Author's Notes: For the slythindor100 advent challenge. Eighth year and pre-slash.
Harry had never thought he'd actually long for those restless days spent sitting alone under a tree with nothing to break the monotony but the sounds of Ron's pointed sighs coming from inside the tent.
But Hogwarts, for all that he'd always loved the place, was starting to grow rather stifling by comparison.
There were less students roaming the halls than ever (and maybe that was part of the problem – the constant reminder of just why so many were missing), but those who had returned seemed ten times more likely than ever to stare openly at him in the corridors, or even to follow him around everywhere he went despite him making it clear he wanted to be alone, so their presence weighed just as heavily around him as if there'd been hundreds more of them. They pointed and speculated about his part in the war with whispers that weren't quite hushed enough, and he hated the attention more than ever.
Winter, when it finally came, was his saving grace.
Once the cold snap hit, Harry made it a point to duck outside the castle doors at every opportunity, for none of his 'fans' seemed desperate enough to follow him out into knee-deep snow. Harry could see why. A thick cloak and a few Warming Charms were barely enough to counter the weather.
A person would have to have a pretty good reason to brave this kind of biting cold.
Considering that, Harry wasn't surprised, somehow, to find Draco Malfoy sitting out alone in the snow as well. Maybe people didn't stare at him quite as much as Harry (though a lot of eyes did still obviously linger over the left sleeve of his school robe), but Malfoy still clearly had as much reason as Harry to go to great lengths to pursue some solitude.
When he heard the crunch of snow under Harry's feet, Malfoy glanced up, his body automatically tensed as if preparing to scarper. It disturbed Harry to see how the war had fostered the instinct to run and hide in a boy who had once been so certain of himself; so ready for confrontation that he actively sought it out, especially when it came to Harry.
When he saw it was Harry standing over him, Malfoy actually relaxed, as if he realised there was no threat. If that wasn't strange enough, Malfoy didn't even glare at him as if gearing up for their usual spiteful yelling match (though Harry wondered whether it could still be called 'usual' when the two of them hadn't so much as exchanged a single word at all since returning to Hogwarts for their final year).
Instead, Malfoy just stared at him for a while, though not in a way that bore any resemblance to how the other students gawked. Malfoy didn't have to idly wonder about the war, after all. He'd lived through it in a way that most of the returned students thankfully hadn't been forced to. Hogwarts hadn't remained the safe haven it once had been under the Death Eater's rule, sure, but it was still a kind of shelter from the worst of it. They hadn't lived with Voldemort under their roof (inside their head), forcing them to torture innocent people (forcing them to watch), having to make life or death decisions under the worst kinds of pressure.
Malfoy watched him as if he actually understood at least part of what he'd been through, similar to the looks he received from Ron and Hermione on his worse days.
Harry could have chosen to walk away, then, and had any other patch of the Hogwarts grounds entirely to himself. That was what he'd initially come outside for, right?
Instead, Harry sat down in the snow just feet away from Malfoy and stared right back at him. He didn't look pointedly down at Malfoy's hidden Dark Mark, or even gaze repentantly in the direction of the long scar that must surely adorn Malfoy's chest. Harry just took in the sight of him as a whole, much as Malfoy himself was doing to Harry in return. Neither of them interrupted the silence.
Harry decided that it was bizarre, but strangely nice (almost comfortable, really), to be sharing a few minutes of camaraderie with Draco Malfoy, of all people. Even though he'd been hoping to be alone, this was actually better.
Harry even had a brief and definitely insane urge to shuffle over a bit, closing the gap between them, and lean into Malfoy to share warmth. Weird. They weren't friends after all, however much he might feel some kind of connection between them right now.
Clearly it was just the cold getting to him. He should refresh his spells.
It didn't occur to him to take it as a sign that it was time to stand and go back inside. That was the last thing he wanted, and for once that wasn't just because he didn't feel any great desire to return to being stared at for hours on end until he could finally retreat and bury himself up in his dorm room for the night. It was, at least in part, something to do with wanting to stay here instead of just wanting to stay away.
Whatever this was, sitting in the cold sharing something wordless with his former nemesis, it felt good enough that Harry was determined to continue it.
He thought he might go looking for Malfoy the next day as well, just to see what might come of it.
~FIN~