The week up until Christmas was mostly filled with talking to Draco (when he wasn't marking essays). Since they didn't have any new classes, it was hard to keep up the pretense that they only talked to brag that they were better than the other. Their conversations slowly morphed into more normal things, like the Ministry of Magic and how its leadership seemed somewhat competent for once, and professional Quidditch leagues, and how Neville may be returning to his post as Herbology professor the next year, after having spent two years researching plants in the Amazon.

Poor Pomona had had to come out of retirement when he left for lack of wizards knowledgeable on herbology and passionate enough to want to teach it.

Honestly, that was most of the reason Draco and Harry stuck together even when they weren't competing: many of the professors had taught them, and it was strange to be on the same level as them. Having Neville around would be nice. Then maybe Harry would have more than one person at Hogwarts to hang out with.

He had visited Hagrid a few times for tea in his hut, but after the initial greeting and catching up the second day, there hadn't been much to talk about. As much as he liked Hagrid, there were only so many rock cakes he could pretend to eat.

He occasionally firecalled Ron and Hermione, but he hardly thought that counted— they were both so busy with work that they'd only talked maybe three times since Harry had started at Hogwarts. Hermione had disapproved of his and Draco's childish competition, but allowed that it was better than them actually fighting all the time. At least they were acting civil with each other.

Ron, on the other hand, had found it absolutely hilarious, saying that there was no way Potions could ever be better than Defence, even disregarding the fact that 'Malfoy's a complete git'. That had made Harry laugh, but he had decided it wouldn't be wise to tell Draco that, as he certainly wouldn't agree.

~*~

When Christmas Day arrived, he awoke to a giant package from Mrs. Weasley at the foot of his bed. She had, true to form, included a hand-knitted jumper and an array of sweets, including several mince pies. Harry decided it was worth it to make himself sick by eating four for breakfast.

Hermione and Ron had sent him a book on cursed object identification, and one on curse-breaking (clearly Hermione's idea), as well as a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey (Ron's contribution). Ginny had sent him a leather journal, which he thought was nice, all things considered (he had sent her a pretty scarf, unsure if he should send anything at all).

Most of the professors had left for the holidays, but the ones who remained had planned to exchange gifts in the staffroom before the feast. Harry hadn't been sure what to get them, and that was when he'd discovered his dilemma. He realised he had no idea what to do about Draco. They weren't friends — he was pretty sure Draco wouldn't consider him a friend either — but they did talk quite a bit. Their relationship was one formed from lack of other options, and barely-this-side-of-friendly competition. Draco wasn't on the same level as the rest of the staff, but Harry wasn't sure if he should get him something more or not. He wasn't even sure what he was going to get the rest of the staff.

Eventually, he decided that a nice eagle feather quill would always be a safe bet, and he simply added some chocolate for Draco.

He'd sent a package of sweets for Hagrid by owl, along with some dog treats for the puppy he'd gotten after Fang died. All in all, Harry was exhausted by Christmas, and he really hoped he hadn't forgotten anyone important. He'd already sent presents to the Weasleys, Teddy, and Andromeda, but the Holidays always gave him the feeling that he was forgetting something.

Now that he was an adult, Christmas was more of a chore. A monotonous list of people he had to find things for. Honestly, he found the whole thing rather boring, although he still appreciated his gifts and the thought behind them.

~*~

The exchange in the staff room was a bit strange and formal, but it was nice enough. Only Harry, Draco, Filius, Poppy, and Septima Vector were present. Filius gave everyone bourbon chocolates that gave off tiny colourful fireworks when bitten, and Poppy gave a restorative draught. Septima (whom Harry did not know very well at all, as he had never taken her class whilst in school and she kept mostly to herself) gave out tiny hummingbird figurines that whistled on the hour. Draco opted for personalised stationery, which could be switched with the wave of a wand from personal to officially titled.

At the feast, Harry and Draco pulled wizard crackers together, and when a particularly ridiculous hat popped out, Draco picked it up and placed it on Harry's head, leaning over to speak quietly.

"Thank you for the chocolate earlier."

"Pity, Malfoy. It was the least I could do, considering the students vastly prefer my teaching to yours."

Draco tipped his head back and laughed.

They both drank more deeply.

~*~

Harry went to bed drunk that night, but more happy and comfortable than he'd felt in a long, long time.