Author's Note: This one got a bit long, but hopefully no one minds too much?

Christmas Cheer—Year Three

The students were all running around looking for last minute shoes and books that had gone missing as they packed up for the winter holidays. Maybe he was finally becoming accustomed to it, but the fall term hadn't seemed too bad. Only one of his first years had been homesick at the start of term. Only one particularly high strung fifth year had had a panic attack as her exams approached. And—as a particular point of pride—all of the students who had taken extra flying lessons with him the previous spring had made their respective house teams during the fall term. A couple of the latest batch of first years had expressed an interest in more of the same after hearing tales from the second years, but Draco told them to wait for spring and ask again.

Cassidy and Carolyn's extra study sessions were continuing. Draco wasn't sure that Cassidy really needed the extra sessions any longer, but the boy thought he did, and he was starting to pick up on some advanced work. It wasn't a huge drain on Draco's time or resources to keep doing it for him. He even had him making some of the hospital wing's potions—on a purely volunteer basis of course.

As all the students (and a few teachers) made their way to the doors to catch the carriages and train home for the holidays, Draco was surprised to see Longbottom sitting on the stairs. "Not going home for the holidays?" he asked, brow arched. He was fairly certain the other man had some sort of terrifying grandmother at home. Maybe that's why he wasn't going.

The words came out of Neville's mouth slowly and with great reluctance. He wasn't looking at Draco. "I'll go…go see my mum and dad on Christmas Day for a few hours, but there isn't anyone else to go home to." Both of his hands were in his pockets and he stared carefully at the wall. "My Gran passed on this summer. It wasn't exactly unexpected. She'd live a good long life, they say. But the house is too big to rattle around in on my own. I thought I'd stay here. Try to make Christmas a little brighter for the students that aren't going home. I was going to go to Hogsmeade and maybe pick up some candy from Honeydukes. There's only a handful from my house staying." The unasked invitation hung in the air.

"Would you mind some company?" The words came out of Draco partly as social convention, partly because the other man looked so in need of company.

"Not at all. How many from your house are staying?"

"Four." They detoured to the dungeons so Draco could get his cloak, scarf, and moneybag and then started off on the walk to Hogsmeade. They could have taken one of the carriages, but walking gave them a little distance from the students. By the time they had walked to the village, the students would have finished their carriage rides and boarded the train, which suited them both fine.

They were mostly quiet on the walk, moving carefully over the snowy track. As they entered Honeydukes, they stomped the snow off of their boots and looked around.

"I don't know the last time I was here," Neville admitted. "Before the war I think. It's good to see it reopened."

Draco nodded. Aside from a handful of trips to Hogsmeade—usually at Pomona's cajoling insistence—he hadn't really been back in the village since he'd been a student. When he'd first come back, he hadn't wanted to see anyone in the wizarding world who might recognize him for who he was. He ordered supplies by owl. And since then, he'd mostly continued to do the same out of habit.

They spent a little while picking out Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs, and a handful of other treats for the students who would be staying. As they stepped out of the store and into the bitter cold again, they both looked at the Three Broomsticks. It seemed like a better option than trekking back right at that moment.

However, Neville got sidetracked as they passed a shop window with Christmas stockings, and they both went in, coming out with enough stockings to put candy in for each of their students that was staying for the holidays. At last, they made it to the Three Broomsticks and ordered a couple of warm drinks.

Rosmerta smiled at Neville and Draco, her eyes lingering on Neville just a moment. "Welcome, Professors, good to have you in. I'll have your drinks right out."

With their shopping bags sitting on an empty chair, they peeled off their scarves and cloaks. Neville's eyed the handmade scarf for a second longer than necessary, but he didn't comment.

Draco found himself explaining it anyway. "It was a gift from one of my students the first year I was teaching. She made it herself. I figure I have to keep wearing the thing until she graduates."

Neville nodded and sipped his mulled cider. "Very thoughtful. Do you know why your students are staying?"

"At least one is a Muggle-born. Her family is willing to send her to Hogwarts, but they're not comfortable with the idea of magic. I'm not sure about the other three. Yours?"

"There's at least one war orphan, maybe two. I have to check my list," he admitted. "I suppose whatever they have at home has got to be pretty bad if Christmas in an empty castle is the better option."

Draco looked at the other man and couldn't decide if there was an implied question there, an invitation to talk if desired, or if he was just making a comment. He took another long sip of his cider. "I haven't gone home since I started teaching here. The Manor is just…I can't un-see the things that happen there. It's not my home anymore. My parents don't understand that. My mother writes to me sometimes, but I don't usually respond."

"That's stupid," Neville said automatically. "Not about the Manor—I've heard stories. I don't think I'd want to go back either if it was me. There's reason Harry hasn't been back to Hogwarts since the end of the war, though McGonagall has tried to get him to come back. Hell, I ran away from an empty house where nothing more terrible has happened than to have my Uncle dangle me out the window by my feet—long story—because I couldn't handle the emptiness. But Malfoy, you have your parents, and they want to see you. How can you not see them? I'd give anything for my parents to want to see me. To know who I was." He turned his head aside so Draco couldn't see his face, but he heard the way he seemed to choke on the words.

"The choices they made put me through hell. We had a terrorist living in our house," he said, through gritted teeth. "How do you move on from that?"

"Because holding onto it will kill you. Slowly and surely, but you're going to die on the inside. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" There was no response from the blond, so he tried another tact. "Malfoy, you'd say you and I have plenty of reasons to dislike one another, right?"

Draco nodded. He didn't quite trust his voice. He rather thought Longbottom had more reasons to dislike him than he had to dislike Longbottom.

"I didn't know you were teaching her when McGonagall signed me on. Once I knew, I knew I could either walk around like the mouse I was when you used to bully me. Or I could be a bully myself and try to make life hard for you now that I could. Or I could let it go. I let it go. And I felt better. I don't know everything that's gone on with you and your parents, and you don't have to tell me, but…there are students at that castle right now who don't have any parents to go home to. You have yours, for however much longer you'll have them. You never know how these things will go. If it was me, an awkward letter or a difficult Christmas Eve sounds better than decades of wishing you had made up with them. But that's just me."

The blond sat stiffly on his seat. "I"ll think about it." They didn't talk much as they finished their drinks. Nothing Longbottom had said was untrue. It was just hard to hear. Habit could become as powerful as fear or resentment. He'd avoided going home for so long, it didn't feel like an option anymore. But his mother still wrote to him, even though he didn't write back. By silent agreement, they gathered their bags as they finished their drinks and started heading back to the castle. The plan had been to put candy in all the stockings and have the house-elves set them out by the tree on Christmas Eve. Maybe they could get the elves to put names on them.

So few students were staying that Draco and Neville suggested to Minerva that they might have the Christmas Eve feast in one of the classrooms instead of the Great Hall. It couldn't do much for student morale to see all the empty seats and be reminded that they were amongst the few who didn't want to go home.

Minerva had nodded and smiled and said she would start on the arrangements.

After the Christmas Eve feast was ended, Draco sat down and wrote a letter, sending it before he could second guess himself. He'd been dithering over it for two weeks now nearly.

Mother,

What time is Christmas dinner tomorrow evening? I'll be sure to bring a bottle of Father's favorite wine.

Draco

Author's Note 2: Writing this chapter is what inspired the Christmas Stockings 1-shot I posted yesterday. Doing my best to keep everyone in character and give them all room to grow. I'm still out of town at the moment, but have transitioned from vacation last week to a rigorous round of business meetings all this week, so I should be going back to my normal posting rate of once or twice a week. Sorry if anyone's inbox was a little overwhelmed this week. The wifi in the hotel seems good, so I should be able to post the Law and Marriage epilogue tomorrow, and I'm hoping to have Ginny's chapter of Exhausted polished up later this week. Thank you for all your support! Seriously, all the encouraging reviews really help keep me going.