Special special thanks to Belle A. Lestrange for helping me out with the chapter and kaze senju the wolfwarriorgirl and LittleNightDragon for their awesome ideas. Done with school (for the most part). Still have to worry about summer classes but with summer being here, that means I get to focus on writing. So yea :)


Chapter 21: Tis the Season to be…

Damn it!

That was one thought bouncing throughout Harry's head, set on a continuous loop like a song. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

He searched his bookshelves. Nothing. He searched through his trunk. Zip. His dresser and desk, checking every drawer twice, digging through piles of clothes, stacks of notes, old assignments, and messages from friends. Zilch.

He couldn't believe it. He didn't even know how it was possible, but the map was gone. The Marauders' Map that was his dad's greatest treasure, a gift from the Weasley twins, was actually gone.

The last time he used it was Wednesday night; leaving Ron's dorm later than he expected and needing to take quick, teacher-free pathways to make it back to his room. Once he was back, he kept the map locked away in his trunk. Except now, two days later as he was finishing up his packing for the holidays, the map was gone.

"Goddamn stinking Merlin!" Harry cursed as he rampaged through his room, turning up empty. He paused and looked over at Draco's side that was still neat. He hadn't checked there yet. Maybe he could-

"Don't even think about it, Potter!"

So much for that plan. Biting back a curse, Harry's eyes drifted over to Draco who was in the middle of the doorway, bags packed and loaded. His arms were crossed against his chest, his frown speaking of impatience, a look that had been on his face for the past ten minutes.

"I know how much that map means to you, Potter, but we need to go. The last carriage to the platform leaves in five minutes."

"But-"

"You're leaving this room two ways: willingly by my side or I change you into a beetle and keep you locked in a jar the entire train ride back. Either way, you're coming with me." Harry wondered whether Draco practiced that threatening look in the mirror or if he took tips from Severus.

As much as he hated to admit it, Draco had a point. If they missed the train, they were screwed. With a defeated groan, Harry grabbed his bag and followed Draco out the door. Outside in the halls, stretching from the Slytherin common room, the staircases, and the Great Hall excitement rang in the air. Friends were hurrying over to hug each other goodbye, promising to write everyday. Others were huddled together, exchanging their plans for the holidays.

Remus was by the door, a smile brightening his worn-out face as he caught Harry's attention. Breaking away from his friends, Harry made his way over to hug him goodbye.

"You're looking well." Remus said.

"So are you." Harry replied. There was some color back in the man's cheeks, the circles underneath his eyes not quite as dark as before. "I don't suppose you'll be making an appearance at the Manor?"

Remus's smile didn't waver. "Persephone will to drop off your present. As for me? I'm afraid that I will have to politely decline."

Again. It was the same answer Remus had been giving for the past eight years. He may not butt heads with the Malfoys, keeping things civil between them, but Harry wouldn't go out on a limb to say they were friends.

Remus took notice of Harry's frown and ruffled his hair, gently nudging Harry back to his group.

Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for the boys at the station, wrapped in their fine cloaks, power and allure oozing from them. A vast contrast to the Weasleys who were standing a few feet away in hand-stitched sweaters and multi-layers. Molly waved over to Harry, who returned the gesture with a smile. Unlike her and Mr. Weasley who welcomed their kids back with a rain of kisses and hugs, his uncle and aunt stood still, not touching the boys. According to uncle, such displays weren't proper for purebloods.

"Boys," Lucius said. "You're looking well. Quite an improvement from our last visit." Humor danced across his eyes.

Draco subconsciously rubbed his arm, as if it was still tied in a cast, and elbowed Harry for failing to cover up his laughter.

"Shall we go?" Narcissa asked.

Looking into those ice-blue eyes reminded Harry of the questions he had for her. "Yes."

Narcissa offered her arm and Harry accepted, leading her to their carriage.


Christmas day commence with loud holiday cheer. The boys were up at the crack of dawn, racing each other downstairs. The house-elves outdid themselves with breakfast, cooking up quite a feast of French toast, omelets, and cinnamon rolls. After breakfast, the family including Uncle Severus who sneered at a poor house-elf for suggesting he switch his porridge for a cinnamon bun directed themselves to the living room. Within ten minutes, wrapping paper littered the living room floor as they tore through their presents.

Harry received books, clothes, a new broom and a broom-care kit from Lucius, and another Weasley sweater from Molly, who's been making him one for the past two years. According to Ron, holiday sweaters were a Weasley tradition. Since she met Harry, touched by his and Ron's friendship, Molly decided to include him in that tradition, sending him a new, handmade sweater every Christmas. This year was the same as the others: nice and soft, colored a dark jade-green with a golden 'H' stitched on the front.

Draco's nose crinkled as if he smelled something foul. "How the hell you can allow something so offensive to touch your skin is beyond me."

"Simple," Harry threw a grin at him as he tugged the sweater over his nightshirt. "It's cozy."

Draco scoffed with an eye-roll.

"Maybe I should have her make you one."

The look in Draco's eyes could be summed up in one phase: over my dead body.

"Personally, I'm a firm believer of quality over quantity," Narcissa said, taking a sip of her tea. "But then again everyone has their preferences."

There was something in her voice that made Harry look up, the spark glinting in her eyes reminding him of the questions he had and the answers she might be able to provide.

After the presents were opened and the wrapping paper was disposed of, Harry followed her into the library. Narcissa barely seemed surprise that she had an extra shadow. She gestured for him to take a seat beside her by the fireplace and smiled.

"How have you been, my dear?" she asked. "From what I've been hearing third year has been interesting for you two."

You don't know the half of it. Dementors, a break-in at the school, Draco. His cheeks warmed at the last thought as his mind played back how close they were to each other in the snowbank, how a simple comforting exploded into something consuming. "Things have been…well, definitely not dull. That's for sure."

"And Draco? How is he?"

Once Harry saw his opening, he lunged. "That's actually what I want to talk to you about, Aunt Cissa."

Interest sparked in her eyes.

"For the past few months, Draco has been acting, well, different."

"Oh?" A slim, dark brow arched questioningly.

Harry nodded. "Lately he's been more…aggressive, lack for a better word. He seems more irritated, throwing glares at anyone who gets too close. Even to our friends." Particularly at Blaise and Hermione. "He's become like my shadow or something. I know part of the reason is because of Sirius, but the other half I don't-I just don't know. And…"

The arched brow rose slightly higher. "Yes?"

"Sometimes," Harry was tempted to keep the words inside, realizing how crazy it sounded. "During certain moments his eyes would glow. Like seriously glow. One second they're plain gray, the next they turn to silver."

He was sure he would be called crazy, that she'd said it was one big misunderstanding. Or that so much reading was causing his imagination to go wild. Instead Narcissa simply stared at him, as if he was a specimen that needed to be studied, taking in his words. Just when Harry leaned over to wake her from her trance, Narcissa blinked, a smile breaking across her face.

"I see." she said.

This time it was Harry's turn to stare.

"Draco is going through, well, let's just say a metamorphosis. Same as you, but different. More thorough. Along the way, changes will come about. Some more…detectable than others."

Harry blinked.

"Some of those changes may come across as unusual to you, perhaps even frightening but keep in mind that it's not permanent. At the end of every metamorphosis are beautiful results. And who knows? It may bring the two of you closer."

Harry blinked again, loss for words.

"Could you do me a favor, darling? Would you mind passing this-" She snapped her fingers and a book from the top shelf in the back flew across the room, landing on Harry's lap. It was thick, almost the same size as their DADA books. "To Draco? I do so myself but there are last-minute arrangements I need to tend to."

Baffled by their conversation and frustrated by the lack of answers, Harry nodded. He rose from his seat, but before he made his way to the door, Narcissa held him in place.

"Things may be confusing now, my dear, but I can assure you they will work out. In time."

Harry nodded. She smiled gently at him and kissed his cheek.

"It is wonderful to have you boys back."

Despite his frustration, Harry managed to pull a small smile for her and pecked her cheek before he left. He barely took ten steps before he was plowed down, the book slipping through his fingers, lost in the midst of fallen china, tea, and sugar.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Pain throbbing from his head to his lower back, Harry slowly sat up and looked up at Dobby. The house-elf looked like he was stuck between the choices of banging his head against the wall for the mess he made or disappearing from sight before Uncle caught him.

"Dobby is so so so sorry, Master Harry." The house-elf stammered. "Dobby caused such a mess. Dobby was careless. Dobby-"

"It's fine." Harry insisted. "I'm fine, Dobby." Well mostly fine. Some of the tea spilt on his pants, and his head was throbbing, but those could easily be fixed. "No harm done."

"You mean it?" Tears filled the elf's eyes. "Oh, Master Harry, bless you. Dobby does not deserve such kindness-"

Harry placed a hand on the elf's shoulder and squeezed it gently to stop his rant. "It's alright." He glanced around the spilled tea that was staining the carpet. He hoped for Dobby's sake Aunt Cissa didn't leave the library anytime soon. "You may want to clean up before someone else sees."

It dawned to the house-elf that the floor was still covered in his mess. "Oh yes, yes. Right away. Dobby will take care of it."

The tiny creature ran down the hall, only coming back a minute later to make the mess vanish with a snap of his fingers before running off again.

Thankfully the book wasn't damaged; otherwise Aunt Cissa would have Dobby's head. It occurred to Harry, given the book's aged pages and the oak-like material of the cover; it was probably from the collection of books she gave Draco to read over the semester. The cover was white this time but still had the strange cover material that looked like it was carved from an oak tree, the yellowed pages filled with foreign words he couldn't decrypt. On the next page was a picture of the winged-man.

It was the same one they watched from the train, shirtless, hair white, wings sprouting from his back. Only this time there was another person with him-a woman that served as his opposite, dark hair to his light, tanned skin to his pale complexion. The two were standing at opposite sides, facing each other, eyes locked in a tight hold. In the next second, the two were down on their knees, entangled in each other. The dark-haired woman's head resting on the winged-man's shoulder, he clutched onto her waist, as if she was about to be taken away any second, his large wings cloaked around them. The image started over again, this time with the dark-haired woman as a man, his body broader, angles less curvy. Despite the gender-change, the intimacy between the two remained. The gaze between the two was just as powerful, the hold they had on each other when they were kneeling just as firm.

Harry watched the scene set itself again to the beginning. One minute the dark-haired person was a woman, the next she was a he. Throughout it all, the winged-man held them tight, as if they were a precious thing that needed to be protected at all cost.

Underneath the picture was a small caption written in the same odd language. When Harry's fingers inched closer to it, blue light burst from the page, blinding him for a moment. When the brightness dimmed, Harry blinked his eyes a few times to clear them.

The strange language was still there but underneath the words in a darker, smaller text was the English translation.

As different as the sun and the moon, equal in power like fire and water, are two: one blessed with the gene, the other its' half.

Its half?


Time flew by fast. One second it was morning, and they were exchanging presents, stuffing their faces with food. The next it was nighttime and the living room was changed into a regal ballroom.

The Malfoy Manor never failed to take his breath away during the Christmas ball. Aunt Cissa always managed to outdo herself with the decorum. White, gold, and silver were the theme colors of the night. The food was delicious from the roasted chicken and honey-glazed ham that was served at dinner, the appetizers the house-elves carried in their golden trays as they walked over the place, and the dessert. Cakes, cream-puffs, and of course the magnificent chocolate fountain. Music flowed like a steady stream from the orchestra, from the strings of the violins to the soft blows on the flutes. The dancefloor was a swirl of silk and color as dancers led their partners through every song, each step perfectly in sync and each move tastefully done.

"Stop fidgeting, young man or I'll use my cane on you."

The string of words ran Harry's train of thought off its course. He blinked, then turned over to Draco who was standing with him by the sidelines. He didn't even realize he was fidgeting until he noticed he was playing with his tie. Sheepishly, he dropped it.

"Or what?" Harry asked. "You'll do it?"

"Care to test me?" Draco smirked, taking a step closer to him.

Harry's cheeks burnt. He tried to swallow to shake the heat burning his skin, but it did little to help him.

"Draco?" The boys broke apart and turned over to the front to see Nataliya Zabini approach them. Blaise's mother was a goddess, sharing her son's dark beauty that bewitched countless wizards and witches, her black gown clinging onto her body like a second skin. Harry never forgot the time in second year when Ron saw her picture and said she was hot. Blaise repaid the comment with a stinging hex to his arse.

She waved her hand over at the white grand piano. "It's been so long since I heard you play. Why not treat us to a song?"

"I think that's a splendid idea." Narcissa stepped forward, a vision in white and gold, her hair curled and pinned.

"Er…" Harry had to bit his lip to keep in his laughter, though it was hard to do so when one was witnessing a flustered Draco.

"And of course Harry shall join you. You boys can make it into a duet."

Harry's chuckles came to an abrupt halt. This time he was the flustered one while Draco was (poorly) attempting to hold his chuckles in.

"I completely agree." Blaise slung his arm around their necks, grinning at them. "Hearing you two sing gives me such joy."

The boys glowered at him.

"Maybe you can treat us to a rendition of that sweet Muggle song you played for us a few years back. What's it called again? Oh yes. Baby, it's cold outside."

"Shut it, Zabini!"

More people gathered around them, watching, waiting. Instinct was screaming at Harry to run, but rationality that sounded a lot like Hermione and his uncle made him stay put. More than that, it commanded his body to take Draco's lead, heading over to the piano. Draco sat down at the stool while Harry stood in front of it.

You ready? Draco silently asked.

Not exactly. A smile cracked on Draco's face as if he could sense Harry's anxiety. But I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

Draco nodded once. He flipped open the cover and his fingers ran through the keys before they were positioned. Soft music rang from the keys, and soon Harry started to recognize the melody.

Lullay, Thou tiny little Child
Bye-bye, lulle, lullay;
Lullay, Thou tiny little Child,
Bye-bye, lulle, lullay.

It was one thing to sing in private for friends just for fun or to sing for Draco when he needed some cheering up. It was quite another though to sing in public, reminding himself to stand straight, chin up, eyes steady and calm while nerves rattled inside his body like caged animals.

Thankfully he had Draco who managed to keep him steady.

Oh sisters two, how may we do
To preserve this day?
This poor Youngling for whom we sing
Bye-bye, lulle, lullay.

It was almost like they were in a waltz, positions shifting between who was leading and who was following, but the steps never faltered. Harry tried to match his tone to the slow, haunting melody Draco was playing. Draco followed Harry's lead whenever he offered his vocals as backup for the chorus.

Herod, the King, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day
His soldiers in their strength and might,
All children young to slay.

Their voices were in perfect harmony, brisk and smooth with gentle and pure.

Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say,
For at thy parting nor say nor sing
Bye-bye, lulle, lullay.

And when the stars ingather do,
In their far venture stay,
Then smile as dreaming, Little One,
Bye-bye, lulle, lullay.

The applause was nearly thunderous as the last note fluttered away, their voices dropping to a low hum until they faded away. Some people's eyes were wet with tears, but only a few were brave enough to wipe them away. The grin on Narcissa's face was as bright as the lights gleaming from the chandelier, and while Lucius's facial expression appeared unmoved, his eyes were lit with pride.

"Glad to see you finally recovered from your puberty-crack, Potter." Draco teased as they accepted their applause.

"Shut it, Malfoy."

Daphne Greengrass broke away from the crowd and approached them. She was dressed in a dark green, the darkest color Harry had seen for the night other than the suits the men were wearing, and her golden hair was curled, swaying gently as if it was touched by a light wind. "You two did an amazing job."

"Thanks Daphne."

She smiled at Harry, but as her eyes shifted over to Draco, her smile brightened as did the look in her eyes. "The orchestra is setting up again. Care to dance?"

Harry blinked, then did so again, surprised. His surprise morphed into shock as Draco accepted the invitation, taking the girl's arm and walking her over to the dancefloor, missing the questioning look swirling in Harry's eyes.

The music started again and the dancers provided entertainment for the observers, moving together in perfect sync as if they were one. Draco and Daphne were in the center of it, their blond hair gleaming white from the light, smiling at each other so fondly as if they were long-lost friends finally reunited, holding each other close like they were making up for lost time.

A feeling cracked against Harry's chest like a nail being pounded into a wall, digging deep. It made no sense to feel like this. They've danced with other people at balls before. There was no rule saying they had to be by each other's side all the time. Plus, he liked Daphne. Granted she spent more time with Pansy than she did with them, but she was a nice girl. Definitely smart and pretty.

So why did it feel like nails were being hammered against his chest as he watched her dance with Draco, exchanging smiles and laughs?

Harry turned on his heel and ventured over to the buffet table that was set on the other side of the room, far away from the dancefloor. He helped himself to two apple turnovers and was about to have a third when a snarl erupted next to his ear.

Pansy appeared by his side, the crystal beads from her silver dress sparkling bright, her pretty face fixed into an ugly sneer as she glanced across the room. Harry followed that glare, discovering that the focus of her dark look was Theo who was chuckling at whatever the attractive brunette by his left was saying to him.

"Pansy?" No reply. Her one-sided glaring match was taking most of her attention. "Pansy?" Still nothing. "Pansy!"

"What?" she blinked, then turned over to Harry, regarding him in surprise as if he was the one who snuck up on her. "Oh sorry, darling. I didn't see you."

"I can see why." Harry nodded towards Theo who was still laughing at the girl's joke.

A snarl vibrated through her clenched teeth. "If Nott is going to drool over some skank, then he could at least have the decency to be discreet about it."

Harry really didn't see laughing the same thing as drooling but decided to keep that opinion to himself, knowing he would be the new target of those glaring eyes if he said anything.

Anger was rolling off Pansy's body in waves. The glass she held in her hand was slowly breaking, cracks slashing across the cup, the gaps widening.

To keep a murder from taking place and needing something to keep his mind off Draco, Harry held out his hand to her. "Care for a dance?"

Pansy looked over at Harry, then glanced at Theo, who was still laughing. When her eyes returned to Harry, a smirk curved her mouth. "Love to."

Taking Harry's hand, she practically yanked him over to the dancefloor. She laid her hand on his shoulder while he settled his arm around her waist. As he leaned in close to her, a light, flowery scent tickled his nose. It wasn't like lilies or roses. It was something else. Something different but he had a feeling that he came across it before.

"As pleased as I am to see you're not moping about, the same cannot be said about the company you choose to keep." He glared directly at Remus, who only smiled.

The smoke billowing from the rim carried a light, flowery scent. Harry wasn't sure how he knew the fragrance, but felt a wave of déjà vu-there was something familiar about it.

"Pansy, what is that smell?" he asked.

"What? Oh, you mean the perfume." She rolled her eyes. "A present from my grandmother. Personally not a fan. Too light for my taste." She raised an arched brow at him. "I have to say I'm surprised you're able to smell it. I practically had to use almost the whole bottle before we left."

Harry wondered how much Severus had to use to make the potion. "What's it called?"

"Aconitum. Supposedly, it's meant to protect the wearer from evil."

Aconitum? The name didn't ring any bells, but it didn't make the vague familiar feeling go away. It had to be an ingredient Severus talked to them about. During Potions class or maybe even before Harry and Draco came to Hogwarts, back when they were learning the basics about magic and were getting private lessons from him.

A sigh escaped Pansy's lips. Harry saw that her attention was focused on somewhere else, on the boy she could barely walk by without cutting him down with insults.

"You look really pretty, Pansy."

Her lips curved into a soft smile that barely kept itself together. She inclined her head in a grateful, weak nod. "Thanks darling."

As grateful as she was for the comment, it wasn't enough. Harry wished he could say something to her, to make her feel better. However as Harry cast another look at his best friend, seeing him so content with Daphne, he could say that he emphasized with Pansy, feeling the sharp pang slit across his chest like a dagger.


"The ball was interesting, wouldn't you say?" Draco asked later on that night as they got ready for bed. He was finishing up the buttons on his night-shirt.

Harry nodded weakly, his stomach stuffed from so much food, legs weak from so much dancing. As wonderful as balls were, they were also draining.

This ball was no different, living up to Draco's words of being interesting. Blaise tried to make a move at Pansy's older sister, resulting in both witches nearly hexing the boy. Thanks to a dare from Goyle, Crabbe got his tongue stuck on the angel-shaped ice sculpture, only managing to break free after Pansy shoved Theo against it. Draco spent most of the night with Daphne, leading her through dance after dance. He even walked her to the door at the end of the night.

"So what says you about this royal court this year, King Draco?"

Draco's eyes sparkled. "Grand, just the way I expected. Sadly I didn't see any potential members."

"What about Lady Daphne? She seemed to make quite the impression on you." The words escaped Harry's lips before he even realized what he was saying.

Draco stared blankly at him, just as stunned. Unlike Harry though, Draco recovered quickly, his surprise melting away as a smirk curved his face. "Jealous, Potter?"

"You wish." Harry snapped. The quick deliverance of his words caused that smirk to widen.

Resisting the urge to use a pillow to knock that smug look off his face, Harry focused on changing into his nightwear.

"I suppose she has some potential. Good breeding. Not bad looks. Can definitely hold a conversation." Harry jumped as he felt Draco's arms entwine around his waist. "But she isn't the one who I want by my side."

Harry ducked his head to hide the smile tugging at his lips. A different sort of pang went through his chest, dripped in molten heat, causing a strange fluttering to rattle his stomach. "You're hilarious."

"Thank you." Draco winked and headed into the bathroom.

Harry was about to go to bed until he heard a knock at the window. He opened the window and Hedwig flew in, carrying a late, broom-shaped Christmas gift in her talons, a blue envelope clamped in her mouth.

"What'cha got there, girl?"

Hedwig blinked at him and dropped the letter on Harry's lap. He broke the seal and took out the letter. On blue paper written in a sloppy, cursive handwriting was a small message.

Think this might come in handy.

What? Harry dropped the letter and tore through the wrapping paper of the gift, his mouth dropping.

It was a firebolt, an actual, top of the line firebolt that just hit stores after the pre-Christmas rush. The handle polished ebony, the twigs made of an equal amount of birch and hazel that would help with ascending and turning, the metal goblin-made ironwork which according to the store clerk increased stability for the rider. AKA, it was the ultimate broom, even more magnificent than the new brooms Uncle Lucius got for them.

The question was who sent it.

"What was that?" Draco called.

"Nothing." Harry said, eyes glued on the gift.

No one outside of Hogwarts knew about the horrible match, and there were few friends he knew who had to the money to pay for it.

Realization hit Harry like a punch.

Sirius.

Those interested in the song, it's called The Conventry Carol. Very beautiful. Highly recommend you listen to the Hayley Westerna verison. She has an amazing voice. Those wanting to know more about the boys' royalty talk, check out my story, A Court fit for a Malfoy