Harry woke with a gasp, sitting up from the narrow pallet bed as shudders racked through his twitching muscles. He put his feet on the floor, focusing on the cold, taking deep breaths until they evened out and the shudders had dropped to a faint tremor.

Harry went over to the couch, adding a log to the coals in before he collapsed back into the thin cushions. He pulled his hair over his shoulder, dragging his fingers carelessly through the tangles and knots as he stared blankly at the small flames creeping up the wood.

He thought he had seen every horrifying thing his mind could conjure. The fiendfyre he almost expected, he had dreamed it before, watching Ron and Hermione get consumed by fire before it came for him. He hadn't- he hadn't-

Harry shivered and shook this head trying to get the image out of his mind of the Manor and chandelier falling, Malfoy right under it, his eyes locked with Harry's as if begging him to save him. And Harry couldn't move, not until it was too late and the only thing he could see laying among the shattered crystals was a single limp, pale hand, and blood, so much blood, thin and spreading out like it was mixing with water from a bathroom-

Harry shook his head again, pressing his palms against his eyelids until lights danced behind them. He knew better than to try and go back to sleep, his bastard of a mind would only give him more of the same.

It was fine. Morning would come soon enough, and he could catch a few brief naps in class, the kind that never got deep enough for dreams and- be fine. He would be fine.

-

-

The next night, Harry added a heating charm to his blankets and stoked up the fire so that he slept fitfully, tossing and turning, and sweating through his clothes. Malfoy complained about it being too warm though, so he let the fire go out the following night and only used the charms, adding one to his mattress as well as the blanket.

It worked, until the charms wore off sometime deep into the night, and he found himself sunk into a quicksand of a nightmare that he had to fight to wake from. He was left shaking, his heart racing with unspent adrenaline and an anxious mind that he couldn't shake from a dream he couldn't remember.

Harry just- he wanted to splash cold water on his face, to look himself in the mirror and- and- he wanted to see that Malfoy was alright.

He rose to his feet, clutching his shaky hands into fists as he crossed the floor. Despite what Malfoy said, Harry knew how to walk quietly, especially at night when he didn't want to be heard. Harry had years of practice from the Dursely's, by the time he was seven, he never got caught when he slipped into the kitchen to sneak a few bites of food, at least not for making noise.

Harry walked on tiptoe, making sure to step on the edges, where people didn't walk, and the boards weren't likely to squeak. Once he was on the stones around the edge and the stairs leading up, it was much easier to move silently.

Harry didn't find what he expected when he came up the stairs. Which was Malfoy asleep, instead, he was sitting up against his headboard, a book propped up on his knees and looking half asleep as he tried to read.

Malfoy looked over at Harry even though he was sure he hadn't made a sound.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Harry asked.

"Shouldn't you?" Malfoy asked right back.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well, I just need the loo. But you can't sleep after I leave, right? If you don't sleep now you're gonna be tired tomorrow."

Malfoy rubbed his eyes, fighting down a yawn.

"Right?" Harry pressed.

"I've been able to take short naps, and I wanted to see if I stayed up, maybe I could sleep even after you've left," Malfoy said.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling strangely numb. "well, that's... I mean, what's the hurry? After you have that last fever, you'll be back to normal again."

Malfoy closed the book, "I'm never going to be normal again. Not like I was."

"I just meant-"

"I know," Malfoy said quickly. He sighed, his expression shifting too subtly for Harry to decipher. "... I want to know what I can and can't do, what my limits are. I don't ever want to be vulnerable again. Not if I can help it. And that means not needing someone just to be able to sleep or even feel safe."

Harry stared at him for a few seconds too long before his mind kicked him back into motion, "That- that makes sense. I mean, I'd want the same thing if I were you. So, yeah, right-" he turned around heading back down the stairs, heading for the hatch leading out of the tower, in such a hurry he didn't hear the footsteps running after him.

"Don't run away," Malfoy said.

Harry froze, "I just need some air."

"It feels the same-," Malfoy said.

Harry turned back around to look at Malfoy. He was still halfway up the stairs, wearing Harry's old t-shirt, his hair mussed from his haste and looking devastatingly attractive Harry couldn't have moved if he wanted to.

"-it feels the same to me," Malfoy said softly.

Harry swallowed hard, his hands balling up into nervous fists, "I mean it, I do understand. I don't want to- to tie you down either. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

"You don't," Malfoy said, "that almost makes it worse. I could at least resent you if you were awful about it."

"I-" Harry sighed hugely, "...sorry, I overreacted, I think."

"Why did you run?" Malfoy asked quietly, wrapping his arms around his middle.

"I...don't know," Harry said.

Malfoy's expression changed again, to one Harry recognised from the night Malfoy had disappeared to Hagrid's house, sad, apprehensive and hopeful all at once. But this time seeing it made something in Harry's chest ache in a way he couldn't stand.

"I think..." Harry said helplessly, "I think maybe I just sort of feel like if you don't need me, you'll leave, and I'll never see you again."

"How could you think that?" Malfoy said.

Harry shrugged, unable to put the weight in his chest into words.

"You..." Malfoy squeezed himself tight, "You're going to make me say it aren't you?"

"Say-?"

"I don't-" Malfoy looked at the wall by his shoulder, "I don't need you. I- I want you."

Harry felt his cheeks get hot, the twisting ache in his chest changing into something lighter.

"But it doesn't mean anything if you don't feel the same way," Malfoy said, "I don't want pity or guilt or to be saved. I want to be on equal standing with you."

Harry looked up at Malfoy and couldn't fathom them being more unequal at that moment.

"Do you understand?" Malfoy asked.

Harry nodded, "Yeah."

"And?" Malfoy said, shifting his weight nervously.

Harry took a step up the stairs, "I already want you. I've wanted you from the beginning, really."

Malfoy's eye widened, his skin taking on a pink flush.

"I thought it was because you're a veela, but apparently not everyone thinks you're as attractive as I do," Harry said, taking another step.

Malfoy pulled his hands to his chest as the flush spread all the way to his ears.

"And at first I was alright with just looking, but now, I'd like to know you better," Harry stepped up again, close enough to touch though he didn't, waiting for Malfoy speak, "I read a lot of those fairy tales, and I think it's pretty important to like you for who you are rather than just how you look."

Malfoy was bright red.

"Malfoy-?"

"fuck off," Malfoy said.

"What?" Harry said.

"Do you know what time it is?" Malfoy said his voice strained, "It's the middle of the night, the fucking sun is starting to come up and I haven't slept and you say something like that? I can barely think in a straight line and you- you just-!"

Harry grinned with relief.

"I swear to fuck," Malfoy said with a frown that was mostly pout, "Most of the time getting a straight answer from you is like pulling mandrakes and then you say-! that!" he gestured with annoyance.

"That," Harry repeated with a laugh.

"Don't you laugh at me," Malfoy muttered.

"Sorry," Harry said, "So that is alright? You don't mind?"

"I don't mind," Malfoy said softly.

Harry gently cupped Malfoy's cheeks, the heat of his skin filling his palms, "You're going to get a fever if you're not careful, chickadee," he said softly.

"If I do, it's your fault," Malfoy said.

Harry grinned, "Delightful as always."

Malfoy started to say something, probably very clever and slightly scathing, but Harry didn't get to hear it because he wrapped his arms around Malfoy's waist, picking him up and carrying him back up the stairs.

Malfoy gasped, slapping Harry's shoulder, "You-!"

Harry dropped Malfoy onto his bed, "When kids get grumpy, it's time for them to go to bed."

Malfoy glared at him, "I realise it's your kink, but just picking people up-"

"It's not a kink-!"

Malfoy smirked, "The mildest, most boring kink-"

"It's not a-"

Malfoy jerked forward with uncanny speed, grabbing the front of Harry's shirt before he could react and easily pulling him down onto the bed with him.

Harry got a face full of Malfoy's shoulder, which wasn't very soft but was warm, as Malfoy laughed at him.

"I swear you get lighter every time I pick you up," Harry said.

"I have bird bones," Malfoy said, "or maybe bat bones."

"Wrong. You have veela bones," Harry said.

Malfoy snorted, "Are you going to move?"

"No."

Malfoy was quiet for a few moments before Harry felt him tentatively comb his fingers through Harry's hair, "I don't mind."

Harry could smell Malfoy's shampoo, a sweet flowery smell, and he just let himself relax into the tangle of sheets and Malfoy's arms.

"What about the bathroom?" Malfoy asked.

"Bathroom?"

"You said you came up to use the bathroom," Malfoy said.

Harry sighed and said evasively, "Just wanted to splash some water on my face."

"Nightmares then," Malfoy said, too perceptive for his own good.

"No-"

"I felt you wake up the first time," Malfoy said, "and the next night with the fireplace, well, I thought maybe you'd lost your mind or were ill yourself, but it makes more sense that you were trying to avoid bad dreams-"

"It's fine," Harry muttered.

"Fine would indicate a certain level of comfort or at least an absence of discomfort, and I don't think nightmares fit into that definition," Malfoy said.

"Shut up, Hermoine," Harry said.

Malfoy tugged on his hair, "I think you'll find that we're different people."

"Yeah, she's not bony," Harry said.

"And I'm sure she'd be worried about you, whereas I just think you're being stupid," Malfoy said.

"Delightful," Harry echoed himself ruefully.

Malfoy fingers found a tangle, pulling only slightly before relaxing his grip and carefully combing it out, "I know... I said I wasn't going to be your personal mind healer, but I would be fine with helping on occasion. ...I would like to help if it's you."

Harry hesitated, "It's fine."

"We already talked about that word," Malfoy said.

Harry sighed, "I don't want to bother."

"I offered, therefore it's inherently not a bother. Do I need to buy you a dictionary?" Malfoy asked.

"No," Harry said.

"You probably wouldn't use it anyway," Malfoy said.

"Might use it for a doorstop," Harry said.

Malfoy let out a long pained sigh.

Harry laughed.

Malfoy hand brushed his ear and Harry shivered.

"If you have a nightmare, come to me, and I will calm you back to sleep," Malfoy said softly, "See, I'm not offering that way you can't refuse."

Harry made a vague noise, only half listening. He shifted more onto his side, his head slipping onto the pillow.

Malfoy pulled his glasses off and set them aside before returning to Harry's hair.

Harry thought he heard Malfoy saying something but heard nothing but the gentle tone of his voice as he drifted to sleep.

-

-

"Stubborn," Draco murmured, as he continued combing through Potter's hair. He found it deeply soothing, the feeling of the thick stands, the loose wavy curls moving through his fingers.

Potter's breathing deepened, and Draco allowed himself to calm Potter just a little more, so he wouldn't have another nightmare of course, and so he could study Potter without risk of being caught doing it. He brushed his thumb over Potter's faint freckles, over his cheek and back through his hair.

This was his. This moment was his, forever. No one could ever take it away from him.

-

-

Nothing seemed to change at first. A day passed like nothing had happened. The next day was nearly as uneventful until Draco gathered his nerve to lean against Potter while they were sitting on the couch working on a transfiguration paper and found it welcomed as Potter eased his own weight back against him. After that, each touch Draco made was a little bolder, and never turned away. He realised that Potter never made a move, he always waited for Draco, reacting to him. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He kept expecting every time to be rejected and yet he wasn't.

Draco had once resigned himself to being an enemy of Potter but wanted more.

Then he became an acquaintance, and only wanted more.

He became what he hoped was a friend of some kind, and only wanted more.

Now he had Potter attentions, and he- only wanted more.

He really was far, far too greedy.

-

-

Harry woke slowly, shivering under his blanket from the cold sweat soaking through his clothes. He sat up, feeling stiff, half expecting to still have the smell of the forest caught in his lungs, the strange silence as death eaters surrounded him, only this time there was no second chance, no battle to win, just his body cooling on the damp soil.

He hesitated then grabbed his pillow and went upstairs. He went to sit in the chair and was stopped by Malfoy making an impatient noise at him, pushing his comforter down and moving over. Harry cast a drying spell over himself before setting his wand and glasses on the side table, slipping into Malfoy's bed, his pillow fitting right beside his.

He tried to take up as little space as possible, laying on the very edge of the mattress.

"Lay down," Malfoy said grumpily.

"There won't be enough room-"

"I didn't ask," Malfoy said, his sleepy squint somewhat ruining the glare he was shooting at Harry.

Harry laid down and was Malfoy draped himself over Harry's chest, his face tucked into the crook of his neck. Harry could feel every breath wash over his neck, tickly and warm.

"Sleep," Malfoy ordered, his calming ability washing over Harry and sinking him back into sleep.

-

-

"Malfoy," Harry said softly.

Malfoy grimaced, pulling his blankets up and snuggling down until he was half hidden by them, with only his hair sticking out at odd staticy angles.

Harry looped his scarf around his neck, "You are just a joy in the mornings," he said absently. He considered just leaving but if he had to choose between dealing with sleepy irritated Malfoy and the much sadder 'I thought you left' Malfoy, he'd much rather be grumbled at.

Harry reached out, hesitating, he didn't want to shake Malfoy's shoulder, but he wasn't sure how else to go about it. He envied how easily Malfoy touched him without overthinking it. There were a few times when Harry was acting on instinct that he'd been able to just- not worry about it so much. But he wasn't acting on instinct now.

Harry pulled down on the blanket, "Malfoy? I'm going to go-"

Malfoy huffed at him, his voice rough with sleep, "It's the weekend."

"Yeah, I know, it's Hogsmeade weekend," Harry said. "...did you want anything?" he wasn't sure if he'd have time but, with Ron and Hermione helping him, maybe they could take turns going into town to buy things.

"...sugar quills," Malfoy said.

"Nothing else?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head, "let go of my blanket."

Just to be contrary, Harry pulled it up over Malfoy's head before letting go.

Malfoy jerked the blanket back down, deigning to open his eyes so he could glare at Harry.

Harry grinned and touched his forelock sarcastically, "Sugar quills, it is m'lord."

"...peasant," Malfoy muttered, trying not to a smile.

Harry was halfway down the stairs when he heard Malfoy say, "I'll wait for you."

Harry paused, "It might be dark by the time I get back."

"It's dark by four," Malfoy muttered.

"Yeah, I meant-"

"I'll wait," Malfoy said softly.

Harry hesitantly nodded and slowly headed down the stairs, wishing rather desperately that he could slip under those warm blankets and stay.

-

-

Harry ate a quick breakfast and met up with Ron and Hermione at the front doors. Hermione's little beaded bag was packed with sandwiches and a thermos of tea. Ron had remembered to dress appropriately for the weather with a matching knit hat and scarf in the eye-searing Cannon's orange.

McGonagall stood in front of the large group heading out to Hogsmeade, nearly half the school, some wanting to have a break before the tests leading into the winter holidays, but most of them had shopping to do that they had left too long.

"You're all to be back before dark, at four. Any students caught out later will lose points and possibly earn themselves detention," McGonagall said.

A flurry of panicked whispered went through the already nervous crowd.

"Quiet, please," McGonagall sighed, "I will wait. It's not my time you're wasting."

The titters and whispers finally died down.

McGonagall continued, "You are all to walk in groups of at least three. I don't care if you're friends, join a group, walk together. Take care around the forest, do not approach any animals, and find a prefect or professor immediately if you see a monstrous dog or any animal of concern in the forest." she scanned over the group of students with a stern expression before nodded, "Very well. Line up."

The students still dutifully lined up to show their signed permission slips before being allowed out the doors, nearly running once they were free.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ended up at the end of the line. Ron yawning and complaining about how he could still be asleep, while Hermione checked her bag for the sixth time that morning to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

Harry got distracted by the group of third years in front of him. One of them, a boy with sandy hair that curled around his ears and a puffy bright green muggle jacket, was clutching his permission slip like it might vanish if he so much as blinked too long. His two friends were wearing their heavy school robes, one girl with short-cropped black hair and one with shoulder-length brown hair.

"I'm glad you get to come with us this time, Thomas," The dark-haired girl said.

Tomas nodded, still staring at the crumpled paper.

"It's too bad about the last Hogsmeade weekend," the brown-haired girl said with a giggle.

Tomas shot the brown-haired girl a pouty frown.

"He had detention, Imogen, it's not like he had a choice," The black-haired girl said.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Yasmin!" Thomas said, throwing up his arms.

"I was just saying," Yasmin said.

Thomas' frown grew with a grumbled, "Professor Sprout knows I'm allergic to lousewart. It gives me hives and makes me sneeze, and her stupid gloves and kerchief only work if Davies isn't trying to shove it in my face every time the Professor turns away."

"I think it was you calling her stupid, actually," Imogen said with a smirky grin.

Thomas deflated slightly, "I was just- If she'd just stop him or make him sit somewhere else, is all."

"Don't worry," Yasmin said, "We'll get him back, and then he'll leave you alone."

"He never leaves me alone," Thomas muttered.

Imogen said thoughtfully, "If he doesn't, then we'll just... we'll think of something."

"Would you like me to talk to him?" Harry asked.

All three jumped and turned around, their surprise turning to shock when they recognised him.

"Sorry, I just heard, so if you'd like me to talk to this Davies-" Harry offered.

Thomas' face turned red as he silently shook his head. Imogen nudged him while Yasmin went equally quiet.

Imogen sighed at her friends' sudden shyness, "No, thank you, sir. We'll be fine."

Harry internally winced at the 'sir' but went on, "Well, if it gets worse, come to me... and if you haven't tried it already, you could try writing Davies parents a letter over the holidays, if they're a decent sort, they might sort him out."

Yasmin exchanged a look with Imogen. They shared a grin and looked to Thomas, who just seemed bewildered.

Imogen said, "If we all write-"

"Permission slips," McGonagall interrupted, "I would like to do something other than stand at a door all day."

The three had their slightly ragged permission slips give a cursory inspection and hurried out the door. Harry caught an excited Imogen saying, "My mum would be furious if I was doing half the stuff that-" before they were too far off to hear.

Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder, "Send'n a bloke's mum after him is rough."

"Yeah, but he might listen to her," Harry said.

McGonagall rubbed her knuckles absent-mindedly, "...I believe they meant Jeremy Davies, his father lost his leg in the war. I shall see about getting him into the group therapy sessions so he can express himself in a more proactive manner."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, that's- that's a good idea."

"Getting his parents involved is also a good idea I might write them a quick note myself." McGonagall looked back out at the long ragged line of students winding their way towards Hogsmeade, "Take care to stay warm, it's particularly cold out today."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, slipping out the door and down the steps, Hermione and Ron at his heels.

-

-

The stretch of road outside Hogwart's wards running along to forest to the town was long but fairly straight. It was too cold to just stand around watching a dark line of trees, but they knew better than to rely on warming charms as the heat would melt the snow around their feet and soak through their shoes as the ground turned to mud.

So they walked, slowly, through crusts of snow, that had softened once and then frozen hard so that it broke into jagged chunks as it was stepped on, eventually trod into smaller and smaller pieces until it was almost like a loose sand made of ice and was just as pleasant to walk through. Hermione had brought flashcards and was doing her best to cram dates from history of magic into their heads as they patrolled the road.

They stopped near noon to eat sandwiches and have tea, standing under the eves of the first Hogsmeade building beside the road, talking about whatever came to mind and watching as some of the students started heading back to the castle. They had hardly finished their lunch when Hermione pulled out the flashcards again.

Ron knocked his head back against the wall with a groan of dismay.

Hermione paused and then put the flashcards back in her bag, "How about a break? I need to buy some more study supplies."

Ron hurriedly nodded.

"Sounds good to me," Harry said.

"Do either of you need anything?" Hermione asked.

"Nah," Ron said.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, "I'll get it myself."

Hermione put her hands on her hips, "You both left gift shopping this late?"

Ron scratched his cheek, looking embarrassed.

"I just need sugar quills," Harry said.

"I could get them for you, it's only one thing," Hermione said.

"I wanna get them myself," Harry said. He saw Ron none-to-subtly mouth Malfoy and rolled his eyes.

Hermione smiled, "Fine. I'll catch up with you on the road."

Ron waved as Hermione ran into the crowded street, heading straight to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. He didn't move until she disappeared into the shop, turning around with a goofy grin on his face that made Harry want to roll his eyes, even if he was more than a little jealous of how good they were together.

"So..." Ron said, kicking at the snow as they walked.

Harry shot Ron a look.

Ron grinned apologetically and asked, "...How's things with Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head in dismay.

"Well?" Ron pressed.

"You're not gonna just let this drop are you?" Harry said.

"Not a chance," Ron said, "You're my best mate, gotta make sure you're doing alright."

Harry sighed, "...Good, actually."

Ron's eyebrows rose, "Yeah? No details, but, yeah?"

Harry rolled his eyes again, "Really? I'm about as likely to tell you details, as you are to tell me about you and Hermione," he shuddered at the thought.

Ron laughed, "Fair 'nough."

"We talked is all. He told me how he felt, and I told him how I felt and yeah..." Harry took a deep breath letting out slowly in a fog of cold air, "We're.. something, we're working it out, I guess."

"Working out alright?" Ron said, shoving his hands into his pockets, his elbow bumping Harry's arm.

Harry looked over at him suspiciously.

Ron glanced back, and then very deliberately looked at the forest as they walked, "...it's not like I wanted to know about you and Gin but... one night she needed someone to listen after you broke up and it was late, and she didn't want to talk to mum so... I listened."

Harry frowned at the ground, "Yeah-?"

"So...." Ron sighed, "she said she felt like you and her were more like mates than partners. That she had to initiate everything, hand-holding and kissing and all that," his nose wrinkled at the thought.

"Not all the time," Harry muttered, kicking a jagged chunk of snow.

"Enough that she felt like she was doing all the work," Ron said.

Harry frowned to himself. He had thought they had just grown apart. That they were different people, and they were, but... maybe Ginny had been trying to make it work anyway and he... hadn't. During the summer, he'd been so busy helping the auror's he'd barely even seen her. He'd hardly felt anything when Ginny broke it off with him.

"The way I figured it, I didn't want you to end up in the same cockup all over again," Ron said.

They reached the archway marking the beginning of Hogwart's wards and paused for a moment, both staring up at the school.

Harry turned around first, getting a few steps ahead of Ron before he spoke, "The Dursley's weren't exactly affectionate, not to me anyway. The closest I ever got to a hug was Dudley putting me in a headlock." He felt Ron throw an arm over his shoulder and squeezed, his long legs letting him catch up to Harry easily.

"I just don't know how to go about it," Harry said.

"Well... you could just tell him?" Ron said.

"What? That I don't know how to be in a relationship?" Harry said bitterly.

"Yeah? Tell him what you told me."

"That'll go over well," Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged, "If it doesn't go well, it's Malfoy, so he'll probably just be a shit about it. He not gonna bugger off because of that, you're way too good for him, mate, and he knows it."

Harry laughed, "Feels like the other way around."

"Malfoy?" Ron jostled him with a laugh, "Malfoy-? The Malfoy?"

Harry shot him a glare, "I know before he was- Look, he works really hard at everything he puts his mind to. It's- It's admirable and-" he cut himself off, realising he didn't actually want Ron to know about Malfoy's softer side. He'd rather keep that to himself. And Ron would probably just make gagging noises if Harry told him.

"What about you, then?" Harry asked, trying to shift the subject, "How are you and Hermione doing?"

Ron snorted, "Us? We're aces. I think she studies too much, she thinks I don't study enough, but that's the worst of it. It'll be easier once we're done with schooling."

"She won't be done, though," Harry said, "I heard becoming a healer's the hardest job you can try for."

"Sure, but its Hermione. She'll have it sorted in no time, with top marks. And I'll be done, so I can watch out for her." Ron grinned hugely, "I'm gonna ask mum to teach me how to cook this summer, so when me and Hermione move in together I can surprise her."

"You're going to learn how to cook," Harry said.

"What?"

Harry shook his head, "You're just... pretty great."

"Pretty great? I am all the way great," Ron said.

Harry laughed, punching his shoulder, "Modest much?"

He saw the trio of third years from this morning, Imogen and Yasmin were too busy talking to notice him, but Thomas caught his eye. Harry gave him a nod and got a hesitant smile in return as they passed one another on the road.

Ron shrugged, "Now here's the real hard question, what should I get my mum for chistmas?"

"What do you normally get her?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, "Never had spending money before. I figured since I earned a little from working with George over the summer I ought to get everyone a little something right? Bill and all them started giving gifts once they had jobs."

"You could always just give sweets?" Harry said.

Ron hummed absently, "That'd work for most of em, and for Dad I can just buy him some random muggle thing, but Mum deserves something nice."

"Well, she likes cooking and knitting so you could get her something for that," Harry said.

"Yeah... " Ron nodded thoughtfully, "her scarf's been getting a bit natty, I could get her some nice yarn, really soft in that weird pinky-purple colour she likes."

"There you go," Harry said.

But Ron wasn't listening anymore, down the road Hermione was heading towards them, trying to walk in the loose snow and put her shopping bags into her little beaded bag at the same time and not doing a very good job at either.

Ron broke into a run, "Hermione!"

She looked up just in time to get engulfed by Ron, who picked her up and spun her around, her startled laughter filling the air, "Ron!"

"I missed you!" Ron said brightly.

"It wasn't even an hour," Hermione smacked his shoulder and then gave him a kiss.

Ron said something quiet in response, too far away and caught in the curls of Hermione's hair to be heard.

Harry was about to roll his eyes when a scream rent the air.

He turned, already running towards the sound, pulling his wand from his pocket- Yasmin and Imogen stood by the edge of the forest, Yasmin was frozen with her hand pressed over her mouth, Imogen had her wand drawn though it was trembling uncontrollably in her hand.

"Where?!" Harry shouted as soon as he was close, already cutting towards the forest.

Imogen pointed into the line of black trees, "T-Thomas-!"

"Get my friends!" Harry yelled over his shoulder, dodging through the snow-covered undergrowth.

Off the road, he could follow the tracks, wolf prints and something it was dragging, streaks of blood joining the broken snow. He ran through the trees, eyes scanning ahead for- The green of Thomas' coat bright against the white snow, his arm torn and bloody, Thomas's face was as pale as milk and passed out for the shock and pain. A wolf towered over the boy, hunched back and strange, its legs looking too long, its arms too short, black hair gone patchy and thin in places, the stained remnants of clothes- scraps caught around its waist.

Harry froze for just the barest scrap of a second as a wave of horror and revulsion washed over him.

The wolf made a sharp gurgling howl before snapping at the front of Thomas' jacket, the thin fabric tearing, cotton spilling out-

"Diffindo!" Harry shouted, the severing charm cutting along the wolf's side, a line of split flesh seeped blood so dark it looked black-

The wolf lunged at him, mouth snapping at open-air as Harry stumbled back, "Confringo!" the blasting curse hit the wolf like a blunt hammer, flinging it back into the brush.

Harry hurried over to Thomas, throwing him over his shoulder, and retracing his steps back to the road hoping- He heard the paws crunching through snow, the snapping of branches and that horrible whining howl coming closer-

Harry turned, trying to concentrate over the rush of adrenaline, watching the trees for any sign of movement, binding spell on the tip of his tongue.

"Mr Harry Potter, sir-"

"You- You shouldn't-" Harry said, his heart picking up as he spotted Imogen out of the corner of his eye. He let Thomas slip from his shoulder down to the ground, "Take him. Use a lighting spell, levitation, get him out of here-"

Imogen grabbed Thomas, "Your friends, they're coming-"

"GO!" Harry shouted, taking a step in front of them.

The wolf trotted out of the trees, not bothering to hide, jaw falling open as it panted with a moaned whine. The wound in its side was already closing, slowly knitting into a long pale scar.

Harry raised his wand as the wolf leapt at him, shouting, "Incarcerous!" thick ropes binding around the wolf's body but not stopping its momentum as the thing slammed into him with all its weight, throwing Harry back against a tree with a vicious thud, everything going black.