Kings Cross is busy for 7 o'clock in the morning, the huge station bustling with the activity of hundreds of suitcase-lugging travellers. The departures board flashes yellow, alerting Harry to the constant stream of trains queued up on platforms, transporting people all over the country. Coffee in hand, he wanders towards the boards, squinting up at the bright lettering until he finds the 7.45 to York. As soon as platform 9 flashes up, Harry starts to weave his way through the hordes of people to reach the ticket gates. As the automatic doors at the front of the station whoosh open smoothly, a strong gust of December air snatches the ticket from his hand and carries it a few feet away, landing gently on the cold ground. Harry makes a frantic stumble towards it, cutting off the path of a few suited businessmen, who tut and sigh loudly before marching off down the platform. Cheeks red with embarrassment, Harry scoops the ticket up off the ground and waves it at the guard, who seems to be desperately trying not to laugh.

A couple of minutes late and he's sat down in a warm carriage, still nursing the same (almost cold) cup of coffee. The train jolts and begins to slowly move forward, easing its way out of the station and out into the still-dark morning. Rummaging through his pockets, Harry extricates his phone and swipes through the messages waiting for him. A few sweet well-wishes from Hermione and Ron, kisses from Ginny, Adam telling him to hurry up and get his butt out to Yorkshire already and finally, the message Harry has been waiting for.

D : Stay safe and bring some snow back for me x

Harry grins, tapping out a reply as the train gathers speed.

H : Sure thing, we can make a snowman in Ginny's room when I get back x

A reply vibrates his phone against the tiny metal table.

D : Great plan, I'll look forward to it x

H : What are you doing up this early? x

D : Some of us actually have to work...x

H : Ooh, grumpy. I actually work 40% of the time in an office x

D : How do u even work enough to section off 40% of that time? x

H : Wanna swap jobs? x

D : I value my life, actually, so no x

H : Have a good day, Draco x

D : Don't die and text me later, Harry, ok? x

H : Will do x

Harry slips his phone back into his pocket, smiling. Hopefully he'll get good signal at his destination, the absolute middle of nowhere, as Adam has been describing it. The train flies past the outskirts of the city, buildings silhouetted against the dark sky, streetlights forming a yellow blur. The trains rocks steadily backwards and forwards, forcing Harry's head back against the plush headrest. His eyelids flutter closed as the train's incessant rhythm lulls him to sleep.

The shrill whistle of a train guard jolts Harry out of his dreams. The train is slowly drawing out of Leeds and the sky has changed from a deep blue to a soft pink, decorated with gold-edged clouds. A thick frost sparkles on the platform and fairy lights glitter in the trees. Picking up his phone, Harry takes a photo of the aesthetically-pleasing surroundings and sends it to Draco with the caption 'Jealous?'

Finally, the train pulls into York. Harry grabs his bag and starts off down the platform, before realizing that his scarf has been left on the train. Dropping his bag, he scrambles back into the carriage before emerging triumphantly onto the platform with the scarf, just as the doors slam and the guard blows the whistle. Several people watching the performance, applaud. Harry grins sheepishly with flaming cheeks, and heads off towards the bus station.

The coach is warm, a stark contrast to the bitterly-cold air outside, with drips of condensation running down the inside of the windows. Harry slumps into a seat and watches as the coach rumbles and shudders down the streets, out of the city and into the countryside. The roads get smaller and smaller, quieter and quieter as the coach winds round sharp bends and past fields, the morning traffic of York being left far behind.

An hour later and the coach pulls up at a tiny shop and post office. There's a signpost too, with High Dalby House painted across it in large letters. Grabbing his bag, he jumps off the coach and out into the freezing morning, following the direction the of the signpost. It's not too long until the old guesthouse comes into view, with it's old stone walls and conservatory. The lobby and corridor is cute, with thick red carpet and patterned wallpaper. Small corridors lead off in all directions, paths to rooms hidden just out of view. A friendly woman greets and checks him in, handing him a large brass key with a red tag hanging from it, a gold 7 printed in the centre. Wandering up a flight of quietly creaking stairs, he finds door number 7 and slips the key into the lock. The room is richly decorated but homely, with plush cushions decorating the sofa, a thick carpet and a heavy quilt on the bed. Pictures decorate the walls and velvet curtains frame the large window, overlooking the gardens and onto the moors behind.

Harry's not usually one to notice decor, but this room seems to be entirely done in shades of red, gold and cream. He takes a picture to send to Ginny, knowing that her Gryffindor tendencies will be delighted with the colour scheme. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket onto the sofa, Harry flops back onto the bed, picking up his phone and dialling Adam.

'Hey mate! Got there yet?' Adam's voice sounds muffled, as if at the end of a long tunnel.

'Yeah, I'm here, at the hotel. Where are you and the others?' Harry replies.

'Still driving. I'll be there soon, only another hour to go. The others won't be there for a while though. Missed their train, the idiots, and will get here for about 6. Typical,' Adam laughs.

'God, you all need some of my impeccable timekeeping skills,'

'Mate, you know you only made your train on time because Ginny dragged you out of bed this morning. You wouldn't have even turned up if it wasn't for her,'

'True, true. She's an actual life saver and my personal alarm clock,'

'Got to go and concentrate on not getting horribly lost now but I'll be there soon. Oh, are the rooms nice?' Adam's voice is getting fainter.

'Yeah, very nice,' Harry chuckles as he looks around his red and gold room. 'Bye mate,'

Disconnecting the call, he quickly texts Draco.

H : U free to talk? Just got here x

D : On my break and going out to get coffee. Call me x

The reply pings back immediately and Harry dials Draco's number.

'Hey there,' The sound of Draco's voice sends shivers down Harry's spine.

'Hi,' He manages to squeak out.

'How was the journey?'

'Good, all went smoothly and it wasn't too busy. It's freezing here, though,'

Draco laughs 'Well, at least Ginny packed for you, she will have put in several warm jumpers,'

'I hope so, or i'll arrive back covered in ice,'

'Is the hotel nice?' Draco asks.

'Yeah, cosy. My room is entirely Gryffindor colours, it's like they knew exactly what I would want,' Harry laughs.

'Oh, God, I bet you look like something out of a photoshoot,' Draco groans. 'You're smiling like an idiot, aren't you?'

'Yep,' Harry says, grinning from ear to ear.

'Are the others there yet?'

'No, Adam is still driving and the rest missed their train so won't be here until this evening,'

'What have you got planned?' Draco asks.

'It's mainly surveillance work out here so it's a fairly easy week. Nothing that could result in serious injuries. Coming all the way out here is probably utterly pointless, Adam says, but I'm guessing the Ministry would rather be safe than sorry. I also get paid, which is brilliant as Ginny strips my bank account every Christmas with that Cartier jewellery she always insists on for a present,' Harry replies.

'Damn, I'm due back at work. I'll call you later, Harry. Bye!' Draco quickly hangs up.

Harry leans back on the pile of cushions and his eyelids grow heavy. Within seconds, he's fast asleep again, too far gone to hear the faint buzz of his phone as a message arrives.

D : I already miss you x