When the four Triwizard champions had agreed to a friendly little seeker's match before Christmas, they had decided to keep it low-key, just between them.
So, naturally, the entire castle found out.
Harry walked with his Firebolt over his shoulder, wearing his Gryffindor quidditch team robes, down a gap that had parted in the huge crowd of people on the Hogwarts lawn. He met with Cedric, Fleur and Viktor in the middle, as well as another Durmstrang student called Boris. Boris had a whistle around his neck, and was holding a small metal box. "So much for keeping this quiet, eh?" Harry remarked, and the other three grinned sheepishly.
"I may haff mentioned it a couple of times," Viktor admitted.
"I told Cho, and a few friends."
"Ze Beauxbatons students asked, and I could not lie to zem."
Harry laughed. "That's alright. That lot over there are my fault," he confessed, pointing to a cluster of Hogwarts students with the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team and Neville at the very front. "It's more fun with an audience, anyway." He hadn't expected an audience of quite this caliber, but he could handle it. It was just… practically half the population of Hogwarts, plus all the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. Watching him face off against an internationally acclaimed seeker.
No big deal.
Across the crowd, stood in a group of Slytherins and Durmstrang students, Harry saw Draco. The blond was sneering, but when he caught Harry's eye, his expression softened for the barest of seconds. It was enough to give Harry the boost of confidence he needed. He could do this.
"Okay," Boris declared firmly, his voice magically louder to be heard over the crowd. "Here are the rules. All four seekers will begin on their brooms with both feet on the ground and eyes closed. I will release the snitch, count fifteen seconds, and then blow my whistle. Only then can the seekers take off." His Russian-accented English filled the air as the spectators went hushed, practically vibrating with excitement. "There will be fifteen rounds, and whoever has the most points at the end wins. If it is a tie, we will have a tiebreaker round between those seekers. Usual match rules apply. Seekers, are we clear?"
All four of them nodded. Boris grinned. "May I have a volunteer each from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons?"
One of Fleur's friends, a girl called Adrienne, stepped forward with Angelina Johnson beside her. Boris held out the box, flicking it open to reveal a shining golden snitch. "Ladies, please inspect the snitch and assure our audience that Durmstrang is playing fairly."
Both girls checked the snitch over with keen eyes and wands, and eventually stepped back, handing it to Boris. "It's clean," Angelina confirmed. "Professional standard, not tampered with that I can see."
"C'est bon. We are good to play," Adrienne agreed, grinning. They stepped back to join their friends in the crowd.
"Seekers, take your places."
Harry stood between Cedric and Fleur, with Viktor on Cedric's other side. He grinned at them, adrenaline coursing through his body. This was going to be epic.
"Eyes closed please!" Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his pulse in his ears, keeping his breathing steady as Boris announced he was releasing the snitch. The crowd was near-silent, listening to him count down. It was nothing like the seeker's match Harry had against Charlie in the summer. He thought their audience might be more invested in this than in the Triwizard tasks themselves.
"Three…two…one…" The whistle blew and Harry took off, shooting high up into the sky and immediately looking around for any glimpse of gold. The other three seekers did the same, swooping in fast loops around their makeshift pitch. Harry didn't bother trying to tail any of them; when there were three potential opponents, it wasn't worth putting all his eggs in one basket. He'd never played seeker against more than one person before, and he was intrigued to see how it would end up.
He ducked beneath Fleur, who was flying in the opposite direction as him. All thought of the audience had gone right out of his mind, his only focus the snitch.
All of a sudden, he saw Cedric change course abruptly. Harry automatically went after him, not willing to take the chance that it was a fake-out — he'd made the right choice, seeing a tiny flash of gold up ahead. He leaned in flat on his broom, willing it to go faster, corkscrewing under Cedric to get the upper hand. Above him, Viktor appeared, and Fleur wasn't far behind him. The snitch veered sharply to the left, and there was almost a four-seeker pile-up as they all changed course to follow it. Harry inched forward, feeling other people close in around him, but he was almost there… his hand closed around cool metal.
"First point goes to Harry Potter of Hogwarts!"
He'd caught the snitch. He grinned to himself, seeing Cedric scowl playfully as he slowed down, the chase over. Harry turned to fly back to the starting point, handing the snitch over to Boris.
Fourteen more rounds to go.
.-.-.
By round thirteen, the competition was getting intense, but none of the seekers were showing signs of tiring. Viktor was in the lead with four points, while Harry and Fleur both had three, and Cedric was on two. Harry was sweating even in the December cold, but he couldn't stop smiling. He was having the time of his life.
"Round thirteen!" Boris announced. "Seekers, take your places!"
They'd been out there for almost two hours already, and the crowd had thinned a little. Obviously some people hadn't realised just how long it was going to take four seekers to go for the snitch fifteen times. There were still plenty of people out watching them, though — they'd even gained a couple of teachers, in the form of Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout.
Round thirteen didn't last long — Viktor caught the snitch within the first few minutes, taking him up to five points. Harry grit his teeth, refusing to let the Bulgarian wizard get too much of a lead. If he was going to lose, he wanted to do so by only a point or two.
Round fourteen ended up with Harry hanging practically upside-down off his broom to catch the snitch above the heads of a group of sixth year girls, having to be very careful not to crash right into them. He brought the snitch back to Boris and settled in for the final round. He was only one point behind Viktor. Maybe, just maybe, he could catch it and send them into a tiebreaker. As they reset, Viktor smirked at Harry. "Coming for my lead, are you?"
"Gonna try," Harry returned with a grin, mounting his broom and squeezing his eyes shut on Boris' command. He took off at the whistle, settling into his usual loop and seeing the other three do the same All of them were desperate to score one last point — Viktor to secure his victory, Harry to go for the tiebreaker, and Cedric and Fleur to just stop Viktor beating the rest of them by too many points.
Suddenly Fleur was dropping into a dive, determination on her face. Harry automatically moved to follow, eventually seeing what the French witch was seeing; the snitch was practically right next to Boris, back where it had started. Cheeky little thing.
Boris seemed to realise the issue and dropped to his belly on the grass, rolling away before the two seekers could come crashing into him. Fleur was just edging in front of Harry, but he pushed on, leaning as far forward on his broom as he would dare without tipping too far and going arse over teakettle. Fleur clearly wasn't as comfortable pushing the boundaries as Harry, keeping her centre of gravity squarely over the middle of the broom, and it was that hesitance that allowed Harry to edge out and grab the snitch just ahead of her. He had to lurch back as soon as his fingers closed around metal, sliding to a halt.
The crowd was roaring. Cedric was laughing. Even Fleur looked grudgingly impressed. Viktor, on the other hand, pulled up next to Harry, staring at him for a long minute. "I vas not expecting you to be this good," he said eventually, looking quite put out about that. Harry beamed.
They returned to Boris, who looked utterly gobsmacked by the turn of events. "Friends, we have a tiebreaker situation! Harry Potter and Viktor Krum have both finished on five points! Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour will bow out for this final round, if I can please have a round of applause for their efforts."
Harry and Viktor both joined in with the applause, and the other two champions were smiling as they shouldered their brooms and walked to join their friends in the crowd. With just the two of them left, a hush fell over the audience. Boris flashed a smirk. "And then there were two," he remarked, playing with the string of his whistle. "The rules are much the same. Eyes closed, fifteen seconds, start on the whistle. This will be the round that decides it — one snitch, two seekers, winner takes it all. Are you ready?"
The two seekers shared a glance, then nodded. They got into position, either side of Boris. Harry shut his eyes, taking several steadying breaths to focus himself while Boris counted down, and then on the whistle he was off.
It was different, playing with two instead of four. Easier, honestly; fewer people to keep an eye on in case they saw the snitch. It felt more like a real quidditch match, except he wasn't having to dodge bludgers — and he'd never played a real match against such a good seeker before.
The pair of them were circling up high, Harry's eyes darting back and forth as he tried to find the snitch. Minutes passed. Of course the last round wasn't going to go quickly; it was like the snitch knew.
All of a sudden, Viktor dropped into a sharp dive. Harry didn't hesitate to follow — even though he'd seen Viktor use that tactic before, if there was even the chance he was going for the snitch, Harry had to tail him.
He couldn't see anything as they sped towards the ground, but that didn't mean Viktor didn't have it. The grass grew closer and closer, and Harry grinned to himself He's going for the Wronski Feint. He remembered seeing Lynch smash into the ground at the World Cup — Harry wouldn't do that. He could handle this.
Knowing Krum was just faking him out, Harry used the dive to keep looking for the snitch, unruffled by the ever-nearing ground. He was barely fifteen feet from the grass when he saw it; a glimmer of gold. He'd have to do almost a total 180 when he pulled out of the dive, but he didn't think Viktor had seen it.
Viktor was holding out until the last second to pull from his dive. Harry didn't scare that easily. He was neck and neck with the Bulgarian now, Viktor flat on his broom as if he was chasing the snitch, even though Harry knew he couldn't be. He had to wait — the snitch was closer to Viktor than him. If he pulled out too early, Viktor would see why, and he'd be able to get there first. Harry had to leave it until the very last second.
The grass was even closer. Viktor spared a split second to glance Harry's way incredulously, then pulled up, shooting back up towards his previous position, convinced Harry was going to hit the dirt. There. Harry wrenched his broom level and twisted at the same time, his toes brushing the ground as he narrowly escaped ploughing head-first into it, the G-force dragging against him as he spun around, doing a little roll to take out some of the momentum and then speeding forwards until the snitch was in his hand. He had done it.
He had beaten Viktor Krum at quidditch.
Blood was rushing in his ears as he slowed to a halt and stumbled off his broom, almost falling as his knees buckled slightly. Sixteen rounds of hard seeking was finally starting to get to him, and he couldn't wait to go sit down somewhere. He grinned, holding the snitch up triumphantly, barely hearing the cheers of the crowd as his racing pulse echoed in his skull.
"We have a winner, folks!" Boris was saying, striding over to Harry's side. He grabbed the hand holding the snitch, thrusting it into the air. "Harry Potter of Hogwarts takes it all! Are you all as surprised as I am?"
The official confirmation seemed to be all it took for the dam to break, and the next thing Harry knew he was being hoisted onto the shoulders of the Weasley twins, the crowd swarming around him excitedly.
"He's only bloody done it!" one of the twins crowed, their arms wrapped around his legs to keep him steady. He could see Cedric beaming in the crowd, Cho by his side applauding wildly. Over by the crestfallen Durmstrang crowd was Draco, pretending to be annoyed, but Harry could see the awe in his eyes.
Eventually the twins set him down, slapping him on the back and beaming at him. "Come up to the common room when you're done here," Fred told him. "We're definitely celebrating this. Mate, you just beat Viktor bloody Krum!"
It sounded bizarre when it was said aloud like that. Harry nodded, grateful when the twins herded the crowd back towards the castle, and turned to find Boris and give him the snitch back. The Durmstrang boy was stood beside Viktor, patting him on the shoulder. "That was a tough match," Harry said when he approached, smiling hesitantly at Viktor. He hoped the older boy wasn't too mad about it — he had a reputation to uphold, after all. "You almost had me with that feint there."
"Almost, but not enough," Viktor replied, and he was smiling. "I knew it vhen I saw you fly against the dragon, but I vill say again — you fly very well." He reached out, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "If you are not on your country's team by the time you are my age, it vill be a travesty. But vhen you are, I look forward to flying against you once more."
Harry gaped at him. Was Viktor seriously saying Harry could go pro? Not just pro, but international? "I… yeah," he said breathlessly, unsure what else to say to that. "Anytime you want a rematch, I'm there."
Boris plucked the snitch from Harry's fingers, grinning. "That was fun," he declared, tucking it away safely in its box. "And now the team will get off your back about training, Viktor."
"I don't know," Viktor said ruefully, "perhaps now they vill be even more on my back, if I can be beaten by a fourteen year-old." He smiled at Harry to show he was teasing. Then he looked down at himself. "I need a shower."
Harry looked at the state of his own robes, and grimaced. Yeah, a shower and new clothes sounded good. How could he get so sweaty in December?
"See you at dinner?" The two Durmstrang boys nodded. Viktor paused, holding out a hand for Harry to shake.
"I am serious," he said, dark eyes fixed on Harry. "You haff talent. If playing professionally is something that interests you, I know people. You should not vaste that talent, if it is something you love." He softened slightly. "I know you may haff other priorities. But ve vill keep in touch, and if you ever need help, I vill be happy to assist." There was something significant about his words and the look on his face — like he wasn't just offering Harry help with quidditch. Harry shook his hand, equally serious.
"Thanks, Viktor. I'll keep that in mind."
The two boys parted, and Viktor let Boris sling an arm over his shoulder as the two of them made their way back to their ship. Harry shouldered his broom, heading up to the castle alone. At least, he thought he was alone. "Oi, Potter!" The quiet hiss made a grin tug at his lips. Draco was leaning up against the back wall of one of the greenhouses, his cheeks rosy from the cold and his hair slightly windswept. Harry's heart skipped a beat. Merlin, he was gorgeous. "You just had to show off, didn't you?"
Harry changed course, throwing up a privacy ward as he hurried towards Draco. Giddy from his win and unable to help himself, he grabbed the blond by the hips and spun him around, kissing him firmly. Draco's arms automatically came up around his neck, chest pressing against Harry's as he leaned into the kiss. When he pulled back, he made a face. "You're disgusting right now," he said, poking at Harry's sweaty robes. Leaning back against the glass of the greenhouse, he smirked at Harry. "I can't believe you just beat Viktor Krum."
"He said I should go professional," Harry breathed, gobsmacked.
"You certainly could," Draco agreed. He clearly didn't care that much about Harry's sweaty state, as he tugged him closer, sliding a hand down to grab his arse cheekily. "I could do worse than a professional quidditch player for a boyfriend," he teased. "At least it'll keep you fit."
Harry wasn't sure what hit him harder; the thought of being a pro quidditch player, or the thought of still being Draco's boyfriend by that time. That Draco didn't even hesitate to assume they would still be together by then. Unable to find the words, he placed a hand either side of Draco's head and leaned in for another kiss, moaning softly. "We're gonna get caught," Draco muttered between kisses, not slowing down in the slightest. Harry smirked against the blond's lips.
"Worth it." Even so, he eventually pulled himself away, still boxing Draco in against the greenhouse glass.
"I suppose you've got to go up and celebrate with all your Gryffindor friends," Draco drawled.
"I'd much rather celebrate with you," Harry returned. "But also I really want to put on clothes that aren't sweaty."
Draco snorted, shaking his head. "Such a romantic," he teased. "Go on, sod off. If you keep kissing me wearing those, I'm going to find it verydifficult to concentrate next time Slytherin play Gryffindor." His grey eyes were dark and his pupils blown, and Harry smirked. So his quidditch robes did it for Draco, hmm? That was a good thing to know. Feeling daring, still riding high on victory, Harry leaned in until he was pressed against Draco from knee to shoulder — until he could feel Draco's hardness pressing against his thigh, and there was no way Draco couldn't feel Harry's. He let his lips trail over the blond's jaw, feeling him tense and arch up into the touch ever so slightly. It was tempting to get carried away. They'd never gone past kissing before, except for a few adventuring hands underneath shirts. Certainly nothing like this. Harry was so turned on he could barely think, but he had enough blood left in his brain to know that getting too hot and heavy out behind the greenhouses was just asking for trouble.
"Think of this next time we play against each other," he breathed, sucking a kiss on Draco's neck that the Slytherin would have to cover with a glamour. Then he pulled away, green eyes glinting playfully. "I'll see you later, Draco. I've got to go take a shower." A cold, cold shower.
Stepping away as if nothing had happened, he grinned to himself at the frustrated groan Draco let out. "I hate you, Potter!" he called as Harry walked away. The Gryffindor laughed, dropping the privacy ward.
He was having an excellent day.
.-.
Luckily, when he got back to Gryffindor Tower, his mussed state could be explained away as quidditch — to everyone except the Weasley twins who were eyeing him knowingly. "Go on, loverboy," George whispered in his ear, herding him towards the dormitory stairs with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Go clean yourself up. We'll stall down here."
The common room was packed with people; not just Gryffindors, but people of all houses, wanting to celebrate Harry's victory over the Bulgarian seeker. Even Cassius was there with a couple of his Slytherin friends, only looking a little bit disturbed at being surrounded by so much red and gold.
As tempting as it was to spend more time in the shower thinking about what might have happened if he and Draco had been a little bolder, Harry refused to let his thoughts wander far — the twins could only keep people occupied for so long. He changed into his Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and comfortable jeans, heading back down to the party. Now that he was actually paying attention, he was impressed at how quickly the twins had prepared for the gathering; there was a long table of snacks, no doubt stolen from the kitchens, and a huge stack of butterbeer crates. Music played beneath the chatter of the crowd, and they'd even managed to string some more Christmas decorations up — all in Gryffindor colours, of course.
Harry found the pair sat with an assortment of other sixth years, as well as Neville, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. There was a gap on the sofa between the twins, and Harry squeezed himself into it. "Cheers," he said, both for the saved seat and for distracting everyone from wondering what was taking Harry so long. Fred merely winked at him, grinning.
"Where'd you get that t-shirt, Harry?" Ron asked, eyeing the green Harpies shirt over. Harry shrugged.
"Birthday present." Let them think it was from Sirius.
"I'm glad someone here has taste," Ginny teased, offering Harry a fist-bump. "The Harpies are way better than the Cannons."
That set Ron off on a long rant about how the Cannons were trying their best with poor management, and Harry rolled his eyes, turning instead to the older students. "Welcome to Gryffindor," he said to the assorted non-Gryffindors, grinning up at Cho as she returned with several bottles of butterbeer in hand, clambering over the back of the sofa to perch in Cedric's lap. She handed a bottle to Harry, smiling.
"Oh, I've been up here before," Cassius said offhandedly. "The Christmas decorations are a nice touch, though. Very festive."
"When have you been up here?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows. The Slytherin's olive cheeks flushed.
"None of your business, Potter," he retorted. Harry smirked at him, wondering if it had to do with his mysterious someone. Was Cassius dating a Gryffindor?
"That was some brilliant flying, Harry!" Cho enthused, tapping the neck of her bottle against Harry's own. "Really impressive!"
"Yeah, I didn't know you had it in you, Potter!" Patrick, one of Cedric's roommates, added with a grin. "Bet Krum'll think twice about challenging people in future."
Despite definitely being more Cedric's friends than Harry's, none of them seemed upset that Harry had so firmly beaten Cedric. Even Cedric himself was grinning, insisting he was proud of himself for even catching the snitch twice. "I was playing well out of my league," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Both in brooms and in skill. But it was loads of fun!"
"I'll let you try out my Firebolt sometime," Harry promised. "You too, Cho, if you want." The Ravenclaw seeker lit up at that.
While Harry was still getting random people coming up to congratulate him, the party seemed to have changed from a celebration of his victory to an informal Christmas gathering, everyone just enjoying being able to hang out. It made Harry wonder why the school didn't have some sort of inter-house common room — again, nobody encouraged the houses to mix. It was ridiculous!
The happy atmosphere was abruptly broken when the portrait hole swung open, and McGonagall stepped into the room. She blinked, doing a double-take at the crowd inside. With a wave of her wand, the music cut off, and everyone turned to her with wide eyes. "I was told of a disruption in the Gryffindor common room," she declared, tone firm. "What, may I ask, is the meaning of this?"
"Harry beat Viktor Krum at quidditch!" Seamus piped up from the back of the room. McGonagall pursed her lips.
"I am aware. I was present," she said. "That does not explain why the common room is overrun. This is supposed to be a space for Gryffindors!"
"The school rules say we're allowed to bring guests, Professor," Katie Bell pointed out. McGonagall didn't look impressed.
"One guest, Miss Bell," she retorted sternly. "One guest per person."
All of a sudden, the crowd shifted. George reached out to sling an arm around Cassius' shoulders. Fred put a hand on Cedric's arm. Harry reached over to grab Cho's hand. All over the common room, Gryffindors were claiming their non-Gryffindor companions, until everyone was in pairs. Every single guest was accounted for. McGonagall's face was tight, her lips a thin line that most people assumed was her trying to stifle her anger. Harry knew better — his housemistress was trying really hard not to smile. "Very well," she said eventually. "Just keep the noise down. And make sure the password is changed by this evening, Miss Dunn." The seventh year prefect nodded, smiling with her arm linked with Beatrice Haywood from Hufflepuff.
"Yes, Professor," she chirped, cheeks dimpled. McGonagall nodded curtly.
"Carry on, then." She let the music resume and turned on her heel, leaving them to their party. Harry let go of Cho's hand with a grin.
Perhaps the Gryffindor housemistress wasn't quite as much under Dumbledore's thumb as he thought.
.-.-.-.
The day after the now-legendary seeker's match was Christmas Eve, and Harry was up in the dorm alone, reading quietly before lunch. He was sore after all that flying, and not really in the mood for being down in the crowds after the day before. Peace and quiet was becoming a rare thing, and he'd take what he could get.
Leaning back against his headboard, Harry blinked when a piece of parchment suddenly appeared between the open pages of his book. It was a small note, with only two words in a very familiar handwriting. Come down.
What did Snape need him for on Christmas Eve? Harry had assumed the man would be back at Seren Du with Remus. Maybe Remus had come to Hogwarts instead!
Perking up, Harry marked his page and set the book aside, burning the note with a quick spell. Grabbing his presents for the three adults — at the very least he could send Snape off with the presents for Remus and Sirius — he stowed them in his bag and tugged on his shoes, swinging his invisibility cloak over his shoulders.
The hallways were full of people on the way down to the dungeons, but Harry was a pro at avoiding everyone by now, bobbing and weaving through the students without any of them noticing him. He made it to the empty corridor that held the portrait entrance to Snape's quarters, and knocked. The door opened just wide enough to admit Harry, and once he was inside he took off the invisibility cloak, turning to face the room at large. His jaw dropped, before a huge grin overtook his features. "Sirius!"
His godfather was sat on Snape's sofa, and he got to his feet when Harry appeared, beaming. "Hey, pup! Merry Christmas!" Harry raced across the room and threw himself into the man's arms, a little embarrassed by how happy he was to see Sirius. Summer had been so long ago. Sirius kissed his hair, holding him tight. Suddenly, Harry pulled back.
"Is it safe?" he asked, brow furrowing in worry. "What if Dumbledore finds out?"
"Relax, cub," Remus said from the small kitchen area, where he was pouring a glass of wine. "Dumbledore still doesn't even know that I've been visiting all term; he isn't going to know Sirius is here. It's safe." Wine in hand, he walked over to wind an arm around Harry's shoulders, squeezing him affectionately. "Merry Christmas. I heard you had quite the quidditch match yesterday."
"Who told you?"
"I was decorating the steps of the Entrance Hall under Dumbledore's orders," Snape supplied. "There was a surprisingly good view of the grounds."
It made Harry smile all the wider to think that Snape had been watching him fly, and then told Remus about it.
"I can't believe you beat Viktor Krum!" Sirius enthused, ruffling Harry's hair. "Amazing, pup!"
Harry blushed, almost saying something about Viktor's insistence he go pro after graduation. It was too early to start making career choices — especially with the way his future was looking. Once there was no longer a Dark Lord out for his blood, or a headmaster trying to manipulate him, then maybe he could think about playing professional quidditch.
"So how have you been, Padfoot? What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you, you twit," Sirius replied with a roll of his eyes. "It's Christmas! Moony managed to persuade Severus to allow a minor Gryffindor invasion for the occasion." He wiggled his eyebrows, winking at the pair. "He has to stay and chaperone the ball tomorrow, and we figured you'd be busy, so we thought we'd celebrate a day early. Is that alright?"
There was a quiet pop, and Snape's small dining table was suddenly loaded down with food, Ceri stood beside it with a bright grin on her wrinkled face. "Master Harry, sir!" she greeted. "It is good to be seeings you well. You is gettings skinny again," she added, eyeing him over.
Harry supposed it was probably the stress of the tournament; he'd only forgotten to eat a few times in the last couple of months. "It's good to see you too, Ceri. Did you cook all this?" There was turkey and stuffing and vegetables, fluffy roast potatoes and a huge boat of gravy, even a plate stacked with pigs in blankets. The elf nodded happily.
"Christmas dinner for masters and family," she announced. "Can I be getting anything else?"
"This all looks fantastic, Ceri," Sirius told her. "Thank you."
Ceri beamed once more, then disappeared, and Sirius nudged Harry towards the table. "Go on, pup. Tuck in! You can tell me all about your game yesterday."
The four of them sat at the table, and there was a minor amount of chaos as they all served themselves, passing dishes around and trying not to spill gravy on anyone. When they all had full plates, Sirius cleared his throat. "I won't get too sappy, or Snape might come out in a rash," he said teasingly, "but for a long time, I never thought I'd have this again. Christmas. Love. Family. Yes, even you, you greasy bat," he added, making Snape scowl. "There should be more people at this table, but the world can be cold at times. So I just wanted to thank all of you, for being the warmth in my life." Sirius swallowed a little thickly. Harry wondered how many glasses of wine he'd had already. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," they all murmured in response, even Snape, lifting their glasses to tap together in the centre of the table. Harry had been allowed a small glass of wine, and the taste was foreign; he must have made a face, as Remus chuckled opposite him.
"It takes some getting used to," he said, drinking from his own, much larger glass.
Harry was gently bullied into recounting the seekers' match as they ate, before conversation turned to other things, always managing to come back around to the Yule Ball. Every time Harry tried to ask about what the adults had been up to — any time he tried to get information about Voldemort and Pettigrew — he was gently brushed off and the subject was quickly changed. He appreciated that they didn't want to talk about such serious things at Christmas, but Harry was desperate for information. He hadn't had any more dreams that he could remember, but every now and then he woke up with his scar aching. "Time for presents!" Sirius declared once they had thoroughly demolished the chocolate yule log cake Ceri brought in. He urged Harry over to the sofa, bounding after him. Remus and Snape followed at a more sedate pace, Remus looking thoroughly amused by Sirius' enthusiasm. Snape just looked resigned to it all, his shoulder gently pressing against Remus' once they sat down. With a wave of Remus' wand, a pile of wrapped gifts came floating over from a corner of the room, settling on the coffee table. Harry reached into his bag, adding the presents for the adults to the stack.
"Right, Harry first!" Sirius said, tossing a present Harry's way.
"No, let's all open them together," Harry insisted, not wanting all of them staring at him while he opened presents. His birthday had been bad enough! "Here, I got these for you guys." He distributed his presents, smiling shyly at Snape's look of surprise.
"You got me a Christmas present?" the Slytherin asked quietly, eyebrows rising. Harry nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap as he shredded a scrap of wrapping paper. "I… thank you."
There was a painfully awkward silence, until Remus cleared his throat. "These books are brilliant, Harry, thank you! Have you read them?" He started talking to Harry about the stack of Defence books in his lap, allowing Snape to open his present without all the attention on him — something that both Harry and the Potions Master appreciated.
By the end of it all, Harry had a small mountain of presents to take back to Gryffindor Tower, and Sirius was just tipsy enough to be singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs. None of them were willing to tell him to stop — not even Snape. Sirius had been through a lot in the last decade; he deserved a bit of joy at Christmas. Harry merely joined in with the carols he knew, laughing when Sirius drew closer and closer to Remus, shaking him by the shoulders until he was singing with them as well. Even drunk, Sirius knew to leave Snape well alone, and the Slytherin looked like he was regretting many life choices. "I think I'd best get this lush back home," Remus said eventually, laughing. "Let you get on with the rest of your Christmas surprise, Harry."
"There's more?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised. Remus winked at him.
"I suggest when you're done here, you head to the Potions classroom," Snape told him, his face impassive. Harry's curiosity began to burn; what could possibly be waiting for him in the classroom? Another present?
Sirius threw himself at Harry, making the boy stumble a little as he was wrapped in a tight hug. "Have fun at the Yule Ball," the dog animagus instructed. "Dance lots, don't give a damn about Skeeter or any of the reporters, and snog your boyfriend if you get a quiet minute." He cackled when Harry blushed. "Seriously, kiddo. You've been under a lot of stress lately. Just forget it all and enjoy yourself, alright? You deserve it." He dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead, ruffling his hair.
"I'll try," Harry promised. He turned to hug Remus. "Thanks for coming. And bringing Sirius with you."
"We couldn't miss out on family Christmas," Remus insisted. A lump grew in Harry's throat. His first ever family Christmas, of a sort. "I'll see you in the new year, cub. Behave yourself." That was said with a lopsided smile; Remus knew better than to genuinely expect that of him. Harry grinned.
"I'll try," he said again.
"Not very hard, I'm sure," Snape drawled lightly. Harry turned to the man, even more wrong-footed about him than he had been during the summer. At least there they were away from school and lessons and all the things reminding Harry of his evil Potions professor. Having Snape like this — like family — in the middle of the school year was weird to say the least. Just a week before, the man had been yelling at him about his stirring technique.
"I'll see you at the ball tomorrow, Professor," he said eventually, assuming the man would be going back to Seren Du as well. He and Remus hadn't exchanged gifts; they were probably going to do their own private Christmas. Harry didn't want to think about it too much. "Thanks for hosting this."
"I don't believe I was given a choice," Snape replied, though he didn't look too upset by it. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Potter."
"You could at least try and call me Harry, y'know," Harry replied cheekily, shouldering his bag. "It might not kill you."
"Get out of here, brat." Harry laughed, swinging the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and leaving the man's private quarters.
Harry moved as quickly as he dared under the cloak, heading straight for the Potions room. The door was locked, but a quick Alohomora made easy work of it. When Harry slipped in, he let out a quiet gasp.
The room had been utterly transformed. All the desks and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room, and in the space in the centre was a dark green blanket laid out on the floor, a tiny little Christmas tree in the centre. Floating all around the room were multicoloured little fairy lights, twinkling softly. In the midst of it all, smiling as Harry removed his cloak, was Draco. "I was wondering when you would show up," the Slytherin greeted, sat on the blanket.
"Draco," Harry breathed, looking around in wonder. "This is amazing!"
"Uncle Severus said as long as it's all back to normal by morning, we can stay in here as long as we like," Draco relayed. He wrinkled his nose. "He also said several other things that I wish I could Obliviate from my mind, but I won't traumatise you by repeating them."
Harry snorted, even as his stomach turned a little bit at the thought of Snape contemplating any part of his potential sex life. He hadn't had a talk from Sirius or Remus yet — he'd managed to avoid that for now by telling Sirius about the book George had given him. With any luck, it would stay that way.
He left his cloak in a pile by the door and joined Draco on the blanket, leaning in for a kiss. "What's all this for?"
"There's no way the two of us are going to get any time alone in all of tomorrow's chaos," Draco said. "I just wanted to see you. When Severus told me what Remus was planning for today, I thought I'd jump in off the back of it, since you'd already be down in the dungeons." He smiled shyly, running a thumb over Harry's cheekbone. "I have to take my opportunities where I can. Once school starts back up, you'll be in a dozen places at once again."
"I'll still have time for you," Harry insisted.
"But will you have time for this?" Draco retorted, gesturing to the room at large. "We don't have to be anywhere or do anything until curfew. No one but Severus knows we're in here."
Harry's eyes darkened as his brain ran through several ways the evening could play out — all of which were probably things Snape had told Draco not to do. Well, what the Potions Master didn't know couldn't hurt him.
"If I'd known, I would've brought your Christmas present with me," he said sadly, thinking of the wrapped gift hidden in his trunk. Draco smirked.
"I actually had Ceri help me with that one." He gestured to the small tree on the blanket, making Harry realise there were two wrapped gifts beneath it; one of which was his gift for Draco.
"Sneaky snake," Harry murmured, pressing his lips to Draco's with a soft sigh. "Should we open them now?" He was suddenly nervous about his gift, and he didn't want to spend the whole evening worrying about Draco's response to it.
They exchanged gifts and opened them simultaneously, neither wanting the pressure of being stared at while they unwrapped their present. Harry eyed his curiously; it was a palm-sized disc of shiny black stone, engraved with runes all over. He glanced up at Draco, who smiled tentatively. "It's a Meditation Wardstone," the blond explained. "Put it under your pillow, and it'll make it easier for you to meditate before bed — and strengthen your Occlumency shields while you're asleep. I know you've been having those dreams, and I… I thought it would help."
Harry's breath caught in his throat, his gaze turning back to the stone with awe. "That sounds amazing, Draco… this is brilliant." Harry had never heard of such a thing before; they probably weren't common. What lengths had Draco gone to just to get one for him?
Suddenly, his gift to Draco seemed meagre in comparison. "I, uh— Fleur recommended it," he explained, gesturing to the book of French-language spells in Draco's lap. "Apparently there's some more obscure and older spells in there. I know it's not much, but—"
"I love it," Draco insisted, leaning over for a quick kiss. "I can't wait to find something to hex Weasley with — even Granger will never think of a French counter-spell." Harry snickered; the way the pair had been treating him all year, he'd like to see that, too.
Still beaming from his gift, Harry shuffled closer to Draco. "So what's the plan now?" he asked playfully, watching Draco's eyes widen.
"We could play cards," Draco suggested casually, even as his fingers began to creep up towards the hem of Harry's t-shirt.
"Hmm," Harry agreed, running his fingers through Draco's pale hair.
"We could have another dance lesson."
Harry made a face at that, and Draco chuckled. Suddenly, he stretched his leg out and pushed, toppling Harry gently until he was on his back on the blanket, Draco's knees either side of his hips. The blond leaned in close. "We could talk about how hot you looked on your broom yesterday, and how much of an arse you were to just leave me in that state." His words came out as a growl, and Harry smirked.
"I thought you liked my arse," he teased, fingers still twined in the short blond strands at the back of Draco's head, bringing him in for a kiss. Draco groaned.
"Missing the point, Potter," he muttered. He lowered himself slowly until he was propped up on his elbows, chest-to-chest with Harry, and both boys gasped as something else connected much lower. Harry wiggled until only one of his legs was between Draco's, the other bent slightly to keep the taller boy in place as he leaned up into the kiss, sneaking one hand up the back of Draco's shirt. Draco's hips rocked down against his, and Harry let out a muffled groan.
"Draco," he breathed, his pulse pounding wildly. They'd never done much past a little snogging and above-belt groping, and he was near dizzy with how good it all felt. He tugged at the hem of Draco's shirt. "Can I? Off."
"You too," Draco urged, sitting up and pulling off his t-shirt. Harry forgot to breathe for a second. The blond's skin was pale and flawless, two dusky pink nipples perked on his chest, the ridges of his abs holding a faint dusting of silvery hair that trailed down to the waistband of his trousers. Fuck, he was hot. Draco's blush turned out to go all the way down his neck and chest, and he hurriedly pulled at Harry's t-shirt until the Gryffindor sat up the best he could, trying not to get his glasses tangled in the shirt as it came over his head. It was Draco's turn to stare.
Harry squirmed, forcing himself not to cover his chest with his arms; the summer at Seren Du had helped, but he was still a little scrawny, with the barest attempt at chest hair just beginning. He was glad for the low light of the classroom, hoping it would be enough that Draco wouldn't see the scars from his time at the Dursleys. Most of them were on his back, anyway.
"Beautiful," Draco declared in a whisper, leaning down to kiss Harry, gasping into it as their bare skin pressed together. "Harry, Merlin," Draco's hips began to rock more frantically, and Harry matched him, desperate for more friction. It felt amazing, like fireworks against his skin and in his belly, Draco's lips moving down to suck bruises on his neck, fingers skating up his abs and then down, lower, brushing over the front of Harry's jeans. Harry moaned, his vision going white as he was overloaded with sensation, coming in his jeans and pressing up against Draco's fingers. He heard Draco swear softly, bucking his hips a couple more times, and then the blond bit down on his neck to stifle a cry, slumping against him after few moments.
They lay there for several long seconds, breathing heavily, Harry's fingertips absently tracing the ridges of Draco's spine. "Wow," he murmured. Draco shifted a little, tilting his head to look him in the eye.
"If you say that was 'nice', I'm going to hit you."
Harry barked out a laugh. "That was a lot better than nice," he assured, smirking. "That was… wow." He'd never done anything like that before. Barely even let himself imagine it. Even without Draco touching him down there, it was still so much better than being by himself in the dorm. "Pretty sure that was on Snape's list of things not to do in here."
"Ugh, don't bring my godfather into this," Draco said with a grimace. He rolled off Harry, but didn't go far, their shoulders pressed together. "Now I'm all sticky."
Harry reached for his wand, casting a Cleaning charm over them both. It felt odd on his oversensitive skin, but it was better than the uncomfortable mess cooling in his boxers. He turned his head to the side, looking at Draco, unable to keep the soft smile off his face. The Slytherin looked at him suspiciously.
"Why are you grinning like a loon? Did I break you already?" Harry laughed again, rolling over so he was the one on top this time, pinning Draco's hands beneath his own and leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose.
"I'm just really happy," he admitted, uncaring that it made him sound like the sappiest Gryffindor around. He'd had a great day with his family, and now he got to be alone with his boyfriend. It was the best Christmas he'd ever had.
"Gross," Draco declared, but he was smiling too, tangling his fingers with Harry's. "You're going to destroy my reputation one of these days, Potter."
"Too late, you chose this," Harry retorted smugly. He shuffled down until he was lying half on top of Draco, head pillowed on the blond's shoulder. "That's the thing about Gryffindors; we're stubborn. You're stuck with me now."
Draco sighed, even as his hand curled possessively around Harry's hip. "So many regrets," he murmured, making Harry grin.
"Liar."
.-.-.-.
It took a lot of effort for the pair to pry themselves apart once curfew drew nearer, but eventually they managed it, Harry giving Draco one last long kiss before leaving the blond to set the classroom back to rights, heading up to Gryffindor Tower. He took his cloak off a few corridors away, falling in with all the other students cutting it very close to curfew. He tried to get the stupid smile off his face before he went into the common room, but it was a lost cause. He kept his head down and made a beeline for the stairs up to the boys' dorms, praying he could get into bed without anyone asking where he'd been.
Luckily, Neville was the only one in the dorm when Harry entered, and the Longbottom heir gave him a once-over, eyebrows raising in suspicion. "I'm not going to interrogate you," he said eventually. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."
"You're the best, Neville," Harry said sincerely. Neville grinned at him.
"I'm just glad to see you happy." His hazel eyes turned mischievous. "You, uh, might want to learn some glamour charms, though."
Harry's cheeks burned as he slapped a hand to his neck, where he was sure there were several love bites. Damn it, Draco! Neville snickered.
The dormitory door slammed open, and Ron came stomping in with a dark look on his face. "Where have you been?" he asked Harry rudely. Harry resisted the urge to glare.
"None of your business," he replied automatically, his good mood deflating instantly. "I'm going to bed."
He didn't blame Dean and Seamus for hardly ever being in the dorm these days, if this was what Ron was like all the time. Hopefully things would get better after Christmas.