared a light stream of banter as they tossed a butterbeer cork from one end of the bed to the other, with Arthur in the middle trying her very best to catch the thing.

Dinner presented itself on a silver platter carried by one of the Hogwarts’ house elves, who seemed to be on friendly terms with Draco. Apparently the elf had served the Malfoy family before the ministry had confiscated most of their possessions and all of their elves and property.

When Draco finished talking about that, the atmosphere turned rather loaded. Arthur had tired out and fallen asleep in Draco’s arms and therefore couldn’t be used as ice breaker anymore. So, in order to stop things from turning awkward Harry pulled out his advent book and invited Draco to read along with that day’s message.

Dear Harry,

I know you have a bad history with these kinds of things, but I promise you they’re not all evil. In fact almost none of them are, and this one in particular, because it came from the same source as this book; Namely Santa’s elves.

There’s no specific purpose for this gift, it will serve whatever goal you see fit. Personally, I like to sketch in mine, or get the thoughts out of my head that I don’t yet feel ready to discuss with my friends.

Whatever you see fit,

Happy eighteenth advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry reached into the box and retrieved a small, green leather notebook. Though maybe notebook was the wrong word because it had no lines in it. There was also what appeared to be a muggle pencil case which fascinated Draco greatly. Harry had his second laughing fit of the day as he watched the man study a simple ballpoint pen, a marker and a gel pen.

They spent the rest of the night talking and bantering like that, and unintentionally Draco fell asleep when the hour neared ten. Harry followed soon after, a smile still plastered on his face from when he’d pulled the covers up to Draco’s chin. Emotional days were always very exhausting, but they could also be very rewarding.

And what a rewarding day it had been.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up to Draco untangling himself from Harry and sneaking out of bed. It was still dark outside and Harry couldn’t read Draco’s face, but he guessed the man was somewhere between embarrassed, nervous and shocked. A shame if you asked Harry, because he himself was perfectly content.

“Whe’re ya goin’?” Harry muttered sleepily, reaching out to try and grasp Draco’s hand so he could pull him back in bed. It was cold without him.

“Oh, Potter, I’m sorry.” Draco whispered, and now Harry could hear the man was anxious. “I did not mean to wake you, or to sleep in your-”

“Harryyyy.” Harry interrupted. “Harry Harry Harry. Not Potter. Now get back in bed.”

Draco stood unmoving at his bedside for a moment, before, “Who? Me, Harry or Potter?”

And with that, the slightly awkward fibe was broken and Draco chuckled a little. He chuckled a lot more and a lot louder when Harry threw a pillow at his head.

“Stop snarky, it’s too early for this.”

Draco laughed some more. “Did you just call me Snarky?”

“Possibly.” Harry murmured against his pillow. Sleep was still tugging at him, and he wasn’t fully aware of what he was saying just yet. “Go to bed with me, I’m cold.”

“Can the two lovebird shut up?!” Their chat had woken up Ernest Macmillan. “There are some people trying to sleep in here.”

“Sorry.” Draco whispered in the dark. Then, to harry’s disappointment, Draco cast a warming charm on him and disappeared into the bathroom. Apparently sharing a bed with Harry on purpose was still a bridge too far for the blonde.

Mildly annoyed, harry fell asleep again. When he woke up again Draco was gone, and he couldn’t find the man at breakfast either. Harry started to get worried when Draco didn’t show for their first shared class, defence against the dark arts, as well. Had he scared Draco off by being too forward?

he would have probably spend all day worrying about that, if Millicent Bulstrode hadn’t taken pity on him and told him Draco was substituting for Slughorn that day, because the old potion master had fallen ill the night before.

Relieved, and still rather cheery because he’d woken up next to Draco Malfoy, Harry joined his friends for lunch. The others were busy discussing their holiday plans with each other, and for the first time Harry was ready to join in.

He, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Luna would stay at school, because their family was coming to them. The Burrow really had grown too small for all of them to fit in, so McGonagall had invited the Weasley’s and the remaining parts of the order to get together at Hogwarts.

Neville was spending christmas with his gran, and would visit his parents on boxing day as he always did. What was different from previous years though, was that this time Theodore Nott would be tagging along as well. The Slytherin had lost his last remaining family member and father in the battle of Hogwarts, and during the first months of eight year he and Neville had started a solid friendship. Neville seemed thrilled to be bringing someone home for christmas for the first time in his life.

Dean and Seamus would have a joint christmas far away from both their families, because Seamus’ parents did not approve of their son dating a man, and Dean’s parents had gone skiing. Neither one of them really seemed to mind that they were going to be missing their families that year.

When the topic of holidays was exhausted, Neville went off to find Theo, and the three other couples promptly decided that they would rather eat each other instead of having chicken roast.

Feeling slightly left out, Harry headed to his dorm and dug out his advent book. He had contemplated visiting Draco, but decided against it when he saw Pansy parkinson head in that direction. He didn’t want to intervene with the business of old friends.

Dear Harry,

I won’t deny that your gift for today is not on but far over the line of childish, but since I know you have barely ventured into the terrain of being a careless kid, I thought you might still appreciate it.

It is a custom in the magical world to give this to a child when they need to give up their dummy. But, since you were raised by muggles I’m fairly sure that you never received one. I’m not claiming that this is a substitute for what you’ve missed, or that this will get the same sentimental value as these things usually get. I just hope that you can let yourself enjoy it, even though others might think you’re silly for having one here.

Happy nineteenth day of Advent Harry,

A stranger

Harry’s suspicions about what that day’s gift would be were confirmed when he reached inside the box and pulled out a stuffed animal. Or a stuffed niffler, to be precise.

The cross between a platypus and a mole looked positively adorable and very realistic, and it was even softer than the real thing. Harry knew that, because Hagrid had brought several to class again about three weeks back.

He grinned as he turned the toy over in his hands. It was definitely childish, but just Harry loved it more because of it. Being the nation’s hero came with an unavoidable adult stamp that he did not like one bit. This plush creature was a nice counterweight to that.

When Harry’s afternoon transfiguration class was cut short by an incident in the potions lab that needed McGonagall's attention, he decided to make use of the extra free time by walking around the great lake.

In better times he used to do that quite often with Ron and Hermione, but those two turned all giddy and romantic these days, and up until very recently Harry barely ventured outside on his own. First that had been because you could still see the rubble of the war lying around, and then because the mere prospect of needing to put on a cloak had seemed like too much effort.

Needless to say, that had not been a good time. The war had been too fresh, the wounds still bleeding, the flashbacks still happening by day and the nightmares by night. But Harry felt better now, lighter somehow.

Of course he was still hurting and grieving, but he no longer did that constantly. He now had times of laughter, of fun with his friends and since recently also Draco, and he no longer felt as if the weight of his many dark emotions was squeezing the air out of his lungs and the meaning out of his life.

These were the things going through his head as he trotted through the snow, enjoying the sight of the wintery landscape around him. He was so at peace that he barely noticed someone calling his name. Not until they were quite close, and slightly breathless.

“Potter, my goodness are you deaf?” Pansy Parkinson was standing before him, one arm pressed against her side, She’d clearly been running.

Suddenly an awful thought came to Harry, and all colour drained from his face. “Draco, is he alright? McGonagall said something about an incident in the potions lab, I never even-”

“Oh relax Potter, Draco is perfectly alright. ” Pansy interrupted him, still slightly breathless. “The incident was my brilliant Hufflepuff cousin blowing up the cauldron of some Gryffindor kid because he’d claimed that she could be walked over since Hufflepuffs never fight back anyway.”

Harry sighed in relief, and laughed a little when he spotted a hint of pride in Parkinson's expression. Apparently Draco wasn’t the only one with changed world views. “Served him right if you ask me. But if Draco’s fine, then why are you here?”

“Because,” and here Parkinson got something of a weird look on her face that Harry couldn’t really identify, “I need to talk to you. And it can’t wait until we’re in the warm common room again, so you better start walking before I freeze my tits off here.”

Harry obeyed, looking at the Indonesian woman slightly puzzled but keeping quiet. As gossip queen of the castle, Harry doubted it would take long before Parkinson would break the silence.

He wasn’t wrong.

“I am not going to lie to you about one thing, which is that I still don’t like you. Respect you, yes, like you, definitely not.” Parkinson did not seem concerned in the least that she’d just admitted to disliking one of the most powerful people in wizarding Britain, which Harry respected in his turn. Anything better than lying or having people kiss his feet.

“However, I know that for Draco matters are quite different, and I can tell that the same goes for you. And not just because your first thought when you saw me was Draco’s safety.” Harry blushed bright red at that, and Parkinson chuckled at him and shook her head. “By Persephone, you two are both such idiots.”

Harry didn’t quite follow her reasoning. How was mutual liking between him and Draco a sign of idiocy? If you asked him, it was more a sign of the eighth world wonder. He opened his mouth to say something along those lines to Parkinson, but she interrupted him.

“Look, it’s strange for me to be saying this, just as it it probably strange for you to feel this way at all, but this friendship thing that you’ve got going on with Draco is helping him a lot.” Parkinson slowed her pace and gave Harry an intense look, making sure that he understood the gravitas and sincerity of what she was about to say.

“I never expected him to be cheerful like this again. I didn't expect him to be strong enough at all to even make it as far as Christmas this year. Now, I know that there are more factors at play here, like his mother, his friends and his therapist, but I don’t think he’d still be here if it hadn’t been for your forgiveness. For your reaching out to him. I owe you for that Potter. More than you can ever know, because-”

Parkinson suddenly stopped talking and pressed the back of her gloved hand against her mouth. To Harry’s shocked surprise he saw the woman was crying a little. “Because I love him so much, and I’ve had to watch him self destruct for two whole years. Every day I got more convinced that I’d find him somewhere…”

Parkinson stopped walking all together now, and took a deep breath to steady herself. Harry would have felt awkward if he wasn’t so shocked by her words. “I feared that we’d be too late. Either because of the war or because of himself, and that fear never lifted when Voldemort was killed, or when Draco steered clear from Azkaban. I had almost stopped believing that he’d be okay someday. I barely managed to hold my own, and I didn’t even have a fraction of what he-”

Parkinson cut herself off and quickly wiped the few almost elegant tears that had fallen down her face away. Then she composed herself faster than Harry had ever seen anyone do, and focussed her eyes on Harry again. “Thank you. That is what I want to say. I doubt anyone but you could have pulled him out of there, Potter.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. His ears were ringing with Parkinson’s revelations. Of course he’d known Draco’s life hadn’t been easy during or after the war, but he’d never known just how close to the edge the man had been. And by the sound of it, Draco had only stepped away from the edge very, very recently.

And there was always a chance that he’d step forward again.

Harry thought back to his conversation with Draco from a couple days ago. My mother taught me when I told her about seeing Theo self-harm… Almost all the cool kids did it. It hadn’t really dawned on him before, but especially in Slytherin Draco was one of the cool kids.

“Is he… “ Harry started, not really sure how to voice his question. “How can I know? How can I know that he’s turning bad again? And how can I help when he does?”

“Of course he asks that, bloody saint.” Parkinson muttered under her breath. “I trust you to know how to spot his episodes. And you can do exactly what you are doing now. Give him the occasional hug and be his debate partner. Remind him that he’s not the human dumpster fire that he appears to thinks he is. Show him that you care.”

Harry couldn’t help himself, he laughed a little at Parkinson’s dry pronunciation of dumpster fire. But he stopped chuckling when Parkinson shot him a glare that would have scared Voldemort himself. “Don’t hurt him. Don’t lash out in anger and say things you don’t mean. And even if you do mean them, you keep them to your fucking self, okay? Don’t think I forgot the time your impulsiveness landed him bleeding to death on a bathroom floor.”

Parkinson straightened herself and pinned Harry down under a stern look that would make McGonagall jealous. “You hold the power to heal him just as much as you hold the power to destroy him, and you musn’t use the latter because there are a lot of people depending on him, and a lot of people prepared to slowly and painfully kill whoever hurt him. Do not break his heart.”

Harry nodded slowly, feeling absolutely awful after the reminder of what had happened in sixth year. He’d never even apologised for it. But as far as he was concerned that would change soon enough.

He had never wanted to not fuck something up so badly, except maybe for his quest to destroy Voldemort. He wanted to be a friend to Draco, to keep him safe. Keep him as far away from the edge as possible.

He didn’t even pause to think about Parkinson’s phrasing. Didn’t bat an eyelid about the fact that breaking Draco’s heart implied a love deeper than just a friendship. He was just set on sticking to her rules.

“I won’t break his heart. I swear.” To his relief Parkinson seemed to believe him. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Thank you for helping him save himself.” She crossed her arms and glared again. “This conversation didn’t happen, you haven’t seen me outside of class all day, you don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, most certainly not your friends. Don’t forget my warnings.”

Then, before Harry could react, she pointed her wand to herself and cast such a strong disillusionment charm on her body that she completely disappeared. The sheer force of it send a gust of wind through Harry’s hair, making him shiver.

But the shiver soon disappeared as he made his way around the the lake, processing all the things he’d just heard. Then he headed back to the castle again. He had a friend to hug.

Chapter Text

The clock chimed to announce the arrival of midnight. Harry took a good look at the eight year common room again, drinking in the feeling of contentedness and home . Parvati and Lavender had decided an impromptu christmas party was needed when they found out that more people than expected were leaving the castle the next day.

Now the room was filled with christmas cheer, some extra decorations on top of the large amount that had already been there and a lot of pleasantly drunk people. Harry wasn’t one of them, he’d only had two glasses of red wine during the impromptu common room dinner, but he still felt the buzz is seemed.

On the other end of the couch where Harry sat on, Ron had fallen asleep in Hermione’s arms. He looked peaceful and relaxed, and so did Hermione who was making little braids in his shoulder length ginger hair. Harry chuckled at the thought of Ron waking up with waffle hair the next day.

Though technically, it was past twelve and therefore already the next day.

A bit further away from him there were Neville and Theo engaging in a game of wizarding chess, though it seemed to have elapsed into quiet chatter now. On the carpet between them and Harry lay Dean and Seamus. Seamus had passed out after getting a bit too drunk, probably because of his parents attitude towards his sexuality hitting him quite hard with the holidays so close. Dean held him with a tender expression on his face. One that Harry believed was the purest he’d ever seen on anyone.

The sofa closest to the fire contained Luna wrapped in Ginny’s arms. The both of them were almost just as much part of eight year as the others, and no one minded their presence. The same sofa also offered a place to sit to Cho and Marietta, who were quietly gazing into the flames, both lost in thoughts that did not appear to be unpleasant.

Two other people gazing into the fire were Parkinson and Draco, and it was on the latter that Harry’s gaze lingered longest of them all. He was standing next to Parkinson with one arm around her shoulder in a friendly sideway embrace. They had been talking softly together, but just like everyone else they’d gone quiet as the clock had struck twelve.

Of course it was not yet christmas night, but it did feel that way. The light of the flames of the fire and the candles in the room danced over tired but happy faces. But suddenly Harry couldn’t help but feel that maybe he’d be even happier if he’d be in the place where Parkinson was.

He immediately felt guilty for thinking that. Only a few hours ago he’d heard first hand how hard it had been for the Indonesian woman to watch Draco self destruct without being able to help him. She deserved this, this quiet moment to let her realise that Draco was still there for her and himself, and that he had a good shot at being okay again.

It didn’t matter to Harry in that moment that Parkinson had tried to sell him out to Voldemort. She’d been frightened for herself and her family, and Harry didn’t doubt that she really had voiced the thought of many. Not because they wanted him dead, but because they themselves wanted to live.

Harry was thinking about all this as the last ressonations of the tower clock died away. But he no longer did when the sound had fully vanished, leaving a silence filled with the crackling fire, and a clear cut voice singing out the first lines of silent night .

It took him and some others quite awhile to figure out where the voice was coming from. The voice was enchanting enough to make it difficult to be focussing on anything. But as the song reached the round yon virgin line, Harry’s eyes found the singer, and with that Draco, once more.

It was difficult to see because he had his back turned, but it was clear to all now that Draco was the one singing. His voice took Harry’s breath away, especially because it was so late, so peaceful and so christmassy all around them.

Almost in awe the other students listened as Draco sang, and a great silence came over them when the final words died away. Harry had to actively force himself to breathe as he was starting to get dizzy from a lack of air. Some people around him stirred, but there was no applause.

“That was beautiful Draco.” Luna’s voice was just as much sleepy as it was dreamy, and her words made the blonde turn around just a little so he could direct a smile at the fairy girl.

Harry stared almost open mouthed at the serene expression on Draco’s face.

When Draco turned just a little further round so he could smile at him as well, Harry once again thought that he might just faint. The backflips his heart was making told him one thing for sure; He was utterly, and completely lost to one D. Malfoy.

And he didn’t mind it one bit.

Chapter Text

Okay, Harry might mind it just a little that he’d admitted to having a crush on Draco. And maybe that little bit was an awful lot.

He had known that he fancied men and women, which was why he’d given an interview on the matter to The Quibbler a month back, but liking Draco Malfoy, now that was a whole new level of self-discovery. Harry wasn’t sure if he could handle that on top of everything else.

He was still thinking about it, or rather freaking himself out about it, when Draco walked out of the bathroom. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, a careless look Harry hadn’t seen on the man before, and as always he was impeccably dressed in a set of navy robes.

Harry’s eyes went back and forth between Draco and Draco’s bed, trying to find out if Draco was up so early just because he wanted to, or because he was heading home for christmas. Somehow during the many conversations he’d had with the man, Harry had never once thought of asking him about that.

In the end he gave up and decided to just ask about it right there and then. He did so rather inelegantly, as the sight of Draco with a ponytail was more than just a little bit distracting. “Are you going home for christmas?”

Draco looked up at him, and held his gaze just long enough for Harry to realise his mistake. The ministry had confiscated Malfoy Manor and the funds that came with it in the name of war reparations. Draco didn’t have a house to come home to anymore.

“Christ, sorry, I mean are you visiting your mother or-” Draco silenced Harry by holding up one of his hands and answering the original question. He looked a bit pained as he did so, but not nearly as much as Harry would have expected him to. Maybe he was hiding somewhat behind his Malfoy mask.

“Mother is staying with Millicent’s parents, just as I have over summer.” After I got released from my holding cell in Azkaban. The words were left unspoken, but they hung in the air all the same. “I decided not to join them, because Millicent is staying here as well and without her I don’t have anyone there to talk to. My relationship with my mother is rather difficult at the moment.”

“Oh.” Was all Harry could say to that. He kept his eyes on Draco as the man rumaged around in his trunk. “I’m sorry that I ask-”

“Don’t be. If we were to stop asking questions that could potentially upset or hurt others, we might as well live in silence for the rest of our lives.” A tiny smirk appeared on Draco’s face, taking away part of the sad glister in his grey eyes. “And I don’t know about you, but I am rather fond of talking.”

Harry chuckled, but soon after a sense of panic settled in his stomach. Hearing Draco talk about his past had stirred the memory of the man he used to be. His past as bully, as death eater, as someone who really had hurt Harry. Of course some of that could also be said for Harry himself too, but there were some things that they definitely did not have in common.

Harry bit his bottom lip hard as he watched Draco pull a book from his trunk. Could he really date an ex death eater? Had he forgiven Draco enough in order to truly fall for him?

The answer to the last question was easily found. Harry only had to imagine himself kissing Draco, or walking through Hogsmeade hand in hand for the briefest of moments, before a warm feeling in his gut told him that yes, he definitely could fall for an ex death eater.

But wasn’t that wrong? Could he, being the saviour of the wizarding world and the leader of the light side, afford to fall for a man like Draco? Was he insulting the memories of the war victims just by thinking about it?

Harry felt the speed of his thoughts heighten, until he couldn’t keep track of a single one anymore and he had to leave. Had to get out of the room and find a quiet place to think, to rationalise everything he was feeling. If he didn’t he might explode, or get a full blown panic attack.

Quick as a hare Harry got to his feet and left the room. He planned to sit by the fire in the common room, but when that place proved taken he made his way into the hallway. he barely cared that he walked barefoot and was only wearing pyjamas. He just needed some space.

“Harry!” A cheery voice called out to him, but Harry barely registered it and ducked behind a tapestry in order to avoid whoever had greeted him. He didn’t feel like talking to people at all.

“Harry James Potter stop running away from me right now.” Harry’s head snapped up and he spun around on his bare heels, the cold rough floor digging into his skin. He definitely recognized the voice now, despite the haziness of his brain, and he knew he would never not listen to it.

“Hi Luna.” Harry greeted the figure bounding towards him just before the girl practically jumped into his arms and hugged him real tight. It worked immediately. Harry felt himself get grounded by the surprisingly strong grip and the reassuring weight of the person in his arms. Luna’s earthly scent helped calm his nerves as well, and after a few minutes his pulse slowed down, and his thoughts became less panicked and more coherent.

“Hi Harry.” Luna stood back on her own feet again but kept her arms around Harry’s middle, helping him stay calm through her touch. Harry found that to be rather comforting. “What’s on your mind?”

“Draco.” Harry replied without missing a beat. Luna frowned at him, and Harry felt himself blush. He didn’t really know how to explain his feelings for the blonde, and his doubts and fears about basically everything surrounding him.

“Did he do something, or did you discover that you fancy him?” Luna asked then, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Both, I think?” Harry said doubtfully. He looked up to Luna and found such a welcoming and understanding smile on her face that it enabled him to tell her everything. How he indeed fancied Draco, and how he feared that that might be wrong because of who he was and who Draco was. That he’d gotten himself very worked up about that and stormed out of the eight year dorms because of it. That at that moment he was really, really confused and stressed about basically everything.

“Ginny told me you sometimes get like this.” Luna squeezed his shoulder as Harry took a deep breath. His heart was racing again, though he wasn’t nearly as panicked as before. “And you’re being very silly. Even sillier than me, and according to Ginny that is saying something.”

Harry was too stressed out to laugh, so instead he just gave Luna a quizzical look. In his eyes his concerns were perfectly reasonable.

“People are dynamic, they change. You are not the same as you were three years back, and neither is Draco. Of course, you share memories, skills, experiences and friends with the you of the past, but a bit of new you gets born every day. And there have been many days since Draco saw the error in his ways.”

“So, you’re saying he’s a different person now? Is that supposed to make everything okay?” If that were the case, then Harry definitely didn’t agree with her. Just because he hadn’t seen the Dursley’s in years didn’t mean that he’d grand them a second chance.

“Of course not Harry. He is still the same person, but he has seen the parts of him that made him into a bad person, and he is throwing them out. Just as a new bit gets born every day, so do old parts die if you want them to. There’s still a lot of eleven year old Draco left, but those are good things like his wittiness, his sharp tongue, his protectiveness over his friends and his talent for quidditch and wizarding chess.”

Luna was looking at Harry with eyes that were more serious than usual, yet they held the same dreaminess, and he thought that maybe he was starting to understand what the fairy girl was saying. “So you mean that we shape ourselves as we go through life?”

Luna nodded. “It’s not like many people think it works, that you can just cut out the bits you don’t like. It’s more like the dynamic of a coast line. It changes depending on where you add stuff and where you take it away. But you can’t just throw out an entire dune landscape in one day, it takes time. And just like that there will still be dark parts in Draco, but they are shrinking, and he is working on creating something better. Something new.”

Luna send him a piercing look, making sure she got Harry’s attention. “Now the only thing you need to ask yourself, is whether you think he changed enough yet.”

Harry blinked slowly, letting the question sink in properly before returning with an answer. He was still confused, but slightly less so. “I think I do. He still insults me, but its nicer now. And he makes sure I eat and rest enough, that’s proof of his change I suppose.” Harry focussed back on Luna. “But what about other people?”

This time it was Luna’s turn to look puzzled. “What about other people, Harry?”

“Well, what will they think?”

Luna still looked confused. “Why does that matter? They don’t want to date Draco, right? I thought most people didn’t like him.”

Harry let out the smallest of chuckles as he heard Luna’s dry reasoning. “They don’t. But I don’t want to insult people who have lost a loved one by dating him. I think they might consider it to be offensive.”

“Well, if that’s what they think then that’s very selfish of them.” Luna replied as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “I would politely listen to them and then tell them to, as Ginny says it, go fuck themselves.”

Harry properly laughed at that and pulled Luna once again into a big hug. “Thank you Luna. You always make things very clear.”

“No, you always make things very muddy.” Luna gave a firm hug back before letting go. “I just don’t stamp into ponds. Metaphorically speaking that is, in real life I rather like it.”

Harry laughed again. He felt silly now for making such a fuss before. Now the only thing he was nervous about, was whether Draco liked him back.

“Harry! There you are!” Harry turned around to see a rather relieved looking Draco walk towards him. His fast pace made his pony tail sway back and forth, which was a sight that made Harry’s stomach do backflips. “I thought you’d be in the common room, but Millicent said you’d hurried out of there as well.”

Harry blushed, looked at his feet, and then blushed some more. His toes were covered in grey dust and his sweatpants looked very out of place outside of his dorm. “Yeah, I, ehhh, had a bit of a panic. Sorry about that.”

Draco sighed. “Don’t apologise for needing some air. It happens to the best of us.”

“Well then you can’t have had much experience with it, now, can you?” Harry playfully elbowed Draco in the side as they walked up together towards the common room.

“Ha ha ha, very funny Potter.” Draco glared at him, but it was more with amusement than anything else. It made Harry bite his bottom lip as his stomach filled itself with butterflies. Now that he’d admitted to himself that he fancied Draco, and that that attraction was okay, he suddenly found the man to be even more attractive than before .

Probably because he was finally allowing himself to notice the little things, like the tiny soft looking hairs around the nape of his neck. How sharp his cheekbones really were. How he never kept his hands still, and how good he looked in navy robes.

“What are you looking at?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

Nothing. Harry’s mind said. “You.” Harry’s mouth replied. He immediately looked away, feeling as if his face were on fire. But it was too late to take it back now that he’d said it. He cursed under his breath.

“Ah.” Was all Draco said to that. Harry died a little bit from embarrassment and shuddered. The cold of the castle was finally getting to him, and a mountain of goosebumps appeared on his skin. Silently, Draco reached out to him and pulled him into a sideway hug as they kept walking.

Or at least, as Draco tried to keep walking, because Harry had frozen on the spot when faced with Draco’s touch. The silent you are cold now because you panicked before, and I’m not going to make fun at you for it, I am going to help, sent his brain into overdrive before it crashed spectacularly. It made the things around him start to buzz in the same tempo as his thoughts had been running before, and it made him feel a bit dizzy.

“Are you alright?” Draco asked as he let go of Harry just a little so he could look at him. “You look a bit pale.”

Harry was unable to answer Draco’s question as he was still fighting the dizziness. The concerned look he got from Draco didn’t help with that much either, as it made him feel like he was flying. But the very moment his eyes met Draco’s, he felt himself get rooted to the ground, and he finally managed to get his brain to work again.

Or at least it was producing somewhat coherent thoughts now. Sadly the same could not be said for his speech. “No, uhm… it's nothing really, I just…”

Draco’s concerned look intensified. “You can tell me, Harry. This isn’t my first rodeo, I know what it’s like.”

Harry suddenly felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it. Of course he could talk to Draco about things like panic attacks, the man was possibly the only one with just as many war traumas as he had himself.

Feeling relieved after that realisation he managed to speak without stumbling this time, and the butterflies took over his other senses again. “It’s nothing really, I was just being a bit of an idiot.”

“No different from usual then.” Draco chuckled a bit, but he still looked very tense. Harry narrowed his eyes as he contemplated the best strategy to banish the worry from the face in front of him.

“What?” Draco seemed confused by Harry’s staring. Harry looked up to Draco, with the only thing on his mind being pressing their lips together. However, he didn’t want to do something like that if Draco didn’t like him that way. He didn’t want to ambush the man.

He sighed, and braced himself in order to ask one of the hardest questions in his life. The one question he hadn't been sure he could ever ask him. The one that could destroy the happiness he’d gathered over the last weeks with so much pain and effort. The one that could amplify that happiness by a thousandfold.

“Nothing.” Harry bit his bottom lip and looked up at Draco through his eyelashes, in a probably quite pathetic looking attempt to appear seductive. “Can I kiss you?”

For some terrible seconds nothing happened. Draco just stared at Harry with the same tense, concerned expression he’d worn before. Then the most brilliant smile broke his face. It looked even better than the one from the night before, if such a thing was even humanly possible. “Yes of course you absolute idiot.”

Harry practically leaped forward and pressed their lips together, and that was probably the best decision he’d ever made. Draco’s lips were soft and welcoming, and they had something enchanting about them that Harry couldn’t quite pin down, which made that he never, ever wanted to pull away again.

They stood there for a while, bodies pulled close together as Draco pulled Harry into a proper hug, just breathing in each others air and enjoying the liberating feeling of getting something they’d both been craving for so long.

Harry kept his eyes closed as he let his hands wander from the small of Draco’s back to the nape of his neck. He was very tempted to grab hold of the ponytail, but he wasn’t sure if Draco would allow that. Merlin knew the guy was protective over his hair.

Harry laughed against Draco’s lips as he thought about the fuss Draco always made over his hair, and about the fact that he might be allowed to watch said fuss in the bathroom if they actually became an item. As a result of Harry’s laughter Draco pulled back a little and shot him a questioning look. “What?”

“Nothing.” Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco again, lightly biting Draco’s bottom lip in the process. “I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Being ‘just happy’ isn’t nothing Harry.” Draco’s hands came up to cup Harry’s cheeks. “It’s everything.”

Harry spend the rest of the day saying goodbye to friends who were leaving the castle for christmas and shooting cheeky smiles at Draco. The fact that Draco kept blushing every time Harry did that did not make him do it any less.

“By Merlin’s dirty underpants, get a bloody room you two!” Harry looked up from the comfy sofa in the common room where he’d been eyeing Draco, only to get a pillow thrown into his face by Ron.

“They already have a room.” Ginny said as she shot Harry a knowing look, making him blush a rather stunning shade of red.

“Yes, my room to be precise.” Ernest Macmillan noted. “I have never been more thrilled to spend christmas well away from here.”

“But we're not-” Harry tried. He and Draco had agreed to keep whatever it was that they had a secret for now, in the hope of preventing drama. But apparently their plan had failed quite spectacularly as a chorus of students huffed or rolled their eyes or yelled shut it Potter, you’re basically married to the git already.

“I am leaving.” Draco announced after that last comment, his face almost matching Harry’s when it came to redness.

“Well go on then Harry, follow him.” Hermione nudged him with her foot from the sofa opposite of his chair.

“I am not-” He tried again, but it sounded weak even to his own ears now.

“Don’t even try it mate.” Ron shook his head. “We heard it directly from Luna. She saw you two kiss.”

That took Harry aback for a moment. “So… You guys know? And you’re okay with it?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a knowing look, just before Hermione answered. “Of course we are Harry. He made you happy when even we couldn’t do that.”

“Of course he’s still an asshole and a git.” Ron continued, earning himself a warning glare from Hermione. “But he’s not exactly evil now, is he? So yeah,” Ron shrugged. “We’re fine.”

A large grin appeared on Harry’s face and he hugged both of his friends. He hadn’t even realised how much he had feared their reaction until it turned out positive. “Thanks guys.”

“You’re welcome Harry.” Hermione told him, and Ron mumbled something along the same lines. Harry grinned again, before getting up and heading towards his dorm. He only barely managed to stop himself from running.

“So much for keeping it a secret, ey?” Draco said without looking up from where he sat on Harry’s bed, playing with Arthur.

“Yes, sorry about that.” Harry felt his mood sink a bit. For him it was fine if others knew, no one would harm him anyway, but for Draco things were quite different. He didn’t know how big the backlash would be for Draco, but he knew there was definitely going to be one.

People telling him he was unworthy, blaming him for taking the saviour off the market, accusing him of turning Harry gay. And then he didn’t even mention the reaction of the pureblood community as a whole, who would surely kick Draco out even more than he already was.

Draco sighed. “It is what it is, I suppose.”

“And what is it exactly?” Harry asked as he edged towards his bed, still not sure if Draco was upset or not.

“New, thrilling and very very public.” Draco looked up but Harry had no time to register his face before he got pulled in for a kiss. It was a lot less calm and gentle as the first one they’d shared, but Harry found that he didn’t quite mind that.

There was, however, someone in the room who did mind it quite a bit, and who was very vocal about it. Arthurs Meows sounded just as grossed out as Ron’s get a room you two! from a few moments before. Both laughing, Harry and Draco broke apart to look at the tiny cat.

“Don’t tell me your homophobic, now, Arthur.” Draco said sternly. “I was just beginning to like you.”

“Bullshit.” Harry huffed. “You adore that cat. I’m pretty sure that if she were yours, you’d pet her bald within a week.”

“I would do no such thing!” Draco cried out in mock offence. “I am just as careful with fur as I am with hair. I would never destroy it.”

Harry opened his mouth again but before he could protest someone else already did it for him. Arthur meowed again and shot both of them an accusing glare.

“I think Arthur is jealous.” Draco noted.

“And rightfully so.” Harry tried to smirk at Draco, but failed and accidentally let it morph into a happy, very goofy smile. Draco seemed to have the very same issue, which resulted in the both of them getting a claw in their arms after they started snogging again.

“Ouch! Bloody cat!” Draco rubbed his slightly damaged skin.

“Arthur stop that!” Harry glared at the kitten and grabbed his advent book. “You either go and annoy Crookshanks or I’m putting you back in here.”

Arthur seemed to contemplate the two options for a moment, before deciding on the first and leaving the room. Harry let out a relieved sigh and turned back to Draco, who was eyeing the advent book.

“Do you want to see what’s inside for today? I haven’t checked it yet.” Draco nodded and took the book over from Harry. Together they read that day’s message.

Dear Harry,

Again your gift exist out of clothing today. I know, I know, I am getting repetitive, but this is something you want to own, trust me. Or at the very least it is something that you should own.

I had it tailored, and before you freak out, no, I did not measure you up while you were asleep, but I asked one of your friends. How they got your measurements is not my problem.

I hope you’ll enjoy wearing it more than you do now when you wear your official robes.

Happy twentieth advent day Harry

A stranger

Harry pulled that days gift out of the box and with that he revealed a gorgeous deep-blue muggle suit, tie and shiny Oxfords. The fabric was soft and solid, and looked much more comfortable than his official robes.

“Interesting.” Draco said as he eyed the clothes. “But that was hardly why you chased Arthur out of the room.”

Harry wanted to argue with that, because he hadn’t chased Arthur out, not really, but the words died in his throat as he looked back at Draco and his slightly swollen lips. He quickly put the suit away and focussed back on Draco.

“No, it hardly was.”

Chapter Text

Harry woke up in a dorm the next day that was empty apart from him and Draco. He smiled as he thought of that and threw his curtains open so he could see the beautiful mess that was Draco’s hair in the morning, in the bed on the other side of the room.

They hadn’t slept in the same bed that night, because Draco was not entirely comfortable with it. He’d assured Harry that it had nothing to do with him, and everything with the pureblood traditions he’d grown up with. Harry didn’t press the matter despite the fact that he and Draco had shared a bed before, because the last thing he wanted was for Draco to get uncomfortable.

Harry was a bit nervous that Draco would get uncomfortable anyway, because Harry had grown up more than a little touch starved and that had made him very cuddly. It was for this reason that Harry made his way over to Draco’s bedside, but didn’t do anything once he’d gotten there. He just stood next to the sleeping man, watching his chest rise and fall.

It was a beautiful sight, though not in a conventional way. Draco drooled a little and his mouth hung half open. His legs lay in a weird half split under the covers, and like harry had expected, his blonde locks looked more like Einstein’s usual hairdo than anything else.

Harry loved seeing Draco so relaxed, so care and stress free. He hoped to one day be able to let the man relax while he was awake. Harry might be able to let go of his stress and anxiety when he was with friends or just on his own, doing something that he liked, but he had noticed that things were not the same for Draco. He always seemed tense, on edge, even when he was bantering and laughing with Harry, there was always some part of him that held back. That didn’t allow him to fully let go.

But that part clearly wasn’t present while Draco was asleep, Harry noted happily as he heard Draco snore a little. It was the cutest of sounds, and made Harry’s already full heart nearly burst with love. He’d never thought it was possible, but Draco was even more adorable than Arthur.

“Stuh.” Draco mumbled suddenly, shifting a little under the covers before groaning loudly, but mostly very very long. Harry’s goofy smile grew wider and he had to bite his lip and grab his own sides in order to stop himself from jumping on top of Draco and kissing him senseless.

“What did you say?” He whispered when he trusted himself enough to release his bottom lip from between his teeth. “Are you awake?”

“Stop staring.” Draco mumbled as a response. He Hadn’t opened his eyes, but Harry was not surprised that his gaze had been so intense that Draco had felt it in his sleep. Before Harry could apologise for waking him, Draco pushed part of the covers back, inviting Harry to get in.

Or at least that’s what Harry hoped it was. It better be, because he didn’t have much self control left, and he doubted that Draco would like it very much if Harry pounded on him out of the blue while the man was still half asleep.

Quickly, Harry lifted the covers a bit more and lay down, face to face with Draco. “Is this okay?” He whispered, not sure what the pureblood etiquettes were for situations like these. In fact Harry didn’t actually know anything about pureblood etiquette at all.

“Turn.” Draco replied, and he pushed against Harry shoulder blade until Harry had his back turned to Draco. Then the blonde wrapped his arms around Harry from behind as if he were a stuffed animal, and buried his face in Harry’s neck. “You smell nice.”

Harry wanted to laugh at that, but he didn’t quite manage it as his body was too filled with amazement. He was spooning Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was letting him be the little spoon. Harry thought that if he were to die right there and then, he would die a happy man.

He kissed Draco’s knuckles, and hugged his slender arms.

“Thank you.” He managed to bring out after several minutes had passed, but harry suspected that Draco didn’t hear him. He’d fallen asleep again.

When Harry felt something nudge at his side, he groaned in protest and pulled his pillow over his head. He may have woken up pleasantly to the sight of a sleeping Draco before, but now he’d been in the middle of a very, very deep sleep and wanted all and everyone to fuck right off. Even Draco.

“We’ll miss breakfast if we don’t get up now.” Draco poked him again, and Harry snapped his hand away in response.

“No.” he simply said then, barely containing the stream of swear words that wanted to come out afterwards. He didn’t want to scare Draco off.

“Yes we are Harry, come on.” But Harry just groaned some more and pulled the duvet over his head until he was completely covered by it. “Fine, have it your way you grumpy old bear.” Harry could hear Draco roll his eyes, and despite his exhausted state, he still smiled a little at the comment. He rather liked being a grumpy old bear.

The third time Harry woke up that day it was light in his dorm. A dorm which, to his disappointment, proved to be empty once he’d summoned his glasses and looked around for a bit. He thought he remembered Draco saying something about breakfast, and briefly contemplated if he should get up and join the guy. But he decided against it when he realised that that action would require him to get out of bed, and he didn’t much fancy doing that.

It probably wasn’t true, but still Harry held a strong suspicion that Draco’s bed was more comfortable than his. It definitely smelled better. He rolled over again and tried to fall back asleep, and when that didn’t work he pushed himself up and summoned his advent book. If he wasn’t going to leave the bed, he might as well give himself something to do.

Dear Harry,

This project is coming to an end with this gift, so I wanted to make it a good one. I wanted to give you something to remember. I started all of this because I wanted to help you get out of bed in the morning, or to make you laugh. I am not sure if this gift will help with the former, but the latter will certainly feature plenty in your present.

I hope that the daily gifts have somewhat helped you find the joy back in your life. You used to have so much of that, even when the circumstances didn’t really allow for it. Your passion to help others even when they weren’t deserving of it inspired me to give this to you.

It’s not something to thank me for, because I wasn’t doing it on my own and I made it because after everything you have done for us, it was time that we did something back.

It’s a very small token of love and appreciation compared to everything you sacrificed for us, but if all the little pieces fall together it might show you a glimpse of our gratitude.

See this as a thank you for the things you have done.

I, and so may others with me, wish you a very, very happy twenty first advent day Harry,

A stranger

Harry was slightly choked up as he read the letter again while he absentmindedly pulled out his gift. He hadn’t realised yet that today would be the last day of his advent. The last day that he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that no matter how shite he felt, at least there would be a thoughtful gift waiting for him.

The upcoming week of christmas celebrations and new year’s suddenly felt very daunting again, just as it had before. He hadn’t missed that feeling of anxiety in his gut.

But, he reminded himself, he had one more present left. The one that was currently lying in his right hand, waiting to be seen. Harry took a deep breath, and looked what it was.

And suddenly everything fell into place. Or maybe not everything, but at least quite a lot. In his hand lay a battered paperback version of The Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, complete with a whole list of names inside the cover of its previous owners. The bottom two had been carefully removed, but Harry didn’t have to be able to read them to know what they were.

Millicent Bulstrode and Draco Malfoy.

“Sorry that it took so long, I had a run in with Pansy.” Harry looked up to see Draco walk backwards through the door of their room, carrying a breakfast tray in his hands. “But I brought breakfast for…” Draco looked up and the rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat. “Oh.”

Harry and Draco stared at each other, neither one of them making a sound. The only things audible in the room were the ticking of a nearby clock, and the cogs turning in Harry’s head as bit by bit everything fell into place. Everything except for one problem.

“But you don’t have any money.”

“Theo sponsored me.” Draco answered shortly, before turning his gaze to the floor. It surprised harry, because he couldn’t think of a single thing that could possibly embarrass Draco. “And it wasn’t just me, Millicent, Luna and-”

“Put that tray down.” Harry threw the covers away and hopped out of bed. “Put it down so I can fucking hug you okay?”

Draco obliged, and Harry slammed so hard into him that he knocked both of them to the ground. Now that he knew it was Draco, he felt absolutely stupid for not seeing it earlier. But he wasn’t as shocked as he thought he would be. Maybe Ginny had been right, and he had known it for longer, but just never dare to admit it to himself.

As he tried to process all of those thoughts, he wrapped his arms so tightly around Draco that he feared it might hurt. But he couldn’t not do it either.

“Thank you.” He whispered against the crook of Draco’s neck, before whispering it a thousand times more. “Thank you so so much.”

“But it wasn’t-” Draco tried, but Harr wasn’t having it.

“Shut up.” Harry released Draco from his choke hold in favour of cupping his cheeks. Draco looked a bit bewildered by this sudden affectionate attack from Harry, but he seemed to relax a little as Harry moved back so they could sit up, with Harry nestled on Draco’s upper legs. “Just let me kiss you okay? Let me do something back.”

Harry pulled Draco in for a tender kiss, his lips almost shaking with the desire to transfer all that he was feeling to Draco. The man had to know how grateful Harry was, how much he appreciated all the time and effort he’d putten into this. Then Harry moved sideways, leaving a trail of kisses along Draco’s jawline, his neck and his collarbones.

Meanwhile Draco tried to speak again. “You don’t have to do anything back Harry. You already-”

“Shush.” Harry abandoned his quest to kiss every part of Draco he could reach in favour of looking into his grey eyes. “I want to do something back. I need you to know how much this means to me.”

Harry pulled Draco into a hug again, but it was much less firm than the first one. “I grew up receiving used toothpicks for Christmas, and then you show up giving me this. I felt so lost before, panicked as I searched a way out of the aftermath of the war, afraid that I’d never find it, that I’d never be able to escape its clutches.”

Harry took a deep shuddering breath as Draco started rubbing soothing circles on his back. “You showed me a way out. You made me look forward to things again. You-”

But Harry’s throat, swollen with emotion, didn’t allow any other words to come out. So instead of talking, they just sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s close proximity. Harry was sure he would have dozed off if it hadn’t been for the fact that his stomach was still empty, and that the organ vocally reminded him of that fact.

“Breakfast?” Draco asked, pulling back a little to see that Harry’s eyes were still red, but that he was no longer crying. In fact Harry was smiling now. Smiling rather wickedly, because Draco Malfoy had turned out to be the best sodding boyfriend in the entire universe.

“Yes please.” Harry got up and pulled Draco to his feet, kissing him once he’d succeeded. “And thank you.”

“You’re going to keep saying that forever, aren’t you?” Draco asked in an annoyed tone, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“Only one way to find out.” Harry smirked and kissed Draco again, longer this time. Deeper. “Stay with me?”

Draco clearly tried to fight the grin that was appearing on his face, but it was a losing battle. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

Hey guys! I thought I would add this chapter to let you guys know I made another christmas fic in this universe! You can find it here

merry christmas everyone!