Diah: A Christmas fic to all my lovelies. I know I need to update 'History in a rock', and I'm sorry. I'll get on that real soon. I promise.
Des: We don't own Harry Potter, songs that might be stuck in here, or Christmas. The plot though...is ours.
Diah: There will be boy x boy stuff, language, and maybe some angst...or is it drama? Anyway, the ending will be happy. I mean, it's a Christmas fic after all!
Des: Enjoy!
Diah: Oh! And to those who have me on Author Alert, there's something for you at the end of my bio. This is dedicated to you!
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"'Deck the halls with boughs of holly...Fa la la la la ...la la la la ..." The haunting melody floated through the corridors at night. A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he listened to the forlorn voice calling out into the darkness.
Harry had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas like he always did. Though this holiday season was slightly different because his friends hadn't stayed. Hermione was going on a trip with her parents to New York, and Ron and his entire family were going to a reunion thing. Of course, both of them had offered to stay with their friend, but Harry could see that they each really wanted to go.
So with much reassurance that he would be fine, they left.
"Tis the season to be jolly...Fa la la la la ...la la la la ..." Harry pulled his cloak closer to him, as if that would protect him against the song's pull on his heart. It gave off a sad, lonely feeling. One he was quite familiar with.
That had been several days ago. It had also been the day the songs began.
"Don we now our gay apparel...Fa la la la la ...la la la la ..." Harry had been up late that night, exploring the halls as he usually did when restless. He knew he wouldn't get caught. He never did. That night though...something did catch him.
"Troll the ancient Yuletide carol...Fa la la la la ...la la la la ..." Yes, this voice. The one that now sang of this happy season and of decorating and carols. It had ensnared Harry in a web, leaving him to the feelings he had tried to push away.
It was a new song every night. Never the same song, but always the same voice. Always the same tone. Always...
"Why do you sing so sadly? Have you been hurt? Such a beautiful voice so shrouded in tears...If only I could help..." Harry whispered into the emptiness surrounding him. He had no clue where the voice was coming from or who it belonged to. The person, whoever they where, apparently didn't want to be found, for he couldn't find them on even the Maurader's Map.
"See the blazing Yule before us...Fa la la la la ...la la la la ..." The youth turned and with a slightly wistful glance behind him, he went to bed.
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Harry got up from his bed and stretched. After cracking several joints here and there, he glanced out the window at the thick blanket of snow that had managed to fall over night. Perhaps a snowball fight with some of the others who stayed behind was in order.
The dark haired youth went through the usual morning routine. Take shower, brush hair, get dressed, brush teeth, re-fix hair after roommate pounces on you...the usual.
"Seamus...What now?" harry asked, somewhat annoyed that he had to do his hair again...not that it mattered, but that was beside the point.
"Nothing much, Harry. A bunch of us were going to have a snowball fight, but we're not really sure about teams. We could do Guys vs. Girls, or maybe just pick teams with captains and such, or perhaps Gays vs. Straights...although there are a bit more gays if you include the bi's, and..." Harry blocked out the rest of Seamus's words. Either way, he didn't much care.
He continued doing his hair. After he was done, he nodded to himself in the mirror. Well...that was the best he could do he supposed.
"Well?" Harry turned around with a start.
"Oh, Seamus! Um...Do that second one," he said, trying to remember what the option had been.
"The one with the captains? Hmm..." The Irish boy pondered it for a second before grinning at Harry and clapping him on the back. "That does seem fairest, don't it? Glad I came to you, Harry. Thanks, mate," Seamus said before bouncing out of the room again.
Harry blinked in a confused way at the empty room. "Uh, sure. Anytime?"
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"Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la , la la la la ...!" Harry's head whipped up from where he'd been resting it on the table. He glanced around wildly, but soon saw that it was only a couple Hufflepuffs having fun. 'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'How could you mix the voices up? They're so far apart in difference!'
He shrugged to himself. It was true. The voices weren't even close in similarity. The voice at night was beautiful, and always tinged with sorrow. The voices of the Hufflepuffs had been too happy and were only mediocre in quality. He supposed the reason he had reacted was the fact that they were both the same song. He mentally slapped himself for that.
'Of course, you're bound to hear the same songs sometimes. It is Christmas, you know!' Harry nodded in agreement with his thoughts.
A thunk came from next to him and he quickly snapped back to reality. He turned his head, and was surprised to find Draco Malfoy sitting next to him.
"Malfoy...?"
The blonde looked up at Harry slowly, a passive look firmly planted on his face.
"Yes, Potter?" Harry blinked in shock. Had Malfoy just spoken to him with no malice in his voice?!
"Uh...You...but...I was just going...Can you pass the butter, please?" he said, finishing quite lamely.
The Slytherin arched a perfect eyebrow in question, but passed Harry the butter all the same. For a split second in time, between the two, there was no good and bad, no hated rival, nothing. There was just...peace.
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"So...What are the rules?" someone in the back asked.
"Um..." Seamus looked thoughtful for a second. "We play until one team forfeits...Don't maim or kill anyone...That's it! Let's start now!" It was time for the snowball fight, and somehow Seamus
had managed to get everyone to come to this event, whether to play or just to spectate. The professors, students, ghosts, even Filch and Peeves had come. Sides had already been picked. Harry was one captain, and Cho was the other. It was sure to be interesting.
Snow flew everywhere. No man, woman, or cat was safe. The snow forts that had been constructed were starting to lose shape under the heavy siege of snowballs. Laughter and threats floated through the air, professors were cheering both sides on, and the ghosts were having a fun time distracting the 'warriors' by darting across the battlefield.
"Do you see that, Minerva?" Albus Dumbledore asked from where he stood on the sidelines.
"See what?" Professor McGonagall asked, searching around for what the headmaster was talking about.
He hid a slight grin and pointed. "There. See now?"
She shook her head, still confused.
"Draco Malfoy...Do you see him?" Albus asked.
"I do, but..."
"Look at how he smiles. I do believe there is hope for him yet," He said warmly, his eyes twinkling in the direction of an unaware young teen. 'It's just a matter of who and their means of helping him,' was the thought that surfaced in his mind with the accompaniment of brilliant emerald eyes.
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"Sssso c-c-c-cold..." Harry sat on the floor close to the fire as his teeth chattered rapidly. Everyone was now hanging out in the Great Room where an enormous fireplace and several couches and armchairs had been conjured up.
"Mate, If you keep that up, you're going to have to get your teeth fixed soon," a person said behind him. He nodded and covered his mouth with his hand, but then his body started shuddering.
"For heaven's sakes! Potter, can't you do anything?"
The black-haired teen turned to face an exasperated gaze of stormy grey.
He opened his mouth to retort, but he bite back his insult as Malfoy waved his wand at him. He was about to grab for his wand to stop the oncoming hex when a giant, him.
"W-w-what's th-th-thiss?" Harry asked between the rattling of his teeth as he pulled at one part of it.
"It's a blanket, you arse. Ever seen one before?"
"B-but-t-t-t w-w-why?"
"'Cause your damn shaking was getting annoying!" Malfoy said, scowling. He looked at Potter a few seconds before he 'humph'ed and fell back into the armchair he was in.
Harry tried to glare, but was to cold to manage anything more then a small pout. He turned back to the fire, and with a small smile, hugged the blanket close to him.
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I hope you liked this chapter. I'm actually proud of it, which is major in itself. I have low self-esteem when it comes to my writing. --;; Eh...I guess I'll see ya later.