Author's Note:

I felt the need to add the info about Draco as a wizard and about his wand, I feel like this isn't talked about enough (and also because it just fits so well with his internal fight in this story). Just like the fact that wands with a core made of unicorn hair (like Draco's) are the hardest one to turn to Dark Arts, and yet he was able to... love that for my boy haha

Draco closed the envelope containing his letter to Pansy. She had left a week ago now and he had made a point of letting her know how dreadful his time was without her. The next morning, she would discover his gift and his letter, and he hoped she'd get how truly sorry he was for his behavior lately. He couldn't outright spell it out, it was beyong him. Writing "I'm sorry" was too complicated, it would force him to face the secrets he was keeping from her, when he knew everything about her, when she was open and probably wanted nothing more than Draco reciprocating her trust.

He left the Slytherin common room and walked in the dimly lit, cold corridors of the dungeons, until he reached Snape's office. He knocked, which was rather unusual as he was often brusting in.

"Right on time," Snape said when Draco walked in.

"What can I say, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

They both approached a fuming cauldron and Snape filled up the cup for his godson. Draco turned, hearing footsteps from beyond the door, away in the corridor.

"Never mind him," Snape said coolly as Lupin entered the room. Draco still hadn't said a word to his teacher ever since the Boggart incident, and he wasn't planning on changing his mind, even if they were about to be stuck together for the night.

Snape filled a second cup to give to Lupin and they both drank the entirety of the stomach turning potioin. Severus observed them grimace the exact same way, stopping their gag and forcing their bodies to accept the beverage. "You shouldn't waste any more time," Snape commented, more to Draco than to Lupin.

"Yeah, I know, I just need to post something," he said, indicating the envelopes in his hand. He turned right away to leave under Lupin and Snape's gaze.

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said quietly. He handed him back the cup and seemed hesitant to continue. He started turning around but stopped midway, facing Severus again. "Did you get a chance to discuss his Boggart with him?"

"I certainly tried." It was enough to know that Draco hadn't been inclined to having this conversation. Snape had been surprised to see him stand his grounds at the time, even if emotional. He was growing up and he knew that sooner or later, some things were going to become awry. He was still on the lookout for his own identity, for his place in this world, torn between his beliefs and who he had no choice but to be. Decisions were to be made, paths to be taken, and Snape was anxious to witness where they would lead Draco Malfoy.

.

After having sent his letters to Pansy and his parents, he met with Snape again, in front of the castle. They took off without a word. They stopped in front of the huge tree, its branches covered in snow. Draco observed it, the cold biting his cheeks, his nose and ears. He liked the calm of the empty, silent grounds, and feeling the fresh air on his burning skin.

"Well, Merry Christmas I guess," he said. Snape was staring and met Draco's timid gaze, but again, there was no more exchange than this. Draco left for the passage, alone.

Lupin was already inside and every step was leading him to a conversation he didn't want to have, to a transformation he didn't want to live, and to a morning he didn't want to wake up to.

Lupin was obviously waiting for him, as he stood up from the mattress as soon as Draco entered, which only annoyed him more.

"Draco —"

"Don't," Draco interjected. "I'm not sure what gave you the impression that I wanted to talk to you, but I don't. If you think having me cornered in her will change that, you're dead wrong."

Draco sighed and went to stand in his usual corner. Lupin had been very uncomfortable about that, even if he didn't propose the mattress back. Draco didn't seem to care one bit about his comfort, probably because they didn't have any when they turned. Draco mumbled to himself and Lupin heard every word distinctly. "Best Christmas ever..."

"Is it the first time you're spending Christmas here?" Lupin asked, sitting back down. The look Draco gave him was priceless as Lupin was visibly ignoring everything he had just said. He wasn't expecting an answer, but he knew Draco had more pent up anger than conviction. And Draco knew what Lupin was truly asking. It wasn't about his first Christmas at Hogwarts, but about his first Christmas in the Shrieking Shack, his first Christmas turning. "I remember my first one here, it was in my second year. Pretty boring."

"Yeah, well —" Draco started, staring at the wall with unrivaled determination. "Whatever."

Yet, after a minute, he looked back at his professor.

"Did your friends know?" He asked, before he quickly added, "Did you have friends?"

Lupin let out a joyless chuckle because of Draco's tactless and clumsy curiosity. "I had friends, yes, thank you," he said, James, Sirius and Peter flashing through his mind. "Some of them were really smart, too. I didn't tell anyone, they didn't need me to, they figured it out." Draco was looking at him with awe, apparently over his previous feelings about talking to him. "It's a wonder, to me, how no one around you has found out yet," — Draco shrugged, even if he was wondering what excuses his friends were making for him when he disappeared each months — "I thought... Well, I believed they would abandon me. Who would be friend with a monster? Who would want to be around... something like me, when I couldn't even stand myself? But they stayed, they supported me, they helped me as much as they could... I had some great times," he explained, scaring Draco with how similar their experience was. Lupin's loneliness and sadness got a hold of his tone as he continued, "Anyway, we were separated eventually, some time after we left Hogwarts..."

"It's never been the same since, has it?" Draco asked, a shiver going down his spine as he now wished Lupin would meet his eyes, would contradict him.

"It hasn't," his professor agreed, granting him half of his wish, only for Draco to discover all the terror, the doubts and the lassitude his eyes could hold. Just like him, Lupin was lost, didn't know what the meaning of his existence was. What was he living for, if not to suffer? "Nothing can change what wa are, pretending otherwise wouldn't be wise. Lying to ourselves would be foolish, it would only accentuate the pain."

"But facing the truth doesn't make it go away..." Draco said quietly.

"Nothing will."

"Absolutely nothing... wille make us feel any better, will it? Nothing. I've seen your Boggart too, and you face it but... What good does it do, really? You keep saying that you want to help me but —"

"I think we've got an opportunity here, to —"

"— but there's nothing you can do. You want me to talk about my feelings? What good is it gonna do?"

"I just want to bring you piece of mind."

"Oh yeah? How long's it been?" Thirty, thirty-five years?" Draco asked.

"Let's not get carried away... I was bitten twenty-eight years ago."

"Well you look forty." Lupin was visibly shaken by the words but knew how true they were, and what it meant to the boy. Lupin was a reflection of his future and his fears. "Is there... is there anything, in twenty-eight years, that you've been looking forward to? 'Cause it's been four years and personnally, I still haven't found anything."

Lupin didn't even have to think about it. "Maybe it won't be much to you, but I'm happy here, at Hogwarts. I get to teach and call it a home. It's more than I've ever had these last few years. I just wish you could find something like that."

"That's not your place, you can't just waltz in here and get to play the hero, trying to rescue me from my own life."

"That's not what I..." Lupni began, looking away. The gravity of Draco's words was shaking him to the core, and the boy suddenly seemed more mature than he should be. He knew why, of course. Still. He stood up. He wouldn't be defeated. "I can't be a hero, I'll never be a hero. I don't want to be a hero. And I don't want to be yours. I can't force you to look for something you're constantly running away from. I just want you to understand that you can also let it come to you. You don't have to push everybody around, or away for that matter. It just... kills me, having to sit back and watch you go through all the pain I've experienced."

"It kills you? It kills you? Well me too. People keep asking me how I'm doing and I say that I'm fine, but that's only what they need to hear. They don't need me to complain, they need to think they've done everything they could, and that they've helped. It doesn't matter if they genuinely want to, because they know they can't. You know you can't. You can't reassure me either, so I won't reassure you. I'm done doing that. I'm done." He had to pause, his breath shaky as he tried to hold the last bits of his composure. "And now, only now, you wake up and you look forward to work... Well, when I wake up, I wish I was dead."

Stunned, Lupin didn't dare say anything else. He could barely allow his breath to join Draco's, he could barely allow himself to be in this room. The boy walked back, resting against the wall, slowly falling to the floor, tears rolling down his face. He couldn't stop hsi sob, his chin from shaking, his body from abandonning the fight.

It took a while for him to calm down, to try and catch his breath, to wipe his tears with the sleeves of his jumper. His cheeks had the reddish tint of his panic, his forehead the sweat of his anger, and his eyes the desolation of his internal ordeal. He pulled on his turtleneck and Lupin finally approached, hearing how chaotic his breathing still was. Draco tried to fight Lupin's hands away but his professor had no problem grabbing Draco's. They were wet with tears, weak with his fatigue, and Lupin slowly, easily brought them down to the floor. "It's alright. Just... Breathe, slowly, take one big gulp," he said, inhaling deeply himself. He exhaled with Draco, and they did it a couple more times. "Just like that... Keep going," he encouraged him. Draco closed his eyes, the back of his head resting against the wall as he kept on going with the exercise.

He wasn't opening his eyes again and for a brief instant, Lupin thought Draco had fallen asleep. But the boy finally hung his head, his hair hiding his eyes. Lupin saw tears crashing on the wooden, dusty floor, and he softly placed his hand on Draco's head. "Just breathe," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," Draco let out, the words strangled in a noisy sob.

"Don't be," Lupin said, pressing his head, "don't ever be. Just breathe."

.

When Lupin woke up, the light was filling the room already. He noticed the snow that had made its way through one of the broken windows, leaving its traces on the window sill and on the floor. He closed his eyes again, so tired. So very tired. He fell back asleep, for thirty minutes or so, before he woke with a start. He looked around the room, surpriseed to discover Draco in his corner. The boy was alrady dressed, sitting at the exact same place as the night before. It was almost as if they — as if he hadn't turned. If only.

Lupin grabbed his clothes, put them back slowly on his aching body. As usual, he was wondering how he would have the strenght to make it back to the castle. But he knew he would, somehow, just like he had always managed. Once dressed, he approached Draco.

"How are you?" He asked, and he was reassured when Draco gave him the smallest smile ever. "Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten all my chocolate in my room..." Draco's smile widened ever so slightly. Lupin held out his hand and, after considering the offer, Draco grabbed it. He got up, pushing himself more than Lupin managed to pull him off the floor, and the weird pair went down the passage.

"Are you going to join the others for Christmas?" Lupin asked after a few minutes of walking in silence. Draco shrugged at first, before he articulated a few words, hoarse.

"I don't think I will…"

"Make sure you eat something, alright?" Draco glanced, understanding right away what he meant.

"I'm not skipping meals to avoid you," he muttered, "it's just… You know, I've always got to catch up on my work…" He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Lupin.

"As a matter of fact, I have been meaning to ask you if you were managing, this year? I know that you have more work than before."

"I'm doing alright, I'm not that bad of a student…"

"So I've heard, and so you've proven in my class," Lupin said. Draco couldn't help his grin. Getting everything out of his chest the day before, pronouncing words he never thought he could reveal, had eased his mind. He felt better than he had in months. Lupin smiled at this. Draco, if you really didn't mind his behavior, was actually a very good student. Lupin had asked about him at the start of the year, after learning about his condition, and even Minerva McGonagall had to admit, he was making progress faster than most of the other students. Lupin had rarely seen her lips so thin as when she talked about some of his talents, like when he had successfully used the Serpensortia spell in his second year. Even Lupin knew this wasn't something students were learning before their sixth year, so he was showing a great leavel at Transfiguration from the get-go. Lupin hadn't exactly been surprised. While he didn't know much about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and while they were on the wrong side of the first war, he knew they were great wizards themselves, and he had Severus by his side too. Also, Draco's wand itself was proof of his level. You wouldn't give a wand made of hawthorn to any wizard passing by. The wandmaker Gregorovitch himself had a great deal to say about hawthorn wands, writing that they "make a strange, contradictory wand, as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth, whose leaves and blossoms heal, and yet whose cut branches smell of death", while Ollivander had himself said that "hawthorn wands may be particularly suited to healing magic, but they are also adept at curses, and it has been generally observed that the hawthrorn wand seems most at home with a conflicted nature, or with a witch or wizard passing through a period of turmoil." How fitting. Lupin kept observing the boy, who was walking before him, quite curious about him and his nature.

They didn't say anything else until they reached the castle. As it was mostly empty, and as the few students left would only be waking up to discover their gifts, they were free to go together to the hospital, as slowly as they wanted — and as fast as they were capable of.

"So… about that bloody Boggart," Draco said quietly before he cleared his throat. "You told Snape about it."

"Well… I knew you wouldn't talk to me about it, I just thought that maybe you would talk to him. Did it bother you that much?"

"No, not really," Draco conceded, "he would have heard about it anyway. Everyone did." He looked down at his feet. The Boggart was showing people their worst fear, he didn't have to be so ashamed about it, but he just couldn't help it. "Do you talk about me a lot?"

"With Severus?" He asked, a smile appearing on his face. "I think you are well aware that your Professor doesn't like me very much." He could have sworn Draco had smiled at those words. "I told you, I was worried, I just wanted to make sure you had someone around that you could trust, since you don't trust me."

"I trust you," Draco said too quickly, reporting his attention to the framed walls, as the portaits suddenly seemed fascinating.

"You're just not fond of having me around, is that it?"

Very fascinating indeed.

They reached the hospital and Madam Pomfrey hurried towards them. She brought Draco to his usual bed, in the back of the room. A self-filling tray of food was already prepared on his bedside table and his pajamas were at the end of the bed, waiting for him. As she gestured towards another bed for Lupin, he slightly raised a palm to stop her.

"Oh, it's quite alright Poppy," he said, "I think I'll will regain my office."

"You're not staying?" Draco inquired before Madam Pomfrey could insist for him to stay.

"I'll rest in my room, it's alright… I'll get out of your way now," he said, addressing Poppy Pomfrey again.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Professor," Draco let out quietly.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," Lupin said. He gave him a warm smile. Draco tried to reciprocate, but it came out more as a grimace than anything else.

He bit into a pain au chocolat as he watched Lupin and Madam Pomfrey argue all the way back to the doors about how Lupin should stay in the hospital. Ultimately, she accepted her loss and let him leave. She was back near Draco in a second, making sure he was eating as much as he could before inspecting him for any injury, despite Draco's protests. When she was done, she closed the long curtains around his bed with a wave of her wand and he changed. Finally under the covers, his head sunking into the comfortable pillow, Draco wanted to recall everything they had told each other the night before. He didn't have the time though, as he fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

.

For lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione were surprised to discover the Great Hall rearranged. Given how many students were left, they were going to eat at the same table as the teachers, in the center of the room. They went to sit down and Hernione noticed directly that something was off. Draco and Lupin weren't there. Hermione knew why, obviously, but it was still such an obstacle to her reason. It was still so hard to believe. A few hours ago, they had been in their other form, incredibly dangerous, and wandering who knew where. In the Forest, maybe? And now, where were they? She didn't want to ask Harry to check his map, as he didn't want to make him suspicious of anything.

To Hermione's surprise, it wasn't Harry who brought up Lupin's whereabouts at the table but Professor Trelawney. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on her plate when she heard Dumbledore say that he was sick. She held a sigh in when he commented about how unfortunate it was to be happening on Christmas Day.

"So, is Draco Malfoy sick too?" Harry asked. Hermione glanced at him only to catch a glimpse of Snape who was staring at her friend.

"Yes, Potter, he obviously is," Snape said rather coldly, instead of letting Dumbledore answer. "I didn't know you cared about your classmate," he added. Harry didn't correct him, not in front of the other teachers.

That's when Snape noticed Hermione's stare. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away, turning pink on the spot.

.

Draco's owl had been knocking its beak on the window for a while now, when Draco finally awoke. He yawned loudly and sat up, his entire body aching. He heard voices on the other side of the room but he didn't pay any particular attention to them. He streched and finally realized that his owl was there, still fighting the glass. He fell back on the mattress, incapable of convincing himself to get up and open the window. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the noise, and started to drift away once more. If only the noise wasn't growing louder… His eyes shot open when the curtains around his bed were drawn away. Confused, he looked at Madam Pomfrey as he pushed pushed himself up a bit.

"Would you look at this, Mister Malfoy, it looks like somebody really wanted to see you for Christmas," Madam Pomfrey said. Finally, Draco realized that someone was standing behind the matron. When she stepped sideways, his eyebrows shot up as he discovered Hermione. She had a little smile on her face, and a plate in her hands.

Between that and Madam Pomfrey allowing a visitor in, especially when he was resting, he had to wonder if he was dreaming. But he wasn't, and Granger was truly standing there, Granger had really dared ask Madam Pomfrey if she could visit him.

Madam Pomfrey walked away, reminding that Hermione only had five minutes. Still very surprised, Draco could only ask, "What are you doing here?"

Hermione's smile was a bit strained, but did grow slightly larger. "Well, Professor Dumbledore said you were sick during lunch, and since it's Christmas… I thought maybe you needed some company, and some food," she explained. She showed him the plate, as if he hadn't noticed it, as if to reinforce her justification. He glanced down at the food, chipolatas, and he looked at her again. "Dumbledore says they are excellent and I have to say, I agr —"
"I already told you, Granger, I don't need pity from you," Draco said shortly. Hermione looked down at her plate, forcing herself not to regret coming in here.

"It's not pity, get over yourself. I just thought it'd be nice," she said. When he glanced at her, he saw that she was hurt. Weird. She would always stand up to him, she would never look offended, she would never let him see. Maybe it was all her anxiety, she did look tired too. He felt the need to ask her to sit down, but he just couldn't.

"When did we enter nice territory?" He asked. "And where are your boyfriends? Do they know you're here?"

"Of course they don't," Hermione said quickly, disregarding the "boyfriend" part of his jab.

"Of course they don't," Draco repeated quietly, not mocking her, he was just annoyed.

Hermione looked at the window, noticing that his owl was still behind it, even if it wasn't knocking anymore. She put down the plate on Draco's bedside table and approached the window.

"Maybe you shouldn't…"

Hermione didn't listen and opened the window. The owl directly flew in and Hermione had to duck to dodge the owl and the package it was bringing Draco. The animal landed next to Draco and Hermione observed her.

"It's a lot bigger than I thought," she said quietly.

"Yeah, well, don't approach her," Draco said, busy trying to take the package away from the owl but she seemed to be putting up a fight. "Come on now, behave," he mumbled through his teeth and finally, the owl listened.

"Why shouldn't I approach?" Draco smirked, now opening his package.

"She's trained," he sniggered and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Are you kidding me?"

Draco nodded quickly, still finding himself very funny. "But she doesn't like people outside of the family, so…" Finally, he got to the contents of his package. It was full of sweets, mainly apple-flavored. "But you know, if you want to touch it, it'd give me a good laugh."

"Right. Nice pajamas, by the way," she said in response. The blueish ensemble he was wearing obviously belonged to the hospital.

Draco's cheek became warm and he gave part of a biscuit to his owl. It finally flew out of the window. Hermione closed it, as the cold wind was already making her shiver, and she approached the bed again.

"Is that what you got for Christmas?" She asked with a doubtful look towards the package.

"'Course not. I just… slept here," he lied, and Hermione knew, and she couldn't meet his eyes, "so I haven't got to open my gifts yet. But Mother always sends me sweets."

"Lupin's not here?" She then asked, looking around at all the empty beds.

"What?" Draco asked directly. He was midway into opening a small packet of Fizzy Wizzy but he and his thoughts had come into a screeching stop. His heart was racing and he looked at Hermione, incredulous. Hermione noticed his expression and she became another shade of pink.

"Dumbledore said he was here, too," she quickly said.

"He left before I woke up, then, he shrugged, "why do you care anyway?"

"Well… If he's also been spending Christmas here, I mean… I would have liked seeing him, at least."

"Yeah, alright," Draco said shortly, somehow vexed that she visibly didn't want to only visit him. In his opinion, she was suddenly being way too nice with people she didn't talk to on a daily basis. "He's probably back in his office, you can go," he said, focusing on the packet again.

"But I came to see you. I was just surprised that he wasn't here," Hermione said with a shrug and she sat on the bed, as if invited to do so. Even if shocked, Draco didn't say anything, he just watched as she gave a curious glance at the content of his package. He looked at the food she had brought him.

He abandoned the Fizzy Wizzy and grabed the plate. He smelled it and gave it a suspicious look.

"I told you, they don't know I'm here, they're not trying to poison you," Hermione commented with an amused smile.
"Well, even if they wanted to, I doubt they'd be capable of anything. They're disasters in Potions," he said. "But you…"

"I'm not trying to kill you, Malfoy. Do you think you're really worth the effort?" Draco shot her a nasty glance.

He was starving again. He knew he could simply ask Madam Pomfrey for something to eat and he would have whatever he'd choose. However, the meat in front of his eyes was tempting and he had a stange and warm feeling in his stomach thinking that Hermione had brought it up here only for him.

"What did you tell them you were doing, then?" He asked distractedly as he tasted a chipolata. Dumbledore was right, they were excellent.

"Studying," she shrugged.

"On Christmas day? What if they don't believe you and go look for you in the library?"

"On Christmas day?" Hermione asked too with a cute little smile that made Draco's stomach twitch again. He decided to ignore the feeling. "Trust me, they wouldn't set a foot anywhere near that place today," she chuckled and Draco smiled slightly.

"Still, I don't get why you wanted to see me."

"I told you, I thought it'd be nice for you to have some company for Christmas."

He sighed pretty heavily. "You don't get it, do you?" He asked more seriously, as if she was a child. "My real question is, since when are you nice to me, Granger? Maybe I do need to spell ouf my drifts, turns out," he said, trying not to laugh at the look she gave him. It was like with her notebook. He thought it was pity then, too. But what about the beginning of the year, when she had asked if he was sick? She had actually looked worried. Nah, he was probably imagining it. Hermione might be a nice person, she couldn't just be worried about people bothering her on the daily. She couldn't be that nice.

"I don't know, we talked a bit and… I feel like you actually can behave, when you want to," she said, not really capable of explaining herself why she hadn't been able to resist this visit. She did like to believe anyone could be good, she liked to see the best in people, and with their conversations, she did hope that Draco might start to change his behavior.

"So you thought that we were… becoming friends or something? Because we've had two civilized conversations?" He said those words with a higher-pitched voice to impersonate Hermione. "You're pretty naive, then. Probably because you're still a child," he said dissmissively.

"We're the same age, Draco. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm older than you," Hermione said, unimpressed.

"Doesn't mean we don't see things differently," he said. Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "What?"

"You're… funny," she said, watching him put the empty plate back on the bedside table.

"How is it that you laugh when I'm serious, but you don't when I'm actually joking?" He asked, perplexed.

"Because what you think is funny is usually mean. If your friends weren't around, you'd be the only one to laugh."

"Then what's funny now?" Draco asked.

"You acting all tough and mature."

"Oh, so I'm the joke, is that it?" He asked, his dramatic side back on, making Hermione laugh again. She kept smiling as she nodded. "Stop that. Stop taunting me, I'm sick."

She clasped her hand on her mouth in fake surprise. "But I thought you weren't! Somebody should tell Madam Pomfrey…"

"Yeah, you go tell her, she'll throw you out herself, you've been way longer than five minutes." He shooed her with his hand. "Out, now."

"Well, Merry Christmas, jerk," she said as she stood up, satisfied with herself. The look her gave her only made her smile more broadly and she started to walk away.

"Granger," Draco called out. She turned, just in time to catch what Draco had thrown in her direction. "I hate those," he lied. And as Hermione examined the pack of Sour Apple Bites, she knew he lied. "Merry Christmas."