Slytherin Secret Santa

A/N: Hi! This is for the preliminaries for the Countdown to Christmas Drabble / Oneshot Competition by Screaming Faeries on HPFC. We could write anything about Christmas. Enjoy!

(The Millicent/Tracey pairing in this is not a focal point, all nine teens are equally represented but I chose four of the more prominent characters)

Warnings: a little swearing, mentions of drug use.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Harry Potter series nor am I making any money from writing this, just having a lot of fun!

...

"Alright, alright," Theo chimed a fork on his glass and the table quietened. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to Nott Hall, I hope you all had lovely journeys–" the table laughed and looked to Greg, whose Thestral had been injured not far from his own house and he'd had to walk the rest of the way to Theo's place "more importantly, on this night, Christmas Eve, we hold our annual Secret Santa!"

The table applauded and Theo held his arm out to his left, left always starts, and Blaise reached for the small box in front of him. It was wrapped neatly in shiny blue paper with a silver flower on top from which glitter slowly floated out of, already leaving a sizeable pile on the table.

"Based on wrapping alone," The asked, "who do you think is your Secret Santa?"

"Not Vinny."

"Any guesses more specific?" Theo asked over the laughter.

"I'll take a guess at Tracey."

"Trace?"

She shook her head but held a cheeky grin.

"Alright, Blaise, open it up."

Blaise took the flower off without damaging it but tore apart the wrapping to reveal a small, intricately carved wooden box, a number of snakes in small grooves twisted their way around the box, which occasionally emitted small hisses as they slithered about. Blaise opened the lid to see an armband of shining silver, another snake, and when Blaise picked it up it immediately slithered up and under his reached out hand. Blaise took his shirt off (although he never really needed an excuse to do so) to show the snake had wound itself perfectly around his upper arm.

"Nice," Pansy breathed. She sat next to Blaise and tentatively reached a finger out to touch it. Whatever she was going to do the group would never know, for the snake burst back to life to hiss threateningly at Pansy. It only returned to its bracelet form once Pansy's hand had fallen. "Creepy," she corrected.

"Second guess is Draco," Blaise said, looking across to the blonde boy, looking his usual sullen self just with a festive knitted jumper the likes no one ever expected to see on such a proud child.

"Hardly," Draco said, emotionless.

"Final guess?"

"I don't know, I'm certain Tracey wrapped – oh, Millicent." His gaze stopped on Millicent's arm snaked, around Tracey's.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Yeah, looks great."

"There's a scroll in there with some charms for it, too."

Blaise stood up and moved around to give Millicent a hug.

"You knew it was Milli because you thought I wrapped it?" Tracey asked.

"Well, yeah," Blaise shrugged. " No one else is going to ask you to wrap something for them."

"You've asked me before."

"I didn't give this present to myself."

"Pansy, you're up," Theo directed, and Pansy reached forwards to take another small box from the table. It was an unwrapped, purple velvet box that would only open when Pansy pressed her wand to the small gold badge on top (as was common practice in high-end jewellers across Europe). "Based on wrapping?"

"Lack of wrapping suggests Vinny." Pansy answered, elbowing the boy sitting to her left.

"Cheers, Pansy, but no."

"Tough luck," Theo said. "Open her up."

Pansy pulled her wand from her sleeve and, setting the box back down on the table, tapped it gently with her wand. The top half of the box melted away and a platform inside rose, upon which hung a necklace and matching earrings. Each held a single pale blue, tear-shaped crystal, and the colours inside the crystals floated around as though they were indeed small oceans.

"Ooh, pretty," Daphne sang, leaning forward.

"Right?" Vince mimicked Daphne's tone and widened his eyes, leaning forwards as though hypnotised.

Pansy scoffed and smacked him away.

"Second guess?" Theo asked.

"One of you rich snobs," she said. Hardly a specific guess, most of them were from rich families. Pansy, Theo and Millicent were probably the 'poorest' though they still lived in large houses filled with inherited treasures and magical artefacts.

"Specify, please."

"Draco."

"No," Draco said, toneless.

"Um… Tracey?" Surely such a gift was from one of the girls? Tracey shook her head.

"Oh, too bad," Theo said. He stood and retrieved a dark-stained glass bottle from a table on the side of the room, and filled Pansy's glass half-way. "Drink up, lovely."

"No, no, who was it?" She exclaimed, stalling.

"Drink up first," Theo instructed, as he returned to the head of the table and set the bottle down.

Pansy pouted but raised the glass to her lips. It was a dark-gold coloured liquid, and held the consistency of water, only Pansy was close enough to smell the hot Mexican spices mixed in. She threw it back in one go and kept composed for all of half a second, enough time to put the glass back on the table, before she coughed and splattered, quickly ran for the kitchen, and returned with a fresh glass of milk.

"Fuck you all," Pansy said. "Why do we always have to use that stuff?"

"It's tradition, now, Pans," Theo said. Half the table still held their hands to their mouths or chins in an effort to stifle their laughter. "Christmas ain't Christmas without Fuego."

Whisky de Fuego Tabasco was brand of Firewhiskey produced in Villahermosa, Mexico, that Tracey had discovered one summer whilst travelling with her family. She was the youngest of five, and her older siblings paved the way for many of the group's drinking habits, including this particularly festive one. It had more of a kick than any Firewhiskey produced in the UK, and was a special kind of motivation when it came to guessing secret santas.

Tracey's older brother Dante had given it to her for Christmas during their fourth year Christmas celebrations (completely underwraps from their strict parents, of course). Due to Greg being away in Monaco and Blaise in Milan, they'd held their secret santa later on the 27th, when Tracey had offered the drink as that year's punishment. It had simply stuck.

"So who was Pansy's secret santa?" Theo asked the table at large.

"Twas I!" Daphne stood and made a grand gesture, spreading out her arms, before taking a formal bow and taking her seat again. She giggled and waved a dismissive hand, destroying the pretence of high-class posture. "What do you think? I thought they'd be perfect for you, they certainly match that blue dress you got for that Goyle-Burke wedding last year."

"Yeah, definitely, thanks Daph." She held her wand to a new gold emblem on the front of the box's base and the jewellery gently sunk, enveloped in the velvet.

Greg whistled. "Fan-cy."

Vince was next, and in front of him lay a poorly wrapped circular object, blurring slightly as though something inside were trying to escape.

"I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, "and whilst I have a fair idea of what it is, it could possibly still be any of you just jumping on to the whole Vinny's-head-can-break-a-bludger thing."

It was during Slytherin's second Quidditch match, against Ravenclaw way back in January, which they'd won, of course. Isla, Daphne's sister, came for the day to take some photographs to put up in the Slytherin Common Room (she was a photographer for the Daily Prophet's Sport pullout), and Vince had flown in the way just as Isla took a shot of Greg hitting a bludger. The photo made it look like Vince had hit the bludger with his head, and the temporary curve in the ball from Greg's bat made it look like Vince was indeed about to break the bludger with his own skull.

"Probably," Theo laughed. "Got a guess based on wrapping?"

"Who sucks at wrapping…?" Vince mused. "Greg."

"I wish, mate," Greg said. "It's probably exactly what I would have got you anyway."

"Alright, Vince," Theo said. "Open it up."

"Is it safe to open up?" Vince asked, looking around the table at everyone. "If this is a live goddamn bludger I don't want to let in loose in Theo's house."

"You're a beater, can't you subdue it?"

"Oh fuck off."

Greg pulled his wand out and pointed it sharply at Vincent's present, and it eventually stilled. "Okay," he said. "I've got it. You can open it."

Vince gingerly pulled the paper off to reveal a bludger sitting quietly on the table, although every few seconds it would give a violent shudder as it tried to escape Greg's spell.

"Guesses?" Theo asked.

"This is one lame-ass Christmas present," Vince observed. "Two high end prizes and now a bloody bludger?"

"No pun intended?" Greg asked, and Vince elbowed him.

"Guesses?" Theo repeated.

Vince sighed. "You."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Yep!" Theo pulled a large bag from under the table. "I thought it would be funny but I did get you a real present."

"Cheers," Vince said as Blaise and Pansy passed it down.

Inside was a deep purple shirt with a gold star, and on the back in large gold letters read 'MCILVAIN'. It was a Pride of Portree team shirt, and Aiden McIlvain was easily Vince's favourite player, a beater there for eight years now.

"Thanks, man," Vince said, not taking his eyes off the shirt. They soon widened when he noticed the cursive writing on the back; McIlvain's signature. "Dude! Signed?" He stood up to shake Theo's hand before pulling him into half a hug.

"Alright, Greg? You're up."

Greg guessed Pansy on packaging alone, a neat but awkward red wrapping tied with black string, but he was wrong. Inside was a leather-bound book with writing no one seemed to be able to read.

"Oh, damn," Greg said. "It's the new Runes Uncovered, it includes all the latest discoveries. You have to read the whole thing before you can read the title."

"How do you know if you can't read it?" Tracey asked.

"These four symbols in the corners," Greg pointed them out as he spoke, "also, the publisher on the bottom of the spine, and on the back here, it tells me so." He showed the table the blurb, written in neat English.

"I'm gonna guess Draco."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, looking more animated than the others had seen in some time. "Why?"

"Because you're the only one here other than me that studies Ancient Runes at school."

"Someone could have come to me asking for help in getting you something."

"None of us would.."

Draco sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

"Was I right?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks buddy, I love it."

"I know," Draco muttered. He was well aware of Greg's extensive collection of the series, having been published almost annually since 1763.

"Alright, Daph," Theo called. "You're next."

"I guess Greg," she said immediately.

"You – what?" Greg spluttered. "How could you know?"

"You use these boxes every year," Daphne told him, indicating the large box in front of her. It was the only box sitting on the table of presents, not including Pansy's smaller velvet one.

"It's true," Theo said, appearing beside Greg and pouring him half a glass of the Fuego. "Drink up, buddy."

"Time to change my strategy I guess," Greg said, drinking up. His shoulders heaved as he coughed but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes watered. Eventually he wiped his eyes and took a deep breathe. "Who's next?"

"Do you want some milk?" Pansy asked him, leaning back to see him as Vincent sat between the pair. Greg merely shook his head.

"Alright, just over half and only two drinkers."

"Pretty average," Blaise observed, and the others laughed.

"Draco, you're up."

Draco pointed at Daphne as she piped up. "Can I open my present first, thanks?"

"Oh yeah," Theo laughed and nodded.

Daphne stood to remove the box's lid and pulled out the fabric inside. Eventually it spilled out and she raised her arms to show the others the deep blue gown Greg had bought her. The waist line was embroidered with silver and black diamonds that looked like they were swirling around the dress and one line in particular fell to frame a slit up the right side.

"Aw, I love it," Daphne said. She laid the dress over the back of her chair and wrapped her arms around a still sitting Greg, who muffled a reply no one heard.

Daphne carefully folded the dress back up and into the box as Draco examined his gift, a tall thin box wrapped in deep green paper that reflected the light from the candles around the room and the dozens more hanging from the chandelier above them. There was no bow or ribbon; it was just folded neatly at the sides.

"Tracey," he said, not looking up.

"Damn," Tracey laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't wrap my presents so nicely."

Theo poured Tracey a glass and she drank it easily.

"I feel like Tracey should get something stronger," Blaise said, smirking at her. "You drink plenty of this stuff at home, you have a much higher tolerance for it."

"I can get you some if you like," she offered. "Dante loves it so he imports much more than he needs, he won't mind if you take some."

Blaise's nose shrivelled up. "No thanks."

"So what did you get?" Millicent asked, nudging Draco lightly.

He opened the paper to reveal a simple box and inside was an elongated S-shaped bottle, with a small neck at the top and a wooden stopper. Inside was a thick, dark pink liquid that everyone instantly recognised, and the group breathed as one.

"Isla?" Draco asked. Tracey nodded.

Tracey's sister Isla, amongst being a professional photographer, was married to a pub-owner from the Netherlands she'd met when she first finished at Hogwarts. Only Tracey and Millicent had met the guy, and they both swore up and down he was pretty cool and all, but underneath the honest business of his was a roaring drug trade in the local substance called longen. It loosened up most people, brought on a high that lasted hours and, in large amounts, caused vivid hallucinations.

"Thanks, Trace," Draco said, replacing the lid on the box.

Draco won't ever talk about it, but longen and piena (an Italian drug) were what pulled him through a lot of days. It had been happening since the start of fifth year, and at first they'd attributed it to OWLs, but by now they knew better. They knew, loosely, that his family was in close with the new Death Eater activities. Almost everyone's parents were involved, Tracey and Blaise being the exception, but Draco himself was involved. They just limited his usage as much as they could and provided distractions as much as they could. This one bottle would probably last him through the rest of the school year, and Tracey was responsible enough to make sure it did.

"Millicent, you're up."

Millicent didn't even pick up her present; she just looked between Blaise, Pansy and Vince, the last three remaining secret santas.

"Who do we want to drink the Fuego more?" she asked. She cocked her head to Tracey slightly but her eyes continued to dart between the three.

"Not fussed," Tracey answered. "But Blaise and Pansy can't handle the stuff."

"I guess Blaise." Millicent said, looking to Theo.

"You can't-" Blaise spluttered. "You can't just gang up on me like that! Guess using what you've got!"

"What I've got is a one in three chance of guessing right, and if I feel like ganging up on you, I will."

"Theo?" Blaise turned to his friend. "You're chairman this year, what's your ruling?"

"The ruling is Millicent can guess any way she wants. She can put her own guesses at risk by not examining the present but it's still up to her."

"And the outside influence of her and Tracey wanting me to drink Fuego?"

"Irrelevant."

Blaise sighed. "Pour me a glass, then."

"Ha, I was right?" Millicent asked, leaning forward with her features lit up in delight.

"Yeah, enjoy your present." Blaise stood and headed towards the kitchen.

"Where do you think you're going?" Millicent called.

He returned a second later and held up a glass of milk. "You know I can't take it."

Blaise sulked a little before taking a sip of the spicy drink. He shuddered and gave a small cough before taking a larger gulp. This time he coughed outright and had to put the glass down. He reached for the milk, nose twitching, but Theo pulled it away.

"Nope, rules are you have to take the Fuego all at once. Taking a sip is already pushing it."

"That's not fair." Blaise protested, but no one listened and he groaned before picking up the Fuego once more and knocking the glass back. He didn't even manage to drink the whole thing before he cried out and raised a hand to pull his tongue out of his mouth. Some of the drink was spilt on the table cloth and another mouthful still sat in the bottom of the glass. He coughed and shuddered for some time before he reached for the glass again and finished it off. Then he slammed the empty glass down, grabbed the milk he brought out, and stood up to pace around the room in an attempt to shake off the fire in his mouth.

"Aw, I feel kinda bad," Tracey said, a smile on her face. She looked to Millicent, who scoffed and gave a shake of her head.

"We have to train him up for graduation," she replied.

"That's not for another year and a half!" Blaise said, stopping dead in his tracks to point at Millicent. "You're still just trying to punish me for the whole Elion Thing!"

"That, too," Millicent said with an understanding nod.

Elion Burke, a Slytherin boy in the year level above them, had been talking to Blaise one night at a party and asked about Millicent being 'available'. Blaise, half pissed, just nodded and accepted the beer Elion had held out. In the following conversation Elion had had with Millicent, during which he'd tried to kiss her, he'd mentioned Blaise telling him she wasn't dating, and then she'd hexed him out of the room they were using. Millicent had mentioned she'd punish him, and had done so a couple of times, sending Hufflepuff girls after him and writing a letter to his mother Siena asking for a pink pygmy puff (she'd earlier tried to destroy one in Weasley's Wizards Wheezes at Diagon Alley over the Summer after it tried to land on her shoulder), amongst other things.

"As chairman for the evening," Theo called to the group. "I motion Blaise has indeed been punished enough for his drunken conversation with Elion Burke and is formerly forgiven by both Millicent and Tracey."

"I!" Pansy, Daphne, Greg and Vince called out as they raised their hands, and Draco merely raised his in silence.

Theo turned to the girls, whilst Blaise stood silently, now behind his chair and across the table from Tracey and Millicent.

The girls looked at each other, making slight expressions, small twitches and pinching lips, before Millicent sighed. "Okay, we won't do anything else to you. But I still don't like that you did it."

"I didn't know he was talking about you!" Blaise cried, repeating a story he'd told several times. "He just said that brunette and Marigold was in the same damn direction as you!"

"It's cool," Millicent said, raising her arms in surrender. "I forgive you."

Blaise grumbled and sat back down, drinking the last of the milk, though his eyes were still filled with tears in the corners.

Theo coughed loudly, failing to dispel the awkwardness, before speaking up. "So Millicent, what did he get you?

Millicent pulled forward a square-shaped package loosely wrapped in black paper with little golden broomsticks flying around on it. Inside were two books that brought an excited squeal from Millicent. "It's the Hanton Prequels!" Tracey's eyes widened and her eyes darted to Blaise with a look that suggested she'd also bought the books for Millicent and was planning to give them to her tomorrow for Christmas. He caught the look and grinned.

The Hanton Trilogy was a favoured series of Millicent's depicting the fictitious rise and fall of a fictitious Quidditch Team called the Ashford Ashwinders and followed ten characters who were all a part of the team at one point or other, in one way or other. The two prequels were released after many readers begged for more and requested back stories.

"I feel kinda bad now," Millicent said, looking up at Blaise. He shrugged it off.

"My turn?" Tracey asked. Theo nodded and she pulled forth the flat square parcel in front of her. It was wrapped in red paper and had various lime-green ribbons wrapped around it and knotted all over the place.

"Based on the wrapping or just who do you think looks more responsible?" Theo asked. The group watched as Pansy and Vince gave neutral looks to Tracey, poker faces that would do any Slytherin proud, and she carefully analysed their expressions.

"I think Pansy would do a better job than this so I'll go Vince."

Vince nodded and Theo came around to pour him so Fuego. Vince drank it easily; he grew up with a chef from India so was more used to spicy foods and drinks than the rest of the group.

Tracey took her time undoing all the knots until Millicent pulled her wand out and vanished the final two ribbons. Millicent stuck her tongue out at Tracey's feign-shocked expression, before Tracey opened the paper to find a hard-covered book with stripes of red and lime on the cover. In blazing gold lettering it announced itself as The Caerphilly Catapults: Our First Fifty Dangerous Dai's. Tracey was a huge fan of the Catapults, and the team yearly gave The Dangerous Dai Commemorative Medal to the bravest and most foolhardly player during each season, in honour of the now deceased Dai Llewellyn.

"Oh, this is a limited edition!" Tracey explained, looking up at Vince with a greedy look in her eyes. "Even Isla couldn't get her hands on a copy!" If any Davis was going to acquire that book, it would indeed have been the sports-involved, charismatic Isla. And the whole family were Caerphilly nuts.

Vince looked pretty pleased with himself but remained tight lipped.

"How did you get this?" Tracey's voice was barely a whisper but it still held a decent threat.

"I have my ways," was all Vince said.

Tracey stood up. "No, you don't just happen upon this book. This is a limited edition for members only and you are not a – oh, you're aunty Carolyn?"

Tracey's voice had risen and risen but soon deflated in acceptance at her realisation. Carolyn Crabbe was the owner of a publishing company in London that many big names and several sporting teams used. Vince made a little sad face when he figured it out, hoping to retain some mysteriousness, but she was still very happy with the present, so he was, too.

"And last but least," Greg said, looking to Theo.

"Oi!" Theo frowned. "That's last but not least."

"I know what I said," Greg grinned.

Theo shook his head in exasperation but happily grabbed his present, a neat box wrapped in dark blue paper with spellotape on the ends covered in little Christmas trees.

"Well, this is going to be hard," Theo scratched his chin, where some stubble had grown over the holidays whilst the school couldn't demand he shave every morning. "But, I think, this may be from Pansy."

The group laughed. Of course it was Pansy, she was the last one left. As such, she didn't have to drink another glass of Fuego.

"Go on, just open it," Pansy said, leaning forward slightly and resting her arms on the table.

Theo used a butter knife to slice down the side and pulled out a hard, black box that was flat, almost shaped like a book. He lifted the lid to reveal an intricate set of small bottles with various coloured liquids and three elegant looking quills with unusually sharp tips. On the underside of the lid were instructions carved into the box in grey letters.

"Is this what I think it is?" Theo looked to Pansy, who winked.

"What is it?" Daphne asked. AT the other end of the table, she couldn't see as well as the others.

"It's an Inking Set," Millicent stated, and Pansy nodded to confirm.

"The Avery Black Edition, by the look of it," Theo explained. "The ink is the latest in the industry, you know how sometimes they fade after a couple months, or the minute you charm it to get it to move around?"

"Yeah, like my safe-travel rune," Tracey said. "It lasted barely five weeks, and it wasn't even animated."

The Avery Company dealt in small, do-it-yourself tattooing kits that could be charmed for various reasons, to keep them permanent, or to remove them, to make them move, to change colours, some people even laced drugs into them. They'd received a lot of complaints about the quality and the Black Edition was its answer.

"I got myself a kit, too," Pansy said, lifting up her left sleeve. On the inside of her wrist was her name in spiralling calligraphy that spread out to frame the five letters, and below it moved into a Pansy flower. The whole thing was probably only six centimetres across, and though it was in black ink it had a faint glow about it. "This has been on for three weeks now and it's barely faded, so whatever the new formula is, it works."

"Nice, thanks Pans." Theo packed the kit up and called out for a house-elf, Twig.

What followed was three courses of the finest food wizarding royalty like the Notts could offer, succulent steaks and chickens, vegetables roasted to perfection, salads with influences from every continent, all ending in the mother of all cakes, built like a tier-cake with three layers; black forest, red velvet and marble.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, Theo gave a mighty yawn. "Well, I hope you guys all had fun, that's about it, unless you've got any other ideas?"

"Nah, I should get home," Greg said, standing up. "Catching the first portkey across the Channel tomorrow to visit my cousins."

Draco stood. "I'll come with you; I should get going, too."

Everyone else began to rise and pack their things, wishing last minute Merry Christmases, and various curses in the cases of those who lost and had to drink the Fuego.

The group would all be split up until Hogwarts now. Greg to his extended family in Monaco, Draco to his manor and whatever awaited him there, and Daphne to her family and whatever business they'd been handling whilst she'd left - she was the eldest and had such a level head that her parents had already begun training her in running their family estates and businesses.

Tracey and Millicent would head back to Tracey's home in Aberystwyth, Millicent's family had practically kicked her out when they found out about their relationship, and the Davis's had welcomed her into their family with open arms.

Blaise would be heading to his home in London but he and his sister would probably meet Greg at the Portkey Station tomorrow morning when they left for Italy. Pansy was heading north with her mother to visit some Prewetts in Scotland, and Vincent and his parents would be travelling with them but visiting their own family in Drummore.

And Theo would be having a quite night in, awaiting the arrival of several Notts and his mother's family, other Bulstrodes who were more closely related to him than Millicent.

But it was still nice that they got this chance, once a year, to just be amongst themselves and have a good night. No one knew what the future would bring, but they knew they could count on each other.

...

A/N:Hope you enjoyed this little oneshot. There's some uncharted territory in there for me when it comes to writing but I hope it all fit together nicely :)

Longen (Dutch): lungs - named for the ticklish feeling left in the lungs during the days after taking it.

Piena (Italian): flood, fill, complete - named for the relaxing and calming effect of the drug.

Drop a review and let me know what you think! Have a nice day!