Neville trailed after his grandmother hopelessly as she strode determinedly through St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was tradition for him to visit his parents every Christmas, but this year he wasn't quite feeling it. His grandmother had written to Professor Dumbledore, so that he could visit his parents, but still return to Hogwarts for the Yule Ball afterwards and Neville felt embarrassed about the special treatment. He was following his grandmother up the stairs to the fourth floor where his parents were, as he always did, when something distinctly unusual happened.
The Healer for the Janus Thickey Ward met them outside the entrance to the ward, on her way to deliver the presents and gave her normal greeting to the Longbottoms when she called out to a passing matron with a sour face.
"Stella! One of these presents is for your patient!" A couple of boxes fell from her arms. "Oh, give me a second."
The matron, who had been just about to enter a nondescript ward opposite the one which held Neville's parents when the Healer called out, glared at her haughtily. "Fine, give it here!" She said in exasperation. "Hopefully presents will calm him down."
Neville looked on curiously, despite his grandmother tugging him in the other direction. He had never seen the ward opposite the Janus Thickey and he wondered who could possibly be inside the private ward. Dragging his feet so he could get a good look when the matron opened the door, Neville craned his neck. He was surprised when a boy rush through the door in a blur of blond hair as soon as it was unlocked.
The boy tackled the matron, sending presents flying. With a jolt of shock, Neville recognised the boy. It was Draco Malfoy.
Draco had spent so much time planning this moment. He knew that the only way he would be able to get past the matron was to catch her unawares, a feat which was almost impossible. However, he had learnt that the one day she would not immediately apprehend him was Christmas day, when she would often be carrying his presents and (hopefully) would be distracted enough with holding them that he could get past her.
Closing his eyes for a second, Draco felt the memories from his counterpart; the Slytherin Common Room, getting ready for the Yule Ball, a discarded transfiguration essay...
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Draco snapped his attention back to the door. He couldn't afford to lose focus - if he didn't escape today, it would take months until he next had an opportunity to escape. Eyes fixed upon the door, Draco strained his ears for footsteps or any other sign that the matron was approaching.
He sat there for hours, senses alert, ready for action at a moment's notice. Eventually, he heard the sound of the matron's snappy voice, a sound Draco recognised from when his parents visited (an event which seemed too long ago). Draco prepared himself, his body a coiled spring.
Slowly, painfully slowly, the door handle twisted and Draco sprinted from the start-line, crashing into the matron before she had the chance to cast a spell to stop him. Presents spilled from her arms, smashing onto the floor between the wards. Unfortunately, this left the matron's arms free to grab Draco into a headlock.
As Draco twisted and struggled, he remained oblivious to his audience. His only thoughts were of escape and how long he had planned this moment, only to be foiled once more. Rage filled him, as his desperation for freedom left him, propelling the hated matron backwards. Her head hit the wall behind her and she lay still, leaving Draco standing there, swaying slightly. It had been a long time since he had last done accidental magic and the effort taken to blast a grown adult backwards had left Draco with very little energy left.
The Healer rushed towards her colleague, checking for a pulse and then giving a sigh, relieved. Augusta Longbottom however, stood in front of her grandson protectively and pointed her wand at the teenage boy. Draco, exhausted, collapsed before the first restraining spell hit him.