This story is being written for the 25 Days of Draco and Harry Advent challenge over at Live journal which I participate in... this is my 3rd year doing it, Hope you all enjoy this yrs entry. New parts will be posted daily till Xmas...

Christmas At War by HPFangirl71

Part 1: Braving the Cold

The road stretched out lonely and dark ahead of him and the bitterness of the windy snow swirling around him burned Draco's limbs but he knew he couldn't give up hope. He'd already wasted several hours trying to find the headquarters and he couldn't give up now. He was on the run and unfortunately, they were his only hope…

Draco again perused the long road and sighed heavily. He'd almost given up on finding them but if he gave up, he'd be dead. Not only was he on run from his parents but also from the Dark Lord himself. Dementors, snatchers and a bloodthirsty werewolf were hunting him. In fact it was that last which had led him to run in the first place. Draco had seen Greyback and his Aunt Bella, the way they'd been looking at him and there was no way Draco wanted to be either of theirs play toy. So Draco had done the only thing he could… he'd run.

He pressed the pads of his fingers tightly beneath his armpits and tried valiantly to ignore the harshness of their pain as they throbbed against his body. He was sure they were frost bitten but he refused to think about it, focusing all his energy on finding Harry and the Order. Perhaps Kreacher had duped him and this wasn't the right place after all. He knew the Order was almost impossible to find without some sort of code or something but he'd had nothing to lose and everything to gain in finding them.

Kreacher, the impish house elf of the famed Potter had been visiting the Manor, unbeknownst to his Lordship. Draco had used that bit of knowledge to try to gain a foothold. The crazy old creature had given him the coordinates of this road but so far, Draco had seen nothing. There was nothing but a lonely expanse of road and the sharp stinging bite of frozen snow whipping into his face. Perhaps he'd die out here, but then again he figured that was supposed to be his fate all along. He was going to die one way or another in this war they were waging. Draco knew he was on the wrong side, had known it for quite some time but he was a Slytherin and self-preservation was born into him. He couldn't be brave like those Gryffindors or Loyal like a sodding Hufflepuff; he was far too cowardly and selfish for all that nonsense.

Draco walked for more than an hour up and down the road, the drifts of snow piling up fast. He passed what seemed to be an abandoned farmhouse several times and his frustration at his desperate situation grew with every moment. Finally, he sat down near a dilapidated letterbox that had definitely seen better days. What was he going to do? He obviously couldn't find this bloody Order of Potter's and he could feel himself growing sleepy from his travels. He knew he shouldn't let himself doze off, it was ill advised to go to sleep in such cold but every muscle in his body ached, crying out for rest. Draco let his eyelids close, he'd only rest for a moment he told himself. Only just a moment…