A/N: woah.
It's been a while, and for that I am sorry! I've been dealing with exams and getting a job, so I've been super busy. Hopefully I can get more chapters up sooner, though.
Thank you for all the comments and votes, guys! Means a lot, I love reading them!
Okay yes Sirius X Remus is real in this but can someone explain to me why their ship name is Wolfstar because I'm confused thanks
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
******
Draco's breath came out as a cloud of mist, his boots crunching on the snow as he walked down the isolated path to Hogsmeade.
Christmas was approaching at an alarming speed, as were the holidays. He had two more days at Hogwarts before he was returning to Grimmauld Place for a few weeks.
Draco had finished all the classes he needed to go to for today, and had spare time for a few hours. With slight dread filling him, he had decided it was about time he did his Christmas shopping.
Harry had done his a while ago, but Draco had refrained from it until the last minute because the whole situation just stressed him out. His pocket full of golden coins that jingled with every step wasn't a merry sound to his ears, it was almost a haunting one. Some might have said he was overreacting, but Draco had always been horrible at picking Christmas gifts for people.
He hadn't needed to up until a few years ago, and was still very clueless.
Walking through the busy street and looking into shop windows didn't help at all. He couldn't see anything that Harry would like, and with all these people bustling around he felt rather stupid.
Jewellery? No, Harry didn't wear any.
Quidditch supplies? No, Draco got him some for his birthday this year.
Clothes? A bit boring.
Books, perhaps? Draco sighed, but opened the door to the biggest bookstore in town. The walls were lined with bookshelves, stacks of books littering tables haphazardly. The store was warm, the smell of parchment comforting. Candles lit the large room, something Draco questioned the practicality of, as this place was most definitely a fire hazard.
He began to look at the shelves, eyes scanning the large tomes. There were spellbooks, editions of their school books, biographies of famous wizards, stories Draco remembered from his childhood and... muggle books?
Draco frowned, never remembering seeing any muggle books in this store before. The words on them seemed completely foreign; who on earth was Cinderella? Imagining a girl covered in black soot and cinders called Ella, he wondered why muggles found that entertaining. Draco found himself proved wrong as he opened the book, seeing it was a muggle fairytale about a girl in a blue dress with blond hair. He set it back down, looking at the other books.
There were a lot of them, mostly fiction, and Draco began to marvel at how insane muggle's imaginations were. A girl who fell asleep for a while, a princess who was taken in by seven little people. Tales of girls who kissed frogs to turn them into princes, and even one about a peasant girl who married a beast, who was actually a prince.
Did the muggles have an obsession with princes and princesses or something? There were many other books, strange ones about talking animals and even some about creatures that muggles thought were fictional, like unicorns and dragons.
Would Harry like any of these? He grew up with muggles, surely he'd know who Cinderella was. Shrugging, he grabbed a large book of fairytales. If Harry didn't like it, then at least he'd have some fun reading them.
He put the book in his shoulder-bag after buying it, finding it to be rather heavy as he left the store. He paused for a second, wondering who else he should buy gifts for.
Remus, definitely. He'd probably buy the werewolf some chocolate. Sirius, he supposed, should get a gift, as he was housing Draco. Draco reckoned he should get something for Hermione too, as she'd been complaining about her quill breaking in the various classes they shared, and she'd been rather nice to him lately.
With all this in mind, he set off towards Honeydukes.
He bought two of the largest bars of chocolate Honeydukes sold, the gargantuan candy almost not fitting in his bag, one for Remus and one for Sirius. He found a nice quill for Hermione, a small peacock feather.
Feeling rather accomplished, he began to walk through the town back to the school. Something in the window of a shop caught his eye, and he had to backtrack a few steps.
In the window of a rather expensive jewellery store was a silver necklace, the pendant being a silver snitch. He bit his lip, knowing that he said he wouldn't buy jewellery for Harry seeing as he never wore it, but he couldn't quite resist.
He walked into the shop, asking the bored looking man at the desk for the necklace in the window. He bought it over and set it down, filing out a price. Draco handed over several Galleons and went to pick it up, but nearly gasped in shock as he felt the metal burn his fingers. Silver, he'd read somewhere that werewolves couldn't touch silver.
The man was giving him a rather odd look. "Can I get it wrapped?" Draco asked politely. The man gave him an annoyed sort of glare, but wrapped the necklace up anyways.
When Draco got outside he surveyed the injuries. Three of his fingers were blistered and burnt, stinging like hell. The snowflakes falling onto his hand helped, but not to a great deal.
******
Draco walked into the Great Hall, the present for Hermione in his bag. He'd give Harry his on Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place. After a long night of painful spells, he want in the mood to be glared at by the people of his house, so deciding that he didn't care anymore he sat down beside his mate at the Gryffindor table.
Harry stared at him for a few seconds, watching as the werewolf nonchalantly grabbed a piece of toast, taking a bite out of it. "What're you doing here?"
"Am I not welcome?" Draco asked tiredly, ignoring the people from the Gryffindor house who were staring at him incredulously. "There's no rule that says I can't be here."
Harry shook his head with a grin. "Fair enough."
"Plus," he said, pulling the small box from his bag containing the quill for Hermione. "I wanted to give this to you," he handed it to the girl, who was sitting opposite them and eating quietly while reading a book that was open in her lap. "Merry Christmas."
"O-Oh," she stuttered, blushing but looking happy. "Thanks. I didn't get you anything, sorry-"
"It's fine," Draco mumbled, picking at the food on his plate. "Saw it and thought of you."
"Where's my gift?" Harry snapped playfully, elbowing Draco in the side.
"You can have yours on Christmas."
"Meanie."
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled. Hermione opened the box, and practically glowed with happiness, seeing the peacock feathered quill.
"Heard you needed a new one," Draco explained, Hermione grinning.
******
Draco sat on the floor of the Room Of Requirement, fighting down the bile in his throat, throat burning and his whole body nearly convulsing, the need to throw up unbearable. Yet he refused to, keeping his mouth firmly closed.
By now he was beyond angry at this object standing in front of him. Every day it threatened to permanently damage his magic more than it already had, physically and mentally injuring him further and further with every spell he cast on it. His pain was slowly melting away to rage.
At this point he simply wanted to beat the cabinet into a pile of wooden splinters and boards on the floor, he wanted it to be over. He couldn't do that, as much as he wanted to though, because if he did he'd have bigger problems on his hands.
He stayed awake most nights now, Harry in his arms, resisting the powerful urge to sleep, not wanting to face his own corpse. The threats of killing the boy he loved were too much to handle, he either didn't sleep or broke himself down by casting spells on the cabinet. Either way, it was viciously damaging.
Draco let himself fall backwards gently, staring up at the ceiling. The holidays were tomorrow, they were leaving at midday. What would he do for the weeks he was gone? Would anything happen, would the dreams get worse?
Hopefully not.
******
The Hogwarts Express pulled to a screeching halt in Kings Cross Station. Draco and Harry heaved their trunks off the train, stepping onto the platform which was filled with witches and wizards, all hugging family members and conversing happily, some saying goodbye to their peers for the holidays.
Harry hugged Hermione goodbye, Draco nearly falling over in shock as Hermione wrapped her arms around him as well. He returned the hug gratefully, happy that she had now accepted him. She dashed off, talking excitedly with two muggles that Draco could only assume were her parents. He felt bad for insulting her for all those years, the man and woman hugging their daughter seemed like very civilised people, the sight of the happy family of three making Draco and Harry both jealous. Nevertheless, they felt happy for her.
They caught sight of Remus fairly quickly, a hulking black dog at his heels. Sirius bounded playfully towards the two.
"What're you doing here?" Harry hissed, yet he couldn't deny he was happy to see his godfather, even if he was currently in the shape and form of a midnight coloured mutt. Remus was quick to pull Draco into a hug, the two werewolves ecstatic to see each other again.
"You don't look well," Remus said worriedly after a few moments, examining Draco's pale and sunken face, the dark circles under his eyes and the odd, dull look to his once stunning grey eyes.
"I feel fine," Draco lied, hoping that Remus wouldn't be able to pick up on his blatant deceit. Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him, but he didn't press the matter further, greeting Harry with a hug. The four made their way back out of King's Cross Station, reaching the car that Remus had hired to get here. Harry and Draco heaved their trunks into the boot before collapsing in the back, seeing Sirius and Remus sitting in the front.
"You're making this so dangerous," Remus snapped, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the proclaimed criminal sitting casually in the front seat of a rented car, looking rather happy with himself. "I told you that you shouldn't have come."
"Well you wouldn't have left me alone, so I had to," Sirius snapped in mock anger, a childish look of glee on his face as he looked out the window. Harry couldn't help but smile at his godfather, he knew it was a real treat for Sirius to be outside again after spending so long cooped up in a creepy, old house.
The ride back home was relatively normal, Draco and Harry grinning at Remus and Sirius who were bickering like an old couple.
It was dark when they finally reached the hidden building of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius had fallen asleep against the window, snoring quietly. Draco was dozing, but snapped out of it as Harry shook his shoulder gently. The two grabbed their trunks, and yawning sleepily, walked into the large mansion, leaving Remus to follow with a deeply asleep Sirius in his arms.
For the tired and weakened state he was in, hauling his trunk up the stairs was no easy feat for Draco, but it came as an indescribable relief when he finally reached his bedroom, opening the door and turning on the light, smiling at the familiar sight of the room.
Everything was exactly how he'd left it, fire beginning to spring up in the fireplace at a wave of his hand. A sharp pain shot through his head but he ignored it.
He spent ten minutes unpacking his trunk and pulling on pyjamas before he collapsed into his bed, eyes already drooping with tiredness.
He didn't want to sleep though; he almost felt like creeping down to the kitchen and making himself five coffees just so he'd stay awake and not have to face horrific nightmares. Somehow, he thought that the nightmares getting worse over the holidays was a likely thing to happen. After all, he couldn't work on the cabinet for a few weeks now.
Even so, he was exhausted. He was getting more and more tired, body becoming unable to handle the strain of magic that was painful to cast and a lack of sleep, nearly overdosing on dreamless sleep potions that had no effect.
Falling into his bed that evening was inevitable, though. He tried to stay awake for as long as possible, but his eyelids felt like they weighed tonnes, brain slowly shutting down and forcing him to succumb to darkness and cold unconsciousness.
***
The Ministry Of Magic was dark and cold.
By now, Draco hated the place and never wanted to see it again. The walls were ornate and grand, but to the werewolf they were repulsive. The tiles were black and felt like ice under his bare feet, the chilling feeling spreading through his whole body and making him shiver slightly. His breath came out as a cold mist, and he couldn't, as usual, see or sense any other sign of life.
The golden fountain stood before him, towering above in an almost taunting manner. The witch and the wizard looked warped, evil, the water pouring from their wands hitting the bottom of the fountain with a quiet splash. The house elf looked strangely twisted, looking more like a goblin from Gringotts. The centaur looked like the sort of beast you'd see while walking through the gates of hell, a vicious, cruel expression across his handsome face.
Lounging on the centaur's back was a figure, strangely distorted, almost as if he was blurred around the edges like some sort of ghost. He didn't look like he was all there, in a sense, and Draco didn't think it unlikely if suddenly he just disappeared into the background, in fact, he was hoping that is would happen.
The boy's hair was white, stained a dark, coagulated and murky red at the back of his head. His eyes were a dark grey, skin paler than snow, pasty, weathered looking and sunken in. His clothes hung off his body, as if he hadn't eaten in years.
He turned his head, seeing Draco, his movements jerky and forced, almost as if someone was pulling strings hooked beneath his skin. He looked puppet-like. Draco felt like he was looking in some sort of enchanted mirror, his own corpse staring back at him.
"We seem to be quite a predicament," the fake version of himself said, voice scratchy. "Or, well, you seem to be, anyways."
"It's not my fault," Draco snapped angrily. "It's the holidays, I can't be at Hogwarts to work on it right now."
"Hmph," his counterpart huffed, folding his arms across his chest and sitting up. "Will you be able to have it done by the end of the school year?"
"I might have had it done already if you stopped corrupting me!" Draco hissed, knowing that his magical abilities were dwindling.
"Now, now, I don't like your attitude very much," his evil doppelgänger said with a sickening, twisted grin. Draco's lip curled in anger. "Come here."
Draco stood fast, refusing to move an inch. He somehow he felt himself being pulled towards the evil entity, who was grinning madly at Draco's apparent struggle. Draco tried to root himself to the spot, not daring to move a muscle, staying as still as a statue and trying to fight off the force. Yet it was too great, his legs beginning to tremble as he quickly became exhausted from struggling against the magical pull. Finally he was forced to give up, legs involuntarily carrying him towards the other boy.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The evil Draco cackled, no real mirth in his dark laugh. Draco narrowed his eyes hatefully, even more angered that he'd now been beaten. The ghost like figure sized him up for a few seconds, before, in the span of a split second, he raised his fist and punched Draco in the face.
The werewolf flew backwards, unprepared for the attack, and stunned by the force of it. He fell onto the cold tiles, feeling blood flow down his face.
***
Draco awoke with a choked gasp, blood quickly filling his mouth, almost making him choke. Pain fogged his mind, but he quickly became nauseous, running to the bathroom. He spat blood into the sink, but it never seemed to cease or slow in its flow. His nose was very clearly broken, but a quick spell fixed that.
After holding wads of paper towel to his nose for half an hour, the bleeding seemed to stop. He washed his face and chest quickly, walking back to his bedroom.
His fears had been confirmed then. The thing, the person in his dreams, could hurt him. He had to be behind Draco's lack of ability when it came to magic, the bruises that had been mysteriously appearing, and now Draco coughing up blood. There was no other explanation, was there?
******
Draco got out of bed the next morning, after lying awake for the rest of the night. Stumbling down the stairs was a feat in itself, and he merely fell into a chair at the dinner table. The thought of food right now made him want to vomit, but he knew he had to eat something. He was losing weight rapidly now.
He put his head on the table and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the world as it spun at a sickening pace.
"I'm tempted to take you to St Mungos, this is getting worse and worse Draco," Remus walked in, seeing the werewolf at the table.
"'M fine," Draco mumbled thickly in reply, opening his eyes blearily to watch the other wolf.
"You're such a bad liar," Remus said, sitting down opposite Draco. Draco's grey eyes met Remus' amber ones, the two trying to stare each other down with narrowed eyes to see who'd cave in first.
They were interrupted as Harry waltzed in, looking tired. He sat down and plonked his head on Draco's shoulder, shutting his eyes again. Everyone stared at him for a few moments before he spoke. "I had a weird dream last night."
"Fair enough," Draco replied. At least Harry hadn't been punched in the face by a demonic version of himself only to find that his nose was actually broken when he awoke.
"It's Christmas this weekend!" Sirius hollered as he walked in, making the three jump. They all directed pointed glares towards the man, who shrugged them off. "And we've all been invited to the Weasley's house for dinner on Christmas."
Harry groaned and put his head on the table. Remus sighed tiredly. Sirius left the room to shut up the portrait of the woman who was shrieking madly, and Draco frowned. He was invited, too? Really? He didn't think he'd ever set foot in the Weasley's house, let alone be invited for Christmas dinner.
Despite the fact that he was coughing up blood, unable to cast spells, being tormented every night by a demonic entity and being forced to fix a vanishing cabinet, at least things in his social life were taking a turn for the better.
******
"I still don't get why we have to drive the whole way," Harry mumbled. They'd been sitting in Remus' car for the past hour, driving on their way to the Weasley's house for Christmas dinner.
"Because," Sirius replied, who'd been glued to the window for the entire journey. "I haven't left the house in god knows how long for a trip like this, and I'd like to see the world around me."
Draco, like Sirius, was looking out the window, but his eyes were unfocused.
Harry huffed, shifting and fidgeting. He didn't like to be cooped up in small spaces, especially in cars. They were small, uncomfortable, and he didn't like the way the entire thing bumped whenever a stone hit a wheel. It was uncanny and more than a little disconcerting.
Remus tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to avoid getting restless himself. Apart from Sirius begging to be able to look out the window like an overly large five year old, Remus doubted that Draco would be strong enough to handle any sort of portkey or apparation very well.
He wasn't brave enough to voice his concerns very much, even though he was extremely worried after talking to Harry. Draco had become somewhat... detached. Remus couldn't think of any other word for it. He was failing most of his classes, and spending more time sleeping than anything else. Yet while sleeping, he seemed to have nightmares, which always ended in coughing fits or blood noses.
This had all begun after the fight at the Ministry. While they were there, Draco was fine, and then when they'd found him unconscious with a crack in his skull, he'd gone comatose. When he woke up, he was like this. Something had happened at the Ministry, Remus was sure of it.
Whenever he told Draco that he was worried, the younger werewolf got extremely defensive and moody. He'd deny everything, and sometimes even got angry about it. Harry didn't know anything either, although, the vampire could find out easily if he wanted to. A simple order, and being Draco's mate meant that the werewolf wouldn't be able to say no. Remus didn't dare ask though, he didn't want Harry to think he could abuse his position so easily.
It wasn't long before the Weasley's house came into view. Draco, who had been fighting down anxiety for the better part of the journey, could only stare incredulously.
His old home, the Malfoy Manor, had been huge. Draco still didn't know how many bathrooms they had in the house, but there were a lot of them. The manor was ornate and expensively decorated, with a large gardens, horse stables, and even a maze.
This house was the furthest thing from it.
It looked like an old farmhouse that someone had added three or four rickety stories to, beams holding up the huge house which was tilting slightly to the left. It was a wonder that it hadn't fallen over yet. Smoke puffed out of three different chimneys on the roof, a large garden off to one side that was filled with large bushes and pumpkins. Draco could swear that he saw something that looked like a particularly small and ugly house elf run through the area towards what appeared to be a mini Quidditch pitch.
Draco caught Harry's gaze for a few moments, who was smiling at his stunned reaction. Draco had never quite seen anything like this house before.
The Malfoy Manor was cold, unfriendly looking and was too large. He remembered getting lost in it so many times as a young child. In that house, the walls had ears and he felt like he was being watched no matter what he did, the ghosts of his father's presence still lurking the halls even when the man was away. This house seemed to radiate homeliness though, warmth, and it looked cosy.
The four got out of the car, Draco happy to be able to stretch his legs after the long journey. Sirius looked like he was about to faint, looking around eagerly at the new place. Harry merely fixed a glare on the sun, who was shining down unrelentingly on them in the evening heat.
They were quickly welcomed inside, Draco still looking around, amazed. He was extremely shocked, and nearly yelped when he was pulled into a bone crushing hug by someone. With the head of long, fiery red hair, he quickly realised it was Molly Weasley, and didn't know whether to be humbled or alarmed.
"You've grown!" The woman squealed. "You've gotten a lot skinner though, not to worry dear, there's plenty of food to go around this evening!" Draco grinned, feeling rather overwhelmed as Molly smiled at him before going to fuss over Harry. He caught sight of Hermione, who was leaning against the doorframe, smiling at his shocked reaction.
They were all welcomed inside rather quickly. The kitchen was surprisingly large, yet rather cluttered with random magical objects. Arthur Weasley was sitting at the table, drinking a coffee and looking rather tired after a long day's work. Charlie Weasley was talking enthusiastically about dragons with Newt Scamander, Credence looking slightly nervous, but tired.
"Now, why don't you and Harry head upstairs with Ron, Hermione and Ginny? The twins are working late, but they'll be here for dinner," Molly said with a smile. Harry began walking up the stairs, Draco following.
When everyone else was out of sight, Harry grabbed Draco's hand for a few seconds, giving him a comforting smile.
They reached the room that Hermione had led them to, which was a large living room on the top floor. There were a few large couches, a huge window, and a crackling fire. Ron and Ginny were engrossed in a game of wizard's chess, Ron obviously winning. Ron looked up, looking rather stunned to see a Malfoy in his house, and Ginny's eyes quickly found Harry.
"Oh, wait here!" Hermione said abruptly, dashing from the room. The four stared after her for a few seconds before the two redheads returned to their game of chess, Harry spectating, Draco moving to the window. All he could see was cornfields in the evening light, large trees bordering the property.
Hermione returned, a large, leather bound book in her hands. She walked up to Draco, holding it. "Merry Christmas. You got me something, and I didn't, so when I found out that I was coming for dinner, I went to the bookstore and got this."
Draco smiled, taking the book. It was a huge thing, very heavy. "'The Complete Collection of the Works of William Shakespeare'," Draco read, frowning. He recalled the name from somewhere...
"He was a muggle who wrote plays in the 1600s," Hermione explained.
"How come I didn't get a present?" Ron asked indignantly, frowning.
"Oh, well I wonder why," Hermione drawled sarcastically, narrowing her eyes as she and Draco sat on the couch, the book loving girl launching into an explanation of Hamlet, Draco listening intently.
"So... Lavender Brown, then?" Harry asked, Ginny snorting and Ron groaning loudly. "What, so you don't like her?"
"No, I do, I mean-"
"Well I'd sure hope you do, your faces are locked together most of the time," Fred announced loudly, George following him in and pretending to over-dramatically make out with himself.
Ron rolled his eyes. "That's exactly the point! We never talk, we just-"
Ron was interrupted as George made some loud and rather disturbing kissing and slurping noises. Ginny gagged, Harry laughed, and even Hermione cracked a smile.
"Hey kiddo," Fred said happily, leaning over one of Draco's shoulders and ruffling his white hair.
"Wolf kiddo," George appeared over his other shoulder, Draco frowning indignantly at them.
"You're not that much older than I am-"
"Don't question us," the twins said in unison. They'd become rather fond of Draco since he'd given them the money to start the joke shop.
Draco shrugged. "Fair enough."
******
"Molly! Thank you, blue is really my colour," Newt said happily, examining a royal blue knitted jumper with his initials on the front in gold. Molly smiled at the praise.
"You've been busy this year, Molly," Remus said, pulling his own navy blue jumper over his head. Sirius was grinning at his own fiery red one, Credence smiling at the teal one he held.
Fred and George had matching ones with an F embroidered on one, and a G on the other. They'd been swapping jumpers and seats all evening when people weren't looking, something that was driving their mother insane. Ron was looking with contempt at his own maroon one, Hermione smiling at the purple one she'd received.
Draco was surprised to found that Molly had made him one too, something that made him indescribably happy. It was like finding a whole new family.
His and Harry's were the same shade of green, both of the boys putting them on.
"Well, aren't you two adorable?" Molly said. Harry simply smiled in reply, Draco blushing furiously. "Green suits the both of you so well, really goes with your eyes Harry-"
She was cut off as loud knocking was heard from the front door. Molly frowned. "Now, who could that be at this hour?"
"Is it anyone from the order?" Remus was quick to ask as Arthur got to his feet.
"I don't think so, I didn't invite anyone else."
Sirius turned into his dog form, hiding under the table next to Remus. They didn't particularly want this night to end in an arrest.
"Minister!" Arthur said, clearly surprised. "A-And Percy..."
Molly froze up, looking over to see her son who'd previously abandoned them. Fred and George lost their fun demeanour, both fixing matching death glares on their brother.
"Please, come in," Arthur said, after looking over to make sure Sirius wasn't visible. The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour stepped into the house with a thin lipped smile, Percy following. The Weasley boy was almost completely robot like, he didn't regard his family with any sort of recognition.
"Thank you, Mr Weasley," Scrimgeour said, Draco frowning deeply at him. "Percy wanted to drop by to say merry Christmas, and said that I should come along to meet you all."
"Oh, he did, did he?" Fred, who was wearing George's jumper, glared at the redhead in question.
Scrimgeour smiled nervously. "This is quite a lovely place, Mrs Weasley," he said, looking around the kitchen. "Is anyone up for showing me around the place? There's quite a nice garden outside."
No one moved. Newt was sizing the man up, Credence holding his hand under the table for comfort. Remus discreetly cast his gaze down to Sirius, who was suppressing growls. Arthur and Molly both looked rather mortified, Fred and George looking like they'd very much like to take both Scrimgeour and Percy for a walk so that they could murder them by the broomshed. Hermione was frowning at the Minster, Ginny and Ron glaring daggers at their older brother. Draco's glare was the most fierce, however, not liking at all how Scrimgeour's eyes were firmly fixed on his mate.
"How about you?"
Draco was about to object, but Harry stood up, an almost sickly sweet smile on his face. "Of course."
Everyone stared worriedly after Harry, Percy sitting down awkwardly at the table.
"The weather's nice tonight," Scrimgeour said somewhat nervously as the two stepped into the garden.
"Indeed," Harry replied, hiding a grin. The vampire was no idiot. Percy most definitely hadn't wanted to come and see his family, and why on earth would he have brought the Minister along? Oh, this was going to be fun.
Scrimgeour frowned. Something about this boy was just... indescribably... wrong. The way he talked was far different, with a sort of faraway tone, yet he spoke with a very posh and proper tone. The way he walked, held himself with dignity, almost like he was a self entitled prince. His skin was chillingly pale in the moonlight, eyes an unnatural shade of green that Scrimgeour hadn't seen before. Yet his eyes were somewhat... glassed over, like the couldn't focus. He always seemed to be looking through you, rather than at you. He was extremely mysterious, seeming to hide many secrets, secrets that Scrimgeour was desperate to find out.
"I've wanted to meet you for a very long time, did you know that?"
Harry smiled slightly at this statement, long canines glinting in the moonlight. "No, I don't suppose I did."
"Oh, yes, indeed. Dumbledore has been very protective of you, of course. Only natural, I suppose, after what happened at the Ministry. There have been many rumours, you know, about you being the 'Chosen One', I assume Dumbledore has talked with you about this?"
Harry's grin deepened, the shadows of a nearby tree hiding his malicious expression. Well, he was right. For a moment he debated whether to lie or not. Which would be the most entertaining?
"Why yes, I think he's mentioned it once or twice."
"And what has he told you, Harry?"
"Hmm, can't quite remember," Harry replied, drumming his black fingernails on the cobblestone wall in front of them.
"Ah," the minister paused awkwardly, not knowing what to say. "Well, in any case, it doesn't really matter if you are the Chosen One or not."
Harry hummed. "And why would that be, Minister?"
"It's what the community believes that's important, isn't it? People believe you are the Chosen One, a hero - which you are, in any case! How many times have you faced He Who Must Not Be Named now?"
The question was clearly rhetorical, but Harry cut him off. "Once when I was one, then there was the Philosophers stone business, then that underground chamber in the school. Didn't see him third year though, that was a quiet year!" Harry said, pretending to be thoughtful. "Saw him resurrected in my fourth year, and tried to blow him to pieces last year. Didn't succeed, sadly," he sighed.
"Indeed," the Minister replied, looking rather disturbed. "In any case, you are a symbol of hope for many. I can't help but feel that, as this is the case, that you should stand by the Ministry."
"Stand by the Ministry?" Harry questioned, voice quiet and dangerously low. "Pray tell, what exactly are you implying?"
Again, Scrimgeour was shocked about the way he spoke. "Well, nothing too onerous, I assure you," he tried to put in a posh sounding word of his own. "If people were to see you coming into the ministry from time to time, well, I suppose it would give people some... comfort."
"So you'd like to give people the impression that I'm working for the ministry, yes?" Harry asked, hair falling over his eyes. "And that would give the impression that I approve of the Ministry, correct?"
"Well, yes-"
"No, I'm afraid that won't work," Harry said with a small smile, voice holding a dark tone as he caught Scrimgeour's gaze. "You see, I don't quite approve of the Ministry in general. Last year I was made out to be completely insane by them."
Scrimgeour grimaced. Honestly, it was no wonder. Harry did look a bit... well, crazy. "I wasn't the Minister then-"
"Yet you were still working there, correct? I saw you while I was being put on trial. You said naught in my defence, even though you were in a position of power. And now you're asking me to act like I'm working with the Ministry?"
"Yes, well, that was different. Some would say it's your duty to work with the Ministry, Harry-"
"I don't like being used very much, Minister," Harry replied easily. "It's always the same with you Ministry folk, isn't it? Either Fudge is prancing around pretending everything's fine and dandy," Harry danced his fingers along the stone wall. "Or there's you, trying to fool everyone into thinking the Chosen One is working for you."
"So you're not the Chosen One then?"
"I thought it didn't matter to you either way?"
"I shouldn't have said that, it was tactless-"
"No, no. In fact, it's one of the most truthful things you've said to me this evening. You don't particularly care whether I live or die, only that you can convince everyone that we're winning the war against Voldemort."
Scrimgeour flinched, wondering how on earth this boy could be so bold as to say his name. There was silence for a while.
"What is Dumbledore up to, then? Where does he go, when he's away from Hogwarts?"
"I wouldn't have the faintest idea."
"And you wouldn't tell me if you did know, would you?"
"Nope," Harry said happily. His tone changed quickly t something darker. "I wouldn't mess with matters at Hogwarts, Minister. The last minister tried to do that, and you might have noticed that he's not minister anymore, but Dumbledore is still headmaster. I'd keep out of business that isn't yours."
"Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?"
Harry grinned. "Well, no, not really. I like to think I am my own, with my own mind, my own thoughts, and my own... plans."
******
Draco tossed and turned in his sleep, whimpering quietly under his breath. A look of pain was written across his face.
He awoke with a start, sitting up. He clutched his hair, eyes wide with terror, and screamed.
The lamp he'd left on exploded, drenching the room in darkness. All the windows of Grimmauld Place simultaneously shattered, the cold storm outside billowing the curtains. The ground beneath the house shook, things falling off shelves and clattering to the floor.
Remus was awoken abruptly, sitting up as his window shattered. "Reparo," he said quickly, repairing the glass. He hurried to Sirius' room, who, surprisingly hadn't woken up. He traversed through the large house, fixing the windows as he went. There had clearly been an earthquake, judging by the amount of objects that had fallen from the shelves to the floor.
He pushed open Draco's door to check if the werewolf was okay, but froze in his tracks. Draco was sitting on his bed, hyperventilating, sobbing. He looked up as the light from the corridor illuminated his room, eyes red, face tear stained.
"Draco, what happened?" Remus sat beside him, the younger werewolf crying into his shoulder.
"I-I had a nightmare, and I screamed, then the lamp and windows exploded," Draco choked. "And my head is killing me, it feels like someone's stabbing me."
Remus frowned, rubbing Draco's back. "I'm guessing your magic just overloaded, it'll be fine."
"Is everything okay?" A bedraggled, sleepy looking Harry Potter stumbled into the room. "Oh, god, what happened?" He rushed over.
"Nightmare," Remus replied. "You stay here with him, Harry. I'll go and fix everything else that's broken."
"Alright," Harry nodded. "Goodnight, Remus."
Draco fell back onto his pillow, on his side so that he wasn't facing Harry. Harry lay down beside him, wrapping his arms around the werewolf, kissing his shoulder. "Tell me what happened."
"B-Bad dream," Draco breathed, tears staining his pillow. Bad? That dream... it'd been terrifying. It was short, simply Harry, falling from the top tower of Hogwarts and hitting the ground, body broken. It was horrifying to Draco, feeling powerless in that situation.
Harry leaned on his elbow, stroking Draco's hair away from his face gently. The werewolf didn't stop crying, sobs becoming more silent. Harry spotted a book, sitting at the end of the bed. He sat up, picking it up, seeing it was a book of muggle fairytales.
Draco noticed. "Merry Christmas," he whispered. "Thought you'd like it."
"I haven't read any of these since I was seven or eight," Harry grinned, flipping through the book. Memories sprung forth, of reading them in his first few years at muggle school. "Do you want me to read you some of them?"
Draco gave a small nod, cuddling into Harry's chest and burying his face into his neck.
"Once upon a time..."