Wow! Three days later and you get another chapter! I deserve a medal. Haha, jk...but I will settle for a review from all y'all! ;p


Harry was irritated. At Snape, at Oliver, at Ron and Neville…the only one he didn't seem to be annoyed with was Draco. This was probably because Draco was quiet most of the time, seeming to sense that Harry's patience was wearing thin.

Firstly, Oliver kept surprising the team with sudden Quidditch practices – "In twenty minutes, Harry!" – and he therefore didn't have enough time to do his homework. Hermione was helping, turning out to be a much better friend than any of them had thought she could be, and he was grateful for that, but she was still bossy and it was grating at him when Ron would still argue with her. That seemed to be a favorite pastime of theirs, based on how often they went at it, even though they weren't truly angry. Then Oliver's brisk, nervous attitude during practice made Harry tense and nervous, sensing Oliver's nervousness about the coming game against Slytherin. Because of this, he took to reading a book Hermione had lent him called Quidditch Through the Ages. Even though it wasn't his own copy, he took comfort from the familiarity of it, remembering times when he'd been allowed to stay up at night reading it while he sat leaning against Sirius as the older man carded fingers through his hair absentmindedly. James and Sirius would be quieter – a rare occasion when the two of them were put together – reading their respective books while the fire crackled a few feet away, providing comforting warmth to the occupants…

But then Snape had taken the book, making up some excuse about library books not allowed outside of the castle – which Harry totally knew was bullshit – and then when he went to get it back, he'd been tossed out, but not before he'd seen and heard Snape's comments about that three-headed dog.

And then Neville – ever kindhearted Neville – had suggested that perhaps Snape had just been trying to stop someone else from reaching the trapdoor underneath the dog. And Harry, already miffed and now annoyed with what he perceived to be Neville taking Snape's side, snapped that that was a dumb idea and if Neville thought he was so smart, why didn't he just go and hang out with Hermione for a bit to see how smart he really was?

So now he had Neville hurt and avoiding him, Hermione insisting that a particular paragraph in his Transfiguration essay only confused the reader, Ron hardly noticing that Harry wasn't his usual carefree self, Snape being a greasy git, Oliver walking around tense about the game anfd making sure Harry was up on his game, and only Draco seeing that he was annoyed but not saying anything about it.

Needless to say, when the day came for the match against Slytherin, Harry didn't feel like he was on his best game. His stomach clenched with nervousness, and he jumped when Fred – or was it George? – came up behind him in the locker room and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, mate," the other boy said. "No one's ever died in a match before."

"But people have been known to vanish sometimes," the other twin said.

"But they were found in the Sahara desert a few months later, and they weren't too different," the first twin said.

"Quiet, you two," Oliver said, walking in and glaring at the twins. He climbed up to stand on one of the benches, looking out at all of the players on the team.

"Okay men," he said.

"And women," one of the Chasers, Angelina Johnson, said.

"And women," Oliver agreed. "This is it."

Fred interjected, "The big one."

"The one we've all been waiting for," George added.

Harry didn't completely understand Oliver's miffed expression until Fred – at least, he thought it was Fred – turned to him and said:

"We know Oliver's speech by heart. We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," Oliver said with a glare, though Harry thought he detected a bit of humor sparkling in his eyes. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

Harry felt his heart warm, nervousness fading a little as Oliver caught his eye, seeming to send him a reassuring look. Then Oliver glared at the rest of the team as though to say, "Or else."

"Right," Oliver said, jumping off of the bench and landing in front of them. "It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry's heart rate picked up, and he followed Fred and George out of the locker room, hoping his knees wouldn't give out as he walked onto the field to be welcomed by loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry was hardly paying attention as his heart fluttered wildly in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus 2000, and risked looking into the crowd. His heart beat faster at all of the people he saw there, all around him, watching him…

But then his eyes caught sight of the two men in the front row, faces painted a solid red with hair charmed gold as they cheered. He couldn't work up the strength to grin, but seeing James and Sirius made him calm down much more than the poster his friends had made earlier. Even Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice were there, though they had neither face paint nor charmed hair, simply wearing Gryffindor colors to show their support. They all gave him thumbs up when they saw him looking their way.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Madam Hooch's blast of her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.


About an hour and a half or so later, Harry was in Hagrid's hut, as Hagrid made a strong pot of tea for him, James, Sirius, Neville, Draco, Ron, and Hermione. Draco was mostly quiet, staring at Sirius, who like James had not bothered to remove the face paint or the charm on their hair. Sirius and James fussed worriedly over Harry while Neville shared glances with his friend behind his uncles' backs. Ron sat quietly for once while Hermione explained what she had seen earlier during the match.

"…And so I snatched Hagrid's binoculars and looked into the teachers' stands," she continued, and James and Sirius finally moved away from Harry, who kept insisting that he was fine – the shakiness was just the adrenaline still running through him from the near-death experience.

"And sure enough, Professor Snape was staring and muttering, trying to jinx Harry's broom."

Sirius and James both whipped their heads around to look at Hermione.

"Snape?" they both said in the same harsh voice. Hermione was slightly taken aback – just a moment ago they had been concerned parents, and now they looked fit to kill.

"Rubbish," Hagrid interjected before the golden-haired duo could do anything violent. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

"Because," Sirius said darkly. "He is an evil, hook-nosed, slimy, greasy-haired, pompous – "

"Sirius!" Harry interjected before his godfather could continue. He vaguely processed that his friends – sans Neville, of course – seemed a bit surprised to see the grown man speaking like a teenager, but that wasn't the main concern at the moment. He glanced at his friends, wondering what to say, and finally settled on the truth.

"I found something out about him," he confessed to the three adults. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot, and James and Sirius' eyes widened in shock.

"Three-headed dog?!" James exclaimed at the same time that Hagrid said, "How do you know about Fluffy?"

This time it was all seven of them that said in stunned voices, "Fluffy?"

Hagrid appeared a bit uncomfortable at the looks he was receiving from the others, especially the still murderous-looking James and Sirius.

"Why in hell is there a three-headed dog in the school?" Sirius said in a deadly calm voice.

"He's mine," Hagrid explained, "Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the – "

"Yes?" Harry said eagerly.

"Now don't ask me anymore," Hagrid said gruffly with a glance to James and Sirius. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it," Harry insisted. "We saw that he had a bite on his leg that night with the troll."

"And I think it shouldn't be a secret any longer when someone just tried to kill Harry," James said coldly, squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid – I've read all about them!" Hermione interjected. "You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid said hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student!"

"Because he's a teacher, right?" Sirius said snidely. "Because teachers are on a pedestal and they can do no wrong, can't they?"

Hagrid appeared uncomfortable in the face of the two vexed parents' fury, but he wasn't budging. "Now, listen to me, all of yeh." He looked around at all of them as he spoke. "Yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel – "

"Aha!" Harry exclaimed. "So there's someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?"

"His name sound familiar…" Sirius mused.

Hagrid looked furious with himself.


That night, after a very lengthy discussion with Dumbledore in which they learned nothing, James and Sirius bid farewell to Harry and Neville, telling them to be careful, and to stay away, like Hagrid had said. When they turned their backs, Neville and Harry looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Yeah, right.

James and Sirius walked out the front doors, planning to stop in Hogsmeade for some dinner before apparating home. But as they were walking down the pathway, they heard a young voice calling behind them.

"Mr. Black! Mr. Black, wait!"

Sirius turned around and saw a little blond-haired boy running toward him. His cheeks were flushed with the cold, his face slightly anxious as his cloak flapped behind him. He recognized Draco Malfoy as the boy got closer and came to a stop in front of him.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Malfoy?" Sirius said politely, not sure what to say to the boy. Of course he knew he was friends with Harry now, but on what grounds?

"Draco," he corrected. "Please. Can…can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Of course, Draco, but you must call me Sirius. 'Mr. Black' sounds like my father." He turned to James and said, "Why don't you go on ahead? I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks."

James nodded without a word, seeming to sense what Draco wanted to speak with Sirius about. He gave them a smile and then turned to walk away down the path.

Sirius and Draco followed at a much more sedate pace, more of a stroll, really. Sirius waited for Draco to speak first, letting him organize his thoughts.

"Harry talks about you a lot," Draco finally said, and Sirius smiled a little at the news. "Everyone knows how you're the only one from the Black family to be in Gryffindor; Harry says you call yourself 'the white sheep of the Black family.'"

Sirius chuckled – it was true. He could see Draco gaining a bit of confidence at the small laugh as he continued, "Why did you end up going into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin? I mean…did you always know that you wanted to be in Gryffindor, or was it a surprise to you?"

Sirius contemplated what to say for a minute. "I always thought I'd be in Slytherin," he finally said. "My parents were very…enthusiastic, shall we say, about being a 'proper pureblood'. Slytherin values the pureblooded, and being in Gryffindor – the House of blood traitors, as they were called – would be a slap in the face.

"I had a younger brother – Regulus – and he was very different from me. He was more what you'd call a 'proper Slytherin', always looking out for himself before others, including me. So while my parents fawned and doted on him because he was what they perceived as perfection, I was punished for making friends with a Muggle at the park.

"I took to copying Regulus' actions then, and my parents thought I was turning out spectacularly, but my heart wasn't really in it. I didn't see the big deal in pureblooded nonsense, and that came out when I was Sorted into Gryffindor."

"But how did you…you know, how did you decide?" Draco asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Actually, it was mainly because of James – Harry's dad," he answered. "We met on the train, and we started talking about pranks. It was an instant friendship. Now, don't tell him I said this – no need for his head to get any bigger than it already is – but I wanted to be more like him. And it wasn't as though I was changing my beliefs because of him, but he made it clearer. Because of what we discussed on the train, and how we interacted, I wanted to stay with him, and I knew he was going to be in Gryffindor. At first though, I sat and argued with the Hat, but it finally convinced me to do what I wanted, and not what was expected, and voila! Gryffindor it was. And I loved every moment of it."

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking…" Draco appeared nervous, but he pressed on, "…what did your parents do?"

Sirius' expression darkened a bit, and Draco was about to apologize for upsetting the man, but Sirius spoke before he could.

"They were upset, of course," he said. "My mother would never send a Howler for my 'disgrace' – too embarrassing for the family – but she sent me a particularly nasty letter when she found out. It basically outlined what a disgrace I was to the House of Black, how she ought to disown me and be done with it already, that sort of thing. Then she sent me various letters throughout the first semester that told me that I would be punished as soon as I came home, how I shouldn't even think about staying at Hogwarts…" His eyes had a sort of faraway look in them as he remembered that time in his life, but he snapped back to the present rather quickly when Draco spoke again.

"Did you stay? At Hogwarts – for Christmas?"

Sirius grinned widely. "But of course I did! I wasn't going to let a thing like parents stop me from having a fun Christmas for once. You see, past Christmases were boring and awful for me anyway – the gifts we exchanged were weapons and books on the Dark Arts and such, and our 'extravagant' feasts at dinnertime were nothing more than talk of politics and such over dinner with people I hardly knew. The ones I did know were bloody awful that I wished I didn't."

Malfoy seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, and was nodding his head, eyes focused on his feet as they walked along the path. It was quiet for some time before Sirius finally spoke again.

"How did your parents react?" he asked kindly, looking down at the boy.

Draco looked down, avoiding his gaze. "Well, they weren't too happy about it…"

Sirius nodded knowingly. "Yes, Lucy has always been very stringent in his beliefs."

Draco looked up then, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "'Lucy'?"

Sirius nodded solemnly. "Yes. Lucy. We started calling him that in school, because whenever he screamed…he squealed like a little girl."

Draco outright laughed at that, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Did you ever say it to his face?"

Sirius looked shocked. "Why, of course! A name like that is too perfect of an opportunity to pass up on. He was furious, of course."

Draco chuckled, and Sirius proceeded to tell him many stories of when his father was pranked in school until they reached the gates leading into Hogsmeade. They bid farewell to the other, and Draco walked back to the school, feeling much more at ease than he had before.


Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake had frozen solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

One day during Potions class, one of the Slytherins – Nott was his name – was talking loudly with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"I do feel so sorry," he said with a sidelong glance to the Gryffindors, or more specifically, Draco Malfoy, "For all those who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Draco, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Draco had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; based on what Sirius had said a few weeks before, this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had, even though he was going to be the only boy in his dorm. But he tried not to think about that. His parents had never said anything specifically about coming home for Christmas – Lucius had just said that Draco would know what to expect when he came home. Well, he could go home in the summer then and receive his punishment then, couldn't he?

Harry was Draco's Potions partner, and he'd clearly heard what Nott had said for everyone to hear. Everyone knew of Draco's situation at home now that he was Gryffindor – they knew that his family wouldn't be happy, and many Slytherins were nothing short of gleeful about it. It was exactly as it had been with Sirius almost twenty years ago – they loved to see the old pureblooded house knocked down a peg or two.

So Harry said rather loudly to Draco, "You know, Draco, I do feel so sorry for all those that have to go home because only their mothers would want to spend time with them. It's such a shame when after four months, they still don't have any friends."

Nott flushed in equal parts anger and embarrassment, but Neville spoke to Harry before the other boy could say anything.

"I'm going to have such fun at Hogwarts for Christmas, Harry – aren't you?"

Silently thanking the gods for Neville's ability to catch on so quickly, Harry said, "Of course. I was making plans with Draco earlier – let's talk later…it could get interesting."

As they went back to their potions, Nott's face now an angry red, Draco grinned at Harry in appreciation. Harry grinned back, and Harry made a mental note to send his dad a letter telling him that he would be staying at Hogwarts.


Now that Draco knew he had at least a few more months till he went home, he was much happier. He joked with the four of them, and true happiness sparkled in his eyes. Ron especially seemed to have gotten over his prejudices of the young Malfoy, and they were frequently seen to be playing Wizard's chess together in the common room as the holidays approached. It was a tossup as to who was better at the game – they had won an equal number of times already, and they now had a friendly competition going on as to who would win the most amount of times by the end of the school year.

Hermione was disappointed that she had to go home, but her parents were taking her abroad for the break, so she supposed she couldn't complain too much. She assured them that she would ask her parents who this Nicholas Flamel was – it was deemed safe to ask, as both of them were dentists. The four boys were supposed to keep looking in the library for any mention of Flamel, though it was clear that she doubted that they would be searching very diligently as they were on break.

They also had to contend with Madam Pince, the librarian, who kept insisting that if they weren't doing anything they needed to "get out!" Hagrid, of course, had found out they were still searching when Neville told him rather cheerfully what they were doing in the library so close to the holidays. But he couldn't do anything about it other than insist they stay away…which they had no intention of doing.

The day before the train left Hogsmeade, Neville and Harry had even gotten together a large snowball fight that consisted mainly of Gryffindors, though also many from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. No Slytherins joined.

Soon the fight turned into boys vs. girls, and so the four boys had a fun time pelting Hermione with snowballs, her gleeful laughter joining in with everyone else's. Draco's grey eyes were alight with mischief when he used Wingardium Leviosa to levitate a big pile of snow to drop on the first year girls behind their fort. A moment later he found himself in the same predicament as the Ravenclaw prefect did the same to him. His laughter broke above everyone else's.

Up in a tower above the merry children, a usually dour man found his face breaking into a small smile. He hadn't seen Draco this happy the entire semester. It was good to see his godson break free, even if – he scowled – it was because of Harry Potter's plan.

When Potter had spoken up a couple of days before in Potions, he had thought that perhaps he would say something against Draco. After all, his father had worked for the very man that killed his mum, and he was still loyal to the Dark Lord, even after his supposed demise. Yes, he'd known that they'd been something of friends, but he hadn't thought that Potter would stay at Hogwarts for Christmas just to keep him company. He didn't think they were that close.

But when Potter spoke, defending Malfoy in an admittedly very Slytherin-like way, the way his green eyes flashed reminded him of Lily when she was defending a certain somebody else against a bully. That somebody else being him.

"Severus?"

Snape turned to see Albus looking at him in a knowing way, and he felt irritation stir up within him.

"Yes," he said to what they had been previously talking about. "That sounds acceptable to me."

"It's alright to feel something for him, my boy," Albus said serenely. "He is much more like Lily, you know."

"No, I don't," Snape sneered, and without another word, made his way from the office.

Albus' smile was still in place as the gargoyle disappeared.


I know I never mentioned their friendship with Hagrid before, but let's just assume that they met in Diagon Alley, or something...