Hi hi~~

Okay, so I know that we haven't had this talk before but I just really need to just say this and also get opinions here.

The main pairing is SSHP where Harry IS the bottom. NOW, I'm thinking fourth year or so when Harry's physical body is 15 would be a good time to add some lemon into this recipe but technically he's still hella underage. And yes, it does make Snape a little tiny bit of a pedophile because while Death is older than the world we stand on, he is in the body of a young teen. (Like spiritually I guess Death's the pedophile but I'm like 80% sure this only applies for physical bodies only)

I am aware and ok with this and hopefully you guys agree too but I figured pre warning would be nice. I would hate for people to bash about that sort of thing here.

Anyway,

Enjoy~~

The one where Death has his first Christmas in Hogwarts and a ton of gift wrap was harmed in the writing of this chapter. Also there's a mirror, but it isn't used to admire anyone's stunning good looks.

Christmas break was pretty good. Harry actually found himself quite busy the days coming up to Christmas Day. It was nice. There was afternoon tea with Filch and Mrs Norris. He read new books in the library while Ron tried valiantly to study... something, the kid refused to show Harry what he was researching but it was obvious he wasn't very good at it. Sometimes Harry would throw out random dry comments on the redhead's frustration that would've made Malfoy proud, until Ron inevitably gives up and they go outside to fly. Percy, being one of the few prefects still there had nightly rounds almost every other day, which the boy would tend to gallantly volunteer his company to, spending the hours around the castle talking about their day and their families.

Fred and George and Peeves had this 'war' going on for a solid week that subsided entirely of very embarrassing but admittedly creative pranks that went from classic magicked water balloons that held more potions than innocent water in them to more complex hijinks which resulted in dog-sized spiders covered in goose feathers and the second floor halls being covered with lime flavoured jelly. And somehow Harry had ended up as their official 'judge' in all of this nonsense because apparently it was his fault. Which, let it be stated for the record, was completely false. He did not start that mess. And whoever says otherwise are dirty liars.

It didn't matter though because as a judge Harry finds himself always present during these 'events', so he's pretty much been in the middle of every metaphorical and literal train wreck to happen in the castle since the beginning, much to the child's chagrin. Most of the students still in school have managed to catch on to the pattern and pretty much would flee if Harry's so much as in the same room as them. Cowards. Ron, bless him, still hasn't connected the dots and just complains when he gets pelted with rubber ducks or painted orange. Though the green eyed entity isn't completely sure the redhead even realises they're are any dots to connect in the first place.

Of course after a week filled with mayhem it was Harry's civic duty to put his foot down. And if that happened to be the day that those morons covered him in salted maple syrup when he had just gotten out of the shower minutes ago, well, who was going to argue?

His hair smelt like cheap candy for two whole days despite all the cleaning charms and showers. Neither the twins nor the poltergeist was seen during that time. Which was smart of the trio. Because if they met Harry will be pretty sure they'll be never seen again.

Sometimes, when he was bored of playing with the children, the boy would go out to the Forbidden Forest to greet the centaurs. Firenze happily showed him to their village and he was greeted with a reverent welcome. Their were a small population and a dying one if the lack of females were any indication but Christmas was coming and Harry chose not to comment on their dilemma for now. Instead he distracted them by regaling everyone with stories of the stars and of the gods that no constellation alone can tell.

And when he didn't feel like going outside to converse with the centaurs, Harry would actively seek out a teacher to chat to. Maybe even learn a few things. Like transfiguring and moulding stuff with glass, or charming stuff to move. He's absolutely terrible at those things but the child enjoys the feeling of being challenged.

So yeah, it wasn't exactly what his fellow entities would have called a particularly fun holiday but Harry was pretty content all things considered. He had hot chocolate in his hands that always filled up, a variety of mortals to entertain him as he pleases and the satisfaction of watching snow outside whilst he was warm and snuggled cozily in thick blankets. And that's good enough for him.

Hi brother,

It's Life, your favourite counterpart? It's my turn to write and just gotta say bro you are doing like okay at the whole living thing.

B+ for creativity. Your Life points were lowered because you didn't do anything that interesting for the first decade of your life. I mean really? You are literally wasting your life. Go visit some other worlds, go visit a different universe, heck go to Las Vegas I am not joking do it first chance you get.

Honestly I don't even understand why you're even in school, granted it's a magic school with some seriously cool stuff but it's still a school. Like ugh. How could you even stay still in those walls, I would absolutely die by now.

Of course that's why we're opposites I guess, anyway I'm keeping this brief little brother but I am missing you and so's everyone else blah, blah, blah. Your paperwork is so cramping my style but I'm doing okay with the delegating bit. I only made six of your reapers cry today so it's a huge improvement.

See ya,

Life

Actual Christmas was admittedly not that exciting. Oh it was Harry's first proper Chrismassy Christmas, fitted with greens and reds and.. Things. Harry was not much of a Christmas person. That was more of a Time or Space holiday than anything, because whatever the universe, this particular holiday always seemed to be 'timeless'. Chaos just liked the holiday for watching disorganised people shop for gifts the day before. Actually, Chaos likes a lot of holidays for that reason. And to screw with people. But that's just standard of a good time in general when it comes to the representation of all things chaotic anyway.

It was quite flattering to receive his own gifts though. Ones that have been gift wrapped too. That's a pretty new concept. As Harry, he didn't get gifts that weren't food or borrowed items from his cousins. As Death, well, he got gifts, obviously, but they weren't exactly gift wrapped optional- unless you count when Love sent over that inhumanely, insanely good looking dark elf prince that had a bow on his… No that probably didn't count.

It was quite the the Thanksgiving treat though. He both got a lot and did a lot of giving and said numerous thanks to various things, if you know what he means. Ah yes. That was a good day.

But again, not gift wrapped.

Harry looked down at his various colourful presents and something akin to absolute delight seem to tingle in his chest as the boy saw that they were all addressed to him. It wasn't like the distantly pleased buzz he would get as an entity, this was vivid and intense and so simplistically human. The Slytherin dorms were empty so Harry wasted no time to satisfy his twitching fingers and carefully began unwrapping the closest gift, which quickly became a brightly coloured paper massacre.

"Well... I see you've got your gifts."

Harry's head snapped up to see his highly amused House Head leaning at the entrance of the dorm bedrooms, then back at the ripped up patterning in his hands before looking back up bashfully. "I.. Uh.. Merry Christmas?" He offered to the smirking professor, failing absolutely terribly in trying to subtly brush off the tattered remains of paper on his lap. How on this earth did he manage to make such a mess with only one box already?

Snape made a soft huffing sound that the green eyed boy had quickly acquainted with as the closest thing the older man had at laughter so far. He's adamant he'll make the potions master laugh properly one of these days. Preferably not at his expense though. Like currently so. Once again pale hands try and brush the paper off his black cotton pajama bottoms. Alas the gift wrap stubbornly clung on. This must be its revenge. Cruel, embarrassing revenge.

The professor made the huffing sound again. "Merry Christmas Potter." He said, walking towards the smaller male and sitting on the bed opposite as easily as if he owns it. He's in black robes this early morning, Harry's almost tempted to say it's his usual teaching robes but no, he's pretty sure that's just what the man's sleeping wear looks like. Jesus. Even he didn't wear that much black.

Okay no he did but that wasn't the point here.

Not completely sure what to do in this social situation Harry glanced at the professor sitting perfectly upright on the bed before opening the box. "I've never had a real present before." He confessed quietly. The older man made a thoughtful noise and when he flicked his eyes upward for a second the raven haired child thought he saw a pained expression on the other's face, but that was quickly shoved away in favour of greedily soaking up the image of the first in many gifts to come.

There were assortments of candy and chocolate from his not as close friends and upperclassmen he's chatted with occasionally. Snape ended up accepting a sugar quill, two cauldron cakes and some sort of disturbingly bright green lollipop under Harry's ceaseless insistence. He got a copy of Frankenstein from Hermione, something which amused him to no end. He's always been quite fond of the work for obvious reasons. There was even an emerald green hand-knitted jumper from the Weasely matriarch which Harry immediately put on, which resulted in a few snide comments from the older man. Ron himself had, according to the card, piggybacked on the Weasley twins' gift of experimental pranks, a gift which was half confiscated the moment the dour professor realized what the present was exactly and who gave them away. Harry managed to snatch away a good amount of the strange assortment of trinkets (which he really hoped didn't activate upon contact or anything like that) but he's going to have to definitely apologise to the two red headed pranksters if any future pranks in the potions room don't work.

With a sheepish smile the boy pushed back the already opened gifts away from them, slipping the items in his arms into an empty box, something that wasn't lost on the potions master if the narrowing of his eyes were anything to go by. "Give it to me Potter." He demanded softly but no less stern.

"But professor, it's my gift." Harry did not whine.

"It's a menace to education."

"Well that's a little harsh.."

Snape lifted up one of the twins' assortment of pranks, it looked like a really small lava lamp to be perfectly honest. "This-" long fingers shook the thing gently to emphasize what he was talking about like it wasn't already obvious, "Was used last year to cover the classroom with sticky paint. In every corner and crevice."

Harry winced, he should probably never open any presents from his redheaded friends in front of a Head of House again. Except for Percy. Who got him a perfectly respectable if slightly tattered scarf of dark red. It was very kind, especially since it was obviously out of his own pocket, hopefully the brand new self inking quill and 'muggle' wristwatch he sent back was just as well received.

"Well it's not like I'm the type of student to actually use them." And okay, maybe Harry was whining a little bit and making little grabby motions at Snape, "Come on Professor, please?"

Snape looked amused again at the pleading expression on the child's face but shifted the various prank gifts behind his back nonetheless. "While that may be true Potter, your friends are less likely to strike any sort of trust in my heart." Then with a pause, Snape eyed Harry with mock suspicion, "Not to mention your ability to stand your ground against them."

Hurry huffed, "One, rude. And two, my friends aren't all unruly like you imply. Hermione's good."

"She set me on fire." Snape deadpanned. Harry winced again.

"You knew?"

"She wasn't being exactly secretive with her intentions Potter. Even if I didn't see it coming half the school did."

"What about Draco then? He's your godson."

"And as my godson I know full well how the boy can make trouble when he wants to."

"Well how about-"

"Don't even get me started on the youngest Weasley."

Harry gave the older man a look. "-I was going to say Percy." The child finished. "Honestly even I know Ron would be the first person to use them given the chance."

Snape looked thoughtful before shaking his head and smirking. "Doesn't count, the Weasley prefect's not even in your year."

"You never said that!"

"The point still stands. And I'm letting you keep the ones you've managed to snatch aren't I?" The professor raised a challenging brow. Harry grumbled but reluctantly moved on to the next colourfully wrapped presents. He knew a useless effort when he saw one.

Draco's gift was unsurprisingly elaborate, all the way down to the wrapping which was pale blue covered in silver snowflakes that actually moved depending on how you shook the box. "Do you have a gift from Draco?" Harry asked curiously. He was feeling a bit guilty right now at opening all these gifts in front of the professor while the man just sat there and watched. Logically the entity-child knew that Snape had at least one present from him but it's kind of like trying to eat at a restaurant while ignoring the homeless man staring at you through the window. Like he wasn't feeling that much guilt over it, but that didn't stop him feeling uncomfortable.

Snape didn't answer the question but instead just took out his own present from the Malfoy's, unshrinking it from an unseen pocket in his night robes. Either the man thrived on the growing uncomfortableness of the situation or he really did forget to bring his own gifts out and partake in the festivities. Yeah. Obviously the first option, the bastard.

"It's from Lucius and his wife Narcissa." The professor explained as Harry took in the smaller, less brightly coloured gift in Snape's lap. "From the note attached, my godson had been too busy trying to find the perfect gift for you." Snape said with a wry smile, "Apparently Lucius ended up helping midway through because Draco wished to one-up all the Weasley's gifts combined."

Harry laughed. "That does sounds like Draco." He looked down at the large box and began opening it whilst Snape did the same. "Huh, now I'm worried what he's going to think of the gift I gave him now."

"Unlike your ability to say no, I do have faith in your gift picking skills." The professor drawled as he unveiled a glittering golden engraved set of measuring scales. Now Harry was actually seriously worrying about how his homemade gift to the Malfoy heir would be received.

"I don't think you should say that when you haven't even looked at my gift to you yet." He pointed out.

Snape paused in his careful examination of the scales to look up at Harry with something akin to fondness. "That's true, but I'm inclined to believe it anyway."

Harry makes a soft 'oh' sound and ducks his head to try and hide the pale pink flush rising up from his cheeks. Instead of trying to answer that head on the boy deflects by picking up his blonde friends gift and admiring it in the soft morning light. "Well I hope your not expecting anything like this or you're going to be sorely disappointed."

The small unmelting carving of Hogwarts castle fitted with it's own little patch of Forbidden forest and a molten silver Black Lake glittered.

"I don't enjoy useless trinkets." The potions master snorted as he looked derisively at the shining, shimmering statue. A icy tentacle from the sliver depths came up to wave at the boy. Obviously Snape had no idea what he was talking about, this is a brilliant present.

"You know if my gift to you ends up being jewelry or whatever else you define as a 'useless trinket' we are both going to be very embarrassed now aren't we?"

"I think I can get by." Snape replied with a raised brow.

They continued opening presents after that, well, it was more Harry opening presents and Snape commenting and criticizing them as they went along, but it was still a very enjoyable time for both parties. The Diggory boy sent him a pillow with bright yellow flowers which was not as entertaining to Harry as it was to Snape. Nott gave him a book on basic Wizarding history. Blaise's gift consisted of coloured pencils that changed shade at will and a simple sketchbook. There was even a present from the wretched child Zacharias Smith, some gaudy ugly golden badger that was charmed to shine brightly like a disco ball. Harry took one look at and dropped it like garbage. Snape must've agreed with the action because he pointed his wand at it, muttered something under his breath and turned it into a mouse.

"I am not feeding Hedwig that." The green eyed boy declared. "She is a beautiful bird and I refuse to taint her with the trash that comes from Smith's spoilt grubby little hands."

"Your hands are smaller than his." Snape commented because he could, earning the older man a squawk of indignation. "You're relationship with the Smith boy is surprising."

"Why would you say that? I despise self entitled untalented brats who think they're better because of some ancestor they're probably not even that directly related to." Harry scowled as he nudged the rather clingy transfigured rodent away from his pyjama pants. "Is it so wrong that there are people I dislike?"

"Not.. wrong." Snape said slowly, "Just unusual." Which, fair, Harry has been pretty amiable to most of the student population of Hogwarts sans Zacharias and his idiot groupies, but it wasn't like he's declared a full out family war with them like the Weasleys and Malfoys apparently had.

"Yes, well, you try talking to Smith on a semi-regular basis and you'll want to strangle his neck too." He sniffed, not missing the twist of a smile on the professor's face.

"If he's anything like in Potions then I'm inclined to have to agree with you there." Snape acquiesced easily, "Now hurry up Potter, you've still got a few more gifts to unwrap and breakfast will start in an hour."

Some of the presents were just plain predictable, books from the Ravenclaws, more edible treats and generalized gifts from people who just wanted to send something to the Boy Who Lived, an occult book from Piers and Dudley which was always a good laugh, and the Dursley's themselves-

"Is.. Is that a wrinkled £5 note?" Snape asks, unable to hide his surprise and disdain at the poor excuse for a gift. Harry grinned sardonically, "Would you believe that this is the nicest thing I've gotten from them? I should keep this for posterity honestly." He muses right as he begins smouldering the crunched up money with a small flame he sprouted from his fingertips.

"But," The professor for once seemed to be at a loss for words, like his whole worldview had shifted a little bit and he didn't know what to do with the new scenery, "They're your guardians."

"Well they aren't very good ones," Green eyes rolled, it wasn't like he was hiding what was happening to him in Surrey, people always liked to assume. "There was no bending over backwards to accommodate my needs or anything, not that Uncle Vernon could if he wanted to."

Snape didn't say anything to that so Harry continued opening his Christmas gifts. Even the professors and staff seemed to have given him a few, he's rather glad he got presents for literally everyone he knew. Obvious upsides to having a body that had a rich heritage and the 'soul' of someone who can woo goblins with its presence is that you barely need to worry about the cost of an island much less a few nice items. Flitwick's gift was an enchanted dreamcatcher that made dreams much more vivid and ensured less chances of any nightmares. Filch had made some sort of good luck charm that smelt like lavender. Sprout's present, true to her name, was a small pot of seedlings and a note about how excited she was that he'll be moving into her house next. And McGonagall had given him a Nimbus 2000 which made Harry grin and Snape scowl simultaneously.

"You will not join the Gryffindor Quidditch team Potter." The professor ordered in a manner that was only half serious.

"But professor," Harry teased, "They bought me a broom, I am pretty sure I'm obligated now to repay them with my body."

Snape coughed, a faint dusting of red on the tips of his ears before looking at Harry straight in the eyes and replying, "And if my gift ends up to be better? What would you obligated to do for me?"

The younger boy flushed at the undertones of the potions master's joke but gave a wry confident smirk either way. "Well it depends professor, but I think I could be convinced."

"It's the one wrapped in dark green." Snape pointed out. There were two gifts left, the green one that Harry now knew was Snape's and a plain brown parcel. With a jittery anticipation the boy reached out to claim and unwrap the present. Midway through he couldn't help but glance up to see black eyes watching him intently.

"Why don't we open presents at the same time?" He offers, the older of the pair nods in agreement and un-shrinks a light grey box with a light green ribboning.

"Fine."

It doesn't take long for both of them to take out their respected items, even with Snape's penchant for delicately opening paper like it was made of crushed diamonds or something. Harry looked at the small bottle of see through but sludgy liquid with more than a little confusion, there seemed to be a handwritten manual accompanied by the filled glass container but looked toward the potions master for clarity anyway.

"It's a work in progress but I thought you would appreciate it." The professor coughed and gave a tentative smile which looked very nice on the man but still explained nothing. Inwardly sighing at the fact he had to read a manual so early in the morning, Harry picked it up and began skimming through the first page. He got four sentences in before it clicked.

Harry gazed up at Snape with awe and a healthy dose of pleasing warmth, "You made a potion for me."

"It's more of a liquid coating." Snape tried to dismiss, "Theoretically your muggle machinations should work in moderate magical densities when essentially covered."

"You didn't have to though," Childlike fingers held the bottle with much more delicacy now, the professor may skim over the details but Harry's not naive enough to not know how much work that must've gone through the whole process. He was extremely flattered. "This, it's, now I'm truly nervous in how you'll take my gift to you." The boy sputtered.

"Don't be obtuse boy. It's called a gift for a reason," Snape sneered, lifting the lid of the unopened box in his hands. "Honestly, you would think I've brought you the moon."

Harry's already owned a few hundred thousand moons, hell, he's hung a few of them himself and honestly he felt those were way less interesting than what the humans implied. Nothing like this. This thought and effort and time and sheer creativity all mixed in one tiny bottle and a few inked characters. Snape can have his moons. This was much better.

Before he can tell the professor this, there's a soft noise of surprise which took precedence of the boy's attention. Snape held up a pair of sleek white gloves which had faint black markings of scales circling the edges but other than that it was a simple design. Feeling the need to both preen and explain at the curious expression holding Snape's face captive Harry gently put down his present and shifted himself to a more comfortable position.

"They're for potion making. It's thin and soft enough so your sense of touch isn't compromised but I requested cooling charms so you can handle hot cauldrons and resistance to other various things." Snape easily slipped the gloves on his long, slim fingers and Harry tried very hard not to think about the image, especially in reversed.

So he has a thing. You don't live as long as he without a few surprising self-discoveries. Sue him.

Snape looked a little surprised as he surveyed the fit of the piece of clothing. "It's perfect." He murmured and Harry grinned, stupidly proud at the compliment.

"Honestly, you would think I brought the moon." The boy mimicked playfully getting himself a rough ruffling on his head.

"Insolent boy." Snape chided but there was no heat to it, "Now come on, you've got one more to unwrap and then you can go skip off to talk with those redheaded menaces about food or pranks or mocking the Malfoys or something equally incessant."

"You have a very specific image of the Weasleys Professor."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Harry paused. "Fair enough." He shrugged before giving a pointed look. "But it's still rude."

Snape raised a brow as one corner or his lips curled. "Just open it Potter."

"Sure thing Professor Snape." The boy grinned. Taking the parcel in his hands the raven haired child turned it around to see if he could discern the identity of the gift giver. He furrowed his brows a bit when he couldn't find any note. Maybe it was just inside the wrapping?

Slowly ripping the brown paper away, something silvery grey fell almost fluidly like water onto the ground, lying in an elegant heap of shimmering folds. Harry had to give a double take at the fallen item. He recognised that fabric.

He used to own that fabric.

"It can't be.." Harry snapped his head up, eyes glowing brightly with shock and for once, suspicion.

"You know what this is?" The child asked, not able to fully prevent his voice going a little high pitched and funny at the end. Snape didn't seem to notice, too busy staring at the light silver cloth. Harry didn't blame him. He was having trouble not keeping his eyes on it either. Though the displeasure aimed at it from the professor was a little unwarranted.

"It's your father's." Snape answered through gritted teeth, like admitting it took actual physical pain.

And wait. What?

"Father's?"

"Yes, it was quite the- favoured item of James Potter." Oh. Right. Harry had a sire. Obviously. He'd almost forgotten about that. "It's a-"

"-Invisibility Cloak." Harry finished for the potions master as he picked up the cloth and draped it over him in one quick, graceful movement, hiding his body in the process. The boy had to say, it was felt good to have something of his own back in his hands again.

Though he quickly realised his slip up when the Head of Slytherin looked him strangely and slowly said, "Yes. But how did you know that?"

"I read it in one of my readings?" Harry tried. And then, "Oh look at the time, we should head down like right now professor. I would so hate to be late for Christmas."

Snape still didn't look wholly convinced with what he was selling, but thankfully let it go. Harry was getting way better at this whole social thing now that he was human. The boy looked mournfully at the Deathly Hallow hugging his body, he wished being invisible was an acceptable norm at the dining table but alas, it was not to be.

With a soft sigh he pulled off the Invisibility cloak, trying to ignore the way the fabric instinctively clung to his person and gently folded it, tucking it under his pillow. He'll put it back on tonight.

It turns out they still ended up a good forty minutes early to breakfast, Harry had unfortunately just didn't need much sleep and Snape was either a naturally very early morning person or he had trouble sleeping too. They ended up parting ways when they saw the empty hall, the boy deciding to go toward the Gryffindor tower to see how his redheaded friends were doing and the professor, well, Harry wasn't sure where he went but he went somewhere.

"Merry Christmas!" Was the first thing shouted in the green eyed first year's face once he entered the Gryffindor dorms. As well as a couple of streamers and- never mind that, how on earth do the Weasley twins always know where he is?!

"Oi! Ron c'mon Harry's here!" George shouted behind his shoulder whilst Fred leaned on his other with a sly smirk.

"And look, Harry's got a Weasley sweater too!"

Now that he'd mentioned it, both twins were wearing bright blue sweaters, each with a giant yellow letter corresponding to the beginning of their name knitted on them. Fred slunk over to Harry's side, over exaggeratingly inspecting his green sweater like an art critic checking out a new post-modernist sculpture. "Harry's is better than ours though," He mused, stroking a non-existent beard as he did so. "She obviously made much more of an effort even if you're not family." Fred pouts.

George, never one to be far behind Fred, too had found his way past Harry's personal space bubble and was grinning like a loon. "Fred says that but you know he was the one to insist to mum that you should get a sweater in the first place." The twin cackled as his counterpart turned red and slapped George upside the head possibly a little harder than necessary causing said twin to burst into a string of muffled chuckles.

"Well I wasn't the one to tell her to make it green so it could match his eyes." Fred hissed, turning his brother's face into a similar shade as his own.

"I did not, Percy did!"

"Well I didn't see you exactly disagreeing. In fact, your exact words dear brother of mine-"

There was a lot of hushed mutterings and heavily worded facial expressions that Harry had kind of zoned out of by then. He's not really sure what they were talking about but he's managed to figure out that the twins also helped with the jumper which was very nice of them. And Percy too. Very nice of them indeed. Though the murmurings and such right now were a little less so.

"Mate!" Harry smiled a little gratefully when Ron finally showed up with half a chocolate bar in his mouth and a half opened gift in his arms. "I just opened your gift Harry and I gotta say oh my Merlin, you are the best." He gushed gleefully.

The raven haired boy laughed and the twins had finally stopped whatever teasing they had been doing beforehand to watch on curiously. "Ron it's just a bag of muggle candy bars, it's not a big deal."

"The. Best." Ron stressed. "I've had that Milky way one and I'm pretty sure I didn't see any stars but it was delicious."

Chewing on his chocolates Ron finally noticed what Harry was wearing. "Oh mate, your wearing a Weasley sweater." He pointed out rather obviously.

"And where's yours by the way?" George asked, leaning on Fred's shoulder who was leaning on Harry's head like some strange unstable tower. "Yeah Ron," Fred added, their grins back on their faces again, "Come on and get it, they're so cozy and warm."

"But I hate maroon." Ron moaned half heartedly but went to go get it anyway. Harry didn't really blame the reluctance, maroon didn't seem to be a very good colour for any of the Weasley's really.

"What's all this noise then?"

The curly haired Weasley prefect peered his head into the room disapprovingly before looking surprised at seeing Harry there with the rest of them. Percy had clearly been in the middle of opening presents as well because he too was carrying a similar lumpy orange sweater in his arms. It seems all the Weasleys were late sleepers no exceptions then.

"C'mon Percy, get it on, we're all wearing our jumpers!" Fred beckoned, George cackled, "Yeah, you've even got the 'P' for prefect on it! Perfect prefect Percy."

The oldest Weasley brother began spluttering out various disagreements but it was too late, like snakes the twins had already found their prey and before Harry even knew it, Percy was practically pinned side by side by two identical cheeky smirks as they wrestled their older brother into the offending item of clothing. The resulting scuffle was enough to draw out Ron, wearing an admittedly abhorrent coloured sweater.

"Does this happen often?" Harry asked, unsure whether he should keep watching or take pity on the prefect and step in. Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Are you kidding? This is nothing."

After breakfast Harry and the Weasleys spent most of the afternoon in the midst of a furious snowball fight which even Percy had joined, not to mention most of the other students still left behind on the school grounds. Making snowballs turned out much harder than the boy had originally thought, throwing them even harder. Ron was in near hysterics the first few times Harry had finally gotten a decent looking ball of snow, only for it to disintegrate upon itself the moment it was flung into the air.

His redheaded friend practically asked for a handful of snow shoved down his shirt. So, it really was all on Ron really.

Obviously the child howled at the icy cold while Harry giggled at the look of shock on the other's face and it was probably around then when the snowball fight turned into a snowball war.

At some point some cheating sixth year pulled out his wand and started magically pelting snowballs at anyone wishing five feet of his person. The twins had began colouring snow to confuse people and Percy looked like he was deeply regretting most of his life's decisions. Ron and Harry had decided to overcome their previous differences and team up, Ron with his impressive aiming and Harry with his wandless magic made them pretty amazing. The green eyed child wasn't sure how one could possibly win in such an activity but he was pretty sure that they were pretty darn close to it.

Though luckily, before the whole afternoon could escalate into anything too violent, the call for dinner was made and hunger on christmas was apparently not something to be ignored for everyone was soon rushing inside, faces pink from the cold and frost in their hair. Harry did not blame them at all once he saw the banquet spread out on the tables at dinner time.

Fat roasted turkeys that were practically sweating in meat juices, platters of buttery potatoes cooked in various ways, freshly cooked bread rolls every few feet along the tables… Let's just say Harry was immensely grateful that human senses like taste are so much more enhanced compared to his usual body.

Then there was the dessert. Lord almighty, Harry was never the biggest fan of Christmas puddings but he thinks he could make many exceptions to the rule as he takes his first bite and practically melts at the sweet silken texture. Ron who had been eating like a starving man had not even slowed down when the puddings arrived, despite the redheaded boy still holding a turkey leg in one hand. It was almost enough to put someone off their appetite. Almost.

Harry looked up at the teacher's table and observed that the professors have been drinking an awful lot going by the reddened face of Hagrid. At one point he's pretty sure the half-giant landed a quick kiss on Professor McGonagall's cheek, who also seemed to be quite drunk because she just giggled and blushed like a teen. Snape was taking a long gulp of whatever alcoholic concoction was in his goblet and just generally nursing his drink while scowling, dare he say, sulking at the edge of the table. The Headmaster didn't seem to have had much alcohol at least, which was good considering that it would've been a pretty terrible school if every adult tonight got smashed on school grounds. However, the old wizard did have on a flowered bonnet which struck respect and awe in absolutely no-one.

By the time dinner was finished every witch, wizard and entity felt too full and sleepy to do much of anything but get ready to fall asleep. Well, except for maybe Percy who last he heard was chasing Fred and George around the castle because the twins took his prefect badge. Harry had trudged back to the dungeons, ready to go have a well deserved nap in his room for one of the last few times before moving to Hufflepuff.

God, that's going to suck. Zacharias Smith's going to be there. Harry's going to be forced to commit painful, painful murder on the boy's face.

Okay not 'forced', he's not into victim blaming but he's definitely not going to feel great about the homicide. Afterwards anyway. Probably. Oh my god he is so going to end up killing the Hufflepuff isn't he?

As soon as he reached his bed, the green eyed entity pulled out his cloak from under the pillows, letting his fingers slip between the delicately fluid texture lovingly. It's strange how he's been reunited with it all these centuries. The child wondered if he'll see his other Hallows, it's not like he was particularly emotionally attached to the items to be perfectly truthful. With the exception of the cloak in his hands which was just a shred of his own favourite travelling cape back then- something designed by Space who had been a little obsessive in dimension altering fashion at the time- the Hallows were essentially some mundane object he picked up by that riverside and imbeded some powers in it.

It's a tad hard to feel connected to something you've literally only owned for less than a minute really. And since the only reason he even made them was to piss off (kill) those brothers of Peverall and find himself a possible master they were kind of useless to him right now other than a simple connection to his original existence. Even then it wasn't worth much.

Thinking about it a bit further, does that mean if he ends up with all three Hallows he'll be his own master? Is Fate trying to say something? Because despite what most people may think, he is not exactly a strong, independent woman that don't need no master to function. No. Uh. Well that didn't make much sense. The point is, a master would anchor him theoretically and that would help quite a bit with his minor 'control issues'.

Pale hands tightened their grip on the invisibility cloak.

So a master would be very preferable, but if he has all three in his possession at the same time then… But wait. The child shaped entity scrunched up his face,- if in this world Harry Potter gained possession of this Hallow, wouldn't that mean there's a chance a Harry Potter in another parallel universe could possibly earn all three of the Hallows? Oh dear, did he just kill off his potential master? But then there should be other Harrys out there. Does he get multiple masters or is there just one Harry James Potter out there who could've been and he'd just took over his body? Shit. He's just going to leave all the details be ironed out by Space and Fate. This was getting way too complicated and meta.

It took a while before Harry finally pulled his attention away from his Deathly Hallow existential crisis to notice the small note that had fallen conveniently by his feet. Picking it up, he could see it was written in a narrow looping handwriting he didn't recognise;

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to You.

The letter was left unsigned. But whoever sent it had definitely put some sort of charm on it because Harry could feel the magic urge him to explore with the cloak. He felt more awake, more aware, and an intense rush at the thought of being to go anywhere again without being seen by anyone. The boy wondered if he should go to Snape and report this, he's pretty sure this is the magical equivalent of drugged candy yet the spell was holding him back, enhancing his possessiveness to the object so Harry would only want to use the cloak by himself.

The boy probably could have just shrugged the compulsion off, it was actually quite a strong bit of spellwork he had to admit but nothing that he would actually struggle too hard with. But Harry had to admit he was curious to this person's end game. So instead of doing the normal thing one should do when realising they've been put under some sort of charm like a sane person, Harry chose to let the spell carry out it's purpose and crept out of the dorms with his cloak on his shoulders. Wandering through the darkened halls, the child noted that he was walking up toward the higher floors of the castle. The fact Hogwarts wasn't doing anything to hinder him meant either she too had some Christmas in her spirit or someone explicitly warned her not to.

Harry had a vague suspicion on who wrote that note.

He finally arrived in what seemed to be an empty classroom. Empty with the exception of one giant mirror standing right in the middle of it. A giant, ornate mirror. With a golden frame and clawed feet. Yeah, he was totally going to miss that if it wasn't in the middle of the room. Good thinking creepy note writer.

There was an inscription carved around the top which, being of an annoyingly petite stature, Harry had to get on tip toes to properly read. It took a few moments before the boy realised it wasn't written in any language he'd known but instead was just written backwards in english.

Harry hummed thoughtfully at the etchings, a mirror that showed your heart's desire was a dangerous sort of thing. Not even he would really want going against him. But the boy had come this far, and it seemed only he should be the one to see what he truly desires so at least there would be no confused voyeurs wondering why his reflection would show like world destruction or something.

It's not something he particularly desires but he is Death, maybe subconsciously that's all he wants, he doesn't truly know. That's what makes the mirror so terrifying.

With a slow, deep breath, Harry takes a step back from the mirror and looks straight at where his reflection should be. But as expected, there was no reflection of his physical self. Instead, there was his original form or at least what he'd first thought to be his previous appearance. He was still tall, lithe to the point of skinny but in a handsome almost prettily ethereal way and his hair was still an untamed mass of shadowy curls that moved like the waves of the sea in the darkest hour of the night. But there were differences when he looked closer; he seemed softer, less bones and angles and fear. The entity before him looked confident and secure and stable. His eyes were glowing green as they are now but even brighter, shining with something that Harry couldn't even understand and he was smiling, such an easy wide, bright smile that looked both awkward and fitting on his face.

And there were people behind him, beside him, all around him. It made Harry's mortal heart speed up and his 'soul' clench at how comfortable that person he had always desired to be fit in like that. There were his fellow entities, laughing and joking like a family, a proper real one and not the makeshift thing they had going on for them where sometimes they had their moments but most other times they stuck with their own domains, loathing their counterparts. And with immortality flowing through their nonexistent veins, most of the time was a very, very long time indeed.

Then there were the mortals he's met and adored, still alive and not just simple souls in his collection or lost in the cycles of reincarnation. From a talking pig he'd once met in ancient Greece to Yzesye, an alien conqueror of nine planets, they were all there conversing like inside the mirror was just one giant party. The most prominent of the mortals he could see at the forefront of the reflection were the people that were still alive now, Ron and Malfoy were arguing about something, Percy and Order seemed to be getting along splendidly while the twins and Chaos were snickering ominously in the corner. Filch and Mrs Norris were giving the stink eye to a sassy red haired orphan child, McGonagall was chatting politely to a faerie queen and Firenze was in the midst of some sort of heart attack in front of Fate.

Snape was surprisingly, right by his side, looking for all intents and purposes rather irritated by such a sheer amount of individuals. His mouth was moving in what Harry imagined to be for snarkily commentating about his displeasure and the person that was meant to be him just threw his head back and laughed. Those green eyes glowed eerily, obviously inhuman but they looked at the potions master with this emotion, emotion he shouldn't have and-

And Harry didn't realise he was trembling, hand on the mirror like if he pushed hard enough he could be that person.

"Shite." He laughed hoarsely, his voice shaking ever so slightly, "This was a bad idea."

He ended up coming back the next night. It was hard not to when your desire was just a few floors away and Harry was so weak. He knew the thing was dangerous.

"Back again Harry?"

Harry pivoted around, darkness inadvertently seeping from his nails before it was quickly pulled back at the sight of the Headmaster of Hogwarts sitting on one of the desks shoved to the wall. Luckily it was dim enough for the old wizard not to have noticed his slip up but still he cursed himself for his carelessness.

"..I didn't see you sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "It is funny how even the invisible can be so nearsighted is it not?"

"Just because no one can see you doesn't mean you couldn't trip over a rock and fall." Harry retorted, the older man's smile grew wider.

"Indeed." He agreed amiably before hopping off the desk and walking toward the boy, "And I see you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." The child murmured, Dumbledore seemed almost surprised that he'd cracked the relatively simple code but nodded anyway.

"Yes, men have wasted away looking at what they found here. Nothing but your deepest most desperate desires filled out before you."

"A family." Harry whispered and the headmaster shot him a sad look before continuing on.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow." Dumbledore looked at the child solemnly, "Harry, you should not go seeking out it anymore. After all it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Which, yeah, was all well and good if it wasn't insanely obvious that the man had effectively led him here to the mirror in the first place. Harry's pretty sure it wasn't for anything particularly malevolent but it wasn't going to win the Headmaster any points in his favour anytime soon either.

"Now why don't you put that admirable cloak on and head back to bed Mr Potter?"

Harry cocked his head but complied. "Professor, what do you see in the mirror then?"

Dumbledore gave him a small smile, "Me? While I see myself holding a pair of thick wooden socks." It was an obvious lie, the look Dumbledore gave the artefact was much to sad for just plain old socks but Harry kept quiet anyway. "One can never have too many good socks after all, another Christmas gone by without getting a single pair too." The headmaster sighed. "People always insist on giving me books."

The green eyed child gave an obligatory chuckle at the obvious deflection before shrugging on his cloak and turning to leave. But of course, not without a last, "Oh? And thank you for this admirable cloak professor!"