Careful Who You’re Caught With - Part 1
Ok, I'm horrible. I can usually knock out a ten-page chapter in a couple of hours, but I haven't even started planning the fifth chapter of Starts With a Spin yet because I have been studying. But I need a break every so often, you know? So I started writing this during the breaks that I took, and then I spent awhile today finishing it up, since it's Saturday. Anyhoo, so now I have this thirty-page H/D Christmas fic to offer to you all! Sorry there's no new SWAS yet, but I hope you enjoy this all the same! New SWAS should be up next weekend at the latest.
Title: Careful Who You’re Caught With
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor/Romance/Slash
Rating: PG-13 to R
Pairing: H/D
Disclaimer: It’s JKR’s, and she’d best hurry up with that next book!
Summary: A Christmas present from the Weasley twins, two D.A. parties, several fights, and of course, mistletoe! This holiday season is shaping up to be slightly better than 5th year's, even if the person Harry'll be kissing isn't exactly who he expected.
Oy, it doesn't all fit into one post, so it's in two parts.
~~Careful Who You’re Caught With~~
“Oy, Harry, look!” Ron exclaimed, shoving a package under Harry’s nose the day before winter holidays began. The green-eyed boy flinched back, trying to get a glance at what he was so forcibly being shown.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Not sure. It’s a present from Fred and George. It’s addressed to both of us,” Ron replied, holding the box next to his ear and shaking it. “It doesn’t sound like much.”
“Well, I hope it’s not breakable,” Hermione commented lightly, reaching across the table to take it from him. She set it down on the table so they could all stare at it.
“Why don’t we open it?” Harry suggested.
“We can’t! It’s not Christmas yet!” Ron exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“How about reading the card they sent, then?”
“What card?”
“The one that says ‘OPEN NOW’ in big red letters,” she said dryly, pointing it out to the boys.
“Oh,” Ron said sheepishly, while Harry chuckled. Ron quickly picked up the rolled up letter from where the owl had dropped it in the middle of the table, and scanned it briefly. “It’s the latest of their holiday products,” he reported, still reading. “We’re supposed to open it right when we get it… They said they expect us to put it to good use, but to be careful about whom we get caught under it with.” Finished, he dropped the letter back onto the table, and picked up the package again. “So what the bloody hell is it?”
“Ron!” Hermione admonished, but the boy ignored her, already digging into his gift.
“Well, what is it?” Harry asked excitedly, peering over Ron’s shoulder after he’d stilled, looking curiously into the box.
“It’s…it’s…some leaves?” He pulled out a small twig of leaves that looked painfully familiar to Harry, and gazed at it in confusion.
“It’s mistletoe,” Harry said flatly, as Hermione opened her mouth to supply the answer. She looked put-out that he’d already known.
“Mistletoe!” came the surprised answer. The red-headed Gryffindor hastily dropped it back into the box. “Why would they send us THAT?”
“Thought they’d send some holiday cheer?” Harry suggested. He picked up one of the sprigs, noting that there were two in the box. “I guess we each get one. They said it’s a product of theirs, though. Wonder what it does.” Not thinking of any possible consequences, he started to hold it above his own head, but Ron quickly grabbed his arm.
“Don’t do that!” he hissed, looking around warily. “You have no idea what they’ve done to it! It could…could…it-”
“Yes?” Harry looked amused.
“Well it could put whoever’s under it in a…love…trance…or something,” Ron finished weakly. Harry blinked. “Oh, I don’t know! Fine, screw yourself over.” He crossed his arms grumpily, and looked expectantly at his fellow Gryffindor. Though, admittedly, Harry was now a bit worried as to what would happen. He glanced around, eyes landing on the Irish boy sitting next to him, and reached up to hold the mistletoe above the boy’s head.
“Cheers, Seamus!” he said cheerfully, and the boy looked up, before grinning.
“Aww, mistletoe!” he exclaimed, turning to smile at Dean, who Harry hadn’t realized was sitting on Seamus’ other side. “Happy Christmas, Dean!” Seamus grinned again, and leaned forward to smack a kiss on the black boy’s cheek.
“Augh!” Dean cried, nearly upsetting his oatmeal. “What was that for?” He reached up and rubbed absently at his cheek.
“Mistletoe,” Seamus explained, pointing upwards. Dean followed the path his finger was showing, and when his eyes met Harry’s, he quirked an eyebrow. Harry chuckled sheepishly.
“Eh, sorry, just experimenting,” he said, and then plopped back down in his seat and turned to Ron. “Well, they don’t seem to be acting any different.” Ron rolled his eyes.
“That’s because it’s Seamus, and he would kiss Millicent Bulstrode if you stuck them under mistletoe together.” He sighed, staring at the mistletoe again. “Oh well, I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “but not now. We have class.” Ron nodded and said goodbye to his two friends, shoving Fred and George’s present into his bag before heading out of the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione gathered up their stuff and began the trek down into the dungeons for Potions.
Harry, through some extreme miracle, had gotten a high enough O.W.L. on his Potions exam to get into Snape’s N.E.W.T. level class. The amount of students taking said class was low enough that they were all piled into the same class, no matter what house they were from. With the absence of Ron, Harry had done his best to be paired up with Hermione, but because this was Snape’s class and he liked making life difficult for Harry, such was not the case. The Potions Master hadn’t been very pleased to find Harry in his class, so in the first lesson he’d assigned partners, predictably pairing Harry with his favorite rival.
“Malfoy,” Harry said in some sort of greeting as he dropped his books onto the table next to the blonde’s. The other boy merely glanced up and gave him a slight nod, frown deepening and his face looking resigned, before turning to look back at the front of the classroom.
Harry sighed and sat down heavily, resting his cheek on his hand. The Slytherin had been a bit of an enigma this year. His father hadn’t remained in Azkaban for long, escaping a week before Harry’s birthday, which had consequently left everyone in a right state trying to figure out if the Death Eaters were planning an attack or not. Everyone had been surprised when Draco had turned up on the Hogwarts Express, because most people had assumed he would join his father. The boy had refused to talk about it, insisting he had no idea where his father was nor any idea about the Dark Lord’s plans.
Towards Harry, however, nothing had changed. If anything, Malfoy was acting worse than he had the previous year when he had Umbridge to use an excuse. The blonde was furious about his father’s imprisonment and even more mad that now he had no idea where he was, and he blamed it all on Harry. It was different though; there were no jibes about Mudbloods, or even about Harry’s parents. He hadn’t even made fun of Ron’s family yet. The insults were geared towards Harry’s schoolwork, his clumsiness, his clothes… Small things, and it usually left the Gryffindor annoyed more than anything else. Malfoy would tease and insult and taunt until Harry would finally snap, and more often than not the two boys ended their arguments with random scuffles in the hall. As far as Harry could tell, though, that’s what the blonde was aiming for.
And surprisingly enough, the fights didn’t bother Harry so much. He’d been in the hospital wing so often by Halloween that the professors had decided that, since detentions weren’t working, Harry and Draco would have to heal on their own from now on. Harry’d spent much of November with either one or two black eyes. Currently, he was nursing a rather sore stomach, which showed through the several purple bruises splotched beneath his shirt. Not that he didn’t give as good as he got. He knew the blonde was wearing a turtleneck today only so people wouldn’t see the angry bruises left from Harry’s fingers when they’d been curled around his neck two days previous.
In a way, Harry found their fist fights relieving. It was an outlet for all his stress and anger and frustrations. He was still sore over losing Sirius, and hitting Malfoy was the closest he could get to killing the boy’s Aunt, at the moment. Harry suspected that was half the reason neither boy had been chucked out of school yet.
“POTTER!” Harry blinked and jerked, eyes focusing on Malfoy’s fingers, which were snapping in front of his face. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes, you dense prat! Get the ingredients, would you?” the blonde demanded, pointing to the storage room. He leaned on the table behind them, tipping his stool onto two legs, and Harry rolled his eyes and glared at him.
“Whatever,” he muttered. He gathered up everything they needed, with Hermione’s help, and dropped it all onto their table.
“Good,” Malfoy said, still leaning back on his stool. Harry supposed he was going for the ‘I-own-the-world’ look. “Now set up the cauldron and I’ll tell you what to do, since you screwed it up last time. I can’t have my Potions grade suffering because of your incompetence, Potter.” Harry breathed in deeply.
“You know, it might possibly go better if you bothered to help out,” he said lightly, as if suggesting a good book to read.
“I seem to have trouble standing too long, recently,” the blonde said, with a careless wave of his hand. “I think it has something to do with my getting dizzy due to shortness of breath. See, this great barbarian oaf crushed my larynx the other day.”
“Was this oaf that much stronger than you, then?” Harry asked, smothering an amused grin as he began mixing potions ingredients. He could practically feel the Slytherin bristle beside him.
“No, he just happened to get in a cheap punch,” Malfoy growled. Harry grinned, before quickly hooking his foot around one of the remaining legs of Malfoy’s stool and yanking, causing the stool to fly out from under the other boy. Draco fell back against the table he’d been leaning on, eyes wide and startled, before collapsing to the ground on his back.
“Cheap like that?” Harry asked innocently, peering down at his partner. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he winced and pushed himself up onto his elbows and opened his mouth to retort, but Snape was descending on them in a flurry of black robes before he could speak.
“Mr. Potter! Just what is going on here?” he asked darkly, sneering at him before turning his gaze onto Draco. The blonde winced again.
“Malfoy fell off his stool, sir,” Harry replied, vaguely wondering why he even bothered trying to make up a story. Snape’s eyes narrowed further, and he glanced at his Slytherin student.
“Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?” he inquired, not sounding at all happy. Somewhere along the line, even Snape had grown tired of the boys’ fighting, and had stopped being so lenient with Draco.
“It bloody well is not! Uh, Professor,” Draco added hastily.
There was a slight pause, and then Professor Snape spoke slowly. “Get up off the floor, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, “and get back to work!” Draco stood up quickly, brushing off his robes and looking slightly sheepish when he noticed the rest of the class was staring.
“Yes, Professor,” he said quietly, and when Snape turned his glare on Harry, he quickly nodded as well. Snape gave an exasperated sigh, and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him.
“’Yes, Professor’” Harry mimicked in a squeaky voice, snickering. Malfoy dug his elbow into the other boy’s side, and Harry slapped his arm away. Frowning, the Slytherin grabbed at his Gryffindor counterpart’s hand, and attempted to twist his arm behind his back. Harry squirmed, pinching the other boy in the side with his free hand and the blonde released him, pushing him instead. When Harry overbalanced, he grabbed at Malfoy’s robes, and the next thing anyone knew, both boys were rolling around on the ground, throwing punches at each other and even the odd kick. They were hauled up by their collars only a few seconds later and then practically dragged into the hall.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, I do not know why you feel the need to have these ridiculous fights nearly every single day, but if you not desist in the very near future, I assure you, status and family and prophecies aside, I will find a way to have you both suspended, if not expelled!” Snape shouted, causing both boys to stare wide-eyed at him. “I won’t bother giving you detentions, because from past experiences this year, I know it will accomplish nothing,” he continued tiredly. “Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin,” he held up a hand to stop Malfoy’s protesting, “and neither of you will receive credit for today’s potion. Now get out of my sight!” With that, he stormed back into the classroom and slammed the door in their faces.
“This is all your fault, you know,” Malfoy mumbled, turning to walk down the hall.
“My fault?” Harry repeated incredulously, quickly following the other boy. “How is this my fault? If you weren’t such a bloody prick-”
“I’m the prick?!” Malfoy exclaimed, turning around so quickly that Harry almost rammed into him. “Potter, you have been the bane of my existence since before I met you!” Harry shoved past him, rolling his eyes.
“Well that’s a bit more your father’s fault than mine, don’t you think?” he said flatly.
“Don’t you dare talk about my father, Potter!” the blonde exploded, and Harry slowed to a halt to look at him.
“It’s funny how you yelling at me in no way makes me want to stop talking about your father,” he said lightly, “I mean, it certainly never stopped you from talking about mine.” Draco frowned, stepping closer to Harry so that they were only inches apart, because the Gryffindor had held his ground.
“At least, Potter, you know what’s happened to your parents,” he said, deadly quiet. He turned away to stalk down the hall.
Harry peered after him, confused. “Malfoy, your mother-”
“Is missing,” Draco replied tightly. Harry gasped slightly.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“Has been missing,” the blonde continued, turning around to glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye, “since late July.”
“When your father-”
“Yes, Potter, when my father escaped and decided to also go missing,” Draco said angrily, marching back up to Harry and poking him the chest. “So don’t talk to me about my parents, and how I used to fault you for yours, because at least you know what happened to yours! I have no idea where mine are or what they’re doing. The Dark Lord wouldn’t get rid of my father, I’m fairly certain of that, but he has no need for my mother and the only reason she could possibly be with them…would…it makes me sick even thinking about it,” he hissed, eyes lowering. Harry stared at him silently.
“Malfoy…I-”
“Kidding.”
“Merlin, would you let finish a bloody sen- what?” Harry’s eyes widened, jaw dropping open slightly.
“I’m kidding. What, can’t take a joke, Potter?” Draco said, backing up and crossing his arms to give Harry a smug smile. “Please, my mother’s at home lounging about all day; I got a letter from her this morning.” Harry continued to stare at him in shock, which was slowly melting away into anger. He could feel his fists clenching at his sides. “Honestly, as if she’d dirty her fingers flouncing off to work for the Dark-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Harry’s fist was swinging into his jaw, and yet another fight broke out between them.
* * *
It was much later in the afternoon when Harry finally made his way into the common room.
“Harry!” he heard Hermione call, and turned towards the fireplace where his two friends were sitting. “Harry, where have you been all day? I haven’t seen you since Professor Snape threw you out of Potions, and-” She broke off here, staring at the disheveled boy before her. “Harry,” she scolded, “what have you been doing?”
“Um…” The green-eyed boy looked a bit sheepish, and scratched the back of his neck. “I was out flying,” he finally replied, though he didn’t meet either of his friends’ eyes.
“Fell off your broom, did you?” Ron commented sarcastically. Harry absently touched his cheek, wincing at its soreness.
“Oh, well…I meant I was just out flying now. This…ah…well I kind of got into a fight with Malfoy…again. Earlier.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed, beckoning him over while Ron snickered. Harry tentatively walked over and let Hermione grab his chin and cast a simple healing spell.
“Thanks,” he grinned. He leaned over the couch, spotting the box from Fred and George resting between his two friends. “Have you found out what it does yet?” They looked confused for a second before catching onto what Harry was referring to.
“Oh, the mistletoe, you mean?” Ron replied. He handed the box to Harry, shaking his head. “No, as far as we can tell, it’s just plain old mistletoe.” He frowned. “Bit disappointing, really.”
“Did you test it again?” Harry asked.
“Well…no, but-”
“I’ve checked it over, there’s no love trance or love potion or anything spelled into it,” Hermione cut in.
“You sound so sure of yourself,” was Harry’s reply. “Happy Christmas, then!” he said cheerfully, and held a piece above Ron and Hermione’s head. Ron promptly blushed, glancing nervously at their bushy-haired friend, while Hermione rolled her eyes and pursed her lips primly.
“Really now, Harry, be serious,” she said, shaking her hair out of her face.
“Oh I am serious,” the raven-haired boy grinned. “Pucker up, Hermione!”
“Harry!” Ron shouted nervously.
“This is ridiculous,” Hermione said, exasperatedly. She gathered up her books and went to stand up off the couch, but suddenly jarred and dropped back down as if she’d hit her head on an invisible wall of some sort. “Ow! What…?” Tentatively, she lifted up her hand and all three Gryffindors watched as it apparently was blocked by…something.
“H-Harry…” Ron started to say, reaching out to his sides only to find that invisible wall there again. Before he could stop himself, Harry started snickering. “Harry, it’s not funny!”
“It’s bloody hilarious! Ron, your brothers are geniuses!” Harry exclaimed through his laughter. Then he yelped suddenly, yanking his hand away from the mistletoe. It remained hanging in the air, as he cradled his hand slightly.
“What was that?” Hermione asked quickly.
“It-it burned me!”
“Burned you?”
“Yeah…” Harry reached for the mistletoe again, but retracted his hand immediately and starting laughing again. “Oh, oh that’s priceless! You can’t move it!”
“No- what- no! Wait, what do you mean?” Ron stuttered.
“You can’t figure it out?”
“Um…”
“We have to kiss,” Hermione spoke up, still cautiously feeling around for whatever was surrounding them. “It’s…there’s some sort of…of force field around us. I bet it won’t disappear until we’ve kissed. And apparently you can’t move the mistletoe.” Not that she sounded unhappy about that. Ron swallowed nervously.
“Force field?” he repeated weakly.
“Muggle term,” Harry offered.
“I know what it means!” Ron snapped, and Harry held up his hands defensively. He watched as his two friends glanced nervously at each other, and Hermione’s lips quirked up into a shy smile. Harry looked at them intently. “Um, Harry…?”
“Yeah?”
“Harry, if you don’t mind…” Hermione said pointedly, glancing at the boy out of the corner of her eye.
“Oh…right.” Grinning again, Harry dropped down behind the couch and sat with his back against it.
“Harry!”
“I’m not leaving! You’d better get a move on before you sprout horns or something,” he said cheerfully. He heard some rustling on the couch and then silence, so he carefully turned around and peered over the top of it. Ron, still bright red, had one hand gently holding Hermione’s chin as he kissed her softly, while she looked like she was in pure bliss. He let them continue on for a few moments, before speaking up. “Well it’s about time, isn’t it?” he said, and the two promptly broke apart, the mistletoe dropping to the couch as they did.
“A-a-about time for what?” Ron stuttered nervously, glancing away from Hermione. The girl quickly started straightening out her hair and clothes as she stood and moved away from the sofa.
“Yes, Harry, it was only because of the mistletoe,” she said quietly. But then she paused, face going still as her eyes narrowed. “Why else would Ronald have any cause to kiss me?” Before they could answer, she gathered up her books and swept up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.
“Wait, Hermione!” Ron called, but the only reply he got was the sound of a door slamming. He winced.
“Oh, brilliant, Ron,” Harry sighed, coming around the couch to sit beside the boy. Ron crossed his arms and pouted.
“I didn’t even say anything!” he protested, looking glum. Harry shrugged.
“Yes, but I expect she’s getting tired of waiting, just the same.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting for- oh, if you can’t figure it out then you don’t deserve her!” Ron sighed, and the two boys were quiet for a bit, staring at the fireplace and watching the low flames flicker.
“So tell me about this fight with Malfoy,” Ron said after a few minutes, and Harry was quick to indulge.
“It was brilliant, I got him really good this time!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening as he turned to face Ron. “It was like this…”
* * *
For whatever reason, there were more people than normal staying at Hogwarts over break this year. Harry figured it was because most parents simply thought that the school was the safest place their children could be at the moment. Hogwarts’ Christmas dinner, therefore, was a rather boisterous affair compared to previous years. There was even an unexpected amount of Slytherins staying over break, so Harry had spent much of his dinner glaring at a certain blonde across the hall, surprised that he, in particular, was there because he hadn’t seen him at all during the first few days of their vacation.
“Why do you suppose he’s even here?” he asked at one point, cutting into a conversation that Hermione and Ginny had been having.
“He, who?” his bushy-haired friend returned, eyebrows furrowing.
“Malfoy, of course.”
“Malfoy’s here?” Ron broke in, suddenly tuning into the conversation. He cast a quick glance to the Slytherin table, catching the blonde as he sent a mocking wave towards the Gryffindors. “Weird, doesn’t he usually go home?”
“Well, he was here second year,” Harry reminded him.
“Oh yeah!” Ron chuckled. “The polyjuice thing. That was a trip, wasn’t it? I still say Hermione never looked better than she did with that tail.” He and Harry shared an amused grin as Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.
“Polyjuice?” Ginny spoke up. “And when was this?”
“Er…it’s not important…” said Harry, remembering the unfortunate experiences of the girl’s first year. She rolled her eyes, seemingly accepting his answer, and turned to talk to someone else. “Anyway, Malfoy, why do you suppose he stayed?” Ron shrugged, but Hermione’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well, where else would he go? Home?” she asked, as if the answer was obvious. She was rewarded with two blank stares. “Oh, for the love of- Don’t you read? Don’t you pay any attention to anything? Harry, I thought you were reading the papers religiously nowadays. In fact, I’d rather guessed that was part of the reason you two were fighting so much!” The stares were still blank, though Harry was starting to look a bit sheepish.
“Erm, only over the summer, Hermione. When I’m back at school, I guess I figured any important news would spread quickly.” Hermione let out a breath in exasperation.
“Well…I guess it was a pretty short article. And it wasn’t even on the front page. I think they were trying to keep it quiet, I mean, it’s bad enough with Lucius a confirmed Death Eater and out of Azkaban, but-“
“Hermione,” Ron cut in. “Get to the point, would you?” Harry took a moment to wonder how they could act as if nothing had happened between them the previous week, and decided he might as well just give up on their hopeless case, before turning his attention back to Hermione.
“Draco’s mother is missing,” she revealed, voice dropping to a whisper. “He can’t go home because the Aurors have the place completely sealed off. They’ve been searching it for weeks.” Ron was starting to look excited about this news, but Harry had stilled in shock.
“Wicked!” his red-haired friend exclaimed. “For how long?”
“Since this summer,” Harry replied, still absorbing the news and feeling furious at Malfoy for lying to him.
“No, that’s not right,” Hermione said, and Harry shot her a confused look. “She’s only been missing since…well, since Halloween. But nothing happened on Halloween. I think that’s why the Daily Prophet actually kept it quiet, though, so as not to rouse suspicion and make people worry.”
“Since Halloween?” Harry repeated, continuing at Hermione’s nod. “So that’s only about two months…”
“They didn’t even report it until mid-November.” Hermione gestured with her head in the general vicinity of the Slytherin table. “Bet he was worried out of his mind, not receiving any notes from his mother for nearly half a month.”
“How do you know that?” Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Harry, you noticed that, don’t you remember?” When he shook his head, the girl sighed and raised her eyes skywards.
“Oh, I remember!” Ron spoke up, catching the attention of the other two. “You started pointing out how Malfoy’s owl had stopped showing up. For about a week, actually.” The red-head frowned. “Still not sure how you knew which owl was his, really.”
“I- well- It used to show up nearly everyday!” Harry spluttered.
“Malfoy was jittery that whole week,” Hermione continued, ignoring him. “And then he looked miserable for another week after the news came out. That’s when you started fighting with him even more so than usual.”
“He starts those fights, you know,” said Harry indignantly.
“Really, Harry, you spend quite a bit of your time focusing on Malfoy. It’s starting to become a nasty habit of yours.”
“Wha- I do not! Tell her I don’t…focus on Malfoy too much!” Harry turned to Ron looking for support, but the boy shrugged helplessly.
”You sort of do, mate.” He held up his hands defensively when Harry’s face hardened. “I hate him as much as you do, I promise! But honestly, I don’t even know what you fight about anymore.”
“We…I…he…um…” Harry tried to explain, trailing off into confused silence. “It’s…difficult to explain.”
“Try us,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. Harry’s cheeks slowly reddened.
“Um…but he starts it!” he said desperately. “I swear he does! He just keeps…nagging and I can’t take it! He’s like…like an annoying little gnat or something!”
“Really now, Potter, surely I’m not that annoying,” a drawling voice interrupted, and Harry and Ron turned around in their seats to see Malfoy looming behind them, his two hulking bodyguards absent for once. “And I’m sure I’m damned more attractive than a gnat.”
“Who said anything about your looks?” Ron muttered, turning back around and sharing a look with Hermione. “We’d have been referring to a rat or ferret if that was the case.” Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but it snapped shut again when Harry grabbed his robes and threw him off balance as he dragged the blonde down into the seat next to himself.
“What- Potter!” Malfoy cried crossly.
“You lied to me!” Harry shouted angrily, and the Slytherin at least had the decency to blink in confusion.
“Did I now?” he asked, after a slight pause. Hermione and Ron watched in interest.
“You told me your mother wasn’t missing!” Hermione gasped slightly, while Draco blinked again.
“Oh,” he said flatly. “You’re referring to that.” He leaned back against the table, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, looking for all the world as if he regularly visited with Gryffindors in the Great Hall. “Actually, I was a bit surprised you didn’t already know. I guess I figured Ms. Brains over here would have told you, had you not heard it from Dumbledore himself."
“Don’t call her that, Mal-! Oh wait…” Ron trailed off, and Hermione promptly threw her napkin at him.
“Hold on, you honestly don’t have any idea where your mother is?” Harry asked, steering Malfoy’s attention away from the antics of his friends and back to himself.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Potter, but no, I don’t.”
“Well then…what if she’s still missing by summer? You can’t stay at Hogwarts the whole break, can you?” Malfoy slowly drew in a deep breath, eyes narrowing.
“I turn of age in January, I imagine I’ll be able survive on my own without mommy and daddy dearest,” he said snidely, nose wrinkling.
“Harry, when were you and Malfoy discussing this?” Hermione asked curiously. Harry blushed slightly and started to vehemently deny the thought that he’d been discussing anything with his rival, but the Slytherin intervened.
“It was after our latest fight got us thrown out of Potions,” he answered, and Harry glared at him. Smirking, he continued, “Speaking of, we haven’t fought in nearly a week, Potter. I know you’re missing your bruises, are you up for a tumble any time soon?” Ron snorted and Hermione coughed slightly, while Harry stared incredulously at the boy.
“I think not, Malfoy,” he replied slowly. Draco shrugged, but at that moment a shrill voice called to him.
“Draco!” Pansy was shouting from where she was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall. She'd obviously been making her way out, but was now staring at her friend in shock. After all, he was sitting with Gryffindors.
“Ah, well, not that I don’t love chatting with you all, but I must be off,” Malfoy said, standing and brushing down his robes.
“That’s right, Malfoy, your girlfriend’s calling for you, after all,” Harry smirked, and the blonde raised an eyebrow at him.
“Girlfriend? Who have you been talking to?” Malfoy returned the smirk and started to walk away. “Ta, Potter! I’m oh-so-looking forward to our next encounter.” Harry watched him saunter out of the Great Hall, arm interlocked with Pansy’s, and turned to his two friends.
“They’re not going out?”
“Who cares,” Ron said, shrugging and finally digging into his dessert again. Hermione shook her head.
“Never went out,” she replied. At Harry’s surprised look, she went on to say, “They only went to the Yule Ball together. As friends.”
“Oh.”
“Well, come on then, you two,” Hermione said, pushing her plates away and standing up. “We need to get ready for the party.”
* * *
Due to the amount of people who had stayed behind, the D.A. had decided to throw themselves a Christmas party in the Room of Requirement that night. Dobby had taken it upon himself to help decorate, once again, so the room was very cheery. Harry was just thankful there were no decorations dedicated to him again. It ended up being quite fun and continued on late into the night, long after the eggnog and cookies were gone. Harry had mingled the whole time, wandering from group to group and talking to all his peers. He’d caught sight of Ron, Seamus, and even Zacharias Smith at one point, snickering throughout the night, pointing to something that Harry could never really figure out. Eventually, at sometime past eleven, people began filtering out of the room, until just the Gryffindors were left. They all sat chatting around the fireplace for a little while longer, but then Ginny suddenly remembered something and rushed out of the room, Dean following her. Seamus, Neville, Lavender, and Parvati retired right after that, which left Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting in a comfortable silence.
“Do you think if we just require the room to be clean, it’ll pick up everything itself?” Hermione asked eventually, snuggled into her corner of the couch. Ron was sitting next to her, but not too close, and he kept fidgeting with his hands. Harry chuckled.
“It’s a nice thought,” he said from his position on the floor where he was leaning against another armchair. “But I expect the house elves will probably clean it or something.” Hermione ‘hmmed’ in agreement, looking just a bit guilty about leaving the work for the house elves. Ron sat on his hands, nodding absently. He was flushed slightly, but then Harry cheeks also felt hot, and he figured it was from sitting so close to the fire or something. Of course… The green-eyed boy glanced back and forth between his friends, and eventually smirked. He stood, stretching his arms above his head, and headed towards the door. “Well, I’m beat, I think I’ll turn in,” he said lightly. “Happy Christmas, you two!”
“Wait- Harry!”
“Stop, no, don’t leave yet!”
Harry sighed in exasperation, turning in the open doorway and leaning against the side. “Yes?” he asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows expectantly. His two friends looked sheepish, mouths opening and closing like a couple of fish as they searched for a response.
“Oh, how quaint.” Harry frowned as he heard that drawling voice interrupting one of his conversations for the second time that day, and he looked to his side to find Malfoy leaning against the opposite door jam. He vaguely heard a muffled exclamation from inside the room, but ignored it.
“You again?” Harry asked with a sneer. “What do you want now?”
“I was bored,” Malfoy shrugged, “and wandering through the castle when I suddenly heard annoyingly loud voices coming from this direction. I saw your dorm mates walking away, and remembered that this is where we caught you lot last year. So I decided to come and make sure you weren’t…up to anything.” The blonde smirked and crossed his arms, glancing into the room, before his smirk faded a little. “Instead I see you were just having a party that I wasn’t invited to.”
“Why would we invite you?” Harry asked, eyebrows raised. Malfoy frowned, brow furrowing.
“Was it just you Gryffindors, or were the other Houses here as well?” he asked sharply.
“They were here.”
“…I see.” Something about his tone made Harry feel uncomfortable and…slightly guilty? The Slytherin was still looking about the room. “Seems like you had fun,” he commented, sounding only slightly bitter. Harry suddenly felt the need to explain or defend himself or something.
“Ah…well it- it was just the D.A., really,” he stuttered, feeling nervous for no reason he could comprehend. Malfoy didn’t respond right away, staring at Harry’s friends instead, as they appeared to be whispering urgently to each other. In fact, they’d been awfully quiet since the boy had arrived…
“Is there something wrong with your friends, Potter? I’m assuming you were trying to give them some alone time. So sorry I interrupted,” Malfoy said, not sounding sorry at all. Harry finally looked towards his friends, surprised to see their horrified faces.
“Ron, Hermione, what-“ He broke off there, noticing that their gazes were directed…directed above…them… Harry swallowed, and at the same time he and Malfoy glanced up.
Right above them, hanging innocently in the doorway, was a single sprig of mistletoe.
next
Title: Careful Who You’re Caught With
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor/Romance/Slash
Rating: PG-13 to R
Pairing: H/D
Disclaimer: It’s JKR’s, and she’d best hurry up with that next book!
Summary: A Christmas present from the Weasley twins, two D.A. parties, several fights, and of course, mistletoe! This holiday season is shaping up to be slightly better than 5th year's, even if the person Harry'll be kissing isn't exactly who he expected.
Oy, it doesn't all fit into one post, so it's in two parts.
~~Careful Who You’re Caught With~~
“Oy, Harry, look!” Ron exclaimed, shoving a package under Harry’s nose the day before winter holidays began. The green-eyed boy flinched back, trying to get a glance at what he was so forcibly being shown.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Not sure. It’s a present from Fred and George. It’s addressed to both of us,” Ron replied, holding the box next to his ear and shaking it. “It doesn’t sound like much.”
“Well, I hope it’s not breakable,” Hermione commented lightly, reaching across the table to take it from him. She set it down on the table so they could all stare at it.
“Why don’t we open it?” Harry suggested.
“We can’t! It’s not Christmas yet!” Ron exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“How about reading the card they sent, then?”
“What card?”
“The one that says ‘OPEN NOW’ in big red letters,” she said dryly, pointing it out to the boys.
“Oh,” Ron said sheepishly, while Harry chuckled. Ron quickly picked up the rolled up letter from where the owl had dropped it in the middle of the table, and scanned it briefly. “It’s the latest of their holiday products,” he reported, still reading. “We’re supposed to open it right when we get it… They said they expect us to put it to good use, but to be careful about whom we get caught under it with.” Finished, he dropped the letter back onto the table, and picked up the package again. “So what the bloody hell is it?”
“Ron!” Hermione admonished, but the boy ignored her, already digging into his gift.
“Well, what is it?” Harry asked excitedly, peering over Ron’s shoulder after he’d stilled, looking curiously into the box.
“It’s…it’s…some leaves?” He pulled out a small twig of leaves that looked painfully familiar to Harry, and gazed at it in confusion.
“It’s mistletoe,” Harry said flatly, as Hermione opened her mouth to supply the answer. She looked put-out that he’d already known.
“Mistletoe!” came the surprised answer. The red-headed Gryffindor hastily dropped it back into the box. “Why would they send us THAT?”
“Thought they’d send some holiday cheer?” Harry suggested. He picked up one of the sprigs, noting that there were two in the box. “I guess we each get one. They said it’s a product of theirs, though. Wonder what it does.” Not thinking of any possible consequences, he started to hold it above his own head, but Ron quickly grabbed his arm.
“Don’t do that!” he hissed, looking around warily. “You have no idea what they’ve done to it! It could…could…it-”
“Yes?” Harry looked amused.
“Well it could put whoever’s under it in a…love…trance…or something,” Ron finished weakly. Harry blinked. “Oh, I don’t know! Fine, screw yourself over.” He crossed his arms grumpily, and looked expectantly at his fellow Gryffindor. Though, admittedly, Harry was now a bit worried as to what would happen. He glanced around, eyes landing on the Irish boy sitting next to him, and reached up to hold the mistletoe above the boy’s head.
“Cheers, Seamus!” he said cheerfully, and the boy looked up, before grinning.
“Aww, mistletoe!” he exclaimed, turning to smile at Dean, who Harry hadn’t realized was sitting on Seamus’ other side. “Happy Christmas, Dean!” Seamus grinned again, and leaned forward to smack a kiss on the black boy’s cheek.
“Augh!” Dean cried, nearly upsetting his oatmeal. “What was that for?” He reached up and rubbed absently at his cheek.
“Mistletoe,” Seamus explained, pointing upwards. Dean followed the path his finger was showing, and when his eyes met Harry’s, he quirked an eyebrow. Harry chuckled sheepishly.
“Eh, sorry, just experimenting,” he said, and then plopped back down in his seat and turned to Ron. “Well, they don’t seem to be acting any different.” Ron rolled his eyes.
“That’s because it’s Seamus, and he would kiss Millicent Bulstrode if you stuck them under mistletoe together.” He sighed, staring at the mistletoe again. “Oh well, I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “but not now. We have class.” Ron nodded and said goodbye to his two friends, shoving Fred and George’s present into his bag before heading out of the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione gathered up their stuff and began the trek down into the dungeons for Potions.
Harry, through some extreme miracle, had gotten a high enough O.W.L. on his Potions exam to get into Snape’s N.E.W.T. level class. The amount of students taking said class was low enough that they were all piled into the same class, no matter what house they were from. With the absence of Ron, Harry had done his best to be paired up with Hermione, but because this was Snape’s class and he liked making life difficult for Harry, such was not the case. The Potions Master hadn’t been very pleased to find Harry in his class, so in the first lesson he’d assigned partners, predictably pairing Harry with his favorite rival.
“Malfoy,” Harry said in some sort of greeting as he dropped his books onto the table next to the blonde’s. The other boy merely glanced up and gave him a slight nod, frown deepening and his face looking resigned, before turning to look back at the front of the classroom.
Harry sighed and sat down heavily, resting his cheek on his hand. The Slytherin had been a bit of an enigma this year. His father hadn’t remained in Azkaban for long, escaping a week before Harry’s birthday, which had consequently left everyone in a right state trying to figure out if the Death Eaters were planning an attack or not. Everyone had been surprised when Draco had turned up on the Hogwarts Express, because most people had assumed he would join his father. The boy had refused to talk about it, insisting he had no idea where his father was nor any idea about the Dark Lord’s plans.
Towards Harry, however, nothing had changed. If anything, Malfoy was acting worse than he had the previous year when he had Umbridge to use an excuse. The blonde was furious about his father’s imprisonment and even more mad that now he had no idea where he was, and he blamed it all on Harry. It was different though; there were no jibes about Mudbloods, or even about Harry’s parents. He hadn’t even made fun of Ron’s family yet. The insults were geared towards Harry’s schoolwork, his clumsiness, his clothes… Small things, and it usually left the Gryffindor annoyed more than anything else. Malfoy would tease and insult and taunt until Harry would finally snap, and more often than not the two boys ended their arguments with random scuffles in the hall. As far as Harry could tell, though, that’s what the blonde was aiming for.
And surprisingly enough, the fights didn’t bother Harry so much. He’d been in the hospital wing so often by Halloween that the professors had decided that, since detentions weren’t working, Harry and Draco would have to heal on their own from now on. Harry’d spent much of November with either one or two black eyes. Currently, he was nursing a rather sore stomach, which showed through the several purple bruises splotched beneath his shirt. Not that he didn’t give as good as he got. He knew the blonde was wearing a turtleneck today only so people wouldn’t see the angry bruises left from Harry’s fingers when they’d been curled around his neck two days previous.
In a way, Harry found their fist fights relieving. It was an outlet for all his stress and anger and frustrations. He was still sore over losing Sirius, and hitting Malfoy was the closest he could get to killing the boy’s Aunt, at the moment. Harry suspected that was half the reason neither boy had been chucked out of school yet.
“POTTER!” Harry blinked and jerked, eyes focusing on Malfoy’s fingers, which were snapping in front of his face. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes, you dense prat! Get the ingredients, would you?” the blonde demanded, pointing to the storage room. He leaned on the table behind them, tipping his stool onto two legs, and Harry rolled his eyes and glared at him.
“Whatever,” he muttered. He gathered up everything they needed, with Hermione’s help, and dropped it all onto their table.
“Good,” Malfoy said, still leaning back on his stool. Harry supposed he was going for the ‘I-own-the-world’ look. “Now set up the cauldron and I’ll tell you what to do, since you screwed it up last time. I can’t have my Potions grade suffering because of your incompetence, Potter.” Harry breathed in deeply.
“You know, it might possibly go better if you bothered to help out,” he said lightly, as if suggesting a good book to read.
“I seem to have trouble standing too long, recently,” the blonde said, with a careless wave of his hand. “I think it has something to do with my getting dizzy due to shortness of breath. See, this great barbarian oaf crushed my larynx the other day.”
“Was this oaf that much stronger than you, then?” Harry asked, smothering an amused grin as he began mixing potions ingredients. He could practically feel the Slytherin bristle beside him.
“No, he just happened to get in a cheap punch,” Malfoy growled. Harry grinned, before quickly hooking his foot around one of the remaining legs of Malfoy’s stool and yanking, causing the stool to fly out from under the other boy. Draco fell back against the table he’d been leaning on, eyes wide and startled, before collapsing to the ground on his back.
“Cheap like that?” Harry asked innocently, peering down at his partner. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he winced and pushed himself up onto his elbows and opened his mouth to retort, but Snape was descending on them in a flurry of black robes before he could speak.
“Mr. Potter! Just what is going on here?” he asked darkly, sneering at him before turning his gaze onto Draco. The blonde winced again.
“Malfoy fell off his stool, sir,” Harry replied, vaguely wondering why he even bothered trying to make up a story. Snape’s eyes narrowed further, and he glanced at his Slytherin student.
“Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?” he inquired, not sounding at all happy. Somewhere along the line, even Snape had grown tired of the boys’ fighting, and had stopped being so lenient with Draco.
“It bloody well is not! Uh, Professor,” Draco added hastily.
There was a slight pause, and then Professor Snape spoke slowly. “Get up off the floor, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, “and get back to work!” Draco stood up quickly, brushing off his robes and looking slightly sheepish when he noticed the rest of the class was staring.
“Yes, Professor,” he said quietly, and when Snape turned his glare on Harry, he quickly nodded as well. Snape gave an exasperated sigh, and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him.
“’Yes, Professor’” Harry mimicked in a squeaky voice, snickering. Malfoy dug his elbow into the other boy’s side, and Harry slapped his arm away. Frowning, the Slytherin grabbed at his Gryffindor counterpart’s hand, and attempted to twist his arm behind his back. Harry squirmed, pinching the other boy in the side with his free hand and the blonde released him, pushing him instead. When Harry overbalanced, he grabbed at Malfoy’s robes, and the next thing anyone knew, both boys were rolling around on the ground, throwing punches at each other and even the odd kick. They were hauled up by their collars only a few seconds later and then practically dragged into the hall.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, I do not know why you feel the need to have these ridiculous fights nearly every single day, but if you not desist in the very near future, I assure you, status and family and prophecies aside, I will find a way to have you both suspended, if not expelled!” Snape shouted, causing both boys to stare wide-eyed at him. “I won’t bother giving you detentions, because from past experiences this year, I know it will accomplish nothing,” he continued tiredly. “Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin,” he held up a hand to stop Malfoy’s protesting, “and neither of you will receive credit for today’s potion. Now get out of my sight!” With that, he stormed back into the classroom and slammed the door in their faces.
“This is all your fault, you know,” Malfoy mumbled, turning to walk down the hall.
“My fault?” Harry repeated incredulously, quickly following the other boy. “How is this my fault? If you weren’t such a bloody prick-”
“I’m the prick?!” Malfoy exclaimed, turning around so quickly that Harry almost rammed into him. “Potter, you have been the bane of my existence since before I met you!” Harry shoved past him, rolling his eyes.
“Well that’s a bit more your father’s fault than mine, don’t you think?” he said flatly.
“Don’t you dare talk about my father, Potter!” the blonde exploded, and Harry slowed to a halt to look at him.
“It’s funny how you yelling at me in no way makes me want to stop talking about your father,” he said lightly, “I mean, it certainly never stopped you from talking about mine.” Draco frowned, stepping closer to Harry so that they were only inches apart, because the Gryffindor had held his ground.
“At least, Potter, you know what’s happened to your parents,” he said, deadly quiet. He turned away to stalk down the hall.
Harry peered after him, confused. “Malfoy, your mother-”
“Is missing,” Draco replied tightly. Harry gasped slightly.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“Has been missing,” the blonde continued, turning around to glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye, “since late July.”
“When your father-”
“Yes, Potter, when my father escaped and decided to also go missing,” Draco said angrily, marching back up to Harry and poking him the chest. “So don’t talk to me about my parents, and how I used to fault you for yours, because at least you know what happened to yours! I have no idea where mine are or what they’re doing. The Dark Lord wouldn’t get rid of my father, I’m fairly certain of that, but he has no need for my mother and the only reason she could possibly be with them…would…it makes me sick even thinking about it,” he hissed, eyes lowering. Harry stared at him silently.
“Malfoy…I-”
“Kidding.”
“Merlin, would you let finish a bloody sen- what?” Harry’s eyes widened, jaw dropping open slightly.
“I’m kidding. What, can’t take a joke, Potter?” Draco said, backing up and crossing his arms to give Harry a smug smile. “Please, my mother’s at home lounging about all day; I got a letter from her this morning.” Harry continued to stare at him in shock, which was slowly melting away into anger. He could feel his fists clenching at his sides. “Honestly, as if she’d dirty her fingers flouncing off to work for the Dark-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Harry’s fist was swinging into his jaw, and yet another fight broke out between them.
* * *
It was much later in the afternoon when Harry finally made his way into the common room.
“Harry!” he heard Hermione call, and turned towards the fireplace where his two friends were sitting. “Harry, where have you been all day? I haven’t seen you since Professor Snape threw you out of Potions, and-” She broke off here, staring at the disheveled boy before her. “Harry,” she scolded, “what have you been doing?”
“Um…” The green-eyed boy looked a bit sheepish, and scratched the back of his neck. “I was out flying,” he finally replied, though he didn’t meet either of his friends’ eyes.
“Fell off your broom, did you?” Ron commented sarcastically. Harry absently touched his cheek, wincing at its soreness.
“Oh, well…I meant I was just out flying now. This…ah…well I kind of got into a fight with Malfoy…again. Earlier.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed, beckoning him over while Ron snickered. Harry tentatively walked over and let Hermione grab his chin and cast a simple healing spell.
“Thanks,” he grinned. He leaned over the couch, spotting the box from Fred and George resting between his two friends. “Have you found out what it does yet?” They looked confused for a second before catching onto what Harry was referring to.
“Oh, the mistletoe, you mean?” Ron replied. He handed the box to Harry, shaking his head. “No, as far as we can tell, it’s just plain old mistletoe.” He frowned. “Bit disappointing, really.”
“Did you test it again?” Harry asked.
“Well…no, but-”
“I’ve checked it over, there’s no love trance or love potion or anything spelled into it,” Hermione cut in.
“You sound so sure of yourself,” was Harry’s reply. “Happy Christmas, then!” he said cheerfully, and held a piece above Ron and Hermione’s head. Ron promptly blushed, glancing nervously at their bushy-haired friend, while Hermione rolled her eyes and pursed her lips primly.
“Really now, Harry, be serious,” she said, shaking her hair out of her face.
“Oh I am serious,” the raven-haired boy grinned. “Pucker up, Hermione!”
“Harry!” Ron shouted nervously.
“This is ridiculous,” Hermione said, exasperatedly. She gathered up her books and went to stand up off the couch, but suddenly jarred and dropped back down as if she’d hit her head on an invisible wall of some sort. “Ow! What…?” Tentatively, she lifted up her hand and all three Gryffindors watched as it apparently was blocked by…something.
“H-Harry…” Ron started to say, reaching out to his sides only to find that invisible wall there again. Before he could stop himself, Harry started snickering. “Harry, it’s not funny!”
“It’s bloody hilarious! Ron, your brothers are geniuses!” Harry exclaimed through his laughter. Then he yelped suddenly, yanking his hand away from the mistletoe. It remained hanging in the air, as he cradled his hand slightly.
“What was that?” Hermione asked quickly.
“It-it burned me!”
“Burned you?”
“Yeah…” Harry reached for the mistletoe again, but retracted his hand immediately and starting laughing again. “Oh, oh that’s priceless! You can’t move it!”
“No- what- no! Wait, what do you mean?” Ron stuttered.
“You can’t figure it out?”
“Um…”
“We have to kiss,” Hermione spoke up, still cautiously feeling around for whatever was surrounding them. “It’s…there’s some sort of…of force field around us. I bet it won’t disappear until we’ve kissed. And apparently you can’t move the mistletoe.” Not that she sounded unhappy about that. Ron swallowed nervously.
“Force field?” he repeated weakly.
“Muggle term,” Harry offered.
“I know what it means!” Ron snapped, and Harry held up his hands defensively. He watched as his two friends glanced nervously at each other, and Hermione’s lips quirked up into a shy smile. Harry looked at them intently. “Um, Harry…?”
“Yeah?”
“Harry, if you don’t mind…” Hermione said pointedly, glancing at the boy out of the corner of her eye.
“Oh…right.” Grinning again, Harry dropped down behind the couch and sat with his back against it.
“Harry!”
“I’m not leaving! You’d better get a move on before you sprout horns or something,” he said cheerfully. He heard some rustling on the couch and then silence, so he carefully turned around and peered over the top of it. Ron, still bright red, had one hand gently holding Hermione’s chin as he kissed her softly, while she looked like she was in pure bliss. He let them continue on for a few moments, before speaking up. “Well it’s about time, isn’t it?” he said, and the two promptly broke apart, the mistletoe dropping to the couch as they did.
“A-a-about time for what?” Ron stuttered nervously, glancing away from Hermione. The girl quickly started straightening out her hair and clothes as she stood and moved away from the sofa.
“Yes, Harry, it was only because of the mistletoe,” she said quietly. But then she paused, face going still as her eyes narrowed. “Why else would Ronald have any cause to kiss me?” Before they could answer, she gathered up her books and swept up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.
“Wait, Hermione!” Ron called, but the only reply he got was the sound of a door slamming. He winced.
“Oh, brilliant, Ron,” Harry sighed, coming around the couch to sit beside the boy. Ron crossed his arms and pouted.
“I didn’t even say anything!” he protested, looking glum. Harry shrugged.
“Yes, but I expect she’s getting tired of waiting, just the same.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting for- oh, if you can’t figure it out then you don’t deserve her!” Ron sighed, and the two boys were quiet for a bit, staring at the fireplace and watching the low flames flicker.
“So tell me about this fight with Malfoy,” Ron said after a few minutes, and Harry was quick to indulge.
“It was brilliant, I got him really good this time!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening as he turned to face Ron. “It was like this…”
* * *
For whatever reason, there were more people than normal staying at Hogwarts over break this year. Harry figured it was because most parents simply thought that the school was the safest place their children could be at the moment. Hogwarts’ Christmas dinner, therefore, was a rather boisterous affair compared to previous years. There was even an unexpected amount of Slytherins staying over break, so Harry had spent much of his dinner glaring at a certain blonde across the hall, surprised that he, in particular, was there because he hadn’t seen him at all during the first few days of their vacation.
“Why do you suppose he’s even here?” he asked at one point, cutting into a conversation that Hermione and Ginny had been having.
“He, who?” his bushy-haired friend returned, eyebrows furrowing.
“Malfoy, of course.”
“Malfoy’s here?” Ron broke in, suddenly tuning into the conversation. He cast a quick glance to the Slytherin table, catching the blonde as he sent a mocking wave towards the Gryffindors. “Weird, doesn’t he usually go home?”
“Well, he was here second year,” Harry reminded him.
“Oh yeah!” Ron chuckled. “The polyjuice thing. That was a trip, wasn’t it? I still say Hermione never looked better than she did with that tail.” He and Harry shared an amused grin as Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.
“Polyjuice?” Ginny spoke up. “And when was this?”
“Er…it’s not important…” said Harry, remembering the unfortunate experiences of the girl’s first year. She rolled her eyes, seemingly accepting his answer, and turned to talk to someone else. “Anyway, Malfoy, why do you suppose he stayed?” Ron shrugged, but Hermione’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well, where else would he go? Home?” she asked, as if the answer was obvious. She was rewarded with two blank stares. “Oh, for the love of- Don’t you read? Don’t you pay any attention to anything? Harry, I thought you were reading the papers religiously nowadays. In fact, I’d rather guessed that was part of the reason you two were fighting so much!” The stares were still blank, though Harry was starting to look a bit sheepish.
“Erm, only over the summer, Hermione. When I’m back at school, I guess I figured any important news would spread quickly.” Hermione let out a breath in exasperation.
“Well…I guess it was a pretty short article. And it wasn’t even on the front page. I think they were trying to keep it quiet, I mean, it’s bad enough with Lucius a confirmed Death Eater and out of Azkaban, but-“
“Hermione,” Ron cut in. “Get to the point, would you?” Harry took a moment to wonder how they could act as if nothing had happened between them the previous week, and decided he might as well just give up on their hopeless case, before turning his attention back to Hermione.
“Draco’s mother is missing,” she revealed, voice dropping to a whisper. “He can’t go home because the Aurors have the place completely sealed off. They’ve been searching it for weeks.” Ron was starting to look excited about this news, but Harry had stilled in shock.
“Wicked!” his red-haired friend exclaimed. “For how long?”
“Since this summer,” Harry replied, still absorbing the news and feeling furious at Malfoy for lying to him.
“No, that’s not right,” Hermione said, and Harry shot her a confused look. “She’s only been missing since…well, since Halloween. But nothing happened on Halloween. I think that’s why the Daily Prophet actually kept it quiet, though, so as not to rouse suspicion and make people worry.”
“Since Halloween?” Harry repeated, continuing at Hermione’s nod. “So that’s only about two months…”
“They didn’t even report it until mid-November.” Hermione gestured with her head in the general vicinity of the Slytherin table. “Bet he was worried out of his mind, not receiving any notes from his mother for nearly half a month.”
“How do you know that?” Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Harry, you noticed that, don’t you remember?” When he shook his head, the girl sighed and raised her eyes skywards.
“Oh, I remember!” Ron spoke up, catching the attention of the other two. “You started pointing out how Malfoy’s owl had stopped showing up. For about a week, actually.” The red-head frowned. “Still not sure how you knew which owl was his, really.”
“I- well- It used to show up nearly everyday!” Harry spluttered.
“Malfoy was jittery that whole week,” Hermione continued, ignoring him. “And then he looked miserable for another week after the news came out. That’s when you started fighting with him even more so than usual.”
“He starts those fights, you know,” said Harry indignantly.
“Really, Harry, you spend quite a bit of your time focusing on Malfoy. It’s starting to become a nasty habit of yours.”
“Wha- I do not! Tell her I don’t…focus on Malfoy too much!” Harry turned to Ron looking for support, but the boy shrugged helplessly.
”You sort of do, mate.” He held up his hands defensively when Harry’s face hardened. “I hate him as much as you do, I promise! But honestly, I don’t even know what you fight about anymore.”
“We…I…he…um…” Harry tried to explain, trailing off into confused silence. “It’s…difficult to explain.”
“Try us,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. Harry’s cheeks slowly reddened.
“Um…but he starts it!” he said desperately. “I swear he does! He just keeps…nagging and I can’t take it! He’s like…like an annoying little gnat or something!”
“Really now, Potter, surely I’m not that annoying,” a drawling voice interrupted, and Harry and Ron turned around in their seats to see Malfoy looming behind them, his two hulking bodyguards absent for once. “And I’m sure I’m damned more attractive than a gnat.”
“Who said anything about your looks?” Ron muttered, turning back around and sharing a look with Hermione. “We’d have been referring to a rat or ferret if that was the case.” Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but it snapped shut again when Harry grabbed his robes and threw him off balance as he dragged the blonde down into the seat next to himself.
“What- Potter!” Malfoy cried crossly.
“You lied to me!” Harry shouted angrily, and the Slytherin at least had the decency to blink in confusion.
“Did I now?” he asked, after a slight pause. Hermione and Ron watched in interest.
“You told me your mother wasn’t missing!” Hermione gasped slightly, while Draco blinked again.
“Oh,” he said flatly. “You’re referring to that.” He leaned back against the table, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, looking for all the world as if he regularly visited with Gryffindors in the Great Hall. “Actually, I was a bit surprised you didn’t already know. I guess I figured Ms. Brains over here would have told you, had you not heard it from Dumbledore himself."
“Don’t call her that, Mal-! Oh wait…” Ron trailed off, and Hermione promptly threw her napkin at him.
“Hold on, you honestly don’t have any idea where your mother is?” Harry asked, steering Malfoy’s attention away from the antics of his friends and back to himself.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Potter, but no, I don’t.”
“Well then…what if she’s still missing by summer? You can’t stay at Hogwarts the whole break, can you?” Malfoy slowly drew in a deep breath, eyes narrowing.
“I turn of age in January, I imagine I’ll be able survive on my own without mommy and daddy dearest,” he said snidely, nose wrinkling.
“Harry, when were you and Malfoy discussing this?” Hermione asked curiously. Harry blushed slightly and started to vehemently deny the thought that he’d been discussing anything with his rival, but the Slytherin intervened.
“It was after our latest fight got us thrown out of Potions,” he answered, and Harry glared at him. Smirking, he continued, “Speaking of, we haven’t fought in nearly a week, Potter. I know you’re missing your bruises, are you up for a tumble any time soon?” Ron snorted and Hermione coughed slightly, while Harry stared incredulously at the boy.
“I think not, Malfoy,” he replied slowly. Draco shrugged, but at that moment a shrill voice called to him.
“Draco!” Pansy was shouting from where she was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall. She'd obviously been making her way out, but was now staring at her friend in shock. After all, he was sitting with Gryffindors.
“Ah, well, not that I don’t love chatting with you all, but I must be off,” Malfoy said, standing and brushing down his robes.
“That’s right, Malfoy, your girlfriend’s calling for you, after all,” Harry smirked, and the blonde raised an eyebrow at him.
“Girlfriend? Who have you been talking to?” Malfoy returned the smirk and started to walk away. “Ta, Potter! I’m oh-so-looking forward to our next encounter.” Harry watched him saunter out of the Great Hall, arm interlocked with Pansy’s, and turned to his two friends.
“They’re not going out?”
“Who cares,” Ron said, shrugging and finally digging into his dessert again. Hermione shook her head.
“Never went out,” she replied. At Harry’s surprised look, she went on to say, “They only went to the Yule Ball together. As friends.”
“Oh.”
“Well, come on then, you two,” Hermione said, pushing her plates away and standing up. “We need to get ready for the party.”
* * *
Due to the amount of people who had stayed behind, the D.A. had decided to throw themselves a Christmas party in the Room of Requirement that night. Dobby had taken it upon himself to help decorate, once again, so the room was very cheery. Harry was just thankful there were no decorations dedicated to him again. It ended up being quite fun and continued on late into the night, long after the eggnog and cookies were gone. Harry had mingled the whole time, wandering from group to group and talking to all his peers. He’d caught sight of Ron, Seamus, and even Zacharias Smith at one point, snickering throughout the night, pointing to something that Harry could never really figure out. Eventually, at sometime past eleven, people began filtering out of the room, until just the Gryffindors were left. They all sat chatting around the fireplace for a little while longer, but then Ginny suddenly remembered something and rushed out of the room, Dean following her. Seamus, Neville, Lavender, and Parvati retired right after that, which left Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting in a comfortable silence.
“Do you think if we just require the room to be clean, it’ll pick up everything itself?” Hermione asked eventually, snuggled into her corner of the couch. Ron was sitting next to her, but not too close, and he kept fidgeting with his hands. Harry chuckled.
“It’s a nice thought,” he said from his position on the floor where he was leaning against another armchair. “But I expect the house elves will probably clean it or something.” Hermione ‘hmmed’ in agreement, looking just a bit guilty about leaving the work for the house elves. Ron sat on his hands, nodding absently. He was flushed slightly, but then Harry cheeks also felt hot, and he figured it was from sitting so close to the fire or something. Of course… The green-eyed boy glanced back and forth between his friends, and eventually smirked. He stood, stretching his arms above his head, and headed towards the door. “Well, I’m beat, I think I’ll turn in,” he said lightly. “Happy Christmas, you two!”
“Wait- Harry!”
“Stop, no, don’t leave yet!”
Harry sighed in exasperation, turning in the open doorway and leaning against the side. “Yes?” he asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows expectantly. His two friends looked sheepish, mouths opening and closing like a couple of fish as they searched for a response.
“Oh, how quaint.” Harry frowned as he heard that drawling voice interrupting one of his conversations for the second time that day, and he looked to his side to find Malfoy leaning against the opposite door jam. He vaguely heard a muffled exclamation from inside the room, but ignored it.
“You again?” Harry asked with a sneer. “What do you want now?”
“I was bored,” Malfoy shrugged, “and wandering through the castle when I suddenly heard annoyingly loud voices coming from this direction. I saw your dorm mates walking away, and remembered that this is where we caught you lot last year. So I decided to come and make sure you weren’t…up to anything.” The blonde smirked and crossed his arms, glancing into the room, before his smirk faded a little. “Instead I see you were just having a party that I wasn’t invited to.”
“Why would we invite you?” Harry asked, eyebrows raised. Malfoy frowned, brow furrowing.
“Was it just you Gryffindors, or were the other Houses here as well?” he asked sharply.
“They were here.”
“…I see.” Something about his tone made Harry feel uncomfortable and…slightly guilty? The Slytherin was still looking about the room. “Seems like you had fun,” he commented, sounding only slightly bitter. Harry suddenly felt the need to explain or defend himself or something.
“Ah…well it- it was just the D.A., really,” he stuttered, feeling nervous for no reason he could comprehend. Malfoy didn’t respond right away, staring at Harry’s friends instead, as they appeared to be whispering urgently to each other. In fact, they’d been awfully quiet since the boy had arrived…
“Is there something wrong with your friends, Potter? I’m assuming you were trying to give them some alone time. So sorry I interrupted,” Malfoy said, not sounding sorry at all. Harry finally looked towards his friends, surprised to see their horrified faces.
“Ron, Hermione, what-“ He broke off there, noticing that their gazes were directed…directed above…them… Harry swallowed, and at the same time he and Malfoy glanced up.
Right above them, hanging innocently in the doorway, was a single sprig of mistletoe.
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