There was a scream and then an awful lot of shouting. Harry looked at Draco who raised an eyebrow and then they both headed off at speed in the direction of the sound of distress. There was snow all over the ground, but the path they were using appeared well trodden and it had been enchanted to prevent the pupils and staff slipping.
The scream had been quite heartfelt and several possible reasons had leapt into Harry's head: the top of the list being another of Voldemort's stunts and, further down, several other life threatening possibilities. What he really did not expect to find as he and Draco rounded the corner were two sets of first years eyeing each other across an almost virgin snowfield. There were five in one group and four in the other and their house scarves gave everything away.
[Gryffindor vs Slytherin,] Harry commented silently as he and his soulmate watched the two sets eye each other.
One of the two girls in the Gryffindor group, Harry thought her name was Emily, was holding the side of her face which appeared somewhat red. There was snow all down the front of her cloak.
"You'll pay for that, Bufo," the girl virtually snarled.
"Really, can't wait to find out how," one of the boys from the Slytherin's shot back.
"I'll hex you into next week," the blond boy standing next to the injured party said bravely; he was a Creevey cousin of some description if Harry remembered rightly.
"Just try it," yet another of the boys from the opposing team returned.
[Why do I have a sense of deja vu?] Harry asked as the two sets of pupils glared at each other.
[Did we look that ridiculous?] Draco replied and he felt amused.
It was then that the first years realised they had an audience. The Gryffindors caught sight of the two seventh years first and, as one, their eyes went round and slightly scared. The Slytherins caught on pretty quickly and all nine faces were soon in Harry and Draco's direction. There was awe in every single expression, even the Gryffindors who were used to having the most famous wizard and his soulmate in their house, but were definitely not used to meeting them around the school.
[Any ideas?] Harry asked as total silence fell.
[We could just leave them to it,] his lover suggested hopefully.
[All I have to say is, second year, snow fight, hospital wing,] he replied and gave Draco a look.
"Everything alright here?" Harry asked aloud, since the silence appeared to be going on forever.
"Fine," one of the Slytherins said instantly, only to be elbowed in the ribs by one of his colleagues.
The pair of seventeen year olds walked calmly over to the younger pupils.
"Really," Draco said, "everything's fine is it? I definitely heard the word hex. Harry didn't you hear it as well?"
Harry put on his most thoughtful expression.
"Could have been," he said conversationally, "but you know me, I've been knocked off my broom and landed on my head one too many times to trust my hearing."
Several of the awed expressions were changing to surprise. Draco drifted towards the Slytherin group as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Just snow," one of the Gryffindors tried this time.
The first years were beginning to believe they might get away with whatever they had been up to, Harry could tell.
"That's not snow," Draco said suddenly and pointed at one of the Slytherins and one of the Gryffindors: two rocks fell to the ground at the same time. "Rocks?" The Slytherin prefect said in his most outraged voice. "Really, where is your house honour? You're wizards, you do not throw rocks: it's undignified."
[You did,] Harry pointed out helpfully while maintaining a completely straight face.
[It had no style then and nothing has changed in the meantime,] Draco replied nonchalantly.
"And not very nice," Harry put in for the Gryffindor's benefit.
Draco bent down gracefully and scooped up a handful of snow, patting it gently into a ball. Then he pulled out his wand.
"Snowball fighting is an ancient art," Draco continued pompously at which point he cast a banishing charm and sent the snow straight at Harry's head.
Harry ducked and the snowball continued its arc, hitting one of the Gryffindor boys in the chest; the first year did not seem to know what to do about that.
"Typical Slytherin," Harry responded as if he had not just dodged a snowball. "It's the pureblood; if it can't be done with a wand they haven't got a clue. I recommend just chucking it."
At which point he raised the snow he had picked up when he ducked and sent it sailing straight at Draco. His lover ducked in exactly the same way Harry had and the missile hit one of the Slytherin boys.
"I really wouldn't let him get away with that you know," Draco said calmly to the astounded looking child.
It took the astonished first year approximately five seconds to realise what the seventh year was implying. Then as one all five Slytherins bent down, picked up snow and threw it at the Gryffindors. The reprisal came pretty quickly and before very long there was screaming, laughter and lots of very wet pupils with Harry and Draco in the middle of it all, especially when the first years realised that neither of the seventh years were retaliating very hard for hits scored on them. Harry found himself pelted by Slytherin snowballs and his soulmate was being inundated with Gryffindor missiles.
When Harry backed into Draco they both turned and as one dramatically yelled: "Save me." At which point they were pelted from both sides. The first years appeared to have forgotten their battle in the much more fun game of turning the prefects into snowmen. Harry covered his head and fell to his knees.
"I'm done for," he announced and with a great show of over acting collapsed in a heap.
"Argh, I die," Draco added to the drama in what Harry thought was even worse form than his own.
Draco landed next to his soulmate in the snow and Harry cracked open an eye to see what was going on, at which point the first years, as a group, dumped armfuls of snow onto them.
[Vicious little buggers aren't they,] he commented with a laugh.
[I blame the Gryffindors,] was Draco's dry reply.
By the time revenge had been taken and year rather than house honour had been settled the whole group was very, very wet and they were becoming cold. It was when one of the Slytherins began to look a little blue that the two prefects called a halt to the whole proceedings.
"Pax," Harry yelled at the top of his voice and brought the last twitching of the battle to an end, "no one is coming down with hypothermia on my watch."
There were some noises of disappointment from the first years; they seemed to have been enjoying open season on their elders.
[Maybe someone should write a paper on the bonding effects of throwing things, that's twice it's worked,] Draco offered as they picked each other up off the ground.
[I think it's something along the lines of the enemy of my enemy is my friend,] Harry replied, rapidly looking around to make sure they didn't have any damaged pupils.
"You take your lot back to the tower, and I'll deliver my lot to the dungeon," Draco said cheerfully, "we can meet in the prefect's bathroom."
There was some giggling from the Slytherin first years and the Gryffindors appeared a little bemused by it. Harry was trying desperately to remember if he had ever been that innocent. He had a sneaking suspicion he had.
[Are you sure going to the dungeon without backup is a good idea?] Harry asked silently as he rounded up the Gryffindors.
[Slytherins never attack without a plan,] Draco replied, [I'll be fine. I'm not going to stay.]
However, as they marched their respective groups towards the entrance to the castle their plan was interrupted by a tall figure in black. Snape looked at the whole party with a pensive expression.
"Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, are we auditioning for Snow White?" the head of Slytherin house asked.
Harry kept his mouth shut since although Snape no longer actively attempted to take house points away from Gryffindor if he so much as breathed, their relationship could not exactly be called friendly. Draco on the other hand appeared and felt amused at the Potions master's question.
"No, Sir," he said with a perfectly straight face, "just keeping our hand in at torturing the first years; after all it is one of the perks of being a prefect."
Snape observed them coolly for a few moments and then raised one dark eyebrow.
"Very well, Mr Malfoy," he said evenly without the slightest trace of humour in his expression, "keep up the good work. Just don't let them drip all over the floor."
"We were just taking them back to their common rooms to wring them out," Draco said in a chatty tone.
Snape surveyed the two groups of wet children with a look that caused some of the Gryffindors to shy away. Harry had to admire the man's technique: he knew how to inspire terror.
"I think I shall accompany you, Mr Malfoy," he said evenly, "and witness this 'perk' in action."
Harry would have smiled if it wouldn't have given the game away; Snape really could be useful when he wanted to be. The Slytherin housemaster had just successfully removed any danger to Draco whatsoever and it pleased Harry no end. Harry was not comfortable with Snape; there was far too much in their past to allow that, but for Draco's sake he was willing to at least try.
[See you later,] Harry said cheerfully, [I'll bring our stuff to the bathroom.]
And with that they went their separate ways:Harry to Gryffindor tower and Draco to the Slytherin dungeon. For his own part the semi-frozen wizard was looking forward to the bit where he and Draco had a chance to warm each other up. By now the other prefects had become used to theidea that their bathroom was off limits for up to a couple of hours from time to time.