Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Author's Notes: Once again, these are written each day for the Livejournal's AWDT Christmas quickies. This is days 8-14 and I hope you like them.

Merry Christmas everyone.

jamie

xxxx

'If you boys don't mind, I'd like to take a break from the story telling,' Draco said, standing. 'I have some business to complete before Gringotts closes for the day.' His business with Gringotts could actually wait, but Draco needed the time to consider very carefully how he portrayed Al's mother in this story. He didn't doubt that she was a good mother and that Al loved her very much. However, Draco knew his opinion of her was coloured mainly by her role in his affair with Harry and, as such, he was hard pressed to find anything charitable whatsoever to say about her. Which meant a certain amount of revising if he didn't want to start a war.

'You still haven't told us about the blue sleigh,' Scorpius argued.

Draco sighed. 'I said I would and I will. It's not as simple as it might seem.' Draco wasn't even sure he would have the courage to tell the story without letting all the emotions of that time overwhelm him. Not for the first time he doubted his decision, but it was one he'd made with good intentions and he would see it through, even if it made him look like the biggest idiot in the world.

As it was, all the old feelings were resurfacing. The self-doubt, the thought that no matter what he did it was never going to be enough, and the resentment that followed the pain of rejection. It was all still bubbling away under the surface, no matter that he'd thought he'd moved on from that.

'You'll tell us the rest over dinner?' Scorpius asked.

'I will if you're both here,' he agreed. 'How about you take all your new furniture to the flat and set it up?'

'Good idea.' Scorpius grinned at Al. 'You can try out the new bed and all.'

'I have to fix it first,' Al replied, grinning back. 'And when I have it looking perfect you'll be wishing you'd chosen it instead,' he taunted.

'Not likely,' Scorpius scoffed and cuffed Al's shoulder. 'I love my bed. You should try it out some time and then you'll see how good it is. So much better than your mouldy old thing.'

'I don't want to hear about you two in bed,' Draco said laughing, and then stopped and blushed. 'That came out the wrong way, sorry. I'll…err…see you both at dinner, then.'

Both boys were chuckling as Draco quickly left before his mouth could get him into any more trouble.

….

The streets of the city were paved in cobblestones and Harry felt like he was back in some of the older streets of London, which wasn't surprising, as the city had been built in colonial times and thus modeled on 'home'. It brought with it more feelings of homesickness and missing his family, although the weather was balmy and warm, a far cry from England's weather.

One thing that still permeated this culture was the desire for 'traditional' Christmas ornaments. Hence each shop front was decorated with the familiar shiny baubles and brightly coloured tinsel. Every shop window had a tree, albeit a plastic one covered with blinking lights and topped by a fairy, or angel, or in some cases a star. They mostly all carried the red and white striped peppermint candy canes that Ginny and Lily loved so much and he'd stopped at a shop earlier to purchase a box. Silly really, because he could buy them at home and at a lot cheaper price than here, but for some reason it made him feel closer to home.

He'd also managed to purchase some flimsy sarong thing for Lily, as promised. Brightly coloured and definitely not suitable for winter in England, or summer for that matter, he knew she'd love it. He might make her wear heavy robes over it though; it was quite revealing.

As he strolled down the street, trainers silent on the cobblestones, he vowed that no matter what, he would be home for Christmas. It was too important to him to miss.

That was right before something whacked him on the back of the skull and everything went black.

***

Part of the story that Draco also refused to tell the boys about was the physical side of his relationship with Harry. Draco had never discussed his physical relationship with Scorpius' mother with him, nor any of those he'd had since the divorce fifteen years ago, and he wasn't going to start now.

But the storytelling had reminded him how passionate they had been, and how Draco had discovered to his immense joy, just how possessive Harry could be.

Their evening at the Weasleys had been fraught with tension and distaste – on both sides. He didn't like the Weasleys and they certainly had no time for him. They'd actively encouraged Harry to resume dating Ginny, right in front of him! While Harry had told them time and time again that he was dating Draco, they'd basically ignored him and continued to insert little comments into the conversation. As if it was a done deal – that Harry would come to his senses because they said so and he would fall into line.

Draco had sat there and taken their abuse and snide comments politely – for Harry – but he had become furious that Harry refused to stop them from continuing. He'd treated it as a joke, but Draco had known how deadly serious they were.

By the end of the evening, not only had Draco been angry, but he'd also come to the conclusion that maybe they were right, maybe it was just a passing phase and Harry would tire of him and do what was expected of him.

…

'I don't think we should see each other for a while, Harry,' Draco said after they'd Apparated to the front of Draco's home. It would be difficult, but he needed space after being treated with so little respect.

'What are you talking about?'

Draco looked up at Harry, seeing the confusion in his face but Draco was too angry to care.

'Exactly what I said. I need space away from you and perhaps you need time to think what you really want.' Draco was barely holding on to his temper. He was wary of giving it free reign because he might say something that made their relationship break irreparably, and if he was going to lose Harry after all then he'd rather it not be because he'd fucked up.

'What I really want?' Harry repeated. He looked at Draco, clearly hurt as well as confused. 'I don't understand. I want you.'

'It certainly didn't look like it to me,' Draco snapped.

'When? I told them I was dating you, what more do you want?' Harry ran his hand through his hair and even though Draco was angry with him; the action still pulled on Draco's desire.

'They just kept on and on and you never told them to stop. They didn't respect your decision and you didn't respect me.' Draco bit his lip to stop from adding anything further.

'So this is all about me not wanting to create a scene with the only family I have?' Harry's voice was calm and collected and, Draco knew, more dangerous than if it was angry.

Draco glared at him, finally letting go some of his anger. 'No, this is about letting me sit there and be a victim all over again. You let them make me feel less than the dirt under your shoes, you let the ginger snog you in front of me and you…' he took a deep breath, 'you made me feel like a cheap piece of nothing that you would discard on a whim.'

He was shaking by the time he finished his speech, cursing that he'd opened his mouth at all, but he'd behaved; he'd not hexed anyone or been rude or made derogatory comments about the hovel they lived in.

'Draco…' Harry warned but Draco stopped him.

'I did what you said. I was civil. Not one insult passed my lips all night. I did that for you, Harry. I told you I wasn't going to like your friends and I don't, but I was the one who made the effort tonight. They…'

Draco found himself shoved against the wall, Harry's lips barely a hairs breath away; his body pressing in interesting places. He tried to squirm out and away, tried to shove Harry back, but was pinned too effectively.

'Maybe you deserved it. Maybe after all the shit you've pulled over the years you deserved to be treated badly for a change.'

'If you think that, Potter then you're not the man I thought you were and it only firms my decision that we not see each other.' Draco sneered as best he could at Harry.

'Oh no, you're mine and I'm not letting you go. Ginny and the Weasleys be damned. They need time to adjust so you'll just have to put up with it, but I will tell them in simple terms that they are to leave you be.'

Harry's leg was insinuated between Draco's thighs and making rather distracting movements against Draco's groin. Draco could only nod his agreement, because the rush of blood south seemed to have affected the functioning of his brain. He was still angry at the way he'd been treated, but fuck Harry felt good covering his body and rubbing against him.

Draco reached up and threaded his fingers through Harry's silky hair, planning on pulling him the final distance separating their lips, but Harry beat him to it and kissed him instead. Almost instantly Draco's knees shook with the intensity of the kiss. It was possessive, as if Harry was trying to crawl inside Draco's mouth and brand every tooth, ridge and crevice so Draco never forgot to whom it belonged. And he thought he never would.

At Draco's soft moan, Harry began seriously rubbing against him, hands at Draco's hips holding him in place.

'Shit,' Draco breathed as he arched and rocked in time with Harry's increasingly frantic thrusting. He wanted to touch Harry everywhere and his hands were frantic, sliding down Harry's back to his arse and gripping it as if he were afraid Harry would leave him desperate and aching to come.

'I'm still bloody angry with you,' Draco ground out from between gritted teeth, and aimed a particularly hard thrust back into Harry's groin.

'But you look like the sexiest angel I have ever seen in my life,' Harry panted back and kissed Draco into silence, where he even forgot to be angry as he was physically overcome by his orgasm when it shot through him in a burst of sunshine.

Draco clung to Harry as he rode it out, body trembling and knees shaking. He breathlessly flopped back against the wall, whispering 'yes, come on, Harry,' while Harry ground into him, finally tensing and coming several seconds later.

When they had both recovered, Harry kissed him with some tender regard, which made Draco feel loved. Perhaps he'd been a bit hasty.

'I'm sorry, Draco,' Harry whispered against his lips. 'I'll make it up to you, I promise.'

'You'd better,' he replied, kissing Harry again. 'I don't take too kindly to being treated like that.'

'I know, I'm sorry, I just…well that's just how they are and they're family, you know?'

'I do know and that's why I was prepared to be civil, but it's a two way street and if ginger comes on to you like that again, I'll find a nasty hex–'

'I don't want her, I am with you, I want you,' Harry insisted.

Draco smiled, reassured.

…

Slowly and with a headache that throbbed so loudly behind his eyes even his toes ached from it, Harry woke up. He blinked several times to clear his vision before he realised his glasses were gone, so it was bound to be pointless.

He was seated in a chair and bound to it by something invisible. A wizard, then, he thought. He squinted as he peered around the room trying to gauge what sort of place he was in. From what he could deduct, he was in some sort of large shed with piles of boxes all around and a desk in the corner, only a few feet from where he was tied up. There were lots of pictures stuck on the wall behind the desk and Harry noticed a Christmas postcard with near naked men on it wearing nothing much. At least he thought they were men, they could have been bears for all he knew. Or donkeys.

He sighed and waited for the inevitable arrival of his captor.

***

Albus and Scorpius Apparated to the back alley behind their block of flats in London, carrying several small packages of the furniture purloined from the Malfoy attic. The alley was dimly lit, but not seedy.

'Hey, it's snowing,' Scorpius said, turning his face into the lazily falling flakes.

Al looked at him and smiled. Scorpius was wrapped up in a warm fur-lined coat, with a matching hat covering his blond hair. Standing there with his face turned skywards, he looked…Albus sighed…bloody kissable. 'You look like you've never seen snow before,' he said, teasing.

'It doesn't often snow in the middle of London,' he argued, sticking his tongue out to catch the flakes.

Albus winced at the sight of his best friend's pink tongue. It was hardly fair that he should have fallen for someone so gorgeous. And someone who was his best friend - his straight best friend. Although he could certainly see why his father had found Scorpius' father attractive; the good looks clearly ran in the family. Al acknowledged ruefully that he was a lot like his father after all.

'Yeah, well I bet it won't hang around long so enjoy it while you can. I'm heading in to set up this furniture.'

'All right, I'm coming,' Scorpius grouched, and followed Al around the corner and through the entrance into the flats. 'Hey, what you do think of what dad told us?' he asked as they climbed the stairs to their first floor flat.

'Was certainly a shock, that's for sure. When he first told us I had to do some quick calculating to make sure it was before he married mum.'

'I never even thought about that,' Scorpius said, surprised.

'No, well James is a couple of years older than us so I just…' he paused '…wanted to make sure, you know?'

'Yeah. What would you have done if…?'

Al shrugged. 'I guess it really doesn't matter anyway; it was all so long ago. What good would it have done to make a fuss?'

'Well, I suspect he wouldn't have told us, had there been any impropriety about it.'

Al unlocked the door and pushed it open. 'True,' he said. 'I still wonder what the sleigh has to do with anything.'

Scorpius entered the flat and grinned. 'I told you it would be some soppy thing. They probably went for a romantic ride in it or something. As long as he doesn't tell us about them having sex…'

They both looked at each other, horrified. 'Oh, no, don't you even…' Al shuddered. 'The last thing I want to hear about is my dad having sex!'

'Me either. Though it does make you wonder what having sex with a bloke would be like.'

Al snorted; he thought about that all the time. 'You can't honestly tell me that you haven't wondered before now? Your dad started seeing men after he divorced your mother.'

Scorpius scrunched up his nose and it looked so cute Al wanted to kiss him.

'Maybe I just refused to think about it.'

'Keep it that way, mate,' Al insisted. 'Kids are not meant to know their parents have sex. It's a rule or something.'

Scorpius laughed. 'Fair enough. You unpack your mouldy old bed and I'll scrape up some coffee or something.'

'There should still be some, I brought some over the other day when we moved your mountains of furniture in.'

It was a nice flat, in a fashionable part of London. Two bedrooms, bath, kitchen and a large, open lounge room that held Albus' favourite part of the whole flat – huge full-length glass doors that opened onto a small balcony. It overlooked a well-tended garden that would be wild with flowers during the spring and summer. He had visions of warm evenings sitting out there, enjoying Scorpius' company and having in depth discussions about anything and everything. Together.

Al carried his packages through to the bedroom he'd chosen and enlarged them back to their original size. He laughed at the bed; it was massive and took up most of the space in the room. Still, when he was finished repairing it, it would be a masterpiece. He would have the last laugh. He unpacked the dresser and an old wardrobe and managed to find room for them along one wall, but it left barely enough room to move on either side of the bed. Maybe he'd alter the size of the bed just a fraction, then.

'Coffee's up,' Scorpius called and Al returned to the lounge and flopped down on the squashy couch that was another gift from Mr Malfoy.

Scorpius dropped onto the couch beside him and handed Al his steaming mug. Al propped his feet up on the coffee table and sipped his drink, sighing happily.

'You made this from scratch?' he asked, surprised. He'd expected Scorpius to use magic; he usually did. Conjured coffee never tasted quite the same.

Scorpius nodded. 'I figured that we needed a decent cup after the day we've had.'

'Thanks. And it's not over yet.'

'Hm.' Scorpius patted Al's thigh casually and left his hand there for several more seconds. Al almost choked on his coffee but recovered in time. 'Imagine the parties we can hold here,' he said, grinning.

'We still have to find jobs,' Al reminded.

'Yes, but not until after Christmas at least,' he said. 'And your siblings cannot use this place as an escape. This is just ours.'

Scorpius gave Al's knee a friendly squeeze and Al wished he wouldn't; it made Al's insides drop straight to his groin, thinking of things that could just never be.

***

'Did you boys get all settled, then?' Draco asked.

'We did, thanks,' Scorpius said, walking through to the dining room where dinner was waiting. 'Al has some idea of getting some chairs for the balcony and,' Scorpius grinned, 'his bed is just about too big for his room.'

'Nothing a few charms won't fix,' Al said, nudging Scorpius with his elbow as they walked.

When they were seated, Pippy served a dinner of roast beef and all the trimmings, which was one of Draco favourites. He smiled seeing the boys so happy and comfortable with each other and he was so grateful that they lived in a world where their loyalties to their families had not been tested as his was. They were young and free to choose their path and go wherever it took them.

'So, Dad, will you tell us the rest of the story now?'

'Yeah, what happened after that evening?'

Draco allowed himself a small smirk; they were not getting that story. No, he would keep that memory just for himself.

'We made up, of course. Argued about the lack of respect and Harry promised he'd talk to them.'

'Did he?' Al asked.

'Hm,' Draco replied noncommittally. Harry may have spoken to them but it hadn't made that much difference in the end. 'We started spending a lot of time together after that; more than before. It was like something changed.

…

'Come for a walk with me,' Harry said, waving Draco's woolly hat at him.

'Are you quite all right? It's below zero out there and the snow must be two feet deep!'

'Not near the lake it isn't, and I'll cast warming charms for you, you fragile princess,' Harry teased.

Draco's eyes narrowed. 'I'll have you know that I am no princess, Potter.' He scowled and snatched the woolen hat from Harry's hands and jammed it on his head. 'Where's my coat? And you had better be good at those warming charms or I am going to…to…use your innards to warm my feet.'

Harry laughed so hard that Draco couldn't help but let his lips curl up in response. 'I mean it, now haven't you got my coat yet?'

'Here it is, my Lord.' Harry gave a formal bow and then helped a now smiling Draco on with his coat. They stepped outside and Harry cast the required warming charm over them both.

Draco sighed contentedly. It was a stunning view down to the lake. The late afternoon light cast shadows across the snow making streaks of grey that marred the pristine white leading all the way to the water's edge. What caught Draco's breath was the stillness of the lake; not a ripple to be seen on the glasslike surface. It looked so solid he was almost convinced he could walk on it.

'It's beautiful here in winter,' Draco said, tucking his arm through Harry's as they walked.

'Thought you didn't like the cold.'

'I don't; that doesn't mean I don't appreciate the scenery.'

Harry smiled and kissed Draco's cheek. 'I am looking at some pretty stunning scenery right now,' he whispered.

Draco could feel his face heating up, and tried to assure himself that Harry had overdone the warming charm, but he knew it wasn't that. He stopped walking and pulled Harry to him. 'So am I,' he replied.

Harry's arms slid around Draco's waist and Draco's pressed up Harry's chest and around his neck. Their eyes met and held, Draco feeling Harry's sense of peace washing through him, warming him from the inside.

'So are we good after yesterday?' Harry asked, brushing his lips over Draco's very gently, a chaste kiss asking for forgiveness.

'Depends,' Draco replied, the nerves in his lips crying for more kisses.

'On what?' Harry breathed the words over Draco's lips and Draco let his fingers slide through the hair on Harry's nape, wanting to drag him across that final gap, but he held himself back. The tension increased his heart rate and it was thundering so loudly in his chest he wondered how he heard Harry's question.

'On how serious this is.' Draco's voice came out in a dry whisper. He licked his lips and swallowed. 'Is this just a fling or…' Harry's nose rubbed Draco's and he inhaled deeply capturing Harry's exhaled breath. '…more?' The sound of his last word was more like a plea that came from a place of having wanted so much more for longer than he cared to admit but could never ask for.

'Nothing with us has ever been 'just' anything,' Harry said. 'Never has been, never will be,' he finished and Draco whimpered as their lips met and he allowed himself to glimpse and grasp onto that one bright light that shone, beacon-like leading the way to his future.

***

Harry had long since lost track of the time. He knew it must be morning, as the light in the building was different than when he'd regained consciousness. And it was growing warmer; he could not feel a cooling breeze anywhere and he was beginning to perspire. In the middle of the afternoon this place would be stifling. He hoped that whoever his captor was, would not leave him here alone for too much longer.

Fear at the unknown had receded; his training and years of experience had taken care of that, and he hadn't built a career on blind good luck. He was fairly confident that he'd find a way to escape. Besides, if he didn't show for his shift, Simon would send out a search party and, despite being a small underdeveloped country he had been impressed with the level of expertise within the local Aurors.

It was all a matter of listening, observing and looking for an opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Still, he didn't want to wait too long, else dehydration would weaken him and make it more difficult.

Harry passed the time by attempting to count the minutes as they ticked by in his head and, as the heat grew, tried to imagine himself home, somewhere where the snow lay thick on the ground and ice encased the branches of trees. He closed his eyes, imaging himself making piles of snowballs in preparation for an all out war with the boys; the air so cold his glasses steamed up at every breath he took.

It was a nice thought while it lasted, but as the sweat continued to soak his shirt he merely felt sticky and uncomfortable. And he had a damned itch on his nose that he could do nothing about and it was frustrating him to the point where he wanted to scream. He tried to cool himself fractionally by exhaling up over his face, but it barely made any difference. His head felt itchy under his hair from the sweat and he thought that it he couldn't move soon his leg was going to cramp up on him.

If only he had his wand…

There was a soft scratching noise from outside and Harry held his breath hoping to get some clue as to who was coming, but it was too soft.

The door opened and the outside light flooded in along with some comparatively cooler air. Harry's eyes snapped to the light but, temporarily blinded, he could see no more than a dark shape in the doorway. The shape shuffled into the room in an odd fashion and Harry squinted to try and make it out.

It wasn't until it drew near that he discerned it was a woman. She was small in height and in body and dressed in clothes that had seen better days a lifetime ago. She was unkempt, her hair a rats nest of tangles, face grubby. But her eyes were a piercing blue. She looked to be middle aged and would never have been labeled as pretty. Harry was sure that should she smile she'd have teeth missing from rows of broken and decaying stubbs. She looked anything but dangerous, Harry thought. Deranged perhaps and that held its own danger.

She'd not spoken a word since entering and as Harry watched her warily, he noticed that she was clenching one fist and releasing it by her side, and the other hand held two wands, though they were not aimed at him. Her eyes were constantly moving from Harry and them moving around the room. She looked more frightened than anything.

'Who are you?' he asked. 'Will you undo the bindings?' He tried to keep his voice steady and calming but she just shook her head vigorously, dark stringy hair falling into her face as she did.

'Why not?' he asked more forcefully.

'Because I know who you are,' came her quiet whisper. It was almost as if she were confiding a secret.

'Why does that matter?'

'I know why you're here, I know why you're here, I know why you're here,' she answered in a singsong way, albeit in a whisper, hand flexing at her side.

Harry tried to catch her eye, see if he could make some sort of connection with her, and see how dangerous she was but she evaded direct contact, tilting her head in little jerky motions every few seconds.

Harry wondered if she was an ally perhaps of his captor? This woman didn't look like she could have taken him by herself. She looked as though she barely had enough cognitive ability to function.

In evaluating his options, he realised that the only thing he could do was to try and keep her talking.

'Why am I here then?'

'You're…' she moved very close to him and the stench almost made Harry gag but he forced himself to not flinch, even when she put her face barely an inch from his, '…an Auror.' He'd been right about the teeth, he thought as his head reared back. Her voice had not risen above a whisper, but the venom with which she spat out the words spoke more than volume did.

***

'He was like a child about Christmas,' Draco said, smiling as he remembered. 'Well he was that year, anyway.'

'He still is,' Al said, pouring himself coffee from the pot on the side table and making his way back to the table. 'Mum would say that she had four children at Christmas.'

'Has he ever said why?' Scorpius asked.

'A person doesn't need much excuse to enjoy Christmas,' Draco replied. 'I seem to remember you squealing last Christmas because I'd given you the broom you were after.

'Da-ad,' Scorpius whined. 'Malfoys don't squeal; it was a very manly exclamation of pleasure.'

'Quite,' Draco replied, giving his blushing son a reassuring look.

Al shook his head, returning to the original question. 'I always just thought that he wanted Christmas to be special for us.'

'There was that,' Draco agreed. 'But it was also more than that. Remember earlier I mentioned about him wanting to participate in every Christmas tradition no matter how cheesy?'

The boys nodded. 'For a few years before he defeated Voldemort, Harry was of the opinion that he would be unlikely to survive the final battle…'

….

'We can either build a snowman, or we can build an igloo like the Eskimos live in,' Harry said.

'I always found snowmen to be rather creepy,' Draco replied, picking up a handful of snow and compacting it hard into a snowball between his hands. 'What with those long carrot noses and twigs for arms…' he shuddered. 'Before Voldemort took over the house, my nightmares used to be of snowmen.'

'A snow fort it is, then,' Harry said.

Draco turned so he could throw the ball of ice in his hand at Harry, only to be caught in the face by a well-aimed snowball, instead. It broke up and dripped ice down his neck, which slid under the collar of his coat, and he stood gasping in surprise.

'This means war, Potter!' he roared and set to making piles of balls to throw at the green-eyed git, while he tried to ignore the fact that his chest was wet from the snow and his face had a sore spot on this right cheek.

'You're on!' Harry replied and did the same.

After several minutes, Draco ascertained that he had a decent arsenal and took aim, tossing one and jumping jubilantly when it smashed right on Harry's head. 'Yes! Take that.'

Of course, Harry sent one back just as quickly and just as accurately and the battle was on, lasting until neither of them had any snowballs left to throw. Draco ran at Harry instead and they tumbled into the snow, laughing and breathless. Draco was sure he had red marks all over his face from the icy missiles but for once he was unconcerned about his appearance. He was happy and that was all that mattered.

When he looked down into Harry's eyes, he saw an answering happiness there that centered in his heart, warm and strong. Draco smiled and kissed him for long, delicious moments until he was dizzy with the lack of air.

'How about we build that snow fort now?' Harry said, warm breath misting over Draco's face.

'You'd rather play in the snow than kiss me?' He arched one eyebrow, amused more than disappointed.

Harry grinned. 'Well, I had in mind a snow fort that we could hide away in and snog until we freeze.'

Draco laughed and rolled off Harry, standing and holding out a hand to help him up. "All right, I am going to stand and watch you build this snow fort. Why do you want to build one of those anyway?'

'You hate snowmen, so this is the next best thing.'

'We could make snow angels,' he said hopefully.

'I already have my very own snow angel,' Harry said, giving him a cheeky grin.

'Merlin, Harry, you are such a sap.'

Harry laughed. 'I know, but I love Christmas. And these days it puts me in a great mood.'

'You used to hate Christmas?' Draco, who was still holding Harry's hand, moved to an old snow covered log and cleaned it off before sitting down on it and making Harry sit beside him. 'How could you hate Christmas?'

'It wasn't that I hated it; it just was never a good time for me, that's all. I was reminded very forcefully how much my family disliked me. As I grew used to it, it didn't matter so much but as a small child when your cousin receives so many presents he needs a second bedroom and you barely have enough room to stand in your cupboard under the stairs, you get the message pretty easily.'

Draco was horrified. 'You never received any gifts at all?'

Harry shook his head. 'Not until I went to Hogwarts and met Hermione and the Weasleys and Hagrid.'

'No wonder you want to enjoy Christmas now, then,' Draco said threading his fingers through Harry's and holding his hand.

'It's not only that,' Harry said, shifting on the log. 'The last couple of years before I defeated Voldemort, I was certain I was going to die in the final battle. I couldn't see a life in front of me. I had no future.' Harry grinned. 'You wonder why I don't care if anyone knows about us. It's because I don't care; I've earned the right to live my life as I see fit. I want to experience everything there is to experience. Life is too short to stress over things that won't matter five years from now.'

Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully. He was flushed from their earlier game; messy hair half hidden under a warm hat and eyes that were so honest Draco almost felt the need to look away. Out of respect for Harry, though, he kept that eye contact. He lifted his free hand and tenderly cupped Harry's face. I want to matter to you five years from now, Draco thought but couldn't say aloud as he leaned in and kissed the corner of Harry's mouth.

'Let's get this snow fort built then, Mr. Potter.'

***

Harry thought lying about his profession might set the woman off, so he nodded. This woman obviously had great dislike, maybe even hate for Aurors. He wondered why. Regardless of her mental state and the state of her clothing and level of personal hygiene, she was entitled to be protected by the Aurors as much as the next person.

He'd not had much experience in talking down an unstable person, but now was as good a time as any to gain some.

'Why have you bound me to the chair?' Harry asked, feeling a surge of triumph as her eyes made a fleeting connection with his wrists and he knew she'd understood the question.

'Because, because, because…' she said in that breathy, sing song whisper she'd used before.

'If you let me go now, then I won't arrest you. We can all go home and forget all this,' Harry coaxed.

'Peggy Jones gots not homes,' she sang, reaching for her lank hair and twirling a lock through her fingers.

'You don't have anywhere to live?' Harry asked. He wasn't surprised; she looked like she'd been living rough on the streets.

Peggy Jones sleeps with the bones.' She began to sway with the rhythm of the words.

Harry sighed. Apart from feeling compassion for her, he was frustrated that he couldn't free himself and it seemed like she was barely cognizant of the conversation.

'Peggy,' he said loudly. 'Peggy!' he barked, losing patience when she didn't respond to him.

She merely continued to sway to a tuneless hum she'd begun.

Damn, it was completely useless. He had to find a way to make her put down his wand. He could just about summon up enough wandless magic to perform an Accio, but it needed to be out of her hand before he could be sure the spell would work.

'Can I at least have some water, please?' he asked, making his voice hoarse and dry sounding.

The swaying stopped and she slipped out the door saying nothing and making barely a sound. If Harry hadn't watched her go he'd have not known. He sighed; bloody great Auror he was getting himself caught like this. Constant Vigilance had been Moody's philosophy and Harry had thought he'd applied it well. Up until now.

The afternoon wore on – Harry knew it was the afternoon because of the stifling heat. Peggy Jones, or whoever she was had not returned and no one else appeared in her place. Harry had not had water for almost twenty-four hours and he knew in this heat that was extremely dangerous.

His lips were dry, tongue feeling double it's normal size in his mouth. What was more worrying was that he'd stopped sweating.

He hung his head trying to conserve energy and black spots danced behind his eyelids. He fought to retain consciousness, refusing to let the blackness take over, but it was hard work, his brain seemed to have a mind of its own. Harry giggled at thinking his brain had a mind of its own; that was really very funny, he decided with the part of his brain that didn't have a mind of its own…

Somewhere he knew he was becoming delusional and he fought to focus on something solid. He chose the pictures he could still make out on the wall behind the desk. The one with the bears or donkey's or whatever they were. He did know that it was a Christmas card because of the hats. Santa hats. Red hats. He had a red Santa hat at home for when he was Santa. It was…he forced himself to remember it…in his this bottom drawer in the chest in the spare room. He smiled remembering the last time he'd worn it; he'd been Santa dancing around the Christmas tree and Ginny was a reindeer. No, wait, Ginny was the Christmas star on the tree…or had that been Lily? He couldn't remember and for some reason he knew he needed to remember…why?

It was Christmas and he wanted to go home. He needed to go home.

He finally sighed and let the black overtake him.

Tbc…