A/N: This is a gift for spookywoods in the H/D Owl Post holiday gift exchange. Thank you so much to my beta, Little Ivy.


The cold, foggy December winds nicked Draco's numb cheeks as he flew against it and hunted for the Snitch that Harry had released just to spite him. Harry chased the Snitch, and Draco chased Harry.

Draco leaned into his broom and accelerated at breakneck speed, chasing Harry through the shadows of the Potter signature move of diving into utter chaos in pursuit of the Snitch. He cut through thick fir trees, foggy blindspots, branches whose sole purpose in life seemed to be decapitating benevolent, apologetic boyfriends.

Draco had Apparated to this lonesome cabin in the wilderness to apologize for a poor decision on his part that had, admittedly, been nothing short of horrendously catastrophic. But frankly, at this point, part of Draco wanted a little grovelling from Harry over ruining what could have been the apology of the century.

Harry took a sharp turn and broke clear of the woods—presumably, a sighting of the Snitch.

They bolted toward the tiny cabin they had meant to cozy up in together over Christmas, but Draco's invitation may as well have been rescinded, if Hermione Granger's baffled owl demanding to know why Harry had sunk into a dark mood carried any credence. But Harry had not seemed entirely disappointed to see Draco when he had arrived… When Draco's unexpected Apparation tripped a protective charm, Harry had flung open the door with his wand braced for battle, but upon noticing that only Draco stood on his doorstep, he looked rather aggrieved. Tried. Not disappointed. A worthwhile sign. Draco began to recite the apology he spent all night crafting, which spurred Harry to charge back inside and fetch a Snitch and a broom for a restorative round of avoiding the issue through Quidditch, not even bringing a broom for Draco. He had to conjure one out of a stick.

Harry was the greatest riddle of Draco's life. He hadn't wanted to befriend him in first year. His father had ordered him to keep The Boy Who Lived close and make him an ally, a friend. Draco hadn't understood it as an eleven-year-old, but, in fifth year, the puzzle pieces fell into the realization that his father had plotted to spy on and potentially murder the boy he'd encouraged Draco to turn into a dear friend. Retrospectively, Harry had been smart to reject Draco's hand, but in the narrow corridor of the Hogwarts Express in September of 1991, Draco only had to take one look into those deep green eyes before he hated how cold his lonesome palm felt after Harry made his choice and his choice wasn't Draco.

Today, he really ought to choose Draco.

Soon enough, Harry caught the Snitch and Draco had never been so glad to lose to the Gryffindor Quidditch prodigy.

Harry landed close to the cabin with only thirty steps before the many protective charms cast on the little house cut Draco out from his life.

Draco bolted as fast as his broom allowed. He flew around Harry and halted in midair just in front of him.

He expected glaring, strong words cursed out at him magically or otherwise, but Harry's eyes were red-rimmed.

Draco reached out to him, his cold hand shaking without a mitten to keep it warm. "I have no good explanation, but I am sorry."

Harry rolled his eyes and stomped around the broom.

Draco drifted beside him. "Harry—"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tensing. Draco encouraged himself not to cringe, waiting for the inevitable.

"You left me there!" Harry jerked around to look right at Draco. Angry tears welled in his eyes and streaked down his cheeks. Draco ached to hold him.

"You were just there, then you… I heard a crack, and you were gone. Aunt Petunia opened the door, and I—you were the one who knocked."

Draco looked away, his stomach weighing a thousand pounds.

He had incepted in Harry the idea of extending an olive branch to the Dursleys. He was big on olive branches over the last year. After all, Harry had extended one to him and he'd extended one to his father to spectacular results. As they had walked through the quiet Muggle neighborhood on the way to the Dursleys' house, wishing a good day to an old married couple walking a beagle that took too kindly to sniffing Draco's leg, all Draco could think of was the night Aunt Bella had taken him to a similar neighborhood and taught him the Cruciatus Curse. He had knocked on the door to the Dursleys' home. And right after he had Disapparated to sob underneath a grand oak tree in a nearby park that they had passed on the way over.

"I'm sorry." Draco shook his head as his vision started to blur with tears.

"I don't care if you're sorry," bit out Harry, then roughly ran a hand through his black hair. "I didn't mean—I mean. I'm not angry at you. I hate that you left me." He touched the broomstick. "Look at me."

Draco wondered if Harry's legs counted as looking at him.

He met those vivid green eyes.

"I was frightened," said Draco, grimacing at the thickness in his voice.

"I wish you had told me."

"I know."

Harry held Draco's face, his cold palms and the frigid Snitch in his hand drawing out the warmth in Draco's cheeks.

Harry leaned his forehead against Draco's. "Can we try again?"

"Pardon?"

"Visiting my aunt and uncle, and my cousin Dudley, too, come to think of it. I want to try again."

"You do?"

"I want to see the look on Uncle Vernon's face when I introduce him to my wizard boyfriend who can legally perform magic outside of Hogwarts."

Draco leaned back and peered at him. "Careful. I might get jealous. I thought I was your archnemesis."

Harry shrugged. "I can have more than one. Voldemort"—Draco flinched—"my uncle, you…"

"I feel so much more secure and at ease." Draco smiled lightly, glad to be forgiven, happy that Harry still chose him.

Harry dragged his fingers through Draco's hair and tugged. "Good."

Those lovely green eyes of his didn't look quite so aggrieved anymore.

Draco smirked. "So, we've made up. Can we snog it better or…?"

Harry crashed into him so hard and fast that Draco clung to the broom for dear life, the Snitch bitterly cold against his skin. Harry kissed him like it could keep Draco in his life forever. Draco kissed him back just as hard.