Harry Potter and the Shard of Magic.

By Wihstrum

But did you know,
That when it snows,
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen.

Seal – kiss from a rose

Chapter Nineteen: Merry Belated Christmas.

Part One.

Draco's hot chocolate was in an absolutely huge mug and red-green-white colored marshmallows floated all over the top of it. Grudgingly he squinted through the sweet smelling heat curling up from it, and Draco had to admit he'd never felt any more miserable than he felt now. The simple act of packing some of his belongings and the journey to The Burrow had left him completely drained of the little energy he'd managed to gather during his short repose in the ward. From the moment he'd entered the Weasley domain he'd been treated politely, but the tension was so thick that it was almost vibrating through the atmosphere. Mrs. Weasley for one; had been very nice to him, and rather curious. It had been the reaction from the rest of the red-haired family that was distinctly different; some were expectant, others were stony and reserved, and in the twins' case, rather hostile even though not verbally. Draco hadn't been very surprised by this fact though, even more he'd seen it coming, but that didn't make the confrontation any less sour and strained. And what didn't help at all was that he knew that he deserved it, after all he'd made it his life's goal to bitter the Weasleys' life.

Naïve he'd been. So naïve… For they had much more than he'd ever had. And he had only realized that when he lost all what he'd once valued. How empty and naïve.

They were all sitting around the scrubbed wooden table, Draco doing his absolute best not to confront one of the Weasleys with his gaze. So instead he found himself glaring at his mug, sipping it ever so carefully, and the only thing that made him feel better, were his fingers entwined with Harry's under the table, even though it might have counted for the bond. And the mental embrace Alex warmly held him in ever since he'd walked through the front gate.
Around him was amiable chatter, sometimes interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's fussing over Ron's temperature which had not subsided, even more so, it had probably increased a few more degrees. The warmth that came with Christmas was there even with his presence, and even though most of the Weasley children had ignored him. Their company now existed of Ron, Ginny, the twins, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, Harry, Hermione and himself. He'd picked something up that a certain 'Bill' and 'Charlie' would be arriving in about half an hour or so. To his other side was Granger and probably the only one who took a quick glance at him whenever she thought he didn't notice, but what unsettled Draco the most was that it were concerned ones. And that, in turn, made him feel even guiltier.

"Is there something you'd like, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's head shot upwards with a jerk, turning to the person who'd addressed him. Mrs. Weasley was smiling encouragingly at him, unsettling him even more so.

He shook his head, and replied politely, "No thank you. I'm fine." He was just about to gaze back into his cup, wishing he could just bathe in the warm liquid drink, that he suddenly corrected, "Or maybe… if it's possible, I'd like to have a shower." He asked, idea prompted by the warm cocoa.

The Gryffindor found himself nodding eagerly at that. A shower would be wonderful right now, after all it had been a few days since he had one, being bed ridden "Yeah, me too."

The sudden silence that crashed over the table was vaguely alarming; he'd said something wrong. Harry blinked nervously, trying to figure out what exactly he'd mentioned that had been so offending. All eyes were fixed on him, most of them disapproving, or shocked, or like Hermione's bemused one. There was only one pair of eyes that did not held anything negative; Draco was raising his eyebrows somewhat amused and there was an upwards curl in the right corner of his mouth.

And then Harry was belatedly struck with the realization that Draco... would have to join him in the shower. Naked. Together. It was a shock that struck him in the stomach like a physical blow, and he swallowed audibly.

Draco treated Harry to a quick grin, and the oh-so-familiar raised eyebrow, causing the Gryffindor to lower his head, tying to hide his red tinged cheeks.

"I can't allow that," Mrs. Weasley said, tone wavering a bit. It was not that she was against the idea of Harry and Draco, but showering together at such a young age was just something that clashed horribly with her motherly values.

But no one had counted on the ever-so-practical and reasonable Hermione to pick up on that, "I don't want to question the ethic incorrectness of the situation, but their physical health is rather important seeing their current situation." Hermione slightly hesitated, having Draco genuinely bewildered gaze on her and Molly's shocked one, "They will be bound for at least another week, so this will have to happen, one way or another."

Mrs. Weasley promptly opened her mouth to protest at that, but found her lips opening and closing soundlessly, not knowing any objection to that. She turned to look at a still very flustered Harry who seemed very fascinated with some breadcrumb, and a Draco Malfoy, raising his pale eyebrows at Hermione, with an amused smirk around his lips. "O-okay then," Molly ground out hesitantly, "But I want the two back down here in half an hour." She continued more fervently and really now, how much could they do in half an hour?

Draco rose himself with flourish, really not bothering to hold back the slightly disturbing grin, "Well then, now that's settled, c'mon Harry." He hauled Harry up to his feet by his hand, and tugged him into the direction of the bathroom.

A flare of embarrassed panic washed over the Gryffindor and he mouthed a 'help me' in Ron's direction. The redhead, though, was mutely gaping at Harry as if he were going to meet a violent and agonizing death. He turned to Hermione instead, but his friend seemed to doubt herself now whether this had been such a good idea. When no one came to his aid, he hung his head in defeat, and followed woodenly after Draco, who seemed in a much better mood than he'd been all day.

So that's why both young men found themselves struggling and swearing under their breath as they tried to get off their clothes. Dressing or undressing together in tandem, while holding on to each other, proved to be a rather complicated event.

"Would you just stand still?" Harry breathed as he tried to shinny his way out of his jeans, which was not exactly as easy as it sounded, since he had to be touching Draco one way or another.

Draco's voice was partly muffled, seeing as he was still stuck with his sweater halfway over his head, arms in the air, and face covered by the ticklish wool. He tried again –and Harry couldn't decipher anything apart from 'stuck'- and then he sneezed.

With a roll of his eyes, and his jeans still knotted up around his thighs, Harry tried to free Draco from his uncomfortable situation. The progress involved a lot of 'ow', 'aw', 'damn Gryffindor' and 'watch the hair', before Harry actually managed to pull the sweater over Draco's head.

Blonde hair stood up in a fluffy fashion, and Draco's cheeks were tinged pink from frustration. He blinked at Harry, and then abruptly sneezed again.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled sarcastically as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

The Slytherin shot him a snarkish smirk, before starting to unbuckle his belt, causing Harry to blush and turn his back to him as much as possible without being forced to let go.

At long last, both of them were rid of their clothes, and Harry was seriously debating whether it would be manageable to shower with his eyes closed. It was not that he did not want to look at Draco, because he most certainly did, but he was rather embarrassed about his own physique and he could not bear the appraising gaze of Draco's artic eyes. And then there were the joys of teenage hormones, with which –Harry was sure- he could not deal and most certainly not now, with everything out in the open for Draco to see.

Draco cleared his throat meaningfully, at which the Gryffindor slowly crooked open one eye. Forcing his eyes to remain focused on the latter's face, Harry noticed with no small amount of frustration that the blonde was not effectively holding back an amused grin.

"My, my, Potter," he said with a shake of his head, eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of Harry's body, "Haven't we grown up?"

Gritting his teeth, and with burning cheeks he dragged Draco (whom was laughing openly over the other's discomfort) behind him and stepped into the shower. He fumbled a little with the tap, trying to decide on the right temperature.

Meanwhile –and completely oblivious to Harry- Draco was openly enjoying the view of the Gryffindor's backside, provided by the slightly bend-over position… until he received a mental swat over the head. Would you just please try to block me out, or at least warn me? I did not need to see Harry's ass, thank you very much.

Must admit it's a nice ass. He stated matter-of-factly, causing Alex to grumble indignantly before pulling up her barriers full-force. He smiled inwardly; plaguing people with discomfort had always been one of his number one hobbies and it made his day considerably better.

The spray switched on, a pleasantly warm water started to cascade over the both of them, "Temperature good?" Harry asked, blinking the water out of his eyes.

Draco nodded, switched his hand from Harry's own to his shoulder and tried to find a sponge and soap. Soon enough he was covered in foam and Draco let out a long-drawn sigh as the tension was drained from his body.

Briefly forgotten, Harry stood there shifting on his place, waiting for the sponge and soap, with nothing to do, but to watch Draco. The Slytherin was undeniably attractive; not in an effeminate way, nor even in an overly masculine and chiseled way, but in a wholesome, glowingly handsome sort of way. He was built as every effective Seeker was; sleek muscles stretched over a lithe frame and was graceful enough to have the complete control over his body that Harry sometimes didn't have... which made Harry very aware and self-conscious of his own body that could not even hope to compete with the easy beauty of Draco's.

With a contented sigh, Draco stretched his hands above his head, before dropping his arms back to his sides, a move that made Harry's heart beat even faster. He put his own arms behind his back to keep himself from doing anything embarrassing, while letting his shin maintain contact with Draco's lower leg.

After a while Draco handed Harry the soap and the sponge, rolling his eyes when the raven-haired boy immediately started to blush again, eyes dropping down and not quite daring to look at him. While he quickly started to sponge himself in with soap, Harry fervently wished that Draco would stop staring, or that he'd at least be able to kick him without the pain backfiring on himself.

Revising his formerly negative opinion about being bound together, Draco regarded the Gryffindor curiously, feeling suddenly rather detached from the situation. Why was it that the other kept turning away from him, and those blushes? He watched how Harry hastily covered himself in soap, never really leaving Draco out of his sight, but all the same never looking at him. He didn't understand why the stupid Gryffindor was so ashamed, because really, Harry was definitely one of those people who were just meant to wander around all day without garments, because covering up a body like that was practically sinful.

"By the way," Draco said casually, "Nice ass, Mr. Potter." He thoroughly enjoyed how Harry blushed hard enough to make Weasel jealous and he couldn't suppress a gleeful smirk as his companion almost literally lunged for the towel hanging from a hook.

Scrambling out of the shower not so elegantly, trying to wrap a towel around his waist and yet not letting go of Draco's wrist, Harry furiously cursed his tendency to blush over such a remark. And seeing how the glare directed at the blonde came out more like a pout, did NOT help the already embarrassing situation at all.
He watched the Slytherin stepping out of the shower almost lazily, obviously very pleased with himself, and searching the clothing-littered floor for his boxers. He bent down, and Harry was treated to the exquisite sight of the lean muscles and flawless fair skin of his entire, glistering-wet, naked backside.

Grabbing the opportunity to get back at Draco with both hands, he purred in a perfect imitation of the blonde's previous comment, "Hmmm, well thanks Malfoy, nice view."

Gray eyes flew wide in surprise and he whirled around, forgetting that he hadn't pulled his boxers up all the way. He got tangled, and met the floor with a loud smack, yanking Harry partially with him, even though the Gryffindor remained on two feet.

Harry bit his lower lip to suppress his laughter, as he looked down on a very flustered Draco Malfoy staring disbelievingly up at him.

"Not a word," He threatened, struggling helplessly to get upright.

This of course caused Harry to sputter out in snickers, before bursting out in howling laughter, holding gracelessly his hazardly low-hanging towel with his free hand.

Ten minutes later it was Harry dragging a suspiciously blushing Draco Malfoy down the stairs and back into a lovely smelling kitchen, at which the Weasley household narrowed their eyes suspiciously.

"I am so going to get you back for that," Draco breathed between gritted teeth as they moved into the living room, "Mark my words."

The living room was absolutely crowded, especially as Bill and Charlie had arrived while the both of them had been in the shower. A bright red flame danced and crackled warmly in the huge fireplace, casting a restful red glow over the place. Outside it was snowing; thick flakes ambling through the biting cold outside, covering the glowing landscape around the burrow in a thick white duvet. Most of the assembly were nurturing a huge mug of hot cocoa or a small glass of Elderflower wine, chatting good-naturedly. Yet there was a pregnant pause as Draco and Harry made their way over to the mattress lying closely against to wall near the fireplace, where the both of them would also be sleeping during their stay, due to lack of space.

To Draco's complete frustration and dismay, Harry stopped in the middle of the living room to greet both Bill and Charlie, huddled together in a two-seat.

"Hiya Harry," Charlie greeted as he shook Harry's hand warmly, "Seems like the universe hasn't run out of surprises for you yet."

Grinning, Harry elbowed Draco non-too subtly as Charlie also extended his hand to shake his. Genuinely taken aback the Slytherin accepted, even though both twins narrowed their eyes, "Nice to meet you sir." He greeted politely. His lessons in etiquette at which his mother had insisted when he was younger, proved to be a real life saver in situations like these.

Charlie made a dismissive hand gesture, "Sir he says!" he shook his head, "Please, call me Charlie."

Draco nodded, more serious than needed, "Alright, Charlie."

"And this is Bill," Harry informed Draco as he shook the eldest Weasley son's hand.

Bill cocked his head sideward and observed Draco from under lowered eyelids, gazing at him calculatingly, "Draco Malfoy," he said while he shook the Slytherin's hand, "Your Lucius' son aren't you?"

It wasn't a reproach, just a simple statement, but Draco straightened his back and said, "I am no longer his son," he said with a chill of ice in his voice, "I have no father. The man that I knew as my father died during the night of Christmas."

The sharp edge in his voice as he spoke made the hairs in Harry's neck rise and he unconsciously tightened his hold on Draco's left hand protectively.

Nodding slowly, the redhead replied, "Call me Bill." And then he smiled.

Glad that the awkward moment was over, Harry hurried over to sit down on the mattress, accepting another hot chocolate for both him and Draco as he passed Mrs. Weasley. Casting a look outside, he guessed it was about seven o' clock, since the white flecks of crystallized rain contrasted heavily against the dark skies. He and Draco sat in silence, observing how the red-haired family interacted with one other and how the girls helped Mrs. Weasley producing incredible amounts of food and other snacks from the kitchen. After two days of living only on chocolate, Harry's stomach growled in anticipation. With another glace from the corner of his eyes, he confirmed that Draco was probably deep in thought or having a telepathic conversation with Alex. He suspected the first, since the previously stoic expression on Draco's face was now bordering on inner pain as he took in the meaning of family, after losing his own so recently. Silently the boy-who-lived wondered which was worse; losing your parents at birth, dying as they tried to protect you or being abandoned for refusing to serve a heartless madman, trying to murder you while doing so. And now he was forced to watch how the people whom he had looked down on his whole life long, sharing what he now longed for most.

He pulled at the tightly tucked comforter, and wrapped it warmly around both their shoulders, hoping that Draco would not be too proud to accept his comfort, "You okay?" he murmured cautiously.

The distant look in his eyes vanished slowly, as if he came from far away, "Don't worry," he replied, "I was just thinking."

"About?" the Gryffindor tried, hoping to prompt him into talking about it.

Draco leaned back on both his elbows, watching how the table in their midst was almost bending under the sheer amount of the weight of the dishes Hermione and Ginny had gathered there. Just as Harry thought was not going to reply, he started "I know it sounds absurd, but maybe, just maybe, if I survive," He paused his sentence, surprised at Harry's cringe, "I might be able to clear my name." He turned his head to look at Harry, waiting for his reaction.

Green eyes looked at him silently, waiting for him to go on.

He scratched his neck, feeling slightly uncomfortable "You know, rejuvenate the family business, and restore the Malfoy name."

A short silence.

Harry nodded, "I'll help."

Realizing how ridiculous that sounded, he braced himself for Draco's scathing remark, but all the blonde said was, "Thanks."

They lapsed back into silence, but now a comfortable one. Meanwhile several other tables had joined the first, in need for more surface to load the numerous dishes, trays and plates on. When Ginny put the last dish down (roasted chicken) and sat down in-between Hermione and Fred, Ron decided to make everybody aware of the most important –not to mention most horribly delayed- event, "Can we do the presents now?" he complained with a sullen whine.

Molly put her hand on her hips, giving him a warning look, but Ron was immediately backed up by the twins, "Yeah mum, you forced all of us to wait with the presents until they were here!"

With a motherly sigh, but not able to conceal her smile, Molly gave in, "Oh, alright!" she said, throwing her hands in the air as a sign of surrender.

The stack of presents was absolutely huge what with there being ten people in the Burrow with several gifts for each person. Harry sadly concluded that there would be none for Draco, after all barely two weeks ago he'd declared anyone who would have said that Draco Malfoy would be staying over at the burrow ready for St. Mungo's.
Surprisingly however, the blonde was currently caught up in a conversation with Bill about Gringotts and the slow recovery of the Wizarding Bank after the assault of the Death Eaters and the Comars(1).

As he handed his first present over to Ron (which contained a pocket knife similar to the one Sirius had once given him in his fourth year), Harry was surprised to receive his first from Charlie. He looked at the freckled face with wide green eyes, until Draco nudged him, "C'mon open it."

He fondled the parcel thoughtfully, trying to guess what was in it. It was flat and hard, rather heavy for its size. Frowning, he carefully removed the wrapping. He shook his head with a grin as he saw his fourteen year old self sweeping through the air on his Firebolt, trying to obtain the Golden Egg on the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Ah yes," Draco said with a roll of his eyes, "Always the hero." He ducked the ball of paper Harry aimed at him, "Not to mention mentally deranged hero." He added as afterthought as he saw the Hungarian Horntail swing her deadly spiked tail at photo-Harry, but he couldn't completely hold back an impish grin.

"Thanks Charlie," Harry said, holding the frame with the magical picture.

His next one was slightly smaller, wrapped in a tidy bright red paper with a golden bow. It was Hermione and Ron's present. After prying the tight wrapping from the little box, Harry was pleasantly overwhelmed; they'd given him a new watch. He thanked them, slightly unsettled because it was rather expensive.

Next was the present from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a big, soft and squishy present, and Harry had no doubt what it was going to be. Upon opening that suspicion was confirmed; a warm woolen, deep red colored sweater with a golden 'H' on it. He pulled his own sweater over the head, and slipped the official Weasley jumper on instead.

That was the first time during the presents exchange that Draco withdrew in himself again, quietly chewing on a large chuck of chocolate cake, observing the whole scene in a detached manner.

One of his last ones was without doubt the most special one: It was a rather large box, and under the paper the lid read: Open with care, contents fragile. And an envelope was taped upon it as well. Curiously he opened it, and pulled a small piece of parchment out which said:

Dear Harry,

We hope you will like our present, it was rather hard to find another one, seeing as they're so awfully rare. I trust you know how to use it…

Sincerely,

Remus J. Lupin & Finbar S. Ganad

His dark eyebrows rose at that, and in the meantime Ron settled next to him, but not without a weary look in Draco's direction. "What'd ya got there mate?" he asked.

Genuinely curious now, he opened the lid and reached inside. From the moment his fingertips made contact with the smooth surface, shaped as a bowl, he knew what it was. He pulled it out for everyone to see.

"A Pensive!" Arthur said in awe, coming closer to take a look.

Open mouthed Harry stared at the precious gift he'd just received and even Draco was observing it with great interest as well.

"Those werewolves…" Ron snickered as he read the note.

Hermione smiled warmly, "Well, that's quite a valuable gift you've received, Harry," she said as the pensive was passed on to her, "Imagine what you could learn from this."

Feeling absolutely lonely now, even though he might have been surrounded by so many people, Draco welcomed the supportive hand Harry rested in his neck, winding the soft locks of his hair between his fingers. And just before he could let out a misery filled sigh, and owl tapped on the window.

"Really now, a letter this late?" Molly pondered, walking over to open the window.

A large barn owl, one of those you found in the Owlery on Hogwarts, hopped in and Harry immediately smiled as the large bird gracefully swooped over to land in front of Draco. Molly, in meanwhile, was about to shut the window when a second bird dove through it, closely followed by a third one and also the last one. The second bird was not an owl; instead it was a large black raven, which landed on Draco's shoulder. The third one was an owl again; cooing regally as it settled on Draco's other shoulder.

"Well," Hermione said with a soft smile, "Seems like there are people out there who really care for you, no matter what decisions you make in your life."

Harry smiled gratefully at his fellow housemate and best friend, ever so impressed with her ability to say the right things on the right moment, even if it was directed at someone who'd treated her so lowly.

Swallowing convulsively and feeling absurdly nervous all of a sudden, Draco untied the packages strapped on the each of the birds' legs. As he was busy releasing the package from the raven, he whispered hoarsely, "This is Blaise's raven, Aasento."

It was a very tiny package, which Draco could hold in the palm of his hand, with a simple green wrapper. The Slytherin just sat there, staring at it, realizing that the three presents he had received, were from three people whom he could truly call friends. Almost trembling, he removed the wrapper. Out of it tumbled a shiny sliver object, and Draco caught it, noticing how he could curl his whole hand around it. He flattened his hand, and there, in his palm, lay a very small, silver dragon. It was curled up and appeared to be sleeping.

Meanwhile Ginny had picked up a letter that had been nearly crumpled up and thrown away with the wrapper, "Want me to read it?" she asked tentatively.

Draco directed his piercing gray eyes at her, momentarily startling her, before he nodded.

A surprised smile flashed over her face before she began to read:

Draco

I know we agreed not to do this mushy Christmas stuff, but I stumbled upon it on my last visit in Hogsmeade and believe it or not, it kind of reminded me of you (don't know whether that's a compliment). Anyway, this is not just a little trinket, it has been charmed. It can animate and perform little tasks. Awaken the dragon by gently touching its head with your wand (and I do mean gently, because trust me; you don't want to piss him off. The little bugger has sharp teeth, I found out.) and say 'evigilo'. Just tell him your command, politely mind you, and it should obey. To get him back to sleep touch its head once again with your wand and say 'dormio'.
It also has a name; Drake (can you tell this was Alex's startling original idea?).

So that was it. I hope you'll like it.

Blaise N. Zabini.

Draco stared at the softly snoring dragon in his hand, a barely visible smile playing across his lips, "I don't know what to say."

"What about thank you?" Hermione offered jokingly.

"Obviously," he retorted with a roll of his eyes, "Remind me when we get back…"

"That's great and all," Ron said as he offered the raven, Aasento, some cake, "But you don't have a wand." He pointed out.

"Yes Ronald, thank you," Hermione muttered aggravated, "Tactful as ever."

Draco carefully slipped the dragon in the pocket of his sweater, "He does have a point," he admitted, even though he did shot an irritated glance at the redhead. Then he turned to the next present, even smaller than Blaise's and instead of being wrapped in paper, it was a small, silk pouch. He pulled the cords loose and turned it over in his hand. This time he was holding a delicate silver ring. Raising it to eye height he observed it closely; it were two entwined snakes, twisting around each other in a perfect circle, until both the heads met each other again; each one viciously clutching hold of a small, blood red Ruby.

"There's no note," he noticed as he checked the silken pouch again.

Bill leaned over, "Could I have a look at that?" he asked, eyes wide in fascination.

Without second thought, seeing as the redhead had been particularly nice to him tonight, Draco handed him the ring. In anticipating silence they watched how Bill skillfully twirled the ring through his fingers, ever so often touching it with his wand and uttering a hard to pronounce spell, submitting the enigmatic object to his trained eye. It lasted for about ten minutes, before Bill returned the ring, "It's not cursed, but that's one impressive work of craftsmanship."

He slipped the sliver bond over his ring finger, but found it was much too big. So instead Draco slipped it around his left thumb. He frowned at it thoughtfully, running several names through his head from people who would want to give him such a personal object. He put the matter a side for later, since he had one more present to go. As he freed the barn owl from her burden, he noticed it was not one present, but two.

"This one's for you," Draco said eventually, and he gave the present to Harry, "It's from Alex."

For the first time this evening, the Gryffindor realized that he hadn't come across one of Alex's, even though both Ron and Hermione had received one. He weighted it in his hand, as he ran his fingers over the odd form, trying to figure what it could be.

"Open up!" Ron interrupted cheekily.

Harry grinned broadly at his best friend, and then he hastily removed the wrapper. Unfortunately for him…

"Shit," he cursed shamelessly, quickly withdrawing his hand as the object cut him. He sucked on the wound, it was not deep, but it did sting viciously. Picking up the black cord peeking from under the remains of wrapper, Harry gasped in surprise as he recognized it on sight, "Oh God," He breathed softly, running his fingers carefully over the slightly bend object, "Alex's Jaw."

"Huh?" came the mutual response from most of the Weasleys.

Almost worshippingly he traced the unusually large jaw, "Well, remember that one night. When she and I faced Vol-"

The Weasleys hissed.

"-Sorry," he apologized quickly, "When we faced you-know-who, it was the first time she changed into a tiger. Yes she's an animagus," he added quickly for most of the shocked Weasleys, "Anyway, when she fought those Comars, she received a heavy head wound. As she turned human again, she was missing a tooth. Although one grew back, the one she lost in her animagus form remained that of a tiger." He explained and then, very cautious, he slipped the black cord around his neck, the jaw resting in the middle of his chest.

Hermione sat down before him on her knees, "That's dangerous to sleep with Harry, you could get hurt. Allow me," she waited for his affirmative, and when she received a nod she spoke with a graceful swish of her wand, "Demulceo"

Testingly touching the needle-sharp tip, no harm was done, even when he wrapped his whole hand around it tightly, "Thanks Hermione!"

His friend smiled warmly, before taking up her place next to Ron, still sitting next to Harry on the mattress.

"C'mon Malfoy," Ron urged, "It's not going to unwrap itself."

Draco directed a withering glare at him, which he saved especially for Ron, before disposing the rectangular box from its wrapper. Why had Alex given him another present? She'd already given him the Zodiac-stone. A tight feeling knotted his chest as understanding dawned. He tipped the tender lid of the small box, and his hunch was confirmed. No longer able to stop his hand from trembling, he took out the note that was seated on top of the wand.

Dear Draco,

Consider this a last minute present. Let me explain: when you were packing, I asked Finbar whether he could check your aura right before you left. You probably didn't know, but Finbar is gifted with the Auric Sight. Either way, this wand is, or now was, mine. I was never meant to wield a wand, seeing as I myself basically already function as one. I, too, am a core in a vessel. Even so, I suspected that chances might be, due to our identical genetic structure, that this one could be right for you. Finbar compared your magical compatibility with that of the wand. He suspected that it had 85 of succeeding.
It is made from acacia, 12", pliable. The core is made of the rare feather of the wing from a Pegasus stallion. And then I do not mean a winged horse; no, a real Pegasus: a pure white stallion, which can only be caught with a golden bridle.

I hope you will have more use for it than I had.

Love, Alex.

With high hopes, he took the wand out of its case. A strong surge of magic power rushed through his body, as the wand accepted Draco as its master. The wind stirred; and circled around the young wizard, whom was briefly glowing. He could literally feel the magic creep through his skin - it was so much more powerful than his previous one, from which the core had been made out of ivory.

"That was very perceptive of her," Hermione spoke silently, breaking the trembling silence.

"That little brat," Draco murmured affectionately, as he reached back into the pocket of his sweater, fingers easily finding the cool silver dragon. Pointing the tip of the wand carefully –as Blaise had instructed- to the head of the dragon he spoke clearly, "Evigilo"

Tiny silver eyelids slid open, revealing two amber eyes, and the dragon stretched in a very catlike fashion, yawning gracelessly.

"Reminds me of Pig," Ron remarked jokingly.

Slate gray eyes narrowed at the redhead, and he was ready to give 'Drake' his first command, "We're not going to let Weasel insult you, now won't we," he said with feigned sweetness, followed by a particularly wicked grin "Attack!"

Immediately Ron ducked behind Harry, in effort of protecting himself, which wasn't really necessary, since the dragon was eying Draco in an arrogant way, obviously not impressed and wagging its tail tauntingly.

"Now we know why it reminded Blaise so much of you," Harry pointed out dryly.

"Traitor," he retorted, but even as he tried to hide it, everyone could see Draco was delighted, "Alright then…" he directed himself back to the dragon, "Please, attack?"

This time, Ron let out a disturbingly feminine sounding 'meep', as Drake obeyed the command, spreading its wings and darting of Draco's hand, hunting after its prey.

"AAAH!" Ron screeched, "The little bugger has –AAAAH!- sharp gnashers." He whirled his arms around him trying to bat his unusual foe away, "Get him –AAAH!- off!"

The blonde nodded appreciatively, "I like him."

Not able to suppress a snicker at the scene, Harry briefly caught a glimpse of the twins' identical grin at slate eyed youth's remark. Silently he thanked both Blaise and Alex, as well as the stranger, since they had made Draco's visit worth the trouble.

Meanwhile the Slytherin had summoned his silver dragon back to him, which was now proudly parading on Draco's knee, openly pleased with itself, while Ron rubbed his backside with a pained expression on his face.

Moaning contently, Draco huddled away in the thick fluffy pillows and he stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them. He was sitting upright against the wall, leaning into the numerous pillows they'd gathered there. Even though he was rather drowsy and very calm at the moment, his heart was beating strangely fast. Something deep inside of him had clicked into silent acceptance of whatever it seemed faith had in store for him. He could never forget the foul betrayal from his father; the proof that the only certainty one had was unpredictability, a lesson that had literally scarred him for life. But he had survived, the recollection of events burned into his soul. He had been saved by six other people, from whom he barely knew three:

Alex, even though she was able get on his nerves like no other –save for Weasel- could, he honestly dared to admit that he cared for her deeply. Maybe even love, but he'd rather bite his tongue than having to say that out loud. How she'd changed him, never intimidated by him and doing everything to irritate him, and even so, she'd won her own rightful place next to him. From then on he'd felt as if he'd been part of something. A true friend.

Then Blaise, his housemate for all those years, right there next to him, all the time. And only now he was starting to learn something about this enigmatic, smooth talking youth. Somehow he'd always been there when he'd needed him, in his own subtle manner, but ever so supportive. And so wise and mature, almost like Granger.

And finally Harry. He, Draco had known longest, the dark-haired boy with big green eyes, he'd seen him all those years ago, in Madam Malikin's Robes for all Occasions. A malnourished, strangely endearing boy in oversized clothing and a nervous smile; imagine the overwhelming shock upon learning he was Harry Potter. And he had just stood there parroting what his father had taught him, absolutely sure he'd made another friend. How intriguing that little boy had been. And Draco? He had been a snobby, condescending little brat, and how angry and humiliated he'd been when Harry had preferred Ron's friendship over his…

As if sensing his thoughts, Harry stirred in his sleep, slurring something ineligible under his breath.

Okay, so the position in which Harry's head lay was alarmingly arousing, but thankfully enough, Draco's body seemed too sedated with Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking and the first touches of sleep, that it didn't react immensely disgracingly. Somehow during the period in which Draco had been lost in though, Harry had huddled his way closer to him, resting his head in the blonde's lap. The contrast of the coal-colored hair against the Slytherin's own fair skin was appallingly harsh, yet perfect, as some sort of divine ying-yang. Reluctantly he caressed the Gryffindor's hair, learning that it was thick and heavy, but clean and soft. It reminded him of something expensive and fine.

Harry's rhythmic breathing pattern ceased, but he didn't move from his current position. The Slytherin knew he was awake, but he didn't stop his hand from running through the ever-so-messy dark hair. An uncontrollable shiver ran down his spine as Harry's lips softly brushed the sensitive skin of his lower belly while he murmured, "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to ask you an incredible mushy question," Harry began sheepishly, and he shifted the angle of his head in Draco's lap so that he could look at him, "when did you first notice that you were…well you know… to me. What made it change?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the carefully avoided words, but he thought about it anyway. From his half-upright position he could just see through the window on the other side of the living room, the snow had turned the landscape around the Burrow a brilliant opaline white, "Remember that night when I returned that ruddy mirror of yours?" he bit his lip as Harry nodded, wishing he would stop the dangerous friction, "Well, just before I left, you grabbed my wrist. If I recall correctly that was the first time you actually touched me without meaning to hurt me, or the other way around."

Contemplating that answer briefly, he nodded, "We've been idiots, haven't we?" Harry said with an amused grin over his lips.

A pale eyebrow was raised and he regarded Harry from under lowered eyelids, "In your case, nothing much has changed then."

Languidly, Harry moved to sit up next to Draco, "You certainly know how to spoil the mood," he pretended to be offended, but a cheeky grin could not be avoided.

"Now Harry," Draco placated huskily, as he leaned over the dark-haired wizard possessively, "If you thought this meant chocolate, flowers and candlelight dinners," he paused meaningfully to catch Harry's earlobe between his teeth, "Then I'm sorry to say you're sadly mistaken. I am just not the sentimental kind"

"Thank God," the Gryffindor barely managed to gasp as the blonde found a particularly sensitive spot in his neck to nibble upon. Harry leaned into the Slytherin's body more, resting his head in the nape of Draco's neck, and vaguely embarrassed because his heart was nearly hammering its way out of his ribcage. Harry lay still and very stiffly, wondering what on earth you were expected to do in such situations. "Who taught you to do this, Parkinson?"

Draco bit down rather hard, before muttering indignantly, "Now that's spoiling the mood," and he stared back down at the glittering eyes of Harry whom was smiling impishly up at him.

"Well, you did escort her to the Yule Ball in fourth grade, didn't you?" Harry continued gleefully, taking obvious joy in making the blonde uncomfortable. Being in charge of the situation wasn't so bad after all. This pillow talk thing was a revelation - Draco could be really entertaining when he relaxed a bit, usually he was rather edgy and combative. "Did you kiss her?"

"Shut up, Potter, just shut up," he shuddered involuntarily at the memory, "It was like kissing a leech." He said with a sour grimace, before casting a reproachful look in Harry's direction, "No wonder I ended up with you."

Taking Draco off guard this time, Harry swiftly wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, drawing him close until their lips were brushing, "Prat," he whispered softly placing a tentative kiss on the slightly parted lips. Lips he'd always known to be pulled into a cruel sneer, a smug, hateful smirk or an angry scowl. He'd never have believed that lips like those could be so soft, even though they were pressed urgently against his own. Lips that tasted sweet, spicy and essentially Draco.

Late afternoon, Hogwarts.

Sauntering lazily through the chilly corridors of the immense magical castle, Finbar shifted the rather large parcel under his arm for a better grip. Here and there a few stray students ran through the corridors, and if they were Gryffindors they'd stop to greet him. Finbar felt strangely at ease at this school, so much more at home than at Durmstrang institute. The homesickness had ceased after reading the letter from home that had came with one of his presents this morning.
Upon entering the Entrance Hall, he saw Zabini leaning nonchalantly against the wall, shooting dark glares at lower years, scaring them off effectively.

He raised his head as he heard Finbar's approaching footsteps, and pushed himself fluidly off the wall, "You'll have to do with me as your guide, I'm afraid, Alex is still asleep."

The werewolf shrugged, "S'kay,"

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the package under his arm, but decided against commenting on it, and said instead, "Anyways, we'll have to make a short trip to the kitchens, I need to pick up some soup for Alex." not waiting for an affirmative he whirled around in a flurry of expensive robes and strode off.

Rolling his eyes at the antics, the Empath tagged after him.

Twenty minutes later, they stepped into the Slytherin common room, and Finbar felt like stepping into the past, when he attended at Durmstrang. There were very few students left, if it were more than six –Blaise and Alex included- it would have been a lot. He ignored the vengeful glares they directed at the intruding Gryffindor, and concentrated on why Blaise was leading him to the boys dormitory (he still remembered from after spying on Harry and Draco) and not to the girls dormitory.

"Not that it is my business," he spoke up, valiantly trying to suppress a peek of jealousy, "but why is she apparently sleeping in the boy's dorm?"

Blaise looked slyly over his shoulder, arching his eyebrows curiously, "Not jealous now are we?" When he received no answer, he continued more seriously, "Don't worry, she and I are merely friends. But it is my fault that she's sleeping there."

The door opened with a soft screech, and Blaise crossed the room over to the bed where Alex was sleeping in. Carefully putting the steaming bowl on the nightstand he explained, "She woke up in the middle of the night and came up here. Apparently she had heard me screaming."

"Nightmares?" Finbar questioned softly, observing the deep dark bags, as if Blaise had two equally bruised eyes.

The brown haired wizard nodded thoughtfully, "She stayed up all night, even though she needed the sleep more than I did, watching over me."

Finbar regarded the usually stoic expression change into a soft smile before Blaise effectively broke the strangely delicate moment, by prodding Alex rather sharply with his wand.

"Fuck you Blaise," came the grumpy retort, as she wrapped the blanket more tightly around her.

Crossing the small distance from hers to his own bed –which was still littered with wrappers from the presents he'd opened up this morning- Blaise sat down gracefully, "Flattering as that request may be," he drawled smoothly, smirking at Finbar's dark look on that comment, "I don't think your friend here would appreciate that."

A sleep-mussed head poked out from the tangled bed sheets, frowning at the so-said company, and it seemed to take her a while before her mind caught up, "Finbar!" she uttered, scrambling out of bed like a man possessed. Rubbing her eyes, as if trying to make sure she wasn't hallucinating, Alex seemed distinctly uncomfortable, trying to flatten her wild hair nervously.

"Merry Christmas by the way," Blaise said with a wide grin at the display.

Pulling at the hem of Harry's old t-shirt -hoping to cover up her exposed thighs- she gave Blaise a sour glare for not waking her up earlier and sparing her the embarrassing moment. Nevertheless, she walked over and gave him three kisses, "Merry Christmas." Then she spotted the soup and scrunched up her nose, "Again soup? Couldn't you bring me any real food, like pudding or pancakes or something?"

"Your stomach still can't take any solid food, remember," Blaise said tiredly.

Alex shot on last reproaching look at the bowl, before answering, "At least it'll taste good for about thirty seconds…"

Blaise wisely chose to ignore that remark, and due the lack of his response, Alex shrugged and went on, stopping rather awkwardly in front of Finbar as well, "Well," she murmured, pulling more fervently at the hem of the shirt, "Merry Belated Christmas."

To Finbar's eyes it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, "Yeah, merry belated Christmas…" he hesitated a moment, than held on tight to his Gryffindor courage and leaned over to kiss her as well. Alex's lips were warm on his cheeks, only a brief touch, but it felt so much more than a chaste, friendly kiss, so much deeper than friends use to exchange kisses. It was over too soon.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower…" she muttered, as red as a beetroot. And then she darted out of the dormitory.

With an arch of his hand, Blaise said, "Feel free to sit wherever you want, Ganad."

The Gryffindor simply took up a spot next to the other, jogging the bed as Blaise was busying himself with casting a warming-spell over Alex's soup, "Can we drop the last-name issue? It's damn well irritating," Finbar scolded in expiration.

A pair of bright brown eyes focused on him studiously, and after a long, ill-fitting stillness, he suddenly outstretched his hand, "Blaise Zabini, nice to meet you,"

"Finbar Ganad, likewise," the werewolf smiled, reaching out to shake the other's hand.

It happened so fast that neither of them had the time to analyze it; the exact moment that their skin touched, a bright silver spark sizzled through the air, connecting their hands. Both young men withdrew their hand immediately, startled and wide-eyed.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Blaise cried, having lost a lot of his cool bravado.

Finbar shook his head, "I didn't do anything!"

Eying one other wearily, they extended their hands again. Exactly the same thing occurred, only this time they weren't fast enough:

"Let go of my hand!" the Slytherin yelped, pulling in vain.

Mirroring the other's efforts of trying to jerk his hand from the tight grasp, he ground out: "What the hell? We're stuck?"

It was if they were glued together as two magnets; a positive and a negative one, pulling at each other through the laws of nature.

"Aw! Stop yanking, you're ripping my skin!" Blaise hissed indignantly; unaware of how ambiguous that sounded.

"Am I'm interrupting something?" Alex said with an immense grin picking up on that thought, as she entered the dorm again while ruffling a towel through her hair, "First Harry and Drake, and now you two…"

"We're stuck!" they yelled in unison, dawning panic evident in their voice.

Knitting her brows, taking in the sight of both house rivals holding hands and yet not able to let go, Alex did, completely unconscious, the most logical thing: she touched both their shoulders. With horrible timing, the young men fiercely pulled one last time, but they were already loose. Finbar toppled over the edge of the bed, and landed with a loud thud on the floor while Blaise jerked so violently backwards that he hit his head against the headboard.

Pushing himself up at one elbow, and rubbing his neck, Finbar muttered, "What the hell happened? My Sight is completely buggered."

Groaning Blaise held his head between both hands, feeling rather miserable, "Why is it that whenever someone gets too close to Gryffindors, things go wrong?"

Alex shrugged at that, sitting down on her bed (which was actually Draco's) and her attention immediately evaporated as she saw a pretty impressive stack of presents at the end of the bed. Enthusiastically grabbing the first one she could reach, she started to unravel.
Meanwhile, Finbar cautiously got up, and wisely sat down next to her instead, as he and Blaise stared at each other blandly, both attempting to find a justifiable theory about what just had ensued. The Slytherin shook his head incredulously after a while, and gave the werewolf a crooked smile. As Alex had already worked herself halfway through the surprises, the Gryffindor suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place. Keeping a safe distance between him and the other wizard, he carefully picked up the large parcel he'd brought with him.

He nudged her and held out the present, "Here,"

Looking at him crestfallen, Alex took over the rather large, cubical and colorfully wrapped gift with a floppy bow on top of it.

"It's from me, Harry and Ron," Finbar said with a smile, "I couldn't wrap it until this morning neither could I have it delivered the usual way, you'll see why."

With an arched eyebrow at his quizzical explanation, she started to removed the wrapping gently. She gave a gasp in astonishment when she was what was inside; "He's awesome!" came her breathless response, as she opened the cage and watchfully took out the iguana.

The lizard was small enough to sit perched upon her shoulder, yet too big to be carried around in her pocket. It seemed particularly tame, even though it rolled comically with both its eyes, completely independent of each other.

"You'll still have to name it though," Finbar pointed out, content that she liked it.

Nodding slightly, and chuckling as the lizard crawled its way up her arm to her shoulder, she beamed at Finbar, "C'mere you…" and bluntly kissed him full on the lips.

Two spots of color appeared on the dark-haired youth's cheeks, eyes wide-spread in shock.

Alex was again completely absorbed with her fascination in her new pet, that she hadn't even questioned that particular action. She had a grin plastered on her face that Blaise felt sure would take more than just a crowbar to remove.

---

(1) Comars: These are actually shadowborns. The next updates will include a re-edit of chapter 5, as well as several new scenes from which one of them is about Hagrid explaining during his lessons what Shadowborns/Comars really are.

And yes, well seen, this is PART 1! Originally I wanted to add the rest all in one chapter, but seeing as this alone is 16 pages, I figured it would be a little overwhelming to add the rest, so I split it up.

Part 2 – Bittersweet will feature the return of Percy and Fudge's desperate madness, a hint of Lucius' next step and some of the consequences of what happened on Christmas eve (mainly for Blaise and Ron). And something else which I will not give away.

By the way, I'd like to advertise for my third (yes, third!) story: Inter Sol Solis et Luna
This is –like all my stories- an Harry/Draco fic, AND it's a Vampire fic. I can hear you all thinking 'cliché', but hear me out; this one just might be a little different from the others you might have read. SO give it a try and let me know what you think!

I loved your reviews on the previous chapter, they really made me happy! Do you guys know that whenever I'm at home (and that's not a lot) I run to my computer- even if I only have a one minute time window- to check for reviews! Reallyreallyreally, thank you guys sooooo much! They mean a lot to me, even if they're only 5 words long!