Chapter 1

Snow had finally settled upon the roof of Hogwarts. First Years were building snowmen. Mums were sending in new winter clothing for the, few, lucky students. Christmas season was soon approaching and Harry was feeling the festiveness.

He was excited. Which was a new feeling considering his previous Christmases had been full of either disaster or loneliness. This year he would be with the Weasley's at The Burrow, hopefully without the threat of war.

Which seemed to be an impossible thing to avoid as every year went on.

This Year... had been strange to say the least. So much had happened last year. Some, harder to talk about than others. This Year however, it was almost peaceful. Considering. He was getting along with everyone just fine, even though there (in the past) had always been a slight conflict. Draco Malfoy. Normally that boy wouldn't shut up, but now, you would almost wish to hear his voice… Almost. Snape had changed "profession". Now teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts rather than Potions. Although Harry saw Snape as nothing more than a greasy snake, even he had to admit, he was good at teaching.

Slughorn, the new Potions Professor, was kind. Easy to talk to, especially when it came the information Harry needed about Voldemort. But when it came to teaching. So far? Bloody useless. A failing grade was nearly impossible to get with Hermione as a best friend, but even she would barely pass when it came to practical.

Everything seemed peaceful and undoubtedly strange.

3 more weeks of classes and he'll finally be at The Burrow. Stomach filled with Molly's amazing cooking. The twins get to tell him about their latest merchandise. Late night quidditch. Maybe this year Charlie will stop by with stories about his dragons, but that was unlikely. He was simply ecstatic about being able to go home. Away from all that is strange.

For now however, his only worry until then. Classes. Of course the treat of Voldemort, but after the latest attack of Death Eaters Harry suspected, as well as Dumbledore, the next attack would be for a while. His only responsibility for now was to gain information and report back. Nothing more nothing less. Nothing without his permission.

In fact, Dumbledore wants Harry to relax. Another strange thing to add to this Year. He remembered the conversation clearly.

"You've done your job for now. I'm working on our next move but until the Death Eaters make themselves more present it's hard to tell. You haven't been experiencing more visions have you?"

"No, Sir."

"Then I ask for you to concentrate on your studies. Perhaps take the weight of this war off of your shoulders for a while. There may be a constant threat, and you must be always aware of it, but forgive me to ask when was the last time you acted like a regular teenager?"

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"Quidditch, dating, "hanging out" as I've heard students call it."

"Not since…"

"Exactly Harry. Take time for now, relax."

Harry, along with his roommates were preparing to go to bed. He knew he should relax but with all this strangeness going on he just couldn't. Something felt… Odd. How could you go through a Year of pain and loss, to one of peace and friendliness? The world was not that forgiving. Until he was home, this strangeness would not allow him to feel calm, hence why the desperation to be out of Hogwarts.

He figured if he was going to solve the mystery he would have to start small. He had already spoken to Slughorn (that talk only teaching Harry about Voldemort's past rather than future plans). So, what was the next best option?

Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy. The most narcissistic, cowardly boy Harry could think of. One with a large mouth at that! It was more than weird for a boy like that to go practically silent. Even to his own goons, now spending more time alone rather than with his "posey".Knowing who his parents served, could he be a part of a plot? Could he, himself, be a Death Eater? It's a smart plan. To have a Death Eater inside Hogwarts walls. Especially with the fact that Draco shared so many classes with the chosen one. Harry saw this realisation as something to look into.

"Tomorrow," he thought, "I'll talk about it with Ron and Hermione tomorrow, maybe we can make a plan to catch him out. It's just all too strange."

And so, with the dark sky filling with constellations outside the window, the boys conversations growing dim. They all fell asleep. Awaiting what tomorrow would bring