By the time the match had started the weather had gotten worse. The thick, low cloud obscured the castle and the driving rain meant that Draco couldn't even see the stands at the other side of the pitch. The match wasn't cancelled however. As Harry took to the air a faint cheer from the Gryffindor stands was drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. Even the commentary from Lee Jordan wasn't up to his usual standards, rather unsurprisingly, given he couldn't see either set of goalposts, let alone the snitch. Suddenly Wood called a time-out. Hermione disappeared at a run. Draco couldn't work out why, but he knew one thing- Harry in his glasses wouldn't be able to see anything in this weather, which was getting to be dangerous rapidly. Hermione returned shortly after the match restarted.

'I Imperviused Harry's glasses- he should be able to see better now.' Hermione said in way of explanation for her sudden disappearance.

'Good, we'll stand a much better chance if our seeker can see where he's going, let alone the snitch.'

'Very true.' Ron nodded sagely.

A bright flash of lightning filled the sky and suddenly everything went cold.

'No, not now.' Said Draco, who had seen the source of the chill. In the sky hang several black shadows. As a vast roar of thunder filled the stadium the crowd fell silent, as a small black body fell from the bleak sky.

'Harry!' Hermione gasped. He was heading straight for the floor. Surely there was no way he could survive that. As the dementors closed, Draco's memories returned to haunt him.

'Useless boy! Sometimes I wonder what good you ever do. You were supposed to help your mother, not drop everything and get in the way.'

'But it was so heavy.'

'At your age you should be strong enough. When will you ever grow up?' The voice of cruel Lucius mocked. A bright white filled Draco's fogging vision and suddenly he felt better.

'Harry! What happened?' Draco asked.

'Dementors.' Hermione said. 'Harry must have come across them up there in the clouds. You know what happened on the train..,' Hermione fell silent.

'Well, Dumbledore must have done something, because Harry stopped just before he hit the ground. Then he did something to make the dementors go away. That's when Diggory caught the snitch. Madame Pomfrey took Harry to the hospital wing, but I think he's going to be alright.' Ron continued.

Draco felt bad- how could he not have seen what had happened? Why did he let the dementors affect him so? He mustn't be so weak. He had to be able to get a grip of himself. He knew it had to be done. But how? Then a rogue thought entered Draco's mind.

'What happened to Harry's broom?'

'I don't know.' Hermione admitted.

'Let's go and look for it, we can go and see him afterwards. It's not as if Pomfrey'd let us see him for a while anyway and he'll want to know what's happened to it.'

They spread out throughout the grounds, but in the end they found it, or at least what they assumed to be it, in a pile at the bottom of the Whomping Willow. It took a lot of time to gather the splinters, avoiding the tree's vindictive swipes, but stubbornly Draco insisted on doing it himself, there was no way he was going to show himself to be weak and cowardly after that dementor attack, not in front of his friends.

Eventually he had gathered the splinters into his robe. Somehow it affected him badly, seeing this broom, the identical twin of his own, broken and destroyed. He hoped that Harry was alright.

In the hospital wing, Harry was coming to, when his three friends burst in, with the Gryffindor quidditch team in tow.

'Harry! How are you?' Hermione asked.

'Fine. What happened. Did we win?' Harry asked Fred, who merely shook his head.

'Diggory tried to call it off, but he'd already caught the snitch, same moment you. Well, you know.' George's eyes dived to the floor as he finished the sentence.

'What happened to my broom?'

Draco stepped forwards and sadly placed the remnants of the once proud flying-stick onto Harry's bed. Harry's heart looked as if it had broken. It was almost as if his first love had died, and Draco felt much the same way. It wasn't just any broom after all; it was that broom, it was totally irreplaceable.

The holidays were fast approaching and this Christmas Draco was going home. He felt that he had been neglecting his uncle and Christmas, after all, was supposed to be a time for family. Harry, Ron and Hermione may have been staying at Hogwarts, but he wasn't, not this time. As he boarded the carriage that would take him to Hogsmeade, his friends waved him goodbye. He had promised to write and was looking forward to getting letters from them in return.

His uncle met him off the train at King's cross, and from there they apparated back home. The house had been decorated for Christmas, but without much effort. In the corner of the hall by the bottom of the stairs sat a sad Christmas tree, with lights- muggle electric lights - and tinsel over it. Somehow it looked like the spirit of Christmas cheer had left this house by as it had flowed over the world. Noctifer had however done plenty of baking. There were mince pies by the dozen in a tin in the kitchen, which were soon reduced in number by Draco's keen munching.

'What's the white stuff on top of the filling?' Draco asked through a full mouth. 'It's delicious.'

'Family secret, kiddo. I'll tell you someday, when I'm sure nobody's listening in.' His Uncle replied mysteriously. This wasn't the only peculiar thing Draco noticed his uncle say or do that holiday. He disappeared at odd hours, sometimes for hours at a time, without telling Draco where he was going, though at other times he did tell him he was going to work. Draco was also confused about the lack of decorations in the house, something about it didn't quite work. For so long now, Draco had thought of his uncle as the jovial type and had always assumed that he would have decorated the house massively for Christmas and for some reason he was disappointed that he hadn't.

He must have let his disappointment show, for when Draco came down on Christmas morning, the whole house was a gaudy display of festive cheer.

'Merry Christmas, Draco.'

'Merry Christmas.'

'What do you fancy for breakfast- I was going to have bacon and eggs.'

'Sounds good to me.'

'I'll make it for two then. We'll do presents after breakfast.'

'So you want to wait until after lunch?'

'No. I never could be bothered with all that waiting.'

Draco sat in silence as his uncle carried on cooking up breakfast.

'There we go.' Said Noctifer, placing a plate down in front of Draco on the kitchen table.

'Any chance of a bit of brown sauce to go with it?'

'Course. It's still in the same cupboard it was last time you were here.'

Draco went and got out the bottle, which he seemed to him not to have been touched since he was last at home. He picked it up and returned to the table, where he dolloped a generous blob next to his eggs.

'After you with the bottle, kiddo.'

Draco handed the bottle to his uncle who applied it with relish. There was a lot on his plate- he seemed to like the stuff. Why then had the bottle not been touched? Soon breakfast was over and it was time for presents. Hermione had sent him a book called Popular Arithmancy – A Beginner's Guide. Ron, a large box of cockroach cluster, which after Draco had once jokingly claimed to be his favourite sweet- they'd laughed about all term. Harry had gotten him a particularly soft pair of seeker's gloves for quidditch. That wasn't the only sporting gift he had received though.

'Wow. Thanks Uncle Noctifer, that's amazing!' Draco exclaimed as he unwrapped a full set of cricket gear, the great leg pads were around the outside of a bat, gloves and a box. The helmet was on top of the bat handle, which stuck out of the top of the pads.

'It's a short handle bat, it might be a smidgeon long at the moment, but you'll grow into it.'

'Wow. It's a beauty, very heavy though.'

'I don't believe all this modern nonsense about a light bat. Your mates'll be hitting it out of the ground if they get a sweet spot, sure, but that whole bat is a sweet spot. It'll be belting its way down to the boundary for four every time you get an edge, unless a fielder gets in the way.' Draco gave his uncle a big hug and as the older man grasped him in return he felt a wave of happiness flood over him. For once, he felt wanted. For once, he felt truly at home.

That afternoon, some letters arrived from Hogwarts.

The scrawly handwriting of the first proclaimed it to be from Harry.

Draco,

You'll never believe what turned up this Christmas. I got a FIREBOLT.I can't believe it. There wasn't any note to say who it was from. Any ideas? Hermione was a bit sniffy about it- got really annoying, but in the end she left after Crookshanks attacked Scabbers. She still thinks that creature's innocent. Hope you're having a good Christmas.

Harry.

The other letter was written in Hermione's considerably more elegant hand.

Dear Draco,

I hope you're having a good Christmas. Everything's going alright here and if I'm honest I'll tell you that I'm enjoying the break from work. Harry got a bit of a funny present. A Firebomb or something- a fast broom at any rate. There wasn't a note, so I'm wondering if it might have been sent by Sirius Black- after all, Neville said he was supposed to be after Harry. Harry and Ron didn't listen to me- they don't seem to care that it could be dangerous. Then they yelled at me because Crookshanks did what cats do and leaped at Scabbers. I really wish Ron would stop going on about it- I've tried keeping Crookshanks up in my dorm, but he just gets grumpy. The other girls don't like him either. At any rate, I'm not sure what to do about it. Perhaps I should go to McGonagall. What do you think?

Looking forward to seeing you again.

Hermione.

Draco was still debating about what to put in his reply to Hermione when another letter arrived.

Draco,

I don't know why I did it, but I went to McGonagall after lunch to tell her about the broomstick. Now she's taken it away to be stripped and Harry and Ron won't speak to me. Not only that, but when we got back, Ron found his rat missing; there was blood on his sheet and some ginger cat hairs. I think they might have been from earlier this morning but Ron won't listen and he looks at me like I'm defending a murderer just because I said that Crookshanks was just being a cat. I've only just opened my presents - Mum and Dad always liked to open them after lunch. Thank you for the book- it looks beautiful. I'm really looking forward to reading it too- I haven't read any wizarding fiction before.

Hope you're having a better Christmas than I am.

Hermione

Was that water mark at the bottom of the letter caused by a falling tear? Hermione seemed really upset to Draco and he wanted to do something to make her feel better. Then an idea hit him. He ran downstairs.

'Uncle N, have we got any boxes of chocolate in the house?'

'Surely you can't still be hungry after what you just had for lunch?'

'No, it's just this girl at school- my friend Hermione; I'd like to send them to her.'

'Trying to get yourself a girlfriend?' Noctifer teased.

'No! It's just she's not feeling very happy at the moment and I wanted to cheer her up.'

'Alright, I was only joking. We might have a box of posh chocs in the sideboard. I'll dig them out for you.'

Slowly Noctifer got to his feet and waddled, still full to the point of bursting from Christmas dinner, into the next room where the sideboard sat. Squatting down slowly he opened up a door and pulled out two boxes.

'We've got Nordred's Nutty Nougat Selection or Aelfric's Alcoholic Assortment. Think we'd better go with the Nougat- will that be alright?'

'That'll be great. Thanks.' Draco said, taking the box before he ran back upstairs. Sitting down at his desk- a lovely walnut object inlaid with green leather- he started to write a new letter.

Dear Hermione,

I hope Ron and Harry aren't giving you too rough a time about the broom. Whilst they may not like you for it now, if anything is discovered, then you'll see how fast their tune will change. Since I can't be with you I'm sending you a box of chocolates to try and cheer you up in my stead. Whilst they may not have all of my charm and sophistication, they have the advantage of being edible, which I like to think I'm not! The Arithmancy book look likes it's going to be fun so I'm going to save that to relieve the boredom when I'm coming back up on the train- it's really no fun at all without you lot there to talk to.

Christmas at home had been very quiet for me, compared to the last few years at school, although judging by the number of people going home on the train, it seems that your Christmas will be relatively quiet too. Have you started that holiday essay for Vector yet? It's taken me ages to find the right stuff in the book.

Looking forward to seeing you again,

Draco.

Having attached the box of chocolates to the owl, he handed the letter over and the owl set off on his delivery. The rest of the holiday, Draco spent answering letters, writing essays and relaxing, but precious little of the latter, since before he knew it, he was once more boarding the Hogwarts express to return to school.