The two men had spent hours at the coffeeshop, just drinking their hot chocolate in silence, eating their cookies. Staring out of the window as the sun had slowly started to come up. During the night things had seemed so cold, so quiet, but as the hours went by, a layer of snow had formed on the London streets. And every time someone would come out of their house, you could see the sheer joy on their face. The pure, child-like glee as they heard their footsteps on the fresh layer of snow.

Harry hadn't been able to stop smiling, because this is what he had come to London for every year. To see the happiness, to see the smiles on people's faces.

But Draco hadn't seemed to notice much of the beauty outside. He had been lost in own thoughts, and not much seemed to get through to him anymore. So in the end Harry had stopped trying to talk to him, and he had simply sat there with him, hoping it would be enough.

"We should probably go," Draco finally says, after they have finished their coffee and toast. "It's Christmas, and I'm sure you have plans."

"I do," Harry says. "But I'm not leaving until I know you're alright."

Draco opens his mouth to speak, but then he just shrugs, staring down into the empty mug on the table.

"Look, Harry… this has been nice," he finally admits. "I didn't think I would ever… you know, enjoy spending time with you. But it's been nice."

"But?"

"This… this changes nothing. My life is still the same. When we leave this place, you go back to your life, your friends… I go back to nothing."

Harry knows exactly how he feels, but how can he tell him that? How can he tell him that he knows the loneliness, the hole that the war left inside of them that can never be filled. That leaves them feeling cold, constantly. That makes them wake up at night, thinking they are still fighting for their lives?

"There is always something worth living for," he tells him instead, but Draco just rolls his eyes at him. "Look at them, Draco," Harry says, pointing out the window, at a group of kids throwing snowballs at each other, laughing and grinning like they don't have a care in the world. "How can you not…"

"I don't care about them," Draco spits out, but then he sighs. "It just makes it worse, doesn't it? Seeing how happy other people are?"

"Doesn't it give you hope that that could be you one day?"

"Yeah, right," Draco scoffs. "That kind of happiness isn't meant for people like you and me, Potter."

Harry swallows hard, and it seems to make Draco realise just how harsh it words were. Because he looks back at the kids, and he flashes a small, broken-hearted smile.

"I hope you find it one day, Harry. But I'm not…" He sighs, looking for the right words. "I'm sick and tired of waiting for something, or someone…"

"You can't give up," Harry interrupts him, all of the sudden truly feeling like time has run out. Like Draco is about to slip out of his hands, walk out of here and do what he was ready to do last night. "I won't let you."

"We made a deal."

"I don't care."

"Why won't you let me do this?" Draco asks, "You hate me. So what does it matter to you what I do? Just go, be with your friends, celebrate Christmas."

"Come with me," Harry blurts out.

"Where?"

"The Weasley's. They're having a big Christmas dinner."

"I'm sure they'd love to have me," Draco scoffs, already getting up and putting his coat on. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I have to go now."

"Then at least let me walk with you," Harry tries, not ready to give up on him yet.

He follows Draco out of the coffeeshop, and he follows him in silence, the kids' laughter not even getting through to him. All he can hear is Draco's footsteps, and in his mind he is counting them, thinking about them, wondering how many steps there will be before it's his last. How many more steps, how many more minutes?

Harry can feel a panic building up inside of him, because it cannot be that he can't save Draco. There has to be something he can say or do. This can't be the end.

He is about to say something, make a move, anything to try and stop Draco. But before he can say something, they turn the corner and they step into the park.

It looks like a winter wonderland, the grass now covered in a blanket of snow. But that's not what makes them stop and stare. It's the beautiful ice sculptures, which hadn't been there when they had passed the park last night. Surely they would have noticed them.

"Do you think they're…"

"Magic." Draco nods.

They make their way over to the dozens of sculptures, one of them looking exactly like Hogwarts, another a dragon that looks so life-like, that Harry can't help but touch it.

"Did you do this?" Draco asks, turning to face the other man. But Harry shakes his head, speechless at the overwhelming beauty surrounding him. "Then who…"

Before Draco can finish his sentence, a dozen voices can be heard. People are making their way into the park, only now seeing the ice sculptures. They are all talking excitedly, and Harry can't help but wonder who is behind all of this.

But then he notices a young girl standing by a tree, not too far away, and she has the biggest smile on her face. Harry almost wants to go over to her, but just as he's about to, snow begins to fall all around them, the people around him laughing and squealing, unable to keep the smiles off their faces.

"Do you want to go?" Harry asks, still remembering how Draco had told him that it made the hurting worse when he was in the presence of people who were happy. But Draco shakes his head, and a small smile forms on his lips.

"Magic did this."

"Yes." Harry nods, about to point out the girl by the tree, but she's gone now. "It can do good too."

"Do you really believe that could be us?" Draco asks, staring out at the families, laughing and playing in the snow. But then he looks back at Harry, and Harry can see that this is not a throwaway question. He means it. He needs to know.

"I have to believe it." Harry nods. "So do you. We deserve that too, Draco. I know you don't believe it, and I'm still struggling to get there myself, but…" He shrugs his shoulders. "We have to keep looking for it. We can't let him win."

Harry can tell from the look in Draco's eyes that something inside of him has changed. That Harry's words, that his refusal to give up, that him caring, it has finally gotten to him. That he has found new hope for the future.

"Will you go to the Weasley's with me tonight?"

"Are you sure they won't mind?"

"I know they won't," Harry says, before flashing a reassuring smile. He gingerly reaches out for Draco's hand, still half-expecting Draco to mock him for making a move. But Draco carefully grabs hold of his hand, his cheeks flushing pink. This time not from the cold, or from embarrassment. Harry knows that he is feeling that warmth growing in the pit of his stomach too, as they make their way through the fresh snow.

On to a new day. On to a new tomorrow.