10th December

To Pansy,

I suppose you don't deserve a 'dear', after all you were horrible to me on the train. Horrible! I hope you feel really guilty. I didn't even get to say goodbye to you, even though you're a bitch and you're allying yourself with Blaise just to get back at me.

What did I ever do to you? Hmm? Other then regale you with my witty company for the majority of my young life, humouring your lack of academic intelligence by keeping you in school and out of remedial classes. I bet Longbottom takes remedial classes in remedial everything. It's a shame there isn't a class to teach him how to be a better pureblood, the boy practically reeks shame.

You just wait and see. You'll miss my running commentary on the devoid and colourless this holiday. You will miss me sorely because I have decided just now in a moment of intellectual (and completely adult) clarity that I am no longer talking to you. That's right. I'm cutting you off. I shan't be contacting you because of your basest treachery, and you should just know that you brought it on yourself.

Unless you choose to redeem our friendship by making it up to me in an extravagant and thoughtful way, you may consider our acquaintance over!

So, apart from this one letter letting you know now, and a letter I'm sending with your Christmas present, I will be sending you no more letters.

In your deep and sincere loneliness you should think about what you've done and mentally catalogue the megalith of favours you will owe me as a result of your grievous misdemeanour.

Yours Conditionally,

Draco Malfoy

P.S. Tell your Mother my Mother says hello and that the gardenia's are doing wonderfully.

P.P.S. I'm still not talking to you.

December 10

To My Dearest Darlingest Sexiest Most Shaggable Draco,

Sorry about that. Ron was looking over my shoulder. Had to get him away somehow. Anyway, how are you? Did you get home safely?

It's a shame our goodbye was so quick. I'd have liked to have dragged it out some more. Your mum seems nice, and your dad is still a prat. But your mum seems nice. Did they let you keep my scarf? If it burns under mysterious circumstances, don't worry, I'll understand.

Ron's family are all rather upset that they didn't get to meet you. The twins especially have expressed their disappointment, but I suspect it's probably for the best that you didn't meet them. Hermione said she caught them whispering something about using Veela feathers in one of their novelty love potions. I swear, half the time their shop sounds amazing and the other half it sounds like a nightmare.

We've all settled in now and Mrs Weasley tells us tomorrow will be spent putting up Christmas decorations. I know you've probably had yours up since the first, traditional to a 'T'.

You know, I think I miss you already. Ron and Hermione are mooning around now like the golden couple, being eerily affectionate all the time. Actually, I think they've always been this affectionate, I just didn't notice it because I could be affectionate with you.

I hope you're alright and not too bored. If you come back to school with a year's worth of essays completed in advance then I'll know you're bored. I'll send you stuff to read and to do ok? Fun stuff (like my potions homework heh heh heh) no seriously, fun stuff.

I know, first on the list of fun stuff. Would you like to compile a list of snarky comments to use when Ron gets uppity? I know I would, especially now.

Look love, I've got to go. Ron's running his mouth off about us and I need to smack some sense into him.

I'll write again tomorrow. Goodnight. Stay warm. I'll be thinking of you.

Harry

P.S. Enclosed is a copy of the epic farewell speech I wanted to give you at the train station. Feel free to recite it in front of your parents as I would have done, complete with accents and fake-one-person-snogging movements at opportune moments.

P.P.S. Try not to eat all your chocolate frogs at once, though knowing you, you will. Don't worry, it's cute.

Blaise,

He says he's not talking to me because I'm on your side. What should I do now? If you cost me Draco I swear to Salazar himself that I will castrate you, friend or no.

Pansy

15th December

Dear Theo,

How's life? How's Yvette? Have you sold all the crup puppies yet, or are there still some left in the litter?

Cutting past the pleasantries now, Theo, I'm BORED! I'm ridiculously ludicrously bored. It's the ennui, oh the ennui! Are you absolutely certain that you can't come over? I'll lend you one of my Healers to look after your Father. God knows I'd love to be shot of them. You can have them all if you want.

Even for just a few hours, please Theo, please!

If you drop everything and say yes we can talk more at my house.

And you better say yes.

Yours Emphatically,

Draco Malfoy

To Draco,

You aren't talking to me? That's nice. Well, have a charming holiday anyway.

Love from,

Pansy

Xoxo

December 17

To My Beautiful Draco,

I miss you. I have decided, I miss you. It's nice to spend time with family and friends outside of Hogwarts and all that, but it isn't the same really, knowing that you aren't here with me.

It's weird sleeping alone at night. Apparently I have become ridiculously clingy and have taken to cuddling pillows. Go figure. And I have never wanked so much before in MY LIFE! How about you? Do you miss me?

I'm glad Theo stopped by the other day, even if it was only a Floo call. You needed the company. After that story about hexing the healers I figured you were getting a bit agitated.

If you can go outside you should. The snow is marvellous and incredibly soft. Being cooped up inside can't be doing you any good. Now I know it's not dignified or "What a Malfoy does" but having a bit of a play in the snow is not such a bad idea either. You can make snowmen, snow angels (You know you're already my angel love), perhaps you can throw snowballs at the Healers rather than stinging hexes?

Today we had a massive snowball fight with everyone in the house. It was wicked. The twins charmed their snowballs so basically no one was safe. Hermione made a sort of igloo fort, but then she wouldn't let us hide there and she pelted us with snow, laughing like a maniac. You're right. My friends are weird.

I tried to make a Draco snowman but Ron knocked it over. I miss you.

Harry

18th December

To Mr Malfoy,

It has come to the attention of the firm that several of our Healers have been treated with undue hostility by your charge and our patient, Draco. We have already received several complaints of spontaneous hexing and malicious jinxes and on behalf of the firm we request that these attacks cease.

We understand that this is a trying time for your son, but if our efforts to assist him are met with such resistance it may be more effective for his treatment to be continued with fewer medi-wizards attending him, as many Healers have professed a desire to pull out of the assignment.

Please notify us as soon as possible if you wish to consider a different course of treatment for your son.

Yours Sincerely,

Messrs Hodgkins, Tennern and Sooth

Associates in Professional Healing and Medicine

"HOW TO TAME YOUR VEELA"

The new bestselling novel by Ignatius P Dacribade. Rated five stars out of five by the Daily Prophet's Daily Book Revue.

This groundbreaking novel follows the exploits of this exciting professor during his first eventful forays into the realms of wizarding science, focusing on his particularly harrowing ordeals with the Veela of Bulgaria. When faced with the risk of revolting violence oppressing his findings, Professor Ignatius stayed firm and triumphed over the malignant race. In addition to the thrilling tales of his early discoveries, Dacribade has included his many personal tips on identifying, training and eventually taming your Veela for potential Veela owners with an interest in the topic. This reviewer would recommend "How To Tame Your Veela" to anyone with a wayward Veela under their wing, as it is an excellent guide to maintaining a suitable relationship with the flighty Untouchables. A must read.

20th December

Pansy,

Oh God, it's horrible. I have literally been reduced to hiding up in the Owlery, it's that bad. I said I hated the feathered beasts before. I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it. They're my only cover from the behemoth that is my new healer.

I managed to send all the other medi-wizards running scared back to their firm. Score one for me, victory dancing and all that. Unfortunately, both the firm and my Father haven't given up yet, and they sent back Hilda.

Hilda, eurgh, doesn't that automatically just make you shudder? The woman is Crabbe and Goyle stuffed into a Millicent shaped package. But HUGE!

I could hex the medi-wizards to get away from a check-up, but the hex would probably bounce off her skin. She's probably got troll blood.

Even worse, she introduced herself in an incredibly uncouth way, insisting on an atrocious attempt at intimidation (note that it didn't work, I am in no way intimidated) and threatened to snap my wings! I can quote her word for word. "Your little tricks won't work on me Veela, and if you even think of trying them, I'll snap those pretty little wings clean off." I mean, who does she think she is? A Mexican wrestler?

She's a madwoman! I know I said I wouldn't talk to you, but I forgive you. I forgive you already. Please, just come over here and hold the fort with me until I can convince Father to get rid of her. She's been standing in front of his study with her wand out, waiting for me, the bitch.

We have to conspire. Be my plotting buddy again. We have a troll to fell.

Please say you'll come.

Draco

P.S. Please? PLEAAAASSSEE!

Blaise,

He wants me back, just like you said he would. Was Hilda your doing? Anyway, I'm going over. I'll deflect conversation away from Pottertalk as best I can. And I'm doing this for me, not for you.

Pansy

21 December

To Mr Lucius Malfoy,

I quit.

Yours Sincerely,

Hilda Viscovic

21st December

To Ms Hilda Viscovic,

I have been informed of the way you treated my son. You don't quit. You're fired.

Yours Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

December 21

Hey love,

Are you alright? Your last reply was rather brief. It was a sentence, but I suppose you've been busy. You've been busy for three days, but it's fine, I can write enough for both of us.

How is the new Healer coming along. Have you broken he/she/it in yet? Did you play in the snow?

I miss you. We got a letter from Fleur and Bill the other day saying they might be able to visit for Christmas. It's been difficult for them to stay in the country so we're hoping they can make it safely. Ginny's being annoying, but I'll just have to deal with it.

Mrs Weasley wants to meet you. She keeps dropping oh-so-subtle hints about seeing you at her dinner table, and she leaves this copy of the Prophet, you know the one with our picture on it, on top of the coffee table all the time, face up and blatantly obvious. It makes me miss you. I walk past that coffee table and I remember what it feels like to kiss you, and how amazing it is that you kiss me back.

I've been thinking about you so much. Ron says it's annoying because you're basically all I talk about, but I don't care. I miss you so much it's driving me crazy. When I see you again I'm pretty sure that I'll just grab onto you and pull you into this great hug, a hug from which you won't be leaving for at least a week, maybe two. I never thought being apart like this would hurt. There's like a physical itch that I can't get rid of (It's probably mental too, Hermione says). Ron says I'm Veela struck, but he's an idiot for thinking that's why I'm feeling this. I miss you, and I'd give just about anything now to hear your voice, even if it's just you complaining about your healers.

If there's anything you want from me, anything in particular I can send you, you just let me know right away. Did you like the chocolates I sent you?

I miss you. Write back soon, ok?

Yours,

Harry

Blaise,

I'm going over again. I think he's lonely. There was little mention of Pottertalk but he did have a little mini rant about the indignity of having to play in the snow alone when Potter has a whole nest of Weasley's playing with him, and that it's fine to send him detailed accounts of it because it's not like it makes him jealous. Sounds like him, right? He did put on a little sulky face though, and in his room he's got a whole pile of sappy letters written by Potter next to his bed and when he thought I wasn't looking he'd look at the letters with a sort of happy/sad expression.

We got rid of his Healer. Are you sure you didn't send her though? She's just about ugly enough to make Draco crack.

He looked healthy enough to me but there were times when I could see his magic getting out of control and he'd look a little faint. Narcissa told me that he'd be fine though, and that physically he's in perfect condition and that there's no need to worry.

Theo will be there today. His dad was well enough to snap at him and kick him out of the house for his little "gentlemen's meeting". Theo's on Potter's side though, so how should I tread? I'm only asking you because it feels like walking on eggshells, operating within this contrived 'plan' of yours. Would it be viable with 'the plan' for me to continue bashing Potter while Theo's there? I'm pretty sure Theo would defend him, the daft git.

Write back asap. And are you sending Draco a Christmas present this year? Yes or no?

Pansy

Xoxo

Lucius,

The Parkinson girl is coming over today, as is Nott's son. I thought you should be informed in a way that does not cut into your beauty sleep. Don't get snappy with the children. Draco's had little company but ours all holiday.

Oh, and I've told the house elves to keep all liquor locked away today, so as to not tempt the children. That means unfortunately there will be no Irish coffee this morning for you.

Love you dear.

If you're good today I'll be giving you a reward.

Love,

Your Cissa

Xxx

Blaise,

Sadly, we're back to square one. Draco and Potter are all 'the happiest little couple' again. All day he waffled on about Potter sending letters and Potter sending chocolate and Potter sending flowers and scarves and erotic literature. Well, he didn't actually say Potter sent him erotic literature, that was Theo's assumption when following the line of questioning regarding the letters, but Draco turned beet red and Theo asked to read it. I tried bitching about Potter a little but Theo just shot me down and Draco yelled at me for eating one of his 'Potter chocolates'.

I asked about Draco's health again, but he was all shifty and vague with his reply. He's got rid of the full time healers and now only has a check up once a day. I asked Narcissa though, and apparently he's been fainting. Magical overload, so says the healers. All his extra pent-up Veela magic goes to his head and he passes out.

No one's been using the skin-contact treatment to vent out the magic, mainly because the first time a healer tried it Draco freaked and had him sacked for molesting him. Apparently it's easy for the healers to get carried away because they aren't Occlumens. That's rather unfortunate, as the only Occlumens I know apart from you, me, and to a lesser extent, Theo and Granger, is Professor Snape and can you imagine sharing skin contact with him?

I brought you up in conversation and Draco considers you a traitor. He bitched about you ridiculing his Veela nature when he can't help what he is, but he did say that he preferred you as a friend rather than an enemy. What mostly bothers him is that you're hanging out with Daphne and that you've turned the whole house against him by making fun of him. I would suggest some bridge re-building if I were you.

Three days til Christmas. You better make up your mind about that present.

Pansy

Xoxo

Hey beautiful,

You're amazing you know that? You're so cheeky, I nearly fell out of my seat when I read your last letter. What do I think about when I'm wanking? You is the short answer, but I think I'll detail the latest fantasy for you to read, as it's only fair for you to be enjoying this too.

Oh, and I put a privacy charm on this letter so only you could read it. I can't risk you leaving this somewhere for your parents or a house elf to come across. God only knows how awkward it would be if your mum read it. Your dad already suspects I'm defiling you six ways til Sunday, if his latest howler is anything to go by, so I guess I'm past redemption there.

Right, leaving all talk about your parents aside, I do believe I have something dirty to tell you.

My favourite fantasy right now is a bit jolly (tis the season) and it involves a lot of red. I hope you'll forgive me for that.

We're both sitting at the kitchen table. It's late and we've come downstairs for a little Christmas late night snack. We're both wearing red Santa hats and festive jumpers (although you've abstained from the reindeer motif so we're unfortunately not a matching set) We're sharing a plate of Christmas pudding and custard and I'm feeding it to you.

You're licking your lips and moaning with every bite and my hand slips. The custard spills out over your lips and trails down your chin. Instead of wiping it away you just leave it there, and it turns me on so much I'm pushing down on my erection, trying not to embarrass myself. You notice and do that wicked smirk you do, and you slide forward, the custard still on your chin, and say "You seem to be having trouble there Harry, let me fix that for you."

You unzip my trousers and pull out my cock, stroking it gently. You pause, look up at me and run your tongue around the edges of your mouth, licking at the custard. "Delicious" you say, and you run a finger up your chin, wiping the custard off your face, and you smooth the custard onto my cock, licking your lips again. You look so beautiful, your skin is glowing and you just look hungry.

You drop to the floor and lick the custard off my cock, sucking, blowing, kissing, making hungry slurping noises. The custard's all gone by now, but you just keep going and I'm about to come. You look up at me, just before I do and your eyes are this dazzling shade of silver, and that tips me over the edge. I come in your mouth and you swallow all of it, still sucking greedily like the sugary dessert was not enough. When you're finally done you pull away with that odd 'pop' noise and you sit up, as casual as anything on the bench next to me.

I look elated and dishevelled. You look pristine and wonderful, despite the small drop of come on the edge of your lips. You realise it's there, wipe it off with your index finger and put the finger in your mouth, sucking it with a satisfied hum. You look at me and wink, and then you say "I've always liked custard" and I roll my eyes and we laugh.

Alright, so it's not the most eloquent bit of written porn. It sounds much better in my head. In my head it's incredibly hot. I have jerked off to it four times though. I guess that shows how much I miss you.

I know there was no sex in that fantasy, but the weird thing is that in most of my fantasies, we don't even need to have sex. There's this one fantasy where I'm just holding you so tightly, just to feel your skin against mine, to feel you in my arms as something tangible. That's not to say the sex fantasies aren't good, they're explosively good. But I don't just dream about sex (contrary to your popular belief) I dream about you.

I miss you. You'll open your Christmas present in two days. I saw the ones you sent me under the tree. I really hope you'll like it, and if you do then I can buy you loads more presents, just because you stay by me. And if you don't like your present, it just gives me an excuse to buy you some new ones.

This holiday is too long without you. I'll be dreaming of you tonight.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry

To Mr Lucius Malfoy,

It has come to the attention of the ministry that there is an unregistered Veela living in residence in Malfoy Manor. This is a serious matter for the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, and as such we request said Veela's presence at the ministry for a concurrent re-bonding and registry.

I hope this will not be an inconvenience for you. If you bring him in before the 25th then it will not be necessary to send a team out to collect him.

Yours Sincerely,

Terence Stopko

Head of the Office for the Registry and Bonding of Veela in Britain

Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures

Lucius,

I have a task for you to prove your loyalty.

I will summon you for a meeting shortly.

LV

Dumbledore,

I have been called for a meeting with the Dark Lord. He wishes to summon me tonight and present me with a task. I will inform you as quickly as I am able. In my absence, see that Draco and Narcissa are looked after.

Lucius Malfoy

25th December

Dear Harry,

I loved your present. It is by far the best thing I have received this year, and that is including the two new racing brooms Father gave me and the additional heft of clothing for my wardrobe from Mother. I have a pair of teal robes that would go nicely with your beautiful present.

I had a good Christmas. Lunch was excellent. Sumptuous. The house elves really outdid themselves. We didn't have any visitors or extended family around this year because of my 'unfortunate condition' but that made for a nicer Christmas. No caustic grannies or deranged aunts pinching my cheeks and patronising me.

I'm glad you liked your presents too. I had trouble deciding on just one so I thought I'd get you all of them. It was no trouble at all, so don't you start with your misplaced Gryffindor chivalry and try to pay me back. It is a gift. A G-I-F-T.

I got a few embarrassing presents from Theo that I will most likely have to incinerate, and I got a rather nice new set of scales for my potions set. The scales are crystal, hardly the sort one would find on the average market, but they don't make mistakes. 100% accuracy, which is marvellous for some of the more advanced potions.

Surprisingly, Blaise sent me a present. It was an enchanted snow globe that played a memory from before we were fighting. It was a rather nice gift, everything considered.

Mother fussed over your gift of course. She is quite keen to invite you to dinner at this point, though Father still thinks you're befouling his son and your purpose in life is to plague him with your continued presence.

Speaking of your continued presence, I don't know if I can top your last letter. Maybe in a day or two when I can think on it in private. And I know that you miss me, and unless there was a present that I haven't yet unwrapped containing a portkey to you, I don't think there's anything I can do.

I miss you too, and I've been thinking about you probably as much as you have been thinking of me (although from what I've heard of you, such a feat seems difficult. How do you function in daily life thinking like that all the time?) and I've been sleeping with your scarf wrapped around my pillow because it has your scent on it.

Mother's calling for me, so I'll send you this letter as is. Erotic literature is later to come I'm afraid.

Your ramblings about the happiest Weasel Christmas seem delightful, but I suppose it doesn't matter as long as you're happy.

Write me back soon. I think I can hear my social life dying.

Draco

Draco looked up from his finished letter, checking the calligraphy to ensure every word was perfect. Smiling slightly to himself he folded the parchment and set it down on his writing desk, moving to the door to answer his mother's calls.

"Draco? Draco."

"Yes Mother, I'm in here." Draco replied, his voice an obedient drawl. Guessing that his presence was required for baby-photo-reminiscing or something equally as tedious, Draco trudged as slowly as possible down the corridor and was surprised by his Mother's frantic appearance.

Usually, if she wanted him for something she would wait for him in the lounge, as casual as can be, reclining elegantly on a chaise. It was odd to see her dressed in her thickest outdoors cloak, hood up and wand in hand, searching him out.

"Mother, what's –"

"Draco, grab your wand quickly. We have to leave. I have to get you out of here now."

"Leave? But why?" Draco protested, uncertain and wary of his mother's intent.

Evidently his questioning was taking far too long. "Accio Draco's wand and cloak." The items flew into his mother's waiting hands and she immediately pressed them onto Draco, buttoning up his cloak rapidly and pulling the hood up over his face.

"Too long. They'll be here soon. The Floo. Come on now, hurry."

"But Mother, who will be here soon? I don't understand." Draco sulked, trying to fix his hair where the cloak fell on it as his mother chivvied him to the Floo room.

"Death Eaters. You have to hurry. We've arranged a safe place for you. I'm guessing they'd be waiting by now. The elves will pack your things." Narcissa fretted, tugging Draco's hood further forward to obscure his face.

"Wait, but why are we leaving. What do they want?" Draco questioned stubbornly, digging his heels into the carpet until he could receive some answers.

Narcissa looked at him, her expression pained yet adoring. "You darling. They want you."

"But why -?" Draco stammered, his surroundings a blur as the panic manifested in his magic, adding to his confusion and making him dizzy.

"There will be time to discuss this later dove." Narcissa placed a quick kiss on Draco's forehead, then threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire. "Come along."

Draco took the arm his mother offered him, winding around it to steady himself from the dizziness he felt, knowing he would be to lightheaded to Floo properly on his own. He stepped with his mother into the fire and could hear the sound of alerted wards reacting behind him.

Grasping her son firmly by the arm, Narcissa spared one last look for her immaculate Floo lounge before staring straight into the fire and stating clearly in her eloquent voice.

"Ministry of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

They disappeared in a flame of green.