Harry settled back into his seat, and zoned out as Draco and Marcus discussed different maneuvers and plays that they wanted to try out in the new year. As much as he loved flying, Harry was too preoccupied with worries over what could go wrong over the holidays. It was his experience that good things didn't happen to Harry Potter when they happened to everyone else. Discovering that he was a wizard on his birthday had been an aberration. It was naïve to think it could happen again.

Harry loved Draco like a brother, and he liked Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy a lot, was eternally grateful to them for sending him extra quills, boxes of chocolates, and little encouraging notes in the Great Hall, so he wouldn't feel left out, but he didn't actually know them that well.

As much as he liked to daydream of being swept up in a big family hug, in front of a massive sparkling Christmas tree, and being adopted officially into the Malfoy family, he was equally haunted by visions of being locked into a cupboard, crying in the dark, as the Malfoys celebrated Christmas without him there to soil their joy.

It wasn't the presents; Harry was used to watching everyone else opening gifts, and he honestly didn't think that doing so again would be too painful, but if he made it all the way there, only to discover that he was nothing more than a burden to Draco and his parents, Harry would be so embarrassed. He had tried very hard not to get his hopes up, just in case, but he knew it was a losing battle.

He was never going to be loved, he knew that, but he wanted so badly to belong.

Terrence Higgs opened the door in a huff, and Harry could not hold back his laugh; the head boy was covered in glitter.

"You look like a deranged pixie, Higgs," Marcus deadpanned. "What happened?"

"Let me guess," Draco drawled, "you mistook a glitter golem for Tabitha Spiers, and thought you'd finally make a move."

Marcus laughed, while Terry twisted his face into mock, exaggerated rage. "You mean this move, you little brat?" he asked, lunging forward to pin Draco into a giant bear hug, and sending glitter flying all over the compartment.

Draco shrieked and swatted uselessly against the older boy, who soon had him in a sparkly headlock.

"Well, if it wasn't Tabby and her obnoxious make-up, I'm assuming the Weasley twins got you?" Marcus asked.

Terry sighed heavily, and shoved Draco back into his seat. "It is one of life's great injustices that there are so many Weasleys."

"Did Adrian and Cass get them back?" Draco asked, excitedly.

Terry smirked, despite his attempts to exude head boy maturity. "They did. All of the Weasleys are now green, and will likely stay green for the next week. Percy got caught in the middle, and is now green AND glittery. He threw and absolute fit."

"Percy's a little bitch," Marcus groused. "I'll take the twins' chaos over his tight-arsed lectures, any day."

"Speak for yourself," Terry muttered, shaking yet another cloud of glitter out of his clothes, and vanishing it.

"You said all of the Weasleys?" Draco asked, mischievously. "That mean Ronald, too?"

"The firstie? Yeah. He was right mad about it, too."

"Excellent," Draco grinned.

Harry could practically see the future insults being crafted within his friend's blonde head.

"You've been quiet, Harry," Terry said, giving up on cleaning his robes, and slumping into his seat.

Harry shrugged. "Just excited, I guess."

Draco beamed, and slung his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Harry's going to have the best Christmas ever, with me this year!"

"I believe it. Mr. Malfoy's famous blonde hair might actually turn grey with you two running around his manor for weeks on end."

Harry smiled, but it felt fake, like his face might crack with the strain of it. He didn't want to be a nuisance.

The conversation moved on to other topics, and Harry let his attention drift back to his worries, as he watched the countryside blur past the compartment's window. Would the Malfoy's make Harry cook for them? That wouldn't be too bad, unless they were picky eaters, or wanted something fancy that Harry didn't know how to make.

That was silly though, wasn't it? Harry was a guest, and the Malfoys seemed proper about things like that. Aunt Petunia would never make a guest good for the Dursleys, no matter how much she disliked them.

Maybe the Malfoys would do the cooking, but only let Harry eat leftovers, or stale breadcrusts, or something equally boring or vile. That would be difficult, after all of the good food at Hogwarts, but at least the holidays weren't long enough for him to have to worry about starving to death. He could live on bread crusts. Draco would probably find a way to sneak him apples and treacle tart, anyways. He had done that more than once, when Harry had accidentally skipped a meal, studying.

Harry sighed. Draco was a good friend, and his parents were nice. He needed to remember that, and not let his imagination run wild. No matter what they did to him during the break, Harry was certain that it would be better than being at the Dursleys'.

As time passed, it became obvious that Avery's friends weren't coming back. Harry let his shoulders relax, and even curled up with his cloak as a pillow, to take a short nap. He let the warm, merry voices of his fellow Slytherins lull him to sleep.

He woke with a start, with the train rattling laboriously beneath him, and sheepishly wiped the drool from his face.

Marcus had his girlfriend, Maria Sayre, planted squarely on his lap and sucking on his face. Next to them, Terry was valiantly focused on his arithmancy notes. Draco had transfigured a small army of chocolate frogs into little wizarding soldiers, and appeared to be attempting to get them to fight each other, without his direct input.

"Having fun?" Harry asked, with a yawn.

"Oh, thank Merlin, you're awake," Draco said, popping a lieutenant into his mouth and hopping up onto his feet. "I was getting so bored."

"You could have woken me," Harry said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and following Draco out of the compartment.

Draco shook his head. "You haven't been sleeping well. Better you sleep on the train, than sleep through Christmas!"

"Christmas isn't for another week."

"Yeah, but the break starts today, and I have way too many cool things to show you at my place, to have you all groggy."

"Where are we going?"

Draco looked at Harry like he was crazy. "We still have loads of people to say hi to, before holidays, and I wanna see how Cass and Adrian's revenge on the Weasleys turned out, for myself. I would have checked earlier, but I didn't wanna ditch you."

"I would have been fine, but thanks."

"We'll have to be fast. The train's almost to London."

Magic crackled in the air, signalling that they were approaching prank ground zero. Small pieces of glitter, tinsel, mistletoe, paint, and what disturbingly appeared to be pig entrails, clung to cracks and crevices along the hallway, despite someone's haphazard efforts to clean up.

"Terry didn't tell us the whole story," Harry mused, sidestepping a brightly flashing mouse that was squeaking 'jingle bells' as it scurried past.

Draco snorted. "He was probably afraid we'd join in, if we knew."

"Would've been fun."

"Nah, Father would kill me if I made a spectacle of myself at King's Cross, if I couldn't get myself cleaned up, in time. Not worth it."

Gemma Farley's raised voice caught their attention, and they hurried to investigate. The prefect had a Slytherin fourth year, Lucian Bole, trapped in a compartment, and was thoroughly chewing him out for joining in on the prank war. Lucian was bright red with embarrassment, but could not keep the hint of a satisfied smirk off his face. He wore a silver garland around his shoulders like a war trophy boa, and the hem of his robes smouldered with pine-scented smoke.

"Hi Gemma," Draco said, loudly and cheerfully. "Looks like me and Harry missed out on all the fun."

Gemma spun, and smiled at them, once she'd checked that their robes showed no signs of warfare. "Happy Christmas Harry, Draco," she said warmly, wrapping each of them in a firm hug, in turn. "Make sure you avoid the Weasleys. They seem to have a holiday vendetta against even the most innocent Slytherins, this year."

"We will," Draco promised, smoothing down his robes. He raised his chin and straightened his spine. "Just because the Weasleys have no sense of pureblood decorum doesn't mean we've all forgotten it."

"Good to know," Gemma chuckled. "Harry, if you don't see Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy from the train, wait for me before getting off, and I'll make sure you get to them, safely, okay?"

Harry smiled. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Gemma."

"Any time, kiddo."

"Hi Harry! Hi Draco!" Daphne called out from further down the corridor. She already had her trunk trailing behind her, and was heading toward the exit.

"Hey Daph," Draco said. "Excited to get home?"

Daphne glanced at her trunk and shrugged. "Yes and no. I've missed my little sister, but she's also a bit of a nightmare, you know? Mother's hot chocolate is the best, though, and I know she'll have some waiting for us when we get home. She won't even let the house elves know her recipe. What about you two?"

"We're excited," Draco said, pulling Harry close with an arm flung over his shoulders. "I'm going to make Harry fight the peacocks."

"You what?" Harry asked sharply, pulling back.

Draco and Daphne laughed, but Draco refused to say if he was kidding or not, causing Harry to look at Draco suspiciously and pout. This just made the two blondes laugh harder.

"I'll see you both at the ministry ball and at your mother's tea, Draco. I'm going to head to the exit to try to beat the crowds. King's Cross is much too cramped, don't you think?"

"Crowds always part for a Malfoy," Draco smirked, with an obnoxiously casual shrug.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "But will they part with The Boy Who Lived in tow? You probably should have hired some seventh years to be your bodyguards."

Harry frowned as Daphne sauntered away. "It won't be that bad, will it?"

"She was just trying to get a rise out of me," Draco said, dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

"YOU!" an angry voice echoed down the corridor from behind them.

Harry spun around, wand drawn, to see a very green, very angry Ronald Weasley stalking toward them.

"This is all your fault!" Weasley spat, gesturing to his discolored skin.

"How do you figure that, Weasel?" Draco drawled, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

Harry stumbled back a step.

"Not you, Malfoy. You're not that important. Wonder Boy here had to go and screw everything up."

Harry's heart panged. "M-me?"

"Yes, you. I wouldn't even be on this stupid train, if it wasn't for you."

"Wow, Harry," Draco said, "I knew you were cool, but I didn't know you could Imperius people into going places they didn't want to go, already. That's really impressive, for a first year."

With great effort, Harry forced a weak smile.

"That's not what I meant," Weasley said, scrubbing haplessly at his green skin. "I was all set to spend the holidays at Hogwarts, get to explore the castle without any dirty Slytherins around, when the Prophet announced that Wonder Boy here was attending the Ministry Ball, and attendance for ministry employees was made unofficially mandatory. My parents had to cancel their trip to visit my older brother, because of you."

"That's hardly Harry's fault, you loathsome ginger cucumber," Draco said, stepping around Harry and squaring his shoulders. "We can't help it that your father is a pathetic little underling at whatever useless department he works for, and doesn't have any strings to pull for a favor. If his attitude is anything like yours, I can see why he hasn't made any friends in high places. I'm sure its difficult for a pickle to understand, but you really can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Weasley's face scrunched up, caught between being insulted and being confused. "Huh?"

Draco smirked. "It's a muggle saying. For a Blood Traitor, you're pretty uninformed. It means that it is better to be sweet than whatever the hel it is you're trying to do. Now please try to take your head out of your arse long enough to realize that Harry can't stop ministry lackeys from falling over themselves to catch a flicker of reflected glory or a sliver of a chance at a future favor, at Harry's expense. I know you have never been rich, important, or famous enough to know what it's like to be forced into the wandlight, but try to use some common sense, and put yourself in our shoes long enough to imagine how much of a pain in the arse it is to have peons like your father underfoot, all of the time."

Weasley punched Draco, hard, in the face. The blond crumpled backwards, into Harry's arms, with a cry of pain. Blood was gushing out of his nose.

Harry lowered his friend carefully to the floor, then shot a stinging hex at Weasley with all of the strength that he could muster. Weasley yelped in pain, doubling over from where Harry's hex had hit him in the stomach, and flexing his hand, knuckles red and already swelling from the punch.

Harry hexed him again. "What's your problem, Weasley? What have I ever done to you?"

Weasley gave a wordless snarl of disgust, and stomped away.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked his friend, whose nose was purpling and looking painfully disfigured. Tears clung to his pale eyelashes, as he blinked rapidly, and groaned.

"Ow," Draco whined. "That sodding muggle punched me."

Harry laughed weakly. "I saw. Keep your head tilted back, and I'll grab Gemma. She'll fix you up."

Draco winced. "Only after she lectures us for fighting with a Weasel, after her warning."

"You didn't exactly help the situation, you know," Harry said, his guts still twisted at Weasley's words. Was he really causing that much trouble for everyone? Had he ruined people's Christmases? Would he have to fend off people wanting to use him, like Draco said, or blame him, like Weasley had? Maybe leaving Hogwarts for the holidays really had been a mistake…

Draco rolled his eyes, then whimpered in pain. "As long as Farley's willing to fix my nose and clean away the blood, it was worth it. Weasley's an idiot."

"…Thanks, Dray."