Chapter 13

"You know, if you would have listened to me last night when I told you to start packing, all of this could have been avoided." Draco gestures grandly toward Harry, who is currently standing on top of his trunk, glaring down at it as if the force of his gaze will be enough to make it snap shut on its own accord.

"Shut it, Malfoy." Harry seethes after deeming his staring contest with the trunk a lost cause. Instead of admitting defeat, Harry decides to return to his previous tactic, which involves him jumping up and down on the trunk's top while muttering profanities that are definitely unbecoming of a twelve-year-old boy. What can he say? He's lived an interesting life. It's only natural that he's amassed such an advanced vocabulary.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. All students who are to be leaving Hogwarts for the Christmas Holidays are supposed to be on the Hogwarts express and ready to embark in less than thirty minutes. Draco, Harry, Blaise, and Theo were going to wake up, get breakfast, and arrive on the platform with at least ten minutes to spare. Sounds like a good plan, right? Well, apparently, they'd forgotten to take into account Harry's innate ability to blow even the best of plans into oblivion. That, and they somehow managed to forget Harry's fondness for procrastination. And so, here they are. Waiting on Harry to at least try to be a functioning member of society. You know, now that I think about it, this scenario seems oddly familiar.

Draco had sent Blaise and Theo off to the platform ten minutes ago, stating, "This is Harry we're talking about. Merlin only knows how long it will take for him to get his shit together." Once they realized the truth of Draco's words, they quickly departed, sending a quiet "good luck" Draco's way as they exit. They earn themselves a rather rude and unbecoming hand gesture from the raven-haired boy, who had somehow managed to hear them over his futile struggling.

Draco suddenly directs his attention back to Harry as the dark-haired boy in question lets out a particularly strangled grunt. A resounding thud quickly follows, and Draco is relieved to see that Harry has finally succeeded in closing his trunk. Harry is kneeling on top of the case, leaning over the side, his hands firmly pressed against the latches. His position is utterly ridiculous, and Draco finds it impossible to suppress his laughter. However, when he notices a pile of clothes crumpled up in the corner, his chuckling abruptly halts. He resists the urge to groan, which takes every ounce of pure-blood composure he has, and fixes his lips up into a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat.

"Harry, may I direct your attention to the corner?" Draco snarks, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the floor.

"What do you…" Harry trails off, squinting his eyes as he attempts to discern Draco's meaning.

"I think you forgot something, scarhead." Harry's face falls as he realizes what Draco is trying to point out.

"...No…"

"Yeah…" Draco raises a brow as Harry flops down, practically melting into the dusty stone floor as he groans.

"I'll just leave them." Harry decides as he continues to become one with the floor.

"No, you won't. The house-elves will get ahold of them when they tidy up and you'll never see them again. Or worse, Crabbe and Goyle will get their grubby hands on them. I highly doubt you'll want them back after that." Draco and Harry wrinkle their noses simultaneously at the thought.

"Fine." Harry bites out, slowly sitting up. His hair is in utter disarray and his glasses are askew, making it look likes he's recently had a close encounter with one of Hagrid's wild nifflers. "But I'm not going to do it. I'm officially tapping out. It's your turn." Harry states, crossing his arms and turning up his nose in a perfect imitation of a bratty child who's about to throw a temper tantrum.

"Fine. I really do have to do everything, don't I." Draco says snippily, moving to pick up the pile of clothes. He walks back over to Harry's trunk, ordering Harry to move as he passes.

Draco drops the clothes unceremoniously on the floor and kneels to unlatch the trunk, which pops open comically as the pressure is released. The blond elegantly retrieves his wand from his robes and flicks it lazily at the overstuffed case. The trunk's contents spring into action, and in a flurry of indiscernible movement, each item is tidied up and placed back into the trunk. With another small gesture, the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor is neatly folded and placed neatly on top. Much to Harry's dismay, Draco is able to close and secure the trunk with little to no effort. Typical.

"I hate you." Harry mutters dejectedly from his place on the floor.

"I'm sure you do. Now, come along, Potter. We have a train to catch."

~~~Time Skip~~~

"Took you long enough." Blaise says through a scoff as Harry and Draco burst into their usual train compartment. Both boys look rumpled and disheveled and their breath is laboured.

No sooner than the compartment door slides shut, the whistle sounds, announcing the Hogwarts Expresse's departure. The train chugs into motion and the hissing of steam fills the Slytherins' ears.

"Get lost, did you?" Theo asks sarcastically, turning over his copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Do you really have to ask?" Draco huffs, slumping down onto the bench across from Blaise and Theo. Harry follows close behind, taking the seat next to the blond.

"I see. The evil stairs still have it out for you, then?" Blaise teases, snickering at Harry's affronted expression.

"You laugh, but those bloody stairs have made it their personal mission to make my life as difficult as possible." Harry exclaims.

The "evil stairs" as Blaise so eloquently put it, have been a running joke between them since the beginning of last year. No matter how much Harry tries to convince them that, yes, the moving staircases deliberately sabotage them, and no, he is not, in fact, crazy, they absolutely refuse to take him seriously, Harry can't even begin to fathom why. He's sane. Completely sane. The sanest, if you will… Don't say a word, just accept that Harry is lying to himself and move on.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Harry." Draco's sarcastic tone irks Harry to no end, and he grumbles incomprehensibly under his breath, sliding down on the bench as he grudgingly admits defeat.

Suddenly, the sliding door bursts open, revealing a mass of bushy brown hair. "Oh, finally! I was beginning to think I'd never find you." Hermione Granger rushes into the compartment, snapping the door shut behind her. Harry immediately rises to greet her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?" Harry asks as he pulls away, smiling brightly at the Gryffindor girl.

"Ronald invaded my compartment. Need I say more?" Hermione state shortly, huffing in annoyance before greeting the other three Slytherins.

Harry sits down beside Draco and gestures for Hermione to take the seat next to him.

"So," Theo begins once everyone is settled. "How are things in Gryffindor tower?"

Hermione scoffs. "Don't even get me started. If it's not Ronald making a complete arse of himself, then it's Lavendar Brown making fun of my hair, or Parvati Patil telling me that I'll be alone for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'm starting to wish that I'd been sorted into Slytherin, despite all of the prejudice against muggle-borns. No offense, by the way." Hermione rants, waving her arms around to punctuate her annoyance.

"None taken." Draco responds with an amused snort. "Besides, you're living proof that blood status doesn't mean shit when it comes to magical ability. Aren't you at the top of our year in every subject?"

"Almost. You and Harry are above me in Potions." She mumbles with a blush of embarrassment. Whether the red spreading across her cheeks is from her lack of skill in potions or the sudden and unexpected praise is unknown.

"Well, to be fair, Draco and I get private lessons from Professor Snape over the holidays." Harry reminds her, chuckling and patting her on the shoulder.

"Are you saying that if it weren't for those extra lessons, I'd be better than you?" Hermione teases with a smirk. Harry immediately takes up an expression of horror and Draco begins laughing uproariously.

"You wish, Granger." Draco manages to say through his deranged chuckling.

"Well, you don't have to be rude about it." Hermione jokingly huffs and crosses her arms, slumping down dejectedly.

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" Blaise chimes in, an amused grin plastered on his face.

"Yeah, when people think about Draco Malfoy, 'nice' usually isn't the word they use to describe him." Theo adds, smiling sardonically at Draco. The blond's face contorts in rage as Theo's jibe begins to sink in.

"Are you trying to get yourself hexed?" Harry asks as the rest of the compartment, sans Draco, bursts into laughter.

"Possibly." Theo replies with a shrug.

"I've taught you well! I'm so proud!" Harry cries, wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes.

"Shut up, Potter." Draco growls, smacking the dark-haired Slytherin upside the head with a notebook he pulled from his satchel. Before Harry can respond in kind, Draco continues. "By the way, my father replied while you were fighting with your trunk." Draco hands the journal-turned weapon of mass destruction over to Harry.

"What is that?" Hermione asks, craning her neck curiously to get a better view of the now open journal in Harry's lap.

"A three-way-journal. It was a Christmas gift from Draco's father. It allows Draco, Lucius, and me to communicate under the radar." Harry replies lightly as he flips through the pages to find Lucius' reply.

"That sounds useful." Hermione states, her face scrunched up in thought as she tries to remember if she's read about them before.

"It is." Draco says simply, nodding before striking up a light conversation about Quidditch with Blaise and Theo, filling the compartment with chatter and giving Harry a chance to read Lucius' response.

Harry,

The information contained within your correspondence is both interesting and concerning. We will be sure to discuss this at length while you are home for Christmas.

Lucius

~~~Time Skip~~~

A few hours later, the Hogwarts Express screeches to a stop at the station. Students quickly begin to exit the train, running to greet their families. Draco, Harry, Blaise, Theo, and Hermione are among the last to exit, having waited in their compartment to avoid the sea of students. Harry has a bad habit of getting lost in large crowds, so they didn't want to risk it.

They step off the train, lugging their trunks behind them, and congregate on the platform to say their goodbyes. Hermione is the first to leave, making sure to give each of them a hug and a smile before she skips over to her family. Blaise and Theo go next, walking over to Blaise's smiling family after promising to write as often as they can.

Once their friends have reached their families, Harry and Draco begin searching for the Malfoys. They're easy to spot, tall and elegant as they are. They're standing stoically in the center of the platform, paying no mind to the people who are skirting around them. Harry and Draco share a smile before they begin making their way through the crowd of people standing between them and the Malfoys.

Narcissa is the first to notice their approach, stepping forward with effortless grace and bending slightly to hug the two boys. Lucius notices his wife's actions and gives an almost imperceptible soft smile at the scene before him. Draco and Harry pull away from Narcissa's embrace after a few moments, stepping back and straightening.

"Mother, Father." Draco says, nodding to each of his parents in turn. Lucius nods back while Narcissa smiles brightly.

"Are you two ready to go home?" Narcissa asks, receiving grins from the two boys.

"Absolutely." They respond in unison, eliciting a chuckle from Narcissa.

As he follows Narcissa and Lucius to the floo, Harry reflects on Narcissa's use of the word "home". A content feeling spreads through his body, zipping down his spine and through the tips of his fingers. He looks at Draco out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to Lucius and Narcissa. He smiles.

They stop in front of one of the fireplaces on the far wall, and the bag of floo powder is presented to Harry. He reaches out to take a handful, but hesitates for a moment.

"You alright?" Draco asks, his brows scrunched in confusion, his eyes filling with worry. Harry pauses, shaking his head slightly before meeting Draco's inquisitive gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go home."