Happy Easter! And I give you a-a... Well to tell you the truth, a Christmas fic... Now this is a great example of 'a little late' if you ask me...

Warnings - Slash,slight stalker tendencies on the part of theBoy-Who-Lived,and a certain lack of realism... I think it's rather cute...

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter, or anything else, but I'm saving my money to buy the rights to Draco... I have... 75 cents...

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I was up at sunrise, not that you could tell. It was overcast that day and you could barely tell the sun had attempted to rise, the sky was so dark. And on top of that, it was snowing so hard you couldn't make out the clouds that bred the flakes or the lake halfway across the grounds. It was Christmas Break and I had opted to stay at Hogwarts over going to the Burrow to watch Ron and Hermione make out. Honestly, a guy can only take so much.

They deserved their happiness anyway.

There was almost no one staying at school that year, what with the war going on. Everyone seemed to want to spend as much time as possible with their family and friends, in case they never got to see them again. There were two other students left at school, and both of them were orphans like me; some Ravenclaw seventh year who was anal retentive about her studies anyway, and Draco Malfoy.

Now he was a mystery to me. Ever since he'd gotten the letter from the ministry that both his parents had been found dead in Azkaban he'd been so… quiet. He hadn't insulted me; he hadn't made any snide remarks about Neville or the Hufflepuffs. He was just… silent. I asked him once, rudely of course, if he was feeling all right and he just shrugged, refusing to meet my eyes. That just didn't sit well in my mind. The Malfoy I knew always met your eyes, whether he was insulting you or talking about the weather. There was something wrong.

After that incident I told Ron to lay off, telling him that Malfoy deserved some time to grieve for his parents, even if they were worthless gits, and I started to study him. For some reason completely beyond my comprehension I had to know what was wrong, what had made the only dependable thing in my life suddenly disappear, even if it was only the other boy's hatred. Without the constant bickering I felt off, as if I was missing something I needed to survive. Finding out the cause of the sudden silence from my sworn enemy had become an obsession almost, and it remained that way that morning. I took better notes on who Malfoy interacted with, any facial expressions he actually showed, and what he ate then I ever did for any mere class. I remember how proud Hermione had looked when I was writing as much as she was in History of Magic… I didn't have the heart to tell her my notes were on a completely different subject. I refused to tell anyone I was watching him at all. They wouldn't have understood.

I found out a lot of things through observation. I learned that Draco didn't really like sweet foods and that Blaise Zabini was quite possiblly his only real friend. I noticed that when he was bored he would stare out the window and idly doodle Quiddich equipment or magical creatures, and that his sketches weren't half bad. I even observed how his hair gently curled under his jaw bone to frame his face, but the most important thing I learned was that on Sundays and holidays, Draco would go out and stand by the lake near the bushes. That was where I was going that day.

I rolled out of bed and immediately started to root through my trunk for some decent clothes before giving up and shooting into the bathroom to relieve myself, take a quick shower, and to brush my teeth. I was strangely excited about the conflict that was surely going to occur, and it didn't make any sense to me. It was just Malfoy. We used to talk all the time. The words were never nice, but it's not like it was a big deal to speak to the guy, but for some reason I really wanted to see him, and today seemed perfect for the confrontation. Christmas Day and I finally got to find out what was bothering my rival. It was a hell of a gift in my opinion.

I trotted back into my dorm with a towel wrapped around my waist and my hair dripping wet. I grabbed my clothes and started to try to pull them quickly over my thin frame. For some reason I found myself wanting to dress at my best, so I'd picked up a tight black turtleneck and a pair of khaki cargo pants. I ran a brush through my hair, with out much luck, and tugged on my cloak before jumping down the stairs.

As I strode across the common room my eyes scanned across the tree and the gifts under it to rest on a small wrapped package on the mantle piece. My steps faltered and stilled as I stared at the neatly wrapped gift in deliberation. It was something I had bought at random and wrapped to keep Ron from asking awkward questions, but now… now it could have a purpose. He always seemed so lonely… I shook my head vigorously before running over and grabbing the box and rushing out the portrait hole. Draco was a habitually early riser; I had to get out there before he decided to go eat breakfast.

I slowed a few halls from the Gryffindor common room so that I didn't draw any unwanted attention, not that there was any to attract. The portraits were harmless, the teachers were probably sleeping, and there was no one there. I paced determinedly down the corridors with my hands balled in my pockets trying desperately to kill the butterflies that had decided to awake in my stomach. I realized that even after all the notes I'd taken on him, I couldn't predict his reaction to me trying to talk to him. His behavior was completely unpredictable when I was involved. Well, not completely, it would probably involve insults and foul language, but I couldn't be sure what he would take as an insult coming from my mouth, even if he would have taken it plainly from anyone else. It was a little depressing for some reason, but it was one of the reasons he fascinated me so much. I wanted to know why.

The halls passed in a blur of nervous thoughts and I found myself blinking in the Entrance Hall staring at the main doors. I gulped quietly as I slowly put a hand forward and pushed the wood outward into the storm. I took a tentative step forward before laughing inwardly and trudging down the steps into the steadily deepening snow. There was nothing to be nervous about, it was only Malfoy.

I hadn't really taken the snow into consideration when I'd gotten up that morning, even if I had noticed it was there. It was at least two feet deep and terribly wet, but at least I could tell he really had gone out that morning, and was yet to return to the castle. There was a single trail leading down to the lake.

I followed his footsteps idly, taking a slow, deep breath of the frigid air. This was staring to feel like it had been a very bad decision. Nothing would come of it, except maybe a black eye and a cold, but thanks to my stubborn pride there was no turning back. Sure, no one else would ever know what I'd planned if I didn't tell them, but I don't think I could have looked at myself in the mirror if I didn't go through with the idea, as irrational as it may have been.

I glanced up from my meandering and froze in my tracks. There he was, standing by the lake with his face turned toward the sky and his arms outstretched and his eyes tightly closed, his lips whispering words I couldn't hear above the wind. He was right in front of me, the subject of all my wonderings, with the snow swirling around him, seeming to guard him from the rest of the world.

"Draco…" A whispered voice left my lips while my mind blinked in surprise. My body moved forward on its own until it was right behind him, leaving my mind behind so my thoughts could chase their tails, as my arms reached around the slightly smaller boy to wrap securely around his waist and pull him close to my chest.

Just as quickly, he pulled away and a look of surprise and fright passed over his features. As he twirled the wind caught his cloak, letting it billow theatrically before resting around his thin body. I watched silently as his lips parted to scream at his assailant, only to close and open again in surprise as all the color drained from his face and his eyes glinted with anger and confusion.

"P-potter?" He managed to choke in a hoarse voice, taking another step back in shock. I let a slight smile pass my lips as I nodded almost unnoticeably. "W-what the hell! What are you d-doing here!"

I took a cautious step forward and raised a hand slowly, unconsciously. "Wondering." I stated in a voice that barely carried above the howl of the wind and snow, pulling my hand quickly away from its chosen course to glare at it as if it'd betrayed me. I watched his face cloud with confusion through my eyelashes as his eyes tried to search my down turned face.

"Wondering, Potter? About what? And what does that have to do with hugging me?" He was quickly regaining his composure, and the emotionless mask I had thought had died with his insults came back to his features, even if his cheeks were tinted a light pink. I glanced down at the ground and shrugged, chucking bitterly at the expression. "And what's so funny, Potter!" He growled, pulling my eyes back to his face. I grabbed the proffered change of subject and ran with it.

"You know," I snickered falsely, "that's the most I've heard you say in weeks." I sighed, relieved, as his closed expression faltered and my heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean by that!" He shouted defensively over one of those sudden gusts of wind that sent a shiver up my spine. The wind, not his anger, I swear. His face was proclaiming his displeasure for the world to see, but when I glanced up into his eyes, they were trying to tell me something… Even as he took an aggressive step forward to try to intimidate me, I could have sworn that his eyes, those swirling silver eyes, were begging me not to back down…

"You thought…" I spoke hoarsely over the wind, trying to ignore the expression my mind had painted behind his facade, "… that I wouldn't notice when you suddenly left me alone? That I wouldn't worry, if only a little, when you stopped insulting me?" I made sure my voice and expression were as cold and closed as his were as I pulled my gaze from his face to stare across the frozen body of water before us, hoping that by some miracle he wouldn't notice the tears welling behind my eyes. His attitude hurt, and badly, but I wouldn't let him see that. I wouldn't let him see that he was making me feel like someone was stabbing 12 gage needles into my heart and laughing perversely at my pain.

"Potter?" I felt, rather than saw him, take a step closer and I closed my eyes as some sort of feeble defense from whatever he had to say. "Potter? What do you mean by—" I heard the annoyed, defensive twinge come back to his voice and twirled around to cut him off.

"You thought I wouldn't miss you!" I shouted, completely ignoring the tears I felt escape my eyes at the confession I hadn't been ready to admit to myself. "Why would you close everyone out like that! You scared me…" I watched his continence pale in shock and darken in anger in rapid succession as I acted like I was staring at the ground. I hoped he hadn't heard that last; he didn't need anymore power over me.

"Why do you care, Potter! Is this another one of your games, or is it your bloody hero complex! It's not like we've ever been friends!" He screamed, taking his turn to turn away and stare over the lake to attempt to hide the hurt his voice had betrayed.

I stepped up close behind him on impulse and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, gently turning him back to face me. "How do you know we couldn't be?" I whisperedwhile I stared in utter fascination into his eyes that swirled with so much emotion as his features softened at my quiet words. My hand moved on it's own to brush his pale cheek, and this time I didn't stop it, but watched in amazement as his eyes fluttered closed. He was… beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful, the most amazing thing I'd ever seen in my life. How come I never noticed?

"Because you never gave me a chance." He breathed, the words not even really carrying to my ears as I read his lips. I noticed for the first time how his breath turned to steam when it left his slightly parted lips.

"And you gave up so easily?" I chuckled back, smiling softly as his eyes blinked open in surprise. "I thought 'Malfoys' always get what they want." I felt a sly grin spread across my face as his eyes clouded with amusement and false anger.

"Not funny, Potter. You hated me and I couldn't see what I could do about it. Some things never change…" He trailed off bitterly, letting his eyes sink to the white earth beneath our feet and tears rise unbidden to his eyes.

"And some things do. Would I be here if I hated you?" I inquired, my expression turning serious as I gently guided his gaze into my own, trying to force my point into his head through his eyes. "Do you really give up so easily?"

"Only when it's hopeless." His voice shook and his eyes glistened with the cruel tears that exposed him as he turned away. "And you should hate me. You don't know who I am, Potter. You don't know what I've done." The acidic words drifted through the wind and I watched, helpless, as the salty liquid slid unobtrusively down his smooth face.

"I would…" I choked, moving close behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist protectively. "…if you would tell me." My other arm snaked around his body to rest crossing his chest and grasping his shoulder securely. I let my forehead rest against his neck, pulling him as close as I could. His breath hitched.

"P-potter!" He stuttered, his voice reverberating through his body and into mine while he stood, frozen, in my arms. He was so warm…

"Hmm?"

"What do y-you think you're d-doing?" His voice wavered. I peered up at his wide eyed expression and pink tinted cheeks.

A small smile spread across my face when I spoke, whispered really, one word. "Hoping." His brow furrowed softlywhile a slight tremor ran through his body. I watched his Adams Apple bob as he gulped and tried to glare at my arms. His curiosity got the better of him.

"F-for what?" His voice just as soft as my ownwhile we stood there, shivering in the snow.

I rested my chin on his shoulder and gazed off into the swirling white abyss for a long time trying to think of an answer, slowly beginning to realize I wasn't exactly sure.

"Everything." I spoke slowly, pulling away from the warm body in front of me regretfully and reaching into my cloak. "For a chance." I continued, feeling a frown cross my features as he watched suspiciously while I searched my pockets. I grasped the small wrapped box and pulled it from the depths of an elusive inside pocket with a shaking hand. I held it out to the pale boy in front of me slowly; hoping the last words that I felt needed somehow to be said would be lost in the storm. "For you…"

He took the box carefully into his thin fingers and neatly peeled the colored paper off, tucking it into his cloak. His hands trembled as he flipped up the lid. He stared at the contents for a long time; first in shock, then in suspicion, followed closely by anger before his face softened into an expression I didn't recognize, a small, shy smile gracing his lips. I forgot how to breathe. He pulled the silver Celtic ring from the package and slid it on his finger chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

"How did you manage to get one that fits me, Potter?" He grinned mischievously through the curtain of white blonde hair hiding his face, those damned, stunning silver eyes glinting in what could only be described as amusement.

HPHPHPHPHP

Well, there you have it. I think it's even a cliff hanger... I hope it's not as... unrealistic as it seems to me, but if it is, as long as y'all like it it's fine.

Next chapter you'll find out just how exactly Harry got Drac's ring size, and I think it's kinda funny myself.

Mind, there'll only be a next chapter if someone says they like this, so be so kind and press the little button no one seems to agree on the color of and leave a review... It doesn't have to be long or anything, just there... Please? I'll take flames! But if you leave a stupid one on Slash hating I'll flame the flame. Thanks!

Bye

Averon